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A thunderous cracking boom shook the ground, and a huge fireball rose high into the air.
Yeow! That should get some attention.
To my relief, Max didn’t even twitch.
Bodacious pawed the ground nervously.
Edgar jumped on my lap and shivered.
I hugged him to me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Miss Kitty tunneled under by shirt.
Kablooey!Another explosion rocked the ground.
Bodacious took off at a dead run.
Grabbing a handful of Max’s mane, I urged him into a gallop.
Three miles later, Bodacious finally slowed to a stop.
“Oh, thank God.” I slumped over Max’s neck. “I want a massage. A big glass of iced tea, some chocolate and a bunch of Tylenol.”
Edgar licked my face.
“And a doggie bone for you.”
The whump-whump of a helicopter had me raising my head. It was Mom’s Huey. “We’re going home guys.”
Chapter Sixteen
A Holbrook newspaper reporter spotted the explosions and rushed to the scene, thinking it was an airplane crash. Instead, he came across me slumped over Max’s neck with Edgar perched behind me and Bodacious standing guard. The photo made me a ten-day wonder. Every news station in the country wanted an interview. Ugh. The Sheriff talked me into doing two, even though I was still battered and bruised.
Thankfully, the little girl’s mother had seen the news reports about a missing Maricopa County Sheriff’s deputy and had called right away. As a reward Dad invited them to spend a weekend at the Refuge.
My grandfather survived the explosion with only minor injuries and was included in the FBI task force going after James Bass aka Eric Roberts.
The Cochise Cowboys derailed the train five miles outside of Winslow and were loading boxes of stolen Nikes and smuggled fentanyl into several trucks when the CIA showed up. Yep, the CIA. In the ensuing gun battle James Bass was shot twenty-two times and none of his gang survived either.
Let’s just say Agent Grimes and Grandpa were seriously pissed.
The whole ordeal had left me more than a little jumpy and I knew everyone was worried about me. Looking for a little peace, I went out to the vegetable garden and started pulling weeds.
“What are you doing?” Dante growled.
“Weeding.”
“You are supposed to be resting.”
I snorted. “Kinda hard to do with everyone stopping by to check on me.”
“You scared the hell out of all of us.”
A jackrabbit shot out of the tomato plants with Edgar in hot pursuit. His neon orange collar was very eye-catching.
“I know.” I pulled out another weed.
“What you need is a change of scenery. How do you feel about a nice, relaxing vacation on Kauai?”