CHAPTER 1
Sandy Templeton gasped as she glanced into the rear view mirror of her compact car. Her blue eyes widened as a dark sedan filled the looking glass. "I don't have the brooch they're looking for. Why are they following me?" Her long slim fingers grasped the steering wheel so tightly her arms ached and the palms felt wet. She swallowed a lump in her throat and as she brought her attention back to the road, her breath burst from her throat in short sobs.
The trip seemed to last forever although she traveled this route many times from where she was teaching in Colorado Springs to Fort Collins then on to Laramie where her grandfather and father ranched west of the gem city. But today she was rushing to her grandfather's funeral and the car behind her added to her stress.
In Fort Collins she darted down alleys hoping to evade her pursuers. On one diversion, she lost them as they zipped past her hiding place. She sat back in the seat and sighed. She'd been taken in by the tall handsome John Sterling when he came to her apartment, but all he wanted was a brooch he said belonged to his family and was given to her grandfather's father when he left England years ago.
She knew of no such brooch. He obviously had the wrong person and they were interested in some other family. Shaking her head and angrily pounding the steering wheel, she pulled from the alley and headed for the highway leading to Laramie. "The old liars," she breathed. "There's no brooch and why would they want the thing after all these years?" Her teeth ground together and she growled deep in her throat then her eyes brightened as a thought popped into her head. "Danny," she said. The mentally challenged man who took care of their cabin would know the truth. "Grandpa could tell him anything because he always kept Grandpa's secrets to himself."
She glanced at the mirror again and sighed finding no dark car behind her. A gravel road heading north caught her attention and Sandy swerved the car onto it thinking this last evasive move would leave John Sterling and his fat friend, Livingstone, far behind.
The sun gleamed close to the western mountains and Sandy guessed she had perhaps three hours or so before it set. A large dark bottomed thunderhead moved slowly from behind the hills and pushed its way across the early June sky, but she felt confident that before the cloud emptied its contents, this gavel road, winding northward, would take her to the interstate stretching between Cheyenne and Laramie. Leaning back in the seat, she sighed and let the air from her lungs serge through her lips in a whistle of relief.
Automatically her gaze darted to the mirror and a lump of nervous energy jumped from her chest to her throat. Dust from behind assured her that Sterling had found her trail. She tensed again and pushed on the foot feed.
"Oh boy," she breathed in terror. "And here I sit in the middle of nowhere."
Her gaze darted from left to right at the small farms and ranches dotting the edges of the gravel. She sped on, her gray pumps pressing the accelerator. Eyeing a plain dirt road, she dived onto it, the rear end of her compact spewing gravel as she turned.
Before her a large cloud of dust appeared. She gasped at the herd of cattle being driven down the dusty road by men on horseback and coughed at the dirt filtering into her car as she approached the herd. Her heart thumped loudly and she licked her dry lips as she saw her escape route blocked and Sterling's car approaching.
Sandy's heart beat frantically inside the pale blue cotton blouse. What a situation, squeezed between a herd of cattle stretching out on either side of the road and Sterling behind. She wished she had the brooch they wanted, for gladly she would hand it over. Why in the world would they think she had it? And why was it so important?
She pushed the car horn, remembering what Grandpa did to make a trail through the herd, but the cattle only turned and looked at her. Finally they started to move aside and Sandy smiled weakly at her good fortune.
A quick glance in the mirror gave her more assurance. The herd filled the space behind, leaving Sterling beyond the cattle's broad brown backs. A strained chuckle escaped from her throat as she moved slowly forward.
Above the herd's bellowing she heard Sterling's car horn, but the sight of the men was lost in the dust and the cattle moving as a stream around her. Sandy gasped as something mingled with the dust. Steam began billowing from beneath the compact's hood covering the windshield with moisture then mud. She anxiously groped to find the wipers as the car began to cough and sputter. The lump in her throat enlarged and she growled with anger as the car's motor stopped, leaving her sitting still, the herd moving around her like a stream of dark water.
The last of the herd stepped around Sandy's stalled compact revealing the hood of the dark car behind her. She twisted the key in the ignition again and again, stomping on the gas pedal as she urged the car to start. "Come on, you old thing. Start. Oh, please start." Exhausted at trying, she pounded on the steering wheel, trying to hold back tears of panic burning in her eyes.
Behind her, she saw Sterling slide from the driver's seat and slowly step out carefully closing the door as if enjoying the panic in the compact.
Sandy desperately locked her door and squirmed to secure the other three as Sterling smiling face appeared at the window. She watched the man pull on the door then look on the ground, searching as if he lost something. Sandy couldn't hold back the scream, seeing Sterling with a stone and knowing he intended breaking the window.
What could she do but scream although only Sterling could hear her. The horsemen were lost in the dust ahead and the ringing of the scream was confined to the walls of the tin box in which she sat.
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