“Besides, I know what I’m doing,” Sunnie added forcefully. “My head is perfectly clear. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“We Dine need our clans and family. It’s the way we were raised. It’s who we are as Navajos.”
Her anger came swift and hard. It replaced the warm feelings she’d always felt toward Ben and the Brotherhood.
“I have no immediate family left on the rez, as you know.”
“Sunnie,” Ben began again, more softly this time. “I’m of the Big Medicine Clan. The same as you. That makes me your family. It makes most of the Brotherhood your family, too. You can’t turn your back on our teachings and traditions. If you do, all will really be lost. The Navajo Wolf will have won for sure.”
“I will do what I have to do.”
Ben shook his head with force. “No. Go back into hiding. Back to your temporary life.”
“The Skinwalkers are no longer looking for me.” She tried to reason with Ben. “Not since they tricked me and…left me for dead six months ago. They have no clue I’m not gone for good. You held a memorial for me and put my box in the ground. The Skinwalkers can’t possibly know I’m still alive and want to hurt them.”
“The Brotherhood needs things to stay that way for the time being, Sunnie. Tell you what—”
A buzz from Ben’s pager interrupted him. He pulled it off the holster at his waist and stared at the message.
“Your guy Santiago is back in the examining room now,” he told her as he replaced his pager. “His X-rays are waiting for me.”
Ben stared at her for a second. “As usual, we’re short handed. I’ve used a special herbal salve on his wound, one my wife designed that cures quickly. But would you go make sure the dressings over Santiago’s sutures are sufficient to hold him for a few days? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Sunnie nodded but clamped down on any further response. She didn’t care what Ben or the Brotherhood thought of her anymore. It was her life, such as it was, and she was determined to do the right thing. And the right thing for her—for everyone—was getting rid of the Wolf. After that, the whole world could stop going around, for all she cared.
“Keep Santiago company until I get there,” Ben told her. “Then you and I need to finish this conversation.”
Sunnie moved past Ben and out of the room without another word. Her flash of irritation cooled. Despite Ben’s persuasive arguments to stay out of it, the cold and calculating sniper was back and determined to finish the job she’d started before her worthless life was over.
Walking down the hall to check on Cisco brought another thought to her mind. What did he know of the Skinwalkers and the Wolf? Why had he been following them and could he lead her to the Wolf again?
She came to a decision. Those were answers she would have. Cisco Santiago was not leaving her sight until she had them.
Cisco tucked his T-shirt into his jeans. He’d promised to wait for the doctor, but he had no intention of doing it without his clothes. Checking on the stiletto in its secret compartment in his boot and then on the .38 he’d hidden in his leather jacket, Cisco was relieved to be fully dressed and armed once again.
His head had quit hurting when the doctor had deadened the wound in order to sew it up with a few sutures. Plus, Cisco had swallowed a couple of pain-
killers a while ago. There didn’t seem to be much need to stick around this clinic. He still had plenty of questions, though, and he had no intention of going anywhere without answers.
A soft knock on the closed door came, and a second later it opened as Sunnie slid inside. “Oh. You’re dressed already. But Dr. Wauneka is still checking your X rays. We should wait for him to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Everything is okay—considering that you shot me.”
Her chin jutted just a fraction. But her wide eyes clouded over with obvious guilt. “It was an accident.
You weren’t the target.”
“I figured that. So who should be here in my place?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug of one shoulder as an answer. “It’s a long story. You’re not Dineh, so I think I’ll save my breath.”
“Dineh. That’s Navajo, right? So because I’m an outsider I can’t understand your motivations for wanting to kill someone? Must be an interesting culture.”
Sunnie’s expression was edged with surprise, but in a second her eyes narrowed down to hard, cold slits. Who was this tough woman?
He’d memorized her complete physical description in about thirty seconds under these florescent lights. She was five-three without the boots. Five-four or-five with them. Weight one hundred even—or close. Her thick, dark brown hair had been pulled back in an untidy ponytail. She had intelligent amber-colored eyes and fine copper-colored skin. Her slender body was in excellent condition, with muscular calves and strong shoulders. The overall picture was starkly beautiful, but that didn’t tell him a thing about the woman inside.
“I need to check the dressing on your wound,” she said as her eyes turned sad. “Sit down in that chair, please.”
It was the bleak look that captured his attention and caused him to lose focus. He did as she requested but never took his gaze from her expressive face.
“How old are you?” he asked without thinking.
“None of your business.”
“Your eyes say early thirties, but your skin and body seem to say more like early twenties.”
Standing beside him, she bent and gently tugged on the bandages. “This needs a little more tape. Hold it.” Going to the cabinet, she turned her back on him so he could no longer see her eyes.
“I’d put my money somewhere in between. Twenty-eight?”
“Decent guess.” She turned and, with a clash of her gaze against his, began fiddling with the dressing on his forehead once again. “Sit still.”
“I thought you were a waitress. What does bandaging a wound have to do with that?”
“I’m only helping out. The clinic is short on staff.”
That wasn’t much of an answer. In fact, she hadn’t given him a decent response to even one question yet. But he would have the answers. She owed him that much.
The Navajo doctor entered the room. “Mr. Santiago, it looks like you have a concussion. The cut on your forehead will heal quickly—a few days and you’ll never notice it. But the concussion needs watching.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The doctor checked Sunnie’s work with the bandage and nodded his head in approval. Then he turned his attention back to Cisco. “I have no doubt you will be fine. But I wish we had a room for you here. Rest, plenty of fluids and ice packs on that goose egg are my prescription. Do you have family or friends nearby who can look after you?”
“No. But—”
“I’ll do it,” Sunnie volunteered, surprising Cisco. Her words said one thing, mirroring his intent, but he could swear her eyes were still shooting bullets in his direction, saying the exact opposite. Was it only guilt?
“That isn’t wise,” the doctor told her with a scowl. “You said you were going back to…work. You can’t do that and keep an eye on him, too.”
“I never said I was going back to work,” Sunnie said as she glowered at the doctor. “I’m on vacation for a few days. He should be fine in forty-eight hours. Right?”
Something was going on here that was making Cisco more curious than ever. These two seemed to be close, yet they obviously were in disagreement about something important. Watching her interact with this Navajo doctor made Cisco wonder if she might have a split personality.
Things were not adding up.
So he made a snap decision.
Chapter 3
C uriosity was killing him. His honed instincts were quivering. Whatever was going down here would end up being something he had to know in order to find his father’s murderer. That was the whole point of his being on the rez. Plain common sense told him that getting shot while following a lead could not be coincidence.
“I’d be grateful to you for helping out,” he told her before turning back to the doctor. “If it’s only for a day or two, I shouldn’t be much trouble. She seems competent enough, and you said I need to be watched. Why not her?”
The doctor didn’t seem happy about the turn of events. Cisco didn’t care. These people hadn’t done a whole lot for him up to now. But they would.
With obvious hesitation the doctor said, “All right. If you don’t mind being helped by the same woman who shot you, she’s capable. But eat lightly for today. Remember to get rest and fluids.” He turned then to talk to Sunnie with a furious look that didn’t make sense to Cisco. “Stay inside as much as possible. It’ll be safer that way.”
Cisco thought that a strange kind of order. But he had another pressing question he needed to ask, so he let it go.
“Are the cops on the way? When I called 911, they said they’d send someone over.”
“Investigator Hunter Long from the Tribal Police is waiting in my office. You can stop in and give him a statement before you go. Both of you.”
Many miles from Raven Wash Clinic and just across the San Juan River, the Skinwalker known as the Owl was giving secret instructions to one of the Skinwalker lieutenants loyal only to him. “I want to know where that stranger has gone. We’ve learned he is the owner of a skip-tracing firm in Los Angles, but that doesn’t tell us what he’s doing on the rez.
“I want him here,” the Owl continued irritably, “where I can interrogate him with all our resources. Go watch his car. It’s expensive. He won’t leave it for long. Find out who comes for it and then follow them. The car will eventually lead you to the man.”
The lieutenant had his orders and went off to follow them, leaving the Owl to worry about the stranger’s true intentions. Was he an undercover operative for some law enforcement agency? If so, the Skinwalkers might be in real trouble. It was bad enough that the Brotherhood had foiled most of their attempts at grabbing immortality. The Wolf was rich, but his power was quickly draining away.
The Owl was determined to be the next leader. But he had to make sure that when the time was right, there was an army left to lead.
Sunnie and Cisco were seated together on a couch in Ben’s office, sipping hot coffee and listening as Officer Hunter Long questioned Cisco’s statements. No one would mention it to Cisco, but Hunter was a member of the Brotherhood. Sunnie had called Hunter earlier, after she’d stolen a look at Cisco’s ID, and told him about the shooting.
“So you’re a bounty hunter, Mr. Santiago.” Hunter repeated Cisco’s words but shook his head. “Still, we don’t know what purpose a bounty hunter would have on the rez. The Navajo police haven’t received any alerts on wanted men in the area. You want to tell us why you’re here?”
“I own a skip-tracing firm, yes. But I’m not here on business. I’m visiting Navajoland on a private matter.” He sounded angry, irritated, for no good reason Sunnie could see. But something was bothering the man.
“You told Dr. Wauneka that you have no family or friends on the rez. So are you saying you’ve come alone to the Navajo reservation on a vacation?”
Sunnie watched as Cisco squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes. Her best guess was that something had just been said that wasn’t truthful. Did he have friends or family on the reservation he had failed to mention? If so, why?
She would’ve pegged the guy as some kind of cop. But a bounty hunter better fit the tough face and hard-eyed stares. She’d seen a lot of tough faces in the last few years, but this was the first one she would’ve been drawn to in a kinder, gentler time.
She’d taken the opportunity to really look in his eyes while she’d worked on his bandage. Those eyes that oozed sensuality. Brown streaks mixed in with gray that at times seemed to turn to smoke. She’d be willing to wager this guy had no trouble getting women to do whatever he wanted.
Most women. But not her. All she wanted from him was the truth.
“Look,” Cisco said with annoyance ringing in his voice. “Why am I being interrogated? I was the victim. This woman said she shot me in cold blood. And I’ve never laid eyes on her before this morning. Why aren’t you talking to her?”
Hunter handed the wallet back to Cisco. “I’ve already spoken with Sunnie. She claims it was an accident, and since you’ve just admitted the two of you have no previous connection, I tend to believe her.
“I was only curious about why a man with no obvious mission would be driving around the remote Navajo desert after midnight.”
Cisco slammed down his coffee mug and folded his arms over his chest. “None of your business.”
Hunter’s eyebrows went up, but Sunnie could see he’d hit a brick wall with the man’s motives.
“Fine,” Hunter said with a shake of his head. “But I’m going to give you my card. Call my cell phone if you change your mind and want to talk about…anything.”
He handed a reluctant Cisco the card. “As for the shooting, do you wish to press charges against Ms. Begay?”
Sunnie saw a muscle in Cisco’s jaw twitch. “Since she’s promised Dr. Wauneka she’d watch over me while I convalesce, I figure that should be punishment enough. No charges need to be filed.
“But I want to know the extent of damage to my car,” he added. “Can you give me the number of a towing service? I need to call my insurance company.”
“A local garage was called when you first came into the clinic. Mechanic named Junior Gashie towed it in. You can check with him as soon as we’re done here.”
Sunnie hadn’t much liked Cisco’s answer about the charges. The man had something in mind where she was concerned; Sunnie could feel his cloaked motives like a worm crawling under her skin.
But then, she’d promised to get her own answers. So she would deal with Mr. Santiago and whatever he had in mind all by herself. Later.
Cisco nodded his head, and Hunter turned to address her. “This isn’t totally over for you. After Mr. Santiago has recuperated, you and I will have another chat. For now, I just want that rifle.”
“What?”
“I’m confiscating the weapon, Sunnie. Turn it over.”
Her rifle? The one thing that had come to mean the most to her over the last six months? No way.
“Come on. Where is it?”
Folding her own arms over her chest in a mimicked move of Cisco’s earlier one, she narrowed her lips in a thin frown. She wouldn’t tell Hunter no, but he’d have to drag the location out of her.
“It’s in her Jeep,” Cisco volunteered. “In the locker box behind the seats. I made her lock it up before we entered the clinic.”
She spun on him. “Gee, thanks a lot.”
Hunter chuckled. “Yeah, I see where the two of you together is going to be a whole lot worse than jail time. Good luck with that.”
Oh, yeah. She would definitely deal with Mr. Cisco Santiago. Now she simply couldn’t wait.
Hell. Cisco tried to control his irritation. The shock of having to accommodate questions from one of the two men he’d promised himself to avoid at all costs still fueled the anger rushing through his veins. He’d had to use tremendous restraint just to stay quiet.
But in his own defense, it had been a blow looking into the face of a man who was supposed to be a stranger and seeing familiar gray eyes staring out at him. The anger had come up in his throat, fast and strong. Had Hunter Long been anyone else, any other cop, Cisco might’ve been more willing to talk to him.
As it was, the Rockies would have to move to the East Coast before Cisco allowed himself to be hooked into such a ridiculous situation. Imagine having to see his own half brother looking at him like the complete stranger he was. The whole thing had hurt, knowing the truth, and he wasn’t likely to repeat the experience.
Cisco flicked surreptitious glances at Sunnie as she drove them to the garage to check on his car. His initial
impression of her, sitting in the driver’s seat, had been of a bleak and calculating woman.
The first thing she’d done when they’d left the clinic was flip on large aviator shades that almost covered her whole face. They completed the perfect image of a stark professional killer. A woman who could stalk another human being without remorse. But he knew what her eyes were like under those dark glasses. Warm and sensual sometimes, sad and frightened at others. The haunted look in them was going to stick with him forever.
Still, she had been stalking someone out in the desert last night. He knew it. His half brother—Hunter Long the cop—knew it. And Ben Wauneka, the doctor, knew it, too.
Cisco just needed to figure out who the target had been. And to understand why, even after she’d shot him, he felt safer with her than he had since he’d entered the rez.
She slowed the Jeep, and the question came out of his mouth before he gave it a second thought. “Is Sunnie your real name?”
“Wh-what?”
“I mean, well, your disposition is not exactly what I’d call full of sweetness and light. Not with those dark looks and deep frowns.”
“Sunnie is the nickname I was given as a kid,” she said with a tilt of her head. “My maternal uncle gave it to me long ago. It’s what I go by now.”
“What’s your real name?”
Not answering, she pulled up outside a place with a sign that said Junior’s Paint and Body Shop and parked. “Looks like they’re getting ready to close. Your sedan is probably locked up for the night.”
Before unbuckling, he reached over and clamped down on her wrist. “I will find out, míja. That and everything else, too. I don’t give up so easily.”
She sniffed and ripped her arm from his grip.
They went inside the office and found the owner closing up. Sunnie introduced them, and Cisco got the feeling that here was another Navajo who was not thrilled to see her hanging out with a stranger like himself. So far, at least three of the locals seemed to know her well, shared some secret with her, but were not at all happy about seeing her.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 114