by Val Welch
She laughed as she sat down. “He hasn’t tried that in a couple of decades.”
He started wheeling her out of the room. “Oh yeah? With that ponytail you look about sixteen.”
Three
Gabe crawled out of bed at dawn, downed two cups of coffee and went for a five mile run in the chilly forty-two degree morning. His house was near a small fishing lake a couple of miles from Pine Ridge. His route took him around the lake as the first rays of the sunrise broke through the pine trees.
He was actually surprised. For the first time in years, he wasn’t worrying about his missing fiancé Eden Malone as he ran around the lake.
He was thinking about Shelby Ryan. A magna cum laude from Georgetown Law and ten years with the FBI’s counter-terrorism division, she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known. After he’d convinced her not to shoot him, he’d thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her. He laughed aloud as he thought of it. The way she’d held that gun on him had left no doubt in his mind that she was fully capable of pulling the trigger. And he found that attribute surprisingly attractive. She was one strong willed woman and damn, maybe it was time for someone like her in his life.
He finished his run, showered and made it to the station by seven. Helen Baxter, his dispatcher slash secretary, was pouring coffee into his mug as he walked into the outer office. She’d been timing that maneuver perfectly for the last ten years.
She peered at him over her reading glasses. “Good Morning, Chief. Heard you saved Doc’s daughter last night.”
“The rumor mill’s working fast. There wasn’t much to it. I just picked her up off the road and took her to the hospital.”
“What’s she like?”
He hung his hat and jacket on the rack. “Nice enough.”
Helen followed him into his office, set the coffee along with a pile of phone messages on his desk. “That’s all? Nice enough?”
He sat down and tried to ignore her questioning look as she doggedly stood in front of his desk. “Yes, Helen, that’s all.”
She looked down at him. “You know, sooner or later you’re going to have to give the female gender another chance. We’re not all like Eden Malone. And God knows you’re not getting any younger.”
“Helen, please go answer the radio and leave my love life to me.”
“What love life?” she snorted as she moseyed back through the door.
He leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Damn, why do I put up with her?
Four
Shelby awoke slightly disoriented. She’d spent so many months in dreary hotel rooms that it took her a moment to comprehend that she was in her bedroom at Doc’s house.
Her head hurt, her shoulder was sore, and her mouth tasted like crap. She threw the comforter off, gingerly climbed out of bed and stumbled across the room to the bathroom. She turned on the shower water to warm, stood under the bright florescent lights and squinted into the mirror. Her hair was a matted mess. The right side of her forehead where she’d been hit by her coffee cup was swollen and turning an interesting shade of purple. It almost matched the bruises over most of her upper torso.
She peeled the splint off her arm, flexed her wrist a couple times before tossing the splint into the trash. She stepped into the shower, eased under the hot water and thought about all that had gone wrong the previous day.
It had started well enough. She, along with her partner Carson Billings, had just been assigned the biggest case of her ten-year career—the bombing of the Sycamore Canyon Power Plant located in a remote corner of northern Arizona.
They’d left the Albuquerque office in the early morning and were in Holbrook, Arizona, by eleven a.m. They had lunch with two agents from Phoenix before going to the power plant and conducting interviews with a group of employees they suspected might have information regarding the bombing.
It was late afternoon by the time she’d decided to take the weekend off and spend some time with Doc in Pine Ridge. While driving on a lonely stretch of isolated dirt road, a black ford pickup pulled up behind her and stayed right on her bumper. She’d pulled to the edge of the roadway and slowed, giving the truck ample room to go around. But the truck continued to ride her tail. She had just rounded a sharp curve when the truck pulled alongside and abruptly swerved toward her. She swerved away, lost control of the SUV and it rolled. The last thing she saw as the SUV rolled was the black truck speeding away.
She was still trying to shake off the dazed confusion of hanging upside down in her seatbelt when she heard what she thought was the truck returning. She dropped out of her seatbelt, grabbed her service weapon and scrambled out the passenger side window. She was still getting her bearings when Gabe Navarro arrived on scene.
Now, after spending time with him, she wished she could have handled the situation with Navarro differently, told him more. But she had strict orders to keep local law enforcement in the dark.
After her shower, she slicked her wet hair back, dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants and followed the aroma of bacon out to Doc’s kitchen. She found Doc busy at the stove and wandered over to check out the menu. “Good morning, Doc.”
He tipped her chin up with his finger and closely looked into her eyes. “Good morning, Shelby. How do you feel?”
“I’m sore all over and I have bruises exactly where the shoulder and lap belts were.”
“That’s to be expected. Do you want pain meds?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that bad.”
He turned back to the stove and filled a couple of plates with bacon and scrambled eggs.
“I can’t get over Gabe Navarro finding you out there.”
“Lucky for me he came along when he did. So … what’s his story?”
He looked at her with a raised brow. “He’s single, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No,” she laughed. “I wasn’t asking that.”
“Why not? You could do worse. Actually, you have done worse, haven’t you?”
“Hey, give me a break. You and Mom were not exactly a match made in heaven.”
He carried their plates over to the breakfast nook and took his seat. “Yes, I know. But I got it right the second time,” he said, lowering his head.
Shelby sat down, reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Margie was a wonderful woman. This big old house seems very empty without her.”
He sighed, wiped a tear from his eye and smiled across the table at her. “I’ve got lots of room for the grandkids you’re going to give me.”
“Right. And what would I do with these grandkids while I traipse around looking for bad guys?”
He waved around the kitchen. “Leave them with me. I’ll retire and take care of them while you’re out of town.”
“Doc, you know I really want kids, but I’m pushing forty fast and there’s no man in sight.”
“Hell, you don’t need a man. Just go to the sperm bank. I have two single patients who got pregnant that way.”
“Really?”
There was a knock at the back door.
“I wonder who that is.” Doc said. He left the table and went down the short service hall to the mudroom.
Shelby heard Gabe Navarro’s unmistakable drawl as he and Doc walked back down the hall. She wasn’t dressed for company and slouched down in her chair when they entered the kitchen.
Navarro folded his long lanky body into the chair across from her and sat his Stetson, brim up, on the empty chair next to him. “Good morning, Special Agent Ryan.”
She knew from the grim line of his mouth and his formal greeting that something was up. She crossed her arms and sank lower into her chair. “Good morning, Chief Navarro.”
Doc poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Navarro. He took a cautious sip and looked at her over the rim. “How are you feeling this morning?”
She pushed her plate aside. “Fine.”
He pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open. �
�Good. Then you won’t mind answering a few questions for the official accident report.”
She knew that was BS. The accident had happened twenty miles from Pine Ridge and Navarro’s jurisdiction. If anything, a county deputy should have come to take her report.
She watched as he checked his watch and noted the time in his notebook.
“Can you tell me what happened yesterday when you rolled your vehicle?”
“Yeah. An animal ran across the road in front of me. I swerved and the SUV rolled.”
“Can you describe the animal?”
“I believe it was a coyote.”
“Were there any other vehicles traveling on the roadway at the time?”
“No.”
Navarro looked across the table, his eyes meeting hers. “Was the coyote carrying a handgun?”
She dropped her eyes and stared into her coffee cup.
She felt his eyes on her until she finally looked up, pushed her still damp hair back and shook her head.
He clicked the pen a couple of times. “Special Agent Ryan, please answer the question.”
“No.”
“No, you won’t answer? Or. No, the coyote was not carrying a handgun?”
“Just. No.”
“Okay,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as his gaze met hers. “Let’s try it this way. How do you explain the two nine millimeter slugs the county crime lab found in your left rear bumper and the bullet hole in your left rear tire?”
Shit. That’s not good news. She shrugged. “I don’t have any idea.”
Navarro leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and continued to glare across the table. “You are aware of the penalties for obstruction of justice … aren’t you?”
Who the hell does this guy think he is? She leaned forward. “Chief Navarro, I have nothing to say to you on this subject.”
His jaw muscles bunched and he tersely said, “I’m sworn to uphold the public safety and if someone is driving around shooting at vehicles, I need to know about it.”
She placed her hands on the table and slowly stood. “This conversation is over.”
“Okay,” he said, calmly looking up at her. “If that’s the way you want to play it. I’ll have to go through channels and make an official complaint to your superiors then.” He closed his notebook and stood.
“Fine,” she said, before turning and walking out of the room.
Five
Shelby closed her bedroom door, picked up her cell phone and called Carson. “Hey, it’s me.”
“What time is it?” Carson asked, yawning into the phone.
“Time for you to get your lazy butt out of bed. Someone tried to kill me yesterday.”
She heard his quick intake of air. “When?”
“After I left you. A black ford pickup tried to run me off the road. They actually took some shots, blew out my back tire and I rolled the SUV.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, cuts and bruises, no big deal. The bigger issue is the local chief of police found me and took me to the hospital. I told him I’d swerved to avoid a coyote and rolled the SUV, but the county crime lab found the slugs. So, he just showed up and asked me if the coyote was packing.” She laughed.
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I clammed up, he got hostile and is threatening to go over my head.”
“Shelby, we’ve been on the case twenty-four hours and you’ve already blown it. You know there were to be no local agencies involved in the operation. Does he know who you are?”
“Oh yeah, it only gets worse. He’s a friend of Doc’s. He’s already made the connection to the power plant and EFA.”
“Not good. Are you calling Morgan or am I?”
“I’ll call him. Run a couple of names for me, okay?”
“Sure, shoot.”
“Carl Watkins.”
“Watkins? The big guy from the power plant?”
“Yeah. See if he drives a black ford pickup. After how belligerent he got during the interview, I’ve got a hunch he may be involved.”
“Okay, who’s the other one?”
“Gabe Navarro, the Pine Ridge police chief.”
“Gabe Navarro? He’s in the case notes I finally had time to read last night. He’s a suspect and exactly the reason they wanted to keep the locals out of it.”
Shelby sat down hard on the bed. “Why did Morgan not tell me that?”
“I doubt Morgan knows. We got this case dumped on us. None of us were fully briefed.”
“So, what’s the story with Navarro?”
“He has ties to two known EFA members, Eden and William Malone. Brother and sister. Evidently, Eden Malone was his long-time girlfriend and she followed her brother off the deep end when their parents were killed by a logging truck. They sabotaged the logging operation and an employee was killed. They’ve been on the run until they were picked up with the rest of the EFA suspects in Tucson.”
“I have a hard time believing Navarro’s involved.”
“It’s one really big coincidence that he came along right after someone tried to kill you.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t see it. He had every opportunity to try something after he picked me up and all he did was transport me to the hospital. I wish we’d had more time to get into the case files. I hate getting thrown into something this complex blind.”
“I know. But we’ve got to run with it. I’m going to start a query on Watkins, pack and I’ll be there in a couple hours. I want you to stay put at Doc’s until I get there. Navarro may not be involved, but someone tried to kill you yesterday.”
Six
As soon as Gabe returned to his office, he started making phone calls. Three hours later, he was in his truck when his cell phone rang.
“Hello, Chief Navarro. This is Special Agent Ryan with the FBI. I have been instructed to brief you on our investigation of the Sycamore Canyon Power Plant bombing and the attempt on my life yesterday. When are you available to meet with me?”
Gabe held the phone from his ear, as if the caustic tone of her voice could actually burn him. He stared at it for a few seconds, put it back to his ear and said, “Six tonight, at Navarro’s Restaurant.” He ended the call and stuffed the cell phone into his shirt pocket.
* * * * *
Shelby stood looking at the dead cell phone in her hand.
Carson, all six foot three, 230 pounds of him was sprawled on her bed flipping through some computer geek magazine. He looked up and asked, “So, when’s the meeting?”
“Six at Navarro’s Restaurant.”
“He has a restaurant?”
She shrugged. “His family does. I’ve been there before. Really nice. Good food. His parents are friends of Doc’s. Actually, if I remember correctly, his father may have passed away a couple of years ago.”
“How mad was Morgan about Navarro?”
“He was not happy Navarro went over his head and we have to bring him into the investigation. But, he does agree with me that Navarro is probably not involved.”
Carson tossed his magazine onto the bed. “I wonder what my query on Watkins turned up.” He reached over the edge of the bed, grabbed his laptop from his backpack and opened it on his lap. Shelby watched mesmerized as his bulky fingers danced over the delicate keys. The incongruity of a jarhead ex-marine being the best computer specialist in the section never failed to amaze her. He looked far more suited to be decked out in tactical gear, toting an automatic weapon, than sitting cross-legged on her bed hunched over a laptop.
Her eyes wandered over his finely chiseled features to the exposed nape of his neck and the almost irresistible urge to touch him washed over her. It wasn’t the first urge either.
“Bingo! Watkins and his wife are the registered owners of a black, 2008, Ford F-150, four-wheel-drive pickup,” Carson said, grinning at her.
Shelby sat down on the bed and looked over his shoulder. “Anything else?”
“His criminal reco
rd is clean, just a couple of speeding tickets and some youthful offenses that have been expunged.”
“Really? What were they for?”
He grinned at her. “You do know what expunged means?”
She smacked him on the back of the head. “Yeah, it means you need to delve a little deeper into your little bag of computer geek tricks.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re going to land me in Leavenworth. Hold on … let me see if I can get it … here it is. Whoa! Seven arson counts over a three year period, ten years ago.”
“Hmmm, that’s interesting. Any connection to the EFA members we just picked up?”
They watched the screen as Carson ran the query and the command line reported no records found.
Carson looked at her. “Now what?”
“We’re tied up with the Navarro dinner meeting. Let’s fill Morgan in on Watson. See if he can send someone over to talk to him tonight. But, unless the guy confesses and hands over a 9mm for ballistics comparison, it’s not going to go anywhere.”
“I’ll send Morgan an e-mail.”
“This is definitely going to be an interesting dinner,” she said, climbing off the bed and walking into her closet.
She looked through the clothes hanging there, bypassing her jeans and business suits to a slinky little black dress she’d been dragging around for months, hoping there’d be an occasion to wear it.
She glanced over her shoulder at Carson. He was again intently typing on his laptop, totally oblivious to what she was doing. She closed the closet door, quickly pulled off her T-shirt and sweatpants and pulled the dress over her head. It still fit. Like a glove.
She smiled and walked out of the closet. “What do you think?”
Carson glanced up from his laptop, did a double take and emitted a long low whistle. “I think that’s probably illegal in several states.”
She laughed and crossed the bedroom to look into the full-length mirror mounted on the back of the door.
