How do you survive being shot and left for dead in the Chihuahuan Desert? By being found by a beautiful wildlife photographer willing to risk her life to save yours.
A bitter ex-cop fights for his life after he runs to the sound of gunfire on the Ri...
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A storm was coming. Bilious green clouds billowed, rumbling threateningly. Hearing the storm approach, Mendocino had hustled, rolling in his RV canopy, storing all the outside furniture to keep everything from being whipped around or blown away. Green clouds like that tore up Abilene when he lived there, dropping enough hail to collapse roofs, and total who knew how many vehicles. Any not parked under a roof.
Lightning inside the green clouds flickered the color of coal oil lamps he remembered from his grandfather's house when the power went out.
The wind picked up about the time he saw Amos drive up. He opened the RV door, waving him inside.
Amos had to remove his hat, ducking as he came through the door. The big guy had never been inside. Amos took two steps to the small refrigerator and opened it. Mendocino caught the disappointment on his face.
"I'm out of beer. You want something else?"
"Whiskey." Amos opened a high cabinet door, and shut it, opening another.
"Sorry, man." Mendocino chuckled. "Coke? Tea?"
Amos gave Mendocino his go-to-hell glare. "Really?"
Mendocino shrugged. "I showed my ass drinking tequila. I don't keep hard liquor in the house." Another mental snapshot he'd like to shred. If only you could rip up bad memories like photographs you don't like. Hit delete for digital versions, permanently erasing them from the hard drive of the brain. If he could, he'd have deleted every memory of the divorce, his debauchery during it, the bad bust, the ambush in Big Bend. On and on. Too many bad memories filled the picture albums of his mind.
Amos sighed and plopped onto the small RV couch, his knees spread wide, hands resting between them, holding onto his white hat. An elephant in a teacup. "It's okay," he said. "Who goes first?"
The poor guy looked uncomfortable as hell. Mendocino peered out the window, watching the ominous clouds. It was the only way to keep a straight face. "Sounds like your news is more important than mine."
Lightning struck nearby, rattling the RV window blinds. "I've never had to ride out a storm in this thing," Mendocino said.
"We don't get tornadoes," Amos replied. "Hail's another thing." He nodded outside. "Those clouds have hail. Better hope it drops before it gets here."
Mendocino peered through the open blinds. "Yeah, I know."
"Listen. The sheriff called me into his office today. Behind closed doors. The only other guys I've ever known who were called in like that got booted."
Mendocino stood. "Were you?" The thought was sickening.
Amos threw a snide glare.
"Did you get disciplined? Like written up?" Being disciplined was serious business where Mendocino had worked. It went into your permanent personnel file.
