by Delores Fossen, Rachel Lee, Carol Ericson, Tyler Anne Snell, Rita Herron
“Yes.” She tapped her head. “I memorized it—or at least the construction areas. There were other sections shaded in blue that were not yet earmarked for building. I think we should start there.”
Sam peered over the steering wheel out the window. “You’re going to know where to go from here without a compass, exact measurements and surveying equipment? We don’t even have light.”
“I have something better. The land has already been divided and marked. This open plot is all for show, for the ground-breaking, to make it look like this is the first time the developers are dipping into the land. Of course, it’s not.” She smacked the dashboard. “Drive forward. We’ll see posts with markings on them that indicate the different areas of the casino. The buffet restaurant is at the south end of the complex and beyond that? Wasteland.”
“I do have a compass in this truck, and we’ll head south.” He put the truck into gear and cranked the wheel to the left.
The truck went off the road, dipping and tipping along the desert floor. Neither Sam’s nor her rental would’ve been able to navigate this terrain.
She grabbed his forearm. “Stop. You see that post up ahead with the reflective lights?”
“Uh-huh. One of the markers?”
“Yeah. I’ll jump out and see what it says.” She reached into the back seat of the truck and yanked her backpack into her lap. She dug into the main compartment and pulled out her flashlight. “I’ll be right back.”
She launched from the truck and rushed to the post. The less time she spent out here with the snakes and scorpions, the better—and she didn’t mean the reptile and bug kind. Those she could handle.
She aimed her flashlight at the post, the beam picking out the letters. Then she scurried back to the truck and hopped in, panting just a little. “That’s the lobby and customer service area. As I recall from the map, we can keep following this outer edge to the buffet. Do you see the temporary fence along here?”
“Yeah, I’ll try not to veer into it and take it out.”
As the truck trundled along what would be the west side of the casino complex, Jolene sat forward in her seat, taking note of each signpost. Their cessation would signal the end of the planned structure.
Sam whistled. “This is going to be a big place.”
“Is that a post up ahead?” She squinted into the area flooded by the truck’s brights. “It looks shorter and thicker. Don’t hit it.”
“I’m not going to hit it.” He crept up to the post and threw the truck into Park. “Check it out.”
Once more, she slid from the truck, the wind whipping her hair as she approached and lit up the four squat posts. Her fingers traced over the letters, her heart thumping.
When she got back in the truck, she turned to face Sam. “This is it. Those posts indicate the end of the dining area and the end of the building.”
Sam tipped his head. “Then it’s no-man’s-land ahead.”
“Yep.”
“We’re close to the border. I guess that makes it easier for the Yaqui in Mexico to come across and work in the casino.”
“That’s the idea.” Jolene squashed down the niggling guilt she felt about the excitement the Yaqui on the other side of the border had about the coming project and their part in it.
“Yaqui land stretches right to the border and beyond, doesn’t it?”
“That’s why we need to be careful in your Border Patrol truck, Sam. Border Patrol has no jurisdiction at this border.”
“Don’t I know it. The map detailing the tunnels the cartel Las Moscas constructed along the border stopped short of Yaqui land.”
She rapped on the window. “This is definitely the shaded area on the map—the no-go zone for construction.”
“I wonder why.” Sam drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I think this is where we need to investigate.”
As she grabbed the door handle of the truck, Sam put his hand on her arm. “Is this the area where your father’s body was discovered?”
She nodded and pushed open the door.
The wind gusted, and she shielded her eyes against the grains of sand zinging through the air. Sam had left his headlights on, creating a lighted area.
With her head down, Jolene plowed through the sand toward the spot flooded with light. She studied the ground for anything unusual, any disruption to the plants or the rocks scattered about.
Sam had joined her, flicking his flashlight along the edge of the lighted region. “They haven’t done anything to this section yet.”
Scuffing along the ground, Jolene said, “You’d think they’d want to utilize the entire property, but I think they do plan on making a resort out of the place and this land figured into that.”
Sam jerked his head up. “Did you hear that noise?”
Jolene held her breath, cocking her head to one side. When the wind blasted, she could hear a whooshing sound and the sand pinging Sam’s truck, and when the wind died back down, the plaintive hoot of an owl echoed across the landscape.
“Nothing. What did you hear?”
“Thought I heard a buzzing sound.” He kicked at a rock. “At least there’s not much trash out here from the highway. Maybe the builders pick it up after a stiff breeze like tonight—just to keep on everyone’s good side.”
“They’re not on my good side.” Hands on her hips, Jolene scanned the ground, bit by bit, to the edge of the lighted area.
“I don’t see anything, do you?” Sam had already turned back toward the truck.
“Nothing that would scream graveyard, anyway.” She followed in his very large footsteps. “Keep going?”
“I want to continue to the border. See if it’s more of the same.”
When they both got into the truck, Sam put it into gear and eased it forward. “We don’t need to get stuck out here. That would be a lot for me to explain.”
The truck rumbled ahead, and Sam made a beeline for the border only he saw in his head. “It should be along here in less than a mile. They’re gonna have to make some accommodations for the people coming over from Mexico to work in the casino.”
They bounced along for a few more minutes before Sam slowed down and stopped. “Let’s take a look.”
As they stood outside the truck, Jolene asked, “Do you know where the border is?”
“It’s beyond that ridge. When the land officials drew these borders, they didn’t necessarily follow any geographic patterns—unless they could.”
Sam raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, more interested in the land beyond than the land below their feet.
Jolene aimed her flashlight at the ground, skimming it along the foliage. Every time the wind kicked up, flurries of sand danced in circles and bits of debris rolled along the desert floor.
Her light caught a piece of plastic or something that a Saguaro cactus had caught, and she crept toward it to peel it from the plant’s spines.
As she reached for it, a loud report buffeted her ears, followed by something whizzing past her head.
Sam shouted, “Get down. Someone’s shooting at us.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sam hit the ground and twisted around to locate Jolene, hunched down by a large cactus. He yelled at her as another gunshot blasted from the ridge, along with a flash of light. “Down! Flat on the ground. Get behind that cactus, if you can.”
He army-crawled toward her, shifting the binoculars onto his back and reaching for the weapon on his hip. Sand needled his eyes and slipped into his mouth as he made his way to Jolene.
Glass exploded as a bullet hit one of the truck’s headlights. Sam dug in faster to reach Jolene, half of her body behind the saguaro and her legs jutting out, exposed.
He wrapped a hand around her ankle and she squealed.
“It’s me. We’re gonna crawl back to the truck. Stay as low as
you can, burrow into the sand as much as possible. The shooters aren’t too bright. They already knocked out one of the headlights, giving them less visibility.”
He finally got his gun free, and he twisted his body, raised the weapon and shot out the other headlight. “There. They’re gonna have an even harder time taking aim at us.”
Placing himself between Jolene and the ridge, which was the source of the shooting, Sam crawled, using one elbow to propel himself while clutching his gun in the other hand.
They didn’t stop moving and Sam didn’t stop panting until they reached the truck. He’d left the doors open, so he half shoved, half lifted Jolene into the passenger seat. “Keep your head down. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, terrified, but unharmed.”
“Don’t shut your door until I’m in the truck. I don’t want to give them any sound to follow until I can gun this vehicle.” He slinked back to the ground and crawled underneath the truck to get to the other side.
The shooting had stopped, but he didn’t trust that the gunmen weren’t on their way to the truck right now to continue their assault.
As he pulled himself up, the buzzing sound he’d heard before grew louder, and Jolene yelped.
“It’s...it’s... There’s a drone, Sam. A drone is hovering above the truck.”
“Damn.” The drone glinted for a second, and then dipped out of view.
Sam hunched behind the wheel and said, “Shut your door now.”
They both slammed their doors at the same time and Sam cranked on the engine. As much as he wanted to floor it and get the hell out of there, he didn’t want to get stuck. He threw the gear into Reverse and eased on the gas pedal.
Even though he still had his head down, he didn’t have to worry about hitting anything out here...except maybe a cactus. The truck rolled back, and he applied more pressure to the accelerator. The wheels ran over something, and then he shifted into Drive and took off in the direction of the construction area and the access road.
Several seconds later, his head popped up and the dark landscape loomed in front of him. “I can’t see much without the headlights.”
Jolene answered in a muffled voice, “Can I come up for air now?”
“I think we’re okay.” He glanced in his rearview mirror and didn’t see anything coming—no light, no more gunfire. “We’re good.”
She straightened up, clutching her flashlight. “Do you have your flashlight? I can use both of them to shed a little light on our exit route.”
“It’s in my backpack, which I forgot is still on my back.” He leaned forward. “Can you get it?”
She tugged at the pack, and he released the steering wheel so she could pull it from his arms. She dug into it and retrieved his flashlight.
“Let me try this.” She rolled down her window and aimed both flashlights at the ground in front of the truck. “Does that help?”
“At least I won’t go plowing into a cactus. Are we almost out of no-man’s-land? We can follow the reflective posts back to the access road.”
“Shouldn’t be too much farther.” She reached out and tapped the side mirror with one of the flashlights. “Do you think they’ll come after us?”
“Doubt it. They know I’m armed, at any rate. Maybe that’ll be enough to keep them away unless they want to engage in a gun battle.”
“I should’ve brought Dad’s gun with me.”
“We don’t need any more bullets flying.” He jerked the steering wheel to the side. “Is that the edge of the casino?”
“Yeah, you’ve got this.”
Tense silence loomed in the truck as Sam navigated his way out of the construction area and back onto the access road. He glanced at Jolene’s ramrod-straight spine as she held the flashlights to help him navigate the terrain.
They both let out sighs when the truck tires gained purchase on the dirt road that would take them out to the highway. Once on the asphalt, Sam floored it and the truck lurched forward, eating up the road beneath them.
“Do you still need the flashlights?”
“I’m good. I know this section of the highway like the back of my hand.” He punched on the emergency lights. “Just for some extra visibility, although I don’t think we’ll meet many cars at this time of night.”
“I hope we don’t meet anyone.” She flicked off the flashlights and collapsed against the seat, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Is your neck still bothering you?”
“I think it’s just from holding my muscles so tight.” She wound her ponytail around her hand. “What happened back there—I mean besides the obvious?”
“Someone’s patrolling that area with a drone and I’m guessing that drone has a camera attached to it.”
“It’s not you guys?” She sucked in her bottom lip.
“We have drones on the border, but Yaqui land is off-limits to us.” He nudged her shoulder. “You know that. Your father was one of the most vocal voices against our patrolling that section of the border, partly because he didn’t feel the Yaqui needed any division between the Mexican tribe and the American tribe.”
“Yeah, that was Dad. He had an almost childlike faith in humanity—never mind that the Yaqui across the border weren’t all that interested in mingling with us.”
“They are now.” Sam swiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Maybe Wade accomplished with the casino what your father couldn’t accomplish without it.”
“You’re probably right.” She wedged her hands between her knees. “So, someone—not the Border Patrol—has drones on the border. Do you think it’s the builders? And do you think they caught us on camera?”
“It might be the developers, but if they have armed guys shooting at trespassers instead of calling the Sheriff’s Department, they’re not going to want to admit they’re the ones monitoring the drone footage.”
“So, you think that’s how they knew we were there? They were checking the video from the drone and saw us?” She brushed dust and sand from her jeans, and it settled in a fine layer on the truck mat. Stirring it with the toe of her boot, she said, “Sorry.”
“Yeah, I think I have bigger problems with this truck than a little sand on the floor.” Sam beeped the horn at a car coming at them in the other lane. The car honked back and flicked his lights on and off. “If the developers are the ones with the drones, their guys overreacted.”
“Unless they weren’t shooting to kill. Maybe they were just shooting to scare us off.”
“Every time you have a gun in your hand, there’s a chance someone’s going to end up dead, so that’s a stupid plan if that’s the case.” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, but he’d need to rinse with some water if he hoped to get the sand out of his teeth. “Or these shooters are not connected to the developer—and they’re watching that land for another reason.”
“You mean like there’s something buried there they don’t want anyone to find?”
“Maybe.” Sam screwed up his mouth and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “There was something about that terrain.”
Jolene slapped his arm. “Don’t do that with your mouth. It’s a bad habit.”
“One of many.” He banged his fist on the horn again as another car approached. “I’m going to have to take the back way into town to avoid rolling down Main Street with two busted headlights on my Border Patrol truck.”
“What are you going to tell them?”
“A half-truth.” He lifted one shoulder. He hated admitting to Jolene that he planned to tell a lie, even half of a lie. “I’ll tell them someone shot out the headlights, but I won’t tell them the circumstances. Because once I tell them the circumstances, my interest in that property is going to be common knowledge.”
“Don’t tell them...if you can get away with it, and you won’t get into any trouble.”
; “Lies always cause trouble, don’t they?” He ran a hand down the thigh of her dirty jeans. “Scared the hell out me when I realized someone was taking potshots at us. All I could think of was that I couldn’t lose you after I’d...we’d, after I’d seen you again.”
He snuck a peek at her profile, stony and mute, her lips pressed together.
He blew out a breath. “Anyway, I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“Me, too. I mean, I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
He’d take that. He swallowed, the grains of sand scratching his throat.
When he finally turned onto Jolene’s street, his shoulders dropped and he tried to roll out the tightness. They could’ve been killed out there.
He parked the truck behind her rental, and they dragged their stuff out, shaking the sand off in her driveway. The wind had settled, but a fat raindrop hit the back of his hand.
“Looks like the wind brought in another storm.”
Jolene folded her arms across her zipped-up hoodie and tilted her head back. “It’s a good thing we got here before the rain started. Driving with no headlights was bad enough but doing it on slick roads would’ve made it ten times worse.”
He followed her to the garage door, and she opened it using the keypad on the side. As it creaked open, Sam ducked under and returned her shovel to the corner.
Jolene jingled her keys as she walked up to the door that connected the garage to the house, Chip scratching and whining all the way. She unlocked the door and pressed her thumb against the control to close the garage.
“God, what a night.” Sam tossed his backpack onto the floor. “All that shooting made me crave Chinese. Do you want some leftovers?”
“Yeah, but I refuse to eat it cold, like you usually do.” She drew up close to him, practically touching her nose to his and his pulse jumped. She dabbed at his cheek with her fingertip. “You have a little dried blood there. Did the glass hit you?”
“Probably.” He scraped at the spot and winced at the stinging sensation.