Navajo Justice

by Aimée Thurlo

  “An agent…” she repeated quietly. The words hung in the air ominously.

  “Yes. With his skills at tailing people, breaking into homes, and behind the wheel, it’s obvious this guy’s a pro. And we’ve seen at least one other person with him when they tried to kidnap Elena, which means Enesco isn’t working alone.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING they went to the center. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Laura had psyched herself up to do whatever it took to get answers.

  “Enesco may know you saw his face,” she said. “The center’s van isn’t here, but Nicole and Karl’s vehicle is right over there.”

  “Let’s go talk to them and see what they have to say.”

  As they walked into the outer office, Nicole was behind one of the desks. Her face looked tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes. To Laura, the woman looked as if she’d aged ten years since the last time she’d seen her.

  “Where’s Enesco?” Burke said, his voice hard.

  Karl came out of his own office, which was adjacent. “I wish we knew,” he said amicably. “He hasn’t reported to work today and, what’s worse, he’s got our van.”

  “He’ll be back soon,” Nicole said wearily. “He does this every once in a while. I’ve warned him, but he just doesn’t seem to understand.”

  “So why haven’t you fired him?” Laura asked, more to see their reaction than because she really expected the truth.

  “He and I come from West Medias,” Nicole said. “I’ve spent most of my life here in the States, but I still have family over there. I know how hard it is for people when they first come to the U.S., particularly if they’re not fluent in English, and I felt sorry for him.”

  Burke stared at her, suddenly understanding why he hadn’t been able to turn up much on Nicole.

  “How long have you known Michael Enesco?” he pressed.

  “Not long. He came here looking for work a few weeks ago. We needed a driver, so I helped him get his chauffeur’s license and then gave him a job.”

  “We’re both very disappointed in him,” Karl said. “We’ve given him every possible chance to straighten out.”

  Burke placed his card in front of Nicole. “The moment you hear from him, call me. And don’t be surprised when the police come around.”

  “Has something happened?” Karl asked quickly.

  “He tried to run us down last time we saw him,” Burke answered evenly.

  Nicole paled visibly, but Karl’s expression remained guarded. “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “And he was driving a blue van.”

  “Ours is blue,” Karl conceded.

  “It’ll be a positive ID on the vehicle if it turns up with its windshield broken and a couple of bullet holes in the back panels. It’ll also have damage on the passenger side. He sideswiped my vehicle.”

  “If any of that turns out to be true, I’ll call the police,” Karl said. “I’ve had it with this guy.”

  Nicole still hadn’t said a word. Laura looked at her and, for a moment, thought the woman was about to be sick.

  Laura considered Nicole’s reaction as they headed back out to Burke’s car. “I wonder if she feels responsible for Enesco’s actions. If she was the one who hired him…” She slipped into the passenger’s seat. The door had been dented in, but it still worked, and the window hadn’t been broken.

  “The way they’re acting, I suspect Enesco may have something on Nicole, or maybe even on both of them. If he’s blackmailing them, they would have to put up with whatever he dished out.” Burke headed toward the agency to change vehicles. “Once we get to Gray Wolf, I’m going to find out if our bookkeeper has finished auditing the files I got from Foster. Then I want to go talk to the man who is translating your foreign editions.”

  He couldn’t win fighting blind and he knew it. This time—one way or another—he’d get the answers he needed.

  LAURA WATCHED BURKE as he faced the camera and spoke to the altered voice known only as Handler. Burke was self-confident and reserved, relating what had happened to them last night in detail, though he had already given a brief report hours ago. He stated his findings in a cool voice, totally in control of himself, and showing no trace of emotion.

  If she hadn’t known him as well as she did, she might have believed that this was the real Burke—someone impervious to anything life threw at him. But she could see past that now because she knew the man he kept hidden, the one who’d known pain so deep that he’d learned how to build barriers to shield himself.

  In that respect, they were the same, and that’s why they understood each other so well. But there was one major difference that would ultimately tear them apart. He thrived on danger—and she needed security.

  When the case was closed and he finally left, she wouldn’t try to stop him. It was wrong to hold on to what could never be. But there was no way around the heartbreak that lay ahead.

  “Our accountants have finished auditing the senior center’s accounts,” Handler said. “Foster has given us some very useful information. I also managed to pull some strings and get some additional data. You’ll find everything in that packet on top of the file cabinet.”

  Burke opened it and began to study the contents.

  “Right at the top, you’ll find a compilation of computer records our hacker managed to tap into,” Handler said. “They reveal something you might find helpful. As recently as last week, withdrawals for vaguely labeled expenditures like ‘supplies’ or ‘maintenance’ continued draining the center’s resources, each above and beyond the budgeted expenses in those categories. The increasing frequency of the withdrawals was what caught our attention, and the fact that almost all were cash withdrawals made and signed for by Nicole Maurer.”

  Somehow Laura wasn’t surprised, and she saw from Burke’s expression that he wasn’t, either.

  “Of course, this only furnishes you with a lead. We have nothing you can take to the police, despite the suggestion of embezzlement, because of the methods we used to get those records,” Handler said. “So what’s your next step?”

  “This case is complex. Things are happening on a variety of levels. Right now, I’d like to focus on Laura’s connection to the center’s staff especially regarding Enesco. And we still need to find out how Douglas Begay, our client, fits into all this. As soon as I switch cars, I’m going to go talk to the translator concerning the foreign editions of Laura’s novels. Those books may shed additional light on what’s been happening.”

  “All right,” Handler replied after a pause. “The professor should be at home now. He took the day off to complete the job.”

  Burke called to Wolf and, as they headed out to his replacement vehicle, a heavy SUV, both man and dog stayed ahead of Laura. “From now on, we can’t take anything for granted. When we leave a building, I’ll go first. You stay close, but behind me.”

  “So far they’ve come after both of us,” she reminded him. “You’re not any safer than I am.”

  “Yes, but it’s my job to protect you, and I intend to do that to the best of my ability. It’s what I’ve been trained for, remember?”

  “If there’s something in one of my books, what do you think it’ll be? I suppose a microdot could be planted inside, but wouldn’t there be other, more effective ways to smuggle out something like that?”

  “Yeah, you bet. Besides, Handler would have looked for something of that nature and spotted it right away. If there’s anything to be found, I think it’ll be subtler. I would expect Doug’s handiwork to be something along the lines of a phrase that doesn’t seem to belong there, but is really a coded message.”

  “You still haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  Burke shook his head. “But Doug can take care of himself. He’s as smart as they come.”

  Laura heard the trace of uncertainty beneath his words and fought the impulse to reach for Burke’s hand. Right now he needed to believe that his friend was fine. Of
fering him comfort would only remind him of the precarious position Doug was in, and undermine him.

  They drove in silence to the professor’s home, both lost in their own private thoughts. The drive was a pleasant one, and Wolf was obviously enjoying the extra room in the vehicle, which allowed him to lie down in the carpeted storage area behind the rear seat.

  The professor’s home was located in a quiet rural area east of Farmington where livestock clearly outnumbered people. It was late afternoon, probably close to feeding time, and horses rushed to the white-painted, welded-pipe fence as they entered a long, gravel driveway.

  “I’ve always wanted a place like this,” Burke admitted quietly.

  “With horses?”

  “The land, more than the horses, especially in the river valley, where you could have a well. You’re not living on top of your neighbors here. But then again, this is the sort of place that needs a family to fill it, and I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “My lifestyle, mostly.” Burke paused thoughtfully. “But, you know, maybe I should stop ruling things out. I’m a different man today than I was when I started working for Gray Wolf Investigations. Back then, I was never comfortable with the idea of settling down in any one place. That’s why I’ve always rented and never bought a home. But for the first time in my life, I’d really like a place of my own to call home.” He glanced at Wolf. “Maybe I’ll even get a pet dog.”

  “A toy poodle,” Laura suggested with a straight face.

  He burst out laughing. “Sure. Three days after they sprinkle salt where hell froze over.”

  Before long they were shown inside the professor’s home, a large, northern New Mexico style house with a steeply pitched, corrugated metal roof and blue wooden trim. Inside, comfortable-looking sofas and chairs graced the living room, and Navajo rugs accented the hardwood floors. Two large black-and-white cats wandered lazily around the room, and Wolf eyed them with interest, licking his chops from time to time.

  “Don’t even think it, furball,” Burke said, his voice low.

  Professor Milton DeWitt, a slender middle-aged man who had lost most of his hair, seemed all nervous energy as he checked out Burke’s credentials.

  Looking down at Wolf, and seeing the animal stare back intently, he suddenly stopped moving. “He won’t bother the cats…or anything else he’s not supposed to, will he?”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Professor. He’s exceptionally well trained,” Burke assured him.

  With a satisfied nod, Professor DeWitt led them quickly to his office, a large but cozy room with dark wood paneling, bookshelves and a massive desk. In the center of the desktop was a small but powerful computer and oversize scanner. “I was about to call your agency,” Dewitt said, sitting down in front of the machine. A foreign edition that Burke had taken from Laura stood propped up in a plastic holder beside the monitor.

  “This is quite amazing,” Dewitt muttered, studying a few sentences, then typing out a translation on screen.

  Laura looked over the professor’s shoulder at the monitor, read what was on the screen, then mouthed to Burke, “I didn’t write this.”

  The professor continued working for several more minutes. Burke didn’t interrupt him at first, but finally ran out of patience. “What have you got for us?” he asked at last.

  The professor jumped and looked around. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot you were there. But you see, this is such a remarkable discovery.”

  “What is?” Burke said, his voice hard.

  “The first two hundred pages held no surprises. But then, hidden in the middle, I found the personal journal of a West Median political prisoner believed to have died years ago. But these writings prove he’s still very much alive, because they allude to certain dates and events subsequent to his alleged death.”

  “So you’re saying that the book contains evidence that an important dissident is still alive?” Burke asked.

  “Yes, but it’s more than that. The journal is of incredible importance, because of the information it contains about the prison system there and the existence of a holding facility no one in the West knew about—one where people ‘disappear,’ never to be heard of again. I doubt even the CIA knows for certain that this prison exists. If these pages are taken to the proper international authorities, an incredible amount of pressure could be brought upon the West Median government to free this man and others who are there with him.”

  “How can you be so certain that it’s genuine?”

  “I verified some of the facts, such as the whereabouts of people mentioned in the journal and the timing of certain events. Also, this man published papers prior to his incarceration, and the writing style, certain phrases and even misspellings match. Of course, the method used to get this out of West Media also should support the claim that it’s legitimate. To smuggle writings of this nature out of a prison like that one, then out of the country in this particular manner, means that lives were risked all the way down the line.”

  “Someone sure wants it back, too,” Laura added, thinking of Michael Enesco and all he’d apparently done to try and locate it.

  Burke thought about it awhile before speaking again. “Professor, I’m going to have Gray Wolf send someone to escort you to a safer place, where you can translate the rest of the journal without having to worry about anyone interfering with your work.”

  “I’m safe enough here. No one knows I have it.”

  “There’s always the slim possibility that someone followed us today. Though I doubt it, something this important demands we take precautions.”

  “All right. But what about my family?”

  “We’ll arrange security for them, too.”

  After Burke had made all the arrangements, forcing Handler to pull Gray Wolf operatives off ongoing cases, he checked out the property, then joined Laura on the patio. “We’ll stay here until more help arrives. But that shouldn’t be long,” he said.

  “Something just occurred to me,” she murmured. “From the tactics they used when they broke into my home, I don’t think Enesco and his people know what form the journal took when it was smuggled out. If they’d known that, they would have stolen those foreign editions the first time they broke in. They obviously didn’t have time to read the books or skim them far enough to find that section.”

  “Good point.”

  “That gives us at least a marginal advantage.”

  “But as long as they see you as the link, your life will continue to be in danger,” Burke said, and grew somber. “We’re up against highly trained agents who are prepared to win at any cost.”

  “Which brings me to my next point. The journal’s the key—that’s what they want. We shouldn’t allow it to remain with the professor even if there are people guarding him. Let him scan copies into his computer, but the original—the book itself—should be placed in a safe deposit box or somewhere like that,” Laura said.

  “I agree,” he said with a nod. “But the bank won’t be open till tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll need to make other arrangements.”

  Following their suggestions, the professor scanned the remaining pages of the book onto his computer. Afterward, he and his family were taken to an agency safe house along with the supplies he needed to complete the translation.

  As soon as the professor and the others were on their way, Burke headed out with Wolf and Laura, the book safe inside his jacket pocket.

  “We need to find a secure place for the journal tonight—somewhere no one can get it,” Burke said.

  “Any ideas?”

  “I’m going to turn it over to another Gray Wolf operative I trust—as soon as possible. But you and I are going to have to make some decisions. From this point on, Laura, there are no safe options.”

  She nodded silently. So much had changed. She’d lost Elena, and now Burke’s life was in jeopardy, as well as her own. Fear left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Ch
eck your seat belt and make sure it’s fastened tightly,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “There’s a blue van behind us again. I caught a glimpse of it as it passed a streetlight. He’s staying back, but he’s there.”

  “Does it have a cracked windshield?”

  He smiled. “No, but that’s not a surprise. He wouldn’t have let it stay that way for long. It’s a dead giveaway.” Burke took another look in the side mirror, trying to make it out more clearly.

  “Look out!” Laura shouted as a pickup suddenly veered into their lane, coming at them head-on.

  Burke saw Enesco behind the wheel. The man wasn’t suicidal. Burke was almost sure he wouldn’t deliberately cause a crash, but he also knew he couldn’t risk it. Burke hit the brakes hard and yanked on the steering wheel, whipping the car around so the driver’s side took the brunt of the impact.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The truck struck them, but it was only a glancing blow.

  Glass shattered and metal screeched, but Burke’s air bag deployed and his seat belt held. By the time the heavy SUV came to a stop in the middle of the road, he was already planning a good defense. The engine had died, and he quickly turned off the headlights.

  Enesco had planned it well, but now it was Burke’s turn. He glanced over at Laura and saw the terror on her face, but she didn’t appear to be hurt. Wolf had been tossed against the padded sides of the storage compartment, but he was already trying to climb into the back seat.

  The door on Burke’s side wouldn’t open, so he’d have to find another way out. “Get down on the floor, Laura, and stay in the vehicle! Down, Wolf!”

  She unbuckled her seat belt and scrunched down, as Burke scrambled into the back seat. He opened the rear door on Laura’s side and slipped out, shutting the door behind him. Drawing his pistol, he looked over the hood in the direction of the pickup.

  There were no houses in the immediate vicinity, but a solitary lamppost beside the intersection gave some illumination. The van that had been following them was now stopped sideways in the road fifty feet away, beside the damaged pickup. The driver’s door was open.