by Aimée Thurlo
Daniel tossed Rick a set of keys. “Check in when you can. As soon as I get the family squared away, I’m going to dig into the backgrounds of each of the players, including Kim and her uncle. I have the contacts and clearance to get into databases the PD can’t access without a truckload of paperwork.”
Rick walked out and found the black SUV. It had a lot of extras and must have cost his brother’s company a lot of money, but he was glad to have it. Something was telling him the case would be getting even messier soon.
As he drove down Hartley’s Main Street, one thought continued to nag at him. He had to know if he’d somehow been responsible—if his arrival in Hartley had set off the attack. Maybe his instincts were still on overdrive, but he’d learned not to ignore them. They’d kept him alive.
* * *
KIM WAS CLEANING the glass-topped display case when she heard the bell over the door jingle. Glancing up, she saw Rick stride in and nod to Fred, the security guard, who was standing nearby.
She smiled. Rick had that elusive “it” quality that commanded attention without even trying. He’d been her secret crush back in high school. Rick had been the larger-than-life high school quarterback, and she’d been the nerdy freshman buried in homework. Back then, between her thick glasses and her braces, she’d barely got a glance from the popular guys. Of course, it also could have been because her father was a cop.
The boy she’d watched from a distance was gone now, and in his place stood a sexy, earthy, dangerous-looking man. The scar made him look tough, seasoned by a hard life and infinitely masculine.
As he walked around the counter in her direction, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He moved without wasted motion, sure of himself, aware of his surroundings.
When he saw her he smiled and for a moment his face gentled, but the emotion was gone in a flash.
“Good morning, Rick. What can I do for you?” she asked, going up to him.
“I know the police have already interviewed you, Kim, but I’d like to discuss last night again. When do you take your next break?” he asked in a voice so low only she could hear.
She glanced at the clock. Angelina wasn’t in yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to take her fifteen minutes a little early, particularly since they had no customers at the moment.
“Now would be fine.”
She went to the coffeepot in the corner and offered him a cup. When he shook his head, she poured herself one. “I’ve been thinking of nothing else but the explosion. I barely slept last night, but I still haven’t been able to remember anything that might help the police.”
“Then shift your focus. Don’t think about the explosion. Concentrate on what happened earlier that evening.”
“Okay.” As she looked into his eyes she saw something there that made her hold her breath. The angry scar across his face spoke of life-and-death struggles, but his steady gaze shone with strength, courage and determination.
“Your brother Preston asked the hospital staff for permission to speak to Uncle Frank last night, but the doctors refused. They had to sedate him. He was so scared, waking up in the emergency room.”
“Did you get to talk to him at all?”
“For a bit. Uncle Frank told me he caught a glimpse of a big man wearing overalls, a blue ball cap and mirrored sunglasses right before he was hit on the back of the head. I should have asked him more, but all I could think of was how lucky we were. We’d all nearly died.” She stopped and looked up at him. “Does that make me sound like a coward?”
“It makes you sound human. When it counted, you stepped up. Your first thought was to find your uncle, then you did everything you could to get him out of danger. You worked to save a life, and did a lot more than was expected of you. In my book, that’s the definition of a hero.”
She shook her head and gave him a quick half smile. “Thanks, but no. There were no heroes there. We were all just people doing what we had to do.”
“It was a crazy time,” he said quietly.
“The person who did this took a huge risk. If my uncle hadn’t had the Cowboys game going full blast, he probably would have heard the guy sneak up behind him.”
Hearing the jingle at the front door, they both glanced in that direction and saw the security guard hold the door open for Angelina. “That’s my boss,” she said quietly. “She’s got a bad temper, so I better get back to work. We can meet later for lunch at the Desert Rose Café and talk some more if you want.”
Rick looked at Angelina and suddenly remembered meeting her before. Smiling, he went up to her. “Angelina Tso! I’m not sure if you remember me,” he said. “You got stuck in Copper Canyon after a hard rain several years ago after working with my father, and I towed you out to the highway.”
“I’m Angelina Curley now,” she said curtly.
“Weren’t you studying with Hosteen Silver to become a medicine woman?” Rick asked, using the Navajo equivalent of Mister that most of their tribe preferred. “Did you find another mentor after my foster father’s death?”
Her expression darkened, and Kim, who’d been watching the exchange, recognized the signs instantly.
“Kim, I’m paying you to work, so find something to do!” Angelina snapped. “And you,” she added, looking at Rick. “I’m warning you right now to stay out of my store. Neither you nor your family is welcome here. Hosteen Silver cheated me. He took my money and then wouldn’t let me come back for more instruction. He robbed me of my chance to become a Navajo healer, then tried to ruin my reputation.”
“There’s got to be more to the story. Integrity was more than a word to Hosteen Silver,” he said, biting back his anger. “Why don’t we talk about this in private?”
“I’m not saying another word to you. Fred, show Mr. Cloud out,” Angelina said, looking at the security guard.
“I know my foster father, and what you’re telling me isn’t something he’d do. Let’s talk and figure things out,” Rick insisted, taking a step closer to her and gesturing to the empty office behind them. “We can talk in private in there.”
“Keep your hands off me,” Angelina shouted at him.
“He didn’t—” Kim started, but in an instant everything went crazy.
As Fred rushed forward, squaring off in front of Rick, fists clenched, Kim squeezed in between them, facing the security guard.
“Fred, he didn’t touch her. Just calm down,” Kim urged, anxious to avoid a stupid confrontation.
“Do something, you fool,” Angelina yelled at Fred.
“Out of my way, Kim,” the security guard ordered.
“No. Just chill out, Fred, okay?”
“Throw him out, damn you!” Angelina screamed.
The guard grabbed Kim by the shoulders and pushed her aside. Kim stumbled and slammed her ribs against the edge of the counter. Groaning, she reached out with both hands and, getting a grip on the display case, managed not to fall.
Rick instantly grabbed the man by the belt and collar and hurled him facedown across the tiled floor.
Fred careened into a freestanding metal display filled with souvenirs and cheap Mexican pottery. The display rocked, sending a cascade of key chains, postcards and clay pots tumbling to the floor.
Angelina reached for the low shelf behind the front counter, brought out a revolver and pointed it directly at Rick. She was breathing hard, shaking and clearly out of control.
“No!” Kim lunged toward her boss, but Rick beat her to it.
In a blur he yanked the weapon from Angelina’s hand and looked over at the guard, who’d grabbed the display and managed to keep it from tipping over.
“Everyone, calm down!” he ordered, opening the cylinder and dumping the bullets onto the floor before placing the revolver on the counter.
Kim froze in place. Even without a weapon, he still comm
anded the room. “I’m leaving now,” he said, holding out his hand, palm up, as a signal for Fred to stay put. “See you at lunch, Miss Nelson?” he asked softly. Assessing the situation with a steely gaze, he never turned his back until he was out of the shop.
As the door swung shut, Angelina, still shaking, turned to Fred, who was down on one knee picking up the scattered merchandise. “You’re my brother’s son so I gave you a chance, but you stink as a security guard. Turn in your gear and get out. You’re fired.” Then she turned to Kim. “And you—”
“Angelina, I didn’t do anything wrong this morning, and you know it.” She wasn’t going to take any abuse from the woman, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. If she could only manage to calm her down....
“He came to see you.”
“All he wanted to do was follow up on last night,” Kim said, struggling to keep her voice low and controlled. “That explosion at the Brickhouse could have killed fifteen people. Most of us got lucky, but my uncle is in the hospital with a fractured skull. You must have seen the burned-out building and street barricades. We were lucky to get out alive.”
“You were hosting a dinner for the sons of Hosteen Silver. What did you expect? That bunch brings nothing but bad luck. Look what just happened here,” Angelina said, then shook her head. “Forget it. Get out. You’re fired.”
“I doubt Mr. Cloud will ever be coming back, so why let me go?” she insisted. If she ended up jobless, how would she be able to stay in school?
“I’m not interested in an employee who’s friends with my enemies. I know you’re having lunch with him,” she snapped. “I’ll mail your last paycheck. Now get out.”
Kim picked up her purse, jacket and lunch bag and walked out while Angelina searched for the bullets still scattered on the floor.
* * *
“I’M GLAD YOU called to tell me what happened, Rick,” Preston said, looking around the interior of the Desert Rose Café, studying the smattering of diners there.
“I had to. That woman lost it completely. When she screamed at me to take my hands off her, her guard moved in, but I never touched Angelina Curley. Kim can verify what happened,” Rick said, reaching for his spicy breakfast burrito.
“Angelina’s well known around town and has friends in high places despite her erratic behavior. Stay away from her. It’s unlikely that she’s involved in what happened at the Brickhouse, so tread carefully. You don’t want to turn her into an enemy.”
“We already are enemies.” His gaze snapped to the shop across the street as an old saying played in his mind. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” One way or another, he was going to find out what had happened between Angelina and Hosteen Silver.
Chapter Three
Though it was only ten-thirty and way too early for lunch, with nowhere else to go at the moment, Kim decided to stop by the Desert Rose Café for a cup of tea. As she walked in, she was surprised to see Preston and Rick sitting at a table near the window.
Kim approached them slowly, wondering if she was making a mistake. Maybe Rick was bad luck. Look at everything that had happened so far, and he’d only been in town since yesterday afternoon.
She discarded the thought immediately. There was no such thing as luck. She remembered the quote by Louis Pasteur her father had hung in his office at home. “Chance favors the prepared mind.” People made their own luck.
Rick and Preston stood as she came over, and Rick gestured to the chair beside him. “What brings you by so early, Kim? If you’re hungry, I can recommend the breakfast burrito. It’s terrific. The coffee...not so much.”
She smiled. “I know. I usually order tea.”
The waitress came over and smiled. “Hey, Kim. What’ll you have?”
“How about a job, Sally? Only kidding. I just got fired,” she said, “so a cup of honey tea will do.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” the young waitress answered.
“So am I,” Rick added. “Order what you want and consider it part of my apology. I owe you that, at least.”
Kim shook her head. “Tea will be enough.” As the waitress left, she touched Rick’s arm briefly. “I appreciate the offer, but all you really did was speed up the inevitable. I’ve never liked the way Angelina treated her employees and, frankly, I only stuck around because the work fit my schedule.”
Preston spoke up. “If you need some financial help—”
She shook her head and held up a hand, interrupting him. “I’ve got skills and experience working retail, so I’ll find a new job soon. However, if you hear of a part-time position with flexible hours, let me know.”
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Preston said, removing a few dollars from his wallet and placing them on the table. “Kim, keep thinking hard about last night. Sometimes the answers don’t come all at once.”
“I will.”
As the waitress brought over her cup of tea, Kim eyed the piece of Rick’s burrito that remained but said nothing. Pride always stopped her from asking for favors or help.
“We changed our minds. How about a breakfast burrito for the lady, too,” he said.
“Be back in a jiff,” the waitress said.
Kim smiled at Rick. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. The aromas in here always make me hungry.”
“No problem. Now I feel a little less guilty.”
A lengthy silence ensued until Sally returned with her food and, wanting to know more about Rick, Kim decided to start the conversation. “So tell me, Rick. Are you really home for good?” she asked, taking a bite of burrito.
“Yes.”
“Are you glad to be back among family or do you miss your old job?”
“Both.”
He obviously wasn’t much for small talk. She took several more bites, enjoying the flavorful explosion of green chili. Remembering how procedural books said that people often opened up just to fill the lapse in conversation, she let the silence stretch.
It didn’t work. Rick had probably read the same book years ago.
“I appreciate that you bought me something to eat and are letting me enjoy the burrito in peace, but I get the feeling there’s something on your mind,” she said, taking the last bite. “So how can I help you?”
“I know Angelina Curley had dealings with my foster father, then one day she stopped coming around,” he said. “I don’t believe her accusations at all. Any idea what really happened between them?”
“I’ve heard pieces of the story here and there, but because they originated from Angelina I’m not sure how accurate they are,” she warned.
“Go on.”
“Hosteen Silver accepted cash and jewelry in payment for her instruction and apprenticeship, but then, according to Angelina, he made sexual advances. When she rejected him, he got angry and refused to continue her training.”
“My foster father would never have done anything like that. The woman’s lying.”
“Uncle Frank knew your foster father. I met him once at the Brickhouse, too. He didn’t strike me as that type of person, either,” she admitted. “But in my experience, Angelina isn’t above lying if it suits her. I’ve seen how she twists things around when she’s dealing with customers and vendors. She keeps things legal, but she’s completely unethical,” Kim said. “Maybe she was the one who made a pass and got shot down. She doesn’t take rejection well, I can tell you that. Or maybe she just didn’t have what it takes to be a medicine woman and needed someone to blame. Considering Angelina doesn’t remember details, I’m surprised she’s as successful in business as she is. She’ll often ask us the same question two or three times.”
“That might explain her failure as my father’s apprentice. The Sings have to be memorized perfectly and some last for days,” Rick answered. “One mistake and the gods won’t a
nswer, or they might make things worse for a person out of anger. Getting it right shows respect.”
“It took days for her to remember the combination of the new safe.” She paused for a moment. “Angelina’s not stupid, far from it, but she’s easily distracted.”
“My foster father could be very exacting. If Angelina wasn’t measuring up, he would have told her that in no uncertain terms.”
“Angelina would have blamed him, not herself,” she answered.
“I was surprised to see her pull a gun this morning. Was that all a bluff, or is she capable of violence?” he asked.
“I don’t think she would have fired at you. She’s a bully and wanted you afraid. If you’d started pleading with her to set it down, that would have made her feel in control, and you would have made her day.”
“I get it.”
“For what it’s worth, that’s my amateur attempt at profiling. Although I’ve worked at Silver Heritage for the past ten months, she and I aren’t friends, or even friendly. I don’t even recall having a conversation with her that wasn’t business-related.”
“Fair enough,” Rick said.
Kim watched him for a moment. He knew a lot about her, but she’d yet to learn much about him. Mystery clung to Rick like dust from a hot summer’s whirlwind.
“I think my brother said something about Angelina owning another business as well as Silver Heritage,” he said.
“That’s true. She has a high-end Southwest design jewelry business across from the regional hospital. If you want, we can go over there after I finish class. The manager’s a friend of mine. Although Angelina goes over there every day just after lunch, she usually comes back to the downtown shop after an hour or so. If you let me come along, I can watch out for her.”
She checked her watch. “Right now I’ve got to walk over to campus. I’ve got class at noon.”
“Mind if I tag along? It’s a nice day to be outside.”
“Glad for the company.”
After they left the café, he fell into step beside her. It was a beautiful October day and the air was brisk but not cold. “So tell me, what makes you so determined to become a cop?”
