Kino grimaced. The brothers exchanged a look in silence and Clay looked away. He gave a long-suffering sigh and made the call.
Kino left Clay in the running SUV and opened her door. He offered his hand and she walked with him into the offices of Oasis on rubbery legs. She was still wobbly when Margie got up and enveloped her in a warm hug.
Lea breathed in the scent of baby powder and coffee.
“You poor thing. You come and sit here. I heard about Ernesta. Anthony has already contacted her folks. He said you didn’t answer your phone. He’s pretty worried.”
“I shut it off.” She hadn’t but Kino didn’t want her answering.
“Geez, he was gonna call the police today and report you missing.”
Just as Clay had predicted.
“Don’t worry about the truck. Anthony picked it up this morning. I’m so sorry I gave you those keys. I had no idea.” Margie started to cry.
Kino pulled a tissue off her desk and handed it over with a request to see Anthony DeClay. Margie took them out back where the man in charge of this arm of Oasis stood on a truck bed filling a 200-gallon tank with water. Her tread slowed and Margie got farther ahead of them. Kino gripped her arm.
“Is that him?”
“I can’t tell yet.” But it looked like the man who had aimed that rifle at her. Same tall, lean frame. Same short brown hair. He wore jeans, construction boots and a long-sleeved, worn denim shirt that was open over his Oasis T-shirt.
Kino released the safety on his gun and returned it to its holster as they moved within ten feet.
Margie was out in front of them, pausing at the truck gate. She called a greeting and the man straightened and flicked off the water nozzle. Lea froze. Kino stopped just ahead of her, not blocking her view, but shielding her.
She stared at those glasses, black frames, blue-mirrored lenses and she couldn’t help the intake of breath. But then she looked at his face as he pulled down the shades. He had crow’s-feet flanking blue eyes. His jaw was square and he had dimples on each side of his mouth. His ears were small and tucked back.
Lea sagged. Kino slid his hand off his gun.
“This here is Lea Altaha,” said Margie.
Anthony DeClay hopped down from the truck, his eyes flicking from Kino to her before he took her hand.
“I’m sorry about Ernesta,” he said.
Lea’s eyes burned as she nodded.
“And about the truck mix-up. I got ours back.” He motioned to the battered blue truck devoid of windshield glass or side mirror. “Hell of a thing.”
“Did you get your map back?” asked Kino.
DeClay released Lea. “Oh, yes. It was in the truck. This whole thing could have been avoided, if Lea had checked in with me.”
“You hadn’t arrived yet and Margie gave me the keys,” said Lea.
Margie, flustered now, turned a bright red as she stammered. “I h-hope you don’t think I was responsible for what happened to you yesterday. I’m just sick about it.”
But she didn’t look sick. She looked scared. Her gaze kept sliding from Lea to Anthony and then to Kino. She looked cornered and on the verge of tears.
“We haven’t met,” said DeClay to Kino. “I’m Anthony DeClay. I’m the director.”
The men shook hands, eyes locked, smiles frozen.
“Officer Cosen,” said Kino. “I’m the one who shot out your windshield.”
They released their grips and regarded each other.
“Who repairs your trucks?” asked Kino.
“A local shop. We try to use local businesses when possible.”
“Any chance I could get a copy of the map Lea was using?”
“Oh.” He hesitated, hand going to his neck. “That’s just the stations we are taking out. Perhaps you heard—the tribal council voted to have us remove the stations on their land.”
“Yes, but the Shadow Wolves have permission to hunt and track on O’odham land and the station on your map was a drop spot.”
“That’s not connected to us. We’re a humanitarian organization. We save lives.”
Why did he sound defensive? Lea wondered. DeClay looked positively hostile with arms folded over his broad chest.
“The map is part of our investigation. So I’ll need a copy.”
“I’ll make you one and have my people bring it to Cardon Station.”
“You can’t make a copy now?”
“Printer is down.”
Lea glanced at Margie, whose face was the color of a boiled beet.
“Lea is taking a few days off,” said Kino.
She was?
“Of course,” said Anthony. “Understandable. But we are short-staffed. We only have three crews. So I’m out in the fields today, too. If there is nothing else, Officer Cosen, we’ve got work. Important work. They found another body last night. A young woman. She’d sustained an injury. Broken ankle, I’m told. She made it to one of our stations, but, well, it was empty.” His gaze went to Lea, as if it was her fault.
Had that been one of the stations she was supposed to have filled? She felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach.
“I have to get back to work,” she said to Kino.
“You have no partner.”
“You could help after your shift,” the director suggested to Kino.
DeClay regarded Kino, waiting for his decision.
“All right,” said Kino.
“Wonderful. Margie will get you the papers you need to sign and we can set you two up.”
“Great,” said Kino.
“Nice to meet you, Officer Cosen. Welcome on board.”
The tension in Kino’s body made his usually graceful stride an angry staccato as he followed Margie back into the building. Twenty minutes later Kino was an official aid worker and he and Lea were back in the SUV.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“You were going out there again, right?”
“Yes. I have to. People are out there in the desert. They need that water.”
“I don’t want you out there alone or with any partner but me.”
Kino tucked the papers he carried in the visor.
“Margie made me a copy of the rules and regs.” His gaze fixed on hers. She knew what he meant. The copier wasn’t broken. DeClay had lied.
“I don’t know why he did that,” Lea said.
“Love to see that map.” He started the SUV.
They drove out of Pima and into the desert. The route looked all too familiar.
“Where are we heading?” she asked.
“Back to the scene. I want another look at the scene.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lea tried to hold down her panic at having to return to the place where she’d nearly died. When they got there, she was surprised to see no evidence of the gun battle. No shattered glass or blood-soaked sand. And no water station. She couldn’t even really tell where the men had been. But Kino could. He was already sweeping the site—seeing what, she did not know.
“Where are the barrels?” she asked.
Kino stopped to stand in the place where the barrels had been. “Here. Oasis was told to remove them.” His eyes narrowed. “Short-staffed, but they move pretty fast when they want to.” He turned to Lea. “You remember any other stations on that map?”
She thought a minute. “Yeah. I had three loaded into my GPS but the thing doesn’t work out here. I have the coordinates, though.” She looked them up and they returned to the SUV. In twenty minutes they reached the next station on her list. Before they left the vehicle, a call came over Kino’s radio from his brother.
“Got some information.”
“Go ahead.”
“Moody repairs trucks
for Oasis.”
Lea’s stomach dropped. “But he works in town. Doesn’t he? That doesn’t mean—” Clay continued, so Lea broke off.
“Moody’s already out. He had a lawyer he can’t afford. Finally, Captain Rubio wants you back at the station now.”
“Be there in twenty,” Kino advised. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. Gabe and Clyne got the police report on Mom.”
Kino’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Go ahead.”
“The report did not say ‘no survivors.’ But the handwriting was rough. What it actually said was ‘one survivor,’” Clay revealed. “The officer’s retired but Gabe found him. He still lives up that way, I guess. The trooper said he remembered that accident because it was the Fourth and because of the little girl crying. He told Clyne that he called BIA and they took Jovanna at the scene.”
“Why would they do that?”
“BIA is in charge of Indian affairs. Our sister is Indian. Makes sense.”
“So the cemetery people were right? There’s only one grave up there?”
“Seems so. Gabe and Clyne saw it and checked with the cemetery office. One body, female. Jovanna is alive, or she was alive after the accident. They are checking hospital records next to see if they took Jovanna there. But I did ask Gabe if he knows someone in Tucson who could visit Rosa Keene. He said he’ll try a buddy there. See if they can send a unit to interview her.”
“Okay. Keep me posted.”
“On Jovanna or Rosa?” asked his brother.
Kino made a face. “Both. Out.”
Lea placed a hand on Kino’s thigh. “Is that your mother’s grave that Clay is speaking of?”
He nodded.
“And your sister might be alive. That’s good news.”
“Yes. Very good.”
“Shouldn’t you be up there helping your brothers?”
Instantly she regretted her words as Kino’s face went to stone. He swerved to the shoulder of the highway and then skidded off onto a wide stretch of sand. He threw the SUV into Park with more force than necessary and then faced her. She noted the dangerous glitter in his eyes and wondered if this was the kind of man who used his fists to relieve stress. Lea pressed her back to the door as her heart beat in her throat.
“You sound just like Clay.” He shot her a dark scowl. “Gabe and Clyne can handle it. They can handle anything.”
“Of course they can.” She forced herself to speak in a soothing tone and lifted her open hands in a sign of surrender and mollification.
Kino’s brows lifted as he stared at her. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his features were calm and his body relaxed.
“Lea, you haven’t known me long. But I want you to understand something about me. I have never and will never, ever, lift my hand to a woman. I fight to protect, defend and apprehend. That’s it.”
She felt some of the tension leave the muscles in her shoulders and stomach. Her heart continued to wallop her ribs like a caged animal.
“I believe you,” she said. “But it’s a contradiction. The peace and violence. I don’t understand it.”
“Everything has two sides, dark and light.”
She knew the stories and the philosophy. Man’s struggle for the light; his battle with the darkness.
“As for helping? I’ve spent much of my life trying to keep up with my older brothers. Being told I was in the way or too little to be included. Feeling their frustration as my gran insisted they take me along.
“Clyne is thirty-three. That’s thirteen years older than me. He was more like a second father than a brother. Gabe, too. He’s nine years older and Clay is four, just old enough to be ten times better at everything and to find me mostly a pest. He’s been looking out for me since forever. Still is. Can’t stop, I guess. I suppose I don’t think they really need my help.”
“They do. Of course they do.”
“I do feel guilty that I’m not at Black Mountain. Gabe is away and we are always shorthanded. But it’s only a month—just a few more days now.”
She knew what a difference a few days had made to her mother’s sister. The thought made her sad and weary all at once.
Kino pursed his lips and blew out a breath. Then he flexed his fingers on the wheel and gripped it with one hand. The other he extended to her, palm up.
Lea hesitated for less time than she should have before taking his hand. This man had a magnetism she did not understand and could not seem to resist.
Their fingers entwined and she felt the pleasant stirring of need; her body for his. Their eyes met and held.
“I’m close to finding this guy. Close to putting him away. But I need your help.”
And then his hand slipped from hers. He seemed to really want her understanding. So she tried. But still she could not comprehend why he was here with his father’s ghost instead of with his older siblings looking for his sister.
Why did so many people think that the correct response to violence was more violence? It created an endless circle of aggression.
She stared off to her right at the scrubby plants that might not see rain for another full year. Yet they endured, twisted and stunted as they were. The stark outline of rocky mountains punched upward into the blue sky and there, above it all, shone the unforgiving sun. Who was out there now, without water, thirsty, dying?
This time when he spoke, the earnest, plaintive quality had been replaced by wistfulness. “She’s been missing for nine years. She won’t even know us.”
Lea had reached out again automatically, responding to his pain with a gentle stroking of her hand on his thigh. His leg flinched beneath her fingers and she pulled back. Why did she have the continuous gnawing need to connect with him? Was it just the physical—the longing to press flesh to flesh and to know this man in the most intimate way possible?
She forced her mind back to his concerns. His sister, whom he obviously loved despite his absence and his current priorities.
“How old was she then?” she asked.
“Three.”
“She’ll remember something. I’m sure.”
Kino put the vehicle back in gear and drove them to the coordinates she had given him. Once at the second station, Kino stepped out of the cool SUV and Lea followed. The long-sleeved shirt kept the sun from her arms, and the bulky vest, which did not quite fit even with the Velcro straps cinched tight, allowed some airflow. Still, the nylon pressed down on her shoulders like an unwelcome backpack. That made her think of her mother walking out here with everything she’d owned in a pillowcase, the pack on her back reserved for other things.
Kino stood a few feet in front of the vehicle, but instead of checking the station site for sign, as he had at the first station, he stood with his head bowed.
Lea crossed around in front of the hood to reach him. She rested a hand on his shoulder, which was free of his bullet-stopping vest.
He wrapped her in one arm and tugged her against his side. The flak jacket he insisted she wear shifted and stuck to her breasts and stomach. Still, the pressure of his body against hers made her breasts ache with want.
“You all right?” she asked.
“I should be asking you that question,” he said. “How are you managing?”
“Well, I’m glad the director isn’t the Viper. That’s the only good thing that’s happened. I want to get back to work. I feel the same way you do about your job. They are short-staffed and need every aid worker.” She gazed up at him, one hand resting on his chest, taking in the slow, steady beat of his heart as she inhaled the spicy scent of him.
“But you’ll be leaving eventually.”
“Yes, when my internship is done. But not until my replacement arrives.”
He’d worn his hair loose today and it brushed pa
st his shoulder blades in a straight black curtain. She wondered if he ever danced at powwows because she would dearly love to see him in his regalia. Just the thought gave her goose bumps.
“I’d like to check this station. Could you just stay still while I cut for sign?”
She stepped back, reluctant to let him go. It felt so natural to be in his arms. She needed to stop that line of thinking because it wasn’t natural. She could tell what he thought of her humanitarian efforts and he knew what she thought of his work, too.
Kino spent a few minutes walking in a zigzag pattern, examining a sagebrush branch and squatting to check the ground. What did he see?
Finally he glanced back to her and motioned with his head. She followed him to the barrels. “What did you see?”
“Recent visit. Six men. Smugglers, likely, as they came in heavy, left light. All visited the water station.”
She was helping smugglers again, just as he’d accused. Her stomach dropped with her spirits.
“Saw a fiber on that bush from a burlap sack.” He pointed to the water barrels. “Curious to take a look in there.”
“Oh, they don’t open,” she said.
He quirked a brow but said nothing. Then he addressed the first barrel, lifting it several inches from the frame and dropping it back into place. It made no sloshing sound.
“Empty?” she asked. “If it’s marked for removal, then that makes sense.”
He tried the lid.
“Those are glued down. They don’t come off,” said Lea. “We fill them from the top and the migrants use the spigot at the bottom to draw water.”
Despite her expectation, the top popped right off and fell to the sand. Lea gave a little exclamation of surprise as she leaned forward to peer into the barrel, which now rested on its side. The blue container was filled to the brim with plastic rectangular bags about twelve-by-twelve-by-eighteen. Just the right size for transport in a backpack, she realized. Judging from the smell, it was marijuana.
“Bingo,” said Kino. He turned to Lea and lowered his shades. “You know about this?”
“What? No!”
“So are these not on the map because they are marked for removal, as your boss states, or because they are using them as drops?”
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