Page 2 of Rattlin' Bones

“Maxwell.”

“Judge Curtis Maxwell?”

So he heard of my father. “That’s the one.”

“He’s got a rep. Tough on crime. Even tougher on repeat offenders.”

“I guess so.” I shrugged. “He wants to clean up Las Vegas.”

A dark chuckle followed my words. “City of Sin ain’t ever gonna change. It’s corrupt to the core. Sex. Drugs. Crime. People love it because anything is possible.”

“That’s also why they fear it.”

He reached for my hands and helped me to my feet. “You’re too observant, Sweet Girl. From what I gather, the sharks are already circling, and you’re blood in the water.”

A weird analogy. “I can’t help who I’m related to.”

“No, but you can play it smart and stay outta trouble.” He shifted his stance and turned to the side, shielding my eyes from the light.

I immediately noticed two things. One, the bright beam had come from the headlight on a big Harley Davidson. Two, the guy stood about half a foot taller than me. On his face, he wore a mask. Funny, but I didn’t notice that his voice had been muffled. It must have been loose enough to allow him to breathe and speak without interference.

The mask, though. . . it spooked the hell out of me: a macabre grin and a bony, sinister stare. I backed up, but he followed, keeping pace until I nearly fell over a headstone.

His hands shot out and gripped my waist, keeping me from falling on my ass. “Name’s Skeletor. Skel, for short. You should know it.”

Shit. “Why?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“Because I’m invested in your safety now.”

Invested? “What does that mean?”

“It’s not every day that I find a pretty girl all trussed up and sittin’ on my grandaddy’s grave. My mother is buried beside him. I figure our meetin’ isn’t chance. It’s fate.”

I pursed my lips. “You’re crazy, Skel.” I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “But I do owe you. You saved me from frost, bugs, and probably from wetting my pants. Thank you.”

The mask lifted around his chin; I guessed he must have smiled at that.

“You’re bleedin’,” he announced as he turned over my wrists.

The zip ties had cut into my skin. “It’s not that painful.”

“We should get you cleaned up.”

“I suppose so.” With a sigh, I wondered how long I had sat on the cold ground with the wind whipping through the trees and over my exposed skin. I had worn a lightweight hoodie but still had on jean shorts. At least I wore socks and athletic shoes.

“I feel a little lightheaded,” I admitted, falling into him as I took a step and stumbled. My balance was off. I hadn’t lost much blood, so I couldn’t think of a reason for it. Dehydration? Maybe.

“How long have you been out here?”

My cheek rested over the black long-sleeved tee he wore. The soft material had grown warm from his body heat, and I snuggled into him, realizing I was freezing. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

“Almost four a.m.”

“What? Really?” I lifted my head and caught his nod. “I think they dumped me here around 11.”

“Who?”

“Luis Diego and a few men I didn’t recognize.”

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