by Jenna Kernan
“What? How am I supposed to pull that off?” asked Ray.
“I’m going to suggest Morgan not be alone. That her father’s arrest might have repercussions for her and Lisa.”
“You’re not going to tell her about the money?”
“You said that Peck asked her about the money,” said Jack.
“That’s the first thing I heard when I came in. But she thinks we’re talking about state quarters.” The image of Morgan being dragged backward by that cowardly little branch manager made Ray want to punch him in the face all over again.
“I can ask her a second time, suggest that her father might have some additional money.”
“Don’t suggest. Tell her the truth. Her father might have been paid to shoot Ovidio Sanchez. He cashed a huge check the day before he went to jail and that pecker Peck was in her home, looking for the loot.”
“This could be very dangerous for her. So I’m going to recommend strongly that she consider hiring a bodyguard. Then I’m putting your hat in the ring.”
“I’m no bodyguard.”
Jack seemed to know where his mind was going. “You couldn’t get to him, Ray. There wasn’t time.”
Ray never missed a beat as he skipped to Iraq and the night that none of them would ever forget.
“But I could have let him ride with Mullins. Mullins wanted him. But I stuck him with Tromgartner.” The prank had not been funny. Instead it had cost his best friend his life. If only that had been all.
“I didn’t get to them either,” said Jack. In fact, Jack had held Ray back and let go only to grab his brother Carter. Then he’d run them both out leaving Hatch behind.
Ray blew out a breath. Jack scratched at the stubble on his jaw and smoothly changed the subject.
“She doesn’t seem to know anything about the money.”
“Who knows what she knows,” said Ray. You would think a detective would be more suspicious.
“Let me talk to her when she gets back and you wash the blood off your hands.”
“This is a mistake. Kenshaw should call Dylan Tehauno. He’s clean-cut, responsible. And he’s not crazy. That’s for sure.”
“Maybe she needs crazy to protect her from bigger crazy.”
Ray sighed. He’d never felt less prepared for a job.
“One thing I know,” said Jack. “Morgan Hooke will be in danger until that money is found.”
Ray couldn’t dispute that because it was true. Her father had made a mistake going to a bank so close to home. Maybe it didn’t matter. That kind of money would bring trouble even if trouble had to travel long distances.
“Fox guarding the hen house,” muttered Ray.
“Yeah, well that hen got plucked a long time ago.”
Ray was interested in this conversation. “Who?”
“Don’t know. No rumors even.”
Ray frowned. In a small place like this, there were always rumors. “See if you can find out.”
“Because?” asked Jack.
“Because I’m curious, is all.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
He sounded so shocked it pissed Ray right off.
“Yeah.”
“Not your type, Ray.”
“I know that, Jack.”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can find out.”
Jack followed his officer, leaving Ray in Karl Hooke’s empty bedroom. Ray ducked into the bathroom to wash his hands and then returned to set Karl’s room in order. First, he righted the dresser. Jack returned as Ray was sliding the mattress back in place.
“Where would you put it?” asked Jack.
“Not in the room beside where my granddaughter slept.” As if he’d ever have a granddaughter, Ray thought, which he wouldn’t. He was actually shocked he’d lived this long.
“You think Kenshaw knows?” asked Jack.
The two shared a hard look. He understood what Jack was asking. Detective Jack Bear Den wondered if their shaman knew about the money when tribal law enforcement did not. Ray knew Kenshaw had some information because he’d asked Ray to find out if Morgan knew who hired her dad. That meant Kenshaw either knew or suspected that Morgan’s dad did not act of his own volition. Did Kenshaw also know about the money?
Is that why his shaman had sent him? Was it more than a stranger’s interest in Morgan that caused Kenshaw to send Ray to her? He couldn’t send a detective to investigate this because Jack had an obligation to uphold the law and investigate crimes. Meanwhile Ray was blissfully free of such responsibility—any responsibility really, including taking care of houseplants.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” said Ray. “Might be that Kenshaw saw Hooke make the withdrawal at the bank or Hooke contacted him to look after his girls.”
Jack made a face. “Or maybe Carter was right.”
Jack’s twin brother, Carter, was currently in federal protection with his new wife, Amber Kitcheyan, who was Kenshaw Little Falcon’s niece. They were witnesses in a federal case involving an eco-extremist group called WOLF. Carter had been sent by Little Falcon to deliver a message to their shaman’s niece. As a result, his niece had survived the slaying that had killed everyone else in her office, and Jack’s brother was now gone from the rez as the Feds prepared their case. Jack feared Carter might have to enter witness protection after the case settled because of possible threats from the extremists. Jack believed the timing of Carter’s mission was evidence that their spiritual leader and head of their medicine society had foreknowledge of the mass slaying. If he did, Jack was obliged to arrest him.
“I’m back,” called Morgan from the open doorway.
“Wait here,” said Jack to Ray.
He did as he was told, setting the drawers back in the dresser and then piling the scattered clothing on the bed. He wondered about Morgan’s father. He understood the need for a payday. But he did not understand risking his freedom and his daughter’s life in the pursuit of money. Whether it had been his intention or not, Morgan’s life was now in danger because Ray just knew that branch manager Andrew Peck was not the sort of man who could keep a secret. The minute he figured out he needed help to get his greedy mitts on the loot, he would tell someone—someone more competent and more dangerous.
More would come for the money and when they couldn’t find it, they’d come after Morgan and her daughter. Their troubles were far from over and Ray wondered again if he was up to the task Kenshaw had set for him. Keeping Morgan safe just became a full-time gig.
Chapter Five
Morgan felt suddenly unsure about entering her own kitchen. Officer Wetselline had accompanied her from the Herons’ home back here. And she knew her attacker was gone. But still her heart hammered as she stood poised to cross that threshold.
Flashes of the attack exploded like fireworks in her mind. Lisa’s scream. Her own voice. Run! The man growling as he yanked her backward against his fleshy body. Where is it?
“Ma’am?” asked the young patrolman behind her.
She glanced back at him, enfolding herself in a hug and rubbing at the gooseflesh that lifted on her arm.
“Getting cold,” she said, making excuses for her chattering teeth.
“Would you like me to walk you in?” he asked.
She smiled and was about to tell him that was unnecessary, but her stomach tightened and she felt dizzy at just the thought of walking down that hallway.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Thank you.”
His skeptical look told her she hadn’t fooled him.
She glanced about the empty interior. Her daughter’s checked nylon lunch bag sat on the counter with the sack of milk and groceries. The red-and-white soup can had rolled halfway across the dull surface. Otherwise everything looked normal. She stepped gingerly inside and fel
t the terror close in as she realized how close her daughter had been to the intruder. Her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder. She swallowed and then called out to Detective Bear Den.
“I’m back.”
Morgan glanced out the door, past the officer to the lights of her neighbor’s kitchen. She knew that Lisa was safe with Trish and Guy Heron. Her neighbors had naturally been concerned about the break-in, but she assured them that the guy had been caught and that she just needed to clean the place up before retrieving her daughter. They had been wonderful, as always. The Herons’ daughter, Ami, was Lisa’s best friend and the two of them had disappeared into Ami’s room moments after their arrival.
Where is it?
The chill climbed up Morgan’s neck.
Where was what? she wondered.
Ray Strong was nowhere in sight, but Detective Bear Den stepped out from the hallway and paused in the eat-in kitchen beside the oval table. His tread was light for such a big man. She had known him since elementary school when he had begun growing early and fast. Lord, he was big. She also remembered his brother, Carter, because his twin did not look a thing like Jack. None of the younger Bear Den boys had Jack’s build or looks either. It had caused Jack trouble all his life.
She vaguely remembered that Ray Strong had been connected with something bad.
“How is Lisa?” asked the detective.
“Scared. But all right. What was he looking for?” she asked. Where is it? Was that voice going to haunt her dreams?
“What makes you think he was looking for something?”
“He broke in. Tossed things around in my father’s room. I thought...” She stopped talking. Should she tell Bear Den what her attacker had asked?
“Have there been any repercussions from your father’s involvement with Ovidio Sanchez?”
What a polite way to ask if her father assassinating the prime suspect in a mass slaying had affected them.
“Lisa has been having a hard time at school. Kids can be mean.”
“And you?”
“I had to switch to days because Dad isn’t here at night anymore.” And her daughter had lost the only father she’d ever known and Morgan didn’t understand why her father had done such a thing. It was like standing on the shore of a river only to discover that the water had undercut the bank. She and her daughter had tumbled and were still falling toward an uncertain future. Morgan knew that soon she would have to petition the tribe for assistance and the prospect shamed her. She didn’t say any of that aloud, however, and only just managed to mutter that it had been hard.
Bear Den’s brows dropped lower over his pale eyes. “I am asking if you have received any threats.”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Did you know what your father was planning?”
“The police at Darabee already asked me that. I was interviewed over there.”
“By Jefferson Rowe?”
“Who?”
“Police Chief Rowe?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. A detective. I don’t remember his name. He asked me if I knew beforehand, too. I didn’t.” And she felt stupid that she had noticed nothing unusual...and sad that her father had not confided in her and angry at what he had done. She glanced toward the door. “Have you seen a gray cat?”
“No.”
She tried calling Cookie from the back door but with the strangers about and the flashing lights, she didn’t expect to see the cat until things calmed down.
Her interruption did not distract the detective from his line of questioning.
“Did your father leave you anything? Instructions. A letter.”
“Like a suicide note?” Morgan was still hugging herself. The April air turned cold at night in the mountains so she moved to close the kitchen door. Ray Strong anticipated her actions and got there first. Her hand brushed his before she could draw back. The contact was quick so she could not understand why her insides tightened and her breath caught. The door clicked and she met Ray’s dark compelling eyes. One of his brows quirked.
Bear Den cleared his throat, snapping Morgan’s attention back to the detective’s question. Did she have foreknowledge of her father’s plan to commit murder?
“He didn’t say anything. The morning before the shooting he took his truck. He’s not supposed to drive anymore. I was sleeping when he left. I get home from work about eight a.m. and Dad usually gets Lisa up and I get her ready for school. Then I usually sleep from nine to about three. He wasn’t here when Lisa got off the bus but he was here before my shift. He wouldn’t tell me where he had gone. The next day he...” She hesitated, tugging at her ear. This topic still made her feel nauseous and baffled all at once. “He left and afterward they arrested him in Darabee. I was waiting for Lisa’s bus when tribal police and the FBI got here. They searched the house. They took some things. Maybe they found something like that.”
“They didn’t. Usually when someone is planning such a thing, they make preparations. Say goodbye.”
She thought back to the evening before when she saw him last. “He asked me to pick up a chocolate cake.”
Bear Den scowled. “Cake.”
“He wanted cake. Gave me the money.”
“What money?”
Now she scowled. “For the cake. I don’t buy that junk and he shouldn’t have it either. But I bought the cake and we had that after dinner on Thursday night for no reason.” She stared at the detective. “Was that it? The cake? Like some kind of going away party?”
Jack Bear Den shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Morgan stared at her kitchen tiles and tried to keep from crying.
“Ms. Hooke, my friend Ray spoke to the guy who broke into your house. The man indicated he was searching for money. He said your father cashed a bank check for two hundred thousand dollars in Darabee.”
She snorted at first, thinking he was kidding and then her jaw dropped open as she saw he was deadly serious.
“I have to report that to the FBI. So what I want to know from you is, did you know about this money?”
She couldn’t even speak, so she shook her head.
“Do you know where the money currently is?”
“No.” Her words were a whisper. “I don’t. You think he actually had that much money?”
Jack nodded. “I believe your father was accepting payment.”
“Payment? What could he possibly do that was worth that kind of...”
Morgan’s knees buckled and Bear Den caught her, drew out a chair and guided her into it. Her fanny hit with enough force to jar her gaze to the detective.
“This can’t be happening.”
Bear Den looked down the hall. “Ray? Can you come out?”
Her protector emerged from the hall. The front of his shirt was soaking wet and stuck to his chest, revealing the ripped muscles of his abdomen. Morgan’s breath caught at the perfection of his form.
“Why are you all wet?” she asked.
Bear Den followed the direction of her gaze. Ray shrugged. “Washed off the blood.”
The detective groaned and Morgan blinked, finally forcing her attention away, but took one more long look because a sight like that should be committed to memory.
Bear Den took a seat across from her and Ray retrieved the one between them, spun it and sat, his long legs straddling the back. Then he hugged the top and rested his chin on his hands. At least she couldn’t see the wet spot or his tight abs any longer.
Bear Den cleared his throat. “I was just relaying what the intruder told you.”
Ray’s gaze flicked from the detective to her. “You have some problems, Morgan.”
“What are you two implying exactly?”
Ray deferred to the detective.
> “It appears that your father cashed a check twenty-four hours prior to his attack on the prime suspect in the Lilac Copper Mine shooting.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ray tucked in his legs and lifted his chin from his hands. “Your father was a paid hitman. Now word is out about the payday, and that means you can expect more like that nitwit I found in your hallway.”
Morgan’s stomach heaved. She pressed a hand over her pounding heart.
“More.”
“More and more competent.”
“Competent?”
“Dangerous. The kind of men that don’t pull hair. And they won’t stop until you deliver that money.”
“What money? I don’t have it.”
“Well I suggest you find it fast. The trick will be to keep you safe in the meantime.”
She sat back in the chair. “How am I supposed to do that, exactly?”
“That’s where I come in.”
Morgan looked from Ray to Detective Bear Den.
“You need a bodyguard, Morgan. Someone tough, resourceful and capable of protecting you.”
Her gaze flicked back to Ray Strong.
“Ray has agreed to act as your bodyguard,” said Detective Bear Den.
He stood there watching her like a hungry wolf in his transparent T-shirt rippling with contained potency. He was just the sort of male to cause a woman all kinds of trouble.
“I can’t afford to put gas in my car,” Morgan said. “How am I going to pay for...” She let her traitorous eyes caress him and his mouth twitched. His eyes glittered as if he knew what she was thinking. “I couldn’t afford to even feed him let alone pay him.”
“You can’t afford not to,” said Bear Den.
Morgan regarded Ray Strong. The man was tough, powerful and had already shown himself capable of protecting her and Lisa. He also ignited in Morgan an unwelcome burst of lust coupled with a rational sense of fear. The man was dangerous and the threat he posed was more than physical.
She shook her head. “This is a bad idea.”
Bear Den spoke again, his voice deep and resonant. “Are you familiar with the Turquoise Guardians?”
