Chapter 1

The Ford Explorer made its way along the canyon road. Sheriff Gina Hawkins sat behind the wheel as the Drago County Sheriff's vehicle bumped and bounced along the rutted road. The thirty-two year old attractive blonde was pensive as she drove alone to the site of the crime. On the force for eleven years and elected Sheriff last year, this was her first murder case. Drago was a small and not very populous county in northern Colorado. Her office was in Capston, a small rural town and the county seat. The folks who lived in the county were mostly small ranchers who kept to themselves and rarely had any kind of trouble with the law. That was why she was startled when the call had come in informing her that a local resident had discovered the body while hunting. He had made it plain this wasn't an accident, so her next call was to Ben McCauley, the director of the local funeral home who also doubled as county coroner. She had sent both her deputies to pick up Ben and escort him to the crime scene where they were to secure the area while he did an examination of the body. That was an hour ago and still she was having trouble believing what had happened.

She spotted the other police vehicles and the funeral home hearse and pulled in. Sam Cantrell, one of her deputies was waiting.

"You're not going to believe this," he said, leading the way into the woods.

"What do you mean?"

"God, Gina, he..." his voice trembled, "you'll just have to see it for yourself."

Her deputy's remarks made her even more apprehensive, but she was determined to show her fortitude, no matter what lay ahead. She was sheriff now, even though the election had been close, primarily because many of the locals, men and women, just weren't sure a woman was up to the job of sheriff, even if the most hazardous thing she had had to do up to this point was arrest a few drunks in Capston, the county seat.

They walked through heavy timber for the next few minutes until entering a small clearing. At the end of the clearing stood her other deputy Todd Green and Ben McCauley. As she approached they parted to give Gina her first look at the body.

She stopped short, almost gasping. What had once been a rather attractive brunette was lashed with rope to the blood soaked tree. Two hunting arrows, one in her lower abdomen, the other in her heart, were clear evidence as to how she had died.

"How... how long..." she asked

"She's been dead less than twenty four hours. I don't have the sophisticated stuff here to be any more accurate than that. I'll order an autopsy. We'll have to send her down to Denver for that."

Gina shook her head in the affirmative and reluctantly stepped forward. She reached out her hand to lift up the head which was slumped against the chest, but stopped, looking to the coroner.

"No, it's OK. I've done about all I can here. She was raped and sodomized. There's also semen in her mouth. I've taken samples. "

Gina lifted the head to stare into the sightless eyes and open mouth which, even in death, seemed to be screaming in abject terror. She was pretty, thought Gina, very pretty.

"Any I.D.? she asked her deputies.

"Nope, nothing. We searched all around for about a hundred yard radius. Couldn't find anything but her clothes there," said Todd, motioning to the shirt, jeans and shoes and socks scattered near the base of the tree. "Her... uh, bra and panties are missing as well as any kind of wallet or purse.

"Photos?" asked the sheriff.

"Four rolls. I tried to get every angle I could think of... there is one thing."

"What's that?"

"He wasn't alone. There were at least two of them. We found two other sets of boot prints beside hers."

"That would account for the large amount of semen in her," interjected Ben, "I've taken several samples. They will have to go to Denver as well. DNA will probably confirm what Todd says."

"Get the footprint kit. I want plaster molds of those prints."

"Sure thing Gina... er, Sheriff," said Sam, embarrassed by his casual address in front of the coroner.

"What about Whitmore?" she asked

"Larry Whitmore, the rancher who found her?" responded Sam, " I questioned him for about fifteen minutes, but he couldn't really tell us anything he hadn't already told you over the phone. He was hunting and found her about seven this morning."

"Does Whitmore own a bow?" asked Gina.

"Yeah, sure he does, but so do about half the ranchers in the county. Look Sheriff, I've known Larry almost all my life. He's a straight up guy. Sure, he's single and likes to party with the ladies, but this is just not Larry. No way!"

"OK, OK for now," she said, trying desperately to run through her mind a checklist of things to do -- making sure they had not overlooked anything obvious and were doing nothing to destroy any chance for evidence that might come back to haunt them later. The bungled investigation of the little girl who had been brutally murdered in Boulder kept nagging at her.

"Is it all right if we take her down?" asked Ben, "I'd like to get her to Denver as soon as possible.

"Yeah, sure. Todd, I want you to bag her clothes and the rope. I want those arrows dusted for prints and see if you can find where they were purchased. Look around again. Maybe you missed something the first time. Sam, as soon as you get those footprint molds, I want you to get a picture of her face on the wire to Denver and the surrounding counties. Maybe we'll get lucky with an I.D. Also I want to know if anyone matching her description has been reported missing. Then I want you to check with those other counties and see if anything like this has turned up elsewhere: rape, torture, murder. Get that out as soon as you get back to the office."

"Right Sheriff," her deputies answered in unison.

"Oh, what about tire tracks?"

"I'm afraid if there were any, we pretty well wiped them out with our own as we drove up," replied Sam, dropping his eyes in shame.

"Yeah, well, take a look anyway, you might get lucky," she said as she thought to herself, there's one we've botched already.

All the way back to town, Gina kept seeing the woman's tortured expression.

That night Gina took a long warm bath before turning in. The day had been long and tiring. She was still haunted by the look on the woman's face. Gina closed her eyes and imagined what the woman might have been like before the attack, smiling, her long brunette hair flowing over her shoulders. Gina' s hands began wandering over her body. A closet Lesbian, Gina had known what that kind of knowledge would do to her chances of being elected sheriff. So she had hidden her sexuality behind her badge, doing her job, first as a deputy and now as sheriff, while longing for the kind of relationship she saw others enjoy. Her own adolescence had been underscored with awkward dates with boys, followed by experimentation with a female classmate and the realization that she was somehow different. The classmate had moved on to boys, crushing Gina who had then, seriously contemplated suicide. Finishing school, she had entered the police academy where she had disappointed many of the male recruits by refusing their advances. Desperate for affection, she had blundered, badly misreading a female recruit's intentions and kissing the woman, who let her know in no uncertain terms what she thought of "butchs". As the word got around, Gina became a pariah and gradually withdrew from the other recruits. It was then she had accepted her role as outcast and buried herself in her studies, finishing second in her class.

Would the woman, she wondered have found her attractive? Her hands cupped her small but firm breasts, pinched her nipples to erection and then began wandering over her trim hips and thighs, stroking her shapely legs and finally finding her nest. She gasped as her fingers found her mound of pleasure and she imagined the fingers were those of the brunette.

Her fingers were practiced and she orgasmed easily, whining slightly as her body spasmed in release.

The image of the pretty brunette played across her mind once more. Who are you? she wondered as she stepped from the tub and began drying herself -- and what happened to you out there?

The answers to her questions all lay in the events of the day before.

Cathy Melton had simply chosen the wrong place and the wrong time to experience a flat tire. The wife and mother of a two year old had come to the mountains alone to think through her marriage and future. Her husband had just admitted he had been seeing another woman for months and now wanted a divorce. The news had struck her like a thunderbolt, totally unexpected and totally devastating. She had, at first, fallen apart, weeping for days, unable to think or act. Gradually, she had come to accept the truth, but now simply wanted and needed some time alone to decide what her course of action would be. A close friend had agreed to keep her daughter over the weekend while Cathy sorted out her future and the future of her daughter since her husband had asked for custody.

Having gotten on the road early that morning, she was only a few miles from the turnoff leading to the campsite when a front tire had suddenly lost pressure and she was forced to pull onto the shoulder. Cathy had unloaded the jack, but when she could not loosen the lug nuts on the flat tire, had raised the hood of her Blazer to flag down some help.

Travis and Elwood Williams were heading back into the mountains in their pickup after an unsuccessful foray into town the night before. The two brothers, both in their early thirties, were the offspring of a self proclaimed "mountain man" and the woman he had kidnapped and taken to his mountain hideaway years ago. She had borne him the two sons, but had died at the age of forty-two, more from a broken spirit than from the beatings and rapings he had administered. When her own sons began raping her with the father's approval, the woman could stand it no longer and had killed herself. The father had died the year after in a fall, leaving the two brothers to fend for themselves. They, like their father seldom came down from the mountains, but, lonesome and horny, they had made a foray into town last night to find themselves a "wife". They had approached a woman at a bar who Travis, the older brother, tried to talk into coming out to the parking lot where Elwood was to grab her from behind, force her into their truck, and they would have their "wife", just as their father had done years before. But she had immediately rebuffed the two scraggly bearded, dirty and smelly men and when they began to try to force her to leave, a man playing pool in the back had approached them and stared them down, the brothers turning tail and withdrawing without a fight.

"Bet we could have had her if that son-of-a-bitch hadn't interfered," said Elwood.

"I should've just punched him out right there," blustered Travis.

"Yeah, you could've took him easy," bragged Elwood.

"Then we'd of had us a good piece of pussy by now."

"Shame too. She weren't bad looking."

"Well, we'll find one somewh... Whoa, what we got here?" wondered Travis, slowing the pickup and pulling in behind the blazer with the attractive woman standing beside it.

"Howdy Missy, I'm Travis and this here's my brother Elwood," said the older brother as they got out and approached the woman.

"Hi, I'm Cathy Melton. My tire blew but I can't seem to get the lug nuts loose."

"Probably rusted on. They do that a lot."

"Do you think you can help?" she asked.

"Why of course Missy," said Travis, looking up and down the road to make sure there was no traffic coming and then nodding to his smiling brother.

A hand came around from behind and clamped across her mouth, the other hand went around her waist and lifted her momentarily into the air as Elwood maneuvered her toward their truck.

"Owwww! the bitch bite me," howled the younger Williams turning loose of the struggling woman.

"Hell Elwood, all you got to do is this!" said Travis matter of factly as he punched Cathy in the stomach viciously, doubling her over in agony. Gasping for breath, the attractive brunette could offer no resistance as the two shoved her into the truck between them and drove off.

"Please, don't hurt me," she gasped, trying to regain her breath.

"We ain't gonna hurt ya Missy. We just gonna fuck ya. Then we gonna take you to our place. You gonna be our woman."

The brunette's eyes widened in first disbelief, then terror.

"Please, I have some money. It's back in my purse, in my car."

"Don't need no money when we got a purty thing like you."

"But... but... you can't do this!"

"Missy, we done done it. You're ours now. You a good fuck?" asked Elwood

The question flabbergasted her into speechlessness.

"You better be, otherwise we gonna have to train you, just like daddy did to momma."

"... Train... ? she asked in a frightened voice.

"He means beat the shit out of you until you fuck like we want you to," answered Travis grinning.

Elwood grabbed her breast and began squeezing. Cathy turned to face him and then spit in his face. The younger Williams retaliated with a series of slaps, addling their captive while he pulled out a hunting knife and stuck it against her ribs.

"Do it again bitch and you're crow bait."

Cathy's eyes were again wide with fear. This time Elwood held the knife against her as he reached under her shirt with the other hand and again began squeezing her breasts.

"Please, I have a little girl at home," pleaded Cathy.

"Hmmmm, already been bred, huh? smiled Travis. "In that case you ought to make us some fine babies."

"You... you want me to... ?" questioned Cathy in disbelief.

"Well of course you stupid bitch. That's what women are for, to be fucked and bred, just like Daddy and us did to Momma."

"I sure am horny," announced Elwood, "here, Missy suck me off," he commanded unzipping his pants and withdrawing his erect, unwashed penis.