by Aimée Thurlo
Glancing up at her, he met her gaze and there Valerie saw an inner stillness, a quiet confidence that added a whole new dimension to the strength and ability she’d already seen him display.
With effort, Valerie brought her thoughts back to the business at hand. Fantasies were for vacation and off-duty hours. “You knew the perp’s gun wasn’t real. That’s why you weren’t concerned about taking direct action. But how did you know that?”
“No oil or gunpowder scent,” he answered.
She blinked. In a terminal filled with fast food, perfumes and aftershaves, it would have taken a bloodhound to pick out oil or gunpowder residue. He had to be kidding.
“Do you have an evidence bag?” he asked, going over to where the weapon lay.
“Yeah, I’ve got several—just not handy,” she said, then, hoping she was right and this was her new partner, added, “I’m Valerie Jonas of the Sheriff’s Department. By any chance are you Detective Luca Nakai of the Tribal Police?”
“That’s me,” he answered. Though the terminal was loud and people were starting to gather, his low, sexy voice carried clearly.
Pen in hand, he bent down and retrieved the realistic-looking toy by the trigger guard. “This guy might need an EMT to check him out. He went down pretty hard.”
The robber moaned and, suddenly realizing he’d been cuffed, kicked out at Valerie.
She tried to dodge, but stumbled from the glancing blow to her calf and fell against Luca. He was built solid and the hard expanse of his chest was like iron and steel, but that warmth…
Luca steadied her, then moving away, caught no-neck scrambling to his feet and swept his legs out from under him with a well-placed boot.
The handcuffed man fell to a sitting position, then realizing he was outmatched said, “No more, I’ll stay still,” and scooted to put his back to the wall.
Two armed airport security officers joined them seconds later. Valerie turned the prisoner over to them, gave a quick rundown of the events then pointed out the initial victim, who’d kept his distance.
“We’re needed at a crime scene right now, guys, but here’s where you can reach me,” Valerie said, giving the closest man her card. Luca handed the toy gun to one of the officers.
A short time later, Luca walked downstairs with Valerie, heading to the terminal’s east end where the luggage carousels were located. On the way, he watched her as she used her cell phone to report the incident to a Captain Harris.
After a few minutes, the attractive detective closed up the cell phone and glanced at him. “Sorry about that. Right after I arrived at the Sunport to pick you up we got a call. Another body has been found apparently with the same M.O. as the first one. Deputies are on the scene now.”
He didn’t comment, waiting for her to fill in the rest when she was ready. Detective Jonas—Valerie—was beautiful…electric almost. Light auburn hair fell over her shoulders and her gray-green eyes sparkled with intelligence and purpose. He noted that there was no ring on her finger, nor was there the impression of one that had been recently removed.
As they walked down the terminal she answered two more calls. From the way she focused and shot questions at whoever was on the other end, he suspected he’d been paired with a woman on a mission, and maybe with something to prove. Not his type, despite her obvious intelligence and physical appeal.
Yet as he gazed at her, he was aware of an unexpected stirring in his blood, and recognized the familiar tug in his gut. He’d felt neither in a very long time, not since…
Valerie answered one more call, speaking quickly to whoever was on the other end.
With the rush of people, conversations going on all around him and the thud of luggage as it slid off the conveyer belts on the carousels they passed, the quiet of the reservation seemed like a distant memory. His new partner’s never-ending conversations grated on him as well. She was definitely not his type. Not that it mattered. He was here to do a job then return home—hopefully in one piece.
They stopped by the last luggage carousel, which had already stopped rotating. Only eight passengers had come in on the small craft so finding the right piece was easy.
Luca slid his hand around the handle of the canvas duffel bag he’d brought and, as he lifted it off the turntable, noticed the way she was looking at him. Awareness clawed at him. Cursing chemistry and hormones, a bad combination that could only lead to trouble, he clamped a lid on distractions.
“Did I forget to say thanks?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “You came up with some pretty good moves back there.”
“Thanks,” he answered simply, then followed her up the stairs and out of the terminal.
Soon they were on a wide sidewalk, a north-facing loading and unloading zone. He turned to the west and followed, coming up beside her.
“Not exactly the talkative type, are ya?” she asked after a brief silence. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll do enough for both of us, Partner.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get bored,” Valerie said as she led the way past the shuttle vans. “Not that there’s much of a chance of that, not on this case,” she added, growing somber as she got back to the business at hand. “The body found this morning was in the city, not county, but since the M.O. matches, it’s my case, too. The county crime scene unit is already there. City detectives will no doubt be there as well, standing by and looking over my shoulder every step of the way.”
“Do you happen to have the full report detailing the first crime scene?”
She nodded. “It’s on the seat of the car. You can study it on our way to the number two site.”
He didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?” she added.
“Of course.”
“Then grunt or something, will ya?”
He paused, then added by way of an explanation, “Conversation…There’s more of a demand for it out here in the city.”
They soon reached a white unmarked sedan with local government license plates. While she unlocked the door, he noted the folder on the passenger’s seat.
“How much do you know about the last killing?” she asked as they both got in.
“I was briefed by my captain. I know that the murder suggested a Native American connection—Navajo, to be specific.”
“Yeah. The cause of death was the result of stab wounds from a large knife. What made it—shall we say unusual?—was that the victim was also stabbed with a blade shaped from a human thighbone. The M.E. was able to narrow that down via fragments recovered from the wounds. Pieces broke off when the bone blade hit the victim’s ribs. There was a lot of weird symbolism at the scene, too. You can see that in the photos.”
He nodded, studying the folder’s contents.
“My first thought was that it was some sort of Satanic or Goth ritual, but one of our officers insisted that it was connected to Navajo witchcraft. He said that the powder we found scattered on the body, what he called corpse poison, was a trademark of skinwalkers. The M.E. confirmed later that it contained human tissue. We also found coyote hairs on the victim’s skin and clothing. Locks of her hair had been cut off, probably with the murder weapon. One last thing—interesting, not to mention weird—the tips of both index fingers, actually the entire joints, were cut from the body. They weren’t at the scene, so the perp must have taken them with him.”
He nodded, understanding more than he was willing to talk about yet. “Was vic number two mutilated in the same way?”
Valerie nodded. “That’s what I was told, but we’ll be able to see for ourselves soon enough.”
As he studied the crime-scene photos, Luca recognized the symbol of the Brotherhood of Warriors that had been made from ashes and left next to the body.
“If the perp’s intent had been to slow down identification of the victim, he would have taken all the fingertips,” she said. “So the whole thing is just plain weird.”
“Was either victim Navajo
or part Navajo?”
“The first one’s name is Ernestine Ramirez and she’s Hispanic. The latest victim is a twenty-year-old woman named Lea Begay.”
“The most recent victim has a Navajo name,” he said. “But from now on, vic one and two will suffice.”
Valerie winced. “Sorry. I was told not to use the names of the victims around you, but I forgot. It has something to do with the evil side of a person that sticks around ’cause they can’t enter Heaven, right?”
“Not quite right, but you’ve got the idea,” he answered. “What else struck you about the first scene? Does anything in particular stay in your mind?”
“There was a small arrow with a bead at the end. It had been shot or jabbed into the victim. It was less than six inches long, doll-sized. I asked, but was told you’d explain that part.”
“Arrows like those are shot from a small ceremonial bow made from a human shinbone,” he answered.
“Here’s something else I’d like to know,” she said after a thoughtful pause. “Why were you, in particular, sent to help us with this case?”
“I’m a police detective, and more important, the son of a respected medicine man.” Luca lowered his voice before uttering the next phrase. “Skinwalkers are my father’s natural enemies—and mine.”
“Are you a medicine man, too?” Valerie asked in a whisper, not really understanding his need for secrecy but mirroring his tone nevertheless.
He shook his head. “I trained for it but in the end I chose police work.”
“The job gets in your blood, doesn’t it?” Her voice was still soft. “It starts as something you do and ends up being part of everything you are.”
Her observation said a great deal about her. Valerie was turning out to be an interestingly complex woman as well as beautiful.
“To catch a killer I need to put myself in his head—to see things as he does,” she continued. “I hope you can help me do that. I need to start thinking like a skinwalker.”
He touched the special medicine pouch he wore looped through his belt. “Don’t use that word so freely,” he said at last.
“Because I might call evil to us, like when I use the names of the victims?”
He nodded and said, “It’s even more so with the evil ones. The spoken word has a great deal of power.” He glanced down at the file. “I’m going to need a few more moments to study this file.”
“No problem. We’re still about ten minutes from the second site. It’s past the university, near Central Avenue.”
As silence stretched out between them in the car, she kept her eyes on traffic but her focus was on him. There was something magnetic about Luca Nakai—an intensity that wove its way around her and sparked her imagination. Police officer…medicine man…He was a man of many layers and something told her that beneath that imperturbable calm was a man worth getting to know much better.
Chapter Two
They were still underway and despite their silence, or maybe because of it, her attention had remained riveted on the man sitting next to her.
“You have questions about me,” Luca said, still looking down at the contents of the folder.
She almost choked. Maybe he should have added mind reader to his list of qualifications. Recovering quickly, she glanced at him casually.
“You have questions about me, too, I would imagine,” she said, turning it around on him. “You’re a guest of our department, so why don’t you take your shot first, then I’ll take mine.”
“You know why I’m on this case. Why were you chosen?” he asked without hesitation.
“Fair question,” she said with a nod. “I was chosen because I’ve been given special training to deal with violent crimes against women. I’ve only been working homicide for six months, but I’ve closed all the cases I’ve worked on so far.” Her car radio came on and she answered.
“Our ETA’s less than five minutes,” she responded to the caller, then, racking the microphone, glanced over at him and continued. “One big problem with this case is that we already have reporters breathing down our necks. Information about the killer’s unusual signature reached the media and that’s made this a hot story. The public’s pushing for quick answers.”
“Uncovering hidden truths often takes time. Accuracy and speed are enemies,” he said, expelling his breath in a soft hiss.
“These days stories unfold quickly,” Valerie answered with a shrug. “Internet and television are always in competition to see who breaks the story first.”
“That’s their problem. It shouldn’t become ours. Life isn’t a television quiz show.”
“Off the record?” She glanced at him, saw him nod, then continued. “The problem becomes ours when the sheriff is running for reelection.”
He nodded once. “I hear you. Any suspects yet?”
“No, not even a good lead. But I’ll find answers. Count on it.”
It was her tone that revealed more than her words. “You have something to prove on this case,” he observed.
Valerie swallowed back her annoyance. If it had been anyone else, she would have told him to stuff it. Yet there’d been no censure or disapproval in Luca’s tone. He’d simply stated his opinion. Knowing that he had to get to know her—after all, their lives might depend on each other—she decided to cut him some slack.
“I’ve had to work very hard to establish myself in my department,” she answered after a brief pause. “When I first signed up, the deputy at the desk tried to talk me out of it. I’m smaller and lighter than most of the other officers. From day one, all I kept hearing was that I’d be a liability, and that I’d cost another officer his or her life someday.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
“During training, I was forced to fight twice as hard as any other recruit. Nobody thought I’d make it, even when my physical training scores were better than some,” she said. “Since those days, I’ve worked my way up the ranks to detective, but it hasn’t been easy. A lot of people back from my rookie days would still like to see me fail, just so I’d prove them right.”
“Why was becoming an officer so important to you?”
“Because I know I can make a difference in my job,” she said in a firm voice. “My methods may be different than some of the textbook procedures, but I can get results.”
“Different how?” he asked.
“Let me give you an example. Last week at the downtown office, a suspect slipped off his handcuffs at the booking desk and jumped the arresting deputy. He knocked the officer to the floor and grabbed his weapon. I was coming around the corner just then and, not seeing my weapon beneath my jacket, he motioned me over. I think he wanted a helpless woman hostage. I went over to him as meekly as possible. Then before he could see it coming, I grabbed the weapon and kneed him in the groin,” she said. “I used the fact that I’m not threatening—the very thing they said was my biggest liability—to do what had to be done.”
Luca gave her a huge, devastatingly masculine grin. “Way to go.”
As she looked into his eyes and saw the approval and admiration there, her heart began to hammer. Telling herself it was low blood sugar, Valerie focused. “In this game it’s all about winning, and you do that when you put the bad guys away.”
“Winning…I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. To me, it’s more about restoring harmony—for others and within yourself.”
“Inner peace? That sounds very ’60s,” she said with a hesitant smile, then added, “I’m not sure that kind of thing really applies to police work.”
“It does. Try keeping your sanity after years of busting bad guys without it.”
She kept her eyes on the road as she thought about what he’d said. Luca sure wasn’t like anyone else she’d ever met. There was a quiet dignity about him and a strength that didn’t rely on machismo to back it up.
“Okay, we’re here,” Valerie said at long last, driving down a shabby-looking neighborhood just south of Central Avenue. The street ha
d been cordoned off at both ends of the block by APD police barriers. As Valerie held up her badge a city officer in his dark blue uniform motioned them through.
Valerie parked beside another Sheriff’s Department vehicle just outside the yellow tape that defined the crime scene. The perimeter included an unoccupied-looking, flat-roofed house and a section of the alley.
It was midmorning and there were two television cameras and at least a hundred curious onlookers lining the outside of the tape. As she climbed out of the vehicle, Valerie glanced over at Luca. He was clipping his service pistol to the right side of his belt, next to his badge and a small leather pouch. Coming around the front of the car a few seconds later, he fell into step beside her as they walked toward the crime scene.
“Crazies can be real proud of their handiwork, and sometimes stick around to see us work the scene. Keep a sharp eye out for anyone who fits the profile,” she said.
“Don’t concentrate too much on profiles just yet. Keep an open mind,” he said, then in a whisper-thin voice added, “Patience.”
It was the way he’d said that word that teased her imagination, making her think of steamy summer nights someplace far away and exotic…. She shook her head, banishing the thought as quickly as it had come.
“Detective Jonas,” a tall, ruddy-faced officer called out as he jogged up to meet them. “The body’s through that alley at the other end, inside a private property and not visible from the outside of the yard unless you look over the wall,” he said. Then, lowering his voice, he added, “the entire hood is pretty restless at the moment, so watch yourself in case a relative or friend of the victim shows up. Things could explode in a hurry.”
She knew this type of neighborhood well. The residents were mostly Hispanic and Native American—people who often believed that you were either one of them or an outsider. It wouldn’t make their investigation easy.
“A deputy is tracking down her family, right?”
The officer nodded. “Her residence is in the North Valley, and an officer is en route. She apparently lives with her parents.”
