Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  “How did you end up over the side of the cliff?” Hunter asked. “Did the evil ones hit you with a surprise attack?”

  Kody found his balance at last and stood up on still-shaky legs. “Don’t ask,” he muttered, not yet willing to admit his own stupidity. “But I did look directly into the face of the Skinwalker snake. And I felt a strong craving in him for Reagan. I have to get back to her.

  “That whole contrived kidnapping scene back at the mouth of the canyon…” he added in a stronger, more confident voice. “The car, the wolf tracks, everything was just a distraction for us. I’m positive someone designed it just to throw us off.”

  “Yes,” Michael agreed. “It certainly threw you right off the side of the cliff.”

  Kody knew he should smile at his cousin’s subtle, Navajo-style humor. But he was too concerned about Reagan to do much of anything but rush back to her.

  Dusting himself off, Kody felt his growing anxiety over Reagan’s safety creating a lump in his throat. But he wasn’t quite ready to phone her just yet. Not without knowing if a real person had been abducted from the bloody and burned out SUV. And if that person could’ve been her father.

  Instead, he would have Hunter call Shirley to check on Reagan. Kody needed to hear that she was still safe and sound so his life could get back on track.

  Looking mortality and pure evil in the eye tended to change a man. But since his brain was still misted over by a fog of panic and guilt, he wouldn’t be able to judge how much he’d changed for quite a while yet.

  All he knew now was that he, too, craved Reagan, just like the snake. And that craving was growing stronger and deeper with every breath he took.

  Reagan paced the wood-planked kitchen floor, waiting for Kody to return to his mother’s house. She’d heard what had happened to him and couldn’t wait to see him.

  Shirley and Lucas were outside, circling the house and using chants and sacred medicines to bless and return it to balance and safety. Clasping and unclasping her hands, and occasionally stopping to bite her nails, Reagan tried to force her thoughts away from Kody and on to another subject entirely.

  She’d done what she could with e-mail and text messages on her handheld wireless, but an old-fashioned, reliable computer was what she needed most.

  Kody must know the whereabouts of a computer that she could use to dial into the Internet. Shirley had been hinting that the Brotherhood used such a computer for research.

  Reagan had her own research to do.

  Even without a computer, she had learned a lot in the last few hours from Shirley and then from Lucas about the Skinwalkers and the Brotherhood. Their stories had been fascinating. The chants, rituals and medicines they used were complicated, but mostly based on things Reagan had already heard or read about.

  When they’d first told her about the Skinwalkers, Reagan had wondered if the entire reservation wasn’t suffering from some form of mass hypnosis. But in the end, she had no choice except to believe the truth.

  Her own empirical evidence was impossible to ignore. She had experienced it in person.

  She’d seen and heard almost everything she needed to find her father. But she was still expecting helpful information to come in via e-mail. And she couldn’t wait to get her hands on it.

  She’d text messaged one of her online buddies, who had promised to hack into an underground database in order to get the information she’d requested. A competent and notorious cracker, this friend wouldn’t take more than a few hours to find what she needed.

  Reagan hoped getting hold of this particular information would not mean the destruction of her childhood dreams. She had focused everything about who and what she had become on girlish imaginings of a father she scarcely knew. Now she would finally learn the truth.

  She just had to pray Kody would never find out how she had gotten the information.

  “Red? You okay?” Speak of the devil.

  She turned around to see Kody coming into the kitchen through the mudroom door. And it happened again. The sight of him was so stunning and so…familiar that she almost lost her mind.

  In fact, she did lose control. Reagan held her breath and ran straight for him. “Ohmigod!” she shrieked. “You’re here and you’re…you’re alive!”

  It would have been embarrassing and truly terrible if Kody hadn’t held out his arms and wrapped her up in his embrace as she came within reach. But he did.

  Oh, glory, but he did.

  He crushed her to his chest and held on tight, just as though he was still back there grasping the edge of that cliff. He’d thought he must be over any lingering adrenaline rush by this time. But when he felt her heart thumping wildly against his own, the blood rushed through his veins and he had to beat back blurry tears.

  He never cried. Not even when his father died.

  And now would not be the best time to begin. But Reagan felt so right in his arms. Her clean, fresh scent teased his senses. Her silky red curls tickled his neck.

  The stoic inside him had given way to a man who’d been terrified that she might not be here when he returned.

  Her rounded curves were plastered against him, making his thoughts turn to wild imaginings. He was a fool to want her this much. A fool and a romantic idiot.

  She was in danger, and it was up to him to keep her safe. He tried once again to remember his vows not to get involved with any woman.

  He also remembered that his track record was not good when it came to picking the right person to love.

  So he took her by the shoulders and gently set her back a few inches. “Uh…” Her face was so full of desire and caring that he forgot what he’d wanted to say.

  “They told me,” she began with a watery sniff. “You…you almost died. The Skinwalker snake pushed you off a cliff. I—I…”

  Kody could see her battling tears the same way he had just been doing. The sight was endearing. It made him feel closer to her. As strong-willed and full of power as he knew she was, it seemed her heart was also in proper balance.

  “Well, that’s almost the way it happened.” He managed a small smile. “And apparently you had a visitor who brought poison cake. You think maybe we should stick together from now on, or at least until we get a lead on your father?”

  She didn’t answer, but continued to gaze up at him with such longing that he couldn’t bear to look at her beautiful face or the desire in those wide, hazel eyes for another second.

  He turned to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. “I could use a shower. I’ll get cleaned up while you—”

  “Wait a second. Do you have any idea why these…these subhumans behave like this? What drives them?”

  Swallowing the long, cool drink, Kody let the life-giving liquid calm him and settle his libido before he answered her question. “Navajo legend says the Skinwalkers are driven to do bad deeds in their thirst for power. Today that means money and all the things it can buy. Greed, pure and simple.”

  He turned around and saw the confusion in Reagan’s eyes.

  “But my ancestors amassed great wealth and power,” she insisted. “And though they weren’t exactly angels, not a single one of them went that far over to the dark side.”

  “Some people are just plain evil, Red. Maybe it’s the way they were brought up—maybe it’s destiny. Whatever causes it,” he continued, “the good forces must battle the evil…and win. Otherwise, civilization as we know it will crumble.”

  Reagan placed her hand lightly on his arm. “This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

  Hell. He would rather cut out his tongue than rehash his old demons with her. But he wanted her to know what pure evil they were facing.

  “The war means everything to me now.” His answer had to explain why, otherwise he would not have told the whole truth. “But it began with my father’s murder. The tribal police claimed at first that his death was a suicide.”

  Kody shook his head vehemently. “Our family knew better than that. Someone, or maybe
some group, made it seem like Dad had turned from being a good cop to being a criminal. Like he’d been taking dirty money for giving out contracts. And that when he believed other investigators were closing in on him, he killed himself rather than face prison time.”

  “Your father was a cop, too?”

  “At the time, he was a retired CIA agent, consulting with the Navajo tribal police on setting up a special investigations department.”

  The place on Kody’s forearm where her hand still touched his skin grew warm. “But that’s all ancient history. At first, I tried everything I could to prove his death was murder. But I wasn’t sure what needed to be done. So I went off to college to study law enforcement, and then was recruited by the FBI.”

  “That’s good. Maybe now you can find out what happened.”

  Gently tugging his arm away from her fingers, Kody shook his head. “That trail is too old. The clues are cold. But unfortunately, the same evil is spreading.

  “There’s a good chance that the Skinwalkers are looking to take over more than just this reservation.” He backed up another step, because the urge to fold her in his embrace and protect her from the evil was so strong he could almost taste it. “The Brotherhood believes the bad guys won’t stop until they have enough power to control the world.”

  Reagan’s eyes widened and he could see her genius mind racing to put the pieces together. “I need—”

  The kitchen door opened and Shirley Nez came inside. “The signs are growing darker.”

  She gave Kody a sharp nod, but concentrated her attention on Reagan. “You must use all your resources. Before it is beyond hope.”

  “Have you heard something about my father?”

  “The winds are whispering many things tonight.” Shirley turned to Kody. “You and your clan are being used…threatened. Not for deeds but for proximity.”

  “The Skinwalkers need Reagan.” It was a pure guess, but he knew it to be the truth. “And they don’t mind who they hurt or kill to get to her.”

  Shirley blinked once in response. “Your best defense is to stand behind the daughter. Give her whatever weapons she requires.”

  “Weapons?” He shifted to question Reagan. “What do you need? How can I help you?”

  “A computer.” The words slipped out of her mouth. “I could really use a landline computer with Internet access if you’ve got one.”

  Why had she been so quick to ask for that? She chided herself that the last thing she needed right now was for Kody to ask why she wanted Internet access so desperately.

  But he never missed a beat. “Come with me. I’ll help you boot up and then I can grab a shower.”

  More than an hour later, Kody finally managed to slip into clean jeans, jam his feet into moccasins and comb his fingers through his still-wet hair. It hadn’t taken five minutes to turn over the computer in his own hogan to Reagan. She’d had no trouble getting online.

  But since then, his ear had been glued to his cell phone. Half a dozen Brotherhood members had called or been called. Kody wanted everyone to be on the lookout for trouble—and to search for a spot where the Skinwalkers might be holding Reagan’s father captive.

  This whole thing had something to do with Commander Wilson’s classified job at White Sands. Kody was sure of it. Maybe he should try calling in a few of the favors he was owed in Washington to find out what Reagan’s scientist father had been working on when he disappeared. Knowing that might tell them why.

  Kody folded his towel and hung it on the rack. He’d deliberately built this round, wooden-planked building to be big enough for only one person.

  It was the exact dimensions specified by tradition for a hogan. But he’d secretly run electric, telephone and cable TV up here so he and the Brotherhood could keep up with the bad guys.

  He wondered how long Reagan would be staying with him. Would she want to use the shower? What about sleeping arrangements?

  Whoa. That was a thought he needed to bank. There would be no sleeping together. None. It would be too tempting.

  And he just knew that the moment her father was found, Reagan would be gone. Back to her own life in California.

  He was sure that would be for the best. If he went against his vows and asked her to stay, she might feel obligated—for a while.

  But then, eventually, she would grow tired of him, tired of reservation life, and leave. Caring about Reagan and watching her walk away would be so much worse than when Marsha had left. It would kill him for sure this time.

  Worrying about what Reagan had been up to since he’d last seen her, Kody wandered out of the bathroom and through the tiny kitchen toward the big central room under the domed roof. The closer he came, the more he could hear music playing. Hot music. Something with a salsa beat.

  He spotted Reagan through the flickering shadows. She was on her feet and swaying her hips to the pounding beat.

  Hanging back a second, he tried to see what she was up to. She was using the computer to play music from some Internet Web site. But that wasn’t the most interesting part of what she was doing.

  She had obviously discovered where he’d stored his mother’s blank sketch pad. Kody had kept her old drawing paper, hoping that someday his mother would want to go back to her art. But so far, she had shown no interest.

  Reagan, on the other hand, was using the pad to dash off something at a sprinter’s pace. She was writing so fast it made him wonder why her wrist didn’t ache.

  As he watched, she finished filling the sheet she’d been using, and ripped it off the pad. In two swift movements, she’d hung the sheet up on the hogan’s log wall, fastening it with a piece of masking tape Kody had almost forgotten he owned.

  He noticed it wasn’t the first sheet she’d hung up that way. But instead of studying her handiwork, Reagan went right back to scribbling on the pad of paper.

  Curious now, he drew closer for a better look. She was so wrapped up in what she was doing, he made it all the way to the wall where the papers were hanging and she never even noticed he was in the room.

  “Math formulas?” He didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but he was so struck with surprise that he couldn’t contain himself.

  “Huh?” Reagan looked up at him as though her mind had been a million miles away in some distant cosmos.

  “What are you doing? What is all this?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I saw the idea on a repeat of a television show. They got a few minor things wrong on TV, but I thought it might be worth a try.” She looked over to where the papers were hanging. “I actually think it will work, too…or at least get us close.”

  “Can you give a poor math-impaired cop an idea of what you’re talking about?”

  She pointed to one paper that looked different from the rest. Moving closer for a better view, Kody noticed it was a computer-generated satellite map of the Four Corners reservation, with most of the roads overlaid on top.

  “It’s all in the numbers,” she told him. “In this case, the idea is to find out where the Skinwalkers are located, not who they are. Human beings…even subhumans like Skinwalkers…will try to spread their bad deeds around an area in what appears to be a random pattern. They want to control the situation by hiding their true point of origin. Keeping their hideout a secret.

  “But,” she continued, pointing at several pages with formulas scribbled across them, “they never manage true random sequence. True random will include clusters. But this…” She waved at the wall of papers.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a mathematical principle for finding an origin point by working backward, using the scatter effect technique. It’s similar to being able to find a black hole by using only the evidence of the effect that hole has on the galaxy around it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Look.” She tapped a finger on the map. “Here are all the locations where the Skinwalkers have attacked us. See? Backwash Monument. Sheepdip Creek. That cliff you tried climbing withou
t a ladder.”

  He shook his head and smiled at her.

  “But I’m missing something.”

  “What?”

  “Well, since formulaic principle is never wrong, there should have been an attack—” she pointed to the map “—right in this area. But…”

  “The Tuba City area?”

  She nodded.

  A chill moved up from the base of his spine and clutched at his heart. “There was an attack there. My mother’s sister and her family.”

  “Ohmigod. That’s where your mother went, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t take the time to answer, but grabbed for his cell phone and headed out the door so he could get a better signal.

  Before he had time to punch in his aunt’s numbers, a call came through. He looked at the lighted dial and his worst fears became reality. It was Shirley Nez calling. And Shirley was always the bearer of bad tidings.

  He held his breath and answered her call.

  15

  “T ell me again. Why are you and Shirley Nez so sure your mother’s accident was a Skinwalker attack?”

  Reagan sat hunched over the sketch pad in the passenger seat as Kody sped along through the gathering dusk. They were heading for a medical clinic in Window Rock, where Audrey Long had been admitted after being injured in a single vehicle rollover.

  “And why was she way over near Window Rock? That’s in the other direction from Tuba City.” The questions and possible answers swirled in Reagan’s head. She couldn’t seem to help spitting them out as they occurred to her.

  Kody threw her a wicked glance. “If you’ll let me get in a word…”

  She leaned back in the passenger seat and clamped her mouth shut.

  He chuckled, but quickly sobered and returned his main focus to the mountainous road ahead. “According to Shirley, my mother and her brother-in-law were returning to Tuba City after spending the day in Window Rock. They’d tried to see the tribal council about the massacre of the sheep, but didn’t have much luck. The council is in session, but even my aunt and uncle’s own chapter delegate refused to listen.”