Navajo Justice

by Aimée Thurlo

  As they walked out minutes later, Burke looked at Laura. “He’s a very smart man. Without belaboring the point, he just warned me that if I violate our agreement, he’ll make sure word gets around that Gray Wolf Investigations can’t be trusted. Our reputation—and our business—would suffer irreparable harm.”

  “But we got what we wanted,” Laura said as she followed him out to the car. “So what now?”

  “I want to stop by my office at Gray Wolf Investigations. I’d like to get the name, address and telephone number of the translator who’s working on your foreign editions. But to do that, I’ll have to talk to Handler, my boss, and access our computer records there. Some things never leave the office database.”

  As Burke drove to the outskirts of town, he wondered what she’d think of the agency, or more to the point, Handler. That electronically altered voice often rattled people.

  For a moment, he considered taking her home, but then nixed the idea. She was safer with him. And the truth was, he wanted her to see his world and the part of his life no one else ever saw. That was, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly very important to him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They pulled up to a stark-looking warehouse on the eastern outskirts of Farmington. Burke parked near the side door and, with Wolf by him, walked over and pressed a small buzzer. The windowless metal door opened, and they went inside.

  They entered a small office area equipped with four overstuffed leather chairs and a large desk with a computer and multifunction copier. “Have a seat. I need a few minutes at my desk,” Burke said, sitting down behind it.

  “Mr. Silentman,” an electronically altered voice stated from a microphone in the corner near the ceiling, “I’m surprised to see you here today.”

  Burke turned in his chair to face the video camera attached on the opposite wall. “I’ve had some new developments,” he said, and filled Handler in about Foster and the other recent events. “What I’d like to do next is talk to the translator who’s been working on the foreign editions.”

  “I’ll have to clear it with him first. His agreement with us guarantees him anonymity unless there are extenuating circumstances,” Handler said. “But as of his last report, the first two novels he read seem to be a relatively accurate, but censored translation of the English original.”

  Laura looked at Burke. “I told you,” she mouthed.

  “He’ll keep at it, however, until all five books are checked out,” Handler said. “If he finds anything unusual, you’ll be notified immediately.”

  “I would still like a chance to speak to him. I want to get his impression on word usage and other subtleties, and possibly the editorial alterations. What we’re looking for may be an out-of-place phrase, a series of what appear to be typos, or a misspelled word or series of words that make up an anagram. I’d like to impress upon him that this might be more complex than a simple translation job, and I think it’ll help if I discuss this directly with him.”

  “Then I’ll clear it with him and let you know as soon as possible,” Handler answered. “Please upload the files you brought us from Mr. Foster into the computer.”

  “I’ll do it right now, sir.”

  The room grew silent as Burke began scanning pages into the computer. Laura came up to stand beside him.

  “Who’s Handler, and why all the secrecy with his voice?”

  “I don’t know the answer to either of those questions. All I can tell you is that he prefers to keep his identity hidden. Agency rules prohibit any operative from trying to learn who he is, too.”

  “How do you know he’s not a criminal on the run?”

  “Because of the backing this agency gets from law enforcement agencies—federal and local—whenever we need it. We even have access to several restricted databases. Handler has some serious high-level clearance.”

  “How many people work here?”

  “I’m honestly not sure. There are operatives and support personnel, but everyone, including me, works on a need-to-know. I have access to more information than most because my job is to coordinate the field operatives, but I’m restricted to certain areas of the business.”

  After he was finished scanning the information, he turned and faced the camera. “The papers have been scanned and uploaded.”

  “Our accountants will check everything out. We should have a report for you within twenty-four hours.”

  Burke signaled Wolf, who’d been lying on the cool concrete floor, and motioned Laura toward the door. “We’re finished here for now. Let’s return to your home.”

  Later, as they drove back, Laura glanced at Burke. “I’d be screaming with questions if I worked there.”

  Burke laughed. “Our investigators are people who, by profession, don’t trust anyone and don’t take things at face value. But here, everything about the operation assures you constantly that you’re on the side of the good guys. The work we do sets things right for people who wouldn’t have had a chance without us.”

  “And that’s why you stay?”

  “Every time we close a case I know I’ve played a part in restoring harmony and I can walk in beauty.”

  “You have nothing to atone for. You know that now, don’t you? You’re not to blame for what happened to Hoops.”

  “You, of all people, should know how some tragedies become a part of everything we are. The past guides our present. We can’t escape what came before—the only choice we have is how we use the experience.”

  When they pulled into her driveway, the senior center’s van was parked there at the curb, waiting. “This is an interesting surprise,” she said.

  Michael Enesco stood beside an elderly woman who sat in a motorized wheelchair.

  “Do you know her?” Burke asked.

  “That’s Shaunna Williams, the activities coordinator,” Laura said.

  Seeing them get out of Burke’s car, Shaunna waved. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want to give up and leave without talking to you.”

  “Come into the house. We’ll be more comfortable there.”

  Shaunna glanced back at Enesco. “Please wait for me here, Michael,” she said, then pushed a small lever on a control box, setting the battery-powered unit into motion.

  Burke helped maneuver Shaunna’s chair over the threshold, and they all entered the living room. Laura and Burke took a seat on the couch, and Shaunna took a position facing them.

  “Now tell me what we can do for you,” Laura said.

  Shaunna took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I worked at the center before the Maurers took over. I was a receptionist and clerk, working for minimum wage, though I’d been there for three years. But when the Maurers came on board they promoted me and made me activities coordinator. My handicap didn’t matter to them at all. They simply trusted me to do the job.” She looked at Burke, then at Laura. “The reason I’m telling you this is because I want you to know that they’re very good people. You’ve misjudged them completely if you think they’ve done something illegal.”

  “I’m not judging them,” Laura said. “I’m just looking into a few things.”

  “You’re investigating the center, trying to find a link to Miss Elena’s death, but you have no idea the harm you’re doing to the Maurers’ reputations. And without their good name, they won’t be as successful soliciting donations and raising funds to keep the center open. Between the police and you two asking to see our records and trying to find a connection between the thefts, things are growing increasingly difficult. The Maurers failed to get any more funds from sponsors recently because they’re underneath this cloud of suspicion.”

  “Then we all need to work together to clear this up quickly,” Laura answered.

  “But innuendo is destroying the center, don’t you see? And the seniors desperately need it to stay open. The elderly become invisible to the rest of the community. Many people are uncomfortable around older folks. There are dozens of labels attached to us—too slow, to
o grouchy, too feeble. The end result is that we’re isolated. We need a place that’s for us—one where there are no labels, only understanding from our own contemporaries. Friendships we can count on.”

  “You’re right about all that, but the investigation can’t be dropped until the truth comes out,” Laura said.

  “No matter what the cost?”

  Burke spoke at last. “What you have to remember is that the seniors have been victimized by robberies that happened in their own homes, and they deserve answers and justice. There’s a question of their safety, too. Do you understand?”

  Shaunna nodded slowly. “All right. I knew I couldn’t talk you out of dropping the case, but will you at least investigate more discreetly?”

  “We’ll do our best,” Burke answered.

  Shaunna Williams thumbed the lever on the wheelchair’s control box and made her way slowly toward the door. Burke moved ahead of her to help her get over the threshold again. “Thank you for taking time to listen,” she said.

  Laura watched from the window as Enesco met her and helped her into the van, using a power-lift platform.

  Burke had come up behind her, and when Laura turned around, her breasts brushed his chest. She heard him suck in his breath. His eyes were stormy with desire and, for a heartbeat, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  Burke stood his ground as need and desire slammed into him with the force of a speeding car. She made him crazy.

  In a moment of recklessness, he tangled his hand in her hair and drew her toward him.

  His kiss was like the man he was—hard and demanding. His tongue danced with hers until the blood rushing through his veins turned into a river of fire. He would have traded everything for the chance to take her again, to feel her come alive beneath him as he entered her body.

  He released her seconds later, before his control vanished. As it was, his breathing was harsh, and his body throbbed fiercely.

  Laura moved away from him. “I can’t play this game. I’m not yours and you’re not mine. All we’re doing is making it harder on ourselves when the time comes for us to move on.”

  Burke allowed her to walk away because he knew that his duty was to guard her, and he couldn’t do that while kissing her senseless. As she left the room, he remained still, waiting for the fires inside him to cool.

  “A man fights for what he wants, and I will fight for you,” he whispered in the emptiness of the room. “What’s between us is right, and one way or another, I’ll have to make a believer out of you.”

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they sat in Laura’s kitchen. She’d brewed some coffee for both of them, desperately needing something to do.

  The desire to give in to the torrent of feelings that had cascaded through her when Burke kissed her had been overwhelming. But fear made for caution. How could she forget that every relationship she’d ever had had failed? And Burke’s profession was a dangerous one. She couldn’t watch him leave every day, knowing he might not return.

  “She was sent here, you know,” Burke commented, interrupting her thoughts.

  It took her a moment to figure out what he was talking about. “You mean Shaunna?”

  “Yes. I’m certain the Maurers sent her, hoping she could persuade us to drop the case. The fact that they’re trying so hard could mean we’re getting close to something they don’t want us to know.”

  “Then I think we should go talk to Delbert Hutton. He was a really close friend of Elena’s, and he’s on the board of directors at the center. He might know more about the Maurers and their current associates.”

  “Do you have his address?”

  She shook her head, but went to the phone book and looked it up. “Got it. Let’s go.”

  Just then, Burke’s cell phone buzzed. He listened to the caller for a moment, exchanged a few words, then hung up. “It’s an associate of mine who has been keeping an eye on Springer. Since he’s been strictly business for the past day, my man is going to trail Al Baca for a while.”

  “Good. Maybe Ken finally got the message.”

  They drove to a large residence a few miles up La Plata Canyon on the western side of Farmington. Inside the walled property was a large two-story house, and beyond that, a small white cottage with a matching picket fence. “Mr. Hutton lives in the cottage, his daughter and her family in the house. He’s very independent, though he’s nearly ninety, so this arrangement suited everyone.”

  They found Mr. Hutton on his knees, gardening, beside the cottage. He glanced up, pushed his glasses into place and, recognizing Laura, smiled. “How wonderful to see you!” he said in greeting, standing up slowly and leaning on a cane. “Come into my house. We can talk there.”

  The two-room cottage was cozy and the walls were covered with photos, as were nearly every tabletop and shelf. He showed them to the kitchen area, then washed his hands in the sink.

  “Would you prefer iced tea or colas?” He waved them toward chairs around a small wooden table.

  “Whatever is easier,” Laura said. “Can I help?”

  A few minutes later they sat down around the kitchen table.

  “Now tell me why you’ve come. This is more than a social visit, isn’t it?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s about the center and what happened to my godmother.”

  His expression grim, Delbert leaned forward and placed his hands palms down on the table. “To tell you the truth, we’re all very worried. Everyone on the board of directors regrets that we didn’t keep closer tabs all along on what was going on there. We’ve been told that finances are a mess at the moment.”

  “I’ve heard the center’s having a financial crisis,” Laura said.

  He nodded slowly. “Apparently, Foster’s promised donation was critical. Now, on top of everything else, the police think the center’s involved somehow with the thefts the seniors have experienced.” He shook his head slowly. “If there have been improprieties of any kind, the members of the board are just as responsible as the Maurers, in my opinion. We didn’t pay enough attention to what was happening there.”

  “Tell me about Karl and Nicole. Do you think they’re on the up-and-up?” Burke asked.

  The elderly man hesitated. “I don’t know for certain, to be honest. They formed the corporation and handpicked each board member. Allowing someone to oversee your activities doesn’t sound like a good strategy when you intend to hide something, but you never know. We accepted because we knew that it would be easier for the center to solicit sponsors if there was a board on record, overseeing the operation. And, truth is, we all have a vested interest in having the center remain solvent. But now…well, I can tell you that we’ve decided to get more involved, and we’ve started by ordering a full audit of the books. It’ll begin next week, I’m told.”

  “Do you think it’s possible my godmother found out that the center’s funds were being misused, and that’s why there’s a financial crisis there?”

  “If Elena discovered something of that nature she’d have come directly to me. I was her friend. When she found out about the deal the Maurers were cutting with Foster, I was the first person she told, and I helped her organize things.”

  “Did the board look into the Maurers’ activities then?” Burke asked.

  “There was some talk about doing that, but, eventually, it fizzled out and nothing happened.” He shrugged. “The board’s main function has been to take care of disputes members have with management. We’re given financial reports every quarter, mind you, but they’ve always seemed to be in order, and aren’t very detailed.”

  “If you find out that there’s been illegal or criminal activity, would you call me and let me know? I’ll keep it confidential,” Laura said.

  He considered for a moment, then nodded. “I shouldn’t, but I will—for Elena’s sake. She would have wanted me to help you.”

  After saying goodbye, they started home. Lost in thought, Laura stared off into the distance as the day yielded slowly to night. “We’ve
been working practically nonstop for days now, but we still don’t have any real answers.”

  “We have some, just not enough.”

  “What part do you think your friend Douglas Begay plays in all this?”

  “I wish I knew,” Burke mused. “But my gut feeling is that once we answer that question, we’ll be able to see the whole picture clearly.”

  His cell phone rang, and he brought the unit out and flipped it open. “Silentman.” Listening for several seconds, he acknowledged the caller with a thanks, then disconnected, frowning.

  “Your contact?” Laura asked and, seeing him nod, added, “Is something wrong?”

  “Probably not. He just can’t find Al Baca right now, so he’s going to prowl the taverns on East Main near the Poker Face Bar to try and locate him. If that fails, he’s going to go by the fire station and check again on Springer.”

  Burke pulled into her driveway and parked. “On a much less serious note, I was thinking of getting a pizza for dinner. Are you up for it?”

  “Sounds fine. Delivery around here takes forever, so let’s go pick it up after I take a shower.”

  “No more bubble baths, huh?” His tone was light, but his eyes darkened and flashed with an eroticism all their own, and she knew he was recalling the night he’d interrupted her bath. A special awareness shimmered between them—his very essence calling to hers.

  A tremor shot through her, and he instinctively reached for her hand. “Are you okay?”

  Though it had only been a casual touch, heat flared between them.

  She drew away. “Let’s go inside. Wolf’s probably starving, right boy?” She glanced behind her and, without warning, Wolf leaned forward and licked her face with his wet tongue.

  “Aack!” Laughing, she jerked back, then scratched the dog’s head. “That’s some kiss.”