by Aimée Thurlo
THEY ARRIVED AT THE RESTAURANT a full half hour later, parking across the street. As they passed through the restaurant’s small parking lot, Nick got a surprise. “This place caters to an exclusive clientele. There are no pickups anywhere. Everything is in the luxury car category. And they changed the name of the place, too.” He pointed to a sign above the discreet entrance. “It’s now The Indigo Horse.”
“This is definitely not the kind of place Owens would go to hire some hoods.”
“No. But this is where he might go for inside information on who to hire. People in power often play dirty,” Nick answered.
They walked into the foyer and were greeted by the maître d’ almost instantly. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you, sir, but may I see your membership card please?”
“Is that really needed?” Nick countered, with a grin, reaching for his wallet.
“I’m afraid so, sir.”
Seeing Tim and Ray Owens walking across the room following a waiter, Drew went with a spur-of-the-moment idea. “We’re supposed to meet Ray Owens and his stepson, Tim, for lunch, but you’re more than welcome to explain to Mr. Owens why we didn’t keep our appointment,” she said, then turned as if ready to leave.
“You should have told me right away that you were meeting with Mr. Owens,” the maître d’ said quickly. “Go right in.”
Drew grabbed Nick’s hand, then swept past the maitre d’. She had the strong feeling that the man was well acquainted with Owens’s temper and wanted to avoid a scene.
As soon as they were inside, Nick squeezed her hand. “You’re good under pressure.”
“Owens and Tim are here. I saw them from the foyer. But now I can’t find them.”
Nick took Drew’s arm and maneuvered her toward the bar. “I’ve got them. They’re at the table near the side exit. Right now, it looks like they’re having an argument.”
As they sat down, Nick positioned himself so he could watch their target from the reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Owens stood and walked to the far corner of the room, cell phone to his ear.
“This place doesn’t feel right to me,” Drew said, slowly.
“What do you mean?” Having learned to trust her intuition a bit more, Nick glanced around the room slowly. Very few people were actually dining, and the food looked more like take-out than the kind he’d expect from a restaurant with such expensive decor.
That’s when he saw three men step out from a back room. The door was attended by a burly waiter, and he controlled the flow, nodding to three other men at a table. They walked over, and the waiter let them in.
As they entered, Nick caught a glimpse of a wooden panel that blocked his view of the inner room. It was a screen, and Drew was right. The place had the smell of trouble, and not just from the tobacco that wafted through the open door. It was either a brothel or an illegal gambling operation.
Regretting having brought Drew, he looked back at Owens, who was on the move again. Instead of returning to the table where Tim waited, Owens suddenly slipped out the closest door. It was labeled a fire exit, and when opened, an alarm was supposed to go off, but none did.
Nick looked around, and to his surprise saw Travis inside the lobby, surveying the interior carefully.
For a split second their gazes met. No words had been spoken between them, but none were needed.
“Move. This place is about to be raided,” Nick said, whispering the words in Drew’s ear. “Head for the fire exit.”
Travis, possibly having already seen Owens slipping out, moved into the area subtly, to cover the exit.
On the spur of the moment, Nick stopped by the table where Tim Collins remained sitting, bottle of beer in hand. “I’m Detective Blacksheep, Tim. No time to explain. Just come with us.”
Drew gave Tim an encouraging smile.
An instant later someone yelled, “Police! This is a raid. Everyone stay where you are.”
Nick hurried them out the fire exit door his brother was now guarding, “I’ll explain later, bro,” he said, and slipped outside, taking Tim and Drew with him.
“Jeez, man, thanks,” Tim said. He then looked at Drew and smiled. “I remember you! You beat me out of that job in records.”
“How are you, Tim?” she said, quietly.
At Nick’s urging, they circled the block, then crossed the street to his Jeep.
“I owe you guys,” Tim said. “I’ve applied for another position over at city hall, in their documents-and-records office, and getting caught in a raid wouldn’t have looked so good on my resumé.”
“You’re a good person, Tim, but your stepdad’s in a world of trouble,” Drew said.
“Yeah? Good. I’m looking forward to the day when the police drag him out of the house and put him away for the rest of his miserable life. The way he treats my mom—he should be shot.”
“So you two don’t get along,” Nick said, turning in his seat so he could look at Tim directly.
“Not even close. He’s got a foul temper and a hard fist.”
“You two get into it often?” Nick asked.
“No way, man. I’m five foot two and weigh a hundred and thirty-five. He’s over six feet and has at least fifty pounds on me.”
“I helped you today, Tim, so how about returning the favor?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Have you heard about the problems Drew’s been having lately?”
“Sure. Ray said that Chief Franklin’s got you babysitting these days—his words, not mine.”
Nick’s expression grew stony. “Is that so?”
“Ray hates your guts and wants you fired. He put a lot of pressure on Chief Franklin, but Franklin has his own agenda. Getting you out of circulation was Franklin’s way of compromising with Ray. My stepfather backed off because he’s got other problems right now, but he’ll go after you again as soon as he can.”
Drew looked back down the street at the club. Officers were loading those under arrest into a white police van. Then she spotted a man standing next to a luxury sedan across the street from the club. “Isn’t that Ray?”
“That’s him,” Tim said. “He’s probably trying to figure out what happened to me. He’s a dirtbag, but he always seems to have luck on his side—or maybe he just has a sixth sense. He stepped out just before everything went crazy.”
Nick knew it had nothing to do with luck. Owens had received a phone call right before leaving. Something told him that Ray Owens had been tipped off about the raid, which meant he had an active source back at the station.
“If he sees me talking to you, he’ll go crazy and take it out on someone, probably my mother. I better split before he sees me inside your Jeep,” he said. “He knows what you drive.”
“Good luck,” Nick said.
“Thanks again, man.” Tim slipped out of the Jeep.
“Ray got a last-minute tip from someone at the station. That’s what you’re thinking, too, isn’t it?” Drew asked.
“Yeah, but I can’t prove anything without examining cell phone records, and I can’t get those without a warrant. So, for now, we’re not going to say a word about this. It’ll create division in the department, and I want to avoid that until I’ve got more to go on.”
“The other officers—they’re like your second family, aren’t they?”
“You could say that. We understand each other because we face the same job problems and frustrations every day.”
She nodded. “I remember how it was when Dad’s friends from the department came over. He was a totally different person around them. He’d go into the den to play pool, and he’d joke around and laugh. Around us, he rarely said more than five words at a sitting. I spent most of my time trying to interpret his quick smiles, his glares, or worst of all, his stony silences.”
“That must have been rough.”
“The hardest part was that I loved him dearly and I wanted him to like being with me, too.”
“His loss,” Nick said, gently
.
They hadn’t gone more than a few blocks when Nick’s cell phone rang. As he looked down at the caller ID, he grimaced. “Chief,” he said, answering.
“What the heck do you think you’re doing? I gave you one job, Detective Blacksheep, and it seems you can’t even do that without screwing up.”
Nick said nothing. It was better never to fill in the blanks until you knew exactly what you were up against.
“Don’t give me that silent routine. Did you think you were going to get away with this?” the chief bellowed.
Nick saw Drew cringe. Chief Franklin’s voice had been so loud, even she’d heard it.
“I know that for some inexplicable reason you took Ms. Simmons to The Indigo Horse,” he continued. “Care to explain?”
“I hadn’t been briefed that it was no longer just a restaurant. Ms. Simmons has been having a very hard time accepting our protection, so I thought a secure time-out was called for.”
“You thought wrong. And the next time you get a brilliant idea like that one, check with Captain Wright or my office. You could have made a complete mess of things if you’d been detained.”
“How’d you find out about this so quickly, Chief?” He suspected Ray Owens had ratted him out to his boss, and he wanted to gauge the chief’s reaction.
“With half a dozen officers conducting a raid, did you really think no one would recognize you?” he slammed back. “You’re walking on thin ice, Blacksheep.”
The next thing he heard was a dial tone.
“Do you think it was Chief Franklin who tipped off Owens?” Drew asked him. “Once he was in the clear, Owens could have called him back to tell him, hoping to finally get you fired.”
“It’s too soon to come to a conclusion like that.” He was about to say more when his phone rang again.
Nick identified himself and heard his brother’s voice at the other end. “Heads up, bro. Don’t go back to the house—at least not tonight.”
“Why?” Nick asked, instantly alert. “What happened?”
“I made a quick run back there before the raid. I knew I had a long afternoon ahead of me in booking, so I went by to get my vest and check on Crusher. When I got there, I heard him barking like crazy. I grabbed the rifle and took a walk around the area. That’s when I found two hikers about a quarter mile from our place armed with rifles. They said they were hunting a coyote that had killed their chickens, but they didn’t look like farmers to me. I waited until they took off.”
“Thanks for the warning, bro,” Nick said, then hung up.
Nick pulled off to the side of the road. “We need to find a secure hideout where no one can sneak up on us.”
“Another motel?”
He considered it for several long moments. “No. I have a better idea. There’s a place that’s not too far from here. Several agencies take turns using it as a safe house. The layout there helps make it secure. There’s a driveway at the front of the house and the back’s screened with coyote fencing, which is nearly impossible to scale without leaving a few body parts behind.”
“How do you know it’s not being used?”
“I don’t. But we can drive by and check things out. You game?”
“Absolutely.”
As she glanced down at the strong, scarred hands now gripping the wheel, she remembered what he’d told her about himself. Nick’s confidence was more than attitude. His assurance came from having been repeatedly tested by life. Nick was a great ally because he’d never give up. The only situation Nick saw as irreversible was death.
After a long drive meant to discourage anyone who might follow them, they drove up a gravel road.
“That’s it,” Nick said, pointing to a house ahead.
Nick reached the end of the lane and slowed down for a look at the blue-and-white address sign on the white rail fence. Above the address were the words Welcome To, which told knowledgeable officers that the residence wasn’t in use. Occupants were required to turn the sign around. The opposite side contained only the address.
“Okay, we’re good to go,” he said, parking toward the back, then leading her quickly up to the door.
“How are we getting inside? I would imagine that if we break in we’ll set off all kinds of alarms.”
“True, but I know the combination.”
“And it’s always the same? That doesn’t sound very smart.”
“It changes, but I know the formula.” He gave her an exasperated look. “Is there anything you don’t question?”
Nick keyed in the right combination, based upon the month and year, and led the way inside.
The second they entered, she scrunched up her nose. “Can we leave the door open for a bit and open up the windows? This place gives new meaning to the word stuffy.”
“You can prop open the backdoor for a while. The windows can’t be opened. They’re all fastened shut.”
She passed through the kitchen and into the living room. There was a tiny TV set on a card table, and four card table chairs scattered around. “Not exactly homey,” she said.
“It’s not meant to be. Wait here,” he said.
She watched him check out the other rooms, including the closets. He finally returned to the living room.
“All clear,” he said.
Nick never relaxed. Turning off the room light, he stood by the windows and studied the grounds.
“It’s time to unwind,” she said.
“Not for me.” He moved to another window and studied the area outside. Several minutes later, satisfied they were safe, he joined her. She was sitting on the floor with a cup of hot tea she’d made for herself from the supplies in the kitchen.
Nick pulled out one of the chairs and straddled it. “A place this roomy would have seemed like a palace to me once,” he said, his slow, steady gaze taking the room in.
“It’s a nice house, but it lacks…warmth,” she finished. “It needs furniture—and a woman’s touch.”
“I do, too,” he said, then laughed when she nearly choked.
TIME PASSED, AND AS the day surrendered to the night, they found a chessboard in a hall closet and played several games. Nick and she were well matched, but Nick called it quits after they’d each won two games. “It’s more balanced this way,” he said.
“Balance…you’ve mentioned that before. That’s an important part of Navajo teachings, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Navajos are taught that everything has two sides, and for there to be harmony, balance has to be achieved. Evil needs good to keep it in check, and good needs evil to remind it of its purpose. It’s that way with everything—day and night, even man and woman.”
“How does that apply to a man and a woman? A woman does not need a man to make it in the world, or vice versa.”
“What I spoke about doesn’t refer to an individual’s ability to face life’s challenges. It’s meant in a more universal sense. The Navajo Way teaches that harmony requires a woman’s promise and a man’s strength and power. Neither can walk in beauty without the other. There’s a story about First Man and First Woman that illustrates the point.”
Silence stretched out as he gathered his thoughts. When he continued at long last, his voice held an almost mystical, mesmerizing quality, reminiscent of an ancient storyteller, before the time of written language.
“In the beginning, First Man and First Woman had many arguments. One day, First Woman told First Man that women could get along just fine without men. First Man assured her that men didn’t need women either. So the men and women separated. Nothing went right after that, and every day things got worse. After many trials, they grew to understand that neither was complete without the other. Men and women each brought something unique to the relationship, and accepting the balance in that was part of walking in beauty.”
She sighed softly. “Your tribe’s culture gives you something tangible to hold on to, beliefs that can sustain you. You’re lucky to be part of that.”
“The Navaj
o Way makes sense even to those who aren’t Navajo, but too many in the Anglo world dismiss it as superstition without stopping to think about the deeper meaning of the lessons.”
“But where do you stand? I remember you once said that you’re a modernist?”
“That’s precisely what I am. I accept the wisdom of the old stories, but I prefer to rely on myself and deal with the here and now.”
“But an outlook like that limits you, too. The best things in life can’t be seen or touched—compassion, unselfishness, love. Or if you want to stick to the undeniable necessary—think of oxygen. You know you’re getting enough because you’re still standing there, but you can’t see oxygen.”
He smiled. “But if it wasn’t there, my lungs would be quick to tell me. It’s measurable and that’s good enough for me.”
TIME PASSED SLOWLY. The inactivity was getting to both of them, but the coffee he’d fixed for himself was finally kicking in. “I’m going to stay awake for a while longer. Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea, but I’m going to stay out here. If there’s trouble, I’ll know instantly and may be able to help you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is to me.”
Nick watched her stretch out, folding her arm and tucking it beneath her head to use as a pillow. He remained on guard by the window, standing to one side, motionless.
Minutes ticked by. Though his focus was on the area outside, he was aware of her. She wasn’t asleep. She was watching him every time he looked away.
“You’d be better off in the bed,” he said, without turning around.
“It won’t make any difference. My mind just won’t shut down. How did you know I wasn’t asleep?”
“Your breathing wasn’t regular enough.” But that wasn’t the complete answer. Sensing her interest in him had stirred his blood. Heat coursed through his veins, hardening him, urging him to forget duty—if only for a little while.
“There are no pillows in the bed or closet, but maybe this’ll help.” He stripped off his jacket and, bundling it up, placed it on the floor behind her.
“Thanks, but lack of a pillow is only part of my problem. After all that’s happened, I don’t trust the quiet.”
