Hostage Heart by Lindsay McKenna Page A

didn’t tell you so.”
    Morgan shrugged his broad shoulders and poured himself another whiskey. “I didn’t think you could get Gallagher, but I was wrong. What’s next in your campaign to get the water rights to that ranch?”
    Jud rebuttoned his paisley velvet vest and shrugged into his gray business coat. “I’ve told Sheriff Cole to tell Lark Gallagher that an Apache shot her father outside of town. Of course, he’ll blame it on Ga’n since he’s been keeping the area a hotbed of problems for the U.S. Army. Now she’s by herself. No woman can run a ranch on her own. I plan to offer her cash to sell it. In her present position, I’m sure she’ll accept.”
    Morgan’s fleshy features broke into a smile and he lifted his glass in another toast. “I’ve got to give you credit, Jud. You and the Ring have certainly brought more government funds to the Arizona Territory, more than I ever dreamed possible. Your idea to keep the damned Apaches stirred up and force the government to bring in more troops has been a brilliant success.”
    Jud checked the time on his gold watch before placing it back in the side pocket. The Tucson Indian Ring had been created ten years earlier by some very astute businessmen in the Arizona Territory who saw a way to make huge profits. Jud was in charge of the northern area. He bribed men like Morgan, Cole and Shanks to bend or ignore the law completely. Yes, he liked greedy men; they were easy to control. The Ring’s power and influence was building yearly, their coffers filling with more money than he’d ever dreamed existed. Now the Ring’s influence reached clear back to Washington, D.C. Cameron felt the keen edge of power, and he savored the sensation. It was simple arithmetic: keep the whites and Indians at war with one another and the government would keep sending more money and troops.
    Jud looked over at Morgan. “You’re building a nice little nest egg, too, don’t forget. Just keep turning your head the other way when I send Shanks and my boys out to raid an Apache rancheria, and when Ga’n and his renegades attack the settlers.”
    “We need to talk about tactical raids along that line, Jud.”
    He raised a well-manicured hand. “This won’t take long. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to discuss the Ring’s next series of raids. In the meantime, enjoy this good whiskey.”
    Lark looked up as the door to the office opened and closed. She held the voucher tightly in her hand, along with the bankbook to her father’s savings account.
    Jud Cameron reminded her of a snake. Although he wore only the finest clothes, although his black hair was neatly cut and his thick mustache trimmed, he was the most poisonous kind of pindah . Again she had to endure from him the kind of torrid inspection she had come to expect from white men. As Cameron stripped her naked with his cool green gaze all her muscles tightened with wariness. She stood without speaking, her eyes blazing with distrust.
    Finally Cameron came forward and sat down at the massive maple desk. With a flourish he gestured toward a leather wing chair. “Sit down, Lark. How long has it been? Almost two years since I last had the pleasure of seeing you?” He smiled to himself: she was a breathtaking creature, a wild, untamed golden savage. Just her proud, silent stance fired his blood. By the age of thirty, he’d sampled just about every kind of female there was, but he’d never had a half-breed Apache woman, and he savored the thought of having her.
    Lark sat down on the edge of the chair, the voucher clutched in her hands. “I’ve come to take over my father’s business with the Prescott Bank, Mr. Cameron.”
    Jud steepled his long, slender fingers in front of him and leaned back in his chair. “Yes. I heard about your father’s untimely death. My condolences to you, Lark. It was a shame. He was a respected man here in Prescott.” Respected for the quality of horses he raised, Jud amended silently, and