by Aimée Thurlo
Walking back to the car, Valerie remained silent. As she slipped into the driver’s seat, she gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to hide the way her hands were shaking.
Aware of it, Luca reached across and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Ease up. It’s all right,” he said, his voice low and deep.
“We should have had this killer behind bars by now. Instead, he’s playing mind games with us.”
“We’re closing in on him and that’s why he’s playing with us. He wants to mess up our thinking.”
Frustration ripped through her. She liked battles that were more out in the open, but everything in this case was shrouded in layers of secrecy.
“Just know that you’re not in this fight alone. You’re a strong woman who can handle herself, but it never hurts to have backup.” Luca took her hand and wove his fingers through hers.
The gentleness of his touch swept past her defenses. His strength was unassuming yet as solid as the mountains that loomed above them.
She’d spent her entire life proving that she could stand alone. Yet a part of her still yearned to be protected—even as she protected others. She’d branded that instinct her most powerful enemy, but for the first time in her life she was ready to honor that softer side of her heart. True strength came in many guises.
Chapter Twenty
Valerie phoned Browning and got him on the first ring. From the tone of her voice and her side of the brief conversation, Luca knew that his instincts had been right on the mark. Trouble—it wasn’t far from them now.
Valerie closed the phone, stuck it in her shirt pocket then glanced over as they got underway. “Browning’s at home, scared out of his mind. He’s convinced he’s the evil one’s next target because of something he’s uncovered. But he won’t tell me anymore until we get there. He wants us to come over ASAP.”
“Do you think he knows the identity of the killer?”
She shook her head. “I think he would have said so if he knew for sure just to take the bull’s-eye off himself. It’s more likely that he’s uncovered a lead to the killer’s identity and now he’s terrified. He said he’s going to write up his story this afternoon. It’ll run in tomorrow’s morning edition, but between now and then he’s got to stay alive—his words, not mine.”
The interstate helped shorten their travel time, but it still took them forty minutes to reach the road that led to Browning’s home. He lived out in the country, west of the adjacent city of Rio Rancho. The narrow dirt road crossing the desert plateau was filled with so many dips she had to cut her speed. Even so, they left a trail of dust that was visible for miles.
They’d just turned onto the gravel track leading to his house when they heard two shots in rapid succession. She pressed down on the gas, then slid to a stop beside a sandstone bluff fifty yards from the modest flat-roofed stucco dwelling.
Pistols in hand, they left the car, moving forward in a crouch, but there were no further shots. Using the few places that provided concealment to their advantage, they advanced toward the house slowly, covering each other.
Once at the open front gate, they slipped through, then circled around to the rear of the home, suspecting that would be the access of choice for an intruder. As they reached the rear corner of the house, Valerie did a quick visual search of the backyard. A small metal storage shed was in the far corner and there were tumbleweeds growing in a low spot. The rear door of the house was open, swinging slightly in the breeze. Valerie inched along the wall and peered inside but saw no one.
“Browning!” she called out. There was no answer.
“I’m going in. Cover me,” she said.
“Wait.” Luca grabbed her shoulder and stood rock still, listening. A weak, yet familiar voice was calling out to them.
Noticing a trail of blood leading to the shed, Luca broke into a run. “Call the paramedics!”
“Police,” he announced as he arrived, his back pressed up against the wall of the metal shed. The door was open about an inch.
“Guys, I’m here,” an unsteady voice called out.
Browning was huddled behind some bags of potting soil in the far corner and bleeding from a gunshot wound to his side. He had a dishcloth pressed against the wound, which had apparently stemmed the flow somewhat. When Luca drew near he could see that the man had lost a lot of blood.
“Who did this to you?” Luca asked, crouching beside Browning, weapon still in hand.
“Skinwalker,” he managed. He drew in a shaky breath. “He came to the house…shot me through the living room window. Must have circled around from the back…”
While Valerie watched, Luca did what he could to help the man, fastening the makeshift bandage in place with some duct tape he found on a small shelf.
As Valerie moved away, maintaining contact with the dispatcher on her cell phone, Luca noticed that Browning’s breathing was becoming shallower. It was clear he was fighting to stay conscious.
“He’s doing all this to challenge the Brotherhood,” Browning whispered. “He hates them, blames them for spreading lies about him. They…” Browning’s voice slowly faded away.
Luca checked Browning’s pulse. The man was alive but unconscious.
“Is there an ETA on the medics?” Luca said.
“Five minutes,” Valerie said, off the phone now and striding quickly toward the house. “I’m going inside. Maybe we can find something better to use as a bandage,” she said. “Stay with Browning.”
As he stood, Luca caught a whiff of something that got his immediate attention—fumes, like from a gas heater.
“No! Stay away from the house!” he yelled.
Hearing a loud pop, Luca dove and knocked her to the ground. A powerful wave of heat blew over them as the earth shook, and they were deafened by the blast from the explosion. His back and legs were showered with debris, cutting and tearing into his skin, but Valerie was beneath him, protected.
Heavy objects impacted all around them, then came a shower of shattered wood, roofing tiles and the rattle of thousands of objects as they descended back to ground.
Luca turned to look. The house, now less than a third the height as a moment earlier, was engulfed in flames and he was intensely aware of the heat and smoke.
“You’re on fire!” Valerie shouted.
She scrambled to her feet, brushing the glowing embers off his back, then yanked the shredded fabric off him, tearing away his shirt.
Needing to put more distance between them and the house, Luca grabbed her hand and ran with her back to the shed. The shock wave had slammed into the tiny building with great force and it was now leaning to one side. A section of its metal roof had caved in about a foot after being hit with what looked like a piece of the kitchen sink.
They checked on Browning, and the side of the shed was still intact. His breathing, though shallow, remained steady.
Valerie glanced back at what was left of the house. “Wow. His home—it’s gone,” she said, still gathering her wits.
“The skinwalker must have loosened a gas connection and made some kind of fuse,” Luca said, then gestured to his right. “There’s a trail of dust over there. He may have stayed around long enough to make certain the house went up. Let me go see if I can catch a glimpse of his car. I’m a faster runner than you. Stay with Browning until the medics arrive.”
By the time he reached the top of the rise behind the house, the vehicle was long gone. As Luca headed back he saw that a car, Browning’s if he recalled correctly, was parked on the road. Perhaps the reporter hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was home. The diversion obviously hadn’t worked.
As he drew near, Luca studied the ground. There was only one set of prints around the car and he suspected they’d match the boots Browning had been wearing. Searching even more carefully beyond the vehicle, Luca picked up the faint signs of another’s passage.
The skinwalker’s skill was evident here. He’d hidden his tracks by walking atop tufts of grass or stones wh
enever possible. In the few places where he’d had to cross bare ground, he’d obscured his trail by sprinkling sand over his footprints.
Luca concentrated on spotting what was out of place. That was the only way to track someone this skilled. He found where his enemy had parked, but even here the trail was nearly impossible to discern. The killer had taken care to park on hard ground.
By the time he returned to Valerie and Browning, the paramedics had arrived. Working quickly, they’d stabilized the wounded man, then loaded him into their unit.
Valerie and Luca stood together as the ambulance pulled away, sirens wailing.
“Browning’s notes and whatever else he had in his home are gone now,” Valerie said. Then, hearing another set of sirens off in the distance, she added, “If that’s the fire department, they’re way too late.”
“I wish Browning could have told us the rest of his story, but from the looks of it, that’s not going to happen anytime soon,” Luca said.
“I’ve made arrangements to have an officer protecting Browning at the hospital,” she said.
“That’s good, but we need to go a step beyond that,” Luca said. “A Navajo investigator should be present there, too. If the killer returns to finish the job, he may not be carrying a firearm. He could decide to use the weapons of a skinwalker instead.”
As they walked around the burning building, keeping their distance from the heat, Valerie became aware of everything about Luca. Seeing his naked chest gleaming against the chaos of the flames brought back memories of last night. In those precious hours she’d discovered magic in her lover’s touch. And afterward, resting her head against him and listening to the strong beat of his heart, she’d found a peace beyond imagining.
Now evil had once again gained the upper hand, and duty called to her. “I’ll request that a Navajo deputy or APD officer be assigned to the hospital.”
“We’ll need more than a police officer who happens to be Navajo,” Luca said. “This job will require someone who knows the evil one’s tactics and is trained to counter them. We need someone with credentials…similar to mine.”
“You’re thinking we should get a member of the Brotherhood for the job, aren’t you?” she asked him in a quiet voice.
He said nothing for an eternity. “I’ve never spoken about this to an outsider, but you’re closer to me than my own heartbeat,” Luca said softly. Then, cupping her face in his hands, he continued. “What I’m going to tell you is something that you’ll have to keep secret for as long as you live. Will you agree to do that?”
“Yes.” Valerie held her breath and waited. This was what she’d dreamed of, to draw closer to him in ways that went beyond the physical.
“What you’ve suspected is true. I’m part of the Brotherhood of Warriors. We work in the shadows and do what needs to be done.”
“I’ll never betray you,” she whispered, her heart singing.
Before she could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed her, parting her lips slowly, and loving her in the way only he could.
As she ran her hands over his shoulders in a slow caress, his muscles tensed under her touch and she could feel him struggle to hold himself in check. She drew back slightly and met his gaze. “You’ve shown me miracles,” she whispered in awe of the multilayered world of feelings and tradition he’d opened to her. “No Brotherhood legend could compete with the man you are.”
“I’m no legend, just flesh and blood,” he said, kissing her again. “There are many things I want to say to you, but this isn’t our time,” he said, letting her go and stepping back. “To stay alive we’ll need to stay focused. It’s our only chance. Afterward…”
The promise of that one word wrapped itself around her, awakening all those secret longings she’d spent a lifetime denying.
Before either could speak again, the fire truck arrived and the firemen began to work. “I’ll arrange to have one of my brothers guard Browning at the hospital. He can back up whoever your department assigns,” he said.
“Unless the person you’ve got in mind is also a police officer, there’s no chance of that happening,” Valerie warned.
He smiled. “You’re underestimating the influence the Brotherhood of Warriors has. After I make my call, your department will probably get a request directly from the governor’s office.”
Her eyebrows rose. “That’s some clout.” Valerie walked back with him to the car. “The killer knows about the Brotherhood. Do you think he also knows you’re part of them?”
“He might suspect, but he won’t come after me directly. He’d much rather I see what he’s capable of doing right under my nose. It’s his way of telling the Brotherhood that he’s in control—not us.”
“Makes sense,” she said with a nod. “Go ahead and do whatever you have to do to get things rolling,” she said, turning for one last look at the burning remnants of Browning’s home.
Using the cell phone he’d been loaned, Luca dialed then spoke in Navajo for several minutes. When he ended the call, he looked over at her and noted that her expression had become guarded.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“We come from two such different worlds,” she said softly. “I never belonged anywhere until I became an officer, but you have the force, your tribe, your brothers….”
“You have the department, including the deputies and officers you’ve worked with for years—and you have me,” he said. He drew closer to her, but, aware of the others nearby fighting the blaze, made no move to touch her. “We’re not so different, you and I. We’re both driven by a need to make a difference, to make things better and safer for everyone else. It’s our dedication to that battle that drew us together.”
“Destiny…My mother used to talk about things like that—and I used to think she was nuts,” Valerie said with a sheepish smile.
“We’ve both learned new things. The Navajo Way teaches that only by coming together are a man and a woman complete. I never really understood that—until you became part of my life,” he said, gently brushing the side of her face with his hand.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“Afterward,” he answered.
Even as she tried to prepare herself and accept the inescapable fact that one day he’d leave to go back to his world, a spark of something that wouldn’t die flickered within her. Recognizing it, Valerie clung to it, and for the first time in her life yielded to the power of hope.
THE HOUSE WAS NOTHING more than burning embers now, and the fire marshal and crime scene unit were standing by waiting to sift through what remained for clues.
After grabbing a police jacket from the back of Valerie’s car, Luca took in the scene. “We never checked Browning’s car. It’s parked out back.”
“Then let’s go take a look,” she said, letting him lead the way.
They soon found Browning’s yellow sports car with its faculty parking sticker, and not wanting any more surprises, began with a visual search.
“Nothing beneath it,” Luca said, after crawling out of the undercarriage.
“I’ve looked through the windows, too, and there are no signs of problems inside. The perp didn’t break in and the notebooks and papers on the floor don’t look like they’ve been recently disturbed. There’s a fine layer of dust on them.”
“Okay, let’s see if we can open the door.” Finding the car locked, Luca reached into his pocket. “Time to improvise.”
He brought out a small key-like tool attached to a ring and opened the lock within a few seconds.
“Did you learn that little skill at the police academy or spy school?” she asked with a grin.
He laughed. “None of the above. You’d be surprised what a poor kid from the Rez learns growing up.”
Luca searched through the stack of papers in the backseat while she opened the glove compartment, which wasn’t locked. “There’s nothing special here, just three parking permits for the anthro department and a small notepa
d,” she said, then opened it. “He’s got several names and phone numbers listed—and here’s one I recognize. It belongs to Michelle, Captain Harris’s secretary, but this isn’t Harris’s office number. I think it might be her cell number.” She paused, then looked over at him. “I think we may have found the department’s leak.”
“You’re thinking she gave Browning the information about the GPS?” Luca asked.
“That’s what I’m guessing. And here’s something even more interesting. Browning’s got Becenti’s office and home phone number.”
“If we can get a look at phone records we can establish the level of contact between Browning and Becenti. He may have been Browning’s Navajo source all along, not one of the university students as we’d originally thought,” he said.
“So Becenti jumps to the top of our suspect list,” Valerie said. “But we still can’t rule out Finley. He also has the background and resources to have learned how to play the role of skinwalker convincingly.”
“I tend to think Becenti’s a more likely candidate, but maybe that’s because I just don’t like the guy,” Luca said after a beat.
“Why? What is it about him that bothers you?”
He considered his answer. “It’s like Deez said. Navajo ways are far more than an interesting body of knowledge to analyze for three hours of college credit. Did you know that we don’t even have a word for religion in the Navajo language? Our spiritual beliefs are woven into our everyday lives and are inseparable from them.”
Valerie considered everything they’d learned, and after a long thoughtful pause said, “Let’s go to the college. We’ll talk to Becenti’s teaching assistant and some of his colleagues and get a feel for who Becenti is—the man behind the professor, that is. Then we’ll take a closer look and see how good his alibi is for the time of the murders.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wanting to avoid Professor Becenti until they were ready for him, they checked his class schedule and found out that he’d be teaching for the next hour. They then proceeded to track down his teaching assistant, James Campos. The young man was a short, barrel-chested Indian with long black hair in a ponytail. To Luca, he looked like he was from one of the Pueblo tribes.