Dark Side of Noon (Wind Dancer Book 2)

by Tierney James

  Perez smirked at him then focused on Jacque. “I suspected as much. Is that why you always take muscle with you?” She cocked her head toward Wind Dancer.

  “No. Wind Dancer goes along for comic relief,” came a familiar sound in the office. Agent Farrentino stood at the window, coffee cup in hand, grinning at the banter. He stepped forward and extended his hand to Perez who couldn’t stop smiling all of a sudden.

  Those blue eyes and olive skin must be physical traits women are into these days, Jacque surmised. The giddy laugh she emitted at the agent irritated him just a little.

  “Farrentino. Chief Perez,” he introduced with a wave of his hand.

  “It is Special Agent Farrentino, Jacque,” Wind Dancer corrected and extended his hand. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”

  Jacque felt his frown deepen. Even Wind Dancer appeared smitten. There was no denying, the man was a charmer. He’d give him that. Could be a qualification to join the FBI.

  “Wind Dancer, I brought you those chocolate-covered macadamia nuts you like.” He reached inside his coat pocket for a small bag and handed them over.

  “Thank you. I will save them to share with Cleo when we find her.”

  Agent Farrentino appeared bewildered. “Find her?”

  The three of them caught him up to speed, at times all talking at once.

  By the end, his hands were on his hips and his forehead creased. “I got a message from Cleo last night she wasn’t going to wait on me to pick her up. Said she caught a ride. Sorry I’m just now getting here. There was a terrible accident, and I got trapped.”

  “So, you talked to her?” Perez asked.

  “No. Message on my phone. Didn’t find it until later. Since it was about 3 a.m. by that time, I parked at a rest stop and got a few hours’ sleep. Came the rest of the way when an eighteen-wheeler thought it would be amusing to pull in front of my car and use that blasted airhorn. Needless to say, I had to change clothes.” Jacque grinned. “Stopped at the hospital to see if that girl had been found, and one of the paramedics informed me you guys had been in an accident. Nothing about Cleo. He directed me here.”

  A young officer appeared and gave his boss more information. “Had to ticket a few guys who took it upon themselves to search for Dr. Sommers when they heard about George getting killed. Then a tractor trailer overturned between Kewa Corner and here. Traffic is a mess both ways. Everybody in a hurry for the eclipse. Not watching what they’re doing. Search and rescue are still out there.”

  Jacque checked his watch. “She’s been missing a long time, Chief. We need to find her.” He turned to Farrentino. “You thought this sounded like other missing people you’ve been studying?”

  “Yes. One minute, they’re there, and next, they’re gone.”

  Perez took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Same here. Has happened several times over the last ten years or so.”

  “But you have three that survived. Very unusual. Can we talk to them?” Farrentino asked in his no-nonsense FBI tone.

  “Not Tonya. She’s in Santa Fe. Let’s head over to the hospital.”

  Farrentino retrieved his phone from the inside pocket of his suit coat. “I’ll get an agent from Albuquerque up there. I sent a guy there two days ago to check a few records. He can head up there to see her.”

  “Let’s go.” Perez moved to the door. “Let’s go out to where we last saw Dr. Sommers.” They stopped back by the conference room to see Mansi shoving a cheese Danish in his mouth. “If you know anything, Mansi, now is the time to tell me. I can’t promise I can protect Alo without your help.”

  “I did see him last night like Ms. Sommers said. He heard about Abby. He just wanted to find her. I told him he should go home. He wouldn’t listen. I swear, Chief Perez. Now, can I go take care of my inn?”

  “Barb?” Perez stopped the front-desk lady who waddled by. “Keep Mansi here until I get back. Agent Farrentino may want to talk to him.” She stuck her head in the conference room. “Thanks, Mansi. I’ll do my best to find and protect him. Okay?”

  He nodded and sat down with his cold cup of coffee in hand.

  The parents of the little boy were checking out as they arrived. Liam spotted Wind Dancer and ran as fast as his short chubby legs would carry him. The Pawnee gathered him up in his arms.

  The child slipped an arm around his new friend’s neck and got comfortable while his parents joined them. They were happy to follow them into an unoccupied waiting room to have a chat.

  Liam hadn’t been injured but was given fluids and a tetanus shot since he had a few scratches on his hands and face. From what they could find out, he’d fallen in brush when he tried to get away from his captor.

  “Did he say who or give a description?” Jacque realized in all the chaos they’d not been given a chance to question the boy before he’d been taken to the hospital. “They kept him a little longer than usual.”

  “I left orders to keep him here in case the…” Perez’s gaze went to Liam to gauge how much to say in front of him. “In case his friend returned.”

  “He couldn’t remember, Chief Perez. We tried to get a little information, but he was so tired, we let him sleep. When he did wake up, he didn’t want to talk about it. All he said was ‘scary.’ A counselor dropped by yesterday, but, like us, didn’t get anywhere.”

  “Little one, can you tell us more about the one who took you?” Wind Dancer stroked the boy’s head. The child buried his face in Wind Dancer’s neck for a few seconds then whispered in his ear. When he finished, he buried his face in the Pawnee’s shoulder once more.

  Everyone waited and seemed to hold their breath as Wind Dancer tightened his embrace and spoke soothing words in his native tongue before addressing the group.

  “We must hurry. There is more than one Chaveyo out there. Cleo is in much danger.”

  Chapter 30

  The boney hand lifted Cleo by the good wrist, but the weight of her body made her shoulder feel like it would dislocate. The suspension caused her to involuntarily kick the air beneath her twisting body. She tried to use her broken wrist and hand to strengthen her hold. The weakness did little to remove the pressure from the other arm. With the upward motion, her body slammed into the rocky wall, now void of the slick adobe. The scratches opened enough to draw blood. By the time her head cleared the entrance hole, she could feel the slow trickles of blood moving down her arm.

  Once the cool morning air touched her face, a hope of escape magically strengthened her.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Once back at the scene where Cleo had vanished, Agent Farrentino and Jacque took a look around. Crime scene tape gave the area a haunting, if not helpless vibe. Many times, Jacque had examined these scenes, but now his friend was involved. Cleo was one special lady, and he didn’t want to lose her to a killer. The thought of such a thing happening blurred his reasoning power. His first inclination was to kill whoever did this.

  The feeling of rage surprised him, since he had always been able to step outside himself to solve a case. Wind Dancer and Cleo had changed all that. They were family. The realization he loved them almost overwhelmed him as he imagined Cleo being terrorized by a monster serial killer.

  Where was she? Was she hurt? Heaven forbid, was she dead? How would he handle the worst-case scenario? Not well, he imagined. Then there was Wind Dancer. If the love of his life could not be found alive, would he also leave, crossing to his time? To think of losing both of them brought a lump to his throat.

  He pivoted to observe his partner amid the question-and-answer session between Perez and Farrentino. Wind Dancer stood like a statue, staring into the woods, chin up, ear cocked. His fingers opened and closed. The Pawnee listened, but to what?

  All Jacque heard were the annoying morning chirps of birds and the wind rustling the tops of trees. This was another indication how much of a city boy he was. Give him the sound of blaring car horns, belligerent street workers, and the smell of garbage and exhaust fumes any old day. At
least he understood that kind of crazy.

  Wind Dancer turned his head to lock into Jacque’s psyche. How did he do that?

  “She is alive,” the Pawnee announced to his friend as Jacque approached. “She calls my name. I am going to go get her.”

  Jacque knew it would be pointless to argue. “How far away?”

  “Not sure. Her voice carries on the wind.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  Wind Dancer blinked and refocused on the woods. “She is in deep hole. I smell campfire. Not sure how far I can, what is the word?”

  “Detect?”

  “Yes. I am not sure how far my hearing and smell can detect. In the past, it has been several miles if I already know what to sense. In Chicago, very dirty, and I have to think and separate. Out here, it is clean. The smell and sound travel long way, I think. May bounce off rocks and trees.”

  There was a time when Jacque would have dropped down laughing his head off at such talk. Those days were long gone. Now he knew parallel universes, skinwalkers, Native Americans, and that communication between man and beast was possible. Whatever was out there taking innocent people had to be stopped. So the question now was sthat even possible? His own experience with a skinwalker had nearly ended his life in Chicago. Whatever creeped around in these woods had to be just as bad, if not worse.

  “Let me go with you,” Jacque stated in a low voice as he cocked his head toward Perez and Farrentino. “Cleo is my friend, too. It might take two of us.”

  “Your leg is injured, my friend,” he said, resting his large brown hand on Jacque’s shoulder. “You cannot keep up with me. We both know that when I am on the hunt, even when your leg is good, you struggle to follow. It is not because you are weak. It is because you have not crossed into this world or any world, to change your body. I was like you in my world.”

  “Maybe I should cross over into your world and show you what this feels like. I mean, having a friend with super strength,” he huffed out the words. He winced and removed the Pawnee’s hand. “You deserve a little payback.” Jacque watched his friend’s eyebrows lift, like they often did when he didn’t understand. “Payback means—”

  Wind Dancer patted him on the back of the head and smiled, which managed to make Jacque stretch his mouth into a frown. “I know what it means.” He tilted his head toward the other two. “Will you take care of them for me?”

  “I’ll try. Don’t you need supplies?”

  “No. The land will provide what I need.”

  Jacque slipped out the walkie-talkie from his backpack and handed it to the Pawnee who hid it inside his denim jacket. “Remember how to use this?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s already on the right channel so don’t mess with it.”

  “Roger that,” he said then jutted out his bottom lip.

  “And don’t use crazy words like ‘roger that’ when you don’t even know what they mean.” He nudged the Pawnee toward the woods. “Go. Bring Cleo home. I need her to keep me on the straight and narrow.” A bewildered frown creased Wind Dancer’s forehead at the reference. Jacque rolled his eyes and waved for him to go. “Ask Cleo when you find her. It will give you something to talk about.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “We don’t talk much after we’ve been apart.”

  Jacque pinched the top of his nose and shook his head in frustration. “That is way more information than I needed. Now, go.”

  Jacque knew by not alerting Perez and Farrentino that Wind Dancer had gone rogue, his chances of getting to first base with the pretty police chief had evaporated. Besides, the way she was listening so intently to the FBI agent and the tilt of her head, making her appear sultry, helped him decide the flirting would be the much-needed distraction his friend needed to put distance between them. The Pawnee was like a bloodhound at times, as long as people, normal people, didn’t get in his way.

  “Where’s Wind Dancer?” Farrentino asked, casting a suspicious gaze around Jacque as he approached.

  “Taking a leak. Told him to go before we left, but you know he never listens to me.”

  Farrentino continued to level a narrow gaze at him. The man was a different kind of bloodhound. He didn’t get to be the FBI darling who could request any job he wanted by being a pushover. You certainly couldn’t trip him up with a lame story about taking a leak. The surprising thing about this situation was Farrentino let it slide. While Perez read over her notes and continued to talk, both men locked gazes, causing Jacque to lift his chin in a signal to not ask too many questions.

  “Excuse me. I need to take this call.” Perez lifted her phone and walked out of earshot.

  “Where is he? Really,” Farrentino mumbled as his mouth took a definite downward turn.

  “Did you think he was going to wait for her permission? We’re burning daylight.”

  The corner of Farrentino’s mouth tilted up as he tried to suppress his cocky grin. “You’ve been out here less than a week, and you’re already talking like a cowboy on a cattle drive.” When Jacque didn’t respond, he removed his jacket and draped it over his arm, revealing a shoulder holster. “I’ve got boots in my bag and a few more things to hike. You look prepared.” He eyed Jacque. “I’ve called a helicopter in to scout ahead since we can’t smell, hear, or run like a damn superhero. I’m not about to go traipsing around in miles of terrain others have already searched.”

  “I thought the quirk in this series of disappearances was that the body shows up in the area already searched? Maybe they missed something.”

  “True. But I’m thinking there’s a place out there where this thing hides. It’s only a matter of time until we find it.”

  “Thing? What do you mean thing?” Jacque tried to control his voice so as not to show surprise or fear.

  “These incidents are happening all over the country. Even in Canada. Generally, in heavily wooded areas but not always. But it consistently involves a large park and hikers. They disappear and about half are never found. The other half are either found dead or…”

  “What?”

  “They’re so confused about the incident or traumatized, they can’t remember, or they report crazy things that would make a great Twilight Zone episode.” He moved toward the car and pulled out his phone and made a call to the helicopter to let them know they were headed out in a few minutes. He turned to Jacque to continue. “Then there are the survivors who are not particularly injured, like Liam.”

  “You mean kids?”

  “Yes and no. A few kids can’t tell you anything. They’re found almost naked but no injuries. Then there are kids with disabilities like Liam, although he appears to be very high functioning. We may actually be able to break a few things down after he recovers a bit longer, although I don’t like to wait. Kids tend to forget or bury their fears. The parents may put the brakes on if Liam acts distressed or fearful. Parents feel guilty they couldn’t protect their child and just want to move on.”

  “Can you blame them?” Jacque noticed Perez talking to a few members of the other search and rescue team. They were staring at the ground, shaking their heads. She gripped one man’s arm and appeared to be offering some kind of bad news. “Well, that can’t be good.”

  Perez hurried over to join them and sighed. “Tonya died an hour ago.”

  “Let me guess. The cause of death is hard to determine,” Jacque blurted in frustration.

  She nodded. “The medical examiner will take a closer look, but the doctors could find nothing overtly wrong.” Taking a deep breath, she hurried on to say, “I put security on Abby at the hospital and told them not to discharge her. Her parents have been alerted.”

  Farrentino finished tying his lace-up boots. “I’m telling you right now. Whatever took the girl isn’t going to be coming into a hospital. But if I were you”—he spread his hands out toward the crew preparing to go into the woods—“I’d keep a buddy close.”

  Chapter 31

  Once Cleo sucked in the fresh air, it was knocked from her wh
en the creature dropped her face-first onto the ground. A painful moan escaped from deep inside as she landed on her injured wrist. She rolled over onto her back and stared upward to what appeared to be a giant tree, but as the fog of pain cleared, she realized it was something more menacing.

  Scrambling to her knees then feet, she stumbled backward like a clumsy turtle who had landed on its shell and tried to right itself. If her body had not stopped against the drooping boughs of a lopsided pine tree, she might have once more found herself on the ground. The penetrating gaze and statue-still stance of the over-seven-foot creature, paralyzed her with fear. This was not the same one from inside the kiva.

  Although just as tall, this Chaveyo wore things that reminded her of a costume she’d seen in Native American museums her entire life. It may have even been more accurate than those she’d studied. This one reminded her of the stories she’d heard about the Chaveyo ritual of trotting through the plaza, searching for victims. Resembling those stories, this one wore a skin mask with bits of cedar bark strung over the top. A war ax and a saber, much like the other Chaveyo, appeared as if it were handmade of wood. How could they be so different yet the same?

  Strangely enough, he held her shoe she’d lost the night before and tossed it to her. Slipping it on quickly, Cleo followed his movements as he lifted the saber from the ground and extended it at her then toward an opening in the woods.

  “Run. Chaveyo returns. Run. Now.”

  Cleo realized this creature was a man, not a Chaveyo from the sapapu hole in the kiva. Although just as terrifying, this one could speak. She eased to a standing position and prepared to run, but he blocked the path to the way he’d pointed. With a few side steps, she tried to edge closer to what appeared to be an overgrown trail. His chest moved in and out at a rapid pace as he began to twirl the ax like a baton. The irritated grunts he uttered caused her to freeze in place. Without warning, he charged her, yelling words she couldn’t understand. Her foot slipped as she tried to outmaneuver him, but it was too late. Swinging the ax up over his head with one hand, he dropped the saber from his other hand, and grabbed the front of her shirt, yanking her forward.