Navajo Courage

by Aimée Thurlo

  He tore off his clothes, crazy with needs. But before he could lay over her, Valerie shifted and moved on top of him.

  “I want to memorize everything about you,” she murmured, loving the way he shuddered when she ran her hands over him.

  “Stop,” he growled. “You don’t realize what you’re doing to me.”

  “I want you to lose control,” she whispered, driving him wild with gentle, warm kisses that burned through his skin and melted into his soul. She touched him everywhere, then at long last her hand closed in over him. His eyes darkened impossibly and he sucked in a ragged breath.

  With a groan that came from deep inside him, he grasped both her hands, pinned her back onto the mattress, and pushed himself into her. Mindless now, he knew nothing but the sensations that were driving him to lose himself in her.

  Valerie responded to his every thrust, opening herself even more to him.

  Engulfed in waves of pleasure, their bodies rocked together, and with his heartbeat roaring in his head, he poured himself into her.

  An eternity later, bathed in the wonderful afterglow, sanity slowly returned. “It’ll never be the same between us,” she murmured nuzzling into him.

  “Regrets?” he managed, his voice steadier now.

  “None,” she answered. “Tonight, we belong to each other.”

  “And tomorrow…is a new day,” he said at last, finishing her unspoken thought.

  Nestled safely against him, she pushed away logic and the whispered warnings at the back of her mind. Until daybreak, she’d remain in this beautiful world they’d created together and enjoy the warmth.

  THE NEXT MORNING while she still slept, Luca rose to greet the dawn. As his Song filled the air, he took a pinch of pollen from his jish and made the offering. “Now all is well,” he chanted, finishing the prayer.

  When he turned around, Valerie was standing there in the doorway, watching him. She was already dressed, and as he looked into her eyes, he saw an uncharacteristic trace of uncertainty in the gentle, soft woman he’d loved so intimately the night before.

  Her phone rang. She spoke hurriedly. After she finished she turned her attention back to him. Instantly, he saw the change in her. His gut tightened. All he could see before him now was his partner, the police detective.

  “We need to get going,” she said, her tone crisp and businesslike. “Captain Harris said that the trace evidence recovered from both cars the perp drove was no help.”

  “What did they find?” he asked, his tone as impersonal and detached as hers.

  “A few prints. They’re being traced, but unless the suspect’s in the system, that won’t help us at all until we have him in custody. The white car the suspect used to follow us was stolen the day before from a mall parking lot. Deputies are checking surveillance video, hoping to get lucky, but the ball’s back in our court now. And Harris made it clear he expects us to make progress soon.”

  From her attitude it was clear she was looking for a way to create distance between them. And she was right. They wouldn’t be able to function effectively as police detectives without it.

  His feelings for Valerie were strong, just one more reason for him to pull back. His work remained a big part of who he was, and there was no room for anything else in his life despite the cost. He’d failed one woman he’d loved. He wouldn’t risk that again.

  “I’ve already picked up our stuff and left some money to help pay for the clothing we took from Deez’s closet. Should we leave a note?” Valerie asked.

  “That’s not necessary,” Deez said.

  She jumped, surprised, and turned around. “I never heard you come up.”

  “You were focused on something else,” he answered with a smile. “Let’s go inside the house. There are things you need to know before you leave.”

  COFFEE CUPS IN HAND, they sat around the wooden bench-style kitchen table. Deez had insisted on making them breakfast, and hungry, they’d accepted.

  Valerie studied Luca and Deez. Though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, there was a connection between the two men that went beyond race.

  Despite everything Luca and she had shared, he remained a man of secrets. Before she could give that much thought, Luca glanced at her.

  “I think we should go talk to them,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Two of those Navajo students live in rentals just down the block,” Deez added. “They catch the bus to the university from the next street over.”

  Wishing she’d paid more attention to the first part of their conversation, Valerie remained quiet and looked at one man then the other hoping someone would fill in the gaps.

  “Some of our young people are fascinated by the old ways. They’ve asked me about the evil ones many times, too. They say they study all that at the college.” Deez shook his head and grew silent for several long moments. “Maybe one of them has been enticed by the power the dark ones have,” he added in a sad voice. “It happens, especially to the naive or disenchanted.”

  “Out of those students you spoke about, is there one who seems most likely to go down that path?” Valerie asked, instantly focused.

  He shrugged. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself. I’ve spoken to their college professor, Dr. Becenti, and warned him about openly discussing certain things, but he didn’t listen to me. He kept insisting that his academic integrity demanded that he teach the course his own way.”

  “What was your overall impression of Dr. Becenti?” Valerie asked.

  The old man hesitated. “He knows a lot about the Navajo ways,” Deez admitted slowly, “but it’s knowledge from the head and not the heart.”

  “So overall, you’d rather see someone else teaching that class?” Valerie pressed.

  “Yes. Teaching others the Navajo Way is much more than presenting facts for students to memorize. Professor Becenti hasn’t been able to accept who he is—not fully Anglo and not fully Navajo—and that slants his perspective on what he’s attempting to teach.”

  Valerie nodded, wondering if she’d ever find balance in her own life. She’d spent half of her life proving that she was as good as any man and hiding her feminine side, seeing it as a weakness others could exploit. Yet last night in Luca’s arms she’d discovered the power of gentleness.

  She shook free of the thought. Not now. “Let’s go talk to the students.”

  Together with Deez they made their way down the block to a rundown version of Deez’s home and waited by the low block wall that surrounded the property. Soon a young woman wearing the Traditional long skirt and a loose-fitting blouse came to the door. She waved, inviting them to approach.

  “Uncle, it’s good to see you,” she said, looking at Deez. “I heard about the trouble last night and was hoping you hadn’t been caught up in all that.”

  “I’m fine,” Deez assured.

  Stepping in front of Valerie, Deez went inside the house first, then Luca. Valerie followed last.

  The young woman smiled at Valerie as they entered together. “Our men don’t step aside and wait for women to lead. They always go first in case there’s trouble,” she added softly.

  Valerie smiled, understanding now what had seemed odd to her before.

  “My name’s Ann Tapahonso,” she said, looking at Valerie, then Luca. “I’ve got a lot to learn about the old ways, but I’m working hard to make up for lost time. I don’t think I’ll ever be a Traditionalist, but I hope, at least, to make a good New Traditionalist.”

  Deez glanced at Valerie and, with a grin, explained, “It’s our own name for the Diné who follow as many of the old ways as is convenient. They have hogans and cable TV.”

  The young woman laughed. “Well, yeah. But I happen to like cable TV.”

  “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Luca said, taking the lead. “I understand that you’re taking a university class on the old ways. Who’s in the class and how many students are enrolled?”

  “One dropped out after a
few weeks, so there’s about ten of us now. The majority are Navajos who grew up off the Rez and wanted to know more about our own culture.” She paused, then continued. “Most of us have learned to adapt to the Anglo world, but we still battle prejudice daily, and it’s easier to do that when you know who you are.”

  Deez nodded.

  Ann paused another moment before continuing. “Dr. Becenti at the college really understands that, too. He’s part Navajo but was raised like an Anglo and had to fight hard to claim a place for himself in both worlds.”

  “To your knowledge, does anyone in the group believe the Navajo Way has too many taboos and restrictions?” Luca asked.

  “You’re looking for the evil one,” she said with a thoughtful nod. “But most of us respect the limits—” Ann stopped speaking abruptly and looked down at her shoes.

  “But not all of you feel that way,” Luca said, sensing what she’d left unsaid.

  “Some of us want to be more than what we are,” she said quietly. “Like Cháala,” she said, then looked at Valerie. “It means Charlie.”

  “Tell us about him,” Valerie said.

  “He lives just down the street. I’ve been told that he’s tried several times to become a hataalii, but to do that you have to apprentice and memorize many Sings. He’s not interested in all that, so he keeps trying to fast-track the whole thing.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, she quickly added, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have a class in less than an hour.”

  After saying goodbye to her, Deez, Valerie and Luca met out on the sidewalk.

  “Do you know who she was talking about, this wannabe hataalii?” Luca asked Deez.

  He nodded. “Cháala Tso is a part-time student at the university, but I don’t think he’s your man.”

  “Why?” Valerie asked.

  “He respects our teachings at least enough to avoid contamination with the dead. A few weeks ago Mrs. Salas and her husband were in a car accident. He died in her arms. Since then, Cháala goes around the block just to avoid her. He may not be a hataalii, but he doesn’t disregard our ways or subvert them like an evil one would,” he said. Noting the position of the sun, he added, “Nephew, I have to leave you now. I’m expected elsewhere this morning.”

  “Go, Uncle, and thank you very much for all the help you’ve given us,” Luca said.

  “There’s one more thing,” he said in a low, thoughtful voice. “I’m no crystal gazer, but I can sometimes foretell things that have yet to happen.” Deez looked somberly at Luca then at Valerie. “You’ve both embarked on a difficult journey. Blood will be spilled and everything you’ve ever believed about yourselves, and each other, will be tested. In the end, neither of you will ever be the same,” he said in a heavy voice, then walked away before either could ask him more.

  Valerie glanced at Luca. “What do you think that means?”

  Luca took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “You tell me.”

  Even without looking directly at her, he sensed that she’d understood Deez, just as he had. Though they were both determined to deny their feelings, it was too late to turn back the clock.

  Blocking those thoughts for now, Luca glanced up the street. “I say we go pay Cháala a visit. He’s at the third house down.”

  “Wait a minute. How could you possibly know that?”

  “See that three-foot-high mound of rocks by the side of the front porch?” he answered.

  She squinted and eventually nodded.

  “It’s for success on a journey. In this case, I imagine it’s a journey of discovery. There’s also that buckskin pollen bag hanging from a nail on the post framing the porch. That’s to protect his home.”

  “Okay, let’s go talk to him.”

  As they walked over, Valerie glanced at him. “There’s a special connection between you and Deez. That’s the main reason we stayed in one piece after we encountered those angry neighbors. Right?”

  He said nothing, but this time she refused to accept his silence and pressed him. “Am I right?” she repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not just because you’re both Navajo either.”

  This time he didn’t answer. Some secrets were not his to share.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They were in front of the second house when Luca’s pace slowed. Valerie noticed it instantly. “What’s up?” she asked in a soft voice meant for his ears only.

  “I caught a glimpse of someone following us. He’s about twenty-five yards back, across the street and standing beside that white pickup.”

  “The GPS was never turned back on, right?” Valerie verified.

  “Right.” Luca reached up to touch the fetish around his neck. “I don’t sense danger, but someone’s back there, watching.”

  “Let’s cross the street and go past the trash bin in front of the house that’s being renovated. I’ll duck down and hide behind it while you go around the side of the house. We’ll trap him between us.”

  “Good plan. Let’s go,” he said.

  A few tense minutes later, Steve Browning strode past her hiding place. Muttering a curse, Valerie burst out from her cover and confronted him. “Browning, I’m beginning to think you have a death wish. How did you find us?”

  “I’d heard that you’d followed a suspect into this area last night. You also called the department this morning,” he added with a shrug.

  Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “I reported it in, but it wasn’t by radio. Who told you where we’d be?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “You know better than to ask me that.”

  Someone at the station was leaking information to him, and although it ticked her off big-time, there was nothing she could do about it—at least for now.

  “So what’s up? Were you on your way to question Cháala, the future hataalii?” he asked.

  “How did you know about him?” Valerie countered.

  “You spoke to Ann earlier. She and I were…friends for a long time. These days we’re both too busy with other things, but we stay in touch.”

  “What do you know about Cháala?” Valerie demanded as Luca came up from behind to join them.

  “I’ve met him a few times, and spoke to him on the phone recently. His full name’s Charlie Tso. He’s heard about the skinwalker murders—that has a ring to it, don’t you think?—and wants to protect the neighborhood. He’s been going on foot patrols every night. He’s sure that his own magic will protect him. And who knows? Maybe it would from a skinwalker, but it won’t do much against a mugger. In his shoes, I’d also be carrying a gun.”

  “We’re going over to talk to him now and I want you out of our way. Am I clear?”

  “Sure. It’s like I told you. All I want is the story.”

  Valerie and Luca headed to the house, and as they arrived, Luca stopped at the curb by the mailbox.

  “If we want to get anything from him, we’re going to have to wait out here until he invites us in,” Luca said. “I’m assuming he’s taken up at least some Traditionalist ways.”

  “Okay, we’ll wait.” Valerie stared down the street, lost in thought. “Do you think Cháala will turn out to be the perp?” She glanced back at the house before them, then shook her head. “Never mind. Things are never that simple.”

  Before Luca could comment, a stocky, young Navajo man opened the door. Standing in the entrance, he motioned for them to approach.

  As they reached the porch, Luca saw the prayersticks in each of the two corners closest to the door.

  “I knew you were here in our neighborhood,” Cháala said, looking at Luca. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “About me, or about what happened last night?” Luca countered.

  “Both. I know about last night. It’s not surprising since everyone’s on guard because of the evil one that’s on the loose. But I also know about you and your brothers,” he finished. “You, and they, helped a cousin of mine back on the Rez several months ago. He’s a Modernist who goes by the sa
me of Sam Pete. He’d been accused of working with a group of Anglos who were stealing cultural artifacts. You all helped him clear his name.”

  “I remember the case,” Luca said, eager to finish this before Cháala revealed much more.

  “Without the work all of you—”

  “I understand,” Luca said, interrupting him. As he glanced at Valerie, he knew it was already too late. Her curiosity and investigative mind were already working overtime. She knew that it wasn’t like him to interrupt anyone, and the second he’d done that she had made a mental note of it. He cursed silently, wondering how to duck the questions she was sure to be asking him later. Curiosity wasn’t enough to warrant revealing one of the tribe’s most guarded secrets. The Brotherhood would have to remain the stuff of legend to her.

  “The evil one you’re after has some very real powers,” Cháala continued. “That’s how he’s managed to elude the police, despite all their modern equipment and manpower.”

  “We’re getting closer every hour,” Valerie said. “We’ll catch the creep.”

  Luca knew pride when he heard it, and so did Tso.

  “The real problem is that the Sheriff’s Department doesn’t understand what it’s fighting,” Tso said.

  “So why don’t you enlighten us?” Valerie said.

  “He hides under the skin of a coyote, the Trickster, and can run as fast as lightning.”

  “So you’ve seen him?” Valerie asked instantly.

  Tso shook his head. “I don’t know who he is, just what he is.” He looked at Luca. “And so do you. That’s why you’re here.”

  Luca nodded once. “Do you have any idea who could be behind the deaths? Ritual killings like these require specialized knowledge.”

  The young man considered it for several moments. “Deez would know what’s necessary, but that man respects our ways. I’m sure he’s not responsible. I know something about those evil practices, too, but I’m not guilty either.” He suddenly glanced at Luca. “Is that why you came here? You thought I might be the evil one?”