by Aimée Thurlo
They’d decided to sit in the area of the main room defined by three-foot walls. As she entered that sitting area, she noted that the brown leather couch and chairs were a matched set.
“Would you like some coffee to warm up?” Daniel asked Preston.
“From the weather outside, or the temperature in here?” he demanded, glancing around. “It feels like a meat locker.”
“The thermostat should be up to the mid-sixties by now,” Daniel said, going over to check.
“That’s a tropical heat wave in here, right?” Preston muttered, then shook his head. “No coffee, I can’t stay for long.” Bowman looked directly at Holly. “It appears you left a name off the suspect list—Ross Williams.”
“It wasn’t intentional, Detective,” she said. “I hadn’t seen Ross for months, and he was so annoying, I guess I blocked him out.”
“So who else haven’t you thought of?” Preston pressed.
“I can’t think of anyone, and I’ve really tried. You have to understand how things work in my business. My job description requires me to be able to get along with a wide variety of people. Making enemies is counterproductive on every level. I depend heavily on word of mouth to get new clients, too.”
“What happened to the guy who followed us into the Bucking Bronco?” Daniel asked. “Did the BOLO get results?”
“Sorry, no. We spoke to Roger Davis, that knuckle dragger you fought. Davis said that some guy in the parking lot handed him fifty bucks to go inside and take you on. His out of focus description told us nothing except that we’re dealing with a white male in a baseball cap, something we already knew,” Preston said. “It looked to me that Roger had a six-pack too many. Lucky for you. What the hell were you thinking, Dan? He’s as big as an ox.”
“He was drunk, as you said, and his timing was way off. I knew I’d be okay as long as he didn’t get his arms around me.”
“He could have squeezed the water out of you.” Preston looked back at Holly. “Obviously someone wants you dead. Why can’t you come up with a name?”
“I don’t know!” she said, her voice rising. “I’m not holding anything back.”
“Let’s get back to your responsibility, bro,” Daniel snapped. “How did you manage to lose the sedan tailing us? We led him right past you over on Murray Drive.”
“Yeah, we screwed up. He crossed over into the mall parking lot. His timing was perfect. The traffic lights changed before our officer could clear the intersection and the subject got away. I was approaching from the west, behind a delivery truck, and lost sight of him for about three minutes. That was all it took for him to disappear among the maybe five-hundred last-minute shoppers on their way in or out of the mall. Then there was the regular go-home crowd.”
“Did you send a detective to Ross’s home?” Daniel pressed.
“Yeah, sure, but he’s supposedly driven on to Winslow for another job fair, and we want to catch him back in the state. We won’t quit until we talk to him, but keep in mind we have nothing on Williams except for that incident at the community center, and even then, what do we charge him with? Probability and proof are two different things, and he might just decide to claim he was the one being assaulted.” Preston glanced at Daniel, who shrugged.
Holly rolled her eyes. “So now what?”
“I’d like you to hang where it’s safe until I give you the all clear,” Preston said. “Here would be perfect,” he said, looking at Daniel.
“How long will that be?” she asked.
“Let’s say another hour? After that, things should have calmed down a bit more.”
“We’ll wait to hear from you,” Daniel said.
As Daniel walked out with Preston, discussing what she supposed was a plan, Holly stayed with Gene.
“That’s going to be real hard for my brother to do—waiting around for someone else to get answers,” Gene said. “Dan’s more comfortable taking point and staying in control of the situation.”
“I’ve noticed,” she said. “And you?”
“Less so, but the tendency’s still there. It comes from having spent way too much of our lives around strangers who decided what was good for us, what we should do and when. These days, turning over the reins to anyone else, even for a moment, doesn’t come easy to any of us.”
Before she could ask him more, Daniel returned. “I never did feed you dinner,” he said, looking at Holly.
“I picked up an extra pizza. It’s still in the freezer. Help yourselves,” Gene said, waving a hand toward the kitchen.
“Where are you off to?” Daniel asked.
“Unless you need me here, I have to pick up Hosteen Silver’s death certificate from the mortuary,” he said quietly, checking his watch. “We’ll need that to file some of the paperwork.”
“Go ahead.” Daniel stood there silently as Gene left.
“I didn’t realize that your foster father had died so recently,” Holly said as soon as the door shut.
“About three weeks ago,” he said, walking with her across the big room toward the refrigerator. “Gene’s handling the paperwork.”
“Everything is red tape these days,” she said, sympathizing.
“His death took all of us by surprise,” Daniel said after a long silence.
“Did he die at home? Is that why Gene isn’t staying there?” she asked, wondering why Gene hadn’t opted for that, particularly since he hadn’t seemed too pleased with the accommodations here at Daniel’s.
Of course if Hosteen Silver had died at the house, not many Navajos would have felt comfortable there. Fear of the chindi, the earthbound and evil side of a man, was believed to remain attached to the place of his death, while the good in him went on to merge with Universal Harmony.
“My foster father went like most Traditionalists. He walked off into the night. I still don’t understand why he did that, he wasn’t sick, at least as far as we know, but those are the facts,” Daniel said. “The reason Gene didn’t stay at the house is because he’s hoping to find a handyman soon who’ll live there while renovating the place.”
Daniel found the pizza, wrapped in foil, on top of a stack of frozen dinners. He removed the foil and popped it into the microwave.
“What brand is that?” she asked. “The toppings look so appetizing.”
“This isn’t store-bought pizza. A Navajo woman makes most of my meals. She gets to raise a little cash that way, and I get great food ready for the microwave. Since Gene’s staying here now, she’s making extra-large portions. Green chile pizza is his favorite.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said.
As he waited for the microwave to beep, Daniel took his keys out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. A smaller leather pouch nearly came out along with the keys and he pushed it back down into his pocket.
“That was a medicine bag, wasn’t it? I’ve only seen Traditionalists and New Traditionalists carry those,” she said.
“It was a gift from Hosteen Silver. He gave one to each of us when we turned seventeen. Inside, among other things, is a fetish. All of my brothers have a different guardian animal, one whose spirit matches him best,” Daniel said. “My fetish’s spirit is part of what makes me so good in a fight, and why I generally win.”
He didn’t volunteer any more information and she struggled between respecting his privacy and a nearly overwhelming sense of curiosity. “If you feel I’m prying, don’t answer,” she said at last, “but I’d like to know which animal he chose for you.”
“The badger,” he answered, as he removed the pizza from the microwave.
She thought about the qualities that made the animal unique. “When cornered it’s a fierce fighter—tenacious and strong. They never give up, no matter what.”
He smiled.
“Hosteen Silver was right. That does suit you.”
After they ate at the little table, they went back to the sitting area. She took a seat on the couch, and Daniel joined her, one arm draped over the back
as he faced her. Despite his relaxed pose, she could feel the tension in him.
He glanced at the clock on the wall across the room, looked at his cell phone, then back at her. “Can you think of a good way for us to pass the time?” he asked, a slow smile spreading over his face.
For a brief second she fought the impulse to lie against that wonderfully broad chest and hide in the shelter of his arms.
Holly clamped down on the thought almost as soon as it formed. Was she crazy? What they had was a temporary arrangement, that was all. She knew only too well how men changed, how undependable they could become. Her father had been a prime example. That was why she’d fought so hard to make herself strong—to have the ability to stand on her own.
“Actually, I do have an idea,” she said at length, focusing on the real reason they were together. “Teach me that nerve pinch you used to control Ross Williams.”
For a second she was almost sure she saw disappointment flash in his eyes. Annoyed with herself for what she suspected was the product of her overactive imagination, she stared at her lap, steadied herself, then added, “I don’t like feeling helpless.”
“I hear you.”
His words resonated with an emotion she couldn’t identify at first. Then, recalling what Gene had said about their days in foster care, Holly realized that Daniel probably did understand exactly how she felt.
He took her hand, then pressed the center and back of her palm. “There’s a nerve here, and if you apply enough pressure with your thumb you can bring a man to his knees. But it’s not a good technique for a woman who has no training. You’d need to get in too close and your best defense is distance. If you’re standing, you know kicking a man in the groin will buy you a few seconds to make tracks. You might also consider carrying a can of mace.”
“That means reaching into my purse and hoping I can find it fast during a crisis situation. All things considered, I’m more likely to end up spraying myself.”
He laughed, but before he could say anything else, the telephone rang. Daniel answered it on the first ring, then put the call on the speaker.
“I spoke to Williams. He never made it out of the state because of a storm front near Flagstaff,” Bowman said. “He claimed that he was at the Turquoise Bar the night Holly was attacked outside the café. At first I figured he was trying to snow me. The place is a zoo even on weeknights and verifying that alibi would have been nearly impossible. Then he told me that he’d had a problem with the bartender that night. He hit on one of the waitresses and it turned out to be the guy’s daughter. I verified it and Williams was there.”
“So if it wasn’t Ross, then who’s after me?” Holly said, fear tightening its grip on her.
“You tell me. Keep thinking about it.”
After the call ended, Daniel looked over at her. “You’re shaking like a leaf,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. “You don’t have to be afraid, Holly. He’s not going to win.”
His words and the warmth of his embrace comforted her, but as her fear subsided, she eased out of his arms. Though Daniel made it easy, she couldn’t allow herself to cling to anyone. Fear was a cruel enemy. It didn’t attack when you could easily defeat it. It lay in wait, and caught you unawares when you were most vulnerable. Daniel was a dependable ally, but fear came from within, and that was a battle she’d have to fight and win alone.
“As a kid, I learned to survive by quieting the voice inside me that said I wasn’t strong enough, or brave enough to do what had to be done,” she said. “I refused to listen, particularly when it told me that I’d never be able to get what I wanted most out of life.”
“What is it that you’re after, Holly?”
“The same thing most women value. Life defined by love, the kind that’s steady and sure, come rain or shine.”
“Neither life nor love is that perfect.”
“Maybe not, but it’ll be real enough for me when I find it.”
“It’s easier to live in the moment. What do you want right now?” Daniel asked, his gaze holding hers.
The storm raging in his eyes ignited a fire that swept through her, yet she knew that what he was offering was only temporary. Halfway propositions and empty promises had defined her life growing up. She wouldn’t settle for that ever again.
“I’m not the kind who lives just for today, Daniel.”
“Learning to live for the moment can give you a very sweet sense of freedom,” he said.
“That depends on how you define freedom. I find it by choosing my own destiny.” She stood and put more distance between them. “So is it safe for me to go home now?”
“Yeah, I’ll drive you back, check your place out, then take off. Tomorrow we’ll get a fresh start. Do you have anything special coming up in your schedule?”
“I’ll need to check in with Martin, but there’s nothing for tomorrow that I know about yet. I have upcoming presentations I’ll need to work on at the office, but you don’t have to babysit me constantly. Maybe you could set up some cameras. That should do the trick.”
“My job is to keep you safe. I can’t guarantee that if I’m not there.”
“Let’s see how things play out, then. Maybe Detective Bowman will turn up something later tonight.”
“Is there a reason why you don’t want me around?” he asked, getting right to the point.
Holly hesitated, trying to figure out how to answer him. The truth was, her attraction to Daniel scared her because she knew it could only lead to trouble. He was the wrong kind of man for her. He liked danger and adventure and she wanted a quiet, predictable life.
Miss Caution and Mr. Reckless. No way it could work. She had to accept that and move on. Yet when she looked at him, all common sense went out the window. She wanted him to kiss her again, to make her feel as if she were melting inside, and needing things she didn’t even dare name.
Chapter Fourteen
He was uneasy sitting this close to Holly in the confines of his SUV. As it had been on the sofa just a while ago, her scent teased him. All he wanted to do right now was pull over and kiss her senseless.
He kept his gaze on the road, his face rigid. He had a job to do, and he’d have to keep it strictly business. That was the only way they’d get through this without the kind of scars that would last a lifetime.
He could offer her a night of passion and take her on a journey of pleasure that would light up even the darkest sky. Yet for him, it would go no further than that.
He’d end up hurting Holly, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. What she wanted—the kind of man who’d go to work at eight and return home promptly at five—just wasn’t him.
Women—they were trouble no matter how you looked at it. “When we get to your house, stay close until we’re inside. Like before, wait by the door while I check out the place. If there’s trouble, run back out here and call 911. Got it?”
“Do you think he’s waiting for me?”
He heard the tremor in her voice and saw her swallow hard. He cursed himself for being so blunt. “No. It’s unlikely that anyone’s broken in. It’s just procedure, part of a checklist.”
“Then why are you so tense?” she asked.
The fact that she could read his mood took him by surprise. No one usually could, except for Preston. “What makes you think I’m tense?”
“You set your jaw, and your eyes…get hard.”
“Right now, I’m trying to anticipate this guy’s next move. I want to be able to counter whatever he throws at us. He’s skilled but also reckless, or maybe desperate. I’m not sure.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” she said, running an exasperated hand through her hair. “Why me? It takes a lot of hatred to want anyone dead. How can I have made someone so angry and not know it?”
“It may not be anger or hatred. It could be about power, or maybe he’s trying to neutralize a person he sees as a threat. You haven’t witnessed a crime, have you?”
“If I had, don’
t you think I would have remembered?” She shuddered. “I wish I had some of your toughness and could look at things stone cold.”
“Toughness is a label that belongs to anyone who refuses to give up. You’ve done just fine. You’ve proven that you can think fast and stand up for yourself.”
Soon they arrived at her home in Hartley. Daniel covered her back as she unlocked the front door, then he went inside first. Signaling her to wait, he walked quickly through her home, checking out the other rooms and looking into the backyard via the windows. As soon as he was satisfied that everything was as it should be, he rejoined her in the living room.
“It’s okay.”
“Good. Now I can breathe again,” she said.
“What time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”
“Seven,” she said.
“I’ll be here.”
Daniel was heading to the door when he heard a metallic noise on the front porch, then a clank. Reaching for Holly, he pulled her to the floor.
“Stay down.” Daniel drew his weapon, then moved toward the door. Staying low, he reached up, turned the handle and pulled hard. The door moved less than an inch.
“Something’s attached to the door on the outside, holding it shut,” he said. “Head for the kitchen. Hurry.”
“What’s that smell?” she asked, curling her nose.
“Smoke. Move fast!”
As they rushed through the dining room and into the kitchen, smoke was already seeping into the house from around the overhead light fixtures. A smoke alarm in the hall began its high-pitched electronic beep and the acrid scent of burning wood permeated the air.
As soon as they reached the back door, he reached for the knob, but it refused to turn at all. He checked the dead bolt, but it wouldn’t turn, either. “It’s either jammed or glued shut. I can’t get the mechanism to work.” He kicked the knob, bending it a little, then tried again. It wouldn’t budge.
