by Aimée Thurlo
He tore his gaze away, his hands curling into fists as he clamped down on his thoughts. Fox wasn’t the type of woman a man could take and then leave. It was up to him to see that nothing happened that they’d both regret.
AS NIGHT SHROUDED the upland desert, Fox stood beside the curtain, staring into the gloom. “It’s dark now, let’s go. Ashe can pick up the bottle when he’s ready, whether we’re here or not.”
“All right, we’ll leave, but let’s do it as quietly as we can. I’ll drive the carryall to the door, and you can join me. Don’t lock up, and don’t turn out any lights.”
“I’ll turn on the radio, too, and leave it on. That’ll mislead anyone who comes up.”
Hearing a vehicle approach, Travis started across the room to check it out. He was halfway there when the living-room window shattered, and a large rock bounced off the far wall. A bottle with a fiery rag came flying in next and smashed against the edge of the coffee table. They could hear the sound of someone running away outside as the smell of kerosene filled the air. Flames erupted on the sofa and spread almost instantly to the curtains beside it.
Fox ran toward the back door, but Travis caught her in the hall and pulled her down to the floor. “We can’t go out that way. The fire is just a diversion to force us out the back door into an ambush. That’s where he ran after throwing the fire bomb.”
“We’ll die if we stay in here! The house is filling up with smoke.”
He urged her into the kitchen, picking up his pistol from the table and jamming it into his belt. “Stay down and out of sight and breathe through a wet towel. I’ll bring the carryall right up to the side and you can slide out the kitchen window.” He climbed onto the counter and cut the screen away with a quick slash of his pocketknife.
“I’ll get the cell phone. It’s still in the front room,” Fox said.
“Leave it. Just be ready to climb out the second you hear me pull up.” Travis looked around. “Now we need our own diversion. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared for less than fifteen seconds, then returned with a big plastic bag full of firecrackers. Fox already held a damp towel to her nose and mouth, fending off the smoke thickening the air.
“You got those from Dad’s desk. He was always confiscating fireworks from his students,” Fox remembered. “You want me to light them?”
“Exactly. Just as soon as I go out the window, throw them into the flames in the living room. It should pin them down for a minute or two, at least.” Travis handed her the entire bag, containing at least two hundred of the noisemakers.
As Travis crawled out the window and dropped to the ground, fear choked the air from her lungs, but Fox managed to pull the firecrackers out of the bag and throw them in handfuls against the flaming living-room curtains. They started exploding immediately, like machine-gun fire.
Thirty seconds later a few were still popping randomly when she heard the carryall pull up. Fox was on the counter and out the window in a second. She dropped to the ground in a crouch beside the vehicle. Travis had thrown the passenger door open and Fox dived into the front seat.
An instant later someone shouted, then bullets from somewhere behind them peppered the back of the carryall. As Travis floored the accelerator and shot down the gravel driveway, Fox slammed the door shut. The vehicle bounced hard on the uneven road, making it almost impossible for her to fasten the snap of the seat belt. Finally it clicked into place.
Just as she wondered if the shooting would ever stop, it did. A trickle of relief touched the edges of her mind when suddenly a bright, white flash lit up the inside of the carryall. The powerful explosion that followed rocked the earth beneath them.
With a startled cry, Fox looked back. The Johnson home, a quarter of a mile behind them, was now a wall of angry flames.
Chapter Four
Travis’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror often as they drove down the two-lane country highway. The route he’d chosen was full of small side roads they could turn onto if necessary, and traffic was light. “We’ve lost them.”
Fox shook her head. “I don’t think they ever tried to catch us once we got to the highway. They’d already accomplished what they’d set out to do. Casey told me not to take this personally, but how can I not do that? They’re deliberately cutting me off from my past and leaving me with no place to go.”
Travis wanted to hold her and whisk her away to where nothing would ever hurt her again. But fairy tales were no part of the hard, cold world he knew.
“Life is filled with new opportunities,” he said. “No one can steal your past. It’s not only within you, it’s all around you.”
Fox said nothing for several minutes as they continued along the highway, heading east toward Farmington. The lights of scattered houses were visible from time to time along the river valley. The familiarity of the scenery comforted her. “Do you ever miss your life here?”
He considered his answer carefully. “Sometimes I do. But the job I’ve chosen gives me a sense of purpose I’ve never found anywhere else. I’ve learned a lot as a Ranger— about myself, and about the world in general. Every day brings challenges that require all my training and skills. I like that.”
Fox said nothing. She understood Travis very well. For him, the greatest security would always be found in movement. To remain anyplace for too long meant roots, emotional commitment and eventually stagnation. To him, that was the same as a death of the soul. The Johnsons had taught her that the Navajos began as nomads, wandering all over the West. Travis was closer to the old ways than he suspected.
“I have to stop and make a phone call,” he said, pointing to an all-night gasoline station ahead. “I need to tell Ashe about the attack and assure him we’re fine, but I won’t tell him what our plans are. I trust my brother and Casey, but I can’t say the same thing for everyone in their chain of command. I think the less they know, the better it’ll be for all of us.”
“I agree. But we’re still going to have to arrange to meet with Ashe somewhere. We need another cell phone, and some camping equipment would probably come in handy, too.”
Travis nodded. “I’ll have my brother meet us south of Shiprock and bring what we need. I’ll also ask for a two-way radio. There are too many places around the Rez where a cell phone is virtually useless.”
Fox waited in the carryall while Travis made the call. She could feel danger closing in all around her. Yet, as her gaze came to rest on Travis, some of her fear eased. She studied his straight back and his broad, muscular shoulders. Everything about him radiated confidence and power. Slowly, a different kind of tension began to spread through her. His sexuality packed a wallop that was impossible to ignore.
As Travis strode back, she could sense his determination.
“We have to stay low and wait a few hours before going to meet Ashe. He needs time to gather up the things we need, and also has to stop by the house and talk to the arson team.”
She said nothing. The acrid scent of smoke on her clothes was a constant reminder that the only home she’d ever known had been destroyed.
“It’s okay, Fox,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “We’re tougher than they are.” He gave her an encouraging grin.
As his eyes met hers, her breath caught in her throat. Light and shadow played on his face. He was like the desert that surrounded them, filled with mystery and a power that remained forever untamed. She wondered if any woman would ever claim his wild heart.
With a soft sigh, she looked away. There were other, more important matters to be faced now. “If what these people want is to bring me to my knees, they will fail,” she said.
“I know,” Travis replied.
After killing two hours driving around, they finally stopped near an old shack several miles off the main highway. Not long after that, they heard a vehicle approach.
Travis studied it closely. “It’s Casey and my brother. But there are two men with them I don’t recognize. Let me get out and meet them first. My brother wo
uldn’t have brought them here if they weren’t to be trusted, but I want to see what’s going on for myself.”
“Ashe is saving you the trouble,” Fox pointed out. “He parked the car and is coming over here.”
Ashe stood by Travis’s door a few seconds later. Assuring them that everything was okay, he led them back to meet the others who were standing with Casey by the unmarked tribal-police vehicle.
The presence of two men wearing business suits during summer put all of Travis’s instincts on alert. They were either city cops or lawyers.
Casey gave Travis a quick nod, then smiled at Fox. “This is Marc Gray, my boss and the U.S. Marshal in charge of this district,” she said, gesturing to the middle-aged, slightly overweight man beside her. “And this is Deputy Marshal Carl Andrews, our technical expert,” she added. The short, youthful-looking deputy with close-cropped blond hair looked out of place in the suit. He had a bored expression, but his brown eyes were as sharp and alert as a falcon’s.
Fox shook hands with both men.
“I’ve brought them here because we all need to talk,” Casey continued. “I’ve spent the last few hours trying to gather more information about your biological parents and, in the process, I’ve uncovered some very disturbing facts.”
Fox didn’t flinch, she didn’t even move. Once again, Travis couldn’t help but be impressed by her courage.
“Go on,” Fox said.
“Figuring that the Phoenix police might have something that wasn’t included in our files, I accessed their data banks. But then I found there was no open case on record matching the details and the date of your parents’ murder.”
“I don’t understand,” Fox said. “Was the murder solved at some point, or did the Marshals Service confiscate the data file?”
“Neither, and that’s what puzzled me. The initial crime report was taken by the local PD and should have been on record. At that point, I decided to backtrack, cross-referencing against the data we have in our WITSEC file. I was trying to find a link between our records and theirs.”
Fox nodded. “You were thinking it was misfiled or mislabeled?”
“Exactly. That’s why I did a more comprehensive search, looking for possible key words that would link our files to theirs. I learned that your real parents’ names, prior to them being given a new identity, were Yuri and Raya Sorge. But then, when I tried to get further information about their case, the computer told me that no one by that name ever entered WITSEC.”
“But that’s got to be wrong,” Fox said.
“It is. We know your parents were protected witnesses. So that leaves us with only one possible explanation. Someone tampered with our case files.”
“What about talking to the marshal who originally handled the case? I certainly don’t recognize the names you mentioned,” Fox said.
“Unfortunately he passed away several years ago,” Casey said.
“The hard copies we have on file reflect what’s in the computer now,” Gray added. “We’ve searched for the original documents, but my guess is that they’re lost forever.”
“How did someone break into your computer files? You must have your databases password protected and encrypted,” Fox said.
“We do. My guess is that we’re up against a very gifted hacker,” Andrews replied.
“Or a traitor in your ranks,” Fox said flatly.
Gray nodded, his face hard. “That’s been a possibility all along, though we did hope that problem was solved after we arrested Prescott.”
“If the information in my case file is not accurate, that means we know even less than we thought we did.” Fox leaned back against the vehicle and regarded them thoughtfully. “But there are a few facts we can rely on. Prescott was someone connected to my past. I knew him from somewhere—though I don’t know any more than that. Also, he obviously thought I was enough of a threat to come after me. And someone else considered him so dangerous that it cost Prescott his life, once he was taken into custody. Now it looks like they’re after me.”
“All true,” Gray said.
“What I’m doing now is trying to find anyone who worked with your family’s original case handler,” Casey told her. “That person might be able to give us a few leads, like maybe your family’s real name. And yours.”
“Whether we like it or not, it looks like the details of my past are only known to my enemies now,” Fox said.
“You can count on one thing,” Travis said. “They won’t get to you. The WITSEC Program may have a leak, but I’m a wild card they weren’t expecting.”
Ashe’s eyebrows rose. “Ain’t that the truth.”
TEN MINUTES LATER, as the others drove off, Travis stood by the back doors of the carryall, stowing away the equipment and supplies Ashe had provided. The cell phone had already been placed on the front seat. Travis looked over the radio, checking it out, and making note of the frequency Andrews had assured him would always be monitored. Satisfied, he placed it inside the vehicle.
“You never told them about the photo,” he commented.
“I can’t bring myself to trust two men I’ve never met before, particularly when we know that there’s a leak in their department. I’ll tell Ashe and Casey later.”
Travis nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s the way I felt about it, too, and why I didn’t say anything, either.”
“What now?” Fox asked as they climbed back into the vehicle. “Any suggestions?”
“We should go up to Ashe’s and my mountain lodge for tonight,” Travis said after a moment. “We need someplace indoors where we can unpack and sort through all of Nick’s tax papers. I think we should follow through on your idea to make a list of all the places they lived or worked at in the Four Corners area. But then we should turn that information over to Ashe and Casey. We can help out more by steering the police and deputy marshals in the right direction than by becoming targets.”
Fox didn’t argue, but she had no intention of going along with that part of his plan. She had her own agenda to follow and she intended to see it through. But she did need that list of addresses before she could take the next step. The cabin near Rock Ridge, admittedly, would be a great place to work without interruptions. Ashe and Travis’s own parents had built the wooden one story lodge years ago, and the boys had decided to share it with their new family. It had become a special haven to all of them—one that few people outside the family knew about.
They arrived at the mountain lodge two hours later after a slow, bumpy ride through Rock Ridge into the mountains west of there. Every part of Fox’s body ached with exhaustion. Though she hadn’t been physically tasked, the emotions that were tearing her apart had drained her. She was angry, frustrated, and anxious to deal with her demons.
They carried the basics inside and, as Travis searched the contents of his athletic bag, she sat down on the sofa.
“What are you looking for?” she asked wearily.
He pulled out a small roll of clear plastic fishing line. “I’m going to set out some trip wires as an early warning system. With both of us tired, we need to hedge our bets.”
“Good idea. Let me help,” she said.
“Okay. Bring the empty soup cans that are in the bag.”
Outside, on the small forest path that led to the lodge, Travis got down to work while Fox held a flashlight. He threaded clear fishing line through holes he punched through the tops of the cans, then put a few pebbles in each can. After fastening the line at both ends, he concealed the entire thing with brush.
“That’s as good as I can make it. Though I suspect that the people after us may have some training, it’s dark, and with luck, they won’t spot this line until it’s too late. And if they try to come up on us through the forest to avoid the path, there’s enough brush around to make their passage extremely noisy. We’d still have plenty of warning.”
Fox turned off the flashlight. As she looked at Travis and saw the glow of the moon reflected in his eyes, her pulse quickened.
There was a wildness in him that fit perfectly with these surroundings. As Ashe had said many times, Travis was as gentle and as dangerous as Wind, the fourth guardian of Sun’s house. Wind had supporting power, and could be beneficial or destructive. With Fox, Travis was like a soft summer breeze, soothing and caressing. To her enemies, he’d be like the gale-force winds of a storm, leveling whatever stood in its way, showing no mercy.
She was safe with Travis beside her. Or was she? Her eyes strayed to his mouth and, for the millionth time, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him now that they were both adults.
“You okay?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She felt her cheeks grow hot, and was grateful that the dark would hide that from him. “I’m fine.”
Daydreams had their place, but knowing when to indulge in them was the key. Sometimes it was just too dangerous. When you wanted something really badly, logic had a way of getting all scrambled. Obstacles that should be as plain as day would become harder to see clearly. If she allowed Travis and herself to grow close, saying goodbye to him when he inevitably left, would be as bitter as a winter storm. It was foolish to tease her heart with images of something that could never be.
They were halfway back to the lodge when she stopped in mid-stride. “If the people after me have some of your training, they might just be expecting a trip wire. We should use that knowledge to our advantage. Since we have three more soup cans we haven’t used, why don’t we set up a second trip wire here? Then we can go back and make the other one a little more visible. When they spot that one, they’ll get complacent. Then, when they least expect it, they’ll encounter the one here.”
“Every once in a while, you’re positively brilliant,” Travis said, giving her a crooked grin.
“I’m brilliant all the time. It’s just your ego that keeps you from admitting it,” Fox countered.