Shadow Wolf (5 page)

“No wonder your grandmother wants her back.”

“Yeah. We got to get her pretty quick. My grandmother wants her before next July, so she’s sent my older brothers up there to find her.”

“I hope they can.”

Kino glanced at her. “I still see that little girl in that pink dress. I wish I could have stopped them from going up to that rodeo.”

Lea placed a hand on his thigh, feeling the muscle jump under her light touch. A moment later his hand covered hers, fingers entwined.

“Your brothers will find her.”

“I hope so. I dream of seeing her at her Sunrise Ceremony. Of beating the drums as she dances.” He let Lea go and returned his hand to the wheel.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For taking my mind off what happened today. I’m grateful.”

He gave a shrug as if it was nothing and silence filled the cab for a moment.

“Why did you come down here, instead of joining them?” she asked.

His wistful expression vanished and his face hardened into an icy determination. “Got business down here, too.”

He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t press. Somehow she felt she didn’t want to know this particular business because she knew it had to do with the man he hunted.

“Will you answer one more question, Officer Cosen?”

“I will if you call me Kino.”

“Okay. Kino.” It sounded right. The unusual name fit him somehow since he was like no man she’d ever met. “Did you really intentionally shoot out my mirrors and windshield?”

“Had to. He was going to kill you, right?”

“Were you trying to kill him or distract him?”

“Distract him.”

She breathed away her relief. So he had acted in violence only in defense.

“But only because I didn’t have a shot.”

Lea cast him a reluctant look. Why had she allowed herself to hope otherwise?

“He deserves killing, Lea.”

Did he? Did anyone? And was that really up to him?

She felt a cold wave of fear as the moment replayed in her mind. The gun aimed at her head and the expression of indifference on the shooter’s face. In the past, she had considered what she might do if threatened. Then when the time came she had done nothing. It had been easier than she’d expected not to fight for her life.

She stared at the road, lost in her recollections. She had been a pacifist since she was ten, though she hadn’t known the name for it then, or that there was an entire group of people who, like her, believed that fighting for any reason or any circumstance was wrong.

Kino had a different world view.

She looked back at him, alert as he glanced in the rearview and then back to her. “How did you know that guy would be there? Did you know about the...bodies?”

“We got a tip from a friend about the smugglers. A trucker. He’s from Black Mountain, originally.” Kino’s expression was stormy again, but she couldn’t tell if it was the topic or subject that touched a nerve. “He brings supplies to gas stations along the border. He sees a lot. This time he saw a line of men cross the road, all in camo.”

“Camo. Is that important?”

“The cartels supply their smugglers with camo backpacks and shirts. Makes it harder to see them moving in the rough. They also give them those carpet slippers. Darn hard to track.”

She recalled now the odd footgear on the feet of the dead men. She hadn’t registered it at the time, but she remembered that they’d looked as though they’d been made to wear for dusting floors. “I haven’t seen any of those guys before or ones like them.”

“You will if you stay here very long. They’re dangerous. If you see them, go the other way and call us.”

She nodded and glanced out at the desert, the fading light making the saguaros look like giant sentinels casting long shadows ahead of them. Lea rubbed her hands together, the air-conditioning suddenly as cold as the blood in her veins.

Kino’s unit radio crackled on, broadcasting information about apprehensions and calling for transport.

“Do you have to respond to that?” she asked.

“Off duty,” he said. “How long you been here?”

“Three weeks. I’m here on an internship. It’s my last course before graduating. Community service and some anthropology all in one. I’ll be here through mid-July.”

Kino cast her an appraising look. “From college?”

“Yes.” She let the pride in saying so show in her smile.

“Good for you. I finished police academy, but that’s it.”

“Better than most.” She didn’t have to tell him how many of their people dropped out before they earned their high school diploma.

He asked her about her family and she told him most of it. Not about her mother, of course, or her elder sister. But the rest. That she had two younger sisters and one older. Her father worked for HUD—Housing and Urban Development—fixing all sorts of problems, and her mother worked in the office registering payments and such.

“We got over a thousand people back there in Black Mountain waiting for housing.”

“Yeah. It’s bad on Salt River, too.” She wondered if she should tell him about her dad. No, she decided. It was too sad.

“I’ll bet your dad is plenty busy working for HUD,” said Kino.

She looked away. HUD oversaw the public housing projects that made up the bulk of all homes on the rez. Most of the housing was lousy and in short supply. Her dad had been part of the solution. He
had
been.

“Yeah. Something is always broken.”

“You know, last winter, up on Black Mountain, they had to give away wood because so many of the people couldn’t afford it and their pipes froze in the cold. HUD couldn’t keep up with all those ruptured lines. It was cheaper to give away firewood.”

“Same in Salt River. Plus, somebody keeps setting fires to one of the houses. Just one, but they’ve burned it down three times. My mom says they can’t catch the guy and are considering just plowing it under. But they really need every house.”

“It’s like the old joke,” said Kino. “One guy says, ‘The food here is terrible.’ And the other guy says, ‘Yeah, and the portions are too small.’”

She chuckled at that. “Exactly.”

He’d done it again, she realized. Taken her mind away from her troubles. He had a natural way of speaking and an earnest style of listening that put her at ease. She had expected him to interrogate her as the border agent at Cardon had, but he’d kept the conversation casual, sharing some of what he knew about the area as they drove toward town, like where to have breakfast and who made the best coffee. He surprised her by telling her which church he attended, not that it was surprising that he was Christian. Since the Spanish had come with their missions more than five hundred years ago, many of the Apache people were Catholic.

Her stomach rumbled.

“Wow. We need to get you fed,” he said.

She realized she hadn’t eaten anything since...before she’d left for the water station. Lea pressed a hand over her noisy tummy as the day’s events closed in on her again.

This time she couldn’t control the shakes, so she gripped her hands into fists.

Kino steered to the shoulder and pulled her into his arms. She needed the strength of him and the solid reassurance of his touch.

“Come here,” he whispered and she leaned toward him. He gathered her in.

He stroked her head as she allowed herself the indulgence of tears.

“It’s all right. I got you.”

If only that were true. But his recent charm was offset by the man she’d seen in the desert, the hard, cold man who hated what she did and what she represented. She pressed one hand against his chest, intending to move away. His grip tightened and she was trapped between the solid muscle of his chest and the strength of his arms. She found this was exactly where she needed to be.

“Give yourself a minute, Lea. You’re entitled.”

How did a man, no older than she was, get to be so wise? She relaxed, letting him hold her, calm her with the gentle stroking of his hand over her back. He didn’t try to kiss her. Maybe, just maybe, he was really a gentleman who was putting her needs above his.

When her breathing lost its hitch, she wiped the moisture from her eyes. He let her go with a kiss on the top of her head. As she pulled back, all Lea could think was how much she wanted to kiss that wide, generous mouth. She stared at him a moment and he sat quietly for her perusal.

“You’re very brave,” he said at last.

“Brave?” she choked out. “I’m crying.”

“You don’t need to be brave now. But when you needed your strength, you had it. I saw you face that gunman. Like a true Apache woman.”

She was hardly that. Even her Sunrise Ceremony could not change the truth of her origins. “I was terrified.”

“But you didn’t fall to pieces. And when the windshield went out you dove away from him and took cover. You used your radio to call for help. You survived him. That’s not just luck.”

What he saw as bravery, she saw as resignation. Acceptance that she would forfeit her life instead of trying to kill the man who would kill her. It was not until the bullets shattered the glass that she had acted.

She lifted her head and stared up at Kino as a question formed in her mind. He had not been close enough to see her lift her radio.

“How do you know all that?”

“I saw you through my scope.”

That sent a chill through her. He’d had her sighted, as if she were an elk or bear. He’d watched that man point the gun at her and then he had acted.

“He killed them all, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he do that? They were just people. They weren’t even armed, were they?”

“No. They weren’t.” Kino looked at her a long minute as if deciding how much to say. “He’s been killing all his mules. He meets them, shoots them and takes the drugs. We don’t know if he’s their contact or if he’s robbing them.”

“But why? He doesn’t need to kill them to take the drugs.”

Kino gave a long sigh. “Could be so he doesn’t have to transport them to Phoenix.”

“Is that what you think?”

He gave a quick shake of his head.

“Why, then?”

“Maybe he likes it.”

“Likes it? What? The killing?”

Kino shrugged. “Or...”

She moved to the edge of her seat. “What?”

“No witnesses.”

Her heart beat in her throat. “Until now. I saw him.”

“And he saw you. That’s why I picked you up. I want to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh.” Did he hear the disappointment in her voice? She had no right to expect that her interest in him was mutual. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if he didn’t find her attractive? Then, at least, she’d have another good reason not to make more of a fool of herself.

Visions of that gun loomed in her mind, the black center of the barrel staring at her like a soulless eye. She was shaking again. He tightened an arm around her shoulders. Lea clutched at his hand as if she dangled from a cliff. She clung to him as her convictions wavered. It was one thing to hold faith in theory. It was another to place your life where your morals were. She didn’t know if she had half the courage he seemed to believe she had.

“You think he’ll come back for me?” She met his gaze and saw the concern there.

“I would.” He squeezed her shoulder and then pulled away, resting his hands loosely on the steering wheel as his attention flicked to the rearview mirror before he pulled them back onto the road.

He glanced over at her. “You can’t go home, Lea. Not until we have a unit in place. Clay is working that out with the tribal police. He’ll call when it’s safe. Until then, you stick with me.”

“I thought you were taking me home.”

“Not a good idea.”

“You think he might know where I live?”

“Probably not. But it’s possible. Let’s just be on the safe side. It’s your life we’re talking about.”

“It’s possible...” His words sent a shot of adrenaline zinging through her and she stiffened, gasping.

Kino’s glance shot to her and then returned to the road, his brows low over dark eyes. “What?”

She pressed a hand over her pounding heart, the beating so fast her chest ached. “He might know!”

“What?”

“Ernesta. Nita. My neighbors. I told them they could use my shower.” Lea knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Their water is off and they know where the key is and they might be there now. I never thought... It didn’t occur to me. I have to warn them.”

His voice took on that cold, hard edge that frightened her. “What do they look like?”

“Nita is Navajo and Ernesta is from Salt River. Like me.”

Kino accelerated down the highway, racing toward Pima.

Chapter Seven

Kino hoped the buzzing awareness was not premonition but just his body’s necessary preparation to confront danger. He also hoped that the tribal police had beaten them to the trailer park. He didn’t want Lea in the middle of another shoot-out.

“There’s no answer,” said Lea, her voice frantic as she pressed her cellular phone to her ear. “I tried them both.”

Kino said nothing, but focused on driving.

Lea gripped the phone as if it were a small wild animal struggling to escape. “But Ernesta is taller than I am. And Nita is heavier. We don’t look that much alike and...and he’s seen me close-up. He wouldn’t confuse us.”

She looked to Kino for reassurance and he had none to give. The shooter might easily confuse them from a distance in the twilight. If he were taking Lea out, he’d do it with a scope. He sure as heck wouldn’t walk up close where anyone in the trailer park might see him.

“Would he?” asked Lea.

“We’re almost there.”

Kino had made only one call, to Clay, requesting he send tribal police to Lea’s address.

A call came in on Kino’s radio. He grabbed the mike clipped to the loop on the left shoulder of his uniform.

“Kino.”

His brother’s voice crackled to life. “Unit is on site.” Here Clay hesitated. “Kino?”

“Yeah.”

“She still with you?”

Kino’s body straightened. “Yes.”

The silence that followed filled the cab as Kino met Lea’s worried gaze.

“The unit called in a 451.”

Kino clenched his jaw and then responded. “Roger. En route.”

“Units responding,” said Clay. “Out.”

“What’s a 451?” asked Lea, her voice high, anxious.

“It’s... Lea, it’s a homicide.”

She clenched her hands into fists, one still gripping her phone as she pressed them to the sides of her head. “Oh, no. No.”

Kino pulled into the RV park to find a wall of red and blue flashing lights. Police units lined the narrow road between the trailers.

“Stay here,” said Kino as he exited to investigate, pressing the button on his key chain to lock all doors so that no one could open the door or see past the tinted glass.

He identified himself as a police officer to one of the on-duty officers who told him that there had been a shooting. They had no witness. One body. Two shots.

“Female?” asked Kino.

“Yeah. No ID yet.”

“She Indian?”

The Tohono O’odham tribal officer pressed his mouth into a thin line and nodded.

Kino looked at the blue tarp covering the body, certain the killer had taken out the wrong woman. Did he know? He would discover his mistake soon enough. He needed to have Lea well away by then.

“Close range?”

“Doubt it. Lots of expansion. Entry is in the back and exit in front.”

Kino wanted to stay, to look at the body and figure out the angle of the shot. To cut for sign. Instead he looked back at his vehicle. Lea was there, watching them, seeing her friend there on the ground just like those men in the desert. He needed to get her out of here.

He returned to the car and pulled away.

“Who is it? Is it Nita? Ernesta?”

He cleared the last trailer and pulled in beside a mobile home.

“I’m not sure.” He only knew it wasn’t Lea. The relief of that took him off guard.

She reached for the door handle. “I can identify her. I know them both.”

He gripped her arm and struggled, but she was small and it was simple to pull her back into his vehicle. She used her arms like a swimmer, trying to free herself, so he gave her shoulders a shake. It got her attention.

“You can’t help her.”

He met her gaze, trying not to be affected by her tearstained face and the anguish of her expression.

“He might still be here,” he said.

Lea stopped struggling and stared up at him with wide, dark eyes. Tears flowed down her cheeks and her chin wrinkled as she tried and failed to stanch the sobs.

“Quiet now,” he whispered. “They don’t have her identity yet.”

“But I should do something.”

“You
did
do something. You stayed in the car so he didn’t see you.”

She glanced frantically around. “Is he still here?”

“Maybe. But if he thinks he got you, that gives us a head start.”

“But Ernesta... Nita.”

“Gone.” Kino turned her to face him and gripped both her shoulders. “You understand? He thought one of them was you, and he took her out. He might be here right now, watching. Don’t give yourself away.”

Lea went stiff at the thought then pulled the door closed and covered her mouth with her hands as if the air outside had become toxic.

“You told me he’d come.” She pounded on his chest. “This is all my fault! You told me and I told them they could use my shower!”

He tried to take her hand but she pulled back, pressing herself to the door as if preparing to throw herself out of the car. She didn’t want comfort. She wanted to escape this nightmare—and he could hardly blame her.

“It’s not your fault, Lea. I sent a unit. You called her. If you want to blame someone, blame him.”

She stilled.

“He came to your house and shot the first Indian woman he came across. We have to get him, Lea. You and I, together.”

She slumped in her seat. A moment later they were driving into the gathering darkness.

* * *

K
INO
FELT
L
EA
’
S
sobs as if they were his own. That had never happened before. But he experienced her pain just as intensely and agonized with the knowledge that he could do nothing to ease her suffering.

Her friend’s death proved his belief—the Viper planned to eliminate the only surviving witness of his crimes. Maybe he should have told Lea that she was a target sooner. Maybe then she could have warned her friends. But he hadn’t. He had only thought about Lea. He’d have to live with that doubt. But he was sure as hell that Lea didn’t need to live with it. She’d done nothing wrong.

He tried to touch her but she pulled away, huddling against the door, as far from him as possible. Why did that hurt him? She was nothing to him but a witness. Right?

But he knew that was no longer true. Somewhere between finding Lea lying in the bits of broken glass this morning and this moment, when she sat weeping softly in the seat beside him, his feelings had changed. She’d gone from being his witness to something more. Earlier he had protected her because he’d needed her. Now he just wanted her safe and wished very much that she had not bumbled into the middle of all this.

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

She lifted her head and stared, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher his intentions. Funny, he thought, that she would think of that sort of danger after all the other threats she had faced today.

“I’m not comfortable with that.”

“You don’t need to be comfortable. You need to be safe. I can make sure he doesn’t get to you.”

When she spoke her voice seemed almost sedated, as out of focus as her gaze. “Maybe I could stay with a friend.”

“That would just put the friend in the crosshairs.”

She rubbed her arms and rocked back and forth. “I can’t stay with you all night.”

“Lea, think for a minute. You need protection. Nowhere else is safe.”

“I could go home.”

“To Salt River? He’ll follow.”

She slapped her hands on her thighs in frustration. “You make him sound like the Terminator or something.”

“Yeah. Exactly, but with one important difference. I can kill him.”

She sat still as stone, moving her hand only to wipe at her eyes while giving the occasional sniff. He wanted to pull the car over and kiss every tear from her face. Hold her. Comfort her.

You never got over losing a loved one. No amount of comfort in the world could make that right. Kino knew that much. He didn’t seek comfort. Only justice. For him and, now, for Lea, too.

“How could he know who I am? Where I live?” Lea asked, her voice quavering.

He put his mind back on the problem. The only ones who knew her identity were with border patrol. No, that wasn’t right. The tribal police had been called to watch her place. And if they’d used their radios to call the unit, which was very likely, anyone monitoring the police frequency could also have her address. Had they mentioned her name, too? Had the Viper been monitoring police radio frequency?

The people from Oasis knew her address. All of them, including that tall, white boss with the rattlesnake key chain.

“It’s a long list.”

“Oasis?”

“Plus border patrol, BLM, ICE, tribal police and anyone with a shortwave radio.”

She sank farther into her seat, looking small and vulnerable.

“They don’t know I picked you up. Right now you are missing, presumed dead. We need to keep it that way. Will you trust me?”

“You told me to stay put. But he might have seen me with that scope.”

“No. He didn’t. And if he did, then I’ll keep you safe, Lea.” He gripped her shoulder and squeezed.

She tilted her head toward him until her cheek brushed the back of his hand. The gentle caress made his body heat and his heart rate rise.

“I will protect you,” he said. It wasn’t just a promise. It was a vow, just like the one he had made over the body of his dead father all those years ago.

She nodded. “I believe you. But...”

“What?”

She sobbed again.

He reached over and rubbed her back as she made hiccuping sounds, her face buried in her hands.

“I don’t want any more killing,” she said, her words muffled against her palms.

He withdrew his hand and returned it to the wheel. “I can’t make that promise because I’ll kill him if I get the chance.”

She lifted her tear-streaked face and stared out at the shadowy twilight. Kino wondered what she was seeing. Her friend’s motionless body in front of her trailer or the shooter holding her at gunpoint?

His phone vibrated and he took it out to see that the call was from Clay. He swiped to accept and raised the phone to his ear.

“Yup.”

In the quiet of the cab, Kino was certain Lea would hear Clay’s words, but did not try to prevent her. She should know what was happening. Clay reported that a border patrol officer named Dale Mulhay had been suspended. He was the officer who had taken Lea’s statement. According to what Clay had found out, Captain Barrow had told him to keep Lea in custody until he arrived. They were holding Mulhay responsible for Lea’s release. They hadn’t yet heard that Lea was not the victim, but that would be at any time. Clay said that rumors and speculation surrounding Mulhay’s actions were rampant.

“You think he’s dirty?” asked Kino.

“That’s what I’m hearing.”

“He can’t be the shooter. He interviewed Lea. She would have recognized him.” He could be working with him, though, Kino realized. Was that why he’d ignored the captain’s directive and sent Lea into danger? “Can you go talk to Mulhay?”

“If you want me to. Might be better for me to watch your back for now.”

“Yeah. Mulhay will have to wait.”

“I looked into Moody’s background,” said Clay. He was referring to the owner of the truck they had tracked from the scene. “His wife is O’odham. She raises sheep and chickens. He’s a part-time mechanic. The truck involved in the shooting isn’t registered to him and the registration has expired. Truck is uninsured.”

“Who is it registered to?” asked Kino.

“Rosa Keene. I’ve got an address. She’s in Tucson.”

“Who is she?”

“No idea,” Clay said.

“What’s her truck doing in Moody’s yard?”

“Don’t know.”

“Ask Gabe to call in a favor. He has friends up there in Tucson. Have an officer visit her.”

“All right. But...” Clay didn’t finish his thought.

“What?”

“He’s on his way north by now.”

Kino had completely forgotten about the trip to the Sweetgrass reservation in search of his sister. “He can call a friend en route,” he told his brother.

“I’ll ask him.”

“Anything else?” asked Kino.

“Moody’s got a DUI and a prior for narcotics.”

“Using or selling?”

“Both.”

“What do you think?” asked Kino.

“Best keep an eye on him. He’s mixed up in this somehow. Maybe I’ll stop by his work and see what kind of shoes he wears. You want me home or what?”

“Can you go check Lea’s address for sign?”

“Nearly full dark,” Clay noted.

“I know and there are about six units there. But there’s a half-moon and I think the shooter used a scope.”

“Maybe they haven’t fouled the tracks. I’ll have a look. You shouldn’t go home. Won’t be long before they figure out who gave Lea a ride from the station.”

“I’ll go to Carver’s. Call when you get close.” Kino disconnected.

Lea pressed a hand to her forehead and then rubbed it down her face. “I don’t understand how this could be happening.”

They drove through Pima and off Main onto Artists Road. When he got close to his place, he cut the lights and threw the SUV into Neutral, coasting silently past the squat, ugly cinder-block house that was his temporary residence. He saw no one and no vehicles, but he rolled right by and pulled into a house three doors down, gliding into the carport that was built into the front left side of the home. This was Joe Carver’s place and Joe would be working all night. He was a Shadow Wolf, Navajo, who had been with the unit for several years.

“Is this Carver’s house?” she asked, staring at the home that looked like every other house along the road.

“He’s a buddy of mine.” He released his safety belt. “I need to check his place.”

“Can I come?”

He debated whether she’d be safer in the vehicle or with him. He might be out here with night-vision goggles and a scope sited on them right now. Or he might anticipate Kino’s move and be inside that house, waiting to ambush them.

Kino glanced at Lea and knew he wouldn’t leave her alone. Whatever was waiting, they’d face it together.

“Stay behind me.”