by Aimée Thurlo
In those precious fifteen or twenty seconds it took to reach the car, she looked around, trying to memorize everything. She was somewhere in the valley, and the distinctive bluffs on the north side of the river were visible above an old orchard to her left. She got the impression of an old white farmhouse behind her, with faded green trim. The open ground to her right was uneven, as if plowed in rows, and yellow stalks of last year’s corn crop told her the workshop was beside an old field. A fence stood beyond the car, and past that was a grove of cottonwood trees and what looked like the transmission tower of a cell phone network. She could see the number 131 on the antenna.
Laura promised herself that she’d remember every detail. Sooner or later, she’d get away, and once she did, she’d be the only chance Nicole had to be rescued.
“We’re going to meet your boyfriend,” Enesco said. “And after that, if things go as planned, I’ll let you go.”
“The assurances of a liar don’t mean much,” she said.
Enesco laughed. “Hope is the only thing you’ve got, lady, so you better hold on to it.”
“You’re wrong. I have something else—something you want—the journal.”
“Not for long. You and I are about to pick it up from your boyfriend.”
He brought out a dark pillowcase, and Laura saw that he was going to cover her head.
She knew in her heart that Burke would never meet a kidnapper’s demands. He’d also know, as she did, that Enesco wouldn’t let either of them live long after he had the journal. They had only one option now—to fight. With luck, they’d do that better than Enesco ever dreamed they could.
BURKE DROVE INTO the bosque, a Southwestern term for the cottonwood forest, along the floodplain of the Animas River. He parked the car, then, after taping a long throwing knife to the small of his back, proceeded with Wolf into an area filled with brush, salt cedar and cottonwoods.
With Wolf at heel, Burke picked his way along the north bank of the river until the small backwater appeared.
Entering a thicket of slender willows in a crouch, he gave Wolf the “out” command, sending him farther into the undergrowth on his right. The dog would parallel his own movements.
Burke continued on slowly, until a voice came from across the stream on the small peninsula between that narrow channel and the much wider river beyond.
“Stop. You’ve come far enough. Now walk out to the center of the channel, holding the journal over your head above the water. Watch where you’re stepping so you don’t trip on something, fall and ruin it. Once you get close enough, throw the journal over to our side.”
“First I want to see Laura and make sure you haven’t harmed her.”
Only a minute went by, but it was the longest minute of his life. Finally two forms appeared in the thick brush on the far side of the little channel. He saw Laura first. She had her hands behind her back, and was being pushed forward roughly by Michael, who had a pistol in his hand. He alternately aimed the muzzle at Laura, then back at Burke.
“Are you okay?” Burke asked, stepping toward the water.
She nodded. “Yes. But Enesco still has something coming to him.”
“You’re right about that.” Burke smiled grimly, stepping into the icy water slowly. He’d caught Laura’s message. There was just Enesco with her. Wolf and he could handle it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Wolf’s muzzle in the water halfway around the bend, upstream. The dog was crossing over to outflank Laura’s captor, just as he’d hoped.
“The journal. Show it to me now!” Michael yelled, aiming the gun at Laura’s head.
Burke reached into his pocket, pulled out his notebook with his left hand, then waved it in the air. “Here it is. Satisfied?”
“Don’t let it fall in the water, you idiot—not if you value her life,” Michael cried.
Burke felt his way across the slow channel, the cold water coming up to his knees, but apparently no deeper as he neared the center of the twenty-foot-wide stream.
“Stop right there and throw the journal to me,” Enesco finally ordered.
Burke was about eight feet from dry ground and close enough to see that Laura’s hands were tied. If she fell into deep water, she couldn’t swim.
“Here it comes.” Burke brought his left hand back slowly, noting the low, black shape moving toward the man from behind. He tried to give Wolf a few more seconds to get in place before throwing the notebook.
“Throw it, you idiot!” Michael ordered. He cursed in a language Burke didn’t recognize, but the meaning was clear from the inflection.
Burke did more than that. He almost put it into orbit. As the notebook sailed over the man’s head, Enesco made the mistake of jumping for it.
At that precise moment, Laura pushed away from him. With a clear target, Wolf rushed out of the brush and attacked. Enesco, taken completely by surprise, fell backward, then rolled, fighting to free himself from the dog’s jaws. For a second he managed to break free, getting to his knees and swinging his pistol toward the dog.
Burke reached for the knife taped to his back, and threw it with all the skill he’d learned in the Special Forces. The blade caught Enesco in the center of his chest. The kidnapper dropped the handgun, then slipped down onto his side, writhing in pain.
As Burke hurried out of the water, Laura jumped into his arms. He held her protectively, tears stinging his eyes. “I’ve been through hell worrying about you,” he murmured.
“I kept hoping you’d be okay,” she said.
Burke shifted his gaze to Wolf and the man on the ground before him. Wolf’s jaws were open, and he was ready to pounce.
“Keep him off me,” Michael whispered.
“I will, but take my advice. Don’t move. He’s hoping you’ll give him a chance to tear your arm off.”
Burke gave the dog the command to guard. Wolf remained in front of the man, growling, saliva dripping from his mouth.
Burke brought a pocketknife out of his jacket and freed Laura’s hands. “Here,” he said, handing her his cell phone. “Call 911, and have dispatch relay to the FBI team that we’re going to need paramedics. If Michael dies, or refuses to talk, we may never find the Maurers. I’ve got a feeling Enesco has them stashed somewhere as insurance.”
“I was held with Nicole,” Laura said. “He took us both to the same place. He covered my face before we left, but I think I can take the police to where she is.”
Leaving Wolf to guard Laura, Burke attended to Enesco, who was barely conscious now and losing blood rapidly. “I can’t remove the knife or you’ll bleed to death in minutes,” he said. “But help will be here shortly, probably in five minutes or so.”
When Laura handed him back the phone, Burke noticed the blood on her fingers. “What the hell did he do to you?”
“I did it to myself,” she said, and explained how she’d cut the ropes earlier.
Before he could say anything, Burke heard the sound of men’s voices from the other side of the narrow channel. As he turned his head, he saw Wind at point, leading the FBI team to them, along with Karl Maurer, who was handcuffed. “About time you all got here,” Burke said. “What about the paramedics? Are they on their way?”
“They’re here now, unloading their gear. Knowing you, I made the call ahead of time,” Wind replied.
The federal agents reluctantly waded the icy channel in their street shoes, and once across, Agent Wylie signaled the paramedics to join them. Wind had already disappeared, which didn’t surprise Burke at all.
“Where’s my wife? Enesco kidnapped her, and when I wouldn’t help him anymore, he locked me in the trunk of his car.” Maurer moved toward Enesco angrily, but Agent Miller grabbed his shoulder.
Hearing Wolf’s throaty warning growl, Burke turned his head quickly. Karl certainly wasn’t going to get close to Laura. “Wolf, come!” Burke ordered.
The dog looked at Maurer, teeth still bared, then reluctantly went to Burke’s side.
&nbs
p; “If I were you, Karl, I wouldn’t give Agent Miller a hard time,” Burke said. “Wolf is just looking for an excuse to attack. He really seems to want a piece of you.”
“I’ll cooperate. I’ll tell you whatever I can, and testify against Enesco. Just find my wife,” Maurer said.
“We will,” Laura assured him.
Talking to Burke and Wylie, Laura described the workshop where they’d been kept and details of the grounds surrounding it.
“You’re sure about the number on that antenna?” Wylie asked.
“Positive.”
“I’ll use that to zero in on the location then.” Wylie made a call, then supervised as two deputies took Maurer away. Enesco was lifted onto a stretcher and carried across the channel, accompanied by Miller. An ambulance waited a short distance away, on one of the levees.
“Coming here alone was a damn fool thing to do,” Wylie said to Burke, shaking his head. Then he reluctantly stepped into the water again, heading after the others.
Alone with Burke, Laura wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. “You risked everything for me today,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
He buried his face in her hair. “Laura, don’t you understand? You are my life.” He took her mouth roughly in a kiss. He’d fallen hard for her. And if she never understood anything else he ever said or felt, he wanted her to understand that.
When he finally eased back, he saw the dazed look on her face and smiled.
“Guys, let’s go,” Wylie called out to them from across the channel, where he’d been speaking to a county sheriff’s deputy. “I’ve got a possible address on the place where Mrs. Maurer is being held, and I need Laura to help us out.”
Epilogue
After Nicole was freed, frightened but unhurt, she was taken into custody. Burke and Laura went to the station and made their statements.
“We’re all set here,” Wylie said at last. “You’ll have to make some court appearances, but this case is now closed.”
The words filled Laura with relief and sadness. At the very least, Burke would be moving out now. Once other cases took up his time, she wasn’t sure what would happen to them. The thought that they would drift slowly apart made her chest tighten.
They said goodbye to the agents and officers, then headed to her home. The day she’d dreaded was finally upon her.
“Handler said that the journal has been picked up by a representative of Freedom International, and copies are being distributed to various governments as well as the world press. They expect Rogov to be released soon,” Burke told her.
“I’m glad. My godmother would have been proud.”'
“And I’ve heard from an officer at the station that the criminals that have been preying on the seniors have been arrested. They followed a elderly man home, but he saw the tail and called the police on his cell phone. They were caught in the act,” Burke added.
Laura smiled. “Looks like some serious justice is taking place today.”
They arrived at her house a short time later. As they went inside, Laura looked around, checking out the fire damage. Except for the odor of smoke, there really wasn’t any visible sign of it.
“Fire retardant shingles really saved the day, I guess,” she said.
“And the fact that it served Enesco’s purpose to call the fire department before throwing the fire bomb,” Burke added.
“I’ll have a roofer out here tomorrow for an estimate, but it shouldn’t take them long to get things squared away. When you come to visit next time, you can see how it went.”
Suspecting he had a ton of reports to file and a million things to do now that the case was at an end, but unwilling to say goodbye to him just yet, Laura began talking fast—too fast to even think of what she was saying. Horrified, she realized she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop. “I’ll miss having Wolf around. Maybe I’ll get a dog,” she said, and continued on that thread without scarcely a breath.
Hearing his name, Wolf sat up. Cocking his head to one side, he looked at her as if she’d suddenly gone crazy.
“The furball does get under your skin,” Burke said, managing, at last, to get a word in edgewise.
“It’s too bad he’s got a full-time job. I’d take him myself,” Laura said. “Maybe I’ll write about what happened. What do you think?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You could help me brainstorm.”
“Laura—”
Oh, God, he was trying to say something, but she couldn’t shut up.
Suddenly Wolf barked once, then shot down the hall.
“What in the heck…” Burke followed, Laura right behind him.
They found the dog sprawled across Laura’s bed as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hey, get off there!” Burke ordered.
Wolf yawned, but stayed where he was.
“Wolf, off!” Burke said, his voice sharper this time.
Wolf gave him a panting grin, then shifted to his side and laid his head on Laura’s pillow.
“Furball, you’re trying my patience.” Burke went to get the dog but Wolf wriggled away and stayed where he was.
“Don’t be so rough with him,” Laura said, coming to help. “Come on, Wolf. Be a good boy.” She tried tugging gently on his collar, but the dog remained on his side, sliding his muzzle under a pillow to hide his eyes.
Muttering an oath, Burke sat on the bed and tried to slip his arms beneath the dog, preparing to lift him off.
“Wait, let me help,” Laura said as Wolf twisted away. “Don’t let him fall off and hurt himself.”
She leaned over, reaching for the dog’s upper half, but suddenly Wolf bounded to his feet and wiggled free like a greased pig.
Laura, knocked off balance, fell sideways, crashing into the nightstand. But before she could topple backward, Burke reached out and pulled her toward him onto the bed.
Not giving her a chance to gather her wits, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and lay back, dragging her on top of him.
“Laura,” he murmured. Their eyes met and suddenly nothing else seemed important. In one fluid motion, he rolled over, pinning her beneath him, and pressed his mouth to hers. His kiss deepened until it became a mating of two desperate souls.
“We have to talk,” Burke said, releasing her mouth for a moment.
“I’ve been talking,” she said, reaching up to kiss him again.
“Incessantly. Now you have to listen. I love you, Laura. Tell me what it’ll take to keep us together.”
“Come home to me every night and love me. If I have that, I can live with the rest.”
“But I thought—”
“You think too much. And why do men always want to talk so much?” she teased, reminding him of something he’d said to her once. “Women like action. Show me what you’ve got.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He kissed her deeply, drinking in her passionate sighs.
“Hashké!”
“…is yours forever.”
ISBN: 978-1-4603-0324-5
NAVAJO JUSTICE
Copyright © 2002 by Aimée & David Thurlo
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