by Kris Bock
“Hide,” Nascha said. We scrambled away from the door and hid in the farthest row, near the marijuana.
My heart thumped as I tried to control my breathing so they wouldn’t hear the rasping. The seconds ticked away slowly and my thighs started to burn from crouching. Maybe they weren’t coming back after all. It was nearly five; maybe they’d head home for the day. Or maybe they were standing outside, having a smoke. Maybe they were almost at the door, and if we went to check they’d open it in our faces.
My calves felt uncomfortably stretched. I needed to shift into another position, especially if we’d be stuck for a while. Ricky was on his hands and knees. Nascha sat cross-legged, which looked more comfortable. I shifted my weight back.
The door creaked open. I sat down hard and bit back a grunt that was fortunately covered by Jay’s voice. “… why they can’t just send an e-mail. Let’s shut down and get out of here.”
Through the gaps between boxes, pots, and bags stored under the tables, I saw his legs turn toward the office. The other set of legs went in the opposite direction, toward the big racks of equipment. I knew from the previous time I’d snuck in that someone back there wouldn’t have a clear view of the room or the door. But could we get out before either of them came back?
If we waited, they might leave without ever seeing us. Or they might check the whole room before leaving. I glanced back and saw switches on the wall behind us, probably for lights or water systems. Jay had said, “shut down.”
I gestured Ricky toward the door. He nodded, his face pale and oddly tinged in the greenish light, and started crawling.
My hands came down on loose dirt and stray woodchips. The cement floor was painful under my knees. My shoes dragged across the floor with a faint scraping sound.
I shifted into a crouch and shuffled forward, bent over, right behind Ricky. I could barely hear Nascha’s soft breathing behind us.
As we passed between the last rows, I glanced to the right and saw Rodrigo, turned away from us and half hidden among the equipment racks. My heart jumped and I wanted to leap forward, but with Ricky right in front of me I could only keep waddling. A second later Ricky was at the door. Escape was in reach.
I heard a door close to our left and then the sound of a handle turning as someone checked to be sure the door was locked. Ricky glanced back at me with huge eyes, one hand resting on our exit. To our right I heard the shuffle of feet on cement. Nascha crowded close behind me.
I waved Ricky forward. He pushed past the door on hands and knees. I shoved through after him and tried to haul him up with me as I stood. Nascha squeezed out behind us, and before the door swung shut we were running.
“Left!” Nascha gasped as we neared the corner of the greenhouse. I glanced back as we swung around it and thought I saw the greenhouse door opening, though I couldn’t be sure from that brief, blurred glimpse. Nascha pointed at a door in the back of the resort. She sorted through her keys as we cut across the lawn at an angle. I looked back as she unlocked the door and thought I saw a shadow through the translucent plastic panes on the corner of the greenhouse. Then we tumbled through the door and pulled it shut behind us.
We paused, gasping. I’d never used this door before so it took me a few seconds to recognize the hallway that led past the employee break room and then connected to the hall with our offices. “That was close,” Nascha said.
“I don’t think they saw us.”
Sweat beaded Ricky’s flushed face, but he grinned. “That was great!”
I leaned against the door, waiting for the trembling to stop, and shook my head. “I don’t agree with your idea of fun. But at least we did find something. I can’t believe he would run that operation from here!”
Nascha pushed her hair back from her face. “It’s crazy, but smart, too. What place is better than this? We live in the mountains, with snow in winter and not enough rain in summer, so he can’t simply pick a remote spot in the wilderness. He has everything he needs here, and he doesn’t have to keep the pot in his house. Even now, it will be hard to prove he’s the one responsible. No one will believe he didn’t know about it, but a good lawyer could make the case for circumstantial evidence.”
I sighed. “Well, at least it should keep him distracted for a while.”
“You’re right. But Audra, let me report this. You’ve attracted enough attention, and enough trouble from Jay’s father.”
“I won’t argue with that, but Mr. Preppard will be after you if you get his son in trouble.”
She shrugged. “I do excellent work and I have friends here. And if I do lose this job, it’s not the end of the world. I can go somewhere else. You want to stay here with your family.”
I looked at Ricky. “All right. But you know the police will ask how you found this. It’s hard to explain without telling everything. I learned that when I tried to report the body and leave Jay out of it.”
“I won’t lie, and no doubt they’ll want to talk to you. But we can try to keep your part quiet around here. I’ll make sure the police understand why that’s important.”
“Thank you.”
Nascha tried to brush the dirt off her backside. “So what, if anything, does this have to do with Bethany Moore’s death?”
I thought a moment and then let out a long sigh. “Probably nothing,” I admitted. “If Jay had killed her, he surely wouldn’t lead me to her body when he had this to hide. But I guess the police can decide for sure. They have a good excuse to investigate him now. Maybe they’ll find something to tie him to Bethany.”
The police might try to tie the two cases together. That would be easy and neat. But I found it hard to believe Jay had anything to do with the murder. That meant the killer was still out there, walking free.
Chapter 36
The next morning, the rumors were all about Jay. Neither he nor his father showed up to work. A police officer was stationed at the greenhouse. The media moved in, but security guards tried to keep the cameras contained in the parking lot. With Mr. Preppard absent, Eslinda took over as spokesperson, expressing shock and dismay that such a thing could happen on resort property, laying the blame on a rogue employee—because of course such a thing would never be tolerated by management—and vowing complete cooperation with the police.
When things finally settled down, she came into my office and collapsed in the guest chair. “I know you wanted to stop Jay, but really? Turning the resort into a circus is a bit extreme.”
I winced. “I’m sorry. We had no idea we’d find—”
She waved me to silence. “Not your fault. It might have been nice to handle this quietly—fire Jay and Rodrigo, remove the evidence, pretend nothing happened—but that would make us all accessories to a crime.” She sighed. “They want to know if this had anything to do with the murder.”
I looked down at the paper on my desk, where I’d been absently drawing curlicues in the margin. “What did you say?”
She sat up straight, opened her eyes wide, and somehow managed to look young and a bit silly. “I put on my best innocent look and said I didn’t see any connection.” She slumped down again and closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry I got you and the resort involved in this. I’m sorry it’s making us all look bad.”
She didn’t open her eyes. “Oh well. You can’t buy publicity like this. That’s what I’m telling the directors.” She settled deeper in the chair and yawned. “Maybe we can set up a crime tour package. Could be good business.”
“I think I want to be like you when I grow up.”
She gave a sly smile. “Oh honey, you can wish.” She sat up and clapped her hands. “Back to work. What have I missed?”
I glanced at my notes. “The caterers are worked up because they don’t know if they’ll have access to salad greens and herbs from the greenhouse. I told them to make other arrangements for the rest of this week.”
“Good.”
“At least it doesn’t matter for the big game hunt event, beca
use we have the outside vendors.”
“Not like that crowd would be eating organic greens and fresh herbs anyway.” Eslinda sighed. “I wish that wasn’t this weekend. All those macho men in fatigues, guns, the idea of violence—it’s bad timing. I wish we had something nice and sophisticated, like a wine tasting, or a family-friendly day of magicians and jugglers.”
“I’m not crazy about hunting anyway.” Okay, technically I’d been hunting with Kyle, but that was different. “But at least they won’t actually be hunting during the event.”
“No, just playing with guns.”
The hunting season wouldn’t start until August, with a brief window for bears, and then it picked up in October for elk hunting. The resort set up packages on the Reservation with Native guides and provided lodging, meals, and transportation. They even had people to pack out the meat, dress it, and mail it to the hunters’ homes.
With limited hunting licenses available for the big animals, and the deadline for applications coming up soon, the “big game hunt” event that Saturday was more of a fair, with displays, safety training, talks by the guides, and carnival-style games for the kids. Still, I could see what Eslinda meant about bad timing. The big game hunts had a high profit margin, but they were a small part of our business, and given the resort’s recent association with drugs and murder, any suggestion of violence might hurt the reputation.
“I don’t see what we can do about it,” I said.
“No. Except make it as family-friendly as possible. Promote the games for kids and encourage women to participate as well, so we can’t be accused of encouraging male violence. Invite any women you know. How about your mother?”
“That could be interesting.”
My phone beeped, signaling an incoming text. I glanced at it and saw a message from Kyle. “Baby falcon born this morning. Come see after work? Bring Ricky.”
I smiled. A baby falcon had to be adorable. I looked across at Eslinda. “Hey, I have an idea. I know this really neat lady who keeps falcons and hawks. Maybe she’d bring one of them to the event and talk about it. She could focus on how the falconers are helping preserve wild lands and how they saved the peregrine from extinction.”
“Hmm, play up the conservation angle. And it’s a woman? That could help balance out the testosterone.” She stood. “See if she’ll do it.”
“I’ll talk to her after work.” As Eslinda left, I started texting Kyle. Of course I wanted to see the baby, and Ricky would be thrilled. Bringing him meant this wouldn’t turn into a real date, but it was nice that Kyle wasn’t solely focused on getting me alone. I could ask Nancy about Saturday. She’d make a better spokesperson for falconry than Kyle under these circumstances, but maybe he’d come as well. And maybe afterward we could spend some time alone together.
And see if I could answer his challenge to letting him know what I wanted.
Ricky couldn’t keep still as we drove out after work. “I want to take pictures. And video.” He bounced and fidgeted in his seat. “Do you think she’ll let me?”
“Probably. But make sure you ask permission before you share anything online.”
He jumped out to open the gate. As he closed it behind us, I watched him in the rearview mirror, smiled, and started pulling ahead. He ran after the car, laughing. I parked down by the house and got out as he came panting up. “I thought you needed to burn off some energy,” I said.
He tried to poke me in the side but I dodged, slung an arm around his shoulders, and turned him toward the house. The door opened and Nancy waved to us. “Well if it isn’t two of my new favorite people! Come in, come in.” Her beaming smile suggested she had a good idea of my developing relationship with Kyle. I wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed, or flattered that she obviously approved.
My heart speeded up as I looked for Kyle, but Daniel was the only one in the kitchen. I suspected he was responsible for the mouthwatering smell of chocolate chip cookies, which was enough to make anyone feel welcome. I could hardly blame him for my disappointment.
Nancy said, “Kyle will be home any minute.” Obviously he’d inherited his ability to read my mind from his grandmother. “Which first,” she asked, “cookies or falcon chick?”
Ricky hesitated, eyeing the plate of oversized cookies on the table, but finally said, “The falcon chick, please.”
I expected Nancy to head back outside, to the building where the birds lived, but instead she led the way down the hall and into a small room that had the same zoo-like mustiness as the bird building, though fainter. She crouched by a rubber tub, lifted the lid, and pulled out something. She set the thing down on a towel. It was a scraggly bit of white fuzz about four inches long.
Ricky and I knelt beside her. The thing twitched, proving it was alive, but it looked more like something you would sweep out from under the bed than a living creature. When it shifted I finally spotted a tiny beak. This little thing would eventually take to the skies as a powerful hunter?
“Born this morning,” Nancy said proudly. “We’ll keep it in here for three days, to make sure its insides are working properly, and then take it back to its mother. It’s time for a feeding. They get fed five times a day.” She rummaged in a mini fridge and came out with a dish of chopped meat. She scooped up the falcon baby in one hand, holding it in a loose fist so the little head poked up. She took metal forceps in her other hand, plucked a tiny piece of meat, and held it over the chick.
“What does it eat?” Ricky asked.
“Quail meat. You have to keep it sterile because they don’t have an immune system yet.” She leaned closer and made a repetitive keening sound.
The little falcon gave a faint, high screech and opened its miniature beak. Nancy dropped in the meat. “Falcons use sound to attract the baby to food, so I do the same. Hawks use motion, so you wave the meat over its head.”
“Can I take pictures?” Ricky asked.
“Of course!”
He started taking photos with his phone. I wouldn’t have called the little thing cute, exactly, but it was certainly fascinating, especially when you knew how it would grow up.
I caught motion out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to see Kyle. My heart bumped, and a quick flush warmed my body. I rose and crossed behind Nancy and Ricky to him. “Hi,” I whispered.
“Hi.” He glanced at Nancy and Ricky and then motioned down the hall. Halfway down, he pulled me into a room and closed the door behind us. I barely had time to recognize the room as a bedroom before he backed me against the wall. “Hi,” he said again, his voice rougher. His arms enclosed me and we kissed.
I leaned against the wall as my legs went weak. His hand slid around the back of my head as he deepened the kiss.
Some time later he leaned his forehead against mine with a sigh. “I need you. I didn’t realize how much I need—”
He broke off and stepped away. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair.”
“What—what isn’t?”
He sank into a chair. “Putting that burden on you. Making you responsible for my happiness. You were good enough to accept me as I am, to give me a chance, and I want more. I’m demanding too much, too soon.” He gave a long sigh. “I know I have to find happiness and peace inside myself. I want you in my life, but I don’t expect you to make everything better. I’ll take what you’re ready to give, and I won’t ask for more.”
I watched him as he cradled his arm against his stomach, covering his stump with his other hand. His impairment obviously bothered him more than he sometimes let on.
Something shifted in my heart. He was right when he said he wasn’t a hero. He was a man, and that was better.
If he thought I pitied him, that would make matters worse. But I couldn’t let him back away from the fragile bond we had out of some mistaken sense that he was making things easier on me.
I took a step closer. “You said I needed to practice saying no. How can I if you won’t ask for anything?” He looked up and I held his gaze. “I’d
rather you ask, or tell me what you want, than make me guess. I’m no good at guessing.” I took another step.
I read longing in his face, but the hesitation lingered, too, and his voice came out low and raw. “You make me want to be the best man I can be.”
I eased myself down onto his lap. “I’m glad. But I don’t want to wait until you get there. I’d rather help you along the way.” I pressed a kiss to his temple and felt him relax. But I couldn’t stop yet.
“You once told me not to make you a hero. Don’t make me a saint. I’m as flawed and messed up as you are. Maybe more. I’m trying to figure out how to be an adult, how to handle my mother, how to help my brother. When to do things on my own and when to ask for help. Who to trust. I don’t have the answers, just a lot of questions. But maybe we can figure things out together?”
“Yes.” He put his arms around me and rested his head against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m in some pain today. It makes me cranky and discouraged. It makes me doubt myself and the people around me.”
He nestled me close with a sigh. “But being with you makes me feel like I’m home.” He gave a short laugh. “Maybe I should clarify that, since you’ve met my parents. It’s the feeling I had when I got back to American soil. When I flew into Albuquerque and saw the mountains and desert spread out below before we landed. When I got back to town and knew this is where I belong, after trying so hard to get away. It’s how I feel here, with Gran and Daniel.”
I rubbed my hand over his chest and shoulder, needing to touch. “I’m flattered. But….”
He shifted so we could see each other better. “What?”
I glanced away and then met his eyes. “You do realize that may be why you like me. The girl next door, so to speak. A memory of home.” I stopped myself from adding, “nothing more” and prayed it wasn’t true. I forced myself to hold his gaze. I could feel my heart beat, but I couldn’t breathe.
