Renegade Magic by Rebecca York & Ann Voss Peterson & Patricia Rosemoor

Author:Rebecca York & Ann Voss Peterson & Patricia Rosemoor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romantic suspense series, native american witch, multicultural romance, shifter mystery, strong female protagonist, art mystery, second chance at love
Publisher: Ann Voss Peterson
Published: 2023-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Tom swung a leg over his mare and dismounted. She was cool now after walking the last mile to the orange cliff, so he dropped the reins, ground-tying her near the spring and giving her the opportunity to drink.

Jessie did the same with her gelding, though her dismount was a little stiff.

“Sore?”

“I haven’t ridden this much since pony club when I was a kid.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Here his neighbor encouraged him to ride the horses he kept in his backyard whenever Tom wanted, and yet, he hadn’t ridden in months. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed riding. Of course, it may not have been the riding he missed as much as Jessie’s company.

Forcing his mind off Jessie and onto the reason they’d ridden all this way, he gestured to the wide vein of orange rock in the cliff that caught the sunlight, bright as flame. “This is the spot.”

Jessie squinted up at the rock. “Just like Joe’s painting.”

Tom pointed to the south, in the direction of Santa Fe. “Black Canyon, the spot where Joe was shot, is that way. He might have been coming here when he died.”

“I’ve seen the photos and read the reports filled out by Sena Pueblo’s tribal officers, but I’d like to look over that area myself. Do you think we’ll have time today?”

Tom squinted up at the sun. “We’d better get moving. It’s a long ride back. Once we put up the horses, we can drive to Black Canyon.”

They walked toward the cliff, searching among rock and juniper and the occasional beavertail cactus for any clue to why this area was so important to Joe Cordova. And why Charlotte had insisted they come here. The sun beat down on them as minutes added up to hours. Sweat beaded on Tom’s brow and dripped into his eyes. Just when he was about to curse Charlotte Reyna’s infernal goose chase and call it a day, he spotted something white protruding from the bajada, the fan-shaped pile of earth at the foot of the cliff eroded from the cliff’s wall and deposited by rainwater. At one point, when the arroyo had gushed with water, it had cut into the sediment and swept part of the cliff downstream. Sun-bleached branches of juniper stuck out into the dry streambed.

No. Not juniper.

“Jessie.” He pointed to the spot and strode toward it.

Jessie followed him. Reaching the spot, he looked down into the empty eye sockets of a human skull.

Tom’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the wind whistling in the cliff above.

“My God, Tom. Bones. Human bones. A whole skeleton.” She dropped to her knees, scrambling in her bag for her camera. Pulling it out, she began snapping pictures.

Tom knelt beside her and pointed to a dull gleam near the skull. “And look at this.”

A fine chain circled the neck of the skeleton and attached to a piece of jewelry partially buried in gravel and silt. The pawn’s silver-and-turquoise gleam caught a ray of sunlight.

“It’s a necklace of some kind.

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