Soldier's Promise

by Cindi Myers

  “He’s not supposed to let Werner see him,” she said. “Maybe he was doing a really good job.”

  “I would have spotted him,” Jake said. He pressed down on the accelerator, speeding up.

  Carmen grabbed hold of the dash as they bounced over the rough road. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “We have to go to Werner’s motel,” he said. “Tony had a room there. We have to make sure he’s all right.”

  * * *

  SOPHIE KICKED AT the dirt outside the trailer. As soon as Jake and Carmen left, Sarah had sent her away. “Go play now,” she said, shooing her toward the door. “Your mother needs to rest.” As if Sophie was some little kid and couldn’t help take care of her own mother.

  Her mom looked bad. At least she wasn’t out of her head, the way she had been when she first woke up after her fainting spell. At least Jake had been able to talk her into seeing a doctor. She sure hoped there was some medicine that could make her better. Sophie had never minded much not having her father around, but what would she do without her mother?

  And, of course, doctors didn’t work for free. They’d need money to pay for the treatments and medicine her mother might need. Maybe the Prophet would pay for them. He always talked about how they were a Family, and families shared everything and took care of each other. But sharing a pot of beans was a lot different from sharing medical bills. Her mother had signed over everything to him when they had joined the Family, but it wasn’t like it had been a lot—an old car that wasn’t even around anymore and the trailer they lived in. Her mother had never held a steady job, and they had never had any money. That hadn’t mattered so much most of the time. She and Sophie had lived with Grandma and Grandpa, and then here with the Prophet. But medical bills were different. They could be hundreds, thousands of dollars, maybe even more. The Prophet might not want to pay that much.

  She wandered away from the trailer, toward the center of camp. Times like this she missed having someone her own age around. When Jake talked of her going to school and having friends, it sounded fun. Back when she had lived with her grandparents, she had liked school, and she had been starting to make friends when her mother decided they should move. She imagined it would be like in books she had read—she would have two or three best friends, or even just one—and they would have sleepovers and stuff like that. It made a little ache around her heart when she thought about it, so most of the time she tried to put the idea out of her mind.

  “Hey, Sophie! Come here a minute!”

  She looked around and saw Starfall beckoning her from outside her tent. Sophie started toward her. She didn’t really like Starfall all that much—she was too bossy and even mean sometimes. But her little boy, Hunter, was so sweet, and he liked Sophie a lot. He always smiled and held out his arms to her when she was near. Maybe Starfall wanted Sophie to watch him while she went off with her friends or some guy. Sophie usually didn’t mind babysitting—it was something to do, after all. But this time, maybe she’d ask if Starfall could pay her. She needed to start earning money in case her mom needed it.

  But Hunter wasn’t with Starfall, who sat in a folding chair outside her tent, one foot propped up on the edge of the chair while she painted the toenails a bright pink. “What are you up to?” Starfall asked when Sophie stopped in front of her.

  Sophie shrugged. “Not much. Do you need me to watch Hunter?”

  “Not now. He’s napping.” She capped the bottle of polish and fanned her hand over her toenails. “Do you remember that cactus you found for me the other day? The day we were picking berries?”

  “You mean the day the guy shot at us?”

  Starfall frowned. “Well, yeah, that too.”

  Sophie wanted to laugh. How could anybody think cactus were more memorable than being shot at? But that was Starfall—she was going to make money off cactus, so that was what was most important to her. “Yeah, I remember,” she said.

  “Your brother said he saw more of them by where he was camped. Do you think you could find them for me?”

  Interesting that Jake had been talking to Starfall. But maybe it was the other way around. Starfall liked to flirt with men. Maybe she had been flirting with Jake. But Jake was interested in Carmen—anybody could see that. Just another example of Starfall being clueless. “I don’t know where he was camped,” Sophie said.

  “I do.” Starfall lowered her foot to the ground and extended both legs to admire her freshly painted toes. “We can walk over there in the morning, and I’ll show you.”

  “What will you give me if I find the cactus for you?” Sophie asked.

  “Why should I give you anything?” Starfall asked.

  “Didn’t you say some guy is paying you for the cactus? If I’m doing the work, I should get part of the money.”

  Starfall narrowed her eyes, but she must have seen that Sophie wasn’t going to back down. “I’ll give you five dollars,” she said.

  “I want ten.”

  “No way,” Starfall said. “That’s half of what I make. And I’m a lot older than you are.”

  “But I’m the one who’ll be doing all the work—finding and digging,” Sophie said. “Besides, with me along, you’ll find more cactus. Maybe twice as much.”

  Starfall had to know this was true. By herself, she wasn’t patient enough to crawl around in the hot sun and really look at the plants on the ground. She would much rather have Sophie do everything for her. The older woman looked sullen but nodded. “Okay. But you don’t get the money until after Werner pays me.”

  Sophie would rather have had the money up front. She didn’t trust Starfall not to “forget” to pay her. But if that happened, she would ask Jake to get the money for her. She doubted very many people would say no to her brother when he was angry. Mama always scolded Jake for having a bad temper, but maybe sometimes it was a good thing. “All right,” she said.

  “Good. Meet me back here after breakfast,” Starfall said. “Bring something to dig with and a sack to put everything in.”

  Sophie could have argued that if she was going to do all the work, she shouldn’t have to provide the tools, too, but since she was getting ten dollars, she kept quiet. “All right. I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned away, not letting Starfall see how happy she was. She would find as many cactus as she could tomorrow. Ten—maybe even twenty. That would be a couple hundred dollars to help pay her mom’s doctor bills. Jake would be so impressed. He wouldn’t treat her like a baby who couldn’t be counted on to help out when it really mattered.

  * * *

  JAKE BROKE EVERY speed limit on the way to the motel where Werner and Tony were staying—the motel where Jake had also stayed in order to shadow Werner until Tony had taken over that job. He circled around to the back of the motel and cruised past the room where Werner was staying—151. Tony would be in Jake’s old room, 153, right next door. “That’s Werner’s rental,” he said, indicating the red Jeep parked in front of 151.

  “Do you see Tony’s car?” Carmen asked.

  “I don’t know what he’s driving. But he wouldn’t have it parked in front of his room, anyway. He wouldn’t want Werner to see it and recognize it, if he had to follow the suspect later.” He parked his truck facing a fence across from the two rooms and shut off the engine, then sat, his hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the image of the two motel-room doors in his rearview mirror.

  “What now?” Carmen asked.

  “I can’t risk Werner seeing me and wondering what I’m doing here,” he said. “Maybe you should go knock on Tony’s door, see if he’s in.”

  “Werner has seen me.”

  “But not for long.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a Houston Astros ball cap. “Stuff your hair under this, and keep your sunglasses on. Slouch or shuffle or something to change your gait. Approach the room from the side, so Werner can’t get a good loo
k at you out the window.”

  She took the cap. “What do I do if Tony answers? How will I even recognize him?”

  “He’s shorter than me and stockier. Balding. Crooked nose where it was broken a long time ago. Tell him you’re with me, and ask him to meet us somewhere near here in half an hour.”

  “All right.” She gathered her long, black hair at the nape of her neck and twisted it into a coil, then covered the coil with the cap. This exposed her neck, and he fought the urge to lean over and kiss that long, smooth column. She put her hand on the door to open it, and he reached out and squeezed her arm.

  “Be careful,” he said. “If you see anything out of line, get out of there ASAP.”

  “I know the drill,” she said. “I’ve been a cop a while now.”

  “Right.” He let go of her. He forgot sometimes that she had more experience than he did.

  He kept her in view as she moved behind the line of parked cars, then crossed the parking lot and walked toward Tony’s room, approaching it from the direction opposite Werner’s door. She pulled the hat lower over her eyes, then knocked on the door of 153. She waited a long minute. Jake gripped the steering wheel, counting off the seconds. If Werner was in his room—and the presence of his Jeep indicated he was—why wasn’t Tony answering his door?

  Carmen lifted her hand to knock again, and at that moment the door to the room swung inward. A man ran out, knocking Carmen back onto the sidewalk. She struggled with him as Jake bailed out of the truck, reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

  The man, a bulky build whose face was turned away from Jake, hauled back and punched Carmen in the face. Jake felt the punch in his own gut and raised his gun. “Stop! Police!” he shouted.

  Carmen’s assailant didn’t even look his way. He jumped up and ducked behind the nearest car, then took off running. Jake pursued, his feet pounding the asphalt lot, but the man was too far ahead of him. He didn’t see his quarry get into a vehicle, but the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires announced his getaway as he sped out of the motel lot and into traffic on the highway.

  Jake stared after the fleeing vehicle—a dark SUV with heavily tinted windows. Mud on the license plate made it impossible to read. By the time he reached his truck to chase him, the man would be long gone. He turned and jogged back toward Carmen, picking up speed when he saw her still lying on the concrete. His heart battered his ribs as he threw himself down beside her. “Carmen, are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Did you get the linebacker who ran over me?” she asked.

  He laughed—a sick sound full of relief and agony. “He got away,” he said. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “He just knocked the wind out of me.” She tugged on his hand and pulled herself into a sitting position. She touched the corner of her eye, which was already swelling and darkening where the assailant had hit her, and she winced. “I think it was Werner’s friend—the Russian. The description fit, anyway.”

  Jake looked back at 153. The door stood open, the interior of the room in deep shadow. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” he said.

  “He was in a hurry to get out of there.” Carmen tried to stand and swayed a little.

  Jake jumped up and held onto her. “You should sit down.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She swatted him away. “We’d better call for backup.”

  “You call.” He made sure she was braced against the side of the building and released her. “I’m going to check inside.” He wasn’t going to stand around waiting when Tony might be still alive and hurt, needing help right away.

  She pulled out her phone. “All right. But be careful.”

  The same words he had used with her. Words cops said to each other all the time, overstating the obvious. They were always careful—but not too careful. Part of the job was taking risks most sensible people wouldn’t take.

  Avoiding touching anyplace that might retain prints, he nudged open the door with the toe of his boot. Sunlight arced into the small room, revealing an overturned chair and an unmade bed, the flower-print bedspread half-trailing onto the gray-green carpeting. He pulled out his phone and used the flashlight app to illuminate the rest of the room. He stilled on a bright red smear on the far wall and followed it down to the floor—and the body of Field Agent Tony Davidson.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carmen ignored the aches and pains in her face and limbs as she stood beside Jake and watched paramedics carry Tony’s body out of the motel room on a draped stretcher. His throat had been cut—a brutal, terrifying way to die. “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said to Jake as the doors of the ambulance closed.

  “He wasn’t a friend. Not really.”

  “But another agent—they’re a little like family.”

  “Yeah.” He brushed his finger over the bruise on her cheek, and a shiver ran through her. “I saw red when that guy knocked you down.”

  “I’m okay. I’ve been hurt worse. I’m guessing he was the killer, but why?”

  “I don’t know. Tony was a good agent. I don’t see how the Russian—if that was the Russian—could have made him for a cop. But I knew if he wasn't on the job, something must have happened to him.”

  “Did you think Werner did something to him before he headed out to see Metwater?”

  Jake shook his head. “I didn’t know. I just had a bad feeling. I was hoping we’d get here and find him sick with the flu or something.”

  She glanced toward the room next door. Jake had pointed it out to her earlier as Werner’s room. “Do we know Werner is in there?” she asked.

  “We’re pretty sure. That’s his vehicle in front of the door.”

  “You’d think he would come out to see what all the commotion is about.”

  “He probably looked out and saw the police cars and is lying low. But I’d sure like to know how much he knows about all this.”

  “Then why don’t you question him?” she asked.

  “Because then he would know I’m a cop. When I called in to tell my boss what was going on, he told me to get away from here as soon as I could, and to not let Werner see me. He’s hoping if I stay undercover—at least until they get an agent here to replace Tony—we can avoid aborting the investigation. We’ve been working on this case for more than a year and have poured thousands of dollars into it. We’re really close to making a bunch of arrests.”

  “I can ask one of the other Rangers to question him.” Carmen said. “He can say he’s interviewing everyone near the victim’s room.”

  “Good idea,” Jake said.

  “Let’s call Lance Carpenter.” She pulled out her phone. “Being with the Montrose Sheriff’s Department, he won’t look out of place.”

  Since the Sheriff’s Department already had their investigative team on site, this made sense. Fish and Wildlife would assign someone to the case as well—maybe even Jake. But for now, they were relying on the local cops to secure the evidence on scene.

  Carmen gave Lance a summary of what was going on, then passed the phone to Jake, who provided more background on Werner and what they hoped to learn from him. He gave Lance his contact information, then hung up and returned the phone to Carmen. “He’s on his way. Let me take you back to your place. You need to put some ice on that eye.”

  * * *

  CARMEN’S PLACE TURNED out to be half of a duplex not far from the national park. “We call this Ranger Row, so many of us live here,” she said as Jake pulled his truck into her driveway. “Or used to. Marco and Michael and Randall have all gotten married recently and moved into town with their wives. But there are still some of us diehards around.”

  He followed her up the walk from the driveway and waited while she unlocked the door. A loud yowl greeted them as they stepped inside. “I know, Muffin. I’ve been away forever.”
She stooped and gathered up a yellow tabby, who rubbed his head against her chin, then eyed Jake over her shoulder.

  “You have a cat,” he said, hanging back a little.

  “I’ve had Muffin since he was a kitten.” She cradled the cat in her arms and rubbed under his chin. The cat arched his neck and let out a purr that was audible across the room. She glanced at him. “You don’t have a problem with cats, do you?”

  “I’ve never been around them much.” Not at all, really.

  “Well, come and say hello.”

  Jake approached cautiously. Muffin watched him through slit, golden eyes. He held out his hand, letting the animal sniff him. That was what you were supposed to do, right? Then he let out a yelp as Muffin sank his teeth into Jake’s thumb.

  “Muffin, no!” Carmen scolded. She set the cat on the floor and turned to Jake. “Are you okay? I don’t know what got into him.”

  Jake sucked him thumb and eyed the cat, who was stalking away, looking back every few paces to glare at Jake. So that was how it was going to be, was it? “I think maybe he’s a little, um, possessive.”

  Carmen wrinkled her forehead. “Why would you think that?”

  Because I’m the guy who wants to keep him from being the only male in your life. “I have no idea,” he said. He walked over to a bookcase, where she had a number of pictures displayed in frames. Several showed her with various family members—her mother, a man he assumed was her father, her aunt and others. In one, she stood in the center of a group of women, all dressed in Native American dresses decorated with feathers and bells. “What is this?” he asked.

  “I used to dance at powwows, when I was a teenager.”

  He grinned. “I’d like to see that some time.”

  He started to reach for her, but she turned away. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got tea and sodas in the kitchen.” She was already moving toward the kitchen, and he hurried to catch up with her.