Native Cowboy by Rita Herron Page B

house.”
    The reminder sent a shudder through her. But she didn’t know if she could sleep with Mason so close by, either.
    “Go on to bed,” he said. “I’ll take the couch.”
    Grateful for the reprieve from the discussion about their son, she hurried to the bedroom, then shut the door.
    But as she crawled into bed, the image of that navel fetish and Nellie’s face taunted her. And it was all she could do not to get up and beg Mason to come to bed with her.
    * * *
    M ASON WATCHED THE DOOR close and gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to join Cara, he couldn’t.
    He had to force his mind back on the case.
    Getting distracted by his personal feelings might mean Cara’s life.
    That is, if they were dealing with a repeat offender. His gut instinct told him it was only a matter of time before they found another body.
    That whoever had killed her had left this navel fetish to make a point. He wanted the Winchester Clinic shut down, and he would kill to get his message across.
    Mason had to stop him before the bastard took any more lives.
    He phoned Sheriff McRae to fill him in. “I’m sending this note and the navel fetish to the lab in the morning. I also have letters Cara received that I want the lab to analyze.”
    “You think he may come after Dr. Winchester?” Sheriff McRae asked.
    Fear clutched Mason’s chest. “Yes. But at this point, he may be trying to punish her by making her watch other women die.”
    He hung up, his head reeling. This madman wanted to make Cara feel guilty for the other women’s deaths.
    Torment was his game of lust.
    Dammit, he would find the SOB and lock him up forever.
    He would not let him hurt Cara or his child.
    * * *
    H E LIT THE COALS inside the sweat hut, then stood at the top of the boulder and looked across at the plains. His father had taught him about the ways of the Natives while his mother had been nothing but a cheating whore.
    He grasped onto the values of the Comanches, closed his eyes and willed the gods to hear his pleas to save the mothers who selfishly sinned and coveted their own pleasures instead of their God-given task of protecting and taking care of their young.
    The blood from the woman he’d freed from sin tonight still stained his skin, but he dipped his fingers into the icy stream, washing the blood away. The crimson color mingled with the clear saintly water and flowed downstream.
    The blood had been washed away just as her sins had when he’d bled them from her tainted soul.
    A peaceful feeling overcame him as he imagined Dr. Winchester finding the amulet he’d left for her. She was an instrument for evil.
    And she had to be stopped.
    But she had to be punished first.
    Taking solace from the fact that he’d finally begun his mission, he stripped his clothes, laid them on the rocks and stepped inside the sweat hut.
    Now he would cleanse himself and prepare for the next sinner.

Chapter Nine
    Cara finally fell into a fitful sleep. But in her dreams she was running from a madman.
    He waved a knife in the air, its shiny glint flickering against the darkness.
    His face was shrouded in the night, his growl an animal-like sound as he bellowed her name.
    A spasm of pain shot through her belly, and she clutched her stomach, the pressure of the contraction nearly bringing her to her knees. But she couldn’t stop.
    She had to keep running. Had to save her baby.
    She suddenly tripped over a group of rocks, then plowed to the ground. A scream caught in her throat when she saw that she’d landed on top of Nellie Thompson’s body.
    “I’ve got you now,” he snarled. “You’ll pay for your sins.”
    She screamed and tried to push up, but her hand touched the cold stiffness of Nellie’s skin, and horror rippled through her. Still, she clawed at the ground, dirt sifting through her fingers as she rolled herself away.
    He lunged toward her and grabbed her arm, but she twisted and fought him, desperate to pull herself up and escape. But her bulk made it too