by Aimée Thurlo
Chapter Nineteen
Dana watched him work, questions racing through her head. At long last she spoke. “That’s some special software. How did you get it?”
“Friends,” he answered, his gaze never leaving the screen.
“These friends…are they part of the Brotherhood of Warriors?” she asked, then, to her horror, realized she’d spoken the question out loud. But it was too late to take it back now.
“What do you know about the brotherhood?” he asked, again not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Not much more than their name, and the fact that they stay in the shadows.”
“Then asking about it would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” he countered with a trace of a smile.
“Yeah.” There it was. That constant reminder that no matter how close they became, there would always be barriers between them.
“What’s bothering you-your secrets or mine? Nobody can know another person completely. In your heart, you already know all you need to.”
“Maybe so.” Loving a man like Ranger meant accepting that a part of him would always remain hidden…out of her reach. Yet the closeness her heart yearned for, the kind that would form a bond that could never be broken, would demand more from both of them.
“I got a hit,” he said suddenly. “One of the lodges near Stoner, Colorado, northeast of Dolores, recently rented a room to a guest named I. M. Finch.”
“I’ve been to that lodge a few times. It’s only an hour’s drive from here. So what now?”
“I know the lady who works the night desk…well, her sister. Let me call and see if the description is a match.”
Ranger dialed and after exchanging some pleasantries got the information. “It’s a match to the description we got from Xander Glint,” he told Dana. “Definitely worth the drive.”
“When do you plan to tell Agent Harris?” she asked, then reading his expression added, “You are planning on telling him, right?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to take a chance on losing this guy. Finch is the closest lead we’ve had to Trujillo so far, and the only reason we have it is because I cut corners. The FBI plays by the rules and that ties their hands. The first question Harris will ask me is how I got this information. If that happens, things will get complicated and it could end up costing us a very important lead. Will you trust me and let me handle this my way?”
In her heart, she longed to say yes, to agree totally and, for once, let go of all sense of responsibility. But she’d always followed her highest sense of justice, and this was no time to turn away from that. “How about a compromise, one that’ll keep us from obstructing the law?” she said at last. “You can wait awhile on Agent Harris, but sometime before we get there, one of us will make the call.”
“Deal.”
BY THE TIME THEY reached the resort it was nearly 3:00 a.m., and dark everywhere except for the river, which reflected the moonlight like a silver ribbon. They’d called Harris on the way, and Ranger knew that it was likely local law enforcement had beaten them there.
As Ranger turned onto the lane leading to the lodge, they heard a gunshot. Dana sat bolt upright in her seat.
Ranger took his pistol out of his belt and rested it on the cushion beside him as he raced up the graveled road. At the end of the pathway, he could see the lodge’s well-lit parking lot. A Montezuma County sheriff’s department cruiser was parked in front of a guest room.
Ranger pulled in slowly, alert for trouble. “The deputy’s door is open, but where is he?”
As they got closer Ranger spotted the downed officer on the gravel, his body hidden by the shade of the building. An instant later, they heard the roar of a car engine and the rattle of gravel. Dust flew up as a small sedan roared past them, heading down the long drive toward the highway.
Cursing, Ranger pulled up beside the downed officer’s car. “We can’t leave him. He’s injured,” he said, jumping out.
Seeing a light come on outside the lodge entrance, and a man sticking his head out the door, Ranger yelled out, “Call 911. An officer’s injured.”
“Okay,” came the response, and the man disappeared back inside.
Ranger bent down beside the officer, looking for signs of life and evidence of any wounds. There was a hole in the center of the deputy’s uniform shirt, but no blood. More lights came on as guests turned on porch lights and peered out their doors.
Then the officer stirred and sat up. “Man, that hurts!” he said, rubbing his chest.
Dana, who was looking over Ranger’s shoulder, gave the officer a big smile.
“Wearing a vest?” Ranger asked quickly.
“Yeah. Wife insists. Good thing. Did you get a look at the shooter?”
“No, but I’m going after him right now.” Ranger grabbed Dana’s hand, and ran back to his pickup.
Moments later, they were back on the highway. The dust cloud and skid marks showed the shooter had gone north at the junction, which would take him farther into the mountains.
Ranger made the turn smoothly, but the force yanked Dana sideways in her shoulder belt and she grabbed onto the seat.
“Those are his taillights,” Ranger said, accelerating even more. “Just hang on, we’ll catch him.”
Dana kept her eyes forward, concentrating on keeping the red taillights of Finch’s car in view. They were gaining ground.
“We’re chasing Marc Finch, right? Not somebody else who had a beef with the deputy?” she asked, her voice sounding a little high-pitched, even to herself. Although Ranger was an excellent driver, they were traveling at close to one hundred miles per hour.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Ranger replied, his eyes never leaving the road.
Ahead, she saw a triangular orange sign-a warning of a construction zone. The speeding car in front of them passed the spot, then began slowing rapidly.
When they reached a section of pavement that had been milled away, leaving small furrows lengthwise, Ranger cut his speed. It took an expert’s touch to just keep them in their lane, but the truck held its course.
They raced around a curve, and by then the fugitive was less than five car lengths ahead. He was wobbling badly back and forth in the center of the highway. Ranger touched the brakes, sensing they were closing in too fast.
“He’s either in trouble, or trying to keep us from passing him,” she said.
“He’s got two wheels on the high side, and two on the low, rough side. That’s making it hard for him to keep control of his car,” Ranger said. His headlights, the new extra-bright lamps, showed an object farther ahead, just beyond Finch’s car.
“Something’s on the road-a rock slide,” Dana said, leaning forward and gripping the dash.
The small sedan straddled the center line and Finch swerved back to the right, barely missing the loose rocks and debris. Suddenly there was a puff of smoke and pieces of his left rear tire flew back at them.
“Hang on!” Ranger called out. A chunk of rubber struck the windshield with a loud thump, then disappeared over the top of the car.
They zigged and zagged, the truck bouncing and skidding, but Ranger somehow kept them on the road. Dana’s eyes were glued on the car ahead. Then the sedan suddenly tumbled off the road and disappeared from sight.
Ranger slammed on the brakes, coming to a full stop. “Don’t move!” He put the truck in Reverse, backed up about fifty yards, then parked.
Ranger switched on the truck’s emergency flashers, then handed Dana his cell phone. “Try to get 911. I’m going down there,” he said, grabbing a large flashlight.
“I’ll follow you. I may be able to help.”
Dana contacted the local sheriff’s office, then inched down the steep mountain slope, using a smaller flashlight he’d kept on the console. The way was difficult and steep, but she took it slow, tracing Ranger’s route.
Finally she reached the car. It was upside down and nearly flat from the beating it had taken coming down the mountain side.
“I don’t see him anywhere and the driver’s door was ripped off.” Ranger shifted the beam to the area around the wreck, then stopped. “Found him.”
The light revealed Finch’s head, torso and right arm. The rest of his body was pinned beneath the vehicle, which reeked of gasoline.
“He was one of the kidnappers,” Dana said, fighting the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. “But we can’t let him die like this. We’ve got to get him away from the car before it catches on fire.”
Ranger moved in closer, then realized the man was already dead. Though his eyes were open, they registered nothing.
Ranger took a step back as a flash, then sparks, ignited around them. A flame appeared on the ground at the front of the car, then spread upward into the engine compartment in just a few seconds.
“A fire extinguisher. The one in your truck,” Dana yelled. Before she’d even finished speaking, there was a loud whoosh and a wave of pure heat slammed against her.
“He’s dead,” Ranger said, forcing her back. “Move farther away. The gas tank’s going to go.”
Dana pulled free. “We’ve got to do something.”
“He’s beyond help, but you’re not.” He pulled her back hard, away from the inferno. “It’s over,” Ranger said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
“Death is all we ever find!” Choking back sobs, Dana buried her head against his shoulder.
He held her tightly while she cried. Minutes passed, but he didn’t ease his hold until, exhausted, she stepped away. Before she could go far, he reached for her hand and pulled her back.
Ranger cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “We have made progress, Dana. We’re closing the net around Trujillo,” he said, then, in a soft but strong voice, added, “But more than that’s happening.”
He pointed to the clusters of fading yellow wildflowers still clinging to the hillside. “Open your eyes and you’ll see that even in sad times, there’s still beauty all around you. Life balances itself out, but you have to be open to the good it brings. If you look for the pattern, you’ll see that even evil has a purpose, and good is never far behind.”
Ranger bent down slowly and took her mouth in a kiss as gentle as a summer rain. She responded naturally to his tenderness, needing his love more than ever to balance against the violence that surrounded them.
At long last, hearing sirens in the distance, he eased his hold and took her hand. “Let’s climb back up to the top. An emergency crew will be here soon, so it’s time for us to move along quietly and quickly.”
“Like the wind,” she said as a cold night breeze swept down the mountain.
“If you’re willing to listen, Wind will whisper secrets to you. Wind can be your best friend-or your worst enemy.”
She looked down at the hand that held hers. It was exquisitely gentle at times…or deadly. In a soft voice, she answered, “You are Wind.”
Chapter Twenty
On the way back up to the highway, Ranger called the sheriff’s department and gave them a quick rundown of the accident. By the time they reached the road, a Montezuma County sheriff’s department vehicle was on the scene.
Ranger recognized the deputy as one of the warriors in the Brotherhood of Warriors, though he didn’t know his name. Once he approached, Ranger could read his name tag. “Officer Billie, what can I do for you?”
“Agent Harris of the FBI asked us to send you back to the tribal police station in Shiprock. You’re needed there. Follow me.”
“No escort’s needed. I know the way,” Ranger answered.
“Not my call. Agent Harris wants you there, pronto, and I’m going to clear the way for you to the state line. From there, a tribal officer will take over.”
As the officer walked back to his vehicle, Dana glanced at Ranger. “That didn’t sound good.”
“Maybe Harris has news for us,” he answered, not really counting on it. He knew Harris. The Bureau man had probably already learned about Finch and the accident, and needed someone to take the heat.
The drive into New Mexico, then back to Shiprock, took less time than the drive up, thanks to the escort and the fact that it was closer to dawn than midnight.
They stepped inside Agent Harris’s temporary field office two minutes after arriving at the Shiprock station.
Harris glowered at Ranger. “You didn’t give us much lead time, Blueeyes. You trying to jerk me around?”
“Situations change quickly sometimes,” Ranger replied in a detached voice. He didn’t want to volunteer any information, particularly because of the way he’d learned about Finch’s location.
“I’ve got an update for you,” Harris continued. “I’ve been on the phone for the past half hour, and we managed to squelch the story. No reports of Finch’s death will appear in the papers or on TV for now. The deputy he shot has been cleared by the paramedics and is now assisting at the scene. The sheriff is cooperating fully on this, even making up a cover story about the incident at the lodge. I don’t want Trujillo to know one of his players is down for the count. We may be able to play this to our advantage.”
“Even if the name isn’t reported, the accident will raise questions,” Dana pointed out.
“Nothing will appear in the papers except for a story about somebody stealing and torching a car.”
“The FBI can do that?” she asked, surprised.
He looked visibly annoyed. “We’re working in conjunction with another local agency that also has an interest in making sure the facts remain hidden for a few days. It’s all worked out. Anything else you need explained?”
She glared at him. “No need for sarcasm, Agent Harris.”
“You don’t want to see me with an attitude, Ms. Seles,” he growled. “But here’s a news flash for both of you,” he said steely-eyed. “This is my case. If I even dream that either of you is withholding evidence, you’ll find yourselves in jail before your next heartbeat. Got it?”
As they walked out, Dana glanced at Ranger, who looked a million miles away. “Squelching that story took more pull than a simple request from a local FBI agent, don’t you think?”
“Our medicine man’s death sent shock waves across the Navajo Nation. Important people have important friends,” he said. Before he could say anything more his cell phone rang. It was Maria Charley.
“Hey, Maria, I almost gave up on you,” he said. “You up already, huh?” He looked at his watch and saw it was 5:00 a.m. Ranger put her on the speaker, then held the phone between them so Dana could hear.
“I’ve got animals to feed and water, remember?” she said. “The good news is that I’ve got the information you asked me to get you. The brown uniform, remember?”
“What do you have?” Ranger answered.
“Trash collectors wear light brown, and our animal control officers wear a darker brown.”
“I need another favor,” Ranger said.
“I should have known,” Maria said with a belabored sigh. “What is it?”
“Find out if Ignacio Trujillo has dogs and, if so, what address is listed on the animal license.”
“That’ll take awhile. They don’t answer their phones before nine, and I’ll have to beg Claire, and send over fry bread or something. Claire responds well to food-type bribes,” Maria said. “I’ll cover the fry bread, but you’ll owe me dinner now.”
“Deal.”
It was still dark outside, and Dana was struggling to stay awake. Ranger saw her nodding off, then shift and sit up, trying to remain alert. “Feel free to lie back and catch some sleep,” he said.
“You’ve got to be dead tired, too. We both need to rest. Is there a safe place near here we can use to crash for a few hours?”
He thought about it for a moment. The mention of dogs had reminded him of his Shicheii, grandfather, who’d loved his companions. “The safest place I can think of is my grandfather’s old hogan. He died many years ago overseas. Nobody lives there now, but it’s a solid shelter and there�
�s no one around for miles.”
“Let’s go and, on the way, tell me why you asked Maria that question about the dogs.”
“Ignacio’s late brother had guard dogs around his place, and my guess is that Ignacio inherited them,” he answered. “Licenses are required, and Trujillo isn’t going to risk getting in trouble over such a small issue, so he probably did the paperwork. With luck, that’ll give us another address to check out.”
“If we do manage to track down where Trujillo ’s hiding out, I’ve got a plan that may help us get some evidence against him.” Seeing his interested look, she continued. “ Trujillo ’s paying his men in cash and that requires him to have large amounts handy. Right now, since he’s trying to stay under the radar, he’ll be depending on however much cash he has on hand instead of going to the bank. So what we need to do is separate Ignacio from his money. Steal it, or make it impossible somehow for him to get access to that cash.”
“That’ll be tricky, but I’ll sleep on it,” he said.
After driving south through Shiprock, he turned down a dirt track, then circled back east, skirting a big arroyo. Finally he parked the truck in front of the only structure visible for miles, an unusual-looking hogan at the base of a hillside.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around and trying to get a fix on their new location. Dawn was coming soon, giving Dana just enough light to orient herself.
“It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it?” But we’re not. There’s a trading post a few miles southwest of here, and we’re just a mile west of the highway. We made a big circle, nearly.”
Ranger took the wool blanket from behind the seat of the pickup, then led the way inside. “My grandfather performed many healing ceremonies here at one time.”
“He was a medicine man? A Singer?”
He nodded, looking around, a faraway look on his face. “He was one of our best. I used to sit right there,” he said, pointing with his lips, “while he told me the old stories about our gods and how our ceremonies came to be.” He paused for a long moment. “When it’s quiet, I can almost hear his voice.”
