president, Axel Grisham, county commissioner, and the men with the three largest ranches—
Grant Mason, Bo Sheridan and Harley James.
The mighty powers, Drew thought to himself sarcastically.
These men controlled the politics of the county, even spreading into other counties, and nothing happened without their say so. They had always resented the fact that Drew held himself so aloof, which only prompted him to be more reserved than ever.
But just because he wasn’t part of the inner circle didn’t mean he suspected any of these men of what was being whispered about. They were all fourth and fifth generation Texans, wearing their honour like a badge. They’d done a lot of good for the area. He couldn’t see any of them being part of something so heinous as an illegal game preserve and hunt.
“I want these rumours chased down,” Grant Mason thundered, stabbing the air with his forefinger. “Things like this hurt all of us.”
ANIMAL INSTINCTS
Desiree Holt
9
“That’s the damn truth,” Hob Winston agreed. “Now I know all of you. Y’all are clients of the bank. You work hard to maintain the honour of Texas ranching. If someone is doing this, it will taint the entire area.”
Someone in the front raised a hand. “Have you contacted Texas Game and Wildlife?”
Mason nodded. “Absolutely. Talked to the local game warden. But he tells me they’re stretched as thin as everyone else. Asked us to see what we could check out and report back to them.”
“I’ve got my men out riding every night,” Bo Sheridan said, “checking area by area to see what they can sniff out.”
“Did they find anything?” someone else asked.
Sheridan shook his head. “Not yet, but we aren’t giving up. And we’re asking all of you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you see or hear anything, let Hob Winston know. He’s agreed to be the central clearing house for information.”
Drew listened as the meeting wound down, studying the men at the front of the room.
Something was off, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe he’d do some of his own night riding.
The white wolf raced hard across the pasture, heading for the copse of trees at one end.
She’d been out again trying to find the illegal game preserve and searching for John, but she’d been spotted. Two men had chased her across acres of ranch land, firing twice at her, but she was too far away for them to hit. She knew they didn’t want to kill her. John had told her they liked to maim animals and torment and torture them before finally killing them.
She’d been very careful, but somehow she’d been spotted.
Her lungs were bursting as she increased her speed. Somewhere in this vast area she had to find someone to help her, but to do that she needed to avoid capture herself. She’d finally realised that she had to approach a human, hoping he wouldn’t throw her out or have her committed. Her destination was the ranch house just on the other side of these trees, drawn to it by some essence of safety, and she hoped she wasn’t wrong. The man who was the obvious owner of Hawk’s Run Ranch had an air about him that called to her wolf sense.
ANIMAL INSTINCTS
Desiree Holt
10
Last night, after finally making her way back to her hidden camp site, she’d drawn a crude map of the areas she’d scoped out, places that might be hiding the phantom game preserve. Hawk’s Run wasn’t large enough, so she could eliminate the owner, she hoped.
Maybe he was in on it, but she prayed he wasn’t.
He’d been gone most of the day and part of the evening, so she’d taken off again to do her searching. Now she’d been spotted and her chances of escape were narrowing. She had nearly reached the edge of the clearing again, where his house stood, when she heard the feared hoof beats thundering closer.
The crack of the rifle shot split the air an instant before she felt the bullet hit her shoulder. She stumbled but pushed herself forward.