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    Skinwalker: Ray Corngrow Saga, #5
    Skinwalker: Ray Corngrow Saga, #5
    Skinwalker: Ray Corngrow Saga, #5
    Ebook142 pages2 hours

    Skinwalker: Ray Corngrow Saga, #5

    By Jessie Cox

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    About this ebook

    Ray Corngrower Saga Book 5. Creek Nation Lighthorse Sergeant John Littlefeather is sent to Nevada with an extradition warrant. When he arrives, he finds that his prisoner has been released, John disguised as a prospector, hopes to make a citizen’s arrest, but instead must make a strange alliance in order to challenge a greater evil, than the man he is after.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJessie Cox
    Release dateDec 14, 2016
    ISBN9781386898580
    Skinwalker: Ray Corngrow Saga, #5
    Author

    Jessie Cox

    Jessie Cox, born: 1948. Raised on Creek land by his grandmother. A citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. Ex law enforcement, Chief Engineer's License..Steam Plants, spent several years as a gold prospector, a freelance writer/columnist, and lived/worked in Alaska. Thus far there are seven books in the Ray Corngrower series. "The Infant Carrier", "The House in Banes Meadow", "Cheechako", "The Good Red Road", "The Skinwalker, a John Littlefeather novel" "The Manitou" and "Where the Wind Whispers My Name" are available in both paperback and ebook. These books are based on actual Native American legend and sprinkled liberally with laughter,tears and a writers imagination. Life experience also plays a large part. I find the saying that 'you can't write about what you do not know" to be a truism. In closing, I'd like to thank my friends and the constant readers for their valuable input on my tales. My eighth novel "The Spencer Rifle"  "Book one of the Trail of Blood on Ice trilogy" is set in the period of just before and during the US Civil War, but is written in the Cherokee and Creek point of view. "Round Mountain" is the second book and covers the end of the Civil War and a few years following. "Washita" is the final book in the saga and is set in the years after the second book. I think the historical fiction fan will enjoy these novels. Look for "Moon Dancer" to be on the market soon. Taken from the short story of the same title, it is Book one of the "Sons of Creek" series.  Amos Corngrower (Ray's son) and Tim Littlefeather (John's son) are the main characters in this series Following in their fathers footsteps against the monsters of Native American legend. To the Cheechakos (the new comers, In Alaska Inuit) I'll say "Hersce". (Creek for hello) JC

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      Book preview

      Skinwalker - Jessie Cox

      Chapter 1

      ––––––––

      The Nevada sunset had a beauty that few words could describe.  The full moon hung low and large, surrounded by an indigo blue sky, while beneath it a wide band of pink faded into the last gold rays of the setting sun.  Soon, when the sun had set, thousands of desert jackrabbits and a lesser number of cottontails would gather on the dirt tracks, that passed for roads and in the open areas for their nightly courtship rituals. This of course, brought hungry coyotes and the few remaining desert wolves, to partake of the bounty.  It is nature that the fast and the sharp of fang survive.

      A man dressed in clothes stained with salt and sweat, sat on the tailgate of a pickup truck, sipping from cold bottled water, as he watched his partner work his way down a steep dry hill in the growing dark.

      Opening the cooler, he handed him a cold bottle and said, I was beginning to worry.  The sun is almost down and the sidewinders will be out soon.  I thought that you might not get back before it got dark.

      Yeah, replied his partner, it would be a shame, if I died of snakebite and you had to keep all that nasty gold for yourself.

      Don't start with me, Jack, said the first man, switching on an electric lantern, I'm not in the mood for it.  I've told you a hundred times that I don't hygrade from my partner, especially when he just happens to be my brother.

      Yeah, yeah, Bill, replied Jack, that gold in the pouch must have evaporated.  It was silly of me to even consider that my own brother would steal from me!

      Other than to add to the pouch, I've not touched it, exclaimed Bill.

      Gold affects people strange, said Jack, as he set the water on the tailgate and unsnapped the strap that held his pistol in place, makes them crazy with unreasoning greed.  Now if you will show me where you stashed the gold that you took, we'll still be at quits as partners, but I will let you live.

      Sergeant John Littlefeather of the Creek Nation Lighthorse waited until all of the passengers were deplaned, before standing up to remove his small valise from the overhead compartment walk toward the hatch just aft of the cockpit, where a smiling stewardess waited.  She watched in appreciation, taking note of the highly polished brown boots, the crisp creased khaki uniform and the dark face beneath a tan Stetson, as the officer approached.  When he was almost to her, she reached into the galley and took out his service revolver that was in the shined holster and gun belt.

      Did you have a pleasant flight? asked the Stewardess.

      It was fine, replied John but every time I looked up I noticed the man across the aisle was staring at me.

      A heavy set balding man with a moustache? asked the woman.

      Yes, said John, he was starting to make me uneasy.

      Oh, not to worry, replied the Stewardess, that was David Hill.  He is the Sky Marshall on this flight. He's a bit weird, but mostly harmless.

      David Hill?  mused John I thought he looked vaguely familiar, but I guess I don't know him.

      Are you going to be in Reno long? asked the woman.

      No, replied John, I'll rent a car and drive to Winnemucca tonight, then pick up a prisoner in the morning and drive back to catch the redeye to Tulsa, tomorrow night.

      That's a shame, said the woman, oh well.  Have a good trip and be safe.

      John stuffed his gun belt and holstered revolver into his bag, then smiled and tipped his hat, as he left the plane.

      After a quick call to Timmy, to let him know that he had landed safely, John found a car rental agency in the airport and arranged a car.

      Completing the required paperwork, John started for the parking lot to find his rental.  The sun was intense after the cool of the terminal, but the sweat that should have beaded his brow, was evaporated before it could form.

      After what seemed an eternity in hell, he found the car with plates and color that matched those listed on his invoice.  Though the windows had been left down just enough to let some of the heat escape, the interior seemed hotter than the air outside.

      Opening the door, John tossed his valise onto the back seat, then sat down and started the car.  A quick flick of his fingers turned the air-conditioning to maximum.  Leaving the door open until the vents were blowing cold, John shut the door and backed out of the space, but before driving from the lot, fastened his seatbelt.

      No need to have to explain to the local law, why a cop wasn't wearing a seatbelt, John said, to himself. Putting the car in drive, he soon found his way to east Interstate 80.  Turning on the radio, he found a Classic Rock station.  Setting the cruise control, he made his mind a blank.  Assuming a thousand-yard stare, he hummed along with the music.  A hundred miles east of Reno something caught his eye.  What looked like smoke billowing from between boulders on either side of the highway.  Slowing to see what was on fire, John saw a sign that read Warning! Hot Springs!  The water is poison!  No swimming or bathing!  You will be scalded to death, before you can get out!

      Dayum! John swore, Pity the frontier family, in their covered wagon, that after days in the desert and out of water, came upon this trick of the devil.

      An hour later, he stopped at the truck stop/casino/restaurant and motel at Puckerbush. Unlike many other truck stops, the food was excellent, the service, friendly and the overheard snatches of conversation of the prospectors and desert rats interesting.

      Whooee!  Look at that nugget! exclaimed a younger man, dressed in a clean pressed shirt, sitting at a table with three grizzled men, who looked like they had gotten their clothes out of the dumpster at the Salvation Army,  Where did you find that?

      Never ask that, around here, growled one of the men as the nugget disappeared back into his pocket.

      Well, said the younger man, it doesn't matter anyway.  I've found gold too.  Not as big as nuggets you have, but I found them.

      Oh? asked one of the other bearded men, before taking a sip of hid drink, Let's see your goods, Greenhorn.  You've been here for three days and have already found gold?  I don't believe it.

      The young man pulled a small water filled vial from his pocket and proudly set it on the table.  The small nuggets magnified by the water, gleamed brightly in the bottom of the vial.

      You say, you found these around here? asked the first man.

      I sure did, exclaimed the greenhorn, but I won't tell you where.

      I call bullshit, stated the first man, That gold didn't come from Nevada.  It's California gold.  You can tell by the color.  You bought it from someone, didn't you?

      What if I did? asked the young man, I'm going home to Ohio to open a metal detecting shop and offer prospecting expeditions.  No one back there will know the difference between California gold and Nevada gold.

      The first man looked at his two friends, as he stood up.  He waited until the other two were on their feet before saying; This place has plenty of sidewinders already.  I suggest that you find somewhere else to be.

      John smiled as he watched the three men stalk to another table.  Then, in the booth behind him, he heard...and I'm tellin' yuh', it don't pay to screw over no Injun' in these parts.  Look what happened to Colorado Slim and Wild Willie!  That Injun' took em' on as partners to finance and help work his claim.  Then one night, the two of them grabbed all the gold and lit out.  The Injun' swore revenge, but there was nothing he could do legally.  Two weeks later, Slim was crushed by the bulldozer he parked on a hill and forgot to put in gear.

      That don't mean there was Injun' mojo involved, said a voice from the other side of the divider.

      Oh yeah?  questioned the first speaker, You don't think it strange that Willie went to sleep as he was coming into town and drowned when his truck ran off into the Carson River, which has two feet of water at the most, this time of year?

      John slid out of his booth.  Leaving a tip on the table, he started toward the register to pay his bill, when he heard. He killed him, I say...

      John paused.

      Takes a mighty mean man to kill his own brother, said another voice.

      Not where gold is concerned, replied the first voice.  I've never heard of a man walking away from a paying claim, without there being something underfoot going on.

      Even if there was something bad happening, no one will ever know, added a third voice, there are too many places to hide a body, where it can't be found.

      That's true, but I still think that Texas Jack did his brother in.

      John thought to try to take a statement, but realized his trying to help would be viewed as interference by the local law enforcement.

      Not my job, nor my jurisdiction, he told himself.

      After paying his bill, he went out in the still sweltering heat to find his car.

      Chapter 2

      The old Silver Streak travel trailer, hooked to the back of a modern SUV, sat gleaming in the desert morning sun.  A family gathered at a shaded picnic table beneath the side awning.

      On the table, plates of fried eggs, home fried potatoes; bacon and biscuits were passed around to the man, his wife and two boys.

      You boys eat hearty, said the man, taking a sip from his coffee cup, gold hunting can be hard work.

      I've filled all of your canteens with cold sweet tea. said the woman, as she reached for the coffee pot to refill both hers and her husband's cups, While I'm less concerned about your thirst, than I am snakes, I still don't want you boys to wander out of sight of the trailer.

      Aw, Mom!  exclaimed the younger of the

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