She groaned and rolled facedown into the pillows, wishing she could stay here, lying in his sheets instead of facing the day. She found the scent of him here and pressed her nose into the pillows to inhale deep. Despite his assurances and the comfort of his now-familiar scent, she could not shake the images of death clinging to her like shrouds.
Lea found the strength to rise and shower, scrubbing her skin in a vain attempt to wash away the horror. When she returned to the bedroom it was to the aroma of coffee. That was enticement enough to get her out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen, where she was greeted with the sight of Clay pouring coffee and Kino at the stove, spatula in hand as he turned browning potatoes in a black cast-iron skillet.
“There she is,” Kino said, turning at some sound or change that was imperceptible to her. She had approached on bare feet on carpet. Yet he knew the instant she entered the room. How did he do that?
Clay wordlessly offered her a cup of coffee, which she accepted. He motioned her to a chair. On the table she added sugar to her coffee and then savored that first sip. It was strong and sweet. Just as she liked it.
“Milk is in the refrigerator, if you take it in your coffee,” said Kino, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Lea to be dressed in his clothing, sleeping in his bed and eating at his table. A tiny part of her wished that were so. The other part wanted her life back.
“I won’t ask how you slept. Lousy, I’ll bet. Understandable. It will be a while before you get a straight eight.”
What made him so sure, so confident that the images burned into her memory would leave her? She lifted a brow and prayed he was right.
She was then presented with an enormous pile of fried potatoes, fresh-made fry bread with honey and enough bacon to take three years off her life. Kino could indeed cook. Why wasn’t she hungry?
“Eat,” ordered Kino.
She tried.
After the meal, Kino went to get her something to wear that didn’t look as if she was preparing to go play basketball. That left her alone with Clay, who sipped his coffee and eyed her over the rim of his mug in the silence yawning between them. Why was it that she was so at ease with Kino and so jumpy around Clay?
At last she could nurse her coffee no more and was forced to try conversation.
“How did you two find out the Viper was here?”
Clay’s brows lifted. He looked similar to his brother, although he was taller and rangier. Kino seemed to spend time lifting weights while Clay reminded her more of a distance runner.
“He told you about the Viper?”
“Yes. And how he killed your father.”
Clay sat forward, slowly placing the coffee mug on the table surface. “What did he say?”
Lea told him. Clay sat so still Lea found it disconcerting. When she finished he still didn’t move. She frowned. “Well?”
“He’s never told any of us about that day.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Nevertheless, it’s true.” Clay cocked his head. “Why you?”
“Because I’ve seen the shooter?”
Clay shook his head. “No. It’s more. I think he likes you.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “He doesn’t like me. He hates Oasis. Thinks I’m helping the smugglers. Disapproves of pacifists in general and me in particular. And, finally, he doesn’t have the first clue what it is like to cross that desert.”
“Do you?” he asked.
Lea felt she’d said too much already. “No, of course not. I’m a member of the Salt River tribe.” Why had she felt the need to say that last part? It made her sound as though she had something to prove.
“You like him?” asked Clay.
She made a face. She didn’t like Kino. But she trusted him. And she found herself extremely attracted to him. He made her feel safe, while Clay made her jumpy as a frog in spring rain. Lea glanced at the door, wishing Kino was back. “He and I don’t see eye to eye,” she said. “I don’t approve of killing.”
“Most women don’t.”
Lea moved to the counter to refill her cup, feeling Clay’s gaze following her.
“What about you? Do you want to kill this man?”
Clay stretched his neck and shoulders and then returned his unsettling gaze to her. “I’m older than Kino. I knew what our dad was. But Kino? He only remembers what he was like around the house...taught him to cook, fish, stuff like that. At home, he was a good father and Kino idolized him. But Dad wasn’t one of the good guys. He was away a lot and he didn’t spend much time with us. Kino was too young to remember. Me, too, actually.
“Dad was locked up for DWI before I was even born. When he got out, he couldn’t find any work. Clyne told me he got arrested again when Clyne was five. Arson this time. Apparently he set a hell of a blaze, hoping to get work putting out the brush fire, which he did, but the fire burned for days. Destroyed a lot of property. I remember him getting out after that one. I was ten. Kino was only six then. He didn’t see that dad was using.”
“Using?”
“He came out of prison addicted to crystal meth. I heard the police tell Grandma that to pay for his habit he was transporting drugs from the border to stash houses on the rez. Lots of drugs on the rez. You know. Harder to prosecute ’cause it’s Indian land. It draws bad people and trouble. Lots of trouble.” Clay finally looked away as his eyes took on a distant quality.
“I’m sorry.”
He returned his focus to her. “Yeah. Anyway. Dad was...well, ruined by prison or unemployment or alcohol. I don’t know which or when. Kino just knows that they took him. Then we meet up with one of the guys working down here, a Shadow Wolf, and he mentions a cartel hit and the rattlesnake rattle in the bullet wound. Kino puts in for a leave of absence and convinces me to come on down here with him.”
“You’re here to find this killer, too?”
“My dad deserved what he got.” Clay ran a finger around the rim of his empty coffee cup. “I’m here for him.” He thumbed toward the hall.
That surprised her. “You’re looking out for him?”
“Miss Altaha, I lost my dad and my mom. Maybe my little sister, too. I can’t afford to lose anyone else.”
“I see.”
“I’d stop him if I could. But I can’t. He’s got his jaw locked like a snapping turtle. No use trying to pry him off. So the best I can do is watch his back.”
Lea had the feeling that Kino would need that kind of help very soon.
Clay’s phone rang, the ringtone a recording of Apache drums and the high song she recognized from dance competitions. Clay picked up.
“Yeah?” He listened and then stood. “Okay, then.” Clay disconnected and met her questioning gaze. “Kino convinced the tribal police to meet us at Moody’s. He wants to see if you recognize him.”
“Who’s Moody?”
“We found the Viper’s truck on his property yesterday.”
“You think it’s him?”
“You tell us.”
Kino returned, carrying her T-shirt and jeans, now obviously washed, folded and stacked. Someone had taught the Cosen brothers how to keep house, she thought. Kino extended his offering and she looked again at the pile, noticing two unfamiliar items of clothing at the bottom of the stack. A tan-colored shirt like the ones the Shadow Wolves wore and beneath that a bulletproof vest. Her stomach twisted at the reminder of her vulnerability.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“You know what it is. I want you to wear it under the shirt.”
She accepted the pile, finding the vest much lighter than she’d anticipated.
“Is this really necessary?”
“We’ll see.”
* * *
KINO DROVE THE SUV and they reached M
oody’s place just behind the tribal police. He planned to kill two birds with one stone here. Lea would remain safe behind the tinted glass where she could see everyone who passed by. He would make sure that included Bill Moody and the new tribal police chief, Charles Scott.
Lea sat in the back between the two bucket seats, wearing her jeans and Kino’s shirt, beneath which she wore her T-shirt and his body armor.
She hadn’t fought him on that, which made him think she realized the danger. But she showed tremendous courage, quietly doing all he asked. When he’d asked why she was so agreeable, she’d said she just wanted to get this over with.
Why should that bother him? Didn’t he want to get this over with, as well? Hadn’t he been thinking of this day for years? But once he found the Viper there would be no reason to keep Lea close. No excuse to bring her along or to let her sleep in his bed. Granted, he’d been on the couch, but this morning, when he’d been dressing, he could smell her soft, sweet scent on his pillow. What would it be like to wake up beside her?
He’d never find out because she clearly wanted nothing to do with him and that suddenly bothered him. He’d never felt this protective instinct for any other woman and that bothered him, too.
Clay had called her a distraction that could get them both killed while Kino saw her as the lucky break he’d been praying for. Maybe Clay was right. He was getting too attached to her.
Kino eavesdropped as Lea called border patrol and rescheduled her meeting there. When she dropped the phone in her overlarge front pocket, she looked years older. The US Marines called it the two-thousand-yard stare: that vacant look of battle-weary soldiers.
“You all right?” asked Kino.
“No. And I don’t know if I ever will be.”
She would. Lea was strong, stronger than she knew.
Two tribal police units and a single ICE vehicle had pulled off just out of sight of Bill Moody’s residence to organize.
“You didn’t call border patrol,” Clay said, looking out the window. It was more statement than question.
Kino met Clay’s long stare and shrugged. “We’re not on the border.” He aimed his thumb out his passenger window. “Our captain is here.”
His friend and fellow Shadow Wolf Nesto Gomez sat in the ICE unit with Captain Rubio. In the backseat was Nesto’s dog, Coco. If there were drugs on the premises, Coco would find them.
“Hey, Chief Scott is here,” said Clay, pointing to the first tribal unit.
Kino cast Lea one quick glance before exiting the vehicle, leaving the SUV running and the AC on. Lots of guys did that to keep the interior cool. Kino waited for Clay to disembark before hitting the alarm and lock button. Clay approached the chief of police and thanked him for coming. Then he introduced Kino, who shook Scott’s hand. Lea would see his face now. Was it him? Was his palm now pressed to the one that had held the weapon that had killed his father?
With introductions made and the plan in place, Kino returned to his SUV, waiting until all the tribal police were moving before opening the door. He stuck his head in and looked at Lea. She shook her head.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Not him,” she said. Her voice held complete certainty.
Kino didn’t know if he should feel relieved or disappointed. Having the chief of the tribal police involved with the cartels would be very bad business. But it meant he was down to three possible suspects. Bill Moody, Anthony DeClay and Dale Mulhay.
Kino climbed in behind the wheel and took his place at the end of the line of units. They approached without sirens or lights.
Moody’s house was within the jurisdiction of the tribal police. They knocked and Moody came to the door, obviously just out of bed, his pink face still showing the marks of wrinkled bedsheets. His wife appeared behind him and there was an exchange in O’odham that Kino could not follow.
Kino knew that Lea could not see Moody from where he stood on his cluttered porch. But she’d see him when they walked to the outbuilding. Unfortunately, Chief Scott insisted Moody turn over the key and remain on the porch with one of his men while they went to investigate. Inside the building they found three more vehicles. There was a four-seat all-terrain vehicle that could maneuver in places a truck could not. There was also a cart that could hook up behind the ATV.
“Wonder what he carries in that?” asked Scott.
Beyond the ATV and cart sat a new truck, a tan-colored dually with the backseat removed in exactly the fashion used by traffickers transporting quantities of product that had been smuggled over the border. The next two vehicles made Clay let out a whistle of appreciation. The first was a four-wheel motorcycle in camo color. The last was a dune buggy complete with roll bars and metal cage.
“Now, where would a part-time mechanic get the scratch for all this?” asked Chief Scott. Then he called over his shoulder, “Okay, Gomez. Bring in Coco.”
The dog entered, pulling on her leash in her effort to search. She gave positive signs on the dually and the cart.
“Arrest him,” said Scott to one of his officers.
Kino went along to be sure Moody walked past Lea.
Clay went with him. “If that’s him, you’ll have to be satisfied with him going to jail.”
Kino knew that. “I just want it over.”
“I thought you wanted him dead,” said Clay.
Kino looked toward their SUV and thought of Lea.
“Yeah, I did” was all he said. But now he wasn’t quite so sure.
Moody put up a struggle and, after having his hands secured with plastic ties, managed to get away from the two arresting officers. He was heading straight for their SUV, the last in the line.
Kino caught up to him, grabbed him by the neck and threw him up against the SUV. Moody grunted and his cheek slid against the glass of the rear passenger-side window. He stopped struggling. It was only then that Kino realized that Moody had his forehead resting on the glass and seemed to be peering into the vehicle. Kino felt a shot of adrenaline bolt through him as he yanked Moody away from the SUV.
“Thanks,” said one of the officers, taking charge of Moody again. Moody turned his head, met Kino’s gaze and smiled. Kino watched him march away between two tribal police officers. Then he pressed his own face close to the glass and saw Lea with her hands fisted to her cheeks. Their eyes met and Kino knew for sure—Moody had seen Lea.
CHAPTER TEN
Lea was cowering when Kino got into the SUV. He spun so that his shoulders filled the gap between the seats.
“Was that him?” he asked.
Lea shook her head. “Not him.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the way the man had looked at her, with a sort of triumph, had washed her entire body cold. Her mouth had gone dry and her head was still pounding.
Clay slipped into the front passenger seat. “He’s dirty. You know a guy living in BIA housing can’t afford toys like that. Hell, it took me a year to save up for my boat, and I’m working overtime five days a week.”
“Which is why you don’t have a girlfriend,” said Kino without looking at him. His eyes were still on Lea, sweeping her face, his concern showing in the slight downward tug at the corners of his mouth.
“I prefer my boat,” said Clay. “Jason said he’d call us when they run the VINs on those vehicles.”
Kino shifted back into the driver’s seat and put them in Drive. “Who?”
“The tribal officer we met in the outbuilding. Jason Beach was his name.”
Lea listened to their exchange, trying to get her heart rate to return from frantic to terrified. What would happen now?
Kino was talking. “...can’t go back to her place. He might have figured out his mistake by now.”
“If she doesn’t show for wo
rk they’ll list her as a missing person. Everyone will be looking for her.”
Kino glanced at her in the rearview—the problem they needed to solve. “We’ve got to report in. Lea, I want to see your director. DeClay. I’m going with you to rule him out.” He glanced at Clay. “Then we can report in.”
“But he knows Ernesta,” said Lea. “Surely he can tell us apart.”
“At night? From the back?”
From the back? Had that coward shot Ernesta in the back? Lea’s shoulders slumped as she sagged in the seat, the belt holding her upright. Ernesta was a wonderful, committed person who’d done all she could to make the world a better place. This was all so very wrong.
“You going to leave her without protection?” Clay sounded astonished.
“No. I’m riding with her.”
They’d reached Oasis headquarters in Pima when Clay got a call. He wrote something down and then thanked the caller before disconnecting.
“That was Beach. He said the vehicles are all registered to the same person.”
“Who?”
“Rosa Keene.”
“That’s the same name we got for that old truck. The one he was driving.”
“Yup.”
“So who is she?” asked Kino.
“I don’t know, but Beach says Moody is denying knowledge. Says he was just holding them for a friend who likes to take them out in the desert.”
“That’s bull.”
“Yeah, but Coco didn’t find any drug evidence on his property. Beach says that the only place they got a clear signal was in the vehicles and Moody doesn’t own them.”
“He’s going to walk.”
“Seems like it.”
“Call Gabe. Get him to send someone to Rosa Keene’s address. Find out anything he can about her and ask him to call us back.”
“He’s going to see the state police up there today.”
Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2 Page 45