Hearts of the Missing

by Carol Potenza

  The room was dark except for the porch light shining in behind them and the kitchen light coming through the archway. They quickly surveyed and determined no one hid behind furniture or curtains, when the back door slammed open and Laughton shouted, “FBI!” Within seconds, he yelled, “Kitchen, den, clear. Back door lock broken.”

  She and Franco headed down the hall to the bedrooms and Nicky sealed herself against finding Savannah bleeding, broken—or dead. The rooms were empty, but that was almost as wrenching.

  She hurried back to the kitchen in time to see Ryan pick up Savannah’s glasses from the floor and place them gently on the kitchen counter.

  “They took her.” He choked and stared at Nicky. “Why?”

  “Because of her DNA. Her blood quantum,” she replied through stiff lips. The completed puzzle of evidence she’d been working on since Sandra Deering’s death fell into place. “They can’t have been gone long. We can catch them—”

  Ryan pulled his knife and darted through the back door. The three of them jumped after him. Nicky yanked out her flashlight and spotlighted Ryan as he dove into a large chamisa. High-pitched shrieks and a frantic spate of Keres filled the night. Ryan dragged Howard Kie from of the bush and threw him to the sand.

  “Dza! Dza! Chishe diya! Apache dog!” Howard screamed.

  Ryan plucked Howard to his feet and pushed him hard toward the house. He fell to his hands and knees and Ryan stalked up to him, planted his foot in the middle of his behind, and shoved.

  Howard landed flat on his stomach, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose. He scrambled to his feet and whipped out a butter knife. “You almost killed me, Chishe diya!”

  Arm raised, he ran at Ryan, who simply grabbed his wrist and twisted. With a squeak, Howard dropped his knife. Ryan thrust him away again.

  “I still may kill you, dyeetya.”

  Howard faced Nicky, a scowl on his face. “You saw what the Chishe diya did. Arrest him.”

  Nicky grabbed Howard’s arm and frog-marched him into Savannah’s kitchen.

  “Sit.” She tossed him into a chair. “Howard, did you see who took Savannah?” The men gathered around and Howard shrank back.

  “You will protect me from”—his head jerked up at the three men—“them,” he whispered, blinking up at her.

  Nicky nodded.

  “I saw. I been following PJ. He was mean to me in school. Like that guy.” He frowned and notched his chin at Ryan. “PJ Santibanez, he was up at the cave during the Enemy’s Heart Ceremony, but he is no war chief. He was banished from the rez, like that guy.” Again, at Ryan. “PJ slipped away when those guys came.” He jerked his head at Franco and Laughton. “I followed him ever since. He was dating Sandra, too.”

  Nicky almost groaned as Howard relayed his information. If only she’d questioned him more closely. If only she’d known what to ask.

  “I got my cousin’s mini-bike, but I left it in the desert. PJ and some bald guy took Savannah. They had two big Baasu’um’e with them. They kicked in the back door and took her. I hid. I knew you would come,” he said to Nicky. “You are her friend. Savannah was nice to me in school.” He sneered at Ryan. “That Chishe wasn’t nice to me.”

  “Baasu’um’e. Mexicans,” Nicky interpreted, pulse racing. “They must be going to Juárez. You need to alert Border Patrol and put out a BOLO—”

  “No.” Both Howard and Ryan said at the same time.

  “There are tire marks out back heading north,” Ryan said. “That black truck in the desert, the one we thought was FBI and watched the house? It wasn’t.” He scowled at Laughton.

  “Not Mexico.” Howard shook his head. “The bald guy said they are going to the mountain. To the caves.”

  Franco’s face was white and grim. “Like in the Chiricahua,” he murmured.

  “The Sacred Caves. Meloni said something about how he would rather have a lair than a lab,” Nicky said. “He must have some place set up in the caves on Scalding Peak. That’s where he takes his victims for organ harvest. Right under our nose. Taunting us.”

  She rushed to the door and looked up at the cloud-shrouded mountain. The lights—the souls of the victims—that streamed from Wind Mother’s skull had flown up the side of Scalding Peak. To the Second Sacred Caves.

  Nicky closed her eyes on a quick prayer, then turned to the men.

  “Laughton, send the BOLO and call for Fire-Sky police to secure this scene. We have to go now.” She gave Ryan and Franco a searing look. “I’m pretty sure I know where they took her. I hope to God I’m right.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  They ran to Nicky’s truck.

  Howard called, “Shotgun,” and slapped at Ryan when he opened the passenger door to yank him out.

  “No. Leave him,” Nicky said and handed Howard her flashlight as he gave Ryan a smirk. Howard knew the drill. Hopefully, he wouldn’t drop the light as they got closer to their destination.

  With three very large men crowded in the backseat of her unit, she drove toward Scalding Peak. Laughton and Franco were on their phones, talking rapidly before they lost signal. One called a prosecutor for the search and arrest warrants, the other directed the FBI and police to secure Savannah’s house and to pick up Peter Santibanez and Dinah K’aishuni as persons of interest. They sent teams to OMI and Meloni’s lab and apartment. And to find Julie Knuteson. They needed to make sure she was okay.

  There was a brief lull, Franco and Laughton speaking quietly to each other, when Ryan’s phone rang.

  He hissed, “It’s Savannah’s number.” He pressed the icon to put it on speaker. “Savannah. Baby? Where are you?”

  “Ryan?” Her voice shook piteously. “They told me I could make one phone call, to say goodbye—” She choked. “I couldn’t call Mom and Dad. I knew I could trust you to … to … tell them—” Savannah was sobbing into the phone now.

  “Savannah—”

  Nicky glanced into the rearview. Franco had shoved his phone under Ryan’s nose and his eyes scanned the screen.

  “I’m still at the police station,” he said. “Where are you? I’ll come get you—”

  Another voice came on speaker. “Goddammit, PJ! This isn’t a game. Turn the phone off.” Meloni.

  The phone call ended abruptly and a chime sounded within seconds.

  “It’s a picture of Savannah in the backseat of a truck,” Ryan said flatly.

  “That means they have signal. They’re still on the mountain, not at the caves. We can’t be that far behind,” Nicky declared.

  She wanted to go faster, but the road was slick with rain and beginning its wind up the mountain.

  “If they believe Ryan is still at the station and that we don’t know where they’re headed, they might not be as prepared for us. Counting the Mexicans, there are at least four of them. They won’t hesitate to kill. We need to devise a plan,” Nicky said as she passed the Kuwami K’uuti lookout and headed to the second spur of the old gravel logging road. She nodded to Howard as she turned off her headlights and dimmed the interior.

  Nicky described the area around the Second Sacred Caves, Ryan—and Howard—giving details, even as Howard hung out of the truck window, flashlight beam steady on the road. Fresh tire marks in the mud ahead made Nicky’s limbs weak with relief. They were on the right track. A sense of calm settled over her.

  They’d all slipped into a purposeful demeanor, resolution unwavering, fear and panic gone. Warrior mode, cop mode, whatever it was called, Nicky could feel it. There was a basic understanding of the dangers, and an acceptance. They had a job to do and God forbid anyone get in their way.

  “How do you know so much about the caves, Nicky?” Franco asked. “I thought they were off-limits to anyone but Fire-Sky war chiefs.” His voice was steady, unruffled, with a hint of a smile in it.

  “This is my beat, Agent Martinez. My territory. I make it my business to know every inch.” Nicky curved her lips up. “At least on the outside. I’ve never actually been in the caves.”
She dropped her smile. “Are you gonna be all right?”

  He met her gaze in the mirror and answered simply, “Yes. I have to be.”

  They crept along for what seemed like an eternity before Nicky told Howard to turn off the flashlight. They were close now, just a couple of switchbacks until the parking area. The half-moon in the sky seemed to weave in and out of the dissipating rain clouds, giving scant illumination, but it was enough to move forward.

  She maneuvered around a sharp corner. “Now.” The door behind her clicked open and Franco and Ryan bailed out. On foot, they could move much faster up the rugged slope than she could drive along the winding road. They’d get in position and wait for her. She and her unit would act as a target, a decoy, in case the Mexican cartel members guarded the outside of the caves.

  As she hit another switchback, Laughton slipped out of the truck and disappeared up the slope. He would come at any guards from above.

  “Time for you to get out, Howard. Once I top that rise, they can see the truck. It’s too dangerous for you,” she whispered.

  “You are brave and a girl. I am a man. If you stay, I’ll stay and keep you company.” He sniffed. “There are large rocks on either side of the road. We can duck behind those.”

  The truck crawled forward.

  “Okay, but you bail on my command. Ready?” she whispered.

  Chin high, lips and brow pooched in determination, Howard gave her the thumbs-up.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Nicky hit the sirens and her brights, stomped down on the gas. Tires spun in the mud and gravel flew before they caught and the truck shot over the hill, front grille high, and bounced down. Her headlights lit up a black four-wheel drive vehicle, two men, and flashes of powder as they fired. A bullet pinged against metal, then another and another. There was no pop of gunfire. The guards used suppressors.

  The windshield cracked into crazed patterns as the bullets hit. Nicky dipped her head down and zigzagged the truck on the road, swiping bushes, glancing off trees. The side-view mirror crunched against a branch with a discordant metallic scrape.

  Her unit approached the rocks Howard had indicated and she stomped the brake, yelling, “Get out! Now!” Nicky whipped open the door and flung her feet to the ground, ducking as she ran behind the open door. She let the truck roll forward, her guiding hand on the steering wheel for as long as possible. The passenger seat was empty, door half open. Howard was out.

  Shots barked and bullets still pinged, but not as thickly. She heard a scream of pain and smiled grimly. Her guys were there. She dove behind the rocks and scrambled to her feet, gun leveled at the scene. The unmanned vehicle sped up, its trajectory downhill. One man lunged out of the way as it slammed into the parked truck. The siren cut off. The guy rolled and came to his feet practically in the arms of Franco, who punched him in the temple, threw him to the ground, and straddled him from behind. The dark figure of a man stepped from behind a tree, gun pointed at Franco. Nicky squeezed the trigger and the Glock bucked in her hand. The figure jerked and spun into the darkness. Franco swiftly cuffed the guy on the ground and leaped down the slope after the second man.

  She raced toward the vehicles, scanning for movement under the swirl of red and blue lights from her unit. There was a blur of motion up the hill, and a tree exploded behind her. She turned to shoot, only to wrench her weapon down as a shadow enveloped the gunman. His head jerked back and a knife glinted silver in the moonlight. Ryan bent close and whispered something into the man’s ear before he dropped him. Another bad guy took off down the road. Laughton exploded out of the trees in pursuit.

  Franco grabbed Nicky’s arm when she would have followed. “No. Donny was black ops before med school and the FBI. He needs to catch and stop that guy before he can get to cell service and alert Salas. You’ll distract him.”

  “The guy down the hill.” She sucked in a breath. “The one I—”

  “The one who would have killed me,” Franco said. “He’ll live.” He drew her to the edge of the flat dirt lot. A low groan emanated from the undergrowth. “Trussed up good and tight, but he’s a big fellow—well, he’s got quite a gut—so I left him there. Didn’t want to strain my back.” He smiled at her before he turned his head. “That all, Ryan?”

  “Yep.” Ryan calmly wiped the blood from his knife onto his shirt, a gun stuck in his waistband. He leaned into Nicky’s unit and turned off the lights.

  “Him?” Nicky motioned to the guy Franco had taken down. He wasn’t moving.

  “He’ll have quite a headache when he wakes up,” Franco said matter-of-factly. “I count three here, plus the one Laughton went after. Everyone whole? That guy on the hill. The one who shot at Nicky. What’d you say to him?” Franco asked Ryan.

  “A prayer for the dead so his spirit won’t haunt me. Good practice opportunity. I wanted to make sure I remembered it when I use it for PJ.”

  Nicky stared, processing his words, then swallowed and dipped her head. Ryan smiled faintly and nodded back.

  Franco pressed his open hand on the hood of the black SUV. “Engine’s still warm. They haven’t been here for long.”

  “No Meloni or PJ,” Nicky said. She straightened her shoulders, refocused. “They must have taken Savannah to the cave. Unless there’s another place to park, my guess is that these guys are it, as far as guards.”

  “Two of them were behind Savannah’s house earlier today. She’s here.” Ryan’s voice was hard.

  “All right, then. We need to get her back.” Nicky reached inside her truck and pulled out a small flashlight. She handed it to Ryan. Franco had one under the barrel of his gun. She opened the glove compartment and grabbed two baggies full of plastic sticks, each about the size of a match. Slipping one out, she snapped it between her fingers and dropped it at her feet. It glowed with an eerie green luminescence.

  “Thought I’d never have a use for these,” Nicky said with a half smile. She scooped a handful before giving a bag to each man. “They’ll be our bread crumbs in the caves, so we can find our way out.” She looked back and forth at Franco and Ryan’s shadowed faces. “I wish I knew more about the layout. Ryan?”

  He shook his head.

  “I know. Something.” Howard’s voice piped up from a nearby thicket. He scuttled forward, brushed away leaves at Nicky’s feet, and picked up the tiny glow-stick. “Used to come up here as a kid and play war chief. Inside, keep to the right. Always. The floor slopes down for two hundred and four steps. I counted them. At the end of the tunnel, it forks into a series of six interconnected rooms, each ten to twelve steps wide and long. Good places for ambush,” he said and met their eyes. “They all connect to larger caverns. One of those is the sacred space. It has a bottomless pit. It is where our ancestors performed ceremonies.” He held the little stick to his face, his lips pulled down into a frown. “I cannot go. I am not properly dressed. If you give me a gun…” His voice was expectant.

  “No guns,” Nicky said and fervently hoped she and Franco had secured all the bad guys’ weapons. That’s all they needed: Howard with a weapon more lethal than a butter knife. “But you can wait for Agent Laughton. Tell him what you told us. Franco.” She pressed a hand to his arm. “You have cave experience. You’re up.”

  The three of them left Howard in the road and jogged to the edge of the clearing.

  “Okay. We go in ten seconds apart, me first, then Nicky. You last,” Franco said to Ryan. “Watch for traps and trip wires. In the cave, keep your light away from you, to the side. They’ll shoot at the light. Keep your voices low. Sound travels. The goal of this mission is to find and extract Savannah, nothing more. Understood?”

  Ryan grunted.

  “Ryan, go left around the meadow. Check the perimeter. We’ll head right and meet at the cave entrance,” Franco said.

  The storm had drifted south and the moon glowed. A cool, wet breeze soughed gently through the tall pines, scattering little pops of water on the pine-needle-covered ground. The dark side of the mo
untain rose jagged with shadows. Across the small meadow, the opening of the cave gaped blackly.

  Ryan crept soft-footed into the forest and disappeared.

  As Nicky and Franco traversed through the woods, he whispered, “You never confirmed, Matthews.” He slowed and she stepped in close behind him. “Save Savannah, then get out. Understood?”

  “Aye-aye, Captain,” Nicky replied in a low voice, searching the trees. And if she was able to stop the bad guys, too—

  She didn’t expect Franco to grab her. He pushed her up against a tree and kissed her. Hard.

  He eased away, his lips lingering, and said hoarsely, “That’s for saving my life back there.” He gave her a little shake and she gasped. He was so close, so warm. “Don’t do anything stupid in there. Please. I still owe you dinner.” Franco released her, let out a long breath, and pulled his gun. “Let’s do this.”

  Nicky nodded, speechless.

  They headed to the cave.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Nicky stared at the cave entrance, a smoothed archway wide enough for two people. Entering could be dangerous. If PJ or Meloni had heard the firefight, they could be waiting in ambush. Ryan played his light down the passage, but it curved to the right within about twenty yards.

  The dirt and sand around the opening was peppered with footprints—no one had made an effort to sweep. Maybe they were in too much of a hurry. She extended her hand. There was a strong wind, damp and warm, that blew straight out of the cave, its scent pungent enough to taste—herby, mildewy, dusty, but not unpleasant.

  “Ancient Fire-Sky stories tell of the k’uuti tsa’atsi—mountain’s breath—that originates from hidden lakes deep within,” Ryan whispered.

  Franco stood rigid next to her and she placed a hand on his back. “Hey. You all right?” He stared into the gloomy passageway, jaw set.

  Ryan edged forward, knife in one hand, flashlight in the other. “I’ll go first—”

  “No,” Franco said. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Go slow, stay low. Don’t ever look directly at any light. Keep your own light down and away from your eyes. Use it as a weapon to blind your opponents, to give yourself a few seconds.” He turned to Nicky. “Count to ten and follow. One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi…” His back disappeared in the darkness of the cave before he switched his light on. Nicky pressed a hand against the Spirit’s Heart pendant and counted. At five-Mississippi, Franco’s light winked out as he turned the corner. By eight-Mississippi, her stomach was knotted. At ten-Mississippi, she squeezed Ryan’s arm, took a deep breath, and stepped into the cave.