The Last Warrior

by Kylie Brant

  “There’s nothing to point to Graywolf senior, and I’d be surprised if he were in on this thing.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to mention her idea, but after a second she thought better of it. She knew what Joe’s response would be, and it was always easier to ask forgiveness than permission. At any rate, he was exhausted and needed sleep.

  She remained silent while he rose, with her in his arms, and walked to her bedroom. She stripped to camisole and panties and joined him in bed. His arm snaked out to pull her close, one of his legs covering both of hers, but he seemed content just to have her close, her cheek pressed to his chest.

  And something suspiciously like contentment traced through her, as she felt her body relax and follow him into a deep and dreamless slumber.

  She was suffocating. Facedown in rubble that used to be walls, floors, ceilings. Pinned beneath a giant invisible weight, every breath an agony.

  The screams and moans of the dying were constant companions, slashing at her eardrums, echoing her anguish. But worse, far worse was when the screaming finally stopped. When she became aware that she was the only one left, buried alive in this crushing prison to die alone. One torturous moment at a time.

  She struggled against that frantic certainty. Battled wildly against the constant pressure that held her immobile. Knowing all the while that she’d join the silent ghosts all around her…

  “Delaney. Wake up.”

  It wasn’t the soft command that had her eyes snapping open. It was the sudden release of the pressure that held her pinned. Support beams from the ceiling, maybe. Or stones from the pillars that had once dotted the hotel lobby.

  She blinked, comprehension returning sluggishly. The dust that had filled her lungs only moments ago was gone. She was in a darkened room but the corpses around her had vanished. There was only a man, his expression grim and worried, surveying her carefully.

  Understanding rushed in, mingled with humiliation. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” The words were sharp, though his tone was low. “Are you all right?”

  She let out a laugh, one bitter breath, and scrambled off the bed. It was a wreck, sheets tangled, trailing on the floor from her fight to free herself of the nightmare’s grasp. And Joe’s. Her gaze bounced to him again. “Did I hurt you?”

  The oath he uttered was dangerous. “Forget that. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” But she stumbled away from the bed, unwilling, unable to face it again. “I’ll be fine. Try to get some sleep.”

  He followed her out into the other room, having pulled on his jeans without bothering to fasten them. She could feel him watching her in the shadows, and wished bitterly that she could prevent the shudders racking her body. Stop the nausea clenching and roiling in her stomach. And felt that familiar helpless fury when her body didn’t obey her mind and the shivers continued to skate over her sweat-slicked skin.

  “Maybe you should go.” The walls of the room seemed to be pressing in. She was suddenly anxious to have him gone, before she disgraced herself completely and bolted from the house like a demented mental patient. “You aren’t going to get any sleep here, and you need it.”

  He didn’t answer, but went back to the bedroom. She let out a pent-up breath and forced herself to walk, not race, to the front door. She fumbled with the lock and yanked it open, stumbling out onto the porch to haul in a greedy gulp of air, feeling marginally more normal just to be outside.

  Normal. An ironic little smile settled on her lips. What passed for normal these days was a far cry from most people’s definition of the word. It took effort to remember what it had been like before she feared sleep. Before just the thought of enclosed places had her palms dampening, her pulse racing. When she had a little distance to recover from this latest episode she’d remind herself that the nightmares occurred less frequently. That she was, for all intents, moving ahead with her life despite all that had come before.

  But now, in the dark and desperate hours of the night, the reassurances were empty.

  “Come with me.”

  Joe had appeared behind her, and she didn’t miss the care he took not to touch her. “No, I’ll see you later. Maybe when this thing is all over.”

  He did reach out then, laying his palm on her shoulder to caress her arm in a long velvet stroke. “Let me show you something.” Reluctantly she followed him back into the house, both surprised and relieved when he headed through it, then out the back doorway and down the steps.

  The quarter moon was smudged by inky fingers of dark clouds, but the stars were bright overhead, brilliant pinpricks of light glimmering against the black velvet sky. Feeling a little lost, she stumbled after him, her feet not nearly as sure as his in the darkness.

  “Here.”

  He’d made a bed of sorts from what looked like the sofa and chair cushions and her bedding. The thoughtfulness of the gesture stung her eyelids.

  “I spent more time sleeping outside than in during months like this when I was a kid. It still brings me peace when something is troubling me.” He sank down on the pallet and pulled at her hand so that she landed beside him. With swift economical movements he got her situated next to him and pulled a sheet over them both.

  “Peace can be elusive,” she murmured. But something resembling it settled in her now, with her head tucked beneath Joe’s shoulder, his arm around her and a billion tiny shards of light twinkling above her.

  Though he was silent for a long time, she knew he wasn’t sleeping. His voice, when he finally spoke, was halting. “Does it bother you to talk about it? Make it worse?”

  “Not really.” She stared unblinkingly at the constellations above. And that was true. Talking changed nothing. She’d become convinced that only time accomplished that, but had never imagined how excruciatingly slow that transformation would be.

  “Why did you return? After they got you out. What drove you to fly back into the same danger and spend all those months there again?”

  She’d been asked that question dozens of times before, and it was on the tip of her tongue to offer him the same answers she’d devised to deal with it. That immersion journalism gets in your blood. That she was unwilling to leave a job undone.

  But because of all he’d offered her, here, tonight, she owed him the truth. “It was the only thing that helped me make sense of it,” she said simply. “That’s what people do, I guess, when faced with something horribly, unnecessarily tragic. All those people dead, and for what? I wanted something to show for our presence in that hotel. Because if I hadn’t after all that suffering, what was the point of it?”

  “So you risked your life again so those deaths weren’t in vain.”

  “No.” Her voice was sharper than she intended. “You make it sound heroic, and believe me, I was anything but. I was scared all the time. Always. And the only way I got through it was to spend my nights crawling into the bottom of whatever bottle I managed to score on the black market.”

  “And yet you stayed.”

  “I stayed.” In an alcohol-induced haze most nights, but she’d stayed. She’d remained several more long months reporting on the violence and devastation and then had politely flown back to the States before breaking down completely.

  “Few could manage what you did.”

  The words warmed her, even while she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe they were true. Yes, she’d managed to do her job even as she struggled with ghosts that had taken up permanent residence in her mind. And that had been a victory of sorts. But she knew exactly how far she was from vanquishing those specters completely. Charley was right. Coyote was always waiting. He was a constant presence inside her, ready to pounce when defenses were lowered.

  “I think my ex plans to steal my son.”

  Shocked at his non sequitur, she twisted her head to look up at him, but Joe’s gaze was fixed on the sky. “I learned by accident that she’s moved from Window Rock. A private investigator I hired confirmed i
t. She’s living in Phoenix at a furnished condo unit that rents by the week.”

  “Have you talked to her? Maybe she just-”

  “She lied when I called her cell. Mentioned that she’d found a different place in Window Rock that was closer to a park for Jonny.” Sarcasm laced his words. “Of course when I asked for the address she skirted that by saying she was planning to bring him here for his visit this coming weekend. She’s biding her time. The custody hearing is in a few weeks and the only chance she has to share custody is to remain on reservation lands. But once the hearing is over she’ll be gone. It’s all she talked about during the final months of our marriage. She wanted us to move away from here, to a larger city, off Navajo lands.”

  The demand amazed her. “She didn’t know you very well, did she?”

  He looked down at her then. “And you think you do?”

  Though a voice inside her whispered caution, she nodded. “You’re a part of this place. It’s a part of you. It’s not something I can articulate or completely understand. But I know that much.” And she envied it, too. What must it be like to have such a powerful sense of belonging? To a place and to a people that shared the same rich past?

  “She doesn’t know me well at all if she thinks I’ll let that happen,” he said flatly. “She didn’t cover her tracks well enough and I have someone watching her around the clock. For Jonny’s sake, I was willing to work out a compromise that would give him some stability with both parents. But she can’t have my son.”

  She could hear the fear mingling with the determination of his vow, and she stroked his chest, soothing the muscles that had gone tense.

  After a time he rolled to face her, his hand sweeping down her thigh and then up again, chasing the last remnants of chill from her skin. And when his face lowered, when his mouth settled against hers she gladly twined her arms around his neck, welcoming the embrace.

  There was a slightly pagan feeling to making love outdoors, beneath the silent moon and scattered constellations. A sense of wicked pleasure in watching his skin gleam in the thin beams of moonlight slanting across it.

  The world narrowed its focus until there was only the two of them, backdropped against the infinite beauty of the night. And when he moved over her, inside her, the breath rushed from her lungs and all she could see was the stars beyond the breadth of his shoulders, his face in the shadows, stamped with the primitive expression of a man claiming his mate.

  The alarm shrilling insistently in the back of her mind was muted, but present. Because she knew then, with mingled certainty and sadness, that he was destined to leave a mark on her soul that time and distance would never completely erase.

  Chapter 11

  “Captain said he wanted to see you as soon as you get in.”

  Vicki’s words greeted Joe and Arnie as they entered the Navajo Tribal Police headquarters the next afternoon. The two men looked at each other. “We just got here,” Arnie said.

  “Then he wants to see you now.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Arnie said, glancing at the clock. “I promised to check in with Brenda. It’s the only way to keep her from coming down here and following me around to make sure I don’t overexert myself.”

  “If she thinks there’s any danger of you overexerting yourself on the job, she should follow you around,” Joe suggested. “Be a real eye-opener.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The other man headed to his desk. “How about some respect for the fallen hero wounded in the line of duty?”

  Joe rapped at the captain’s door and entered when commanded, closing it behind him on the rest of his partner’s good-natured complaints. “Arnie will be here in a minute.”

  Tapahe gestured for him to sit. “What have you gotten today? Anything?”

  The report was depressingly meager. “Nothing on Graywolf or the van belonging to that tread we found. And Lee hasn’t returned to his parents’ home. Arnie and I have been concentrating on abandoned mines, focusing on a seventy-mile radius, but so far nothing.” Time was running out, and this method of investigation was too slow and uncertain. They had approximately thirty hours until the next trip to the border. And he didn’t like their chances if they had to sit back and hope Border Patrol spotted the van along the nineteen-hundred-plus miles of border.

  “I think we need to get Graywolf in here again.” Tapahe still hadn’t said anything. “Maybe use that connection to Quintero we established with the cell phone call log and throw in the rumors we’ve heard linking him to the deaths of those three local youths. He might slip and give us something we can use.”

  “And maybe he’ll be tipped off and the whole operation gets postponed.”

  Tapahe had a valid point, but the feeling that they were chasing their tails in the intervening hours was beginning to wear on Joe.

  Arnie opened the door and joined them. The captain waited until he was seated before continuing. “I think you were right yesterday. We need to get a look at the Graywolf property to decide if we’re on the right track before this all goes down tomorrow night.”

  Joe felt hope stirring. Leaning forward in his chair he asked, “You got us a warrant?”

  “Do I look like a magician to you, Youngblood?” the captain said testily. “We’ve got nothing to take to a judge and you know it. But someone gave me an idea this morning that I think has merit.”

  Trepidation replaced hope and Joe sat back. “And that someone was?”

  “Delaney Carson.”

  Stunned, he could only stare at his superior. Dimly he heard Arnie ask, “Carson?”

  “Apparently some private property owners offered her free access to their land while she was working on the book.” He looked at Joe. “That’s what took her to the Nahkai property.”

  He gave a jerky nod, afraid he knew exactly where this was headed. Hoped he was wrong.

  “She suggested that maybe Graywolf senior would extend that same courtesy, which would allow her to take a look at that mine you two were interested in.”

  “No.” Fear sliced through Joe with sharp jagged strokes. What if they were right about that mine site? Worse, what if that’s where Lee was hiding out? He’d fired at Delaney once and missed. He may not miss the next time.

  “I was ready to dismiss the idea myself, but she’s a very persuasive lady. And it was a solution to our getting a look at the area.”

  “That could tip off the kid. Brant.”

  “I weighed that.” The captain eyed him steadily. “Also weighed it against the possibility the elder Graywolf was involved. But you didn’t think that was plausible and neither do I. I finally figured her plan might represent our best chance.”

  “No!” Joe shot up from his chair and braced his hands on the captain’s desk. “You’re the one who wanted to keep President Taos happy. And now you’re thinking of sending her back into a possibly dangerous situation? What if he finds out about it?”

  “Sit down, Joe.” Their gazes did battle until Joe finally backed away, his jaw tight. He didn’t sit. He couldn’t. He was too tightly wound for that.

  “Carson suggested that she call Taos and ask him to contact Graywolf senior for permission. He got it, probably because Graywolf is hoping for a mention of his company in the book. Whatever the reason, we’ve got access to the site, and I think the danger to Carson is pretty minimal. Brant would have no reason to believe she planned to be on the Graywolf property today.”

  “I can’t believe Taos would be okay with her walking into a possibly dangerous situation again,” Joe said, reining in temper and fear with effort.

  Tapahe’s gaze shifted away. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be.”

  Comprehension dawned. “You didn’t tell him about the investigation.”

  “I didn’t talk to him,” the captain corrected. “Carson did. I talked to Agents Mitchell and Tarken, and we agreed that what we stood to gain outweighed the slight risk to a civilian.”

  “Oh, the feds agreed.” Driven to pace, Joe strode across t
he office and back. “I’ll bet they did. They’ve come up with nothing on the homicides and they’re desperate for anything that might give them a few answers.” He shook his head, aware that Arnie was watching him shrewdly, not caring. “I still don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it. It’s done.” The words had Joe’s attention snapping to the captain. “Carson and her guide left a couple hours ago.”

  “You aren’t lost again, are you?”

  “We aren’t lost. We’re headed for that butte.”

  Delaney brought the binoculars up to peer in the direction Eddie had indicated. Distance on the vast lands in the area were deceiving. “Isn’t this the direction I told you to go originally?”

  “No one likes a know-it-all woman.”

  She grinned at his disgruntled tone. “Or one that’s right. At least I got some great photos of the sheepherders and their flock.”

  “Always glad to be of service.”

  She laughed. Captain Tapahe had insisted she not come alone. But she had made sure Eddie was fully apprised of the possible danger. Her caution had been lost on him. He showed even more excitement about the slight risk than he did at the possibility of more billable hours. She hadn’t argued when he’d brought his rifle along. After being used for target practice, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  It took a half hour to get close enough for a good view of the looming rocky hillside. They hadn’t passed anyone except the two men watching over the grazing flock of sheep. “Take a wide swing around it. Maybe the shaft opening is on the other side.”

  Eddie obediently did as she asked, though it took another forty minutes to come around the land mass. Delaney brought the binoculars up again, scanning the rough-hewn striated sandstone for anything that resembled an opening. Smaller red rock formations made it impossible to get closer in the vehicle, and obstructed her view. “Slow down.” Eddie obediently slowed to a crawl. “I can’t really get a good…wait. What are those up ahead?”

  Eddie squinted. “Look like old railroad ties. Or what’s left of them.”