Eagle Warrior

by Jenna Kernan

  He shouted to her that the police were coming and to stay put. Then he went to check out the damage the guy had done inside. He stepped over Mr. Peck to find a huge mess in the bedroom that had recently been occupied by Morgan’s father. The mattress lay askew, bedding stripped, dresser drawers all emptied out.

  Ray looked back at the intruder. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

  A glance in Lisa’s and Morgan’s rooms showed the man had either not looked there yet or chosen to focus on Karl’s room.

  Her father, Karl Hutton Hooke, had shot and killed the mass murderer who’d killed nine people down at the Lilac Copper Mine near the border last February. Ovidio Natal Sanchez had been apprehended in the town right outside the reservation boundary. On the very day the suspect had been delivered into custody, Mr. Hooke had walked right up and shot Sanchez twice through the heart. Nobody could explain why Karl had done it and, according to Jack, Morgan’s dad refused to speak to anyone, including his court-appointed attorney.

  Ray heard a sound in the hall and returned to find his captive make a failed attempt to rise.

  “What were you looking for, Peck?”

  Peck groaned and rolled his head from one side to the other. His hand went to his nose. He coughed blood and opened one eye.

  “You want to tell me why you’re here?” asked Ray.

  “Do I know you?” Peck tried to staunch the copious amounts of blood issuing from his nose with his index finger and thumb. This forced the blood in a new direction and he began to cough.

  “We only just met. Why are you here?”

  “I was just...” His eyes shifted toward the kitchen, judging the distance to freedom and finding it too far. “I...it...”

  “Yes?” Ray asked, lifting his brows and affecting a look of interest.

  “I’m not saying a thing without a lawyer.”

  Ray smiled. “You have me confused with a law-abiding citizen. So let me explain.” Ray squatted on his haunches and grabbed Mr. Peck, lifting him by the front of his bloody shirt. “I’m Apache and on my reservation.” Ray showed him his empty hand. “I could kill you with this.

  “Plus I have a criminal record and a bad temper. I’m not calling you a lawyer. So once again. Why, Mr. Peck, are you lying in Miss Hooke’s hallway?”

  Mr. Peck started to cry. “Please. You got to let me go.”

  Ray sighed and then shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

  “I can pay you.”

  “Pay me?” Ray snorted. “This lady is a friend of mine. You scared her. So it’s gone past money.” Ray lifted Andrew’s index finger and gave it a shake. “I expect a bank manager needs these.”

  Peck tried and failed to recover his hand with a weak tug. When he reached with his opposite hand Ray slapped him in the forehead with the heel of one hand. Peck’s head thumped on the carpet and his hand fell away.

  “I’m about to break this. Fair warning.”

  “All right. I was looking for the money.”

  The obvious question was what money, but Ray didn’t do obvious.

  “Yeah. Me, too. Why do you think it’s here?”

  Andrew’s mouth quirked and a little of the fear left his expression. His pale twitchy eyes reminded Ray of a rodent.

  “He didn’t have much time between when he cashed the check and shot that man. Maybe twenty-four hours.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “She doesn’t seem to have it. Or she’s real smart. So I figured I’d start here.”

  “And you chose a time when Ms. Hooke would find you. Why?”

  “No. I thought she worked nights at the casino. Somebody at the bank said so.”

  “She did. But her father used to watch her daughter. Now she’s alone so...”

  Andrew absorbed that. “Oh, yeah. Right. So what do you say? Fifty-fifty?”

  “How much we talking here, Andy?”

  His mouth clamped shut and he sniffed. Ray selected which digit to break and Peck writhed and whined.

  “Okay. Okay. It was two hundred thousand. A bank check. He asked for cash. We had to make him come back. I don’t keep that much on hand. So he came back, you know, the next day and the check was good. So I cashed it. And he walked right out of there with that money in a cardboard box. Just folded over the top flaps and tucked it under his arm.”

  Two hundred thousand? No wonder Kenshaw Little Falcon thought Morgan and her girl needed protection.

  “You cleared the check?” asked Ray.

  Peck nodded. “Sure did, after the bank in Phoenix cleared the funds.”

  How long had this twerp been watching Morgan, Ray wondered.

  “Karl went away two months ago. Why now?” asked Ray.

  “Because people are asking questions now. They’re after it, the money. So, I thought I’d better get moving. I’d asked Ms. Hooke personally on two separate occasions when she came into the bank if she needed help investing. She declined. Seemed kind of puzzled. I think she’s got it tucked in a mattress or something.” Peck coughed blood and sniffed. “Say, mind if I sit down?”

  Ray ignored the request. “What people?”

  “A detective from Darabee came back in February, the one that got shot.”

  “Eli Casey?”

  “Yes, so I figured he was out of the picture. But then a man came right to my church last Sunday morning and right during fellowship hour he asked me if I was the one who cashed the check for Karl in the amount of two hundred thousand dollars. I was so shocked I said, yes.” Peck moved his hand and sniffed. Blood continued to flow down his face and neck. “Can I get a paper towel or some ice?”

  “No. Who was he, the one from church?”

  “I never saw him before. He didn’t give me his name.”

  “You tell him anything else?”

  “I may have said that the daughter’s name was Morgan and she worked nights at the tribe’s casino.”

  Last Sunday, Ray thought, the day before Kenshaw called him in to watch Morgan.

  The sound of sirens reached him, still a ways off. He turned his head and then looked back at Peck, noting the moment he heard the approaching police.

  “You called the cops?”

  “You’re trespassing on sovereign land.”

  “What about our deal?”

  “Only deal I’ll make is that if I ever see you on tribal land again, I’ll break this.” He set Peck’s hand on his chest and gave it a little pat. “And, if I see you near Morgan or Lisa Hooke again, I’ll kill you.”

  Peck trembled. Somehow the man sensed Ray wasn’t bluffing. He was surprised to recognize that he wasn’t making idle threats. He knew himself capable of killing this man for daring to touch Morgan. Why did this woman rouse every protective instinct in Ray’s body? That question troubled him more than this miserable excuse for a burglar.

  And who was the man at the casino asking questions? Ray set his teeth as he realized the threat to Morgan may have only just begun.

  Chapter Three

  Peck’s eyes widened. As Ray stood over him, the bank manager rose to his elbows.

  “You want it for yourself. Did you find it already? Is it gone?”

  “Yeah. Gone.” Ray made an exploding motion with both hands.

  Ray left him to meet the police, passing Morgan and Lisa still sitting in the shabby white Honda with the windows rolled up and fogging. He noticed the gray duct tape securing the driver’s side mirror and shook his head. She needed someone to look after her.

  Morgan looked up at him with big wide eyes and in that moment she didn’t look much older than her ten-year-old. He wondered two things simultaneously. How old had she been when she’d had Lisa and who was the bastard who left her all alone?

  He gave Morgan a smile as he passed and belatedly noticed he had a bloody h
oodie.

  He knew the young officer who’d arrived first and directed him to the intruder. The next one he sent to speak to Morgan and Lisa.

  “Tell her I’m her neighbor. I live right there.” He pointed at the house behind hers.

  “I thought you lived in Pinyon Forks,” said Officer Cox.

  “Looking after a friend’s place for a few days while he’s away.”

  Ray waited a few minutes for Jack to arrive. It didn’t take long to tell him what he’d learned.

  “He might press charges,” said Jack.

  Ray shrugged and made a hissing sound of dismissal. “So?”

  Jack left it at that. He spoke to Morgan and her girl and oversaw the removal of the crying mess that Andrew Peck had become as his dreams of riches turned to the real possibility of jail time.

  Peck went into a police unit and Jack waved Ray over to make introductions. Morgan stood with an arm resting protectively on her daughter’s narrow shoulders. Lisa stayed close and very still, watching them.

  “Ms. Hooke, this is an old friend of mine, Ray Strong. Ray and I served together in Iraq. I’m sure you have met him at some point. We were only a year ahead of you in school.”

  Jack didn’t mention that Ray had dropped out and had to take his GED in order to join up with Carter, Dylan, Jack and Hatch.

  The awkward pause coupled with Jack’s scowl made Ray realize that Jack wanted him to chime in.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Ray. “Nice to see you again, Morgan. Long time.” He rubbed his neck and glanced to Jack who lifted his chin as if silently ordering him to continue. Ray hated small talk. “I’m staying in Felix’s place while he’s away.”

  Morgan’s expression brightened and she glanced toward her neighbor’s house.

  “Felix Potts? He told me he was going to Waco to visit his daughter and the new baby. It’s her third.”

  Her voice was musical, like a flute, full of light air and sweet tones.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Ray, his skin prickling now. “Isn’t that something?”

  Ray’s customary position with women was that they either turned him on or they didn’t. If they did and they liked men with a bad reputation, and a surprising number did like that, then they were off to the races. Now he found himself in the awkward position of having to chat with a woman he had no intention of sleeping with.

  He knew enough to stay clear of single mothers for a lot of valid reasons. And beyond that, it was a bad idea to mix work and play.

  “He didn’t tell me you’d be watching the place,” said Morgan.

  Because Kenshaw had called Potts after he’d left to ask if a fellow Turquoise Guardian could stay in his place. The answer, of course, was yes.

  “Well, I’m watching it but he’s helping me out. I lost my place recently so...” He looked to Jack to take over. Because he was terrible at making stuff up. Not at lying, he was very good at lying, convincing to a fault.

  Morgan held her smile and she now did look beautiful. The pause stretched and her smile faded.

  “Ray is a hotshot,” said Jack. “One of our captains.”

  Morgan looked impressed and well she should. Their forest-fighting team was nationally recognized and much requested. They flew all over the country battling blazes. Seemed the Apache men were good at fighting anything, including fires.

  Morgan gave Ray a long, speculative look and he could almost feel her gaze like a caress. His skin tingled and his palms began to itch. That wasn’t good. Now he was staring at her mouth and his gaze had become speculative. Her lips and cheeks seemed especially pink.

  She cleared her throat and he met her curious expression with a grin. That grin had gotten him into more trouble than his fists. Her brows lifted as if reading the vibe he was sending and not knowing what to do with it.

  “He’ll be back next week. Will you be staying on when he comes home?” asked Morgan.

  Ray squinted, wondering how to play this. “I need to find a place. I’m looking around.”

  Her gaze swept over him and he wished they were alone. He thought of Morgan’s bed and imagined her stretched out naked on that the white coverlet. Clearly the sexual part of his brain had re-emerged. He shifted his position at the unwelcome ache that began below his belt.

  “You were in the casino today,” she said.

  And yesterday and the day before that, he thought.

  “Guilty,” he said.

  “Did I get you a drink?” she asked.

  “No. I just come in to watch...”

  Her frown deepened.

  He grinned wider. “To watch the games on the big screens.”

  “Oh!” Her cheeks went bright pink.

  Shame on her for making assumptions, he thought.

  “Baseball,” she said and smiled, the tension easing out of her shoulders.

  Her daughter wiggled out from beneath her mother’s arm to take a step closer to Jack. She was staring up at the detective who was six-five in his stocking feet and now wore boots. If she didn’t quit she’d get a crick in her neck.

  “Are you Apache?” she asked him.

  Ray’s gaze shifted to Jack whose mouth went tight. Most folks didn’t come right out and ask, but Lisa was ten and ten-year-olds were as blunt as dull axes.

  “Yeah. Sure am. Roadrunner Clan. You?”

  Lisa was still eying the mountain of a man that Jack had become. He looked more Samoan than Apache and it was a constant sore spot for Jack.

  “I’m Butterfly Clan,” said Lisa. “Why was that man in our house?”

  Ray watched Morgan to see what her reaction might be and found her looking as curious as Lisa. Had working in that casino taught her to bluff or was she in the dark?

  Was it possible that her father had not told her about the money?

  He had other questions, chief of which was what in the wide world had Karl Hutton Hooke done to receive a bank check for two hundred thousand dollars with his name written on it?

  The answer seemed obvious. Her father had been paid to kill the Lilac Copper Mine Gunman. That meant that Karl Hutton Hooke was a hitman and whoever paid him had not wanted the mass gunman to stand trial. It also meant that there was a whole mess of money missing.

  Jack escorted Morgan back inside and together they checked the house. Only her father’s room had been disturbed, but Andy had even gone so far as to slice the pillows and mattress.

  “What a mess,” Ray said from the doorway.

  Morgan directed her question to Jack. “What was he looking for, Detective Bear Den?”

  Chapter Four

  “Not sure what he was looking for, Morgan,” said Detective Bear Den. “Did your dad have anything of special value?”

  Both Jack and Ray watched Morgan who seemed to be considering the question while lightly rubbing her fingertips over her lips. The small gesture sent an unexpected shot of longing straight to Ray’s groin.

  He lifted his brows in surprise. He didn’t go for this sort of woman, the “attached with child, daughter of a murderer who might be involved with some very bad people” sort. But there it was, Ray Strong making the worst possible choice, as usual.

  His attention now became speculative. What kind of a woman was Morgan in bed?

  “He had some of those state quarters,” said Morgan. “Turquoise jewelry. Not a lot.”

  She convinced Ray. If he was a betting man, and of course, he was, he would say dear old Dad had forgotten to tell his girl that he’d had a payday that might just get her and her daughter killed.

  They all moved inside and gathered in the kitchen in a loose circle between the dinette and the worn Formica counters.

  “You have somewhere you can stay tonight?” asked Jack.

  Morgan drew Lisa in beside her, and her daughte
r hugged her mom around the middle. Morgan stood in bare feet still wearing the cocktail outfit that looked garish in the drab little kitchen.

  “Lisa could stay at her best friend’s. The Herons live right next door. But I... I think I’d better stay here.”

  “You have someone to call, maybe help you clean up?” asked Jack.

  “I can help,” said Ray.

  Morgan’s face scrunched up in a way that told Ray that he was less than smooth in her eyes.

  “That’s not necessary,” she said, her smile all tight and dismissive now. That made Ray want to remind her who had removed the vermin from her house.

  “I’ll have an officer escort you and Lisa to the Herons’,” said Jack.

  Jack left them and called from the door into the yard. Ray clasped his bloody hands behind his back and gave Morgan a half smile that he hoped made him look less threatening. Jack returned with a young man that Ray knew.

  “Ms. Hooke, this is Officer Wetselline,” said Jack, sounding all professional now. “He’ll walk you over to the Herons’. Maybe you want to wait over there until we finish up here.”

  She nodded her head and took hold of Lisa’s hand. “I’ll be back.”

  Ray watched Morgan go and wondered what she’d look like in tight jeans and a thin white T-shirt. Ever since he’d started watching her, he couldn’t stop these images from creeping into his mind. Why her? He didn’t date women with children but he liked Lisa and Morgan had the sort of appeal that seemed deeper than physical. She was such a dedicated mom and supportive daughter. Many women would have distanced themselves from a father who committed such a reprehensible act. Not her. According to Kenshaw, she visited her father, often. Respectable, upstanding, devoted, yeah...not his type.

  Jack snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s face, bringing his attention away from Morgan. Jack filled Ray in on his conversation with their shaman.

  “He wants you here on site with Ms. Hooke.”