Shadow Wolf (12 page)

It was like staring down at her aunt. Was this what her mother had found when she’d finally made it back?

“Why?” she whispered.

Kino looked at the body but didn’t touch it. She wondered if that was for hygienic reasons or because of the Apache people’s general prohibition against touching the dead.

Before the Americans came, her people did not reside near dead bodies. In the old days, before the reservation, when a person died, the family would bury the body and then burn the deceased’s house with everything inside. The family then moved away, to keep the ghost from following. Of course, back then the houses were made by the women over several days and the encampments were never permanent. Now they lived mostly in BIA housing, and burning them down after a death was generally discouraged. But old traditions died slowly, and some houses were still burned, especially after the evictions.

“Injury, likely. Or maybe she just couldn’t go on.”

Lea knew what that meant. No water.

Kino touched her shoulder, and she tore her gaze from the dead girl and stared at him.

He nodded his head, as if just deciding something.

“I get it now, Lea.”

“What?”

“What you do. I understand why you would break the law to set up water stations.”

She felt the flicker of a smile as their gazes held. “Thank you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Lea knelt beside the girl and prayed. It was a prayer her mother had taught her. A prayer to the Virgin Mary to guide this girl home.

When she had finished, Kino helped her to her feet and then moved away from the child who had died here alone in the desert.

Kino pointed to the prints on the ground.

“They didn’t fill up at the water station. They stopped there but there were only two sets of prints. One from this group and, before that, someone who came in a truck. Prints are a match for the Viper. He was here recently.”

“How do you know?” she asked, peering at the tracks.

Kino squatted and pointed. “Right here. There is a chunk missing from the back of his left heel. Same tracks as the ones he left by those bodies.”

The bodies that had lain in a row after he had shot them execution style. His human mules who’d had no further value after they had delivered their cargo.

She rose. Suddenly she wanted to find this man as much as Kino. And in that moment she understood Kino’s quest for justice and his need to kill this man. And that terrified her.

She’d forgiven her father’s shooter. And she’d tried to be merciful and to help those in need. But that wasn’t enough. Not when there were predators like this in the desert. What chance did a rabbit have against a rattlesnake?

“What’s wrong, Lea?”

“I’m tired of this! Tired of Americans just throwing these people away as if they were nothing. Tired of this Viper killing the people who bring him his cargo. Tired of people having to choose between carrying these filthy drugs and a future with no hope. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Kino offered his hand, but she launched into his arms instead. He held her for several moments while she reined in her trembling, impotent fury and slowed her breathing. It was the behavior of an Apache woman, holding in her pain so that none could tell what sorrow she held in her heart. Their history was full of proof that it had been necessary to build that kind of toughness and it seemed it still was.

He shook his head. “I want this guy stopped. But I wonder if my brother Clyne was right.”

“What did he say?”

“Same as you. That our father is dead and gone, but my sister is out there and that is where my duty lies. Not here among the dead.”

She couldn’t answer such a question, so she didn’t try.

“Maybe you’re right to help anyone who needs it. I don’t know. I’m all mixed up inside. And that could get us killed.”

She understood that he was not being dramatic. He needed to make split-second decisions. Shoot. Don’t shoot. He couldn’t hesitate.

Lea looked up at him, this protector, whom she trusted with her life but not her secrets. Now she wanted him to know everything but still feared his reaction. They had just formed a sort of truce and what she was about to tell him would jeopardize that. Still, she needed him to know.

“I have to tell you something else,” she whispered.

His expression became cautious as he pulled back far enough that he could gently clasp each elbow, giving her the silent support of his body and his attention.

“Do you remember me telling you about my mother and her sister?”

Kino nodded. She dropped her chin, avoiding his eyes, the shame of their choices somehow reflecting on her. His hands tightened, giving her the silent encouragement she needed to tell him this next part, the part that had brought her to this time and place.

“I know I’m helping the smugglers. I’m willing to help them along with the others. They’re all the same to me.”

Kino’s hands dropped away. Now he looked at her as if she had become the enemy.

“They’re
not
the same.”

“Kino, listen. Those people who bring the drugs, they don’t have the money to pay the coyotes’ fee. Without it, their only choice is to carry. They have to earn their passage. The cartel tells them, ‘Here, you bring this backpack over the border and we’ll get you across, no charge.’ They either carry the drugs or stay behind.”

“So they
do
have a choice.”

She gave him a plaintive look, praying he would understand. “Everyone has a right to survive. Even if it means breaking a law. You should understand that. The border, it’s drawn by the Americans. Before that it was drawn by the Mexicans. Before that it was the Spanish. It’s not real. It doesn’t exist. This? All this?” She pointed to the ground. “This is Tohono O’odham land. This—the border?—northern Mexico. All of it.”

“You’re helping the cartels.”

“I’m helping people. People like my mother and her sister.”

“They were mules?”

“Yes.” Lea registered the look he gave her, absorbing it like a blow.

“Lea, do you know if DeClay is moving product?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you mixed up in all this?”

“No.”

“You have to tell me if you are.”

“I’m not. But we all know that the mules stop for water with the illegal immigrants. I don’t distinguish. I can’t. To deny one is to deny the other.”

The silence stretched as they regarded each other—strangers again. She could see from his frigid expression that anything they had shared had died with her confession.

“Kino, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my aunt and mother. What they did, I mean. But you don’t understand the choices they faced.”

“I understand that your mother was a smuggler and an illegal. I understand about your giving those like her assistance.”

“I’m giving them water.”

“You’re no better than the coyotes. You’re not Apache.” That cut clean through her like the long blade of a hunting knife. But she found that even when accused of the worst, she still endured. She lifted her chin and met the condemnation in his eyes.

“At least I’m not a vigilante.”

“I’m taking you back to Oasis. You can do what you want from there.”

She stood motionless as the fear slowly rose until it hit her nervous system, setting off tiny shocks of panic. That killer knew who she was and Kino was preparing to cut her loose, throw her into the snake pit. Without him, what chance did she have? Who would help her?

“I’m checking the water station,” said Kino.

He returned his attention to the water barrels and tried the spigot.

“No water,” he said.

“That’s why she died. That little girl. Because this station was empty.”

“She died because someone convinced her she had a chance crossing the desert in June.”

He lifted the barrel with one hand. It seemed too heavy to be empty. He dropped it back to the wooden platform and heard the familiar rattle just as the entire lid popped off and dozens of rattlesnakes poured from the opening.

Lea screamed.

“Get back,” he ordered as rattlesnakes spilled out onto the ground as if from an overturned cup.

Lea jerked beside him, her arms flying wide as she arched. An instant later he heard the gunshot. Lea fell toward him and he caught her as she collapsed.

Shot, he realized. Lea had been shot.

Kino didn’t hesitate. He lifted Lea, now deadweight, and ran through the snakes, feeling the strike of more than one on his leather moccasins. Their fangs didn’t puncture the hide, and he thanked his ancestors for knowing a thing or two about snakes. He reached the SUV and tugged open the passenger’s-side door. Once he had Lea inside, he searched the landscape for the shooter, judging his position from the direction of Lea’s fall. But he saw nothing. Surely the shooter had had time to take a few shots at him, unless
he
wasn’t the target. His witness was. It was the Viper. Kino felt it in his soul.

Was he watching them through a scope right now?

Kino stood on the running board, resisting the tug of need to go after him. Then he looked down at Lea and knew in that instant that she was more important to him than the shooter. More important than his quest to find his father’s killer. Lea’s life was worth more to him than anything in this world.

He didn’t have to support her efforts to help the very people he hunted in order to care for her, did he?

Lea slumped in the seat. She didn’t seem to be breathing.

Kino grasped her shoulder. “Lea!”

Their last conversation flashed into his mind. He’d told her he’d abandon her. He’d said she wasn’t Apache. He’d spoken out of anger, but now he feared he’d never have the chance to make things right.

“Please, God, let her be alive.”

She gasped as if surfacing from beneath deep water. Then she coughed, her breathing labored and unnatural. He needed to check for injuries and he needed to get her out of here.

Kino closed the door and ran to the opposite side of the vehicle. Then he swung up and into the driver’s seat as the snakes wriggled past in all directions. He threw the SUV into gear and took off, driving all the way to the highway before pulling up short. Then he threw the SUV into Park and checked on Lea, praying for her life.

He tugged open the overlarge shirt and found the body armor in place. Kino muttered aloud his prayer of thanks as he pulled apart the fastenings and lifted her gently forward, tugging away the shirt and vest. There, in the center of her back, just below her scapula and over her heart, a purple bruise was forming. Lea had been shot and, although the force of the bullet had been absorbed, the impact was the equivalent to being kicked by a horse. A damned big horse.

“You’re all right, Lea. I’ve got you.” He laid her on her side, her head in his lap. Then he set them in motion. Her respiration was shallow and her color bad. But she was breathing.

How had the Viper known where they’d be? How had he found them?

Kino lifted the mike and then replaced it, unsure if he should call for help, take Lea to the hospital or to the safe house. He needed Clay. But for now he had to get Lea some help.

With his destination in mind, Kino accelerated. He stroked Lea’s head as he drove. “Wake up, Lea,” he begged.

If anything happened to her, it would be his fault.

En route he got a call on the radio. He would have ignored it, but it was his brother.

“Cosen here,” replied Kino automatically as he glanced at the speedometer, which read 95 miles per hour.

“Updating you,” Clay returned. “We just got a call from tribal. They found Bill Moody dead at his residence.”

“Cause?”

“Homicide.”

What was going on? Who had killed Moody? Was it the Viper taking out possible leads?

“Need to speak to you,” said Clay. Clearly he meant not over the radio.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Hospital,” said Kino.

“Roger that. ETA is twenty. Got Gomez with me.”

Kino told Clay about the shooting and asked him to call it in.

“You got it. Be safe,” said Clay. Just as always, his big brother perpetually tried to keep him safe and out of trouble. At nineteen, Clay had been arrested, convicted and then served time. His brother knew about trouble firsthand. Seemed it just wasn’t in the Cosens’ DNA to stay clear of trouble.

“Roger. Out.” Kino put both hands on the wheel and the pedal to the floorboard.

Lea gave a soft moan.

“Hang in there, sweetheart.”

His mind tumbled like dried sagebrush in a windstorm. What did Clay have that he couldn’t say on radio? What if they were followed?

He had to keep Lea safe. Not because he needed a witness, but because he needed Lea.

That was it. He couldn’t play roulette with Lea’s life any longer. This had to stop and he had to stop it.

Chapter Seventeen

Kino pulled into the small regional hospital just after 11:00 a.m. and parked in the turnaround in front of the ER. Lea’s eyes were fluttering and she blinked up at him, her brow wrinkling in confusion. “Kino?”

“Yeah.” He stroked the soft curtain of hair from her face. “I got you. You’re all right.”

She smiled, struggled to sit upright and then flinched and closed her eyes, breathing through her mouth in short, uneven breaths. That scared him enough to get him running from his side of the SUV to hers. There he slipped his arms under her knees and around her back. Her color was gray and he didn’t like the blue tinge of her lips. She gasped as he lifted her and her breath came in little pants.

He ran the rest of the way through the electric doors and past the nurses’ station, heading for the treatment rooms he had visited when one of the Shadow Wolves had needed stitches. Someone yelled but he didn’t stop until he reached an empty, curtained exam area.

Lea didn’t open her eyes, but her forehead wrinkled and her panting was faster, as if she were the one running. He stretched her out on an examination table. Her eyes were pinched shut and her face registered pain. She curled into a ball on her uninjured side. Her skin had a gray cast that made him want to run for help, but instead he stayed by her. He stroked her head.

“Lea, we’re at the hospital. You’re safe.”

A nurse dressed in blue scrubs was the first to arrive. She washed her hands as she barked questions at him, then checked Lea’s eyes with a penlight and took her blood pressure. Others arrived and they tried to get him to go to the waiting room but succeeded in getting him only as far as the end of her bed.

He flashed his tribal police shield. “She’s my witness. She doesn’t leave my sight.”

“I’m taking off her clothing, Officer Cosen. You want to see that?”

He shook his head, but instead of looking away, he helped the nurse until together they’d stripped her out of her jeans, outer shirt and vest. The nurse cut off the T-shirt and the spaghetti-strap tank top beneath. The nurse unfastened Lea’s bra but left on her pink cotton panties.

Lea opened her eyes and tried to lift her arms but cried out.

“It hurts so much,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetie,” said the nurse. “We need to figure out what’s wrong. Then I can give you something for the pain. Just a few minutes longer. Hold on.” The nurse tied the gown in the back as Lea gripped Kino’s hand so tight his fingers tingled. The nurse and an orderly transferred Lea to a gurney and the nurse eased Lea to a reclining position that seemed to make her breathing less labored. Up went the rails and an orderly arrived to take Lea for a CT scan.

Kino walked beside her—even though the technician tried to get him to wait outside.

“Someone just shot her. So she doesn’t leave my sight while she’s here.”

“I’m sure the perpetrator isn’t in the hospital.”

“Are you? I’m not.”

He got no further argument as the woman now seemed anxious to get Lea processed as quickly as possible.

He thought he heard Lea call for him as he stood with the technician behind the barrier staring at Lea and the computer screen where the images appeared.

Clay and Nesto Gomez found him as they wheeled Lea back to the ER.

“Her heart and lungs are okay,” said Kino. “But she cracked two ribs. Not sure about her spleen yet.”

“What happened?” asked Clay.

“Somebody shot her in the back. Rifle.”

Clay looked down at Lea as her gurney wheeled past with the help of one orderly.

“Even with the vest that should have killed her.”

“I put extra ceramic panels all around.”

Clay looked Kino over. “They didn’t shoot at you?”

He shook his head and fell into step behind the gurney.

“Strange.”

When they reached the cubicle, one of the nurses tried to get them out of the hall and all three flashed badges. She gave up and opened the curtain that separated them from Lea, telling them not to get in her way.

Clay glanced at Kino. “Gomez was at Cardon Station.” He turned to Gomez. “Tell him what you told me,” he said.

Kino leaned against the examination table, switching his attention from Lea to Nesto as he spoke.

“I was there when Captain Barrow called Mulhay from the scene. That night when Mulhay was questioning Miss Altaha.” Gomez motioned over his shoulder at Lea’s prone figure. “Mulhay was typing, so he put the call on speaker. The thing is, I heard from the guys that the captain suspended Mulhay for letting Altaha leave the station when he’d given orders that they hold her until he got back from the homicide at the water station. But I
heard
Barrow tell Mulhay to release her.”

Kino straightened and glanced at Clay.

“So is Captain Barrow lying to cover his ass or is he lying because he’s got something to hide?”

“Or maybe he suspended Mulhay for some other reason,” offered Gomez.

“But we’ll never know because Mulhay is dead. Maybe that overdose wasn’t an accident. We got anything back on his COD?”

“Nope,” said Clay.

“Something stinks,” said Kino.

“I also got word from our uncle.” Clay glanced at Gomez. “He’s FBI.” Then he returned his attention to his brother. “He said he ran the information we gave him on Rosa Keene. She’s a dental hygienist, which is odd since she owns three new-model pickups, two ATVs but drives a 2003 Ford Escort. She rents a two-bedroom in Tucson but owns a climate-controlled storage unit in town free and clear. It’s worth 2.2 million dollars.”

“What?” asked Kino.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought, too. Doesn’t make any sense.”

“Any word from Gabe? Did he send someone to interview her?”

Clay stretched his neck. “Yeah. I talked to Gabe. He said he’s a little busy talking to the BIA up there in South Dakota, but he has a request in with Tucson PD. He also said that the BIA lists a three-year-old girl, orphaned the same month as the accident.”

Clay had switched topics from their current hunt for the Viper to his family’s hunt for their missing sister. For the first time Kino did not resent the reminder of his older brother’s quest. Instead of the familiar gnawing frustration at this problem, he felt a new understanding of what his real mission should be. But first he had to get Lea out of this alive.

“The same month? Not week or day?”

Clay watched him with a look of curiosity as Kino switched subjects, too. Had his brother expected him to keep his attention only on the Viper? Yes, of course he had, because that was all Kino had thought about or seen since they’d arrived. But not anymore. Now he saw Lea and Jovanna. And he wanted to save them both.

“That’s when they filed the paperwork,” said Clay. “Could be Jovanna. They listed the child as Sioux, tribe and parents unknown. Then they placed her in a foster home off the rez.”

“She alive?”

“Looks that way. Gabe says he’s got to get back to Black Mountain. There’s been some trouble. He wants you back, too. Said to tell you leave of absence is over.”

Kino worked for the tribal police, which meant he worked for their chief—his brother Gabe. They were short-staffed as it was and now he and their chief were both off the rez.

Kino blinked and stared at Lea. She was now connected to an IV drip, with an EKG monitoring her heart. They had her on her side and he could see that the nasty bruise was purple and black and had spread from her shoulder to the middle of her back.

“I’m staying,” said Kino.

Clay nodded. “I figured. What if we don’t find him?”

“He’ll find her. She’s seen his face. He can’t let her go.”

“You want me to stay?” asked Clay.

Kino debated and then made his decision. Clay had been up all night on patrol. “Get some rest. I’ll call if I need you.”

“You better.”

Gomez shook Kino’s hand and Kino thanked him for the information. Clay patted his shoulder. “Let me know how she’s doing.”

“I will. And, Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

Kino watched the two stride away and then turned his attention back to Lea.

The doctor arrived. She was heavyset with thick glasses, short, wavy brown hair and deep-set lines flanking her mouth. She checked the CT images on a laptop then ordered medication to be injected into Lea’s IV. Kino watched the muscles of Lea’s face relax as her body slackened.

“You her husband?” asked the doctor.

Kino hesitated, suddenly speechless, but he found his voice a moment later. “Bodyguard.”

He showed her his shield.

“Remind me not to hire you should the opportunity arise.” She pointed at the laptop. The screen was filled with a colorful image that Kino could not interpret. The doctor returned her attention and her hands to Lea’s abdomen, which looked flat. Kino had seen spleen ruptures in some of the more horrific auto accidents on the rez and he knew what a distended stomach meant. So the sight of Lea’s smooth cinnamon skin was a relief.

“I’m ordering an ultrasound to check her spleen. Two ribs broken but not displaced. I gave her a painkiller, but no sedation. Her breathing is shallow enough. It’s going to hurt to breathe, but she needs to or risk getting pneumonia.”

“You admitting her?”

“We’ll see. Depends on the blood work.”

He edged closer, slipping in beside Lea as the doctors came and went. He took her hand.

The nurse who had first treated Lea reappeared through the curtain circling Lea’s bed.

“How is she doing?” he asked.

“Blood pressure and heart rate are all good. I’d say that body armor saved her life.”

“Is she awake?”

“The pain meds are making her a little out of it, I’d imagine. But she’s conscious.” The woman’s gruff exterior was belied by the twinkle in her eyes and the slight twitch at the corners of her mouth. “I’ve got other patients to check on.”

With that, she hurried down the corridor and into another curtained examination area. He could hear her speaking to a patient.

Kino sat on the plastic stool and wheeled up beside Lea.

“I’m still here. Lea? Can you hear me?”

She nodded and then flinched.

“I’m sorry for everything I said. I admire you for helping them on their journey. And I’ve got no right to judge what your mother and aunt had to do. Given the same circumstances, I might do the same thing. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better. We should have stayed at the house where you were safe. If anything happens to you I’ll never forgive myself.”

Her hand was limp in his and her fingers were cold. He pulled the thin cotton blanket up over her body. This time when he took her hand, she squeezed back. Some of the fear left him, replaced by hope. She’d be okay. But what about the next time?