Shifting Dreams

by Elizabeth Hunter

  He grunted and took a drink. “I hear you want to build a hotel out here.”

  Alex looked at him from the corner of his eye as the three men stared off into the distance. “I will build a hotel out here. It’s just a matter of time. It’ll be the talk of the desert. Very high-end.”

  “It true that Jena’s grandma is the one holding it up?” He drained half the bottle. Damn, it was hot outside. The sun couldn’t set fast enough.

  “Alma’s got some concerns, but nothing I can’t work around. I expect the town council to approve it by next month.”

  “That will certainly make things more exciting around here. More people, tourists coming in and out.”

  Ollie said, “Better business.”

  “Like you’re hurting for it,” Alex said.

  The man shrugged. “People like to drink.”

  Just then, Ollie’s attention was caught by movement on the edge of Jena’s house. It looked like Jena’s friend Allie and her husband were having an argument. Caleb glanced to see where the kids were, but they were all gathered at the large table on the edge of Jena’s yard, well out of the way of the arguing couple.

  Damn domestic calls. At least the kids weren’t around, though he could tell by Jena and Ted’s body language that the tension was palpable.

  Caleb was two seconds from starting toward them when Joe’s voice lifted, carried on the breeze that continued to blow.

  “—don’t even know why I bother with you!”

  An honest-to-goodness snarl erupted from Ollie’s throat and he started toward Jena’s place, but Joe had already hopped in the car and taken off, the dust spinning out behind him and covering his wife. Caleb could see Ted rushing to her friend as Jena corralled the kids into the house.

  “Ollie!” Alex yelled at his friend. “Don’t.”

  Caleb looked between the two men, conscious of some layers of history he wasn’t seeing between the group of friends. Ollie halted as he watched Joe’s car drive away from the house. Then his shoulders slumped a little. “I’m just going to check on Allie and the kids.”

  “Ollie—”

  “Not another word, Alex.” His voice was low, but it carried. Then Ollie continued walking, and Caleb heard Alex sigh.

  “So…” Caleb said. “That’s obviously complicated. Do I need to worry about the two of them?”

  “Joe and Allie or Joe and Ollie?”

  “Ha! Allie and…” He trailed off when he caught the unamused expression in Alex’s eyes. “I’m talking about Joe and Allie. I’m gonna trust your friend’s smart enough to not get in the middle of that.”

  Alex smirked. “Chief Gilbert, he’s been in the middle of that for years. But don’t worry about Joe. He’s nothing but talk. Everyone’s edgy this week.”

  “Oh?”

  Alex opened his mouth, then closed it before he mumbled, “Just something in the air.”

  There was that weird feeling at the back of his mind again, like he was supposed to remember something and couldn’t quite grab it. “Okay, but tell your friend that I noticed him, and he’d better calm down. If I get even a hint of something criminal, I’m not a good ol’ boy about it.”

  “I know.” Alex tossed his empty bottle into the trashcan by the door. “You’re a boy scout. That’s part of the reason I hired you.”

  “I thought the city hired me,” Caleb called as Alex walked away.

  The man’s only response was an arrogant laugh.

  Deputy McCann was edgy. The usually calm man was practically jumping out of his chair as they sat in the afternoon heat and killed time at the station. Caleb was studying maps of the area again. There were a ton of them for the surrounding desert. Old maps from mining companies, newer maps from various sources. Tribal maps. But there was startlingly little detail about the area immediately surrounding the Springs.

  Caleb frowned as Jeremy shuffled the papers in front of him. Then the man started tapping his foot.

  He took a slow breath.

  Do not kill the deputy, Caleb Gilbert. Do not kill the man.

  Maiming… maybe.

  If I just took off that right foot, he wouldn’t be able to tap—

  Jeremy’s chair suddenly scraped across the floor as he stood. Caleb could hear the gravel crunch in the driveway and he leaned around the divider, looking for who had pulled in.

  Hot damn, it was Jena and her boys.

  The little tornado named Aaron—or Bear—was the first through the door.

  “Hey, Cousin Jeremy! Where’s the jail part? Can I see? Mom said she needed to talk to you, so we could come too, ‘cause I wanted to see where the people get locked up. Hey, Chief Gilbert! Do you still like your little house? I told everyone at school that a policeman lives with us, but then Mrs. Strickle said that probably you didn’t live with us but just behind our house and her ears got really red! What makes people get red ears?”

  Caleb couldn’t contain his smile. “Maybe she had chili peppers for lunch.”

  Aaron decided this was the most hilarious thing in the world. He laughed his little head off, then proceeded to touch every single item of interest on Caleb’s desk, from the chunk of petrified rock to the wobbly hula girl the boys in Albuquerque had given him as an early retirement present. Caleb blinked in astonishment. How did Jena live with all that energy?

  Aaron continued chattering in the background as Jena and her older son slumped through the door. Well, Older Son slumped.

  Man, did he look like his mom. He had high cheekbones and a mop of dark brown hair that fell into his eyes. The boy was twelve? Thirteen? However old he was, the girls probably fell over themselves to catch his attention, but Low carried himself with the familiar world-weariness perfected by most adolescents. Caleb smiled and ignored him, turning his attention to Jena.

  “Hey all,” she said as she pulled off her sunglasses. She didn’t wear anything fancy, just an old pair of black aviators that looked a little scratched up. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and the wind had whipped it around so that pieces fell around her face. She looked perfect. And just like Jeremy, she seemed on edge. Aaron was bouncing around the room, even Low, as nonchalant as he tried to be, radiated concealed tension.

  What the hell was going on in this town? Maybe the wind out here did make you a little crazy after a while. It had been blowing steady for days.

  “Hey, Jena, what’s up?” Jeremy asked. “The boys just want to take a look at the station?”

  “They’ve been asking for a while—well, Bear has—but I had a question for you, if you have a minute.”

  Jeremy looked over to Caleb. “Chief, you mind?”

  “Naw.” He swung his legs out from under his desk and stood. Aaron immediately came to his side and pulled on his arm. “Why don’t I take shorty here back to see the cells? Low, you want to come, too?”

  The older boy shrugged, but Jena nudged his shoulder. “Go help with your brother. Make sure he doesn’t break anything.”

  He gave a small sigh and stood. Caleb led the two boys back to the conference room where Aaron quickly fell on the donuts.

  “Bear, not too many,” Low warned.

  Caleb waved a hand. “It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not. Mom’ll get pissed if he gets all wound up.”

  “You mean this isn’t wound up already?”

  “Nope. Normal Bear.”

  Aaron limited himself to one donut as Caleb showed him around and answered his questions.

  Did bad guys really get put into handcuffs? Usually.

  Would Caleb let Bear handcuff him? Definitely not.

  Where was his gun? In the holster at his waist.

  And the really big guns?

  He was relentless. And fun, Caleb had to admit that. Open, friendly. The complete opposite of his older brother.

  “So…” Caleb started. “You’re in fifth grade?”

  “Sixth.”

  “Ah.” Aaron climbed in the cell and crawled up the bed, clutching the edge of the
small window until he could peer out. “Wow, he’s like a monkey.”

  “You should see him on the jungle gym at school.”

  “There’s just one school in town, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s too small here to have more than one. Even the high school kids are on the same campus.”

  “Huh.” Silence again. “What’s your favorite class?”

  “Lunch. And you don’t have to do this, you know.” Low looked through the hair in his eyes, glancing up into Caleb’s face. The boy would be tall. Probably taller than Caleb, though he looked a little on the rangy side.

  “Do what?”

  “Act all friendly with me because you like my mom. I can tell. Everyone can tell.”

  Caleb smiled. “That obvious?”

  “That obnoxious. She doesn’t like it.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  Low’s chin lifted up. “Yeah, really. She doesn’t have time for people like you.”

  “What kind of people are those?” Caleb clamped down on his temper. It was no use letting the boy get the reaction he wanted. For a minute, Low seemed at a loss to explain himself.

  “Just… people who—who aren’t from around here. That’s all.”

  Caleb shrugged. He had a feeling this was more Low’s wishful thinking than anything else. “Well, I’m here now.”

  An angry light flared in Low’s eyes, and for a minute, the boy looked so much like his mother that he caught his breath. “Just leave her alone, all right?”

  Aaron bounced over. “Leave who alone?”

  Low shoved his brother in front of him and headed toward the front of the building. “No one, Bear. You see enough of the police station?” The boy’s voice had softened as he spoke to his brother.

  How long had his father been gone? Three years? Four? Important years for a boy. Years that he’d been, whether Jena realized it or not, the small man of the house. A small man who didn’t appreciate Caleb cutting in on his territory, as he saw it. It was something to think about. As he came through the door from the back, Jena’s low voice reached his ears.

  “—I just know she’s new in town. I don’t want to impose.”

  Jeremy seemed to be reassuring her. “It’s fine, Jena. Call her. I can almost guarantee it won’t be a—”

  “I wouldn’t even ask, but… well, you know.”

  “It’s fine. She gets it. Really, she does. And she really likes the boys. Just call her.”

  Jena grabbed him in a quick hug. “Thanks.” She pulled away and turned to look for the boys. “Hey, Bear! Was it cool?”

  “Totally cool, Mom. You gotta go look. There’s, like, this window, but it doesn’t have bars or anything. It has funny glass. And a cell—that has bars—and donuts!”

  Jena laughed. “I’ll go take a peek.”

  “Cousin Jeremy, can I see the big guns?”

  Caleb grinned as the barrage of questions focused on his deputy. Then he turned to Jena, motioning toward the door the door. “May I?”

  A glint came to her eye. Caleb liked that glint. A lot. “You may.”

  Something was different. He tried not to get his hopes up, but the nerves that had made Jeremy so jumpy all day seemed to be different coming off Jena. Caleb could feel the tension start to curl in his belly as he followed her in back, taking care to shut the door behind him.

  Jena looked around. “This is an old building. Adobe?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He watched her peek in the conference room, then the cells. She turned to him and grinned. “Did you really sleep back here before I rented you the trailer?”

  Caleb leaned against a wall. “I did. It wasn’t as bad as it looks. Very quiet.”

  She leaned against the opposite wall. “Pretty kinky, Chief. Sleeping in a jail cell.”

  “Is that an invitation?” He let his eyes run up and down, smiling when she began to laugh.

  “You’re shameless.”

  “I am. Persistent, too.”

  “I’ve noticed.” The energy coming off her was palpable. She felt like a live wire, even from across the room.

  “Why won’t you go out with me?”

  “Maybe you’re not asking the right questions.”

  “Is that so?”

  She shrugged. “You’ll figure it out. So, the boys liked it back here? Bear has been asking for days.”

  “He’s a live one. No wonder your legs are so sexy, running after that kid.”

  Jena smiled. “He does keep me on my toes. It doesn’t bother you that I have kids?”

  “No. I like kids. They’re fun and more honest than adults.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  He forced himself to lean against the wall. The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to run his fingers along her skin.

  Jena asked, “You don’t have any? Kids, I mean.”

  “My ex didn’t want any.”

  She paused. “That’s too bad.”

  “I thought so. But then, that’s part of the reason we’re not together anymore.”

  “What are the other reasons?”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. That’s more of a… third date, deep conversation over coffee kind of talk, Jena.”

  “Oh really?” She looked amused, but with an unmistakable edge of hunger in her eyes.

  “Yep, definitely third date material.”

  He had to touch her. Caleb pulled away from the wall and walked toward her slowly. If she wanted to leave, she could. But she didn’t move. Not even a muscle. The dry air sparked as he approached. He saw Jena take a deep breath as he leaned toward her. She smelled like dust and roses. A slight tang of salt from the sweat of the day. He licked his lips and saw her watching his tongue as it darted out.

  “Will you go out with me?”

  He could almost feel her heartbeat. It lay right under her skin, pulsing into the charged air around her.

  She whispered, “Maybe.”

  “Will you kiss me?”

  “Yes.”

  Caleb bent toward her, feeling her rapid breath against his lips. This was beyond fun now. There was something about her. Some puzzle begging to be solved. He leaned in a fraction of an inch. Another. Ducked in to flick his tongue against her full, lower lip, then he pulled back.

  It worked.

  Jena leaned forward, her body moving into his like a magnet. She pressed against him. Then her hands gripped his waistband and swung him around so his back was against the wall and she pressed her lips to his in a long, hard kiss. He kept his hands flat against the cold adobe walls to keep from grabbing her and focused on her mouth.

  Hot. Sweet. Better. It was better than he remembered, the taste of her now flavored by the woman he was beginning to know.

  Caleb’s mind was whirling when Jena pulled back, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth before she leaned in and whispered in his ear.

  “That was one of the right questions.”

  His dreams were frantic, but not for the reason Caleb would have hoped.

  He was running again, chased by some shadow that panted on the desert wind. He ran naked over dry washes and gullies, his legs torn by the claws of the tumbleweeds that dotted the barren landscape. A shadow passed overhead. A low growl before a cat screamed in the night.

  Where was he running?

  The old songs floated on the wind. A memory of his uncle’s frown and his grandmother’s laugh.

  Who was singing?

  And who was chasing him?

  Caleb was breathing hard and drenched when he sat up in bed. The full moon shone across his pillow, its bright glare lighting up the bedroom. In the distance he heard what sounded like wolves, and a coyote yipped close by. A rustling sound crept into the trailer from some small creature outside.

  Caleb blinked and looked at the clock by the bed.

  3:00 a.m.

  The wind whistled over his head. The desert was alive. So alive. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and stood, walking
to the small bathroom to splash water on his face. The moon was so bright, he didn’t even need to turn on the lights to move around, and though he knew he was in the middle of town, Caleb had the creeping feeling that he was completely and utterly alone.

  His phone rang, startling him so that he banged his knee on the doorjamb as he walked. It was on the table in the kitchen. The screen lit up with his deputy’s name across the top.

  Why was McCann calling at three in the morning?

  Just then, he felt it. The familiar rush of adrenaline absent for so many months he’d actually stopped counting. It cleared the sleep from his eyes and brought his senses to a razor’s edge in an instant. It pumped through his veins as he reached for the phone. He didn’t need more sleep. He didn’t need food or drink or company.

  He only needed this.

  Caleb spoke in a low, steady voice. “Detective Gilbert.”

  “Chief?”

  That’s right. Chief, not detective. Where was he?

  Desert. Supposed to be quiet. But it wasn’t quiet. No place was quiet. The coyotes yipped closer and the memory of old songs rose in the back of his mind.

  “Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?”

  “I need you out at the Crowe place.”

  “What?” He yelled it, immediately reaching for the gun that rested in the small cabinet over the fridge.

  “Not Jena, man!”

  “What the hell is going on, McCann? Make it quick.”

  He could hear the young man take a shaky breath. “It’s Alma Crowe, Chief. Something attacked her. She’s dead.”

  Chapter Nine

  Not real. Not real not real not real.

  But it was all so glaringly real. The minutes—sometimes hours—after she came out of a moon shift always put her on edge anyway. Her vision, achingly acute when in her hawk form, still caught every nuance. Light was brighter. Colors more vivid.

  The splayed form of her grandmother. Naked. Ready for a flight with her granddaughter.

  “We haven’t gone flying in months, Jena. See if you can find someone to watch the boys so we can go together next moon.”

  The claw marks that had slashed along her torso, warped and no longer recognizable as feline.