The sound of tinkling glass made her jump out of her skin. The can of hornet spray fell from her grip. It rolled across the ground before she picked it up and faced the dumpster. “Who’s there?” she demanded, wheeling the light around. “Come out or I’ll…” She considered her options, eyeing the dead hornet on the can’s label. “…blind you with insecticide.”
Her steps faltered at the sound of more glass tinkling. It was definitely coming from the dumpster.
If the intruder was hiding out inside, he didn’t have much for standards. Trash collection wouldn’t be until the day after tomorrow. Between the gallery, the bakery and the Tex-Mex eatery two doors down that used it for overflow, the gallery dumpster would be loaded at this point.
The smell coming off it was enough to put Sassy on her heels. The light shook slightly and her pulse jackrabbited as she approached the flip-up lid from the side. If a criminal was going to pop out like a jack-in-the-box, she’d prefer to be out of reach.
She steeled herself, silently counting to three. Then she threw back the lid. It bounced against the side of the dumpster, making a racket worse than the screaming alarm that had woken her. The banging echoed endlessly down the alley as Sassy held the flashlight and can in a two-handed hold in front of her like it was a real weapon.
The chittering broke through the noise in her head. The unblinking reflective eyes of the furry creatures sitting tandem in a bed of torn garbage bags washed over her.
Both she and the raccoons left the staring contest unbroken for several moments. Sassy’s mouth formed into an O of understanding. “Right,” she said finally. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “You two…carry on.” She nodded toward the high beams of her vehicle. “I’ll be over here.” Backing away from the dumpster, she left the lid open so the mammals could crawl out when they were ready.
Chastising herself for being overly jumpy, she stalked back to the gallery’s rear exit. She cranked the knob of the door. It didn’t budge. “Locked,” she assured herself. She eyed the unblinking red eye of the security camera over the door and said again, louder this time, “It’s locked.”
Still, the feeling of uneasiness wouldn’t leave her. She dug into the pocket of her flannel sweater for the bar rod with its skull brand.
Who could have dropped it here? No one came out the back exit except her and her assistant, Soledad Yazzie. Artists, clients and customers entered and exited through the front entrance unless there was a major event that involved catering. Even regular deliveries didn’t come through this door.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, she couldn’t shake the disquiet she’d felt at the thought of an intruder.
She went back to the Bronco and cut the engine. The headlights dimmed until the area behind the gallery was enveloped in darkness. Sassy rattled the keys companionably as she approached the back door again. She fumbled for the right one and shoved it into the lock. The satisfying clicking of releasing tumblers answered as she turned it, then flung the door wide.
It was pitch-black inside.
She flipped on the light.
The storeroom was as she’d left it, everything in its place. The organization here had more to do with Soledad. Sassy was notoriously untidy.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the plate-glass window on the wall.
It was a good thing Ryan hadn’t answered…and that Nick was out of town. With her pillow-creased face, messy hair sticking out of the trapper hat, rumpled clothes and wild eyes, she’d probably scared the raccoons more than they’d scared her. It was a wonder their souls hadn’t left their bodies at the sight of her.
Tugging off the hat, she looked around again, double-checking that everything was as she remembered. Then she moved on to the next room, the gallery itself. She wandered from one display to another until she assured herself there wasn’t a dust mote out of place. The only faces that greeted her were those of the subjects in the paintings or the wooden and ceramic sculptures atop pedestals.
The cash register behind the front desk, Soledad’s domain, lay undisturbed. Sassy had taken the day’s earnings to the bank before she’d headed home for the night. The front doors, too, were locked tight.
With a sigh, she climbed the narrow, winding staircase to her upstairs office.
She didn’t keep cash here, so she never locked the door. Stepping into the room, she switched on the light and leaned heavily against the jamb.
The adrenaline was leaving her body. She felt cold, sapped and a little sick to her stomach.
She hadn’t overreacted, she told herself. The body of a woman had been discovered in Dark Canyon Wilderness a few months before. Sassy’s friend Fern Hensley had been restrained and almost burned alive in a house not far from town and was still recovering at Baldwin Memorial Hospital. Sassy’s cousin Ava had survived an attempted kidnapping only a few weeks before.
Something was happening to women in and around Hall County. The attacks didn’t seem to be random. Sassy sensed from close conversations with her cousins—Ryan, the firefighter, Noah, a search and rescue dog handler and investigative journalist, Jacob, who was a National Parks SBI special agent, and Ava, Fern’s psychologist, plus Ava’s partner, Chayton Benally, an officer with Navajo Tribal Affairs—that these incidents could be related.
Trouble had come to Dark Canyon. Chances were it hadn’t left.
But for now, the gallery was secure and Rogue needed to be fed.
Before Sassy left, she opened the desk drawer and dropped the bar rod into the clutter inside. She switched off the light, descended the stairs and shut off more lights as she made her way to the rear door.
As she locked up for the second time that night, she again eyed the camera above. A commotion from the dumpster followed the sinister sound of an animal scream. She made a note to call her father, Dr. Richie Colton, the local veterinarian, in the morning to send someone early to check if the animals were still there. If they were, they needed to be screened for rabies. The last thing Dark Canyon needed was an outbreak.
As she clutched the flashlight, her head swiveled right, left and back.
It didn’t matter how scary she looked. She could use some company right about now, a distraction from all the scenarios running through her head. She wished Ryan had answered the phone. She wished Nick had made it back from his hiking trip.
