So she hadn’t even seen any. Landry nodded. “But have you or Tarak seen one here, in town? In person?”
The older woman shook her head. “Once you join them as protector warriors, you live within the Superstitions. Your home is made there.”
“Vanessa, if Tarak finds them and joins them, and he isn’t seen again here, how will you know where to find him to join him?”
The deep lines across her forehead etched deeper. “The shaman told Tarak he will lead me to him, when the time is right.”
Sounded like mumbo jumbo to Landry, but hey, who was she to question someone’s way of life? “Did the copies of my map help Tarak?”
Vanessa nodded rapidly. “Tarak says he believes he knows the area where the Shis-Inday are standing guard now. Your map let him get a full view. We are to pray for direction for twenty-four hours; then Tarak will go join them.”
Landry’s gut tightened. “Tarak believes he knows where the cave is?”
Again Vanessa nodded.
Swallowing against a dry mouth, Landry struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Do you think Tarak could tell me? Or take me there?”
“No.” Vanessa shook her head. “I already tell you too much.” She backed out of the room.
“Vanessa, please. I just want to see the cave.”
“Dah. No indaa can go near the Shis-Inday.” Vanessa turned and hurried away.
“Vanessa, please.” Landry followed, but the older woman moved quite fast to the back of the motel’s office. “At least tell me what indaa means.”
The door slammed shut before Landry could round the corner. No sense going any farther. She headed back to her room, which stood wide open.
“White person.”
Landry stopped in front of her open door. Two doors down, a man of at least seventy sat in the chair outside his door, talking to another elderly man and smoking an old but intricately carved pipe. The fragrant smoke seemed to circle around his head. His long braids were white and his skin leathery, with deep etches lining his face. She didn’t know whether he was insulting her or trying to get her attention. Either way, his addressing her in such a manner still felt rude.
She really wasn’t in the mood. “Excuse me, sir?”
The man he’d been talking to rushed off, leaving the sitting Indian to stare at Landry. “White person.”
Landry didn’t want to go off on the old man, because his demeanor didn’t come across as intending offense. “What?”
He smiled as he exhaled. Smoke moved in puffs of circles from his mouth. “Indaa. It means white person.”
Nickolai waited until Phillip had disappeared into his motel room before rushing to Landry’s room and rapping quickly on the door.
She cracked it open. “Hey, you still have the Jeep keys.”
He glanced at Stan’s door. “Let’s go for a little walk, shall we?” He nodded toward the end of the motel rooms.
“Sure, now that I have the keys to the Jeep so I can get my room key.” She slipped her cell into her back pocket. Pulled her door closed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your room key was in the Jeep.” He put his hand on the small of her back. He didn’t know why his protectiveness seemed to go on high whenever she was around, but it sure seemed to. He led her past the old man, to the back of the hotel where there were some loungers set up for motel guests.
“It’s okay. It worked out for the best, and I’ll tell you all about it, but first, what did you find out from Phillip?” She adjusted her sling as she stretched out on the lounger.
He sat on the lounger beside her, sitting sideways to face her. He quickly filled her in on all he and Phillip had talked about, as well as what he’d observed. “And the nonverbal signs of deception … there were five or six. Phillip definitely knows more than what he’s letting on. I don’t know if that’s about Bartholomew’s murder, the map, or whatever is between Winifred and him and Stan, but the man is hiding something, that much I do know.”
“There’s something more there, that’s for sure. Stan told me that Winifred, Bartholomew, and Phillip were all friends before Winifred and Bartholomew were dating. According to Stan, one fell in love with another, but he didn’t specify who fell in love with whom.” She leaned her head back a little as the midday breeze skittered across the way.
She tucked a stray curl that had escaped the band-thingy she wore back behind her ear. “He said that he worked for Bartholomew before Phillip did, but once Phillip and Bartholomew reconnected, and Winifred and Bartholomew got involved then married, Phillip became much more involved in the business.”
Nickolai nodded. “Piecing together what we know, I’d venture to guess that Phillip fell in love with Winifred, but then she chose Bartholomew. Maybe for money?”
Landry shook her head. “Winifred comes from old money. She’d never have to marry for money.” That stray curl of hers moved against her cheek.
That was problematic to his scenario. “So maybe Winifred and Bartholomew fell in love. Maybe Phillip really is just a friend to them, separately and as a couple.”
“But that doesn’t fit with what I overheard Stan imply.” Landry shoved the hair back behind her ear and raked her teeth over her bottom lip.
He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
Nickolai swallowed and looked away. Guess it’d been way too long since he had a serious relationship if being in such close proximity to Landry made him think such crazy thoughts. “And along with that, what you heard Phillip imply about Winifred and Stan.” He ran a hand over his beard and looked at her. “This is getting complicated.”
“Complicated and convoluted. Does any of this make a difference in finding the map? Do their love lives matter in our investigation?”
“I don’t know, but I can tell you one more thing, my truck’s brake lines were cut.”
“What?”
Nickolai told her what the mechanic had said. “He’s filing a report with Officer Hogan this afternoon, but he’d already given him a verbal confirmation.”
“That makes three attempts to get us to leave.” Landry shook her head. “I don’t think either of us is close to finding the map, so why is someone working so hard to get us to stop investigating?”
“If we find out who’s responsible, we can uncover the motive.” He stared off blankly into the distance. The Superstition Mountains were a breathtaking sight to behold, even from this distance.
“There’s more.”
He met her gaze.
She told him she’d spoken with Vanessa, who described why her boyfriend needed the maps to find some hidden warrior Indians who were ancestors from his tribe. Landry explained the legend or folklore, but how Vanessa’s boyfriend, Tarak, truly believed it to be real.
“But most importantly, according to Vanessa, the copies of the map helped her boyfriend figure out where the warriors were in the mountains, and they’re always guarding the cave with the gold, which has to be the mine.” Excitement brightened her eyes until they were sparkling like the stars had been twinkling in the sky last night. “And she said they had twenty-four hours to pray before Tarak will go into the mountains to find the Shis-Inday warriors and the mine.”
“Why are they praying for twenty-four more hours? I’m no expert, but why take so long?” He’d never heard about anybody praying over something for a specific number of days.
“I don’t know.” She looked at him with confusion blinking in her eyes.
“Because it is a sacred number. If the Great Spirit instructed him to pray for twenty-four hours, then he must.”
Both Nickolai and Landry jumped at the old man’s voice. It was the man who’d sat in the chair a couple of doors down from Landry’s room.
“I do not mean to listen, but thought you need enlightenment. I can help you.”
Nickolai looked at Landry, who lifted her unhurt shoulder. “He helped me understand something Vanessa said,” she said.
Maybe he could shed some light on the
situation. Nickolai motioned for the man to join them.
The older man settled slowly onto the end of Nickolai’s lounger. “Apache tribes have long called the Superstition Mountains the devil’s playground. Some say back before father time kept track, Naiyenesgani, the creator god, settled in the valleys between the peaks. Our people know the Superstitions owe their life to a time of big fire and explosion, born from volcanic explosions larger than imaginable in modern times.”
He took a long pull off his pipe then opened his mouth and let the smoke billow out. “Some say Naiyenesgani opened his hand to allow enormous flows of lava to roll across the earth, shooting ash blasting into the stratosphere. They say he opened his other hand and burning avalanches of scorching pumice sliced down the hills, pulling landslides and making the ground quake in fear and awe.”
Nickolai wasn’t impressed with stories without fact. He opened his mouth to ask the man to get to the point.
The man smiled at him and offered the pipe.
“Um, no thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“Neither do I.” The man took another puff then blew the smoke right into Landry’s face.
She coughed and clutched her slinged arm closer to her chest.
“Hey—”
“I know you do not believe in the creation story. It does not change the way the mountains came to be. Once they were formed, Naiyenesgani moved away, to which the Thunder God, Thunderbird, took over. He watched over the tribes of the Apache. Because of him, the Bedonkohe and Chihenne tribes remained.”
“And this Thunder God, Thunderbird, will show Tarak where the Shis-Inday are after he prays for a specific number of hours?” Landry sounded as skeptical as Nickolai felt.
“I do not know what any of the gods will do. I do know that if the Bedonkohe shaman has foretold Tarak the protector joining the Shis-Inday, then it will come to pass.”
Interesting.
The man struggled to stand. Smoke circled around his head. He spoke to them both but stared straight at Landry. “But use great caution … the Thunder God will welcome no white person in his land, and you are not the only ones looking for what the Shis-Inday protect.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Landry smiled at Nickolai from across their lunch table. Fast food, but edible. There was just something about eating out of cardboard boxes and packets of salt and ketchup … always took Landry back to her happy youth, when her daddy would sneak her out to McDonald’s without her mom knowing. Her mother had always been a proponent of eating clean and healthy, despite Dad’s best attempts to sway her.
“What are you smiling about?” Nickolai wadded his paper napkin into a ball. “You looked so peaceful and happy.”
Heat burned her cheeks. “Just remembering my dad taking me to grab a burger and fries when I was younger. He had to sneak me out because my mom was a food nazi.”
Nickolai laughed softly. “Your mom never knew?”
“Oh, she probably did. Dad probably even told her, but it was fun for me to think he was sneaking me out.”
“Your mom was a food nazi?”
Landry smiled. “In the worst way. She would even try to disguise vegetables to get me to eat them. For the record, cauliflower, no matter how it’s cooked, can never be mistaken for mashed potatoes.”
“Eww.”
“Right? And spaghetti squash did not taste right replacing pasta.”
“At least she tried, though.” But he laughed.
“Easy for you to say, you didn’t have to take a bite of something and then realize she’d done a bait and switch on you.” She shook her head, smiling as she recalled. “One time, she pureed broccoli and slipped it into guacamole.” She shuddered and stuck her tongue out. “That was the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted. I couldn’t go to a Tex-Mex restaurant for months after that.”
He chuckled.
“Yeah, laugh it up. You weren’t the one scarred by her antics. I now have a love-hate relationship with food, and it’s all her fault. I don’t trust new places to eat.”
“It’s good you have those memories of them.”
She sobered. “Yeah. I’d eat all the crazy stuff she concocted if I could just have her back for a day or two.” Tears burned her eyes. “Dad, too.” She stared out the window of the fast-food joint. She would. Not. Cry. Here.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He was so sincere. So caring.
Landry blinked away the tears. “You didn’t. I just really miss them sometimes.”
“I know.”
She took a drink of her iced tea. “You said you lost your parents unexpectedly, right?”
He nodded. “A couple of years ago. House fire.”
A grip tightened around her heart. Her hand reached across the table and squeezed his. “I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t imagine losing both her mom and dad at the same time. That had to be horrible.
“It was one of the worst times of my life.”
“I can’t even imagine.” She squeezed his hand even tighter. Lord, please comfort him. He’d been shot, lost his job, started a new one from the ground up, and then lost his parents. And then she remembered something he’d said. “You mentioned a sister. Do you have any other siblings? I’d always wished I had a brother or sister to share the joys and the pain with.”
He let out a slow breath. She realized she was still holding his hand. Landry slowly withdrew her hand and took a sip of her sweet tea.
“No. It’s just me and Lisbeth.”
“That’s a pretty name. Are you two close?”
“She’s quite a bit younger than me.”
Landry raised her eyebrows in question.
“She’s about seventeen years younger.”
“Wow.” Landry covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
He laughed. “No, it’s okay. It was quite the jolt to my parents, too. I think Mom believed she was going through the change, but no, she was having Lisbeth.”
Landry grinned. “Bet that was quite the surprise.”
“Oh, it was. I’d just gotten my new truck, so I would drive Mom everywhere. I thought I was big stuff when I got to drive her to her doctor’s appointment. But she knew it would be a while, so she gave me a list of errands to run.” He shook his head and grinned. “When I got back to pick her up, she was waiting outside, looking stunned. She just got into the car and didn’t say a word.”
“She was probably in shock.”
He nodded. “Of course, but my teenage self didn’t know that. All I knew is Mom had been to the doctor and now she was quiet and looking white. I thought she had cancer and was dying.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” What else would a teenager immediately think?
“She didn’t say a word, the whole drive home. I was petrified. Terrified. Even as a smart-mouthed teen, I couldn’t think of anything to say.”
Landry couldn’t even imagine.
“As I turned onto our street, I told myself that I’d just ask. Nothing could be worse than what I imagined, so I figured I’d just ask her what was wrong with her.” Nickolai looked a little off into the air, lost in the memory. “So I pulled into the driveway and put the car in PARK. I turned and looked at her and just blurted out—‘Mom, are you dying?’”
He shook his head, smiling. “That seemed to snap her out of it. She looked me square in the face and told me—‘No, son, I’m not dying. I am, however, pregnant.’ ” He gave a little chuckle. “And do you know how I responded to finding out my mother didn’t have cancer, wasn’t dying from some horrible disease, and was only pregnant with my little sister?”
Landry smiled, shaking her head.
“I said—‘At your age?’ ” He laughed. “I was mortified that my mom was pregnant. I knew what that meant. What she and Dad had been doing. Of course, I thought I’d just die.”
“I bet. Teenage boys are only thinking about one thing, and to have it visible that your mom is still doing that …” Landry couldn’t help laughing.
“Sorry, I can only imagine your embarrassment.”
“It was horrible. Especially after she started showing. Man, my friends gave me nine million types of grief.”
“But then you got your little sister.”
Nickolai sobered. “I did. She was this cute little thing with big ole eyes. And when she wrapped her hand around my one finger …” He shook his head. “She had me wrapped from that moment on.”
A boulder-sized lump caught in the back of Landry’s throat. She’d always wanted a big brother, and the way Nickolai talked about his little sister made her heart skip a beat. Any man who would talk about his baby sister as an infant was a special guy in Landry’s opinion.
“I bet she was devastated when your parents passed.” The girl had to be no more than fifteen or sixteen. Losing both parents at such a vulnerable age, that had to be extremely hard. “At least she had you.”
How was he supposed to respond to that?
Nickolai’s memories swirled around him, running out of chronological order and blending together. The fast-food restaurant’s background clatter fell away, as did the conversations in the booths around them. He could only remember Mom and Dad and Lisbeth. The night it happened came into clear focus, as if he were reliving those moments….
Nickolai and Chris, at the gym.
Brring!
Chris grabs his cell. “Graze.”
Nickolai slips on his shoes. His shoulder aches a little, the constant reminder that he’ll never again be the man he used to be.
“Nickolai.” Chris’s voice is as fierce as his face. “That was dispatch. Fire and EMT have been dispatched to your parents’ address following a neighbor’s 911 call.”
Nickolai’s throat tightens as he feels the blood leave his face. Every muscle in his body tenses.
“Come on.” Chris yanks him to his feet and pushes him to the parking lot. He collapses into the front seat of Chris’s cruiser. Chris speeds down the road, sirens blasting and lights flashing. Nickolai’s gut traps his heart as they careen into his parents’ subdivision.
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