Redhawk's Return

by Aimée Thurlo

  Fox made a derisive sound. “I really don’t understand you, you know. You said you enjoy a challenge and not knowing what each day will bring. From that standpoint alone, you should be deeply grateful to be part of my investigation.”

  He groaned. “It’s not your investigation.”

  “Sure, it is. I’ve got more at stake here than anyone else.”

  He would have argued with her, but he knew it would be futile. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Now stop trying to evade the issue. What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve been thinking of those account numbers that everyone seems to want, and I’ve got an idea.” She shifted to face him more squarely.

  Travis saw the flash of excitement in her eyes and the restless anticipation that made her entire body vibrate. His thoughts suddenly shifted to another time when he’d felt her trembling in his arms. Everything feminine in her had reached out to him in expectation.

  He quickly looked away, cursing the passion that clawed at his gut every time he looked at her.

  “I know I don’t have those account numbers,” she said. “My parents didn’t, either. They were protected witnesses, and their few possessions were taken into government custody. If anything had been there, the U.S. Marshals Service would have found it. The crooks don’t have the numbers, either, so that leaves only one possible answer.”

  “That they’re still inside the house in Santa Fe, hidden someplace,” he finished for her.

  “That’s it. We need to go back there.”

  “Let me call Casey and my brother. They can meet us there.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t. Don’t you see? Our most dangerous adversary is still the inside man at the U.S. Marshals Service. Casey is part of that organization and may inadvertently trust the wrong person. If that happens, we could all end up dead.”

  “My brother and Casey are the only allies I know we can count on. If we’re going to that house again, we’re going to need backup. McNeely won’t be far away, believe me. He doesn’t give up—ever.”

  “Okay. Let’s compromise. We’ll meet with Casey and Ashe somewhere else and sound them out to see what progress they’ve made on the case. If they’ve found the leak, we’ll play it straight. Otherwise we’ll keep what I suspect about the account numbers being hidden at the house to ourselves. The Gruppa has probably searched the house many times, but let’s not point out that we believe they’ve missed something.”

  “You don’t get my point. I don’t want to just meet with them. I want backup if we’re going to the house.”

  “I know, but the disadvantages outweigh the advantages. Remember that if Casey does come along with us, she’ll have to play it by the book. She’ll need search warrants and that will mean getting more people involved. By the time all the legalities are covered, we’ll have lost the small edge we have now.”

  “All right. That’s a good point. Let’s see if they’ve learned anything new from Lazarev and play it by ear after that.”

  Travis stopped at a pay phone. He made arrangements to meet his brother and Casey, filled them in on what they’d learned about the car dealership, then rejoined Fox.

  As they drove toward the rendezvous, a place halfway between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, Travis could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “My brother let me know that they’ve made substantial progress though they still don’t have the sniper who killed Prescott, but he wouldn’t give me any details on the phone. That was a good precaution, but I sure wish he could have come straight out with it.”

  “You’ve always preferred the direct route,” Fox said with a knowing smile. “But, in this case, I think Ashe’s caution was justified.”

  “Ashe used to say I’d make a great cop if only I could stop trying to solve problems by ramming headlong into them. Maybe it’s time I learned his way of doing things. I’ve got to tell you, the more I see of my brother’s work, the more I’m learning to value what he does. The tribe needs its cops far more than the country needs another Ranger.”

  “Are you thinking of someday joining the tribal police?”

  He smiled, then shrugged. “Only if I could outrank my brother. I don’t think I’d want him as my boss.”

  As they took the exit that led to a Rio Grande pueblo, he saw his brother’s tribal-police vehicle ahead in the dark by the roadside. Casey was standing beside Ashe, waiting. Travis remained next to Fox as they stopped and went out to meet them.

  Ashe glanced at Fox, then gave Travis a long, thoughtful look. Although Travis instantly schooled his expression into one of polite neutrality, he had a feeling Ashe had already read his body language and knew of his deepening feelings for Fox.

  “How are you holding up?” Casey asked Fox.

  “I’m keeping it together, all things considered.”

  “I’ve got some new developments to tell you about,” Casey said. “I had the police send me a photo of that missing car dealer. He’s the Russian man we now have in custody.”

  “That discovery should have rattled him,” Fox said. “Has he come clean?”

  “Not yet. He wants a guarantee of federal protection before he tells us anything about Prescott. But that’s not the way we work.”

  “So, basically, you’re in a standoff,” Fox said.

  “He’ll come around, especially now that we’ve confronted him with all those other outstanding warrants the Albuquerque police have on him. We’re in a stronger position. We just have to play it cool,” Casey said. “In the meantime, I did a search through other federal data banks for the name ‘Kiselnikova’ and I have some preliminary information for you. Your parents were accepted into WITSEC after testifying against the Boyebaya Gruppa. At the time, the gang was, among other things, extorting protection money from legitimate businesses, trying to gain a foothold in southern Arizona. Your parents’ testimony brought those activities to a halt, but in the process they became targets. The U.S. Marshals Service relocated them from Phoenix, Arizona, where they’d been living, to Santa Fe, New Mexico, and gave them new identities. At the time we didn’t know the gang was also operating here.”

  “Why were they kept in the Southwest at all?” Fox asked.

  “Your mother and father insisted. Your mother had asthma and she did better in the dry desert air than anywhere else.”

  “How did their enemies finally find them?” Fox queried.

  “I’m still piecing that part together. The Marshals Service records have been altered, so I have to verify everything through other agencies. From what I’ve learned, it seems your father loved horseracing. When he entered WITSEC, he was warned not to visit any tracks—that it would be a sure way for his enemies to find him. But, at some point, he decided to indulge his habit. Your mother and father were spotted, followed home and killed.”

  “And I witnessed their murders?”

  “Yes, we believe so,” Casey replied.

  Fox didn’t say anything.

  Feeling helpless and hating every second of it, Travis watched the interplay of raw emotions that flickered across her face. He’d gone through a lot of hardships in his own life, but at least he’d always known who he was and whom he could trust.

  “And I was taken to a foster home right after that?”

  Casey nodded. “You were actually taken into custody by Children’s Services before the U.S. Marshals came on the scene. An attempt was made on your life. By then, our people had the paperwork we needed to take custody of you and we placed you with your foster parents. We chose the one place we figured no one would ever think of looking for you—a very remote and unpopulated area of the Rez in northeastern Arizona.”

  “The Johnsons must have heard about me through their government connections and decided, somewhere along the way, to adopt me,” Fox reasoned. “Is that right?”

  “Nick Johnson worked for the U.S. Attorney’s office and that’s how he knew about the case,” Casey said. “Our office agreed that letting them go through with the adoption wa
s the best thing that could happen to you.”

  “The rest of what we have is speculation,” Ashe said. “We’re figuring that years ago, when Prescott was nothing more than just another punk, he was recruited by the Gruppa and sent to New Mexico to eliminate your biological parents. He knew the area, had no foreign accent, and wouldn’t be easy to trace back to them. He was probably kept in the dark about who they were, because he was expendable. Then, from the moment he did the hit for them, the Gruppa owned him.”

  “What about the bank accounts the crooks are looking for?” Fox asked. “Where did that money come from?”

  “We think your parents skimmed off some money the group was laundering, and put it into accounts no one knew anything about,” Ashe said. “From what we’ve pieced together, it got to be several million. That’s why they’ve never given up searching.”

  “Maybe my parents were planning to eventually negotiate a trade-off with the criminals—the money for their freedom,” Fox said. “They would have made sure the figure was substantial enough to give them real bargaining power. They were probably desperate to find a way to live a normal life. Living in hiding, always looking behind you in fear, is no way to live.”

  Travis noted that no one said anything. They respected Fox too much to try to fill her mind with empty assurances.

  “Come back with us now, Fox,” Casey said. “The answers you’re searching for won’t do you any good if you get yourself killed.”

  Fox shook her head and sadness tainted her words as she spoke. “There was a time when I was perfectly happy to let others make the decisions for me, and tell me what I should do. But I’m an adult now and I deserve the chance to call my own shots. I may not know much about my past, but I know myself and what I’m capable of accomplishing if I follow my instincts. I’ll see this through and finish what I’ve started.”

  “All right,” Casey agreed. “We’ll play it your way. But watch your back, and keep your radio handy. If you get in over your head, we’ll be there to back you up.”

  Fox glanced over at their vehicle, lost in thought. “Speaking of the radio...”

  “Are you having problems with it?” Casey asked.

  “I was just wondering about that beacon it’s supposed to have. Can you tell me for sure how to turn it off?”

  Casey went to their truck, and saw they’d disabled the radio beacon completely by disconnecting the battery contact. “You went to more trouble than you needed.” She turned the setting screw on the base of the unit with the screwdriver blade of her pocketknife. “That’s all you would have had to do. That breaks the connection.”

  Travis glanced at Fox.

  “Hey, I didn’t miss that look. What’s going on, guys?” Casey furrowed her brow.

  “We disconnected the battery after we found out we were being tracked much too easily by McNeely,” Fox explained. “Andrews told us how to turn it off, we thought, but when we verified it with Gray, he said it wasn’t off. He turned a different screw on the bottom. At that point we didn’t know whom to trust, so we interrupted the connection to the battery manually, just to make sure.”

  “You turned the same screw Andrews had us turn, by the way, only you went a full one hundred and eighty degrees,” Travis added.

  Casey dropped back against the side of the truck, lost in thought. “Andrews could have made a mistake. I doubt he’s even seen this new-model radio up close, and Gray isn’t a tech expert at all. He’s an administrator who hasn’t been in the field for years. I don’t think either man gave you the wrong directions on purpose,” she said slowly.

  “But you’re not sure,” Travis observed.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I have an idea,” Fox said, giving Travis a hard look, warning him to be quiet. “Let’s find out which marshal, Gray or Andrews, was in Phoenix when the phone call that first tracked down my whereabouts was made to the tribal police. That call, if you all remember, came from Phoenix.”

  “I’ll check, but I’ll have to go back to the office for that. There’s no way I can access the information out here. But I have to say that I seriously doubt Marc Gray would turn traitor,” Casey said flatly. “He’s too high up in the Marshals Service, which means he’s had countless heavy-duty background checks done on him. Andrews could be our man, but his record is spotless, too.”

  “Both need checking into, though,” Ashe said.

  “We’ll leave that to you, then,” Travis said. “It’s time for all of us to get back on the road.”

  Casey nodded. “Normally, I’d ask you what your plans are, but you know, for once, I just don’t want to know.”

  Her words echoed in Travis’s head as he waited with Fox by their own vehicle for Casey and his brother to drive off. A chill as relentless as an icy blade pried into him. There were too many deadly secrets dogging their steps now. Trust was no longer an option. Fox had been right not to take Casey into their confidence. Casey, in her own way, was as vulnerable as they were. Her loyalties to the people she served could affect her judgment at the wrong time.

  Travis glanced at Fox. There was a sadness inside her now, like a shadow over her soul. Obeying an instinct nearly as old as the land that surrounded them, he drew her into his arms.

  Fox melted against him, offering no resistance and inviting his caress. His lips pressed against hers. He thrust his tongue forward, joining their bodies in the only way that was possible to them.

  Though he cradled her head with his hand, the force of his kiss pushed her head back. He deepened the kiss, needing more, yet knowing it was not to be.

  With a groan, he slid his hands downward, pulling her hips up and rubbing her intimately against him. She gasped and whimpered softly and, in a storm of passion, he kissed away her soft cries.

  He broke the kiss slowly and reluctantly, knowing that in another second they’d both be lost.

  Her breathing was ragged as she looked up at him. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me like this for forever. What took you so long?”

  Travis grinned slowly, enjoying the taste of her that still lingered in his mouth. He recognized the glow of passion in her eyes and knew it matched his own.

  “We have to go,” he said, his breathing unsteady. “It’s too dangerous out here.”

  “You’re right about that,” she replied, her voice incredibly soft.

  He felt her drawing away from him and back into herself. Maybe it was for the best. Everything male in him wanted her complete surrender. But that sweet victory would carry too high a price.

  Even as he possessed her, he, too, would be possessed. And after that, neither of them would ever be the same again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fox kept her eyes on the road ahead. It had been so simple when she and Travis had been kids. He’d kissed her and sent a thrill all through her body. Back then it had been so magical. There had been no complications, except her dad calling out to her and interrupting the moment.

  Now everything was muddled. Travis was a man determined to remain alone. He wanted her—she sensed that—but he continued to guard his heart. She’d tried to build a wall around herself, as he’d done, but it seemed to crumble whenever he touched her.

  Fox ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, still tasting him there. Her heart had danced when he’d taken her into his arms. Then he’d released her and she’d died a little inside. She wrapped her arms around herself as if suddenly cold.

  “You okay?” Travis asked instantly.

  She knew then that he’d been watching her. She’d have to be more careful from now on. “I’m fine. We are going to the house now, right?”

  He nodded. “I don’t see a way around it, but we’ll have to be careful.” He paused, his expression thoughtful. “I know you believe the account numbers are hidden there, but what if they’re not? Have you given that possibility some thought?”

  “They’re there.”

  “These people who are after you have searched through every possible hiding place
, inside and out. You can count on it. And the police and government did the same thing years ago.”

  “I know. But, to me, all that says is that my parents really knew how to hide things. They were aware that, for security reasons, they might be forced to pack up and start over with a new identity at a moment’s notice. That’s why I’m sure those account numbers wouldn’t have been far from them at any given time.”

  “What if they memorized them? Or maybe a later tenant found the numbers and threw them away, not knowing what they represented?” Travis countered, playing devil’s advocate.

  “Then we’ll never end this nightmare. As long as any of these criminals are still alive, they’ll continue to come after me, thinking that I know where their money is.”

  As they reached Santa Fe, storm clouds were beginning to gather again, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Fox shuddered.

  “You’re okay,” he said softly.

  “I know all the scientific explanations for thunder and lightning. Yet, my heart still beats frantically and I feel this incredible urge to hide.”

  “But you don’t let your fears stop you. That says a lot about you.”

  Fox smiled. “I’m not brave. If I were, I’d force my memory into the forefront of my thoughts.”

  “Everything in life and nature moves at its own pace. It can’t be forced. It’s the same way with your memory, too. You can’t rush a harvest.”

  Travis parked the truck at the very back of the narrow driveway of the Santa Fe home. With the storm, and few streetlights in the neighborhood, it was extremely dark. As they walked toward the back porch, the wind rose, lifting dust and sand into the air.

  “Wind has supporting power. I think my brother would say this is a good omen.”

  Fox wasn’t going to argue with him. but she couldn’t bring herself to agree, either. The thought of facing a storm inside this house made her skin crawl.

  “Maybe you should look at storms the way Navajos do. A new perspective might help you deal with your fear.”

  “Go on,” she said.

  “We believe Thunder has the power to find things,” he said.