Ladies Love Lawmen: When It's A Matter of The Heart or Death...
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“Who saw Martin in the area?”
Surprise flitted across Patty’s face. “I don’t know.”
“I think if we find that out they might lead us to Martin.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Castaña asked. “Just march into the police station and ask?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jake took a deep breath. This was it. He couldn’t lie to Castaña any longer. She might never forgive him, but he had been sent here to do a job and he had to finish. No matter how much he hated it. Meeting Castaña’s eyes he said, “I can.”
“They won’t tell you anything,” Castaña protested. “I tried to file a missing person’s report and the cops basically laughed me out of the building.”
“They’ll tell me.” He had all three of the women’s undivided attention. But it was Castaña he looked at. “I’m FBI. Based out of Phoenix.”
She stood and clutched the table for support. Her voice went whisper quiet. “Why are you here, Jake? It is Jake?”
“Jake Breton. I’m here to bring in Martin for questioning.”
Someone could have dropped a hawk feather and they would have heard it land in the silence.
“You bastard.” Her eyes glistened, but no tears fell. “You double dealing bastard.”
He deserved her wrath and more. “I did what was expected of me.”
“Which was what? Lie and cheat?” Her tears disappeared. “Trick me? By any means necessary?”
He knew she was talking about their lovemaking, but wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Eagle and Patty. “No. That’s not true.”
She laughed harshly. “Boy, am I dumb. All the questions. Wanting to stay in my home. No wonder you wanted to find Martin. But not because he might be hurt or sick, laying out in the forest somewhere without help. No, it’s because you believe he killed someone.”
Jake couldn’t deny it. “If I could just talk to him, maybe I could clear him.”
“Like you’d give him the chance. You have him tried and convicted already. He doesn’t stand a chance. No wonder he took off.”
“I’ll give him a fair shot,” Jake said. “You have to trust me.”
She laughed again. “Not going to happen. Just leave.”
“Not until I find Martin.” He planted his feet for emphasis.
She whirled for the door, but Eagle grabbed her elbow. “Honey, wait.”
Castaña paused and the older woman gestured to a chair. “Now that the truth is out, let’s hear what Jake has to say. Maybe he can shed some light on this whole thing. Even if Martin is brought in for questioning, he’ll be all right. He’s been arrested before and he’s always gotten out of it. But my gut is telling me this is different.”
Castaña gave her head a small jerk and flopped in the nearest chair. Then she glared at him. “So talk. What else do you know that we don’t?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “For starters, I don’t think Briar Rose is Martin’s girlfriend. She’s a runaway from California whose real name is Rose Davidson. Somehow, she landed in a cult called the Family of the Sun based near Phoenix. She told me she met Martin at the roundup last year, but I don’t buy it. Too many people believe Martin was involved with Nascha Nizhoni.”
“Like who?” Castaña folded her arms over her chest, but she was listening.
“Eagle, Patty and Nascha herself. That many people can’t be wrong.”
“Then what is that girl doing in my brother’s house, acting like she’s just given birth to my niece? How would she know so much about Martin? And why would she lie?”
“I don’t know,” Jake admitted. “There’s more I don’t know. When I went to Phoenix, I found out the man who was run over was named Axell Tsosie. He and a woman named Caroline Delacourte co-owned an art gallery. There were a lot of paintings of Nascha displayed. Several of them were nudes, suggesting, at least to me, that they were pretty good friends. Maybe more. Nascha might have been the one who was involved with someone else, not Martin.”
“Or maybe Nascha was only a model,” Castaña muttered.
“That’s possible, too. But it seems a little too pat that Martin is missing, Axell Tsosie is dead, and Nascha Nizhoni is the link between them. However, Nascha and Axell met at Diné College, so that might be all their relationship amounted to. I need to talk to her again.”
“I don’t believe that,” Eagle said. “I know Nascha, and she was crazy about Martin.”
“How did he feel about her?” Jake asked. “Did he feel the same?”
“I believe he did,” Eagle said. “Although he wasn’t demonstrative.”
“I agree.” Patty changed the subject. “Jake, you said you could find out who reported seeing Martin near the site where the BLM men were killed. Can you do that now? If we knew that it might give us a clue as where to hunt for Martin.”
He nodded and reached for his cell phone. When Kelso picked up Jake asked, “Can you tell me who ID Martin Castillo the day of the murder?”
“Let’s see . . . Two men. A Sean Donovan and Tabor Hinkson. They said they were in the area and saw him about a mile away from where the bodies were found.”
Jake’s heart began to pound. “Describe them.”
After Kelso gave the descriptions of the two men Jake thanked him and hung up and repeated the names and descriptions to the women. “Mean anything to you?”
“Yes,” Patty said. “Those are the meat buyers I was telling you about.”
Castaña voiced the obvious question. “What the hell were two horse killers and my brother doing out in the wilderness at the same time?” She turned to Patty. “Do you have any idea?”
“No.” Patty looked puzzled. “Not a clue.”
“I say when we find these two men we’ll have some answers.” Jake redialed Kelso. “Pick up Donovan and Hinkson for questioning. I have no idea where they’re at. Let me know when you bring them in, okay? Thanks.” He flipped the phone off and stuffed it in his pocket. A cold fury built in his gut as he thought about the men who may have gunned down the BLM agents.
~*~
“Sounds like you have a lot to look into.” Castaña stood and moved toward the door. “But nothing’s changed for me. I still don’t know where my brother is and I’m going to find him.”
“Not without me,” Eagle said.
“Or me,” Patty chimed in. “Where do we begin?”
“If Donovan and Hinkson are telling the truth, they said they spotted Martin near the murder site. Let’s each take a trail leading out of the falls. Maybe we’ll find something that way. We’re burning daylight. Are you ready?” Without waiting for an answer Castaña headed for her truck and trailer.
“Castaña, wait,” Jake called after her.
Ignoring his call, she hurried toward the truck.
“Castaña, wait,” he called again and she walked faster. He caught up to her and grabbed her elbow, spinning her around into his solid chest. “I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” she said. “Let go of me.”
He dropped her arm. “Just listen for a minute.”
“To what? More lies?” she hissed.
“I deserve that.”
The truth of his statement apparently caught her off guard, and she stared at him for a long minute. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning?”
“Would you have told me anything? Or let me stay at your house?”
“No,” she admitted.
“I don’t think Martin killed those men.”
She laughed. “Sure you don’t. You must think I’m a total idiot. What’s next? Are you going to sacrifice yourself and jump in my bed, hoping I’ll blurt out some secret location in pillow talk? Not going to happen. So just go back to Phoenix and tell them you can’t find Martin Castillo because I’m not going to lead you to him.”
“Listen to me. I made love to you because—”
“You thought you’d gain my trust and I’d spill Martin�
�s whereabouts to you,” she interrupted bitterly.
“I had to do a job, but it doesn’t affect the way I feel about you.” His eyes burned into hers.
“That’s too bad,” she said coldly. “Because it affects the way I feel about you.”
“I’m going with you,” Jake declared as Castaña turned away and began to unsaddle Rojo. Castaña shook her head and reached for the horse’s bridle. “No. You are not.”
“Listen to me.” He took the bridle reins from her stiff fingers. “I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you, but I want to clear your brother. The more this story unravels the more convinced I am he isn’t the guilty party. But I need to talk to him.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you why?”
“Because I’m telling you the truth,” he said simply.
She snorted. “Suit yourself then.” Without waiting for his reply, she moved to Gato and tightened his cinch. She swung up on the gelding and headed him out of the barnyard without looking back.
~*~
Patty and Eagle waited until he retied his cinch and mounted. Seeing he was set, they all loped to catch up with Castaña. In silence, they rode single file down the fence bordering Eagle’s field. The trailhead came up quickly and Castaña reined in and turned Gato around.
“Like I said earlier let’s all take a trail leading to Angel Falls. Eagle, take the west fork. Patty, you go to the East. I’ll circle around and come in from the back.” She glanced at her watch. “Give me about two hours to get there.”
Castaña hadn’t given Jake a direction. “I’ll go with you,” he said.
“See you later. Be careful,” she told the other women.
“Wait.” Patty rummaged around in her saddlebags until she found six flares. She handed two to each woman and kept two for herself. “We might need these. Shoot one off if anything shows up.”
“Thanks.” Castaña stuffed hers in her saddlebags, then lifted a hand and turned away.
Jake fell in behind her, but nothing but the creak of saddle leather, an occasional jangle of a bit and the horses’ soft hoofbeats filled the silence. The towering pines shaded the trail, throwing soft dapples on the ground.
“I think we’re close to where I found Lacey and Heather,” Jake said.
For a minute, he didn’t think Castaña was going to respond, and then she turned around. “Are you sure?”
“I think so. Is there a creek nearby with a shallow pool and a nice flat spot above it for camping?”
“That could describe a lot of places around here, but I think I know where you mean.” Gato stirred restlessly and she lifted her reins in a graceful gesture. Just another thing Jake liked about her. Unfortunately, she hated him now.
“I think we should,” he said. “Even if those girls aren’t still there they may have left something lying around that would help.”
“Okay.” She turned the dun gelding away.
“How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
“Forever.”
“That’s a long time,” he shot back.
Her voice drifted back to him. “Not nearly long enough.”
She wasn’t going to make it easy, but he was determined to make things right between them. But, how? He figured looking at the murders from another angle might do it. At this point, Jake didn’t believe Martin killed the BLM agents. What had he hoped to gain by doing such a terrible thing? Surely he didn’t think he could commit murder and not be caught. In all his run-ins with the law, Martin had been careful, not careless. He was too cagey to just gun down two men in cold blood. He had to know he would be the first suspect.
He also had to know gunning down those men wouldn’t stop the wild horses from being removed from the forest. The complete elimination of the mustangs from the Apache-Sitgreave might’ve pushed him over the edge though. Maybe he did shoot those men then took off for parts unknown.
Jake wasn’t any closer to an answer than the day he’d shown up in Castaña’s path.
So deep in thought that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings he started when Rojo came to an abrupt halt.
“Is this the place you were talking about?” Castaña motioned across an open field. A flattened smooth spot for a tent was now empty. A fire ring stood cold and barren. But he recognized the campsite.
“Yeah, this is it.”
Together they rode across the meadow and dismounted. Dropping the reins so the geldings could graze, they walked to the abandoned camp. Castaña knelt and touched a charred piece of wood. “Cold. It’s been out for some time.” Obviously experienced campers, the girls hadn’t left behind trash or any other type of evidence they’d been there. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a while.”
“No, but there might be something left behind that might help.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but let’s take a look.” Jake began to walk in a small circle looking at the ground. Following his lead, Castaña walked the opposite direction. Making ever–widening circles, they searched the area where the girls had pitched their tent.
“See anything?”
Jake sighed in frustration. “No. You?”
“No.”
“Keep looking.” His skin prickled in that funny way that told him something was off. Before Linda Navarone made a fool out of him, his instincts had never let him down. “How far is it from Angel Falls from here?”
Castaña stopped and looked back the way they’d come. “Around a mile, I guess. Why?”
“Just wondered.”
She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. It’s just a hunch.”
“About what?”
He didn’t want to tell her. But if he was ever going to gain her trust back he had no choice. “I think the killer was here.”
“What? Why?” She looked around as if he might still be lurking behind the trees.
“I said it was just a hunch.” How could he make her understand when he wasn’t certain himself? But his intuition that something was wrong had grown much stronger. The hair on the back of his neck had suddenly stood straight up and his skin had definitely begun to feel too tight.
“What’s wrong?” A note of alarm rang in her voice. Her eyes were wide and frightened. “I don’t know.”
“The horses aren’t worried. They’d let me know if they were.” He followed her line of sight to where the geldings grazed side-by-side, their ears and tails flicking occasionally. They seemed perfectly content. But when a cloud crossed the sun, Jake’s skin crawled.
Her chin quivered. “Jake? You’re scaring me.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He took a couple of quick steps and circled her in his arms. For a moment, she tensed, then relaxed and let him hold her. She shook like a field of grass in a windstorm. Pulling her close, he brushed his lips over her fruit scented hair. It might have been only minutes, but she gradually calmed down. Reluctantly, he released her when she pulled away. “I’m okay.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“So we should keep looking.” She took a few steps away and froze. “Jake.”
“Yeah?”
“Jake. Come here. Now.”
Something in her voice alerted him and he hurried to her side. He didn’t see anything out of place. “What is it?”
She stood with her nose lifted like a bloodhound on the scent. “Do you smell that?”
At first, he didn’t smell anything but grass and trees and leather and the woman next to him. But as the wind changed the unmistakable sticky sweet odor of death nearly overpowered him.
“It could be an elk.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Stay here and I’ll look.”
Even before he took the first step, Jake suspected what he would find.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Castaña started toward the trees, but Jake swung around and caught her. “Stay here.”
“No. If that’s a body .
. . my brother . . . I want to know.” She struggled to get free from his iron grip. But the more she squirmed, the tighter he squeezed until she gave up and ceased moving.
“You don’t want to see him if it is Martin.” Jake loosened his hold. “We don’t know for sure what’s over there.”
“I have to know.” She hated the fear in her voice.
“I know, but let me go first.” He released her. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. She fell in behind him and tried not to let her worst fears overtake her. In spite of her determination, her whole body shook so hard she could hardly stumble across the uneven ground. As they walked the scent of something dead grew overwhelming. The sweet-sour smell made her stomach clench.
They entered the trees, and Castaña blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the dim light. Jake stood slightly ahead and to her right. Once her pupils adapted, she looked around in a slow perusal of the forest. Although she didn’t see anything, her nose told her that the dead thing was to her right. She turned that way.
At first, she saw nothing but pine needles, downed timber, and shadows. But as her brain cleared, she realized she was looking at a pair of boots . . . attached to a body. A man’s body with wide shoulders and slim hips. Lying face down, covered with leaves and pine needles. But the red and black flannel shirt, the jeans and the heavy work boots all came into startling Panavision focus. From where she stood, she couldn’t see the head, but she didn’t have to. She’d recognize her brother anywhere. She took one step. “Martin.”
“Castaña, don’t.” Jake’s tone was sharp. “Don’t go over there.”
She heard a whimper and realized it was her own. “Martin.”
Jake was holding her, stroking her hair and her back.
Her body trembled violently. But she didn’t—couldn’t—cry. Her tears seemed to be locked down deep, somewhere far away. Where they’d dried up like rain in the desert. Her throat burned with acid and she wanted to throw up. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do that either. All she could do was stay locked helplessly in Jake’s arms.