Hearts of the Missing
Page 29
Franco slid down her body. He unsnapped the thumb break on his ankle holster, and the tiny sound rang loudly in her ears.
“How are you doing, Franco?” Meloni asked. He paced back and forth. “PJ told me about your little phobia. Cave crushing down on you? Or are you distracted by that head wound? So much blood. I thought you were dead. My mistake. But I’m sure it won’t be long before you go down and I come for you, too.”
Franco hissed as he straightened. The hard press of a revolver slid coldly along Nicky’s arm. Fingers thick, she fumbled for the gun. She would have dropped it if Franco hadn’t wrapped his hand around hers, closing her hand tightly around the grip.
He whispered into Nicky’s ear, “Can you shoot Meloni instead of the tanks?”
“I don’t think so. He’s moving all over the place. Franco, he’s the witch Juanita Benami told me about. He injected me with evil. He injected all of the missing with evil.” She stopped on a shiver. “I’m having a hard time staying conscious.”
“I’ve got you. I’ll hold you up, help you keep steady. But you have to aim.” He pulled in a shaky breath. “Nicky, an explosion could trap us. We could die.” His whole body shuddered behind her and he clutched her tighter.
“If we don’t stop him, he’ll continue killing. More people will go missing, their souls lost. It’s my job to protect these people.” Her free hand covered the hand he’d wrapped around her waist. She laced their fingers and squeezed. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Don’t be afraid. You aren’t alone.” She closed her eyes again on a wave of dizziness. “It’s getting bad, Franco. We have to do it. We have to,” she said through gritted teeth. Nicky clutched the gun, finger on the trigger. Her arm felt like it weighed a ton and the lights quivered and jumped.
Meloni’s shaved head shone at the end of the tunnel. “I’m actually feeling pretty good right now. Sergeant Matthews? You should go down soon. And Agent Martinez, you shouldn’t be too much trouble after that. I have the Enemy’s Heart planned for you both. Like the Fire-Sky war chiefs and their deer. Like PJ did to David Saunders. I’ll have time. You think Savannah and Ryan Bernal can save you? Even if they make it out of the caves, it’s a long way down the mountain.”
It took every ounce of strength for Nicky to lift her arm. Franco’s chin pressed against the side of her head, his hand around her wrist, his arm a brace to secure her aim. She sighted the gun on the stack of canisters, breathed out slowly.
Steady …
Meloni continued to talk, drawing out the seconds until they were incapacitated and he could get to them. “Actually, I’ll probably be able to catch Savannah again, and use her—”
But his time was up.
“Now,” Nicky said and squeezed the trigger.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The report of the shot was nothing compared to the noise of the explosion that followed.
Orange-red clouds the color of hellfire expanded and pushed air down the tunnel, hitting Nicky and Franco with a force of wind and noise that knocked them backward. She landed with a hard thud, Franco beside her. Nicky’s absolute panic and will to live had her up on her feet in an instant, yanking at Franco and running.
But the heat and sound followed them, throwing balls of streaming, bouncing light past them as tiny superheated shrapnel blew down the tunnel. Pieces landed and sizzled on their clothes and exposed skin. She brushed them off with quick, frenetic movements as they stumbled and ran.
Her heart rate spiked and a slug of adrenaline mixed nastily with the ketamine that still pulsed through her. Nicky tugged and pulled at Franco and ran so fast she floated over the ground, anchored only by his large body. Lights streaked past her and she followed them, tempted to spread her arms and fly. To let go and flip in the air, free.
“Faster, Nicky! The cave—” Franco’s voice choked. A rumble like the loudest thunder shuddered over the rocks and through her bones. “Left! Keep left! Look for the glow-sticks. Get us out!”
The lights zinged around her, off the walls, ceiling, and floor, bright, long tails that bent and arched and faded slowly. They bounced and hopped and she was suddenly running with bouncing, hopping rabbits that glowed green and white in front of and beside her.
Nicky grinned. They would know how to get out. “Don’t worry. We’ll follow the rabbits. They know the way,” she said merrily as she ran and floated and dived through the wet, hot, dusty wind.
As they pounded up the tunnel, a tiny spot of light winked ahead of her, and the rabbits began to morph from animals into shimmering, running men and women.
Someone brushed her side and she turned to see Sandra Deering grin at her and speed past. Vernon Cheromiah’s glowing face caught her eye before he hooked his arm through Franco’s and helped them fly along. And Maryellen K’aishuni smiled sweetly as she ran in silence toward the mouth of the cave, her hand in Vernon’s, pulling them forward. More faces, faces of the missing and lost, ran by, speeding out of the mountain as it rumbled and cracked behind them.
She and Franco burst from the cave and heaved in gasps of cool air, tripping on rocks and grass and shrubs. Nicky let Franco go and sailed forward, running and flying—
Only to jerk to a stop and stare around the meadow at the sentinels within the trees. Misty, glowing people—Fire-Sky Indians in traditional clothing—at least a dozen white shadows in a semicircle before her. Dawn was breaking, and the grays of the night transformed into the washed-out pastels of morning, then matured into dazzling colors as the brightness expanded with the rising of the sun.
Nicky stared at the People—no, their spirits—who beamed and nodded, until her dazzled gaze rested on an ancient figure in the center of their line, long gray hair flowing behind her in the breeze. The wrinkled skin of her face creased even tighter as she met Nicky’s astonished eyes and smiled her thanks.
And the sun broke over the jagged rocks of Scalding Peak, dissipating the mists, the People. And Wind Mother vanished in a swirl of gray and gold.
Nicky dropped to her knees, openmouthed and blinking, before she fell forward and fainted spread-eagled across the moist soft grass.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Savannah skirted the rocks and ruts on the side of the road and smiled at Nicky in greeting. She picked up the Spirit’s Heart pendant from Nicky’s neck, its coral glowing blood-red in the afternoon sun.
“Hey! The empty slot’s been filled.” She touched the bright sky-blue turquoise as she spoke.
“Ryan did that for me. He chose turquoise because it represents Sandra’s clan. Hummingbird.”
Savannah made a noncommittal sound as she laid the pendant on Nicky’s class A’s. She leaned back against the Fire-Sky Police unit behind them.
“Have you two talked since…”
“Since PJ and the kidnapping and you, Franco, and Ryan rescued me? No,” answered Savannah.
“It’s been three weeks,” Nicky commented.
A group of Fire-Sky and state police, FER, and Conservation officers milled about and talked in the dirt and grass in front of the house. Ryan wasn’t there. He was already at the cemetery with Howard Kie. The rehab program Howard had entered for his alcohol problem had given him a two-day pass because he was doing so well. They would grave-guard the first twenty-four hours.
Savannah shrugged. “Ryan’s different now. Detached. Like he doesn’t—”
“Doesn’t love you anymore? He’ll always love you, Savannah. It’s just…” Maybe he’s finally realized he’s chasing something he’ll never catch. Nicky didn’t say it out loud.
“Yeah. Anyway, look at you with your hat and white gloves and all! You look badass.” She tugged playfully at the brim of Nicky’s peaked hat. “Even your hair is up.” Her smile was back, but it had a poignant quality.
“It’s only right, you know?”
Black sedans and Fire-Sky police and Conservation trucks were parked in a long line down the road. The black limousine behind her truck had been rented by the tribe for the family. Juanita Benami
had asked Nicky to lead the procession to the cemetery.
“Dax Stone is here, dressed to the nines. He’s in the same car as the chief and governor. He’s watching your every move.”
Nicky craned her neck to look. Dax smiled and talked to the chief and Captain Richards, devastatingly handsome in his dress uniform. As if feeling her eyes on him, he turned to stare. Captain followed his gaze and frowned before he looked away.
“They rescinded my suspension,” Nicky said.
“Damn straight. I can’t believe Franco and Laughton did that to you, especially with twenty-twenty hindsight.” Savannah grinned. “You’re kind of a big deal. A hero.” She gave Nicky a quick hug. “Speaking of Special Agent Adonis Laughton, where is he?”
“Franco said he flew to D.C., trying to drum up support for another undercover operation against the black-market transplant ring. They didn’t get Mariano Salas.”
“I heard. Do you know what happened to his daughter?”
Savannah’s voice was tentative. It must be hard to ask after the health of someone who had played such a prominent—if unknowing—role in her selection as victim of Meloni’s organ-harvesting scheme.
Nicky shook her head.
“So will Laughton be back?” Savannah’s voice was a bit too casual.
“Maybe. There are still a few loose threads to tie up. They haven’t interviewed Julie Knuteson yet. I was pretty sure PJ and Meloni killed her. They got rid of everyone else associated with this case. I’m glad she was safe and sound at her sister’s the whole time. And the FBI still have to get into the cave and see if they can find Meloni or any of his victims. I just don’t see how.”
The explosion had collapsed part of the large back cavern, opening up a hole that dropped seventy-five feet into a huge reservoir of water. One of the lakes Fire-Sky tradition said existed within Scalding Peak.
“Peter Santibanez is here, too, near the end of the procession, with some of the other war chiefs,” Nicky said. “His wife didn’t come.” Neither had the K’aishunis. They’d held a private ceremony for Maryellen and went back to Nebraska. “The FBI said Santibanez is a cooperating witness. They won’t file charges.”
“Did you hear the tribal council is going to review his DNA database? They voted for money to hire an expert to study it. See if it can be used to help with membership.”
“I can’t believe it.” Nicky shook her head.
Savannah tugged at her skirt, her gaze drifting to Scalding Peak. “It’s weird how Meloni kept all those internal organs in his lab. But I’m glad, especially since one of them turned out to be Sandra’s heart.”
“Franco said they were trophies of his kills. Even though most of the organs he harvested were used for transplants, Meloni always kept something from his victims. The DNA testing the FBI did went a long way to give closure to the families, even if no bodies are ever found. Plus, Meloni said he was using them for experiments with his organ perfusate. He told us that when we were in the caves with him, monologuing while he waited for me and Franco—” Nicky stopped on a breath.
“Yeah. But you outsmarted him.”
And had been in the hospital for two days. Franco was in even longer. He had a concussion from the rock-pounding, and whatever PJ had splashed on his face—some kind of caustic chemical—had done a number on his skin. Miraculously, the blue contact lenses he wore as part of his undercover persona had protected his sight.
She’d known something was off the first time she saw him.
Shifting, Nicky stared at the front door of the house. What was taking so long?
Savannah nudged her arm. “So Franco decided to stay on, keep his Conservation job?”
Nicky couldn’t stop the slow smile that crept across her lips. “Yeah.”
“When are you two going to dinner?”
“Next week. My house. Maybe.” It was a start. There were still a lot of trust issues she had to deal with.
Savannah gasped. “But you never have anyone over to your house!”
“I said maybe,” Nicky reiterated, but Savannah ignored her.
“I’ve never been over to your house. You like him better than you like me.” Savannah humphed and crossed her arms, her lips quivering as she suppressed her grin.
Finally, the front door opened.
Nicky called, “Attention!”
The officers and agents in the yard quickly fell into two stiff columns that lined the walkway from the house. Squire Concho eased out of the door, eyes wide as he stared at the formal escort. Cyrus Aguilar followed and the two walked solemnly toward the latched front gate.
Nicky swung it open to allow them to pass through.
A few seconds later, Franco stepped out, gently guiding Juanita Benami. In her hands, she cradled a turquoise inlaid box.
Sandra’s heart was inside, to be laid to rest beside her at the ceremony this afternoon. Nicky swallowed the thickness gathering in her throat.
Juanita hobbled toward her, Franco next to her, tall and handsome. The brim of his fawn-colored Stetson shadowed eyes and skin still sensitive to sunlight. As the two of them moved through the gate, his eyes, a warm, deep brown, smiled at Nicky.
The men in the yard assembled into a line behind Franco and Juanita and marched past Nicky to their vehicles. When the last one was through, Nicky swung the gate back into place and latched it securely.
She climbed into her unit and took one last look at the metal gateway in her rearview as she drove away. It was the one that wouldn’t stay closed when Sandra Deering was lost. But, today, her Spirit’s Heart would be returned to her. She and all the others weren’t lost anymore.
They could finally come home.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Anne Hillerman, the Western Writers of America, and St. Martin’s Press/Minotaur for the wonderful Tony Hillerman Prize they sponsor each year. I’d also like to thank LERA and my critique group members, BP, EK, and LR. I learned so much from you. I’m still learning.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CAROL POTENZA is an Assistant Professor of Chemistry and Biochemistry at New Mexico State University. She and her husband, Leos, live in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Hearts of the Missing, her debut novel, is the winner of the 2017 Tony Hillerman Prize. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
/>
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
HEARTS OF THE MISSING. Copyright © 2018 by Carol Potenza. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover photographs: landscape © Dmitry Pichugin / Shutterstock.com; burst © Jemastock/Shutterstock.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Potenza, Carol, author.
Title: Hearts of the missing / Carol Potenza.
Description: First edition. | New York : Minotaur Books, 2018.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018027002 | ISBN 9781250178282 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250178299 (ebook)
Subjects: | GSAFD: Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3616.O8435 H43 2018 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018027002
eISBN 9781250178299
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