“Where was the car found?” It was the only question Sunnie could think to ask.
“In Canyon de Chelly, under a place on the rim called the Spider Rock Overlook.”
“What? Have you ever been to the rim of Canyon de Chelly? You have to walk two hundred feet down a narrow path to the Spider Rock Overlook. It’s amazing anyone could even get a car down that way.”
Cisco looked thoughtful for a minute. “Can you take me there in the morning? I’d like to see it for myself.”
She stood and began clearing the table. “Sure.” Turning to the sink with their dirty dishes, she continued, “Are you going back online now?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to find a loose end. Some string everyone else missed.”
“Anything I can do?”
He was quiet for so long she had to turn back to check on him.
“No,” he finally said with a rough voice. “Just go on to bed. We need to get an early start. I want to be there before the tourists.”
“Not many tourists this time of year. But we can start right after dawn. I’ll stay up but keep out of your way. You might need to ask me a question.” She couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “Besides, you’re taking the bed tonight. I’ll be just fine on the futon over there.”
She looked up in time to catch an odd expression on his face before he caught himself and turned to the computer screen. But she wasn’t ready to question him about anything as personal as sleeping arrangements, so she dragged out of the closet the blanket her grandmother had woven as a girl and settled in on the futon to wait.
The next thing she knew, the gray light from a new day was peeking in through the miniblinds. Sunnie sat up, cleared her head and looked around the room. Cisco wasn’t still sitting at the computer, where she’d last seen him. The clock on the wall said 5:00 a.m.
After a moment, she heard the shower running in the bathroom. The idea of Cisco naked in her shower gave her the shivers. A part of her longed to slip in beside him and take whatever comfort from body-to-body contact he would be willing to give.
But she wouldn’t ask for casual sex from a man she didn’t know.
For the first time she began to seriously wonder about the private life of Mr. Cisco Santiago. He’d had no trouble questioning her about her love life the night before. She hadn’t told him everything, of course—wasn’t even sure she could speak on that subject to anyone yet.
But he hadn’t given her much information about himself in return, either. Now she was more than just curious concerning his business here on the reservation. She wanted to know the person underneath the dark hombre facade.
Suddenly grinning like an idiot, she promised herself that by tonight she would know more about him. Enough, at least, to feel comfortable going after whatever she wanted.
Chapter 7
D awn played tag with the mountaintops, sneaking out here and there but never staying long enough to throw decent light on the road ahead. Cisco figured it was a good thing he was doing the driving this morning.
Sunnie had directed him to take them north into the mountains out of Window Rock. She’d claimed it was the back way to Canyon de Chelly and would give them less of a chance of being spotted. But it was one hell of a graded dirt road that curved and climbed through tough terrain, requiring him to constantly use the four-wheel drive.
Shooting a glance at Sunnie, who’d buckled in tight and held on to the door frame with all her might, Cisco couldn’t help but think of last night and all the things she hadn’t said. It had taken every bit of his willpower to let her sleep on the futon while he’d fought the computer, looking for answers or at least for more questions. And when he’d finally given up and headed for bed at 3:00 a.m., the frantic tossing and turning he’d done in the uncomfortably small single made the short night seem to go on forever.
He would’ve rather carried her into that tiny bed with him. Despite the close quarters—or because of them—the two could’ve held each other close and done fine. Most of his tossing had been due to thoughts of her in the other room all alone.
This morning, even after a cold shower and a hot cup of reheated coffee, he still didn’t have his head together. But driving came second nature to him. No problem.
“Watch out for the skunk,” Sunnie yelped.
Instead of downshifting to take the peak of the next hill, he suddenly had to jam on the brakes to miss a spotted skunk and felt the tires sinking backward on the grade. So far a jackrabbit, a raccoon and a mule deer had brought their progress to a halt. He had visions of what could have happened to them if Sunnie had been driving.
“How much farther?” he shouted without turning around. He wrestled the Jeep back under control and topped the hill.
“Not much. The turnoff for Three Turkey Ruins is coming up. We’re almost there.”
Glancing once again at the sleek beauty beside him, he wished for quiet time to have a conversation with her. There were things he wanted to know, now more than ever. Last night she’d casually slipped into the conversation that her mother had had cancer when she was a teen. Had the mother died? What about the rest of Sunnie’s family?
She’d been deliberately silent concerning her past and her family. But he’d also been careful not to ask too many probing questions. Mainly because he hadn’t wanted to discuss his own background. Now he began to wonder if her past might have some bearing on his investigation.
Just ahead he saw a small sign designating a loose gravel road as the way to Three Turkey Ruins. Beyond that, he drove the Jeep up another little grade and found himself back on a blacktop road.
“Take the immediate right turn there,” she said, pointing northeast. “That’s the way to Spider Rock Overlook. It’s the last public access on the south rim.”
The moment he swung the Jeep around and continued driving through seemingly flat but remote landscape, Cisco felt a change in the atmosphere. A sudden chill, regardless of the morning sun. An odd silence punctuated by shrieks from raptors circling high above them. Narrowing his lips and biting down on the urge to turn around, he pressed his foot to the accelerator and kept going.
In another twenty minutes he pulled into the small parking lot for the Spider Rock Overlook. “Pretty isolated out here,” he muttered as he parked the car and climbed out.
“We like our sacred places isolated,” Sunnie said with a nod. “Come on, there’s the path to the viewing point.”
It was a moderate descent on a narrow rock walk to the edge of the canyon. Cisco took his time following her and proceeded with caution. He wondered how a car could’ve accidentally run out of control this far off the road. The place was still too damned quiet, the air filled with something resembling static electricity.
At the rim, Sunnie stood with hands on hips, staring out at the thousand-foot drop and the spectacular sights beyond. A giant pinnacle, along with a smaller sister, rose straight up from the canyon floor to heights nearing the rim. The sandstone wonders looked close enough to reach out and touch. But of course the largest was probably a good mile away.
“Tsi na ash jeii,” she whispered reverently.
Cisco was amazed to see this wonder of nature, with layer upon layer of deeply colored sandstone and slate, spread out into wide vistas below him. Maroon streaks marred the distant walls of canyon rock, while the burnt-rust color of desert varnish added interest to buttes and pinnacles of volcanic extrusions.
More stunning than any of the guidebooks or Internet panoramas had promised, the view was awesome. He suddenly felt rather reverent about the place himself.
“Spider Rock,” Sunnie explained without taking her gaze away from the sight. Cisco turned to look at her. “This is a most sacred spot for Dine. One of our deities, Spider Woman, is said to live at the top of Spider Rock. It’s our tradition that in the beginning, she taught Dine women how to weave. We owe her thanks for our warmth and also for much of our livelihoods.
“As children,” Sunnie continued with a smile, “we’re
also told how Face Rock tells Spider Woman about naughty children and then carries them to the top of her rock, never to be seen again. The threat always kept me in line.”
Cisco chuckled and moved closer to the edge. With no railing or other protection, he got a little too close. Pebbles slipped from under his feet, trickling down the sheer cliff walls and disappearing into the nothingness below. Another chill raced down his back, making him look around to see if anyone was watching their movements.
He stared down at the distant canyon floor, dotted with juniper, cottonwood and cactus. “Is there a trail that leads to the bottom? Or any way for me to scout around the spot where the car landed and burned?”
She shook her head and turned at last to face him. “No one is ever allowed into the canyon without a park ranger or a registered Navajo guide. Unless you live there.”
“Live there? Where?”
“Farther upriver there are a few small Navajo ranches and farms. Not many anymore, because it’s a hard life. The Navajo Nation will not allow electricity, running water or modern conveniences to be brought in to our sacred land. These days, most of the ranchers move out of the canyon to nearby houses with electricity and heat during winter.”
“The murder took place in January,” he said, thinking aloud. “So I’d guess there wouldn’t have been many people around. No nosy neighbors and not many tourists.”
“Just like now,” Sunnie added as a stiff winter wind wrapped around their ankles and drove frigid air inside their clothes.
He needed to think over what he’d learned. More positive than ever there had been an odd tidbit in the notes or the news articles he’d seen last night, Cisco was sure some link to the canyon and the murder was hiding in plain sight. He’d looked right over it. But now that he understood more about the canyon, it was important to bring that hidden fact to light.
If he thought hard enough or gave himself enough time and space for consideration, he knew the knowledge would come to him.
“Is there anyplace around here where we can get a cup of coffee?”
“The Thunderbird Lodge has a restaurant,” she said. “It’s kind of rustic, but the food’s good. Only a few minutes away.”
He took her elbow and retraced their steps to the Jeep. Perhaps if he spent a while getting to know Sunnie better, his subconscious would work on the mysterious missing-link problem in the meantime.
Blowing on the steaming coffee, Cisco settled into the cracked vinyl booth and studied Sunnie over the rim of his mug. His nerves were raw, on edge, and every little detail about her seemed more vivid and earthy than ever.
She leaned her elbows on the scarred wood tabletop. “I can tell you a few other things about the canyon. Though I don’t know as much as a guide would.”
Her voice was low, sensual. It spilled like spun honey over his ears, igniting a fire in his groin that he needed to find a way to extinguish.
Anger, however irrational, was safer. Or was it? Now that he thought of it, he remembered noticing only a thin line between anger, fear and…hot lust.
Right this minute he needed neither anger nor lust. He needed sanity. “I’d really like you to tell me about your family. I think it’s important for me to get to know you if we’re going to work together.”
She blinked, then forced aside a stray strand of her hair in a hasty movement. The idea of talking about herself must make her as nervous as it did him.
“There’s nothing to tell. My family is either gone or might as well be.” She hesitated only a moment before adding, “I’d much rather hear about your family.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said with a grin. “No turning the conversation to me until you’ve finished your story.” He was determined not to let her slink away this time. “You said something last night about your mother getting cancer when you were thirteen. I take it she didn’t live. That’s too bad. Can you tell me about it?”
She narrowed her eyes at him but shrugged a shoulder as if it wouldn’t hurt to talk. “She was sick for five years before she died. As the only girl in the family, it was my job to care for her. Watching her deteriorate was the hardest part.”
“You were her caretaker? Throughout high school?”
“I didn’t go to high school. There was no way. But I had a teacher who brought the work to my house. With her help, I managed to graduate on time. Uh…almost on time—just days after my mother passed away.”
“That’s tough. It must’ve changed you.”
Sunnie nodded thoughtfully. “My father helped me through it and taught me many lessons. One of those was how women must sit with sorrow. But I didn’t…”
She’d seemed ready to say something else but went in another direction. “My mother’s death did change me some. I felt I’d found my calling and decided to become a nurse. My father helped pay my way through college.”
He’d known she was a nurse. It had been obvious from the beginning. He wondered why she wasn’t still working as a nurse now, though he wasn’t ready to push her yet.
“So where are your father and brothers?” he asked.
“My brothers left the reservation years ago. One joined the Army. Another went off to follow the rodeo. My baby brother got fed up with trying to find a job and just walked away. We’ve lost touch.”
“And your father?”
Opening her mouth, she shook her head and looked down into her coffee mug. “He’s gone now, too,” she said in a rough whisper.
Well, obviously that was the part of her story where the pain lingered. He didn’t like the remorse and guilt he’d clearly heard in her voice. Something about her father’s death must have been life-altering and too difficult for her to discuss.
Interesting that his own father’s death had also been a life-changing event for him. Feeling sympathetic but still not ready to give up everything about himself, he decided to tell her at least something in return for giving him a glimpse into her background.
“My high school years weren’t anything to rave about. Don’t think you missed out on much by skipping yours.”
She glanced up, but the melancholy expression hadn’t changed.
“My mother and I were living in Albuquerque,” he added. “Mama had come across the border before I was born, leaving all her family behind. Just as I entered high school our circumstances…suddenly changed. We had to scratch and claw to find ways to survive. I allied myself with a gang, doing whatever was necessary to make money and stay alive.”
“Is that where you got the scar?”
“Scars. Yes. I did a few things I wish I hadn’t. But I survived. Got tough and got out. My mother wasn’t so lucky. She died of a drug overdose a few years later.”
He took a slug of strong, cold coffee that was thick enough to lube a car. He’d never before given anyone even a minor look into his background. Letting go of a tiny sliver of information about his family felt good. Relieving.
“I—I’m sorry you had to lose her that way,” Sunnie said softly, searching his face for emotion.
“Don’t be,” he shot back, cutting her off and masking whatever feelings were left. “Things in the past should be over.” But he knew both of them had one or two things in their pasts that still bothered them. And, oddly, each of their dark secrets seemed to center around their fathers.
“A big part of the Navajo philosophy tells us one should learn to recognize what’s beyond one’s human power to change.” She shoved her coffee mug aside and reached out a hand to him. “It’s the attitude that must be adjusted. People should strive to become content with the inevitable.”
From across the table he took her hand. “And you live by that philosophy?”
“Hell, no,” she said with a wry laugh. “But I wish I could.”
Cisco relaxed and laughed, too. It was then that the piece of information he’d been trying to remember came back to him in a flash.
He pulled his hand from hers, felt the loss but ignored it. “I’ve just thought of something. Ac
cording to the news accounts, a Navajo guide was first to find the car wreck and the body at the bottom of the canyon. You think a guide might’ve been unusual in the canyon for that time of year? His name was, um, Shorty Tom, I think.”
She tilted her head. “A guide might be there at any time of the year. Did he have tourists with him?”
“I don’t know. The article didn’t mention any. Do you think the man would still be around, maybe still guiding, after all these years?”
“Who knows? It’s possible, I suppose.” Sunni glanced around the restaurant. “Let’s go. See the old woman at the cash register? She’s known for her knowledge of Canyon de Chelly. Been living near here most of her life. I bet she knows the guides, both current and past. We can ask her.”
They scooted out from the table and Cisco grabbed the check. He started for the register in the front, but Sunnie touched his arm and hung back.
“You do the asking,” she whispered as she pulled the brim of her cap farther down on her forehead. “I don’t know how good her eyesight is anymore, but I’d rather she didn’t recognize me.”
“Do you know her well?”
“Not really. But they carried my picture in all the papers around here when I—” She stopped herself and pursed her lips. “About six months ago. If I’m the one putting my face right up in hers, she might be more inclined to study it than most people are. I try hard not to make waves, so people barely look at me. And not everyone reads the paper in Dinetah, anyway.”
She took a breath and continued. “But I bet she does. I’d rather she didn’t even think I look familiar.”
Cisco nodded, but he now had one more burning question he needed to ask. It would wait for a quiet moment.
There weren’t any other customers in the place, so he strolled to the counter, flapped down the check and a ten-dollar bill. The ancient woman, with wrinkles the size of slot canyons covering her face, raised her chin and glanced at both him and Sunnie. But neither one of them seemed to interest her very much.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 119
