by Aimée Thurlo
She glanced over at Luca, then back at the road. Nothing about him was ordinary. He stood taller than most men in almost every way that mattered. He was exciting to be with…yet it was his stillness that drew her. Peace, the kind that seemed to be so much a part of him, was something she’d never known.
FORTY MINUTES LATER, they approached Holy Angels Cemetery. Locating the wooden rail fence that defined the grounds, Valerie drove down an old gravel lane leading off the highway and parked near the entrance.
As they left the car, they both heard a metallic clinking sound up ahead behind a stand of tall blue spruce. Since they were the only spruce trees within sight, it appeared that they’d been planted. Their height also suggested that it had been many years ago.
“It’s a hoe,” Luca said. “Someone’s planting something, or maybe weeding.”
All she’d heard was a chink, but then again she’d never weeded or planted anything in her life.
“There,” he said a moment later, and gestured ahead, beyond the trees.
A man in his midseventies, clad in coveralls and an old straw hat, was busy planting flowers in a sunny spot beside a gravestone.
Valerie identified herself as she approached him.
“I’m Ed Black,” he answered, taking off his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. “What brings you two up here?”
“Have you noticed anything unusual going on at this cemetery within the past few weeks?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, not really, but I’m not the caretaker, if that’s what you think. I just happen to be the only one who ever comes out here. This cemetery’s closed now, and no one takes care of the grounds—except me. I planted those trees back in ’84, the year after my wife Heather died. Now, I cut the weeds when I can and keep her grave tended.”
Valerie glanced around. Grass grew tall beside most of the graves. “It does seem pretty desolate out here.”
“People tend to want to forget all about the dead. They don’t like to be reminded that as we are, the person in the grave once was. And as those below the earth are now, we’ll someday be.”
Cheery thought, but accurate. “Have any of the graves here been disturbed in any way?” Valerie asked.
“Except for me trimming the grass a little and weeding around Heather’s grave, no, not at all. This rocky mountain soil is just too hard except in spring, when the snow all melts. The old coffins, too, were sturdier,” he said, brushing away a spiderweb from the side of the headstone.
Thanking the old man and leaving him to his work, they took a quick walk around the cemetery, but it was just as he’d said. Nothing appeared out of place.
“His wife died twenty-six years ago. I saw the date on the headstone. But even after all this time, he still comes here,” Valerie commented softly.
“Grief can take you to some very dark places,” Luca said after a long pause. “You can eventually work your way back, but you’re never the same afterward.”
Valerie started to ask him more, intrigued and wanting to know everything she could about him, but he shook his head. “It’s behind me,” he said in a tone that held nothing but finality.
As they reached the sedan, she glanced at the GPS mounted in her unit searching for the other cemetery she’d earmarked. It was east, farther down the mountain and close to one of the newer, developed communities with high-end homes. That area was undergoing a transformation and new roads were being added constantly. Making sure of the route, she began the drive.
“I sure hate to see older folks who appear to be all alone like that gentleman back at the cemetery. The only purpose his wife’s death served was to blast a hole through his heart.”
“On the face of things it might seem that way, but life needs its opposite—death. Together, they achieve balance.”
“Then that design needs some work,” Valerie muttered.
“We can’t change the pattern, but by recognizing and accepting it, we walk in beauty,” he said. “One of our creation stories explains the need for such things. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes, please.” The fact that he’d asked her first, honoring the possibility that her beliefs might not permit it, touched her deeply. That kind of respect—for himself and others—was very much a part of the man he was and why she was so drawn to him.
“When the Hero Twins of old defeated all the monsters that preyed on the earth, they thought their work was complete. But then they met four strangers—Cold, Hunger, Poverty and Death.” His rich voice wove a spell around her, bringing the ancient story alive in her mind’s eye.
“The Twins immediately decided to kill them, but Cold, who spoke first, told them that without him there’d be no more snow, or water in summer. So the Twins considered what he’d said and decided to let him live.”
She nodded slowly and, careful not to interrupt, waited for him to continue.
“Then the Twins faced Hunger, who said that if they killed him, people wouldn’t take pleasure in eating anymore, and eventually everyone would lose their appetites. The Twins realized then that they had to let him live, too.
“Poverty was a filthy old man in dirty clothing. He told them that, without him, people would stop wanting and making new clothes and everyone would look as dirty and ragged as he did. So the Twins also spared him.”
His voice mesmerized her. Scarcely breathing, she waited for him to finish.
“Then the Twins faced Death. She was a horrible creature, disgusting to look at. The Twins wanted to kill her immediately, and, to their surprise, she told them to go ahead. She didn’t care. But she warned them that without her, the older generation would stop yielding to the younger. Young men would stop dreaming dreams that made for better tomorrows. They wouldn’t marry, or have kids who’d someday take their place. She insisted that although it didn’t seem to be so, she was their friend.” He paused for a moment, then in a soft voice added, “And that’s why we still have death.”
“The Navajo Way is filled with such incredible beauty. It gives you a way to deal with the things that scare the pants off the rest of us,” she said softly. “Of course, we have our own way of coping. We just tell ourselves that we’re not really scared,” she added with a tiny smile.
“Some of us inside this car excel at that, I would imagine,” he teased, curving his mouth into one of his devastating smiles. “And since I don’t fit the bill, that leaves you.”
“Hey, I’m indestructible. I can outshoot and outfight almost any officer in the department—and when I’m scared, I fight all the harder,” she said as they headed down the road.
“So I’ve noticed,” he answered gently.
She glanced at him and knew instantly that he was talking about the attraction between them. She looked back at the road, not bothering to deny it.
Soon they reached the paved road and she turned onto the highway. As they headed down the narrow mountain road, he touched her arm lightly.
“Slow down,” he said. His voice was taut.
“I’m going the speed limit. Is something wrong?”
“The fetish…it shifted in the bag and it’s pushing against me.”
“Is that bad?” she asked quickly.
“It’s a warning.”
She let off the gas petal instantly. Whether or not she fully accepted his ways, one fact remained. His instincts had been right on target every time.
Preparing to slow down even more as they reached a curve, she touched the brakes. “Something’s not right. The brakes feel spongy—and the brake light just came on.”
Valerie pressed the brakes even harder but the car barely slowed, even when she pushed the brake pedal all the way down to the floor. “The brakes are completely gone! Hang on!”
Looking ahead, her stomach tightened. They’d never make that curve at their current speed. Valerie steered to the right, off the pavement and onto the narrow shoulder, hoping the gravel there would slow them down. The right front tire dropped over into the drainage ditch,
and she had to fight for control as the car shifted violently. There was an ear-shattering whack as the branch of a tree whipped against the windshield.
“You’re doing fine,” he said calmly. “Good strategy. You’ve slowed us down already.”
“I can’t turn off the ignition or I’ll lose steering. Let me try the parking brake.”
Valerie lifted the lever with her right hand, applying pressure. It cut their speed even more, but it wasn’t enough and it distracted her from keeping the car on track.
Edging over to the right, she eased the passenger-side tires off the road, bumping into debris that had slid down the mountainside. If they blew a tire that would bring them to semi-safe stop—if she could keep from losing complete control of the car.
“There’s a firebreak ahead, just before the curve. Get as much grab as you can from the hand brake, then go hard right and try to jump the ditch into the field. If we don’t roll, we’ll end up in the clearing between the lines of trees. The brush and the fact that it’s uphill will eventually bring us to a stop.”
“If the car doesn’t roll,” she repeated. Valerie edged to the right again. “I’m going to kiss the hillside one more time. Maybe that’ll help. It’ll scrape the hell out of your side of the car, so stay low in case the window breaks.”
“I’d rather see it coming,” he said, leaning toward the center to avoid the possibility of glass.
The screech of metal against rock and timber, like monster fingers on a chalkboard, sent chills up her spine. The car shook and shuddered like a wild carnival ride, but she kept her death grip on the wheel.
A hundred yards from the firebreak, Valerie applied the hand brake, then took hold of the wheel with both hands and swerved to the right. The tires squealed in protest at the sudden turn and for a heartbeat the passenger side lifted off the ground.
They flew over the low ditch, plowed through a clump of waist-high brush then bumped their heads on the inside roof as the wheels hit the ground again. They bounced and skidded another fifty yards uphill, then finally came to a stop in a tangle of scrub oaks. A cloud of dust passed over the car then quickly dissipated.
“You okay?” Valerie asked, still gripping the wheel. Her hands wouldn’t uncurl.
“Yeah. Nice driving,” he said, his voice calm as usual.
She took a deep steadying breath. With a shaky grin she asked, “Wanna do it again?”
Chapter Twelve
As they climbed out of the car, Luca was relieved to find that the cougar fetish had once again shifted in his pocket and had stopped pressing against him. He glanced over at Valerie and realized that despite her bravado, the ride had really shaken her up. She had her arms wrapped around herself, trying to stop trembling.
Without hesitation, he pulled her against him and held her, allowing her softness to melt into him. He’d intended to be tender, to simply hold her and comfort her, but needs slammed into him with surprising force. He took a slow, deep breath, struggling to keep himself in check.
“That was the wildest ride I’ve ever been on, but even though your heart’s pounding, you’re not even breathing hard,” Valerie said, nestling against him with a sigh.
“Other things make me breathe hard.”
As she laughed softly, he felt those vibrations touch every part of him. Valerie’s strength was matched by her wild spirit. Instinct assured him that in his arms her wildness would lead them both to a paradise neither would ever forget. That sure knowledge pounded through him, heating his blood, making him want her all the more.
Moments later she moved away and gave him a shaky smile. “Now that we’ve proven we’re both still alive,” she said with a soft sigh, “I’ve got to call this in.” She contacted the station with her cell phone as they walked back down toward the road.
Less than three minutes later they heard a car coming up the highway. “That’s a fast response—unless a cruiser was nearby.”
“Doesn’t sound like a police car to me,” Luca added, looking down the mountain.
A minute later an older model yellow sports car came around the curve and puffed up the road toward them. As the driver came to a halt they recognized him instantly.
“Browning,” Luca said.
“That pain in the butt must have been tailing us again. Or maybe monitoring police calls,” Valerie said.
“Hey, you guys get stuck or something?” Browning called out. Turning around quickly in the empty highway, he parked beside them, then climbed out of his vehicle. As he came toward them, he studied the skid marks and churned-up ground where they’d left the roadbed. “Whoa! You take a corner too fast and head off cross-country or something?”
“Or something,” Valerie replied.
“Did you pass any other cars on the road when you came up?” Luca asked him.
“There was a white van that whipped past me a few minutes ago, but that’s about it. So what happened to your car? You get run off the road? Have a blowout?” he pressed, looking uphill at the unmarked police unit.
“You never have a flat when you need one,” Valerie responded, unwilling to give the man anything to work with.
Browning looked at her curiously, then brought a digital camera out of his jacket pocket and took a photo of the car. He reached for his small notepad next, but the second he began to write his felt-tip pen started to drip. A blob of black ink came out onto the paper, making an instant mess.
Browning looked at his blackened fingers and cursed, then noticed the bottom of his shirt pocket was spotted with ink as well. “I’ve had nothing but crappy luck since I found that cursed stone in my pocket.”
“Perhaps you should back away from this case,” Luca advised, his face revealing nothing. “It’s for your own safety.”
“No way. This story’s going to get me back on the payroll. I’m not spending the rest of my life teaching,” he said. Then, looking from one to the other, he added, “Does this have anything to do with that graveyard you checked out a while ago?”
Luca shrugged.
“I bet those bones at the crime scene were human and you’re trying to find dug-up graves. Am I right?” Browning prodded.
“No comment. Thanks for stopping, your Good Samaritan obligation has been met for today. Let us walk you back to your car,” Valerie said coldly.
They went with him over to his parked car and saw the long, deep scratch that ran the entire length of the passenger side of his car.
“What happened to your ride?” Valerie asked him. “Did you piss off some witness?”
“Nah, some idiot kid keyed my car last night outside the health-food store, can you believe it? I’m telling you—crappy luck. That’s all I’ve been having.”
Luca held his palms face up and shrugged in a gesture that plainly said, “I told you so.”
“So, do you need a ride back to civilization?” Browning asked them.
Valerie shook her head. “No, we’re waiting for a deputy.”
“In that case, I’ll be on my way,” he said.
As he drove off, Luca walked back uphill toward their unit.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked, following him through the grassy meadow.
“I know a few things about cars. I want to take a look at the brake line and cylinders,” he said. “Brakes don’t go from good to bad that quickly—not very often, anyway.”
Luca disappeared under the car and a moment later called back to her. “It looks like one of the connections came loose and that resulted in a fatal loss of brake fluid—and stopping power. It was tampered with, I’m guessing, but this is beyond my expertise. The crime scene unit will have to work on this, and I’ll be willing to bet that they’ll need a mechanic looking over their shoulders, too.”
The sound of another vehicle diverted their attention toward the highway. A deputy was climbing out of an unmarked unit.
As they walked over to join him, another marked police cruiser arrived. “I was told to bring you this car,” the deputy said, tossi
ng Valerie the keys. “Someone will stay with your car until it can be towed. A team’s on its way, but dispatch didn’t think you needed the mobile van.”
“No, just some experts to check out the car before it’s hauled away. Thanks,” Valerie added, handing over the keys to her own vehicle. She then turned to Luca. “We’ve still got daylight. What do you say that we complete what we set out to do?”
“The cemetery?” he asked, following her to the car.
She nodded. “By the way, if you happen to sense danger again, just let me know,” she said with a shaky smile, starting the engine and pulling out into the road. “I won’t be so slow on the uptake next time.”
The uneasiness he could hear in her voice felt like a weight on his shoulders. “Is it difficult for you to accept things that don’t lend themselves to explanation?”
She considered it then nodded. “A bit. It’s a combination of private skepticism and police training. I’m more comfortable with hard facts.”
“Then rely on this—you can trust me. No matter what goes down, I’ll be right there with you. You’ll never have a better partner.”
“Or a more dangerous one,” she muttered.
Somehow, he managed to hear her. “Dangerous to others perhaps, but never to you.”
Even as he spoke, he could feel her responding to him. What was drawing them together was nature at its most basic…and more. No woman had ever gotten under his skin like this, making him ache and wish for things he had no business wanting. Not even his beautiful Merilyn had exercised so much power over him.
Silence stretched out between them for several long minutes before she spoke, bringing their focus back to the business at hand. “The place where we’re going next isn’t exactly an official cemetery. Basically it’s an area at the base of a hill where people have been buried for the last fifty years or so. That was well before the developers moved in.”
