Tainted Trail by Wen Spencer Page A

forewarned, Ukiah was still startled by the man that suddenly leaned in the Jeep’s window.
    â€œHello! Who are you?” the stranger asked. He had an infectiously cheerful smile and ice-cold blue eyes that swept down over Ukiah, inspecting his wounds.
    â€œNone of your business, Peter.” Sam jumped into the driver’s seat.
    â€œPeter Talbot.” The stranger put out his hand to be shaken. “I’m Sam’s husband.”
    â€œUkiah Oregon.” Ukiah extended his right hand out of habit, and checked the motion as his bulky white cast reminded him that his right arm had been recently broken. Sam is married? Peter Talbot reached out and caught Ukiah’s hand before he could retract it.
    Just looking at him, Ukiah couldn’t imagine Sam married to this man. Ukiah recognized that Peter Talbot was good-looking in a scruffy sort of way. Tall, lean, chisel-featured, he could have graced a magazine ad. From wispy blond hair that fell into his eyes, shirt unbuttoned to show lean chest muscle to battered shoes, though, he seemed completely mismatched to Sam’s orderly neatness.
    In the driver’s seat, Sam nearly bristled with anger. “Let go of him and get away from the car.”
    â€œI’m just shaking his hand.” Peter kept hold of Ukiah’s hand, giving it a painful shake.
    Sam started the Jeep. “You know you’re not supposed to be within a hundred feet of me.”
    â€œThat’s cute, Sammie Anne. You come to my place of work and tell me to stay away from you.”
    â€œSince when are you working at McDonald’s?”
    â€œSammie Anne, private eye, you’re supposed to know all this! I started last week. I’m the morning manager.”
    Sam glared, revving the Jeep’s engine. “Let go of him.”
    â€œSo, who the hell are you, Ukiah Oregon?” Peter flashed him a smile that might have been charming if not for the coldness in his eyes.
    â€œI’m a private investigator from Pittsburgh,” Ukiah said, trying to extract his hand.
    â€œThe uncle of the lost hiker flew him in.” Sam gunned the engine again.
    â€œCouldn’t cut it, Sammie Anne?” Peter grinned.
    â€œHe’s a tracker. It’s not my area of expertise,” Sam stated.
    â€œSo, what happened to you, Ukiah?” Peter asked, ignoring Sam’s anger. “Did someone else catch you messing with their wife?”
    â€œI’m not your wife anymore,” Sam said. “Now, let go of him.”
    â€œNow, honey, give the man a chance to answer.” Peter tightened his hold.
    â€œI had a rough day.” Ukiah stopped trying to free his hand, instead squeezed back. Recently he’d discovered he was considerably stronger than the average man.
    Peter winced slightly. “Well, you better not even think about touching my wife.”
    Sam reached into the backseat of the Jeep and fished out a cattle prod. She snapped it on and jabbed it out within an inch of Peter Talbot’s nose. “Let him go!”
    â€œEasy, Sammie, I was just doing just that.” Peter released his grip.
    Sam must have shifted into reverse earlier while Ukiah was grappling with Peter. She let out the clutch and the Jeep leaped backward. She snapped off the cattle prod, dropped it into Ukiah’s lap, and wrenched the Jeep around. Shifting into first, she roared out of the parking lot.
    They drove in silence until Sam suddenly pulled into a small shaded park.
    â€œI’m really sorry about that,” she said. “People do silly things when they’re young. Start to smoke. Get tattoos. Get married to complete jerks.” Sam parked the Jeep and killed the engine. “Of course later you grow up enough to realize how stupid you’ve been, but getting rid of your mistake requires lots of pain and messy procedures.”
    â€œYou’re divorced.”
    â€œComing up on two years. Not that Peter has acknowledged it. He