Restless Wind

by Aimée Thurlo

  He stepped over within arm’s reach. “See something you like? Nothing to be scared of,” he murmured, his eyes shadowed in the subdued light.

  “I was just…” For some crazy reason she couldn’t take her eyes off that gap in the towel.

  “Yes, what are you doing?”

  Her thinking became totally scrambled and she could have sworn she had a fever. “Hmm?”

  “Tell me what you’re looking for and maybe I can help,” he said, his voice smooth and mellow. “You’re all flushed. Something I can do?” he asked, stepping so close she could smell the fresh scent of the soap on his skin.

  Her mouth fell slightly open as the towel parted a few more inches.

  “You look like a woman who’s ready to be kissed,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

  Before she could recover, his mouth was on hers. She’d expected fire and urgency, but his lips were gentle and coaxing, not at all demanding or aggressive. His tenderness melted her resistance.

  Trembling in his arms, Dana gave him as much as he wanted to take. No one ever made her feel so wonderfully feminine. She ran her hand over his bare chest, loving the feel of him.

  He nibbled her lips, tasting her, prolonging their pleasure. When she sighed, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, then deepened the kiss.

  Need pounded through him. She was ripe for the taking. But he wanted more from her than mindless surrender. He wanted her to know what was happening between them, and choose him freely. Then he’d drive her wild and take everything she offered him. She’d remember what they’d shared then-remember him-for the rest of her days.

  That thought stopped him cold. He’d never felt that way in his life. He’d had many women, and he’d enjoyed giving them pleasure and taking it, too. But this…it wasn’t the same. His feelings for Dana…went deeper.

  Ranger eased his hold and gazed down on her. “Woman, you’re too tempting for your own good.”

  “So are you,” she answered, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace.

  He took a step back as well, and turned on the overhead room light. “What were you looking for in here?”

  “Oh…just…” She scrambled for an answer. “I was searching for…paper…to write with, you know?”

  “I’m aware of what paper’s used for,” he answered.

  She saw the dangerous flicker in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being lied to, and didn’t like it one bit. She couldn’t blame him. “A pad of paper, to be precise. I like to keep track of things.”

  “Used up all the pages in the notebook you have in your purse, huh? I think I saw a notepad on the shelf beneath the phone in the kitchen. Will that do?”

  She nodded. She’d seen it, too, and one look into his coal-black eyes told her he knew it. “But that’s there for a purpose. I didn’t want to take something they were currently using.”

  “That’s not a problem,” he said with eyes that sliced through her.

  As he walked out, she couldn’t help but take one last look at him. No matter what he was wearing-or almost wearing-he was the stuff dreams were made of.

  “There are some clothes in the bedroom closet-for men and women. Whatever’s in there that fits you, you’re welcome to take,” he called out to her as he went back into the bedroom.

  “Thanks, I’ll go look once you’re dressed,” she said, opting for caution.

  Her reaction to him made no sense at all. She’d met a lot of handsome, intelligent, eligible men over the years, but she’d never felt like this. Whenever Ranger was close her insides would hum with tension and her brain turned to instant mush. This just wasn’t like her, and it had to stop.

  Mentally using her best teacher’s voice on herself, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a cold drink. Dana walked back to the living room, forcing herself to relax, and her thoughts slowly cleared.

  Just then he came out of the bedroom, shirtless. “I’m going to crash for a while. Make yourself at home, but stay away from the windows and don’t step outside. If you hear anything unusual, come get me, though I’ll probably hear it before you do. I’m a very light sleeper. And should the phone ring, let me get it. There’s an extension in the bedroom.”

  “I’ll keep watch,” she said. “Rest easy.”

  Ranger went back into the bedroom and left the door open. While he rested she decided to turn on the small TV set in the living room, sound low, and catch the local morning news. There was coverage on the kidnapping and murder, but nothing new on the investigation.

  After twenty minutes she tiptoed down the hall and looked in on Ranger. He was lying on top of the covers, wearing jeans only, and his deep, slow breaths indicated he was asleep.

  Returning to the living room, she turned off the TV set and glanced around the room. There was something odd about this house. Maybe it was a safe house police agencies used to keep protected witnesses. It was possible, maybe even likely, that Ranger worked freelance for the tribe whenever they had someone who needed protection. That could have explained the carving on the door frame.

  On top of some books stacked horizontally at the end of the bookcase, Dana spotted a laptop computer. Taking it from the shelf, she moved to the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor before it. It had a wireless Internet connection, so that meant that the router was somewhere in the house, though she hadn’t seen one yet.

  After turning off the speakers, Dana tried to get past the desktop display so she could access programs, but she kept getting a request for a password. She tried the obvious, starting with the word password, the name of the highway outside, the house number, Farmington and FPD, for Farmington Police Department. Nothing worked. The computer remained in the same opening screen. She continued, using terms such as protect and serve, witness, felony, police and police officer. Again nothing.

  Dana sat back, rethinking her approach. She was missing something crucial. If this was intended for the use of whomever was scheduled to be at the house-in this case, Ranger Blueeyes-the password would be reset just for them. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in the name Blueeyes. After a short pause and a faint whirr from the hard drive, a new screen came up with the options to either log on to the Internet or search the files.

  She decided to search the text and database files first. She soon discovered that the information seemed to focus on the Navajo tribe and was geared for use by a Navajo police officer.

  Fortunately for her, she also wanted to know about Navajos-mostly one in particular, Hastiin Dííl. There were reports on various issues the tribe was facing, but nothing that concerned or pertained to a Hastiin Dííl, or anyone named Daniel Runningbear.

  Without another option, she decided to go on the Internet next. She could access more phone book listings from there. Using the phone itself would be too risky now. She logged on and, fortunately for her, the passwords for access had been stored in memory, so she didn’t have to try to guess her way any further.

  She started to type out Hastiin Dííl’s Anglo name, then stopped. This software usually stored a record of search words and sites visited, and she didn’t remember how to disable or erase that information. Not wanting to leave a trail, she decided an indirect search was best.

  Dana typed out the words Navajo medicine men. Hastiin Sani had been a medicine man, and men in his profession were highly regarded. It stood to reason that his successor in the Brotherhood of Warriors might be a medicine man, too. For all she knew, being a medicine man was one of the requirements for leadership.

  Her search was slow and time-consuming, but she kept at it, intent on finding something that would lead her to Hastiin Dííl. She found a wealth of information about medicine men in general, but nothing specific. If there was a listing for medicine men anywhere, like physicians in the phone book, she couldn’t find it.

  Dana was about to give up when she found a link to an article about medicine hogans. She went to the site and read the piece, written by an anthropologist, who explained
their different construction, like the fact that they were larger than other hogans and had no stovepipe in the center.

  She also learned that medicine men usually frequented trading posts in traditionalist areas where their services were in high demand. These trading posts were also known to carry the materials the medicine men needed for the various kinds of Sings.

  Unfortunately, this didn’t get her any closer to Hastiin Dííl, though the site’s map clearly delineated the more traditionalist sections of the rez. The problem was that the reservation itself was as large as several eastern states.

  Dana sat back, lost in thought. She needed to nail down a smaller search grid. Assuming that the medicine man lived close to the Four Corners, maybe she could start by finding out more about the last Blessingway done in their area. If Hastiin Dííl’s name was mentioned, that might at least confirm that she was right in looking for a Singer.

  Such events were often reported in the tribal newspaper. Dana was typing in the name of the newspaper when she heard footsteps down the hall and realized Ranger had woken up.

  Moving with lightning speed, she shut down the computer and put it back where she’d found it. Then, spotting a book placed end out farther down on the bookshelf, she pulled it out and ran to the couch.

  She was sitting back, pretending to be reading, when he sauntered in.

  Chapter Eight

  Ranger came in barefooted and bare-chested, wearing low-slung jeans. He looked completely relaxed and as drop-dead gorgeous as ever.

  “You didn’t sleep long,” she said casually.

  “I got nearly four hours,” he said with a shrug. “That’s all I need.”

  Dana looked at the clock in surprise. As it usually was whenever she was immersed in something, she’d lost all track of time.

  “What you been up to?”

  She shrugged. “I watched a little TV, then I decided to do a little light reading.”

  He picked up the book she held. “‘Medicine Men, A Navajo Perspective.’ That doesn’t seem like light reading to me.”

  It took everything in her not to react. She’d only given the shelves a cursory look after seeing mostly a collection of popular fiction. Yet it was entirely possible that the information she’d tried so hard to find was sitting on her lap.

  “I’m interested in all kinds of things,” she replied, hoping it didn’t sound as lame to him as it had to her.

  He went to the laptop computer and, touching it, glanced back at her. “Still warm. This computer’s encrypted. Did you try to get online?”

  “Yeah, but the password got in the way.”

  He studied her expression for a moment, probably just to see if she squirmed, then picked up the laptop and carried it over to the coffee table. He sat down in nearly the same spot she’d chosen.

  Ranger typed in a password and then another that took him to a screen she hadn’t seen before. After two more passwords that appeared as asterisks on the screen, he reached a very official-looking government site. It was blue, with a gold emblem and shield in the center, and she thought it might have been the FBI’s Web page. She moved closer to confirm, but he’d already reached yet another screen requesting a password.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Some creative information-gathering,” he said.

  “By hacking into…what, an FBI site?”

  “I assume you referring to my status as a ‘Full Blooded Indian,’” he answered. “Let’s see what’s new on the kidnapping suspects.” He paused for a minute, reading what was on the screen, then continued. “The body they took from the cabin is still being processed at the Albuquerque OMI’s office. They’re checking dental records. Since the victim was wearing a Four Corners area high school ring, that should speed up the ID process.”

  Hearing several rapid beeping tones, he suddenly disconnected.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I had to log off. I got access through a site that spoofs my Internet address, but they have new software that can eventually backtrack to this location. If I’d stayed on, they would have had me.”

  “Looks like you’ve learned to cut some corners,” she said. “So, assuming we aren’t raided by the feds anytime soon, what’s next on our schedule?”

  “We lay low. The police advised me to keep you under wraps,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Bad idea. Growing up with my mom, I learned a lot about survival. The first rule is never wait around for others to do something on your behalf. That’s a good way to become a victim.”

  Ranger gazed at her for a long time, then finally replied, “I understand what you’re saying but, in this case, you do have someone working on your behalf. Going proactive now will only put you in the line of fire.”

  “I’m already there. I’m the only one who can make a positive ID and the police still haven’t arrested any of the kidnappers.”

  Ranger took a deep, slow breath. “Putting myself in Ignacio Trujillo’s head, I’ve come up with an interesting theory. Want to hear it?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “Now that Ernesto’s dead, Ignacio will want to take over his brother’s business. But until he proves himself by avenging Ernesto, he won’t be able to command any respect. He has to succeed or he’s nowhere. This is more than a personal vendetta, so don’t underestimate the threat he still poses to you.”

  “That only emphasizes the point I was trying to make. I’m in his sights no matter what I do. And after he gets the information he thinks I might have, I’ll be of no further use to him.”

  “What kind of information would he be hoping to get from you?” he asked, pressing her. He was almost certain she’d heard Hastiin Sani give out names.

  “By now he knows how close the medicine man and I were. So, for starters, I’m sure he’ll want to know if he told me anything about the law enforcement officers who brought his brother down. He’s hot on their trail.”

  “You don’t have to worry about them. The officers who were involved in that operation have undoubtedly been informed of the danger,” he answered.

  “Maybe, but I remember reading that civilians were part of that case, too. They were never identified by name, even by the police, but I understand that they were responsible for supplying the evidence used to get the arrests. We have no way of warning them, and neither do the police if they don’t know their names. Something has to be done-quickly. Those people are in danger.”

  Dana made her argument sound as logical as possible. She had to find a way to get Ranger to agree to let her out in public. That was the only way she’d be able to find Hastiin Dííl.

  He considered it for a long moment. “We’d have better luck tackling that from a slightly different angle. Maybe you can help me ID the people currently working for Trujillo. They’d be the ones he’d call on to do his dirty work.”

  “The police wanted that from me, too, but I went through several books of mug shots and they weren’t there.”

  “We could visit a few bars-the type of places that attract people who need money and are willing to do whatever’s necessary to get it.”

  Ranger was playing things by ear. If he could get Dana to trust him more, he’d have a better chance of persuading her to stop holding out on him.

  “Good plan. If we get lucky, we may even end up running into one or two or his men,” she said.

  “Wait. Since some of them know what you look like, we’ll have to change our appearance. Or more to the point, you’ll have to change yours. I was only seen from a distance, and didn’t make the evening news-center stage-like you did,” he said with a tight-lipped grin. “Go through the stuff in the bedroom closet. You’ll find clothing, and wigs inside the boxes on the shelf. There’s makeup, too, on the dresser. See what kind of a disguise you can put together.”

  “This place is looking more and more like an undercover officer’s vacation home, or an actor’s retreat,” she said. When he didn’t comment she added, “And what will you be doing?”

&nb
sp; “I’m going to make a few phone calls and see if I can find out anything that might help us tonight.”

  As she went into the bedroom, her thoughts were racing. Ranger wasn’t just some ex-military racing-team mechanic who moonlighted guarding witnesses for the police. With the knowledge and equipment he was using, it was beginning to look more and more like he was a plainclothes policeman…or maybe even a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors. The fact that he knew Hastiin Sani well enough to mourn over his death suggested a close association. But she needed facts, not guesses. His name hadn’t been on the partial list she’d been shown.

  It would have made matters easier if she could have trusted Ranger and told him that what they had to do was find Hastiin Dííl. But she’d promised Hastiin Sani not to divulge the information he’d given her to anyone except Hastiin Dííl. And even if it hadn’t meant breaking her promise, it would have still been risky telling Ranger anything. There was no way to predict his reaction once he learned that she was in possession of names no Anglo was supposed to have, especially because she’d never be able to prove how she got that information now that her friend was dead.

  There were other reasons why that wouldn’t work, too. She had a feeling he still wasn’t totally convinced that she hadn’t set up Hastiin Sani. He’d never take her to see Hastiin Dííl under those circumstances. In fact, he might have taken steps to make sure she stayed as far away from Hastiin Dííl as possible.

  As those thoughts circled in her mind, she realized that there was also another serious problem with her trying to find the new Brotherhood of Warriors leader. She was currently Trujillo ’s target. If they were somehow followed, she’d be taking Hastiin Sani’s killers right to Hastiin Dííl’s doorstep.

  Of course she’d have a far better chance of going undetected if she traveled alone…but that wasn’t going to happen, at least for now. The best she could hope for was that Hastiin Dííl had already gone into hiding and was well beyond everyone’s reach.

  When she’d given her word to pass the names on to Hastiin Dííl, she’d had no idea how complicated that would become. The names, for now, would have to remain locked away in her mind.