by Aimée Thurlo
When she’d searched through all the books he’d given her, she glanced up at him. “The men I saw are not in any of these books. But there’s one book missing-number seven.”
He checked it out, then muttered a soft curse. “I’ll be right back.”
When Agent Harris stepped out the door, Dana caught a glimpse of Ranger. He was across the hall speaking to a Navajo plainclothes officer, judging from the badge on his belt. Ranger’s expression left no doubt that things weren’t going well.
Looking back at the FBI agent, she saw Harris pick up the book she’d been missing off one of the desks. He was on his way back when a stir went around the squad room, and the officers all turned to look at a big-screen TV mounted on the wall. Some stood up from their desks. It became quiet all of a sudden.
Hearing her name mentioned by the newscaster, Dana stood and walked across the hall to listen. Her high school photo was flashed on the screen. The news brief featured her-the kidnap victim who’d survived. As bits and pieces of her life unfolded before the cameras she felt her insides knot up.
“Dana Seles has always been a survivor,” the reporter said. “Sources report that in her younger years…”
Dana returned to the office as the reporter recounted her mother’s arrest, the charges of card counting and, most of all, references describing Dana’s photographic memory.
“This is bad-very bad,” Harris said, returning to the office and dropping the book in front of her.
“Because the criminals are going to find out about my photographic memory?”
“Exactly. They might as well have painted a bull’s eye on your back,” he said, sitting down. “And whatever details they left out of the broadcast, you can count on reading about in the morning paper.”
He leaned back in his seat and regarded her in silence for several moments as she leafed through the mug shots. “Well, at least I know why you were able to come up with that extremely detailed description of what happened today. But there’s something I still don’t get. Why did you meet with the old man yesterday afternoon?” He looked down at his watch to confirm it was well past midnight. “I understand you were the one who arranged the meeting.”
“Teachers usually arrange their parent-teacher conferences,” she said, then went through the story again.
“Officers questioned Kevin Cohoe’s parents. It seems Mr. Cohoe got a note from someone claiming to be his mother’s neighbor and telling him that his mother was very sick. When they got there, Mr. Cohoe’s mother was just fine and they realized that the note had been a fake.”
“So that’s how they knew my friend would be at the school. They set him up.” She shook her head, then realized Harris was looking at her very coldly. “Wait a minute. You’re not seriously thinking that was my doing!”
“You tell me,” he said, his expression unchanged.
“Even if I’d been responsible for sending them that note-which I’m not-how could I possibly have known Hastiin Sani would show up?”
“A calculated guess? He and his grandson were very close and you two were friends, supposedly.”
Rage twisted inside her until her entire body began to shake. “I loved Hastiin Sani like a father.”
“I’m just trying to sort out the facts,” he said in a reasonable tone that only infuriated her more.
“Your theory makes absolutely no sense and that’s a fact. What motive could I possibly have? I’ve got a great job, my bills are all paid up and I even have a fairly decent savings account. So why would I do something like that? For more money? Hastiin Sani’s family isn’t wealthy. Last of all, if I were involved, why would I warn you that Trujillo has more violence planned?” Her words tumbled out, along with her frustration and anger.
“Good points. All perfectly logical,” he said.
She slammed the mug-shot book shut, then leaned back in her chair and stared at him. “None of the kidnappers are in any of these albums. Now what?”
“We’ll need you to work with the sketch artist,” he said, his voice cool and impersonal.
As she was led away by another officer, Ranger, who’d been standing in the hall, went in to speak with Agent Harris. She would have given anything to be able to eavesdrop, but she was taken to a different part of the station.
RANGER SAT ACROSS the desk from Agent Harris, his own expression trained into polite neutrality.
“The drug they used on you is common-a generic tranquilizer used by many animal control departments.” Harris paused for a moment, cleared his throat, then continued in a methodical and thoughtful voice. “You heard enough of my questioning to know I’ve got some serious concerns about the motivations of our witness. Correct?”
Ranger nodded.
“I also have some questions about your connection to the medicine man. My gut tells me there’s more to it than you’ve said. Some of the officers around here know what that is, too, but no one’s talking.” He met Ranger’s gaze in an open challenge. “I may not know what’s going on yet, but I will find out. Why don’t you save us both some time and play it straight with me?”
Ranger shrugged. “The medicine man and I knew each other for many years. We were practically neighbors. I was there to give him a ride home after his conference with Ms. Seles.”
Harris shook his head. “Don’t try to sell me that. There’s more to you than meets the eye. You’re not just an auto mechanic for some hotshot race car driver.” He met Ranger’s gaze and held it. A minute stretched out. Finally Harris continued. “But since the right people trust you, you’re off the hot seat, for now. Dana Seles, on the other hand, is a real question mark. I don’t know if she’s been roped into a conspiracy, or was just caught in the middle, but she ties in one way or the other. You having a relationship with her?”
“Hardly. I met her for the first time less than a minute before I took a dart in the neck. The drug wore off in a hurry, and I followed some leads trying to find Hastiin Sani. I was about to check out that cabin when I ran into her, or she ran into me.”
“I have no evidence that contradicts her story, and she comes across as sincere, but I’ve got a feeling she’s holding back…or maybe she’s protecting someone.”
He nodded. “I got the same vibes.”
“Any chance she may have recognized one of the kidnappers, and had a reason to protect him?” Harris offered.
“She came awful close to shooting one of them in the dark, with no idea which one it was, so I doubt it. What kind of description did she give you of the perps?”
“A lot more detailed than the one the tribal detectives got from you. But they’re a match, so she wasn’t holding back on that.”
“That rules out your protection angle, doesn’t it?”
Harris glared at him and didn’t answer the question. “Right before you arrived at the station, I received a call from your tribal president. He spoke very highly of you, and suggested that I give you active status on this case.” The agent said nothing for a beat, then in a low, conspiratorial voice added, “Talk to me. Are you working undercover for the tribal police, or maybe another branch of law enforcement? Something off the books? I see you’ve got a concealed carry permit.”
“I drive expensive vehicles. You’ve already checked my background and found I’m an auto mechanic for the Birdsong racing team. Doesn’t that answer your question?” Ranger replied.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get more of an answer, Harris shrugged. “Since you’ve already dealt with Dana, and maybe saved her life, I’d like you to stick with her. You’re her bodyguard from this point on-if you’re willing. And if she gives you anything that’ll advance the investigation, I want to know immediately. Just to be clear, I don’t care how important you are to the tribe, I’ll still toss your butt in jail if you obstruct this investigation. Am I clear?”
“Pretty much.”
Ranger stood up. Let Harris assume whatever he wanted. He didn’t work for the FBI. He had his own job to complete.
> Almost as if reading his thoughts, Harris rested his fists on the surface of the desk and leaned over. “Listen to me, and listen good, Blueeyes. I don’t care who’s standing up for you. I’m going to close this case, the faster the better, so don’t even think of going cowboy on me. This is no time to make this a tribe-versus-the-FBI fiasco.”
“Remember who said that-you, not me, Agent Harris.”
“I won’t warn you twice.” Harris waved to the other officers in the outer room to join them, then in a show of unity, brought everyone up to date on what they had so far, minus the question of Dana’s involvement.
“The first twenty-fours of an investigation are crucial. I want everyone on this sharing information and working together. We should have some suspect sketches available soon, so everyone will need copies to distribute.”
Seeing Dana coming down the hall, he waved at her to approach. “Ms. Seles, for the time being you’ll need to have someone with you around the clock. Ranger Blueeyes served his country with distinction in the military, and he comes highly recommended from the highest tribal authority. He’ll be responsible for your security.”
Ranger looked at the agent. It was obvious Harris had done a thorough background check on him from the second he’d learned of his involvement. The FBI man was smart and Ranger sensed he’d have to be careful around him.
Dana looked at Harris then at Ranger. “Thanks, but no thanks. A bodyguard will be a disruption in my classroom and will upset the parents. Like all of you, I work for a living and have to teach on Monday. This weekend I’ll just be at home grading papers. If you want, you can put an officer outside in my driveway.”
Ranger gave her a surprised look. After what she’d been through, he’d expected her to demand one. Her actions only confirmed what he’d already sensed. There was more to Dana Seles than met the eye. His priority would be to uncover what she was so determined to keep a secret.
While Agent Harris briefed and questioned Dana again, now that the artist sketches were finished, Ranger walked outside. He needed time to think. Taking a trail behind the station he climbed atop the mesa that overlooked the northern side of the river valley.
In the silence, Ranger could feel his ties to the land. The reservation was as much a part of him as the blood that coursed through his veins. There, standing in the distance, was Shiprock, a silent sentinel perpetually guarding the moonlit desert below. History’s whispers echoed through every canyon and across every mesa. This was the Diné Tah, the home of the Navajo. First Man and First Woman had walked here and Monster Slayer had fought the creatures that preyed on the Navajo people. In this sometimes inhospitable land, The People had learned to endure.
Now, they’d need to draw on that strength. Soon, an age-old ritual would unfold. Once news of their leader’s death became known, warriors would begin reporting to the secret place, three each day, to make their identities known to Hastiin Dííl. The timetable, determined on the day of their induction, had one flaw. Initially, it had been a precaution against enemies who might find them all in one place and kill them. Yet the ancient rule didn’t take in to account that, today, people moved more quickly than in the days of the horse-drawn wagon. The brotherhood’s enemies could travel hundreds of miles in just a few hours.
In the days ahead, the brotherhood would be more vulnerable than it had been at any other time in recent memory. Hastiin Dííl would only be able to deploy the members he knew personally until the process came to an end.
He had to find out quickly what the woman knew. The very survival of the Brotherhood of Warriors could depend on it.
His cell phone rang and he answered it. Ranger recognized his brother’s voice immediately. “Hastiin Dííl is now our leader and I have your first order. You’re to do whatever is necessary to find our medicine man’s killers-quickly. If you decide that the woman has critical information, you’ll have to push her to get it.” There was a pause, then Hunter continued. “What does your gut tell you. Did she set him up?”
“I don’t think so, but she’s definitely hiding something-from me and from the FBI. Until I know for sure what that is, everything about her is open to question.”
“We should discuss tactics. You’ll have to pursue leads to Ignacio, even while you’re with her.”
“I’ll push everyone starting with Dana, then follow whatever paths open up. But I need freedom to operate. Don’t try to nail me down to plans and strategies. I don’t work that way.”
There was a tense silence then his brother spoke again. “All right. Your way then. But work fast, Wind.”
Ranger placed the phone back in his pocket. Gathering strength from the cool breeze sweeping across the mesa from the north, he climbed back down the path and returned to the station.
She was waiting outside Agent Harris’s office when he approached. “Where were you? I gave my car keys to a patrolman, who was going to pick up my car from school and see that it got home. But now that you’re my bodyguard, I couldn’t leave here until you got back.”
“I had something to attend to. Have you been waiting long?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. Agent Harris had a lot more questions. At least he finally knows I’m doing all I can to help him catch those men and that I’m on his side.”
Ranger knew the chances of Harris believing that were slim to none, but he didn’t argue the point.
“But you’ve still got questions about me,” she said after a thoughtful pause. “I can feel it every time you look at me.” She pursed her lips and glared at him. “So why are you sticking around, putting your life on the line for mine?”
“This is what I was asked to do.”
“I’m sure the FBI could find an off-duty officer to sit in my driveway and watch the house. All you have to do is say no,” she countered.
“The tribe needs me to do this.” He could see it on her face. She couldn’t quite understand the powerful bond between a Navajo and his tribe. Not that he blamed her for that. From what he’d seen, she had nothing to equate it to.
He didn’t know how people without strong cultural roots managed. They were alone in ways a Navajo never could be. Ranger had his family, extended relatives, his clan and linked clans-what Navajos called their “outfit.” In Dana’s case, since she’d lost both her parents and didn’t seem to have any other family around, she was completely on her own.
Ranger set aside his sympathy for her background and concentrated on the issues at hand. Where did her loyalties lie? He still wasn’t sure.
As they headed for the station’s doors, Ranger glanced over at her. “Did Harris tell you what he intends to do about Trujillo?”
“He said that without physical evidence that actually links Trujillo to the crime all he can do is find him and bring him in for questioning. He’ll also be talking to anyone associated with Ignacio, like neighbors, business contacts and such. He plans to put Trujillo under surveillance.”
She shook her head and expelled her breath in a hiss. “I thought they’d tap his various phones. But Agent Harris said they’d need a court order and without more evidence, they’d never get one. My information is nothing but hearsay because it was my friend who heard Trujillo ’s name mentioned, not me. Harris didn’t doubt me-it’s just not enough to get a warrant or make an arrest.”
Ranger nodded. The FBI had a lot of rules to follow. On the rez the Brotherhood of Warriors had more freedom, and was far more effective dealing with problems that often hog-tied official tribal law enforcement.
They were near the door when tribal detective Joe Nakai caught up to them. “I have one last question for you, ma’am. Before the shooting, did the medicine man mention anything to you about any…Navajo business?”
She remembered his name from the list and focused hard to keep her expression neutral. “Just that about Trujillo and his plans for more violence. I think he meant on the reservation, but I can’t say for sure.”
Detective Nakai nodded, then went back insid
e the station. Ranger watched him. It was clear to him that Joe had been referring to the Brotherhood of Warriors. Although he’d never seen Joe in their secret chamber, it didn’t mean anything. There were many members he’d never met.
“Once you take me back to my place, then what?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“I’ll stick close. Think of me as your second shadow.”
Chapter Five
“I really don’t believe this is necessary-a round-the-clock guard,” she said as Ranger’s pickup took the wide curve around the Hogback, a large rock formation visible for miles near the eastern borders of the Navajo Nation. Her home was less than ten minutes farther down the four-lane highway. “Those criminals have bigger problems than me right now. Law enforcement officers all over the Four Corners area are looking for them, and have a good idea what they look like. They realize that too, I’m sure, and are on their way to Mexico.”
“Not if they’re working for Trujillo. They’re probably laying low and listening to every piece of news they can get their hands on. Once they hear about your photographic memory, there’s no telling what’ll happen. You’re the only person alive who can make a positive ID,” he said in a quiet voice. “You’re more of a target now than you’ve ever been. Even if you have a gun at home for personal defense, you’ll have unguarded moments-like when you have to sleep. And you can’t take a weapon to school with you.”
Accepting those truths was hard and she lapsed into a long silence. The orderly, simple life she’d led up to now was suddenly history. To complicate matters even more, she’d promised her old friend that she’d find Hastiin Dííl, but that would be nearly impossible with Ranger breathing down her neck.
She stole a glance at him. Under different circumstances it would have been exciting to have Ranger around-in her house, her car, her life. Ranger was vibrantly sexy and temptingly male. Although she prided herself on being a levelheaded woman who could control her emotions, the tenderness he’d shown her while giving her comfort had awakened a yearning in her for something…more.
