Hallowed Ground by Lori G. Armstrong Read Free Book Online

Was great for a while, felt like I was makin’ a difference.
    We got that shootin’ range stopped, but I couldn’t stand the politics. Frankie was the worst, actin’ like he was ‘Heap Big Chief’ or something.” His smile was there and gone. “Then I got the job at Brush Creek and I hadta quit.”

    “You helped them get the shooting range shot down, but you’re helping to build a casino that the Medicine Wheel Holy Group wants even less than that range?”

    “Yeah.”

    “Why?”

    “Can’t eat or feed your kid on your principles.”

    I had nothing to say to that one.

    “Don’t matter what I think ’cause this is all Rondelle’s fault. Between workin’ for a hard-ass like Bud Linderman and now the Carluccis, she’s in a mess ’o trouble and it’s spreadin’ fast. I ain’t
    ’bout to let Chloe get caught in the shitstorm.”

    God. Talk about a massive headache. Not only from the twist this case had taken, but also from the stress of pretending I was anywhere besides sitting in the shadow of Bear Butte.

    A breath of sage-scented air wafted by. I inhaled but the calming properties were slow to kick in.

    Donovan sighed. “Didja tell me about your brother ’cause I’m Lakota?”

    I let his change of topic slide. “Yeah. You remind me of Ben.”

    He sat up taller, as if I’d given him a compliment.

    “Can I ask you somethin’?”

    Never an easy way to deflect that request. “Sure.”

    “Didja really used to work for the sheriff?”

    “Yeah.”

    “You really carryin’ a gun?”

    A smile crept up. “No.”

    “ Shee . The girl can bluff.” He paused, mirth gone. “Can I ask you somethin’ else?”

    I nodded, warily.

    “Could you have done anything to prevent Ben’s murder?”

    I’d have been less shocked if he’d have reached across the table and slapped me. “No.”

    “Then that’s where we’re different. ’Cause I can keep Chloe safe, and I will, no matter what it takes. You won’t find her. Trust me.”

    He unfolded his long legs, faded denim brushing the warped pine underbelly of the picnic table.
    Kicking aside yucca seedpods, flat pieces of shale crunched beneath his booted feet. He wandered to the barbecue grill, his back straight as a section of rebar.

    I fiddled with the plastic covering my cigarette package, processing everything. Had Donovan told me the truth? Or an elaborate lie to get back at Rondelle?

    One thing was for certain, sharing this new information with Martinez wasn’t going to be a picnic.

    Donovan turned, his silhouette perfectly aligned with the striking backdrop of Bear Butte. He started toward me, a funny sort of smirk on his face.

    A distinctive pop cut the tranquility.

    Donovan’s smile changed into a grimace. His body jerked once, twice, three times and he pitched backward.

    Horror froze me to the spot. I might have screamed, a shriek might’ve actually forced itself from my shriveled lungs and out my open mouth. But all I heard was the ringing thud as his head clipped the corner of the steel barbecue grill before he crashed to the ground.

CHAPTER 4
    I HIT THE DIRT.

    Listened for more gunshots.

    Silence mocked me.

    I couldn’t cower in the dirt waiting for bullets that might not come.

    Donovan needed help.

    On my elbows, I crawled across the uneven terrain, through pine needles, patches of dead grass and cactus until I reached Donovan.

    His body was splayed like a broken mannequin.

    I had the overwhelming urge to throw up at the sight of all that blood.

    Think, Julie, just breathe through it. You can do this.

    Gritting my teeth, I lifted myself onto my hands and knees to gauge the damage.

    Without jostling Donovan from the weird position he’d landed in, I checked his vitals. The little self pep talk had kicked my emergency medical skills into gear.

    Was he still breathing? Yep. Move down. My fingers pressed against the carotid artery in his neck; a thready pulse, but a pulse nonetheless. Good.

    Despite my