by Aimée Thurlo
“I know how hard it is to accept a senseless death, Laura. But no matter how it seems to you now, you will get through this.”
“We have to catch the man who terrorized her and brought on her heart attack. It’s the only way I’ll be able to live with what’s happened.”
“We’ll find him,” he said.
“I heard you on the phone last night talking to the police after the coroner declared the cause of death. Did the detective have any theories?” Laura asked.
“They believe it was a pair of thieves that have been targeting seniors from the center. The full story hasn’t been released, but apparently there were three other cases where seniors were terrorized in their own homes. The robbers would force them to reveal their bank account numbers and passwords, then one would keep the victim hostage while the other depleted the entire bank account through automatic tellers.”
“But anyone who’d watched Elena’s routine would know I’m home during the day.”
“I pointed that out and they told me that the daughter of one of the seniors was raped during one of the incidents. They like having family members there. It gives them added leverage. These guys, I’m told, strike after most people in the neighborhood have gone to work in the morning—always in broad daylight. Seniors are less guarded, and, from the evidence, these guys like the added rush of working a high-risk operation.”
“So what do we do now? Any ideas?”
“We let the police work their angle. For all we know, they’re right. But in the meantime, we’ll investigate the case using another approach. I thought we’d start by concentrating more on Al Baca. We visited his home and found that trap, remember? I’d like to talk to him next. Do you know where we can find him at this hour of the day?”
“He hasn’t had a job in months, but I can make a few guesses where he’s likely to be, based on things Elena told me.”
“Good. Your godmother didn’t trust or like him, and she had good instincts about people. I think this is a good lead to start with now.”
“Give me a chance to go home and change clothes. I’d rather be wearing slacks to the places we’ll be going.”
“No problem.”
“By the way, is it my imagination, or are you avoiding mentioning Elena’s name?”
“It’s the Navajo way.” Seeing that she wanted more of an explanation, he continued. “I was born and raised on the reservation. Although I left as soon as I could—there was nothing for me there except bad memories and poverty—our traditions stayed with me.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Our people believe that everyone and everything has two sides. When someone dies, the good in them merges with universal harmony, but the earthly side—all our lower tendencies—remains earthbound. To use the name of one who has passed is to call their chindi, the earthbound side of human nature, and no good can come of that.”
“Then out of respect to you, I’ll avoid using her name around you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know, but I’d like to do it.”
Burke nodded. The more he got to know Laura, the more he was drawn to her. In these days where the whole point of everything, from a business deal to an affair, seemed to be to dive in, get what you wanted, and then bail out, Laura Santos was nothing short of amazing.
“Laura? Could I speak with you a moment?”
She turned and noticed Ernest Martinez, Elena’s attorney, approaching. He had nodded to her earlier, and she had acknowledged his greeting with a silent thank-you. The stoop-shouldered old man had been Elena and her husband’s friend and attorney long before Laura was ever born, and she had expected him to be at the service.
“Thanks for being here, Mr. Martinez.” Laura introduced Burke to him, then waited for the old family friend to get to the point.
“I’m sorry to have to bring up this topic under these circumstances, but there are some things you need to know right away about Doña Elena’s estate, and the lawsuit filed by her brother-in-law.” Ernest spoke softly, his voice shaking with emotion and age.
Burke looked at him with speculation.
“I understand,” Laura replied. “You already know the difficulties we’ve been experiencing, and undoubtedly have heard about the police investigation into her death.” She looked to Burke, who nodded.
“Yes. That’s why I feel you should know, before all the legal matters begin, that Elena left all her estate to you alone. That means that Al Baca’s lawsuit will be thrown out, but it also means that if he’s going to contest the will, and I think it likely that he will, you’re going to become involved in this matter of the deed and all related business. You’re going to need to be very careful around Al, and you’re going to need an attorney.”
“I have an attorney who specializes in publishing matters, but this isn’t his area of expertise. Will you represent me on this, Mr. Martinez?”
“I certainly will. I just thought you should know what you’re getting into, young lady. But you’re in good hands with me, and I’m sure Mr. Silentman will be keeping you safe.” Ernest looked hard at Burke, who nodded.
Mr. Martinez took Laura’s hand. “If there’s anything you need, please call me. In the meantime I’ll be taking care of all the necessary paperwork concerning the transfer of property and other assets.”
Laura nodded. “Thanks again, Mr. Martinez. My godmother was wise to trust in your friendship.”
“And yours. I’m sure you and Burke here will be very successful in answering all those questions we have about what happened to the sweet lady. I’ll be in touch.” Mr. Martinez nodded to Burke, squeezed Laura’s hand gently, then walked away.
“Nice man. And he knows I work for Gray Wolf. I recognized his name as being connected to a previous client of ours.”
“Him I trust.” Laura nodded.
They climbed into Burke’s car, and he drove her home. Then he waited in the living room while she changed, noting that the scent of fresh paint had nearly disappeared. The workmen had finished their tasks yesterday afternoon at Laura’s insistence. It had been her way of distracting herself from her own thoughts, he suspected.
As he looked around, he wondered if she’d adapt well to life alone. But then again, he couldn’t see a woman as beautiful as Laura having any problem finding company. Men would trip over each other running to console her. The thought irritated him, and he pushed it aside.
A moment later, she came out wearing dark slacks and a loose fitting, ivory-colored cotton sweater. The clothes were not intended to be sexy, but on her, anything at all would look that way.
“I’m ready to go,” she said, grabbing her purse.
LAURA HAD ONLY KNOWN the bar by name, but Burke had recognized it instantly. It was the last place he would have wanted to take her—or anyone else not skilled in hand-to-hand combat.
He mentioned the bar’s reputation for fights and that it appealed to every lowlife around, but one look at her face assured him nothing short of tying her up would keep her from going in.
“You’ll need me to point Al out to you,” she said. “There are a lot of people who fit his general description—brown hair, medium build, brown eyes. I have to go.”
Burke yielded reluctantly. “We could wait and try to catch him at home.”
“No. Let’s finish what we started.”
He knew she needed to work the case—now more than ever. But he’d have to watch her like a hawk.
They arrived at the bar near the edge of town a little after four-thirty, but pickups and older model cars had already filled up most of the parking lot. The bar was an ugly, square, cinder block building painted either gray or black a long time ago, with an even uglier, faded sign that read Poker Face Bar.
“Okay, let’s go,” Burke said.
As soon as they walked inside, Laura was glad he was with her. The crowd was a rowdy one, comprised mostly of men and women in their later thirties and forties clad in jeans, Western-style shirts or T-shirts from concert tours, a
nd boots or athletic shoes. A few of the men wore baseball caps with team or company logos from businesses related to local trucking, or the oil and gas industry.
Laura stopped just inside the entrance, beside the grungy wall paneling, looking around for Al while her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. There were no windows.
She spotted him after a few minutes. The middle-aged man was leaning against the far wall, beer bottle in hand, watching a tall, hard-looking blond woman engaged in a game of darts.
Laura slipped through the gathering, turning sideways at times to avoid patrons who were watching the game and oblivious to her presence. Burke followed.
When she got close enough for conversation and called his name, Al looked up, surprised to see her. “What are you doing slumming in my neighborhood?”
“I need to talk to you about my godmother. Can we go outside where we can speak in private without having to shout?”
She saw his gaze shift to Burke, who was standing directly behind her. “Tell Elena to come talk to me herself,” he said, then looked back at the tall blonde with the darts.
Laura bit back her anger. “I think you should reconsider. You’re going to be very interested in what I have to say.”
Curiosity flickered in his eyes, then with a shrug, he took one last swig of beer, set the empty bottle down on the bar and followed her and Burke outside.
She felt better the moment they were out of the building. At least here the air wasn’t stale with the scent of liquor and cigarettes. And the silence was startling.
Al leaned back against the side of the building, scratching his arm absently. “The only thing I’ll ever want from Elena is the deed to the land that belonged to my brother and me. It’s mine and she knows it.”
“Her lawyer doesn’t agree, and neither will a judge.”
“If that’s all you came to say, then you’re wasting my time.” He turned and started to walk toward the entrance. “I’ll see her in court.”
“I don’t see how. Elena’s dead,” Laura said.
He stopped abruptly and turned around. His eyes were alive with calculation but there was no hint of sorrow there. “First I heard of it. When did she die?”
“Two days ago,” she answered. “Her funeral was earlier today.”
Al allowed the silence to stretch. “Well, I can’t say I’m sad to see her go. She was a self-righteous witch.”
“Show her some respect.” Laura’s voice cracked through the air like a whip, making Al look up in surprise. “We’re here to ask you a few hard questions, so think carefully before you answer. Someone has broken into my home several times recently, and we all know how eager you are to get your hands on that deed.” Laura paused and, never taking her eyes off him, added, “Also, you should know Elena died because her heart gave out during a kidnapping attempt right in front of our home.”
“Wait one minute,” he said quickly. “I had nothing to do with any break-ins or kidnapping or anything like that. There’s no way you can pin that stuff on me.”
“We tried to pay you a visit at your home a couple of days ago, and nearly ran into a very nasty surprise you left behind,” Burke said pointedly. “Who’s got you so afraid that you’re willing to risk killing some innocent kid who happens to wander in?”
“It was inside my home. I can do whatever I want there. Traps aren’t illegal.”
“Maybe so, but burglary and manslaughter are,” Burke said. “We all know you want the deed to that land, and that there was only one person keeping you from it.”
“I still want it, but I’m not guilty of burglary or kidnapping.” He looked at Laura. “But now that Elena is gone, that deed should come to me. It shouldn’t be yours, that’s for sure. My brother was nothing to you.”
“Her attorney, Ernest Martinez, says that I’ll inherit all her property. It’s in her will, apparently. I intend to see that you never get that deed. You made her life miserable and this will be your payback.”
“I’ll take you to court then. I’ll never give up fighting you on this.”
“Knock yourself out.” Laura turned and walked away.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Burke broke the silence between them. “You shouldn’t have told him about your godmother’s will. All you’ve done is turn yourself into his new target.”
“I can handle threatening phone calls, and I can afford Ernest Martinez. Al Baca picked on Elena because he sensed that her age and heart condition made her vulnerable. But he has no advantage over me. Besides, I’ve got friends—big friends—close by,” she added with a hint of a smile.
“And I will protect you, darling.”
The softly spoken words made a thrill race through her, but she pushed the feeling back. “What next?”
“I want to do a little more checking on Springer.”
“You don’t really think he’s involved, do you?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I want to check it out. But first I need time to make some phone calls and organize my thoughts.”
“I’m going to move back home today,” Laura said as they got under way. “It’s time for me to start getting used to living alone again.”
“You won’t be alone—not while the case is still open. That would be too dangerous, particularly after everything that has happened. These men are playing hardball and, if you’re by yourself, you’ll be easy prey.”
She paused, considering her options. “You know, if we work it right, my moving back home will give us the break we need. All we have to do is make it look as if I’m alone. If these people think I’m defenseless, they’ll come after me, and that’s the best way to catch whoever’s behind this mess.”
“Making yourself a target isn’t the answer. There are other ways to accomplish what we need to do.”
“Maybe, but so far we aren’t having much luck,” she said, disheartened.
“Investigations take time, Laura. Trying to speed things up usually ends up creating more problems than it solves.”
Truth be told, he knew how she felt. The impatience, the frustration—those were things he’d experienced himself. But what worried him most was her desire to make things happen.
When a client reached that stage, trouble always followed. That was why Burke had no intention of letting her out of his sight. Trouble found Laura too easily as it was. But one way or another, he would protect her. The woman had a piece of his heart, and he’d never let anything happen to her.
AFTER THEY ARRIVED at Laura’s place, Burke left her in the living room and stepped into the kitchen to call Handler. It didn’t take long for them to connect.
“I’ve got a problem,” Burke said. “I’m going to need some backup on this case. I’ve got two suspects I need to keep under surveillance.” Although Gray Wolf operatives normally worked alone, support operatives could be made available under special circumstances. Burke explained what had happened since his last report.
“So you want one of our operatives to keep an eye on Al Baca, the deceased’s brother-in-law, and another to concentrate on Laura Santos’s boyfriend-wannabe, Springer,” Handler verified. “Let me check our rosters.” There was a pause, then he continued, “I can spare only one operative, just barely. To give you backup, I’m going to have to take someone off a case. I’m sorry, but the way it shapes up, one man will have to split his time.”
“In that case, if at all possible, I’d like the job to be given to the operative code-named Wind. I’ve supervised his cases in the past, and he’s great with disguises. I can’t remember him ever losing a person he’s been assigned to tail.”
“You’re in a unique position. As the agency’s supervisor, you know the skills and talents of all our other operatives—a very rare privilege in an agency where, for security reasons, we seldom meet.”
Burke was well aware of the agency policy that dictated the investigators remain anonymous, even to each other, except under emergency situations. Their ability to go undercover, as well as their safety
, would have been compromised if those steps weren’t enforced. As an added precaution for the investigators who lived and worked in the same area, operatives were prohibited from actively trying to identify each other or fraternizing in public. That was meant to prevent anyone who knew one of them as a Gray Wolf investigator from identifying the others by checking on his associates.
The small tattoo normally hidden beneath their wristwatches carried the most risk, but in a crisis insured that an operative would know an ally immediately—without the need for an ID or explanation.
“That’s why I’m certain Wind’s the man for this job, unless he’s currently on another assignment and you’re supervising him yourself.”
“He’s doing preliminary work on a new case, so I can have another operative fill in for him on that part,” Handler answered. “I’ll get in touch with Wind today and get him on the job effective immediately.”
After hanging up, Burke took a few moments to himself. Fieldwork was always uncertain, no matter how experienced the investigator. Visceral reactions had to be tempered with knowledge and confidence. But the most important quality was having the guts to follow through—to see a case to its conclusion.
Love had never been part of the equation—until now.
He focused on the job, distancing himself from his feelings. His professional duty was clear. He had to keep Laura safe and catch whoever intended to harm her. For now, nothing was more important than that.
Chapter Eleven
When Burke went to join Laura, he found her in her office with Wolf, sitting in front of the computer. But she hadn’t bothered to switch it on.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek quickly with her hand. “I know I should push my feelings and thoughts aside until we find answers, but I can’t do it. It’s my fault Elena’s dead, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”