Chapter Six
I’d never seen a laid-backchatterbox of a beach boy move so damn fast.
He was seated before I even got turned around properly. “Hurry! If they touch any of Millicent’s bones I’ll seriously consider violence!”
I doubted he could ever be ugly, but I hurried just the same. The engine rolled over smoothly, and Bishop linked his arms around my middle. I shoved my hat between us.
“Hold on tight. We’re going the fastest way.” His arms cinched tighter, and we sailed down the hill we’d been stargazing on then headed right for the dry creek bed. Bishop yelped at the first huge dip, his weight slamming into my back. “Move with the four-wheeler,” I shouted back at him as he righted himself. “When I turn left or right lean into the turn. Hold on!”
The headlights bounced up and down and so did my passenger. He grunted and huffed, gripping my middle so hard it was difficult to draw a deep breath. We rambled over rocks and down into gulleys, a few impacts so jarring my teeth clacked. The riverbed was unforgiving, and our asses may be bruised, but it was the most direct course. When we climbed out of the rocky ditch about a mile from the dig site, I could see lights aimed at us.
Several, all thin beams but incredibly bright. The knobby tires grabbed at the soft spring dirt just as the report of a gun split the air.
“Shit!” I shouted and jerked on the handlebars, whipping the rear of the Polaris around. Bishop nearly slid off the side and to the ground. Fingers digging into my stomach, he managed to hold on as we dove back into the creek bed. His nose slammed into the back of my head. The four-wheeler listed strongly to the left then righted itself, only to nosedive into a boulder the size of a bison. We both were thrown forward. I threw myself, taking Bishop with me, to the right as the front of the four-wheeler kissed rock. We rolled down to our sides, rocks and stones slashing and gouging, with me ending up sprawled over Bishop.
“Oh…fuck,” he huffed. “My side…”
I sat up, my head spinning from where skull had met dusty rock. I reached up, felt blood, and cussed vividly. Bishop and I sat there for a moment as the radiator in the Polaris steamed and spit, steam filling the headlight beam. Singular. The left beam had been shattered.
“Anything broken?” I asked as I pushed to my feet.
“No, I…no, I don’t think so.”
“Good. Stay down.” I stumbled to the Polaris to get my rifle. I shoved a bullet in and fired a shot into the air. Bishop yelped again. He did that a lot I noticed. Fuck but my head hurt.
“What the actual fuck!?” Bishop shouted.
“A warning shot. Which was more than they gave us.” I shimmied up the bank to scope out the landscape. The site was dark now.
“Wait. They shot at us?!” His voice wavered. I climbed up out of the creek bed, knelt down, and studied the excavation area for a moment. Bishop scrambled up beside me, gasping and groaning. “I didn’t hear a shot, but then again, all I could hear was my blood coursing through my ears. I had several near-death experiences.”
“Mm-hmm, they took a shot,” I replied then stood up, cradling the rifle in my arms. “Looks like they left. Can you walk to the site?”
“Watch me!” He took off at a clip that was hard for me to match. The site was quiet as we stalked up upon it, but the damage had been done. The tents had been torn apart. The tarps over the dig site trashed. The portable camp shower unit was destroyed, and the porta potty that Landon had had delivered to the site had been vandalized. The door now lay in the bone pit.
Bishop had run off to the small white tent where the finds had been stored after they’d been cataloged and casted. I could hear him cursing and winced.
“I hate thieves!” he bellowed as he threw the flap on the lopsided tent aside. I bent down to pick up a flashlight that had been kicked around and turned it on. “I fucking hate thieves! How did they even know we were here?! Miserable dickheads!”
“Did they take them all?” I’d not seen the shelves full of bones, but Perry had run on about them at length.
“They took enough. They took all of Millicent’s tail vertebrae the fuckers. The fuckers!!” He railed and shook his fists at the stars.
“I’m sorry. I know how excited you all were about that Triceratops.” Bishop grunted, words obviously escaping him right now. He flopped down on the ground. Just dropped right into a sit from a stand. I padded over and ran my hand over his bowed head.
“I hate poachers. Go do your own work, thieving bastards. How did they even know we were working out here? The students were not allowed to post about the site primarily for reasons just like this!”
I ran my fingers through his hair simply because I had no other means of offering solace to the man at the moment. My head, still aching and oozing, was packed full of questions with not an answer. How did the poachers know this small group was here? Unless someone had ridden onto the Prairie Smoke land from a nearby ranch and saw what was going on. I tossed a hard look in the direction of the Hollow Wind Ranch as we waited for the kids to return and take us home. My hand stalled in its petting of silky hair.
“You and the kids are no longer sleeping out here,” I announced. The humped-up professor found his voice and spunk after that decree. We were still arguing about my edict when the kids pulled up two hours later.
Bishop Haney might be a chill surfer dude at heart, but he had a spine of steel as well. And a rather extensive vocabulary that included many ways of calling someone he’d kissed a few hours ago a pushy asshole among other vibrant expletives. Guess all those degrees paid off in more ways than one.
* * *
One of thegood things about being the foreman was that my word was the word. At least until Landon came home, which wouldn’t be for another couple of weeks. Which was why I now had four college students and a highly pissed off assistant professor crashed out in my living room. Bane had abandoned my bed for the coveted position of resting between Bishop’s long legs on the sofa. Sneaking past the snoozing group at 4:45 the next morning, I took a moment to listen to the soft snores and sleepy breaths of my guests. Even Bane was sawing wood. It was nice. Real nice. I tried not to dwell on how appealing it was.
Showered and dressed, I got the coffee made, poured myself a mug full, and then stepped outside to make a call. Landon had to be informed of what had taken place last night. Also, Kyle had been politely inquiring—aka pestering me daily—about a position for his brother. I’d asked Landon the last time we’d spoken, and he’d needed time to think. Which was fair. The night air had a bite to it, but my flannel shirt was enough for a quick call. The cell service here wasn’t great but there were enough bars to get the call made. As I waited, I sipped. Landon picked up within a few rings.