Treasure of the Golden Cheetah

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Authors: Suzanne Arruda

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BOOK: Treasure of the Golden Cheetah
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Table of Contents
 
 
OTHER BOOKS IN THE JADE DEL CAMERON SERIES
Mark of the Lion
Stalking Ivory
The Serpent’s Daughter
The Leopard’s Prey
OBSIDIAN
Published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, September 2009
Copyright © Suzanne Arruda, 2009
All rights reserved
OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Arruda, Suzanne Middendorf, 1954-
Treasure of the golden cheetah: a Jade del Cameron mystery/Suzanne Arruda.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-13617-1
 
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
 
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
 
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This book is dedicated to my new daughter, Emily.
Welcome to our family.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
MY THANKS TO the Pittsburg State University Axe Library Interlibrary Loan staff for their tireless efforts to help me run down the railroad manuals, especially the 1919
Handbook of Railways in Africa Vol. I
; The National Wild Turkey Federation’s Women in the Outdoors for their fun, adventure-oriented programs; Dr. John Daley, history department chair, Pittsburg State University, and Jim Williamson, roving editor of
Gun Week
, for assistance with rifles and blanks; Dr. David Middendorf for some ideas on delaying trains; Mr. Pat Cedeno, vice president of Growth Initiatives for WATCO Companies, and to the WATCO Locomotive Group, for advice on sun kinks in the rail lines; Mr. David Mars of Vintage Air Tours and his 1929 Curtiss-Wright Travel Air for the open-cockpit experience; author Terry (Tessa) McDermid for her help as my writing buddy; my publicist, Megan Swartz, for all her hard work; my agent, Susan Gleason, and my editor, Ellen Edwards, for their continued belief in and efforts on behalf of the series; all my family—“The Dad,” James, Michael, Dave, Nancy, Cynthia, and Emily—for helping me shamelessly promote the books. I especially wish to thank Joe, the greatest husband and Webmaster a writer could ever want, for all his help and support; and Wooly Bear for continuing to keep her hairballs off the keyboard.
Any mistakes are my own, despite the best efforts of my excellent instructors.
CHAPTER 1
KENYA COLONY,
Mid-September 1920
The frontiers of Africa have been pushed back. What was once inaccessible has become commonplace. The newest site falling prey to such familiarity is the seat of God, Kilimanjaro.
—The Traveler
THE WOMAN ASTRIDE THE POPPY RED INDIAN POWER PLUS MOTORCYCLE would have been considered beautiful in many cultures. Her appeal went beyond her lithe, well-muscled figure, her short hair rippling in black waves around an olive complexion, or her eyes the color of brilliant moss.
No, her real beauty lay in her strength of character, in her easy grace and confidence, and it echoed in her soft contralto laugh. To Sam Featherstone, Jade del Cameron was simply the most gorgeous creature on earth, and that included the powerful male cheetah that stood beside her. Even from six hundred feet up in the air he could spot her beauty, though most of it was presently hidden under the broad brim of a battered, brown felt hat.
Sam leaned a little farther out of the front cockpit and signaled Jade by pointing north. His friend and fellow pilot, Lord Avery Dunbury, sat behind him at the controls so that Sam could man the movie camera. Communication between cockpits wasn’t practical because of the noise from wind and the biplane’s OX-5 engine singing its purring hymn to the sky. Sam glanced over his shoulder at Avery and nodded. Avery gave him a thumbs-up, and they climbed to eight hundred feet, banking north.
The Curtiss JN-4, or “Jenny,” responded smoothly, testimony to the loving care Sam gave it, or perhaps to the brightly painted symbols on its wings and the beads on the spars and wires, gifts of the Maasai who’d once guarded it. Sam spied the herd first, a mixture of eland, greater kudu, and Thomson’s gazelles. He readied his camera and signaled with a swirling hand gesture to Avery.
They circled around the animals, keeping enough distance from them to avoid spooking the herd. At least not yet. Sam cranked film as Avery banked the Jenny, giving Sam a clearer view of the terrain and the animals. When they’d approached the herd’s rear, putting the herd between themselves and Jade, Sam turned towards Avery and stabbed his index finger down. He saw Avery’s broad grin as he shoved the stick forward and dove to three hundred feet, making a beeline for the animals.
The effect was instantaneous. The terrified beasts wheeled as one and raced away into the dry grassland. Their hooves pounded the parched earth, churning up rusty-red dust. Avery veered a few degrees east and herded the animals from the rear quarter like an aerial sheepdog. As the herd neared the cheetah, Sam trained his camera on the cat. Jade had already moved discreetly out of view, but he knew she was close by, watching. Sam only hoped he’d be able to capture everything on film. Of course, the bigger question was, would Biscuit cooperate?
He did. The sleek, spotted cat crouched for an instant and focused on one outlying animal, a Thomson’s gazelle. Then, in a blur of gold and black, the cat bounded after the small antelope. His forelimbs reached out as his rear legs pushed back, extending his body to a long line. As first one, then the other forelimb touched earth and drove down, his hind feet pulled forward until they passed the front legs. With his deep barrel chest, Biscuit was the consummate athlete, drawing in oxygen to power his muscles, pushing himself past sixty miles per hour in his sprint.
The race ended in eight seconds. Biscuit overtook the little antelope and tripped it, sending it sprawling along the ground. In the next instant, he’d clamped his jaws over the animal’s throat, suffocating it. Sam only hoped he’d cranked film fast enough to capture the action.

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