Mate Marked(20)

Edna was looking bored now. She headed back to the house too.

“And now I have to go give the lamb back to Mr. Rodgers,” Joyce said, making a distasteful face.

“What’s he like?” Chelsea asked. Joyce clearly had a different impression of him than Mayor Winkleman.

“He’s…” Joyce hesitated. “He’s a very wealthy and powerful man and he’s one of the town’s major employers, so he’s got a lot of influence. He paid for the Juniper Police Department to get all new patrol cars this year. Also our land is right next to his.” The message was clear. She didn’t like him, but she didn’t dare speak badly of him.

So, maybe the meeting with Police Chief Tomlinson wasn’t going to go that well after all.

“Got it. I can take the lamb back to Mitch Rodgers if you like,” Chelsea said.

“That would be wonderful,” Joyce said gratefully. “I have to go deal with my rotten younger brothers.”

Edna was standing on the steps, watching them.

“Goodbye, dear! Don’t be a stranger!” Edna called out as Chelsea, holding the bleating lamb, headed for her car. “Well, of course you’re not a stranger, you’re Joyce’s twin sister. Funny how I can’t remember your name. Don’t be late for dinner!” she yelled.

The lamb sat on Chelsea’s front seat and bleated loudly as Chelsea drove over to Mitch Rodger’s property.

After that, she planned on going to the human town of Juniper to talk to the police chief about the sheep thefts. Hopefully he’d have a more neutral view on it than Mitch Rodgers would. Granted, he was human, but with luck he’d cooperate with her as a fellow law enforcement officer.

His home was an enormous luxury log and timber structure with saddle-notched corners, steep rooflines and tall picture windows. It was set in a small clearing, but most of the property was thickly forested.

A red Porsche gleamed in the driveway next to a mud-spattered monster truck. It was oddly out of place there; everything else had an “I’m a wealthy rancher” feel to it, and this looked like a little city-slicker car that wouldn’t last a day on pothole-riddled back roads. Chelsea made mental note of the license plate number; it was a California plate. Odd.

Chelsea carried the lamb up to the front porch and set it down. She rang the doorbell and waited, but nobody answered.

With a sigh, she picked the lamb up and walked down the front steps. With her sensitive shifter hearing, she could hear men’s voices through the woods to the east of the property. She began pushing her way through dense underbrush, calling out, “Hello? Anyone home?”

The voices fell silent.

“Stop right there,” an angry voice barked, and a man stepped out from behind a tree—with a shotgun pointed right at her head.





Chapter Ten




“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing spying on me?” the man demanded, his voice furious. “And what did you do to my sheep?”

“I’m Sheriff Chelsea Wintergreen of the Silver Peak pack, and I didn’t do anything to your sheep,” Chelsea said indignantly. He looked suspiciously at the star on her shirt as she set the lamb down.

“Then where did you get that lamb? And why does it have blood on it?” The gun was pointed right at her head, and he fixed her with a steady glare. “Did you bite it?”

“Did I bite a lamb and then bring it back to you?” Had he really just asked her that? “I’m not even going to dignify such a stupid question with an answer. And I don’t talk to people who are pointing guns at my head.”

“And I don’t cotton to people who trespass on my land and kill my sheep.” He stood there for a long moment, glaring at her, then a man’s voice called out from the woods behind him.

“Hey, Mitch, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”

“Fine! I’ll deal with it!” he yelled, and Chelsea found herself wondering what he’d have done if there hadn’t been witnesses nearby.

“Tell you what,” she said coldly. “I’m going to get in my car and leave now. If you plan on shooting me, you’re going to have to come up with a really good explanation as to why you shot a law enforcement officer in the back.”

She turned and walked to her car, tingling with anticipation the whole way.

“Don’t come back!” She heard the rancher’s shouted words as she slammed her door shut.

Right. Like she was likely to drop by for tea and crumpets tomorrow. Or to bite some more lambs.

She was fuming as she drove off, but only made it a couple of miles before a police car with flashing lights pulled up behind her. She pulled over quickly and climbed out as several officers scrambled out of their car, guns leveled