Power of the Raven

by Aimée Thurlo

  “You should have thought of all that before you showed up for work falling down drunk.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” He brought out his wallet and showed Gene one half of a hundred-dollar bill. “The guy told me I’d get the other half when I delivered the woman. Without her I’ve got nothing.”

  “That’s getting pretty desperate. What were you supposed to do with her?” Gene pressed.

  “Deliver her, alive and well. That’s it. He insisted that the deal was off if I hurt her.”

  “Who told you? You must have met the man if he gave you half the C-note.”

  “I was at the Crazy Horse Tavern over in Cortez. The bouncer threw me out on my butt when I came up five bucks short on my tab. That’s when this dude came up to me.”

  “Who? And I won’t repeat the question.”

  “Never met the guy before. Just a regular white guy—about five-ten, not thin, not fat, clean shaven. Had on a dark windbreaker and a ball cap.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much,” Gene growled.

  “I’m not keeping anything from you. It was dark outside, I was wasted and that’s all I can remember.” He added, “He was a white-collar city dude, too, not a working man.”

  “How could you tell?”

  “He gave me a hand up off the ground and his palm was soft, like a baby’s.”

  “Okay, so where were you supposed to meet this accountant type after you had Lori?”

  “I was told to call him by a certain time and he’d give me the details. He also told me not to be late calling, or he’d be long gone. He said he’d assume I fouled things up and skedaddle.”

  “What time did he give you?” Gene showed Duane his watch.

  “Fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “I picked up a nail and had to change a flat, then I had to wait till you two came outside. My bet is that he’s in the next county by now. That guy was as jumpy as a toad in a hot skillet.”

  Gene started to press Hays for more information, but heard the wail of a police siren.

  A second later Lori ran back into the barn. “There was an officer in the area, so the deputy’s heading straight here. We’ll need to let him in. Shall I go?”

  Gene fished a key out of his pocket and handed it to her, then gestured for her to come closer. “The lock inside needs the code word bear,” he whispered in her ear.

  She smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  LORI SAT IN GENE’S LIVING room, waiting for the police to finish questioning him. Sheriff’s deputies had already placed Duane Hays in the backseat of a patrol car and spoken to her.

  The deputy who’d questioned Gene eventually came back into the room, and Gene followed seconds later. “Ms. Baker, we’re taking the suspect to the station now. Our detectives will continue to question him there. If Hays knows who hired him, he’ll probably make a plea deal and give us a name,” the deputy said. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “What about the phone number he was supposed to call?” Gene asked.

  “We’ll be checking that out, too, but it was probably a burn phone, a cheap, prepaid throwaway.”

  After all the deputies left, Lori sat on the couch with Gene. “So much for a few days in paradise.”

  He gave her surprised look. “Do you really see Two Springs that way?”

  She smiled, sensing how much the possibility pleased him. “I can’t imagine a better life than owning a place like this one. Sure, there’s hard work, but it’s the kind that satisfies you. Of course, I’d have to save up for decades before I could afford to buy a ranch even half this size.”

  “I hear you. I worked as a long-haul trucker for years just to get the down payment together. In those days I practically lived behind the wheel and slept at truck stops, but knowing what my goal was made it bearable.”

  “I’m hoping to take the next step up by restoring my house, then selling it at a profit. If the market ever picks up, that is.”

  “Take it one step at a time,” he said, then stood. “We better get going. We can’t stay here anymore. Whoever hired Hays obviously knows about my ranch. We’ll have to find a place where backup’s close by and where we can sleep without having one eye open.”

  “That would be great, but we’ve exhausted all the possibilities.”

  “No, not yet, we haven’t. When I’m in a bind I can always count on my brothers to come through for me. I trust them and you can, too.”

  “Trust…that’s never come easily to me. Does it to you?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

  “No, I’ve seen too much of life.”

  “So you do understand why I hold back.”

  He paused, then nodded slowly. “You want to know that I won’t break your heart somewhere along the way,” he said. “But although I would do everything in my power not to hurt you, I can’t promise that won’t happen.”

  “I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “If only we could just close our eyes, wish really hard and make all our dreams come true.”

  “Sometimes what we need to be happy is right in front of us. We just have to find the courage to claim it.”

  She felt herself drowning in that steady gaze. Before she could reach out to him, he stood and walked to the window.

  “Get your things,” he said. “We have to get moving before this guy realizes that his plan fell through and tries something else.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Car trips always made her sleepy and it was no different now in Gene’s smooth-riding pickup. Somehow she’d drifted off and didn’t wake up until they reached the outskirts of Hartley.

  She opened her eyes with effort and looked around, trying to reorient herself. “Oh, jeez, I didn’t mean to drift off again while you were driving. You should have woken me up!”

  “You were exhausted, and I figured that since tomorrow’s Sunday I’ll catch some sleep once we get to Paul’s.”

  “I never heard you call him.”

  “That’s because I haven’t—not yet anyway.”

  “It’s late. Maybe he’s asleep.”

  He shook his head. “Doubtful. Paul doesn’t sleep much these days. After being involved in a shoot-out that left him wounded and his partner dead, Paul’s changed, both inside and out. He’s struggling with a lot of unresolved issues.” He glanced at her and shook his head, preempting any questions. “I can’t say more. One Navajo shouldn’t speak for another.”

  They soon arrived at the coffee shop and Gene parked in the back.

  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and got his brother on the second ring. Gene explained briefly that they needed a place to stay and, a moment later, placed the cell phone back into his pocket. “Okay, let’s go.”

  They went upstairs and, by the time they reached the top floor, Paul opened the door.

  Moments later they were inside Paul’s small one-bedroom apartment. From what Lori could see, the living room furniture was comprised of a large wooden desk with several computers and monitors hung on the wall behind it. Adjacent to it, on a second desk, stood a printer and a small flat-screen TV set broadcasting the local news. A comfortable-looking sofa and chairs were wedged in between both desks.

  “There’s been nothing new on your case, but the good part is that the police department’s work slowdown will be ending soon. The two groups are meeting again, and word is there’s finally progress on the negotiations.”

  She took the leather chair Paul offered her. Gene straddled one of the two wooden ones around the second table, his arms resting on the back.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Gene said, updating Paul on the events with Duane Hays and his secretive employer.

  Paul remained in front of one of the computers, listening carefully. “Your suspect clearly has access to some extremely useful databases if he can find you that easily. He might be a Realtor.” He looked at Lori. “Who did you deal with when you bought your house?”

  “It was a direct sale by the owner. The house belonged to an elderly woman who held my current job at
the DMV. I replaced her after she had a stroke,” Lori said. “I’d heard that she wanted to sell the house, so I went to take a look at it. The place was falling apart, but the price was incredible, so I bought it immediately.”

  “You still had to deal with the loan and title people. The county clerk’s office, too, I would imagine,” Paul said. “The suspect could work at those locations, or any other business that has access to the same kinds of records. I think you need to work harder to put somebody else besides Harrington on that list of suspects.”

  “I’ll keep trying, but in the meantime, isn’t there a way we could stake out Bud’s house? We know he’s been there.”

  Paul shook his head. “The problem is that I’m working on a case, and Dan’s doing a training op right now. You two can’t do it because it’ll put you in the line of fire. In other words, by trying to catch him, he may catch you—if he’s the guy who’s been causing all your problems.”

  “I can’t just keep running. Sooner or later, he’s going to catch up to me.”

  Paul looked at Gene. “She’s got a point, but you’ve got a say in this, too.”

  “Lori, I think you’re after the wrong man. I know that you want to believe it’s Harrington. Better the devil you know than the one you don’t. I understand all that, but don’t let that close your eyes to other important facts. The man after you is clearly interested in something he thinks you have,” Gene said. “Why else break into your house or try to steal your purse? That doesn’t fit Harrington.”

  Paul leaned back and stared at an indeterminate spot across the room. “From what I’ve been able to uncover, Harrington’s a small-time jewelry maker who specializes in modern silver jewelry, not Native American look-alikes. He works from home and sells mostly direct and wholesale. He also has a regular booth at the Second Street flea market. He’s there every weekend.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she said, looking at Gene. “Why don’t we go to the flea market? He’s not likely to give us a problem in the middle of a crowded place.”

  Gene considered it, then nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “That means you two are going to need some sleep,” Paul said. “I’ve got to wait up for an important email, so I’ll be crashing on the couch. Why don’t you two share my bed?” he said, then glanced at Lori. “Or feel free to tell Gene to grab a pillow and sleep on the floor.”

  She laughed. “We’ll share and leave the door open, so feel free to come in whenever you want,” she told Paul.

  “The bedroom’s down the hall. You can’t miss it.”

  As she walked off, Paul pulled Gene back. “If I open the front door, the bedroom door will close on its own. You want me to give you thirty minutes or so, then make sure I create a draft?”

  Gene laughed. “Not my style, bro, but thanks for the thought.”

  LORI WANTED TO SLEEP BUT soon realized that was impossible. She could feel the warmth of Gene’s body beside hers on the bed, and images that could have set fire to the pages of the steamiest romance novel kept popping into her head.

  After several minutes she heard Gene hiss out a breath. “This isn’t going to work. I can’t stop thinking about…you.”

  “Maybe we could just cuddle,” she said.

  He sat up and shook his head. “It wouldn’t stop there.”

  “Yes, it would. We wouldn’t have a choice. Your brother’s less than twenty feet away.”

  “I’d nail the door shut and tell him to get earphones,” he growled and stood.

  As her gaze dropped, her mouth went dry. His jeans were bulging and he looked…well, huge. She sighed.

  He gave a grin that was nothing less than pure masculine pride. “I’m going out there to join Paul.”

  “You haven’t had any sleep, but I have. Take the bed. I’ll keep your brother company.”

  He shook his head. “Thanks, but no. He and I need to talk. Among other things, I’d like to tell him about you and Grit.”

  She smiled. “You just want to bug him.”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Hey, a man’s got to have a little fun.”

  GENE CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND him and went out to the living area. Paul was sitting atop the small sofa reading a software manual.

  “For a slow-moving guy, that sure didn’t take you long, did it?” Paul said with a sideways grin.

  “We didn’t—” He glowered at his brother, then glanced around. “You used to go camping. Don’t you have a sleeping bag?”

  “Yeah, but the zipper sticks.”

  “That’s the story of your life,” Gene said and ducked as Paul threw some balled-up socks at him.

  “I have a foam pad you can use if you’re feeling dainty,” Paul said.

  Gene chuckled. “I’m dainty, but you’re the one keeping the couch?”

  “Don’t blame me if she ran your sorry butt out. That would have never happened to me. I think you’ve been spending too much time sweet-talking horses. When was the last time you had a woman?”

  “I don’t keep score,” he snapped. “Now where’s the foam pad?”

  “Closet.”

  As Gene unrolled the thin pad of resilient bedding, he glanced up at Paul. “You should have seen Lori with Grit. She walked right up, attached his halter without even a flinch, then, with only a rope through the halter ring, rode him bareback around the corral. No problem, no fuss, no biting threats, no flattened ears—nothing.”

  “That horse has good taste in women.” Paul retrieved the email he’d been waiting for, then shut down the computer.

  “Speaking of women, have you thought any more about the story Hosteen Silver left for us in his safe-deposit box, the one about Changing-Bear-Maiden?” Gene asked him. “There’s a message there somewhere.”

  “I agree, but I haven’t got any answers. The truth is I’ve had a problem remembering the original story well enough to look for discrepancies in the account he left behind for us.”

  “I can help you there,” Gene said. “Here’s a summary.” He lapsed into a momentary silence, putting his thoughts together, then continued. “Changing-Bear-Woman was first a beautiful maiden who lived with her brothers. She turned down a lot of suitors, but then Coyote came courting. She knew he had a reputation as a trickster, so she decided to discourage him by offering a series of impossible challenges. If he overcame all of those, she promised she’d marry him.”

  “I remember now,” Paul interjected. “Somehow, Coyote completed all those tasks and she was forced to marry him. But not long after that she was corrupted by her husband. She turned evil and learned how to change into a bear. From that point on, she ceased to be a mortal woman. By becoming Changing-Bear-Woman, her old self was completely destroyed.”

  “Exactly. And when Coyote became bored with married life, he dumped her. That really set her off. She went looking for him and killed everyone who got in her way, including her former family, all except her youngest brother, who hid from her,” Gene said.

  “The brother was forced to restore the balance by destroying what she’d become. However, he promised her that she’d live on in other forms and serve the Diné. A part of her body became the first piñon nut, another yucca fruit and so on,” Gene said.

  “Thanks for refreshing my memory. I can reread the original to fill in the details. What I do remember is how Hosteen Silver wanted us to learn from this story that good can be corrupted by evil, but conversely evil can be defeated with a lot of persistence and sacrifice,” Paul said.

  They both remained silent for a while. Finally Paul spoke. “Hosteen Silver liked challenging us. That’s why he left us that story and, me, that damned horse.”

  Gene lay down and stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I think so, too, but I also think Hosteen Silver left Grit to you for a specific reason. It was more than just a way to test you.”

  “All I have to do is figure out what lesson he wanted me to learn.”

  “Hope you don’t get trampled first.”

  “
Good night, bro,” Paul mumbled.

  “Don’t you mean shut up?”

  Paul didn’t reply. After a while, Gene turned his head and looked toward the bedroom door. Convinced he could hear Lori breathing, he slowly drifted off.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lori stirred awake slowly, then glanced at the clock beside her on the nightstand. As she saw the time, she drew in a sharp breath and jumped out of bed. It was ten in the morning!

  Lori cleaned up quickly, then went into the living area and joined the men.

  Gene gave her a wide smile as she came in. “About time you woke up.”

  “Sorry! I never thought I’d oversleep like that or I’d have asked you to wake me up,” she said. “So how about letting me make it up to you guys? I’ll buy breakfast downstairs—providing it doesn’t go over twenty bucks and they serve breakfast.”

  Paul laughed. “Does she always set limits like that?”

  “Yeah, ’fraid so,” Gene said. Looking back at Lori, he chuckled. “I’ll go down and pick up something for us, then after breakfast we’ll get going.”

  Paul glanced over at them. “Are you two still planning to make a run to the flea market?”

  “Yeah,” Gene said. “Maybe we can catch up to Harrington. I think it’s about time he and I had a little talk.”

  “Put your feelings aside,” Paul said. “Without a clear head, your enemy will have the advantage.”

  “I hear you,” Gene said, standing. “Burritos, everyone?” Seeing them nod, he headed to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Coffee, too?” she asked as he reached for the handle.

  “No need,” Paul said. “I was just about to make a full pot.”

  After Gene left, Paul quickly started the coffee brewing, then sat back down in front of his computer keyboard.

  “You’re worried about Gene and Bud meeting up at the flea market, aren’t you? But why? Gene isn’t the kind of man who acts out of anger,” she said. “Even under fire, he thinks, then acts.”