Fatal Divide (14 page)

It had been a mistake to talk to them together, and she resented being in the middle. She had knowledge she should be giving both the sheriff’s department and her dad, but was unable to do so because of her boyfriend.

At last, she ended her story, deciding not to say anything about the woman in the fourth house. She stopped talking and concentrated on eating. The chili was delicious. She didn’t know which of her men to credit for it. Frankly, neither seemed like a good candidate.

Her dad was the first to recover his speech. The questions were exactly what Alex would have expected.

“Why Wanda? What does the sheriff know that the rest of us don’t? Or is this just one of his cockamamie schemes to discredit her? They don’t get along, you know,” he said, addressing the last statement to Dylan. Maybe he thought that Dylan wasn’t aware of the political currents in town, since he only recently returned. If so, he’d forgotten that Dylan was the instigator of the last run-in between Wanda and Thurston.

No one at the table would have put it past Thurston to make all this up. But two of them knew he hadn’t. There was probably a misunderstanding, but Alex knew that Wanda was skating on thin legal ice. And she knew that Dylan was even more aware of it than she was. She still wasn’t sure that he and Wanda had told her everything.

Without answering any of her dad’s questions, Alex got up from the table. “Dad, Dylan and I need to talk. Privately. We’re going for a drive.” She sent Dylan a significant look and turned to go, expecting Dylan to follow, leaving her father with his mouth open and a stunned expression. She could only hope that she’d be able to undo the damage she’d just done to their relationship, sooner rather than later.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Dylan followed Alex automatically, and with more than a little apprehension. She caught him unprepared when she dismissed her dad’s questions and announced that they needed to talk. Granted, she hadn’t said anything about the fact that Wanda had taken them into her confidence, or about Wanda’s search for Jimmy. That was the good news.

The bad news was, if her expression were any clue, she was about to bite his head off for dessert. His chili wasn’t sitting well in the silence that prevailed, as she walked to his pickup and stood at the passenger side expectantly. Dylan pressed the remote to unlock the doors and opened the door for her, helping her up over the running board, as usual. He thought as fast as he could, as he walked around the back and silently took his place in the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

“Just drive around. We can’t afford for anyone to overhear.” Her voice was like ice. Dylan shuddered. He was in big trouble, and he didn’t know why. But at least he was about to find out. He waited for Alex to tell him.

“You’re wondering why I’m pissed off.”

Yes, he was. That she could read his mind scared him. He nodded.

“I’m pissed off because I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. What I know about this and can’t print, or even tell anyone, compromises my integrity, Dylan. Don’t look so surprised. I have integrity.”

“Not saying you don’t, baby. Just surprised you used the word. I get it. You’d like to give Thurston what you know about Wanda and Jimmy.”

“No, you don’t get it. I don’t want to give that jackass anything, but I should. Legally, I should. I should also tell my dad, and let him decide what to print. But I won’t, because I’ve been friends with Wanda all my life, and I love you, and it could put you both in more danger. Shit, Dylan, what am I supposed to do?”

Instead of answering, Dylan pulled over. They were on the road that skirted the high school on the east side. Nothing but the old tailings pond was on the other side of the road. It was as private a spot as anywhere in Dodge. Sparing little thought for the wisdom of locating a school so close to what had to be hazardous waste, Dylan pulled Alex into the curve of his arm.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t handle any of this right. You shouldn’t be in the middle of it. I hate that you are. Everything will turn out all right, I promise.”

“How can you promise that, Dylan? Have you been to Wanda’s house? I’m pretty sure she isn’t there, or I’d have heard about it on the scanner. She’s somewhere on the rez looking for Jimmy. She should have been home by now. She wouldn’t keep looking after dark, would she?”

Dylan hesitated. She was right. Something had happened to Wanda. He gave Alex a squeeze.

“Let’s go over there and see if Hector can shed any light on this. You’re right. Wanda would have come home, unless something happened.” He started the pickup and pulled away from the curb.

Dylan was more worried than his tone suggested. He drove to Wanda’s as fast as he could without attracting attention. It was plain to see that no one was home. In a town that rolled up its sidewalks not much later than sunset, except for the two bars and the Elks club, finding someone not at home was puzzling, unless they frequented the sparse nightlife.

Knowing Wanda was missing, it was especially puzzling to find Hector gone too. They expected to find him pacing the floor and watching for any sign of Wanda. To make matters more worrisome, Alex noticed that the front door wasn’t quite closed.

By unspoken consent, they got out of the pickup and cautiously approached the front door. Dylan knocked, standing to one side of the door and unconsciously holding his arm across Alex, behind him. There was no discernible light coming from the inside of the house, and no answer to their knock. With a gentle push, Dylan opened the door further. It swung in with no resistance.

“Stay here,” he whispered, and slowly entered the house, looking from right to left before switching on a lamp. He started to call to Alex to come inside, when he realized she was right behind him. With no time to waste in scolding her for not following his directions, he quickly cleared each room, noting the mess. This didn’t look like Wanda’s neat home. Dylan found the search warrant on the dining room table and read through it.

“Fugitives, weapons, papers, and electronic devices... This was pretty broad. How did they get this?” he asked, not expecting an answer. What had Thurston known, or told the judge that he knew, that would have convinced a neutral judge to issue a warrant with no more limitations than this?

Alex whispered to him urgently. “We shouldn’t be here. What if someone sees the lights?” Dylan interpreted that to mean, what if a sheriff’s deputy sees the lights. She was right. If the law thought Wanda had returned home, they might find themselves at the wrong end of a loaded sidearm before they could explain themselves.

Dylan put his hand on her arm and pushed her gently toward the front door as he turned out lights. He didn’t bother worrying about fingerprints. Those could be explained by their visit two nights ago. As quickly as he could, he pulled the door shut behind him, noting that it didn’t latch. Thurston had probably broken it when he entered with the search warrant.

Dylan joined her in the pickup. “Now what?” she asked.

As he put the truck in gear and backed out of the driveway, Dylan asked if she’d left anything out of her story about following Thurston through the reservation. He had a hunch at dinner that she was holding something back; something she wanted to tell him when she told her dad they needed to talk.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Dad.” She revealed the conversation she had with the woman in the fourth house she visited on the reservation.

Dylan agreed that the impression of Jimmy as a Robin Hood figure didn’t match with the one Wanda had given them. Who was right? The only way to get the answer was to find either Jimmy or Wanda. Dylan didn’t know whether to wish they’d find both of them together. Would she be safe with Jimmy? Alex had one more thing to tell him.

“The woman told me to talk to an Anna Redhawk. She said something about Jimmy helping with Sophia’s baby, and that Sophia was Anna’s granddaughter. I didn’t know what to make of that, but by the time I got back to the main road, it was too late to make Sells and get to the tribal government offices before they closed.”

“What does the government have to do with it?” he asked.

“Didn’t I tell you? Anna is the vice chairwoman.”

Dylan fell silent, trying to put it together. Tomorrow was Saturday, his half-day at work. The government offices would be closed. Or would they? He’d only had dealings with the adoption committee, but did the whole tribe operate on white man’s schedule? He considered calling in for a personal day.

“Dylan, I’m going back tomorrow. I need to get to the bottom of this story before Wednesday. Before Tuesday, in fact. Maybe someone in town can direct me to Anna Redhawk’s home.”

That settled it. If Alex was going to poke around in a potential bear trap, he was going with her to protect her. He drove her home and made arrangements to pick her up at seven the next morning, at first light.

TWENTY-NINE

10:30 p.m.

Alex understood why Dylan wanted to accompany her. He had never been less than macho, even if he wasn’t a jerk about it. He wanted to protect her, and as both a law officer and a member of the tribe, albeit an unrecognized one, he thought he had a better grasp on the situation than she did.

However, he had proved, by his questions to her, that he still didn’t get her core issue. Without some long talks about it, he never would. It prompted her to reconsider their relationship in the light of cultural differences.

Dylan had overcome a lot. He’d figured out how to get an education that gave him a career path, had escaped his mother’s alcoholism and their tiny town that had no prospects for him, only to be dragged back by his mother’s illness. But he didn’t have the ties to family, going back three generations, like she did. He didn’t know his father and was ashamed of his mother. He didn’t know his grandparents, or what their lives were like. She did.

She’d been raised to value the truth and the people’s right to know it, above almost everything else. That the right to know stopped at the threshold of private family matters, was a matter of getting along in a small town. The Dodge Desert Times didn’t print hurtful gossip, or speculative stories that had no foundation. Her dad was an honorable man and an honest newspaperman.

Until now, she never thought about herself in those terms, but her precarious position in this case made her take stock. She didn’t like the conclusions she drew about whether she was being unbiased. She couldn’t help resenting Dylan for bringing her into it, even though she had insisted.

Her feelings for Dylan and Wanda aside, she owed it to her dad, and to the people of Dodge, to report this story, if only she could sort out who were the good guys and who were the bad ones. Right now it was anything but clear.

Her dad was waiting for her when she came into the house after kissing Dylan goodnight in the pickup. He seemed hesitant to question her, but anxious about something.

“Hi, Dad. No date with Jen tonight?”

“Jen and I are just friends,” he said, with some asperity. She’d heard it before.

“For now. Dad, I know you’re curious about what’s going on. I wish I could tell you. I
will
tell you, as soon as I can get some clarity. But for now, can you trust me to do the best I can?” It was lame... she couldn’t even tell him what she needed his trust about. But he nodded.

“Yes, Baby Girl, I trust you.” She walked into his waiting arms for a daddy hug, which had become fewer as she grew up. She didn’t think he’d hugged her since that awful day when it came down to her life against the intruder’s. She should initiate a change. You’re never too old for daddy hugs, but someday they wouldn’t be available, or as readily available. It would be good to store some up against a future shortage.

“Daddy, I won’t be able to do the refills tomorrow. I’ve got some more things to run down for Wanda’s story. Can you handle it?” Normally, her Saturday work duties included refilling all the newspaper kiosks and stacks around town.

“Yes, kiddo, I can do that. Tell me you’re going to be safe.”

“Dylan’s going with me. I’ll be as safe as I can be,” she answered. That would have to do. No one could promise a random accident wouldn’t take them out. Or a random criminal act when you didn’t even know you were a target. She had good reason to know that. “I’m tired, Dad. I’m going to bed.”

Paul took an involuntary glance at the mantel clock. Not quite ten. He turned back to her in surprise, but she was ready for him. “It’s been a long day.”

“Sure, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

THIRTY

In his concern over Alex’s whereabouts, and then the visit to Wanda’s house, Dylan had forgotten all about having asked Ange to set up a meeting with Bill tonight. He didn’t pay attention to the strange vehicle in guest parking either, since it was always full of various cars. So he was startled when Ange snatched the door open just as he reached for the doorknob. What the hell?

It didn’t take long for him to remember, as she hissed at him in tones that excluded both her boyfriend and his mother. “Where the hell have you been? Bill has been waiting for over an hour.”