“Good afternoon, Miss Ward. What can I do for you?” His warm voice was the most friendly she’d heard lately, and once again wondered if all the books, TV shows and movies were wrong when they showed the cops and the press at odds.
“Thanks for calling back, Lt. Wells. I’ve been given to understand by sources in the district office over here that Dylan Chaves is a person of interest in the Rufio Mendez case. I’d like your statement verifying it.” She waited for the answer, still unsure how she would feel if it were true.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you if you will confirm or deny. If it isn’t yet for public consumption, I won’t print it.”
“Chaves is cooperating fully with us. He remains a person of interest, but he is not a suspect. Now, who told you that?” He sounded mad. Even though she was pissed at Joe Hendricks, she hesitated to give his name. He could be in some kind of trouble over it. Still, she promised, and if Joe was doing things he shouldn’t, it was time he was called down for them.
“Joe Hendricks. He questioned me about Dylan’s whereabouts on Saturday.”
A short silence followed after Alex’s revelation, and then an expletive that made her blush, even though she’d heard it plenty of times and used it once or twice. It was the combination of it with Joe’s name that got to her. It seemed she was going to have help keeping him off her back now. She didn’t know whether to be glad of that or afraid she’d made an enemy.
“Miss Ward, please don’t print anything about Chaves. You could do him irreparable harm. Suspicion is an insidious thing.” Alex nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. How well she knew it! She wouldn’t print a word beyond the official statement waiting in her email folder, and she assured Lt. Wells of it.
“Thank you,” he said. No, Lt. Wells, thank you.
Alex’s heart was much lighter when the call ended. Dylan was in the clear, at least so far, and Joe would get his just reward. Her only question was, what the heck was he doing?
The next call came much later in the afternoon.
“Alex, I got a message you wanted me to call?” Dylan’s voice was breaking up. He must not be in town.
“Yes, I wanted to let you know something. Where are you?”
“What? …breaking up.”
“Where are you?” she repeated.
“Alex, can’t hear…you when…later.” The line went dead.
Frustrated, she clicked her phone to off and threw it over on her bed. She should be at work; the press release identifying the dead guy was waiting for her. Instead, she retrieved it from her home computer and got it ready, then filed it by email. Maybe Dad would give her an hour’s work credit, even though she still hadn’t done her weekly ad calls.
The statement read: “Pima County Sheriff, Dodge District. The body of a male found north of Dodge on Monday, July 7, has been positively identified as Rufio Mendez, a member of the Tohono O’odham Nation. Mr. Mendez died of exposure after being shot under unknown circumstances. An investigation is ongoing. Anyone having knowledge of Mendez’s whereabouts prior to or during the dates of June 12th through 24th is requested to contact Lt. John Wells of the Pima County Sheriff’s Department.”
No mention of Dylan, or of who identified the victim. No explanation of how the identification came about. Alex remembered Lt. Well’s words, ‘Chavez is cooperating fully with us.’ It didn’t match what Joe told her, but she was more inclined to believe Wells. Why? She’d known Joe for years, at least since she was in junior high school. He’d never given her any reason to doubt his veracity before.
Two other things stood out. Had it only been two weeks since Rufio’s body had been found? It felt like months. And the other—Rufio was Native? She could have sworn Dylan told her he was an illegal alien from Mexico. How had he made that mistake?
~~~
Dylan had rested on Sunday when he got home, a mass of aches and pains from the accident. The break in his right humerus was only hairline, thank goodness. It didn’t require reduction, only a removable cast. The doctor told him it should take about six to eight weeks to heal, and gave him some exercises to do on his own in lieu of physical therapy. Everywhere else hurt worse on Monday morning. From his football days, he knew the best way to treat bruises and aches was to move as much as he could stand to, and rest while applying alternating heat and cold when he needed to.
It didn’t occur to Dylan until he got back to the office from a patrol along the North Puerto Blanco Scenic Drive that anyone other than Ange and his supervisor would have worried about him on Saturday. However, he found a note from the receptionist that a reporter named Alexis Ward had tried to call him while he was out. Alex. It still boggled his mind she was a reporter, even if she only worked part-time for her dad. He didn’t think his long-suffering supervisor would be happy if he made a personal call during work hours, so he planned to call Alex on the way home. When he’d picked up his new cell phone in Tucson late on Saturday afternoon, the vendor had recommended a BlueTooth device after hearing what had happened to his original phone.
When Dylan couldn’t get the call through to Alex on his new phone, he sighed and resigned himself to calling when he got to town. He’d learned his lesson about searching for cell signal while driving. As soon as he got back to town on Monday, he made a beeline for the newspaper office, to learn Alex was working from home. Paul was out, so Dylan couldn’t ask him for permission to visit her there. He debated whether to call or go over, and opted for the safer of the two.
“Hey, Alex, it’s Dylan. Sorry about the call earlier. Ran out of signal.”
“I got that. Where are you now?” she replied.
“Sitting in the parking lot at your dad’s office. I need to talk to you, and I guess you wanted to talk to me. Want to meet me somewhere? Catch a burger again?”
“No way. The last time I was seen in public with you, I got an invitation to go down to the cop shop and be grilled for lunch,” she said. What the hell?
“What are you talking about, Alex?” Dylan caught on that their mutual friend Joe had made something of their date on Friday. But what did she mean by grilled?
“Look, I’ll meet you, or you can come to the house if you don’t park your pickup in front. Like, leave it around the corner and walk,” she said.
“I’m not in my pickup. No one will know what I’m driving. When can I come over?” It sounded like they needed to exchange information soonest.
“What do you mean, you’re not in your pickup? Why? What are you driving?” she asked. None of it was important right now.
“I’ll tell you when I get there. Can I come now?” Dylan looked around to see if anyone was observing him, making note of what he was driving. It felt silly, sneaking around in a town this size. He wanted to be true to his word, though.
“Yeah, come on over. Dad will be back in a little while—are you okay with that?”
Dylan took a deep breath. “I’m not sure he’ll be okay with it, but if he won’t blow my head off before I’ve had a chance to explain, I’m fine.” They hadn’t directly mentioned that night since he’d been back. Was it a mistake to do so now? After a longer pause than was comfortable, she answered.
“I’m pretty sure he won’t. Come on over.”
Dylan took the time to go home and change out of uniform, and then headed in Alex’s direction.
~~~
Dylan drove the familiar route, remembering. If nothing else, it was time to clear the air with Alex about what they were doing, whether there was a ‘them’ or not. Shit might be about to hit the fan over Rufio’s death, and he had a sick mother to deal with and two little boys who needed him more than anyone else did. It could be the worst time ever to rekindle a relationship, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know if she felt it, too.
Dylan didn’t anticipate trouble with the adoption, if they could catch Mom in a lucid moment and get her signature. Rufio was out of the picture. The only question might be how the tribe f
elt about it, but the boys had never lived on the res, and Dylan was at least half O’odham. It blew him away that Rufio was O’odham, too. He could have sworn the guy was an illegal, the way he acted.
He had to admit he was scared about raising the boys. He had no experience at being a father, obviously. His best bet was to find a good woman to be their mother and settle down, but was Alex the woman? He wanted her, no question. But she was only nineteen, and he had no idea whether she’d even want it. Bah, he was getting way ahead of himself. They weren’t to that point yet, may never be. He’d better slow down and let her take the lead.
The pain of going through the rational choice in his mind exceeded anything that was still hurting from the accident. That pain brought it home he’d been in denial about his feelings. Ever since his first sight of Alex in the desert, his subconscious had assumed they’d be together, in spite of the years apart. Too bad it didn’t get the message to his oh-so-rational conscious brain.
When Dylan pulled up in front of Alex’s house, it took all the will-power he had in him to get out and knock on the door. He didn’t want to have the conversation with Alex he’d just had with himself. Coward. That accusation from his inner voice was what got him moving.
Alex must have been watching for him through the window, because the door opened as he lifted his left fist to knock. She took his upraised arm and dragged him quickly into the house, slamming the door behind him and locking it.
“What did you do to your arm? And where’s your truck?” she demanded, before he’d even caught his breath.
“Broke ‘em.” She frowned, not understanding.
“Can we sit down? I’ve got a long story to tell you.”
“Same here. Come on, let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll get you some sweet tea,” she responded.
The memory of being in that kitchen, a welcome guest, nearly overwhelmed Dylan as he stepped into the familiar room. It hadn’t changed. The fixtures were the same oak, original to the house. With no mom in the house, there’d been no one to urge an update, he supposed. Even the scarred oak table was the same. The only difference was the girl who had occupied this space before was now a woman he’d give anything to be able to call his.
His earlier decision warred with his visceral response to the memory, and lost. Alex turned as he walked in and stood close. Less than a week ago, he’d kissed her like no one else existed, and she’d kissed him back. Only the rainstorm had kept him from taking her right there on the park bench. No, that wasn’t true. He’d been in control. But would he be, here, if he kissed her?
Unable to stop and apply reason, he stepped forward and started to take her in his arms. Pain shot through as he lifted the injured one and he let out a yelp. Alex jumped.
“Oh, your poor arm! Sit down, and tell me how you hurt it.”
~~~
Alex used the excuse of getting refreshments to settle herself down. She’d been eager to complain to Dylan about Joe’s treatment of her, and warn him Joe was looking for him. The look in his eyes as he’d stepped into the kitchen drove those thoughts from her mind. She had already swayed toward him, eager for the kiss that was obviously coming, when Dylan cried out in pain. She couldn’t help her startled reaction, but covered his embarrassment and her own by urging him to sit down. She scurried to get the sweet tea she’d offered, speaking over her shoulder.
“You go first. It’s obvious your story is more interesting than mine.” She set a glass in front of him and then sat down herself with another one.
Dylan grinned, making her heart clench with memory. That sweet smile always used to be meant just for her. How many girls must have seen it in the last four years? Dylan reached over and put his big hand over hers where it rested on the table, flooding her with warmth. The unexpected sensation caused a hitch in her breath. She picked up her tea and took an especially long swallow.
“Lexi, I barely know where to start.”
“Start with Rufio. Lt. Wells told me he’d been positively identified. How did that happen?”
“Okay. I was on my way to work early Saturday morning when Wells called me on my cell. They’d gotten a positive ID on Rufio, and he wanted me on hand to help tell my little brothers the news. You know he’s…was, their dad, right?” She nodded. “So, I turned around and headed for Tucson,” he went on.
“This is why you weren’t at work when Joe tried to find you there that morning.”
“Yeah. Wait, Hendricks was looking for me? Why?” She’d made him lose his train of thought.
“No, that can wait. Go on, finish your story.” Alex lifted her glass again for a sip, then wiped the condensation off her hand on her shorts.
“Um, where was I? Oh. Someone sideswiped me, west of Sells in the foothills. It made my truck flip and roll off the road,” he said. Alex’s hand flew to cover her mouth as she gasped.
“Is that…?”
“Yeah. It’s how I broke my arm. And totaled my truck,” he said. She winced. And that explained why he wasn’t driving it.
Alex listened without further interruption as Dylan described his climb back to the roadway, the ride to Sells in an ancient truck that just about bounced him to death. Then, being picked up by Lt. Wells and telling the little boys about their dad, followed by shopping for a new cell phone, getting his loaner vehicle from the insurance company, and deciding he’d had a long enough day to justify staying in Tucson that night. Her anxiety level shot into outer space when he described the wreck and the climb up the cliff with no safety equipment and a broken arm.
The one thing he still hadn’t explained was the positive ID for Rufio, so she asked.
“Oh,” he said, “I forgot. The cops got a judicial order to compare DNA, and it was positive. My hunch was right.”
Alex’s amateur investigator ears went on full alert. “What gave you that hunch, Dylan?” He didn’t seem to mind her question.
“Didn’t I tell you the other night? When I got home to Dodge and found my brothers gone, I started asking around. People he’d known, back before he left Mom, out at the casino, places I’d expect him to be. I got some answers that he’d been there, yesterday, last week, never on the day I asked. Then I started getting, ‘no, haven’t seen him’. Then, the body turned up. I wondered, is all. As soon as I learned they thought it was a homicide, I had a bad feeling.”
“That’s not much to go on,” she objected. “He could have been running from you, or just left town.”
“I didn’t say it was a strong hunch,” Dylan answered. “It was just a hunch. Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?”
After his story, hers didn’t seem so important. Still, there was something funny about the ID being made early on Saturday morning, and Joe calling her late that afternoon to tell her there’d been a tentative ID. It didn’t add up. She began to tell Dylan about her weekend.
When she was done, he was frowning. “I agree. There’s something very fishy going on with Joe.”
“I just don’t get what he’s up to.”
“I don’t either,” Dylan answered.
Dylan and Alex decided to call Lt. Wells, although she had already talked to him, to let him know about the weird timeline. Alex wanted to know if Joe had already known it was a positive ID before he questioned her. Dylan wanted to know why Joe had the idea he was a suspect. Alex had Wells on speed-dial, but he wasn’t available. They left a message for him to call one of them back.
They had exhausted their subject. There was nowhere to go until Wells got back to them, and Alex needed to get ready for school tomorrow. She hinted Dylan had other things to do, and he started to look uncomfortable.
“I thought your dad was going to be home soon?” he said, making it a question.
“I did too. Why, did you need to talk to him?” If Dylan was uncomfortable, so was Alex. She pulled her hand away from his, where he’d covered it again after the phone call.
“No, I need to say something to you. But I don’t want him walking in on the middle o
f it,” he said. Now Alex was really uncomfortable. The last time they hadn’t wanted Dad walking in, he did. She didn’t intend to be in that position again. She stood and took a step toward the living room.
“Dylan, it’s time to go.”
“Wait. Don’t say anything. I need to tell you some stuff.”
Alex closed her mouth, waiting for him to get it out.
“Lexi, ever since I started running into you around town, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve had to sort out feelings from logic. Feelings I still have for you,” he confessed, finally meeting her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, but he put his fingertips against her lips, sending bolts of electricity straight to her spine.
“I’m sorry, Lexi, I still can’t act on those feelings, as much as I want to. It’s complicated,” he continued. Her heart sank. She’d had the same questions running through her mind, and had finally come to the conclusion she’d like very much to get to know him again, now that they were both adults. More than get to know him. Get to know him. He wasn’t on the same page. Tears gathered in her eyes and she fought to keep them from spilling.
“I owe you an explanation,” he said, with her shaking her head. “Yes, I do. You know my mom is sick. She’s dying, and she doesn’t have long. Before she goes, I need to adopt my brothers so they won’t be raised by the system. I don’t know what kind of fallout Rufio’s death is going to bring, but judging from the way Joe treated you, it isn’t going to be pretty. You don’t need to be mixed up in any of it.”
Alex wanted to tell him it was all okay, she’d be there for him. The truth was, all that baggage was too heavy for her to pick up right then. She had school. She had plans. They didn’t include being the girlfriend of a single dad. That was just too much. That was the part he’d hidden from her, possibly from her dad. Or Dad had held it back. Dylan was right, and she agreed, but what came next contradicted everything.
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