Fatal Intent (Desert Heat Book 3) (6 page)

NINE

Alex felt blindly for her phone the next morning, to hear Dylan’s voice when she found it. “Alex, they found her last night.”

His words broke through the fog of sleep and the calming prescription she’d used to settle herself down after he left. She felt guilty for keeping him from the search last night, knowing that every minute counted. Now her heart was in her mouth.

“And?” She didn’t want to know, but she did. It had been four days…

“She’s alive! Severely injured, and she may lose a leg, but they think she’ll make it.”

Alex’s elation that Dawn had been found alive turned to sorrow as she pictured the dynamic girl crippled by the loss of a leg. “Are they allowing visitors? Where are you?” She was beginning to feel more like herself. It was time to get the story, if Dawn was up to it.

“I’m on my way home. Stay put, Alex. I know you took a Valium, and you shouldn’t be driving. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Grateful for his understanding, Alex ended the call and went to take a shower. As the hot water began to wake her, Alex marshaled her questions in a logical order. Who, what, when, where and how—the classic five interview questions for a journalist. And the why, if Dawn knew. Alex had a strong hunch the why had to do with Dawn’s activism. She could only hope Dawn knew who.

Alex was just getting out of the shower when Dylan arrived. She quickly braided her wet hair and didn’t bother with makeup. Just minutes later, they joined a group of well-wishers in the hospital’s main waiting room. Dawn was in surgery, but Alex learned the facts from Jesse, who’d been among the searchers last night.

“Her car was half-hidden under an overpass,” he explained. “You couldn’t see it from the road, and if we hadn’t been searching, no one would have found her in time. There weren’t any roads going there, just a deep gully the road bridged.” He looked haunted, his eyes staring from a gray-hued face. “Why didn’t I raise the alarm earlier?”

“You didn’t know,” Alex soothed. She now had a glimpse of what Dylan had suffered, the second-guessing and the what-ifs that one agonized over when something like this happened. The normal everyday things that make up a life and suddenly take on a completely new meaning.

Taking time to rest, to go to work and not notifying the authorities sooner, all simple decisions until the unexpected happens. Even more difficult, the not knowing the grave danger their loved one faced.

She turned to Dylan and indicated Jesse with a flick of her eyes. Dylan nodded and traded places with her. He was murmuring something to Jesse as she went to talk to others, anyone who might be able to give her some facts.

Before she’d found anyone who knew much else, a doctor in scrubs appeared. He addressed the group. “Mr. and Mrs. Redbird have authorized me to let Dawn’s friends know of her condition. Anyone here for Dawn?”

As one, the whole group surged toward him and he took a step back. “Okay, as of ten minutes ago, she was out of surgery and headed for the recovery room. Her status is critical but stable. She is expected to survive. Thank you, and I’ll update you as her condition improves.” He turned to go, but Alex, primed for her reporter role, called out.

“Doctor! What can you tell us about her leg?” she asked, as he turned back to the sound of her voice.

“Oh, sorry. Ms. Redbird’s leg was broken and pinned between the steering wheel and the console. I’m afraid we had to amputate just below the knee. We won’t know for certain that will be enough for about twelve hours.”

Cries and sobs broke out behind her, but Alex went numb. Amputate! Just a few weeks before, Dawn had led her group down seven or eight long city blocks. Who would lead them now? She searched the crowd for Jesse and not seeing him, searched for Dylan instead. There he was. The comfort she felt in seeing Dylan turned to sadness as she took in Jesse’s figure, curled into a miserable ball in the chair next to Dylan.

~~~

Dylan had done his best to comfort the boy, but Jesse was inconsolable. Finally, Dylan turned Jesse over to a group of his friends and found Alex. “We need to get out of here.”

Alex objected, saying she needed to be there to cover the story as it unfolded.

“Come on, just down to the cafeteria if you insist on staying. I’d like to talk to you in private.”

Alex allowed him to lead her away from the grieving crowd. In the elevator, he put his arms around her and held her close. As they approached the cafeteria, the smell of institutional food grew stronger and Dylan’s stomach rumbled in spite of himself. He guided Alex through the line, choosing foods he knew she liked and something for himself, before finding a table in a corner where few people were sitting.

Alex picked at her food, still thinking about Dawn he supposed. “Alex, I heard a little more from Jesse after you left. Apparently, Dawn was with it enough to tell the deputies it was no accident. Someone deliberately ran her off the road. Whatever this is, it’s dangerous. I’m asking you, please, not to go digging for anything. Report the facts and then leave it alone. Can you do that?”

“Who?” she asked.

“Alex, are you all right?” His question referred to her flat responses and the dull look in her eyes.
What’s wrong with her?
Was she having a flashback to her own brush with death?

“I’m fine,” she said. “Who ran her off the road? Did she know?”

“Jesse didn’t say. He did say her mother accused the Patriots of doing something, even before they found Dawn. You were there, I think.”

“Yes.”

“Alex, listen. This is very important. I know you’re aware of how dangerous these guys are. I’m asking you, if you love me, to back off this story. It could get you killed, and I’m not exaggerating.”

At least that got a reaction. Not the one he was looking for, but a reaction just the same. Her face became animated for the first time since they’d left the group.

“It’s my job to get to the bottom of it, Dylan. I wouldn’t ask you not to do your job. I’ll investigate this story just as I would any other, and don’t try to manipulate me with ‘if you love me.’ That’s bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I’m not trying to manipulate you, babe. I believe you’ll put yourself in danger if you pursue it, and I can’t stand the thought. I need you. The boys need you. Please, don’t do this.”

In answer, she got up. “Go home, Dylan. Thanks for coming, but there’s nothing more for you to do here.”

Dylan stared after her as she walked away.
Did she mean that the way it sounded?
He pressed his lips together. All right, if she wanted him gone, he’d leave.

TEN

As Dawn’s condition improved over the next couple of weeks, so did Alex’s mood, and she gradually started talking to Dylan normally again. He didn’t bother trying to persuade her to drop the story, but he worried about her getting too close to the Patriots all the same. His schedule didn’t permit a visit to Casa Grande on either weekend, but he talked to Alex daily and managed to talk her into coming home for the weekend before her birthday. He and Paul had a surprise party planned.

Early on the Friday, he talked to Alex’s housemate, Lisa. “Is everything set?”

“Yeah, she thinks we’re headed for Rocky Point today. It’s on Saturday, right?” Lisa and Natalie
were
going to Rocky Point, but only for Friday night. They’d be in Dodge with their normal haul of seafood for the party on Saturday afternoon.

“Yeah, Saturday. Don’t get that mixed up!” Dylan laughed. He liked Lisa and Natalie both. They were good friends to Alex, even though they hadn’t known her long. Lisa kept him posted on Alex’s mood, especially since Dawn’s accident.

“Hey,” he said, as if it had been an afterthought. “What do you hear about Dawn?”

Lisa paused and said something away from the phone. When she came back, she said, “Natalie thinks she’s out of the hospital. Alex hasn’t said much for the past few days.”

She didn’t seem concerned, so Dylan let it go. “Okay, well, that’s good. So I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

When he ended the call with Lisa, Dylan called Paul, Alex’s dad, to let him know the shrimp boil was on. Paul told him Jen, Wanda and his mom, Alex’s Nana, would be there. Aunt Jess wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t come. Dylan told Paul that besides himself and his boys, he’d lined up his friend Ange and her boyfriend Bill and Bill’s boss, Kevin Thurston, along with Alex’s housemates, of course. That alone would complete the surprise.

“When’s Alex getting here?” Paul asked.

“She should be there by dinnertime tonight. Want to meet up at Jen’s place and grab a burger?”

“Sounds good.”

With the plans for the weekend set, Dylan left the office and went out on patrol with his partner. He wasn’t good company as he considered what he was going to say to Alex in private on Sunday. Their biggest hurdle was the distance between them. Dylan ached to hold her every single night, and Alex had told him she missed him desperately when they couldn’t see each other for more than a week. There were other reasons he wanted to change this situation.

Alex had decided that scholarship or no scholarship, she had to transfer to Phoenix next semester. She’d already stayed at the community college too long, and any opportunities for employment she wanted in a bigger town were going to slip away if she didn’t get there and graduate from one of the more prestigious communications programs in the state. That would put her even further away, but at least she wouldn’t be in the constant sight of the rougher elements in Casa Grande.

Without telling her, he had decided to try to transfer to a park closer to Phoenix. It wasn’t just for her. He’d never wanted to live in Dodge once he left, and had only come back because of his mom and the boys. Now he wanted to get the boys out, too, before the small-town mentality had a chance to ruin their promise. They were such bright kids, inquisitive, smart and full of energy. They deserved better than the little town could give them in educational experience.

For all these reasons, he’d decided to tell Alex that he’d be moving to Phoenix or a suburb, as soon as he could get a transfer. If she agreed, he wanted her to move in with him and the boys. It would help her with housing and him with the boys, since he’d be moving away from his support group. Best of all, it would mean she was with him every night, every day, always. He wanted to marry her, but she wasn’t ready for that. Maybe she’d at least agree to this.

ELEVEN

On Friday morning, Alex couldn’t wait to get on the road, but first she had a couple of things to run down. Dawn was out of the hospital and had agreed to see her this morning, but she was at home with her parents during her recuperation. Alex packed her things, planning to take a smaller road from the reservation to Gila Bend after talking with Dawn. Even though it was a slower road, not having to backtrack to Highway 8 on Highway 10 meant the time was a little less, and besides, it was less familiar territory. Something new to look at for a change.

Before she could leave for the reservation, though, she had another errand. She’d never been able to get over Lisa telling her that a former roommate had disappeared and they hadn’t even reported her missing. When she got to know them well enough, she asked the roommate’s name and began trying to find her. She’d finally hit pay dirt when she located the girl’s parents, but her concern had increased when she spoke to them on the phone. They hadn’t heard from their daughter for over four months. And yes, they’d reported her missing.

Chandler, Arizona was a suburb of Phoenix, technically, but was less than an hour from Casa Grande. It would require some backtracking, but she’d planned the morning so she could interview Sarah’s parents first, then Dawn, then head for home. The first thing she was going to ask Sarah’s parents, the Davises, was why in the world Sarah was attending school in Casa Grande instead of a bigger school in the metro area.

She headed out ten minutes late, at eight-thirty, hoping to make up those minutes on the highway to get to the nine o’clock appointment on time, since she’d been the one to press for such an early meeting on a Saturday.

The Davises were a subdued couple, offering Alex a cup of coffee and insisting when she said she didn’t want to be a bother. As soon as Mrs. Davis returned to the living room with a fragrantly steaming cup for Alex and one for Mr. Davis, Alex asked them her burning question. The Davises didn’t seem offended.

“She was interested in the sociology of the Native American tribes in southern Arizona,” Mrs. Davis explained. “She felt she’d have a better understanding if she went to school in that area, where so many of them go to the same school. She was drawn to the activist group. That girl that lost her leg, Dawn something, Sarah knew her. Such a terrible thing to happen to a young person.”

Alex was silent for a moment, processing the coincidence. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she remembered Dylan’s insistence that true coincidences were rare. “Did Sarah publicize her involvement with that group in any way?” she asked. “Facebook? A blog? Anything?”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Davis said, a smile breaking through for the first time. “Sarah was always posting on Facebook. Pictures of her with those kids, marching.”

“Mrs. Davis, did anyone ever speak to her housemates about her disappearance?” Alex asked.

“Well, no, I don’t think so. They called us, you know, to ask for Sarah, but she wasn’t here. I asked why they were calling, and they said because all of her things were gone. We all thought she’d gone on her own, so we were sure she’d turn up soon. When I finally persuaded my husband that she wouldn’t have stayed away so long without getting in touch, we told the officers that. They said she’d probably turn up if that was the case. I don’t think there was ever a real investigation. When you called, it was the first time anyone had.”

Alex carefully kept her face neutral. This must not have been a close family. Four months, and they were still sitting here, passively waiting for a missing daughter to turn up? It reminded her of her dad, still waiting for a wife who’d been gone almost fifteen years. That, in turn, pissed her off. She stood abruptly.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she said. “And for the coffee. I’ll be sure to let you know if I learn anything.

“Thank you, dear. If you see her, ask her to give us a call. We miss her.”

Apparently not much.

“Of course I will,” Alex said. She didn’t expect to see Sarah. In fact, she had a horrible feeling Sarah could be one of the unidentified sets of remains on her blog’s database. Who sat back and waited that long? Oh, right, her dad.

Half an hour after leaving the Davis house, Alex sat in a straight chair in Dawn’s cramped bedroom while Dawn gave her the details about her accident. Alex shuddered at the brutality of it. There was no doubt, the person who sideswiped Dawn’s compact car, then forced it to the side and over the low barrier intended murder.

Dawn thought it was a man, but couldn’t give much of a description. Her terror when he relentlessly steered her toward the barrier had occupied every brain cell, she told Alex. She was looking at the barrier and fighting her steering wheel, not thinking about identifying him later.

Alex relived those terrifying moments with Dawn and fought the beginnings of a panic attack. She forced herself to remain calm by asking Dawn if she remembered the make, model or even the color of the other vehicle. But Dawn couldn’t say, other than it was a dark car. The attack had come at night, while on her way back to school from the visit with her parents.

“Why did your mom think it was the Patriots?” Alex asked.

“We’ve had trouble with them before. My mom started this organization. You could ask about their history, she won’t mind.”

“I’m going to have to take a rain check on that. I’m due at home. When do you think you’ll return to classes?”

“Not sure. I’m going to have to get a special prosthesis made, and then learn to use it and all. Not next semester, for sure. Maybe spring semester, next year.”

“I’m so sorry, Dawn.”

“Thank you. I’ll be okay. Listen, Alex.
You
be careful.”

“That reminds me. Do you remember a Sarah Davis? Her mom mentioned she knew you.”

“Yeah, I know her. Haven’t seen her around lately,” Dawn answered.

“Did she say anything about leaving? Turns out, she used to live where I live now, and no one has heard from her for over four months, not even her parents.”

Dawn sat up abruptly. “No, she didn’t say anything. Isn’t someone looking for her?”

“No. Her things were cleared out when my housemates got back from a trip. I guess they go to Rocky Point almost every weekend. Anyway, they called her parents, and the parents called the police. No one is seriously looking for her. Since her belongings were gone, it appears she went off on her own. Was she the kind of girl who’d just go off and not say anything to anyone?”

“I didn’t know her well,” said Dawn. “I don’t think so. She was into us, you know? Almost like she wanted to
be
us. She was even learning some of the language.”

“Weird,” said Alex.

“No weirder than you, Alex,” Dawn said, laughing. “You like us because we’re Native, don’t you? It’s like reverse discrimination.”

Shocked, Alex stared at her. “No! That’s not it.” She paused. What could she say to redeem herself with Dawn? “I mean, okay, I guess I’m passionate about the way Native peoples have been treated, but my main focus is on the unidentified remains.”

Dawn turned serious. “Well, I can tell you that those Patriots you seem so interested in are behind more of those than the authorities realize. They hunt people like big game, Alex. They’re monsters.”

Alex asked for an explanation, but got no further. Dawn said she was tired, and as if she’d been listening, her mom came in to ask Alex to give Dawn some time to rest. Alex told them both goodbye and left with more to think about than she’d bargained for. The nearly two hours to Dodge passed almost unnoticed as she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. The key eluded her. It obviously had to do with the Patriots, but she didn’t really know their agenda. She thought they were anti-illegals. Why were they targeting Pimas and Caucasian college students?

The road was almost deserted, and as she drove, Alex thought she knew why. There was virtually nothing out here. After the small town of Maricopa, which was even smaller than Dodge, miles passed with little more than dirt roads leading off the two-lane road she was traveling. Seeing a signpost marking the border of the Sonoran Desert National Monument was a surprise. She’d been through the area on Highway 8 before, but never really noticed. It was just more of the same, desert, punctuated by creosote bushes, saguaro cacti, and an occasional outcropping of broken black rock.

It was even more surprising, then, when, not too far from her turn at Gila Bend, she passed a group of motorcycles riding in the other direction in tight formation. She had little time to wonder if they were the gang Dylan was always fussing about, when an eighteen-wheeler with no insignia blew past her, with another group of motorcycles behind it. The tractor-trailer rig must have somehow cut the motorcycle club in half when it came off the highway, she reflected. Before she knew it, she was at Gila Bend and had to slow down for the town speed limits and to turn onto Highway 85.