by Aimée Thurlo
Jo dialed 911, reported the intruder, and was told to remain inside and leave her cell phone on. A tribal officer would be there as soon as possible. It was still dark, so she turned on the porch light and looked out at her truck, hoping it hadn’t been vandalized.
As she stood by the side of the window, she noticed car headlights down the lane. They weren’t moving. A chill enveloped her. Was the intruder waiting for her to come out now? But that didn’t make sense. He’d been in her room and could have done whatever he wanted then. Shaking, she tried to clear her thinking. She needed to update the tribal police.
“There’s a vehicle down the road, sitting there with the lights on,” she told the dispatcher.
“Stay inside, Jo. Our officer will check it out.”
“Okay, but hurry,” she said.
She remained behind the curtain as the minutes passed, watching the brightness of the lights down the road fade as the approaching dawn pulled back the darkness. She didn’t know what to do. Should she tell the police about the caller? They needed to know, but would she be risking her life by doing that?
After about five more minutes, she could see well enough to make out some details. Her heart started beating overtime as she realized the vehicle was a green pickup. From this distance, she couldn’t see anyone inside.
Jo lifted the phone to her ear. “It’s a green pickup, like the one burglars used when they tried to break into my trading post three days ago.”
“Stay calm and remain inside your home. A patrol officer is nearby and should be arriving soon,” the woman dispatcher said.
Jo hung up and, as she looked back toward the highway, saw flashing emergency lights. She reached for the door handle and dead bolt, then realized it was unlocked. He’d come in that way. Maybe the tribal police would be able to get the man’s fingerprints.
She’d go out the back door, but first she needed to put on some clothes.
Two minutes later, Jo was standing by the kitchen window, watching the tribal officer moving around by the green pickup. Her cell phone rang and she heard the dispatcher’s voice. “Ma’am, the officer would like you to walk over to meet him. Are you armed?”
“No, I don’t own a gun, though I’ll be buying one real soon. Why you asking?”
“Our officer just needed to know. Walk down the road to his vehicle, keep your hands visible, and make sure you identify yourself,” the dispatcher said. “Stay on the line until you get there, please. It’s for your own safety.”
Jo went out the back door and walked toward the green pickup and the tribal patrolman’s SUV.
The officer was standing atop the back bumper of the pickup, taking photos.
“I’m Josephine Buck, Officer,” she called out as she drew near. “Someone broke into my home. I called 911 and when I went to the window to check my truck, I spotted this pickup parked down here. Could it be the same truck involved in the burglary attempt on The Outpost last week?”
“Can’t say. I’ll have to check with county. But neither one of the two men inside this truck broke into your house tonight. Trust me.”
A sharp, all-too-familiar smell drifted in her direction. “They’re … dead?”
“Yeah, Don’t touch anything, but take a look and see if you recognize either of them.”
Jo peered over the side of the pickup bed, gagged, and almost threw up. She took a step back and fought the urge to run away as panic surged through her.
“You okay?”
Joe sucked in a breath, and tried not to cry. Bracing herself, she went to take another look. One man had been decapitated, and the head wasn’t in the bed of the truck. She gagged again. Trying not to vomit, she focused on the second man’s face. She didn’t know him, but he hadn’t had an easy death. Blood-caked stumps were all that remained of his fingers. His shirt was covered with dark, dried blood. From the condition of the bodies and the smell, she guessed they’d been dead for hours.
This was clearly a warning from the man who’d killed Tom. By coming here, he’d violated her own personal circle of safety, and let her know that no matter where she went, she’d never be out of his reach.
* * *
Jo returned home and answered a second officer’s questions. A crime scene van with more officers was down the road, dealing with the dead bodies. They’d found little evidence inside her house except for the money clip, and there were no fingerprints on it. The intruder had apparently worn gloves. The front door’s lock had been picked by an expert, too. She had intended to put more secure locks on, get an alarm guaranteed to wake her, and buy a gun. The Outpost would also get new keyed locks, and the combination changed on the keypad.
The one thing this latest incident told her for sure was that whoever had killed Tom still didn’t have what he wanted. The two mutilated men were probably part of the robbery team that had struck the day of the memorial service—at least based on their vehicle, but why they’d been killed still wasn’t clear.
After being assured that Detective Wells, who was working with the tribal officers down the road, would be given a copy of the report, Jo left the house via the old, bumpy back road and went in to work.
It was still early, but the trading post’s serene silence comforted her. She checked to make sure the shotgun was still in place and loaded, then went to her desk in the break room. From there she left a call on Mike Broome’s machine and called the locksmith. Finally she tackled the volumes of paperwork that awaited.
After a while, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand, Jo accessed the business account online. The balance there took her by complete surprise. The bank had made a mistake. According to them, a large amount of money had been transferred into the store account earlier.
The bank wouldn’t open for a few more hours, but the day began early at the trading post. Jo opened the doors, and Leigh Ann and Esther got busy while Jo went back to her office. She’d just sat down when she heard a knock. Glancing up, she saw Ben at her door.
“I’m going to the hardware distributor to pick up a few things Dad had on order,” he said. “I’ll be taking the Expedition. Is there anything else you want me to get while I’m there?”
“No, and be careful not to order anything extra without giving me a call first. Garrett’s always pushing those new pellet stoves,” she said.
“Don’t worry about cash reserves for now. You won’t have any money problems, at least not right away.”
She glanced back at him quickly. “Wait—what?”
“I had Mike Broome arrange a cash transfer from my inheritance into the trading post’s account earlier. It’s an advance, pending the partnership agreement. I figure that payment will protect my new investment.”
Leigh Ann walked in, and before Jo could thank Ben and warn him about what had happened last night, he was gone.
“I overheard,” Leigh Ann said. “So money’s one less thing you need to worry about now. Just be careful around Ben.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Heaven knows I’m the worst judge of character on the planet, but there’s just something about Ben.…”
“What?” Jo pressed.
“He’s done a complete about-face when it comes to the trading post and you,” Leigh Ann said. “He now also has what he wanted all along. It’s not just your business anymore—it’ll be his, too.”
As Jo thought about it, she couldn’t decide whether or not she’d been skillfully played, though what he’d said earlier about trusting his father and her had seemed real. All things considered, however, Leigh Ann had made a good point. Ben had been right there, ready to make his move.
“Either way, I didn’t have much of a choice, so it makes little difference,” Jo said, for her own benefit as well as Leigh Ann’s.
“I know, honey, and I’m not saying you could have done anything different. I just think you need to be careful when dealing with Ben. I see the way you look at him sometimes, but you’re not on a level playing field, you know? That’s one
guy who knows his way around women.”
Jo knew Leigh Ann’s advice was right on target, but it had been such a long time since she’d felt this alive. The attraction, the longing, the heat …
“Ben’s not an easy man to ignore,” Jo said. Danger was all around her now, yet the biggest threat of all lay inside herself.
* * *
The first big job of the day had been telling the rest of the staff about the break-in at her home the night before, and the gruesome discovery inside the green pickup. It took a while for everyone to settle down after that, particularly Ben, who’d been informed upon his return. He wanted to hire a guard to watch over her, but she’d refused. With the promised increased tribal police presence around her home, it wouldn’t be necessary. The man wouldn’t be back. After all, he’d already delivered his message.
Jo had warned them all to be careful at home and while on the road. They were already on high alert at the trading post, particularly after what had happened the other day.
What seemed to help most was activity and hard work, so they all remained busy. The locks were changed—a simple rekeying and reprogramming of the keypad code was all that was necessary. Meanwhile, the store inventory continued.
After closing, with everyone gone, Jo finally took a moment for herself. She went outside and walked around the parking lot for a bit, stretching her legs. It wasn’t dark enough yet for anyone to sneak up on her, so it was safe.
Standing alone, she stared at the dark outline of Tom’s home. She missed him so much. His absence had left a huge hole in her heart and in her life. So many were now looking to her to do the right things. There was no room for mistakes. Tears ran silently down her cheeks. If only she could be the woman she pretended to be—the one made of cold steel who always faced a challenge head-on, no doubts, no second-guesses.
As she remembered the bodies, a sight that would haunt her until her dying day, she felt her tremors begin. Jo reached inside the jish at her belt for the token and as she surrendered to its power, her breathing slowly became more rhythmic. Seconds passed, and feeling more in control, she closed the jish.
She was on her way back inside when she heard a big vehicle coming around to the rear parking lot. It was Ben in The Outpost’s Expedition.
“I’ve got a surprise for you!” Ben said, exiting the big white SUV.
She wiped her face with her hand, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying. “Time for the iron lady to surface,” she muttered under her breath as she went to meet him.
“I’ve got some state-of-the-art cameras for the trading post,” he said, reaching inside the rear door of the vehicle. The second and third row of seats had been removed long ago to create a large cargo area, and there were two big boxes inside.
“I thought it was time we had some of this stuff here,” he said. As his gaze focused on her face, he set the box back down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just out getting some fresh air,” she said. “Long day.”
“Either it’s the outside lighting, or you’re the palest Navajo I’ve seen in a long time.” He tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. “What’s going on?”
“I came out here to take a break, then I looked over and saw your dad’s house, sitting there, dark. It’s hard to accept that he’s really gone.”
“I know.” He tried to pull her into his arms, but she moved away, glanced back at the store, then at him.
“Everyone at the trading post looked up to your dad. There was no crisis he couldn’t handle. He was the owner, but he was also a leader. I try, but I don’t have the business skills he did,” she said in a weary voice.
“You’ve been doing this for, what, a week? Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing your best, and think about it, Jo. Even if The Outpost closes its doors, it won’t be the end of the world. People here will move on and eventually find new jobs,” he said.
“You don’t understand. Your dad used to say that The Outpost finds its own crew, people who need more than just a job. Are you really aware of what you’ve bought into? The trading post will tie you to this community in ways you never dreamed.”
“Those ties were always there, even though I spent a lot of years denying it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Let me show you something.”
After a quick search, he drew out a well-worn photo. The edges were bent and crinkled, and it was clear that it was a treasured memento.
Jo looked at the photo and suddenly smiled. “Your dad, you, and me after that district basketball tournament victory. We went to state that year.”
“There have been few perfect moments in my life, but that was one of them.”
“And you’ve carried this with you all this time?” she asked, surprised.
“We had each other’s back in those days, remember? My dad never could understand what you saw in me, but he thought you were darned near perfect and figured you were a good influence.”
“That’s not true. You were his son. I was just a kid you brought home.” Her eyes lingered on the photo. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw this away after we broke up.”
“I wanted to hate you, I really did, but deep down I knew you’d made the right move. I was bad news for everyone around me back then,” he said, his voice gravelly. “But those days are behind us. It’s time for us to stand together again. Whoever murdered my father isn’t through with the trading post yet.”
“Is that the real reason you’ve decided to become my business partner, so you can put yourself in the line of fire, too? Is this your way of facing down your father’s enemies?”
“You want to know the truth, but are you sure you can handle it?”
“I’ve never run from the truth. It’s lies I can’t stand.”
“Then here’s your answer.” He tilted her chin upward, and kissed her. His lips were tender at first, coaxing hers to open, but as the kiss deepened, fire blazed to life between them.
Feelings she’d kept bottled up for far too long came rushing to the surface, but this time she didn’t fight them. Instead, she surrendered to the sensations, wanting and needing more. Even if it was for only a few precious minutes, she wanted to stop being in control of herself … or of him.
She drank in his taste, wanting to memorize every detail, every feeling. She was desired by the man she wanted. That knowledge sent a thrill all through her. His roughness, that sign of needs barely kept leashed, enticed her. She wanted to love him and feel him go wild.
The heat became too intense much too fast. Suddenly afraid of who she’d become in his arms, she broke contact and stepped back.
“I care about you, Jo. I never stopped,” he said, breathing hard.
She swallowed, still tasting him, her body throbbing in deep and intimate places. No one else had ever been able to make her feel this way. She wanted to lose herself in that heat and those yearnings again.
“I…”
He placed a finger on her lips. “No, don’t say anything. You’ve already told me everything I needed to know.”
She struggled to even her breathing. Had she reacted too wildly? What had her kiss told him—or not told him?
As he reached for one of the boxes inside the back of the SUV, Jo shook free of those thoughts. She was seeing way too much in what had happened. She wouldn’t let longing and imagination trick her into believing it had been something more than just a kiss.
Clearing her throat, she reached out and touched his shoulder. “Ben, something else happened that you need to know about. Remember the money clip your father always carried in his pocket?”
* * *
Ben arrived to work early the following day. He hadn’t slept much, unable to get Jo off his mind. She’d been crying when he found her outside last night in the parking lot. Seeing her vulnerable and alone had made him crazy inside. No way he could have just walked away.
Then she told him about finding the silver money clip that had belonged to
his dad, something he was sure the intruder left for her to find. Someone wanted Jo scared, but whoever that was had now made a deadly enemy. He wouldn’t stop until he knew who was behind what was happening.
He’d always thought of Jo as the girl of steel, one who never let anything get to her. Yet seeing her standing there, tears in her eyes, made him realize that the face she put on for the world wasn’t who she was inside.
That knowledge had shaken him to the core and reminded him that no matter how strong you were, there were times you needed someone to lean on. He thought back to the incident in Afghanistan that had changed his life. The memory had become a shadow over his soul, something he’d never outrun.
Seeing Jo’s pickup parked in the back alongside an old Jeep, he pulled in an adjoining space. The loading dock door was locked, so he knocked and Leigh Ann let him in. She flashed him a smile, and wished him a cheery good morning in her Texas twang.
There was something familiar in her eyes. It was the same wary look he’d seen on the faces of the children who lived in the Afghani villages halfway across the world, the ones who’d seen too much for their years. He had a feeling that, like them, Leigh Ann was a survivor. Maybe someday he’d find out more about the monsters she’d battled.
Ben entered the short hall and went to the break room, still Jo’s office. Inside, she was surrounded by paperwork. He looked at her curiously for a moment, wondering how she’d spent the night alone in her home. Had she managed to get any sleep? Had she taken extra precautions?
“I’m okay, if that’s what you want to know,” she said, looking up. “I had the locks changed at home and an alarm installed that’s guaranteed to wake me up. Leigh Ann knew someone who took care of both for me, a former deputy with his own business. He also handled things here for me.” She gave him a new key to the trading post’s door, and the keypad code, written on an index card. “Here you go. You’ll need these.”
“Along the lines of security, if there’s nothing else you need me to do this morning, I’d like to hook up the surveillance cameras we carried in last night.”
