“We need to come up with a plan for tomorrow,” Booker said.

“Tomorrow?” Anita repeated. “I want to go look for my brother now. He might be hurt, or worse.”

“No.”

“No? Why not? I know you’re mad at me, Booker, but don’t take it out on my brother.”

He met her intense brown eyes. “We can’t go there at night, not without prior planning. It’s too dangerous. Your brother wouldn’t want you to do a fool thing like that. I’ll take you in the morning.”

She blinked. “Why would you do that?”

Yeah, why would you do that, Booker? He gritted his teeth. Because I’m completely insane, he wanted to tell her. Out of my mind to get involved with you again when the smallest memory of you still makes me crazy. He understood the anger she kindled in him, the hurt.

What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was the strong need that rose in his gut, the need to protect her, in spite of everything.

DANA MENTINK

lives in California with her family. Dana and her husband met doing a dinner theater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. In college, she competed in national speech and debate tournaments. Besides writing novels, Dana taste-tests for the National Food Lab and freelances for a local newspaper. In addition to her work with Steeple Hill Books, she writes cozy mysteries for Barbour Books. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her at www.danamentink.com.

Race to Rescue
Dana Mentink

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose.

—Romans 8:28

To the Lord for setting my feet on this journey and Penny Warner for helping me along the way.

CONTENTS

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

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

There’s nothing wrong, she told herself. There’s a logical explanation.

Anita made an effort to put the worry about her brother away as the darkness closed around her in a moist fist. She took the thermal imaging binoculars from her backpack and tried to find a more comfortable position on the small mat. But no matter how she settled her slender frame, the rock fragments seemed to find her. The whine of mosquitoes sounded constantly in her ears.

Focus on the job, Anita. Do what you’ve waited years to do. She was a hundred yards away from the most exciting moment of her career. Buried deep in this forest in the Seychelles Islands was something she had been hoping to see for a decade.

In spite of the excitement, the worry about her brother crept back. They always connected somehow on July 15, the anniversary of the accident that took their parents’ lives. Even if they were half a world apart, Drew managed an e-mail or a quick text message. It was a pact they’d made and kept faithfully.

Until now.

She mentally calculated the date in the States again. No, she hadn’t made a mistake. It was now July 17, and still no word from her brother. She took a deep breath to release the knots in her stomach as she eyed the sun, sinking slowly into the Indian Ocean in a swirl of vibrant crimson. Pay attention, Anita. Another fifteen minutes, maybe, and they’ll be here.

The tiny island was bisected by a ridge of mountain. The upper region where she was camped was forested and rugged, which saved it from the ravages of residential and agricultural use. Palms rustled in the cool ocean breeze.

Anita swatted at a mosquito that buzzed her ear. She pulled up her long, kinky brown hair and applied another squirt of bug repellent to her neck. Her job still felt surreal to her. She relished the chance to be in a corner of the world that few people saw, to have an opportunity to document one of the ten most endangered species in the world, a species that might be brought back from the brink of extinction with her help.

The sun disappeared and the sky changed to a soft gray. Anita readied her binoculars and trained them on the mouth of the cave. When the animals were dormant yesterday, she’d quietly hacked away the kudzu vine that threatened to choke access to the cave. Her hands still ached from the effort.

After a few more moments of silence, there came a sound like the rush of an angry stream. Anita had just enough time to ready the video camera as the sheath-tailed bats surged out of the cave mouth. They rose as a large, black shadow against the sky, chittering as they flew out in search of insects. She craned her head to watch their progress, counting as quickly as she could.

Then the cloud vanished as the bats disappeared into the night.

Anita leaned back on her mat, her skin still prickled in goose bumps. Unbelievably, the precious bats were alive and healthy here, and she felt more determined than ever to see that this tiny colony survived in the face of a world that seemed equally determined to stamp them out.

She covered her mouth with a mask to filter out the ammonia gases that enveloped the bats’ home, and stole into the cave to collect guano samples and photograph the roost. Her fingers shook as she worked. There would be no way to undo the damage if the bats returned and were spooked by a human presence. The cave was damp and still. Piles of droppings collected in heaps upon the floor. It took her no more than ten minutes before she hurried out again, panting and damp with sweat.

She settled down on her mat to wait for the bats’ return, readying an infrared camera this time. The piece of equipment brought Drew to her mind in a sudden rush of worry. He would laugh his head off to see Anita taking pictures. He always said people should give her the camera only if they wanted a close-up of her thumbs. She checked her PDA again, but there was still nothing from him.

Maybe he couldn’t get a message through to her remote location. Her comfort was fleeting. She’d been able to call his Arizona apartment several times, and he hadn’t answered. None of her e-mails had gotten a response, either.

Anita’s mind traveled back to the hot, arid desert, where her brother was a photographer for the prestigious Wild World Magazine. Someone else surfaced in her thoughts: a big man with vibrant blue eyes and a strong chin. She tried to shake his handsome face from her mind.

Forget it, Anita. You did what you had to do. Booker will see that someday.

Deep down she knew she was fooling herself. He’d never forgive her, though she was certain she’d done the right thing when Wild World’s owner, Cyrus Leeman, pointed her to the colony of endangered bats on Booker’s property. He couldn’t be allowed to put them at risk, and she’d made sure he didn’t have the chance.

But why did she feel so bad about the look of betrayal on his face when he’d found out?

Had her face borne the same expression when Jack, the love of her life, had cracked her world apart? She took a deep breath. Her actions had nothing to do with love, she reminded herself sternly. Her feelings for Booker had been a mistake, and relationships sometimes had to be sacrificed for the greater good. They’d dated for months, spent every free moment together until that wonderful, awful moment he’d told her he loved her. It still made her breath catch to recall it.

Buried in thought, she lost track of time. She was relieved when an hour or so later, the whoosh of wings announced the return of the bat colony. Her fingers took over, taking pictures, swiveling the camera from side to side until the swell of the winged tide was over. She packed up her gear and headed down the gravel path toward camp when her satellite phone vibrated. Frowning, she looked at the screen. The number was familiar, starting her heart into a quick staccato. “Drew?”

The voice on the other end was faint, raspy. “Ani.”

There was only one person who would dare call her Ani. She pressed the phone closer to her ear and listened to her brother’s irregular gasps. “What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.”

There was a delay before he answered. “Need your help.”

She felt a stir of fear as she struggled to hear him through the bad connection. Drew didn’t need help for anything. He was ever the bullheaded, larger-than-life brother who shot first and aimed later. “Tell me.”

His voice faded in and out. “…trouble.”

She felt a stab of alarm. “I can’t hear you. Tell me again. Where are you?”

“Please…gotten myself in too deep this time.”

Her throat constricted. “What happened? Are you still in Arizona?”

“Yeah, I’ve been…” Dead space swallowed up his words. “You’ve gotta help me, Ani.”

“I can’t hear you. It’s a bad connection. Are you hurt? Do you need the police?”

Drew managed one more word before the phone clicked off.

Anita stood stock-still, her body taut. Frantically she redialed Drew’s number and got an “out of service” message for her trouble. If his words hadn’t scared her enough, the desperate tone of his voice had. He needed her help to escape from something, something deadly.

She had to go; she had to find him.

His final word tumbled over and over in her ears.

Murder.

The harsh Arizona sunlight beat down on Booker Scott as he wrenched the barbed wire back into place. Second time this week it’d been cut. He knew exactly who was responsible, and he knew they’d be back, with more help and more firepower. They were checking things out, seeing if his property offered the necessary amenities. Ace reached a paw up to scratch under his collar, his sturdy German shepherd body parked in the shade of the pickup.

“They’re getting bolder, Ace.” He wondered if they were watching him at that moment from some concealed spot in the rugged side of the distant gorge. But even more menacing than the trespassers on his property were the bankers, looking for their pound of flesh. He’d take guns over bankers any day.

He fought against the desperate feeling that rose in his gut. It’s still my land for a while longer. His eyes followed the sun-parched ground, speckled with boulders bearing resurrection moss, until it folded into the steep gorge on the western periphery of the property. The black mouth of Mesquite Cave was almost invisible, tucked into the shadow of the massive rock that overshadowed it.

It was all there, the key to saving his ranch and his father. Right there, but locked away from him as surely as if it was chained in a steel vault somewhere. Thanks to Cyrus Leeman and his beautiful helper, Anita Teel. He allowed his mind to picture her for only a moment. Long hair, brown eyes, determined chin, full lips that left an indelible imprint on his.

“Trabajo?”

He whirled around to face the small man with the battered straw hat. He knew the guy’s name was Diego.

“Trabajo?” Diego repeated, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Work? Booker almost laughed. How could he possibly pay to have someone else work his property when he could hardly afford to keep it going now? “No, man. Sorry.”

Diego nodded and turned to shuffle off.

Booker stopped him. “Here.” He tossed Diego a cold water bottle from the small cooler he’d brought along.

The man caught the bottle and tipped his hat. “Gracias.”

Booker nodded back, threw his toolbox in the back of the pickup and fired the engine to life. Ace jumped into the back, and they headed into town.

He didn’t expect to see Cyrus Leeman chatting with the Border Patrol agent Tony Rogelio in front of the bank as he eased his truck to the curb. Rogelio gave him a nod and drove away in his own vehicle. Once again, Booker wondered if the agent was a man to be trusted. He tamped down the worry and started across the sun-baked sidewalk.

Ace dutifully followed Booker out of the truck and stood in a shaded spot.

Leeman cocked his head in between sips of water from a bottle. “Mr. Scott.”

Booker wondered why the wiry man didn’t ever seem to sweat, not even on the bald spot that gleamed in the sunlight. He nodded and continued past until Leeman stopped him.

“How are things going on the ranch? Heard you sold off some of your stock and two horses.”

Booker turned to face him. “Not your business.”

Leeman smiled, showing perfectly straight teeth. “Just being neighborly.”

“Neighborly?” Booker felt his self-control snap. “You want my property and you’ll do whatever it takes to get it. Don’t need neighbors like that.” The dog picked up on the tension in his owner’s voice. He straightened, ears stiff and body tense.

Leeman shot the animal a wary look and capped the water bottle. “Is your dog friendly?”

“Most of the time, but he’s a real good judge of character.”

Ace kept intense eyes trained on Leeman.

He shrugged. “Now really, Scott. You are paranoid. Why would I want that useless piece of land? There’s no easy water access. Can’t even mine on it, anyway.”

Booker clenched his fists to keep from punching Leeman in the gut. “You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Environmental protection isn’t my main concern. That was your girlfriend’s bailiwick.”

“Not my girlfriend and again, not your business.” He’d thought she was his girlfriend, but he’d been wrong, so wrong.

“How are those bats, anyway? Keeping a good watch over your opal mine?”

Booker straightened his baseball cap, buying a moment to steady himself. “You work hard to be that obnoxious or does it come natural?”

Leeman laughed. “Miss Teel’s article about your bats was well-received. I believe her research team was given a handsome grant.” He looked casually away for a moment. “She’s coming to town, you know.”

He struggled to take it in. Anita was coming back? The anger and bitter disappointment flared as intensely as it had four months earlier, when he discovered who she really was. He kept his face controlled in spite of the feelings that coursed through him like a swiftly moving stream. With every ounce of remaining control, Booker turned away from Leeman.

“Stay, Ace,” he told the dog, and pushed through the bank doors.

Leeman was goading him. Anita had no reason to come back to Rockridge. She’d done her work, saved the world and left his heart in the dirt.

He shot a look back at Leeman, who still had the remnants of a smile on his face as he backed away from the dog. Anita wouldn’t come back. His heart seemed to have developed an unsteady rhythm.

Would she?

The oppressive desert heat pressed down on Anita as she neared Rockridge in the battle-scarred Dodge she’d rented. It seemed hostile already, this place that hid her brother somewhere, in some sizzling corner. From the airport, she’d placed one frantic phone call to Wild World Magazine. The secretary confirmed Drew hadn’t been heard from in several days. The second phone call went to the police. Their professional coolness infuriated her as it had when she’d called the first time from the Seychelles. This was her brother they referred to with such detachment. She made arrangements to meet with them as soon as she arrived.

The road reflected the summer heat back at her in angry waves. The Dodge seemed to feel it too: the engine rattled and coughed, causing her to slow to a crawl several times.

Her stomach finally convinced her to pull into a dust-covered diner. She ordered a sandwich to go and waited while they prepared it. As she collected the bag and paid, she noticed a truck pull up by the side of her rental. The driver, whose face was concealed by sunglasses and a baseball cap, peered in the side window.

Anita held her breath and watched him from the restaurant. Why was he so interested in a dented old Dodge? She stood frozen with indecision. Should she go ask the stranger what he was after? Drew’s terrified words came back to her. Her brother was involved in something bad, and for some reason he hadn’t shared any info with the police. Was this nosy stranger linked to his disappearance? Or was she sinking into paranoia? There was only one way to find out. Anita took a deep breath and pushed through the door.

The person in the truck turned a quick look in her direction and immediately drove off.

She tried to shake off the fear. You’re a stranger in a small town, Anita, she told herself. You’re a curiosity, like a new animal at the zoo.

But not a complete stranger, she reminded herself. There were at least a handful of people who remembered her last visit, and it was possible that some of them would just as soon not see her roll into their town again. Especially a certain rugged rancher.

She checked the rearview mirror as she pulled out onto the highway.

The intense sunlight made the passing landscape luminous, sprinkled only sparsely with vegetation. It brought her back to the spring study she’d done here, tracking the lesser long-nosed bats on their travels through the nectar corridor, the thousand-mile path of cactus and agave plants that stretched from Mexico to Arizona.

It never ceased to amaze her how God caused the plants to bloom in sequence from south to north, providing an enticing path for the bats and a winged platoon of pollinators. Back then the desert had seemed like some sort of Elysian field, made even sweeter because of her own attraction to Booker. Now, with her brother lost in the wide panorama and Booker out of her life for good, the air vibrated with a vague sense of threat. She’d tried calling Drew’s apartment several more times with no result.

By the time she made it to the Rockridge Police Department it was late afternoon and her clothes were wrinkled and sweaty. Stealing a look in the cracked rearview mirror, she decided she looked more like a high school kid than a confident adult. She pulled her uncooperative kinks into a knot at the back of her head and applied some lipstick. There was nothing she could do about the smudge of fatigue under her brown eyes.

Her efforts yielded a slight improvement. She was a world-class researcher, a woman of science, and the police would take her seriously if it killed her.

I’ll make them.

Sergeant Williams sat in a chair and dutifully typed out Anita’s comments. The miniscule squad room was dank, the air conditioner unable to keep up with the relentless heat from the bank of windows that looked out on a series of warehouses. “What did he say when he called?”

“Like I told you on the phone, he said something about trouble and murder. The magazine he works for told me he hasn’t been there in four days. There’s no answer at his apartment, and the super says he hasn’t been there, either.”

Williams lifted a heavy eyebrow. She rubbed a finger along her chin, glossy and black as the cold mug of coffee that sat at her elbow. “I called her, too. She says his rent is due. Not the first time he’s been late paying it.”

Anita stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just an observation. Perhaps the situation isn’t as dire as it appears. He’s disappeared before, around the time the rent was due. I spoke to the magazine, as well, to…” She consulted a notepad. “To the owner, a guy named Cyrus Leeman. He says your brother is a bit on the unreliable side. This is not the first time he’s been a no-show at work.”

This surprised her. Leeman didn’t say a word against Drew the last time they’d met. Anita felt a fire building in her chest. “My brother is in trouble, Sergeant. He was terrified when he called me. I don’t care what his past history is.”

“We’ve got to take past history into account when a missing persons report is filed, Ms. Teel. It doesn’t mean we won’t look for your brother.”

She slammed her purse on the desk. “Listen, I flew here straight from the Seychelles Islands.”

The officer folded her arms. “Long trip.”

“Yes.” Her tone was icy. “I interrupted critical research to come and find my brother. Do you think I would have done that if I didn’t fear for his life? My work is very important.” As soon as she said it, the arrogant tone of her own words struck her, but she was too caught up in the anger to give it much heed.

Williams leaned forward, her tone level, eyes burning. “Thank you for filling me in on your status. You see this folder here?” She stabbed a thick finger at the bulging manila sleeve. “This here folder is filled with important people just like you, who need this tiny police department to help them. Your request will be added to theirs. You will be given the same attention and services that they will receive. We do our absolute best for anyone, no matter how important they are, or aren’t.”

Anita clamped her mouth together, trying to figure out how to undo the damage.

Williams handed her a card. “I will continue to check into it. Here is my card and the number for the Department of Homeland Security. They manage the Border Patrol office in Westview, that’s the next town over.”

“Border Patrol? I thought this would be a police matter. Missing persons.”

“Leeman says your brother was photographing some rock formations south of here. Rockridge is twenty miles from the Mexican border, Ms. Teel. I don’t need to tell you what kind of trouble that causes. This is a dangerous town.” She patted her hands on the folder. “Very dangerous.”

Anita blinked as she left the relative cool of the police station and headed back to the car. Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles. Drew was missing, and the police weren’t convinced it was foul play. She had to admit with his erratic behavior at work and skipped rent payments, his character wasn’t exactly unimpeachable. He’d managed to keep her away from his apartment and his office during her last visit.

And I didn’t do much to further his cause. She mentally kicked herself for her attitude.

Figuring the best course of action was to talk to Leeman and then head to Drew’s apartment, she wrenched open the car door, ducking away from the blast of heat. As she bent to slide behind the wheel, her gaze fastened on the deflated tire. Then on the other. She ran around and checked the other side. Four tires, completely flattened, the jagged holes showing where they’d been punctured.

She got out and slammed the car door so hard the windows rattled. Who would vandalize her car right in front of the police station? Her mind flew to the stranger in the truck. But that was ridiculous. She’d only just rolled into town. Was it an enemy she’d made on her last visit to Rockridge?

What was she going to do now? She thought about going back in to report it to the police, but she didn’t want to have another encounter with Sergeant Williams. She fished around in her purse for the number of the rental car company and dialed.

We are unavailable at this time. Please leave a message and we will get back to you as soon as possible.

She clicked the phone shut. Drew was out there, possibly dying, and she needed a car. Her breath grew short and a panic started to twist through her stomach. Drew. She had to find him before it was too late.

He was all she had left.

A movement on the sidewalk startled her. She looked up.

The detail that caught her attention first was his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had lingered in her mind since she’d fled this rugged state. They were the same eyes she remembered, vivid, determined. Angry.

His chin was stubbled, his thatch of short, dark hair tousled. The casual demeanor did not jibe with the expression on his face. His lips were closed in a tight line as he tapped his baseball cap against his muscular thigh.

Her mouth went dry. “Booker.”

TWO

Booker shoved his hands into his pockets and forced his voice into as pleasant a tone as he could manage. “Hello, Anita. Did they find Drew?”

She gaped at him. “How did you…?” Her attention was diverted by the big dog that trotted over and inclined his head for a scratch.

“Heard it from a bank teller. Pays to know where the action is in this part of the world.” He saw the fatigue and worry on her face vanish behind a mask of self-control. Ace basked in her gentle touch. Clearly the dog didn’t have as good a sense of character as he’d thought.

Anita bent down to scratch Ace behind the ears. “Hi, boy. I’m glad to see you. Looks like you’re getting around pretty good.”

Booker shoved his hands in his pockets as the dog stared at her with devotion in his eyes.

The tenderness in Anita’s voice disappeared as she straightened. “They haven’t found Drew. I’m not sure they’re devoting enough manpower to his case.”

“I’m sure you told them so.” He didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.

She opened her mouth to answer and stopped, as if she couldn’t find any words that would work.

She was never short on words, he thought, and the look of uncertainty on her face nagged at him. He let the silence linger for a while. “I hope they find him. He’s a good guy.”

“I didn’t know you two were friends.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “He took some pictures in my mine tunnels at your request, remember? I showed him around some spots on my neighbor’s ranch, too. We talked for a bit while he was doing the shoot.” She remembered all too well; he saw it by the tightening of her mouth, the self-righteous set to her chin. She’d used the pictures as part of her bid to persuade the town council to deny him the right to work the mine on his property. What had Leeman given her in exchange? A feature in his magazine? A nice donation toward her research? It still stung, but what hurt more was the way she’d trampled his heart in the process, as if he had meant no more to her than a stranger. Had he actually told her he loved her? It seemed unreal now. And had she stood there dumbstruck and then turned away without a word? He’d convinced himself they could have something special, but he’d learned the hard way it had all been gut-wrenchingly one-sided. Dumb cowboy, dumb mistake.

Anita cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, I’m going to search until I find him, police or no police. I was headed over to the magazine, but I hit a snag.” She gestured to the car. “Someone flattened my tires.”

He wondered how she’d managed to make an enemy already. Whoever it was had left him to wrestle with an uncomfortable decision. Should he walk away, let her beg a ride from someone else, abandon her like she’d done to him? Something about the lift of her chin and the tiny tremble in her full lips tugged at his heart. There was a carefully controlled desperation in her that called to something deep inside him.

Deal with it, Booker. You don’t have a choice and you know it. He couldn’t leave a lady stranded, even if it was the last lady he’d ever want to see again. “I can give you a lift over there, if you want.”

Her face pinked, eyes flicking up and down the dusty street as she considered. “Um, well, thank you. It’s awfully nice of you to do that for me.”

He pulled his keys from the pocket of his faded jeans. “It’s not for you. It’s for your brother.”

She grabbed her purse and followed him to a battered Ford pickup. Ace followed right behind, tail wagging.

Booker stepped ahead of her to wrench open the passenger’s door and felt a flush infuse his face as his shoulder brushed hers. “Got hit. Door sticks.”

She climbed up onto the cracked leather seat while he fired up the engine. He could smell her enticing fragrance, a faint whiff of vanilla that made his head swim. How did she manage to smell so nice in the desert heat? He concentrated on cranking up the air conditioner. Drive, Booker. Get the job done and get this lady out of your life.

As they pulled onto the road, she examined the neat, hay-scented interior and the plastic bin on the floor filled with maps. “Are you planning a trip?”

He didn’t divert his gaze from the front window. “Something like that.”

They drove the five miles in silence toward the last place on earth Booker wanted to be.

The buildings along the main street were old, wood-sided structures. The tallest was the post office, covered in a cracking layer of off-white paint. A small church advertised a summer camp, and a few children splashed in a wading pool under the shade of a gangly mesquite tree. Booker waved at a man unloading sacks of grain at Pete’s Feed and Supply.

The magazine headquarters was one of the more modern buildings in the town, with a neatly kept cluster of yucca shrubs in the front. Booker turned off the engine and shot Anita a look. He’d given her a ride. That was enough for one day, wasn’t it? “I’ll wait here.”

She hesitated. “Oh, would you come in with me? Just for a minute? I figure the more people who look concerned about my brother’s disappearance the better.”

With a sigh, he acquiesced. Ace hunkered down in the shade of a scrubby bush to wait for their return.

A blast of cool air greeted them as they checked in with a harried secretary who ushered them into an office that smelled of stale coffee and cigarettes. Booker squirmed in the chair, trying to figure a way out. A tall, lanky man with glasses and a head of curly brown hair came in. He was followed by Leeman, dressed in pleated trousers.

The curly-haired man smiled and shook their hands. “Hello. I’m Paul Gershwin, Drew’s editor. I don’t think we met last time you were here. I was on assignment in Europe. You know Cyrus Leeman, I understand.”

Leeman nodded at them, smiled at Anita and grasped her hand as he slid into a chair. “Lovely to see you again.”

Gershwin extended a hand to Booker. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Anita spoke up. “This is Booker Scott, he’s a…friend. Of Drew’s. We’re both concerned about my brother.”

He nodded. “Me, too. Drew’s kind of eccentric. It’s not unusual for him to take off for a few days, but I’m worried about that phone call you described to me.”

Anita leaned forward. “What was he working on?”

Gershwin opened his mouth to answer when Leeman cut him off. “Who knows? Your brother had a tendency to go off on tangents, if you’ll excuse me for saying so. He was likely to stumble on topics that interested him more than what we were paying him handsomely to shoot.”

She frowned, surprised at the angry tone from a man who she knew to be completely charming and self-possessed. “What are you getting at, Mr. Leeman?”

“I’m just telling you your brother is not good at following rules. He has been problematic since he came here six months ago.”

Anita stared at the editor. “Is that what you think, too, Mr. Gershwin?”

Gershwin took off his glasses and polished them on his wrinkled shirt. “He came through when it counted. Never missed a deadline. That’s all that matters to an editor.”

“Have you heard from him at all?”

Gershwin shook his head. “No. I was hoping you would say you’d talked to him again.”

“Only that one quick call, but it was a bad connection so I couldn’t understand what he was getting at. Please tell me where you think he was shooting. At least that’s a place to start.”

The editor handed her a photocopied map and pointed. “Somewhere around here. He was supposed to get us some shots about wind erosion. He said something about photographing a place southwest of here called the Painted Cliffs.”

Booker glanced at the map with a frown. “That’s no-man’s-land. Did he go alone?”

Leeman cleared his throat. “We have no idea. He never bothered to keep us apprised of his actions. We’ll certainly let you know if we hear from him. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some layouts to look at.”

Anita stood. “Mr. Leeman, you don’t seem to have much regard for my brother. It’s almost as if you’re glad he’s gone. When I was here in the spring, you never once mentioned problems with Drew.”

“That would have been a betrayal of privacy, I believe, and, anyway, during your last visit we were concerned with saving an endangered colony of bats, as I recall.” He shot Booker a look of triumph before he gave Anita an apologetic nod. “To be perfectly honest, Ms. Teel, your brother didn’t fit in well here at Wild World. As a matter of fact, I intended to let him go after the erosion piece was done.”

Booker heard her inhale sharply. He couldn’t squash a surge of satisfaction. About time she saw Leeman’s dark side.

“And did my brother know that? That you were going to fire him?”

Leeman gave her a polite smile. “I have no idea. I’m sorry, I must get to another meeting. Trust me that we will provide the police with whatever help they require to find your brother.”

Booker trailed Anita out to the truck. She looked as if she didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Even Ace’s enthusiastic lick didn’t bring a smile to her face.

She shook her head. “They act like they’re happy he’s gone.”

“Leeman did, anyway.”

“He seemed like a different person than the man I worked with before.”

“Maybe you were too focused on your crusade to get a clear picture of him.”

Anita jerked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He clamped his jaw together. A fight would only complicate things, distract them from getting the problem solved and her out of his life. He took a deep breath and stared out the window while the engine idled. “Nothing. I think we’d better go check out your brother’s apartment right now.”

Her eyes widened. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He swiveled his gaze to her face. “We need to figure out if Drew really did go to The Painted Cliffs.”

“Where is it, anyway? You said it was no-man’s-land.”

“It’s a place the drug runners use to ferry their stuff over the border.”

She gasped. “Drug runners?”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled out onto the main road. “If he’s there, he really is in trouble.”

Booker squelched an odd sense of foreboding as they made it to Drew’s apartment building on the edge of town. The setting sun was reduced to a few amber-colored rays, which painted the whole complex—a long strip of fifteen units strung together—in an eerie glow. Each unit featured a metal front door and the same striped awning over the dust-covered windows.

Booker followed her into the super’s office, the uneasy feeling growing with every minute. The tiny, birdlike woman was reluctant to hand over the key at first. “The guy’s a deadbeat. Hasn’t paid this month’s rent. I ought to hand the matter over to the police.”

“If we find Drew, you can collect that rent he owes you,” Booker reminded her.

Finally the lady gave in and handed over the key, promising to check in on them after her soap opera was finished. Anita grabbed it and hurried ahead of him to Drew’s door.

As it swung open, she gasped and stumbled backward against his chest. He squeezed her protectively for a moment, feeling her tremble as she regained her balance. Catching a glimpse of the apartment over her shoulder, he gently placed her behind him and entered. “Stay here,” he commanded.

Keeping as quiet as he could, he did a careful walk through the mess, checking every closet as he did so. He found her in the front room when he returned.

Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with fear and unshed tears. “What happened here?”

The small apartment had been completely ransacked. It had only two rooms; one featured a futon and a small worktable, and had an adjoining bathroom. The other was the kitchen. The entire place had been tossed and dumped. All the drawers were opened and upended on the floor. The furniture was overturned, and bits of splintered wood showed where the rickety frames had given out. Even the canisters of sugar and flour in the kitchen were emptied all over the linoleum.

There was no sign of Drew’s laptop or camera equipment, Booker noted as he quickly dialed the police and filled them in. An old Sports Illustrated cover served as a wall decoration: Michael Jordan smiling down on the room. Even that had been torn away from the wall at one corner. Somebody had been very thorough.

Anita prowled the small space, taking a sweatshirt from its spot over the back of the wooden chair and pressing it to her face. Tears glinted in her eyes.

Booker stopped dead, feeling his heart squeeze at the stricken look on her face. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her, and the other part, the other part wanted to run. He settled for putting a hand gently on her arm. “You all right?”

She dashed the tears from her cheeks and turned away from him. “Yes, yes, of course I am. Are the police on their way?”

He nodded. “They’ll be along when they can.” He held up a box of granola bars, empty except for one, and a lone water bottle. “I found these in the kitchen. If I had to guess, I’d say he packed up some supplies before he left. There’s a can of peanuts on the table, too, sort of like he couldn’t fit it into his pack.” He hesitated. “Any chance he went out for some recreation, target practice, maybe?”

“No. Drew hates guns. He could never bear to shoot my father’s pistol, even.” She sank down onto the futon. “What does it mean? Who would want to trash his place? Do you think he ran into trouble from the drug runners?”

“Doesn’t help to jump to conclusions. Let’s leave here before we disturb any more evidence, and then we’ll come up with a plan for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I want to go look for him tonight. He might be hurt, or worse.”

“No.”

“No? Why not? I know you’re mad at me, but don’t take it out on my brother.”

“I’m not doing anything of the kind, Anita. Just listen for once.” Booker held up a hand and kept his voice level, meeting those intense brown eyes full-on. “We can’t go there at night, not without some prior planning. It’s just too dangerous, and Drew wouldn’t want you doing a fool thing like that.”

She looked down at her tightly clasped hands and he wondered if she was going to listen to reason.

“I guess you’re right,” she said finally. “I’ll rent another car in the morning and go then.”

“Never mind that. I’ll take you.” He was surprised that the words spilled so readily from his mouth.

She blinked. “Why would you do that?”

Yeah, why would you do that, Booker? He gritted his teeth. Because I’m completely insane, he wanted to tell her. Out of my mind to get involved with you again, when the smallest memory of you still makes me crazy. He understood the anger she kindled inside him, the hurt. What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was the strong need that rose in his gut, the need to protect her, in spite of everything.

He cleared his throat and pointed to a small cardboard box next to the television. “Because your brother also packed those.”

Anita read the printing on the box aloud.

“Techshot Pistol Cartridges. Low Recoil.”

THREE

The nicest hotel in Rockridge happened to be the only one in that small town. Anita tried to ignore the feelings of déjà vu that plagued her as she checked in. The room was clean, painted in soothing shades of green, and the bed was relatively comfortable. Nonetheless, Anita slept only in fits and starts, waking several times fighting off a feeling of terror. The question kept burning at her. What was Drew doing with a gun? Where had he gone, and why hadn’t he called her again? Who destroyed his apartment?

The possible answers terrified her even more than her questions. The only island of comfort was Booker, and that scared her, too. She finally dragged herself out of bed after sunup and into a hot shower before calling the rental car company. There was no way she would allow Booker to become her personal taxi service. She’d told him so in no uncertain terms. She couldn’t get close to him again. She wouldn’t allow herself to.

She sat staring at the phone. While she lingered in a cozy hotel room waiting for the rental car company to get her a replacement, what was happening to her brother? Fear drove her to the window. The sky was an iron gray, layered thick with angry clouds.

The helplessness of her situation swelled inside her until she thought she would burst. She settled for throwing her shoes at the door. They cracked into the metal with a satisfying thwack.

A soft knock followed the thwack. “Great. Now I’ve got the neighbors mad at me.”

She opened the door to find a startled Booker on the other side. He wore his customary worn jeans and T-shirt with a Windbreaker thrown over it. A Cardinals baseball cap caught the first few drops of rain.

He looked uneasy. “Something hit the door.”

She forced a calm tone. “It was nothing. The rental car company is bringing me a car sometime later today. Like I told you before, you don’t need to take me anywhere.”

He leaned his weight on one hip, crossed arms accentuating his wide chest. “Figured I’d give you my cell number in case anything came up.” Without meeting her eyes, he handed her a crumpled piece of paper. His calloused fingers touched her hand, and she felt the strength of hard work and long days.

When he looked away at the clouds that massed on the horizon, she sneaked a glance at his profile. His face was tanned as ever, chin square, hair unruly where it curled out from under his cap, just as she remembered. There was a subtle difference, she noticed; deep shadows under his eyes and an unfamiliar haggard look.

A tender feeling stole over her. Don’t get sappy, she reminded herself. You did that before, and it almost distracted you from your duty.

Booker had needed to realize that mining brought nothing but hardship, especially for the delicate creatures on his ranch. She felt a sliver of guilt that she’d hurt him in the process. With a jolt, she realized she’d been staring.

He cleared his throat. “Not my place, but don’t go looking for Drew on your own.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a helpless female.”

His smile was bitter. “Oh, I know that all too well.”

She forced her chin up. “Thanks for your concern, but it isn’t necessary.”

He looked at her, eyes searching hers as though he was looking for something he had left.

She tried to think of something, anything, to say, but Booker turned away, mumbled a goodbye and took off in his truck.

She watched him go. A strange thought danced in her mind. If he wasn’t so stubborn, would things have turned out differently between them?

No, Anita. You two are incompatible species. You walked away at just the right time, for once, like you should have done with Jack. If only she’d had the strength to walk away from him, maybe her confidence wouldn’t be so trampled. She closed the door and headed back to the phone, redialing the number Sergeant Williams had given her for the local Department of Homeland Security, aka the Border Patrol.

Yes, they were still aware of her brother’s situation, including the break-in. Someone would call her.

Later.

Though the wall of clouds was intensifying, Anita felt if she didn’t move, her body would simply explode. She pulled on the only jacket she brought—a thin, purple nylon affair that could roll up small enough to fit in a pocket—and made sure to take her satellite phone.

The air held a tinge of humidity, the clouds seeming to press on her with a great weight. There was nothing close to the hotel, nothing but a tiny gas station with a mini-mart attached. Sucking in a determined breath, she headed through the buffeting wind.

The whisper-thin man behind the mini-mart counter shot her a curious look. His tufts of white hair gave him a clownish air. “Morning. Help you with something?”

“I’m just here for a few supplies.” Scurrying down the nearest aisle, she gathered a handful of sundries: bottled water, trail mix, a couple of apples and a box of Oreos. If she was going to be on the verge of panic for a while, the Oreos would definitely help. She lugged the supplies to the counter and pulled out her wallet.

On impulse, she showed the clerk the picture of Drew. “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him?”

He slid on a pair of bifocals and peered at the picture. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry to say I haven’t.”

Her heart fell. “It was a long shot. Thanks, anyway.”

He added a folding umbrella to her pile with a wink. “I think maybe you’re gonna need this. On the house.”

She thanked him and turned to go when her eyes fell on a stack of leaflets. Booker’s smiling face was printed on the top, under the words Living Desert Tours. She shoved one into her pocket and stepped into the swirling wind, her thoughts whirling around just as erratically. Opening the umbrella and avoiding the water that had puddled on the pavement, she jogged back to her hotel room.

Her upper torso was the only part that escaped being drenched. She peeled off the wet clothes, pulled on a robe and spread the paper out on a cracked table, worn and ringed by countless cups of coffee.

Looking to experience the desert in a whole new way? Call Booker Scott at Living Desert Tours. Half-day and full-day trips. Lunch included.

She read the paper twice more. Why was Booker hawking desert tours? He was a cattle rancher with his hand in the opal-mining business. How much time did the man have? And more important, why did thoughts of Booker seem to fill up her mind at every opportunity? She crumpled the paper and threw it in the garbage.

A half hour later, after a lunch of trail mix and cookies, Anita’s nerves threatened to burn right through her skin. The police had no updated information on her brother’s whereabouts.

“We’re pulling in volunteer deputies to help with the search, Ms. Teel. An officer is taking prints and pictures at your brother’s apartment. We’ll call you if we find anything at all.”

She hung up and watched the hands of the clock creep inch by painful inch. The piece of paper Booker had given her materialized in her fingers. “I can’t call him.” The very idea made her cringe. After their troubled past, how could she ask him for help? She had no right.

The thought of being in the truck with him again sent an odd shiver down her spine. It was not an altogether unpleasant sensation.

She shook the thought away and grabbed the phone. Her brother was counting on her. She could not, would not, let her pride get in the way.

He answered on the second ring, his voice low and husky. “Booker.”

“It’s Anita. Look, I’m really sorry to bother you but—”

“It’s fine.”

She took a deep breath. “I need to go to the cliffs, where Drew was headed.”

There was a long silence. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

Twenty minutes later, Booker suppressed a sigh as he jumped out of the truck and wrenched open the passenger side for Anita. Why was he dropping everything to run to her side? Because it was the right thing to do, to help a person in need, he told himself, like he’d done when Mrs. Whitley from church needed her cat dislodged from where it had gotten wedged behind the Sheetrock. So what if it was inconvenient and time-consuming? It was still the right thing to do. He risked a glance at her delicate profile. He’d never had these crazy feelings in his stomach while helping Mrs. Whitley, that was for sure.

Redirecting his thoughts to the foolhardy mission he’d undertaken, he eased the truck onto the main road and headed for the highway. Raindrops pattered the windshield. “Storm coming today. Not a great idea.”

“The rain has tapered off from this morning. I’m sure it will be all right. I want to get a sense of the place he was headed, that’s all.”

He shook his head. “Suit yourself.”

She twiddled with her jacket zipper. “How is your father?”

“Not great. He’s in one of those retirement villages. Wanted him to stay on the ranch, but he insisted he’d be a bother.”

“I’m sorry.”

He picked up on a warmth in her voice, remembering how her visits in the spring had cheered his father tremendously. He knew Pops would approve of his helping Anita, in spite of their history. His father would never let a woman down. He’d been there through his wife’s illness, unflinchingly devoted, even when her mind was gone and she didn’t know who any of them were. Pops was a true gentleman, Booker knew, the kind of man he could only hope to be someday. The resolve crystallized inside him. He would help her, he would find Anita’s brother because it was the godly thing to do, and then he would walk away. He tuned back into the present.

“I’ll say a prayer for him,” Anita said haltingly.

Booker nodded. “Preciate that.”

They lapsed into silence as the miles rolled by, flatland dotted with mesquite and jimsonweed. The sky had lightened to a silver hue, silhouetting the distant mountains in sharp relief. Since the rain eased off, he rolled the window down a fraction to breathe in the scent of newly washed earth.

Rounding a sharp turn, he slowed the truck.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Road dips into a canyon up ahead. With a good rain there’s the potential for flash flooding.”

“It’s not even raining that hard right now.”

He glanced at the sky. “It will.”

“Booker, we’ve got to keep going. My brother is out there somewhere.”

He ignored the desperation in her voice. “Impatience gets you dead in this place.”

“You’ve got to listen to me. I…” Her words dropped off as the rain began to sheet and then to pound with a fury. It slammed into the truck so hard it bounced off again like tiny glittering bullets. Anita cried out at a crash of thunder.

Booker shot her a brief glance. “Don’t worry. It’ll stop in a minute or two.”

The roar faded to a hum and then a trickle, the storm easing up as fast as it started.

Booker was ready to start the truck when he frowned into the rearview mirror.

An SUV pulled in behind them with Border Patrol emblazoned on the side. A stocky, dark-haired man got out and edged to the driver’s side of Booker’s truck.

“Mr. Scott, it’s Agent Rogelio. You’ve got Anita Teel with you?”

Booker called out the open window. “Yes, sir.”

The agent leaned his head in. “Paul Gershwin told me you might be coming up here looking for your brother.”

Booker and Anita got out and followed Rogelio away from the road, to the rust-colored shoulder.

“I got your message,” Rogelio continued. “I was going to call you this afternoon.”

“Any word on Drew?”

He shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. I met your brother a few times, poking around with his camera.”

Anita’s voice cracked. “Really? When did you see him last?”

“Couple weeks ago. Headed out the same way you are.” Rogelio folded his arms across his wide chest. “I’ve got to be honest with you. I told your brother that he was an idiot.”

Booker saw Anita jerk backward a fraction at his angry tone. “That’s no way to talk to the man’s sister.”

“No disrespect intended, but my job’s intense. I go around with a target painted on my back. That’s my choice. But I don’t appreciate having to spend time and energy rescuing thrill seekers who get themselves in too deep, especially when they’ve been warned repeatedly.”

Booker cocked his head. “Drew’s doing a job, not sightseeing, and, anyway, what’s done is done. The guy’s missing, and his sister is worried. Isn’t her fault.”

Rogelio’s tone softened. “I’m just telling you that Border Patrol will assist in any way we can, when we’re not busting illegals and ducking gunfire from drug cartels. I’m going to give you the same advice I gave him. Go home.” He jerked a thumb at the road ahead. “Leave the searching up to law enforcement so we don’t have to bail you out of trouble, too.”

Rogelio got back into his SUV, pulled a sharp U-turn and peeled away.

Booker helped Anita back into the truck, feeling a slight tremble in her hand. “Not the nicest cop I ever met.”

She blinked. “Why is it everyone seems to think Drew deserves to be in trouble?”

He heard the tremor in her voice. “Not everyone. Like I said before, Drew is a good guy. I’ll help you if you want to go look for him. Rogelio’s right about one thing, though. It’s not safe.”

She was silent for a moment, examining her hands twisted together in her lap, knuckles white from the pressure. “Why would you go with me?”

He exhaled, recognizing he had just crossed a line that he couldn’t turn back from until the job was done. “Because it’s the right thing to do and if it was my brother, I’d sure drive through a war zone to find him.”

She gave him a watery smile and they continued down the road.

Booker cleared his throat. “We’ll only be able to take a quick look before sundown. We can come back tomorrow. Early.”

Her face looked vulnerable, like a little girl’s. “Thank you. I feel as though…as though I don’t have the right to ask you for anything.”

“I offered.”

She gave him a puzzled look as the satellite phone in her pocket rang, startling them both.

“It’s Sergeant Williams,” she whispered, when she checked the screen.

Anita held the phone between them so Booker could hear. “Have you found him?”

There was a pause. “Ms. Teel, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

FOUR

Anita’s body went cold. Booker took the phone from her shaking fingers and spoke quietly to the police officer.

His voice was soft. “It’s…not far from here. About three miles, off the highway. I’ll take you there.”

She couldn’t answer. Her mind was locked in a nightmare that she’d experienced before when her parents were killed. The phone call, the strange limbo sprinkled throughout with comments from doctors, bits of information from the police.

Drunk driver.

Both killed on impact.

Death was instantaneous.

Instantaneous. How could something that happened in one insane moment change the life of Anita and her brother so profoundly? And now, she was facing the same horror. Her brother, her only family.

The sensation of moisture on her hand made her realize she was crying. Booker handed her a box of tissue. “Anita…”

His voice trailed off as she raised a hand and shook her head. The sympathy in his deep voice would make her crack open into a million jagged pieces. She had to keep it together now, for Drew. He deserved that much from her.

The heat shimmered off the wet road as they pulled up to the accident site after following a lonely, twisted path that seemed to leave civilization far behind. She recognized the spot. She’d done work in a cave several miles from here, home to a colony of Mexican long-tongued bats. She could almost hear their distinctive high-pitched chitters.

If she hadn’t been so terrified, the scenery would have charmed her as it had on her previous visit; a vivid blue sky bisected by ornately furrowed cliffs and dotted with clouds. One corner of her mind noticed a hawk floating in lazy circles above them.

Sergeant Williams alternately took pictures and talked into her radio. There was another officer there whom Anita didn’t know, and a fire-rescue vehicle. Somehow she got out of the truck and made her way toward Williams.

“Ms. Teel. I’m very sorry.”

“Just tell me. What did you find?”

The officer wiped the sweat from her brow and pointed. “Down there. His motorcycle.”

Anita walked several yards away to the edge of a steep canyon. A jagged break in the guardrail framed the view below. The twisted remnants of Drew’s motorcycle lay broken and smashed several hundred feet down. She could see the helmeted firefighters milling around, the yellow ropes they’d used to descend bright against the brown cliff side.

“Did you find…?” Her voice broke and she tried again. “Did you find my brother?”

Williams shook her head. “No, ma’am. He may have been thrown from the bike. They’re looking for him now.”

Her heart swelled. “Then he may be alive.” She looked from Booker to Williams and saw the doubt on their faces. “But you don’t think so?”

“It would be unlikely, ma’am. That was a violent impact, and as far as we can tell the bike’s been there for a while.”

Anita felt the hope slide out of her. Her breath grew short, and her head began spinning. Booker took her by the arm and led her to the shade cast by the fire engine. He dried the metal bumper with his jacket sleeve and helped her sit.

“Take it easy. I’ve got some cold water in the truck.” He jogged away to return with an icy bottle.

While she took a few sips, Booker walked closer to the accident site. She watched him studying it, the brim of his baseball cap casting a shadow on his face. He spoke for a moment with the police before he returned to her.

“What is it? What are you thinking?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s hear what the rescue crew has to say.”

She was glad when he eased his tall frame down next to her. The feel of him seemed to steady her.

A car pulled up.

Paul Gershwin eased his wiry frame from the seat and hurried over to them. “Oh, man. I heard the call on the radio. Is he…? Have they found him?”

Anita’s eyes filled. “Not yet. His bike is down there, at the bottom.”

Gershwin gave her arm a squeeze and went to talk with the police. When he returned, his face was a shade paler. “I’m not sure what to say, Ms. Teel.”

“Please call me Anita.”

He looked at his dusty shoes. “I can’t believe that’s how it would end for Drew.”

“It hasn’t ended.” The words shot out of her like arrows. “He could be alive. They haven’t found any evidence to the contrary.”

His eyes widened. “Of course, of course. He’s such a character, so quick on his feet. If anyone could survive this, he could. Did they find his gear?”

She shook her head, not daring to look at him closely.

“Then there’s hope, right?”

She nodded miserably.

“There’s always hope. Look, I’ve got to get back to the magazine. I’ll be there for a couple of hours. Here’s my cell phone.” He handed her a business card. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Paul patted her back and left.

Gershwin thought her brother was dead. So did the police and firefighters and probably Booker. The ruined motorcycle added evidence to support the conclusion.

She could not agree with them.

Drew was alive. She believed it with every fiber in her being.

She had to.

An hour later Booker watched as the firefighters cleared the scene. Anita sat in his truck, her chin determinedly high, fingers laced together. The irony made him sigh. She’d only been in Arizona a little more than twenty-four hours, and her life was inextricably twined with his once again. It was like some sort of strange magnetic force that pulled them close until something flipped and they repelled each other.

What flipped was her, he reminded himself. He recalled the tenderness they’d shared, the sweet vulnerability that made him fall for her, hard. He knew she’d loved him; he could see it in every touch, every gesture. Then it was gone. She’d come out all teeth and claws to ruin his chance to save his father’s ranch and any shot they’d had at a future. Remember that, Booker. Help her get through this and put her back on a plane.

When Agent Rogelio pulled up at the scene, Booker felt his stomach tighten. He waited, watching Rogelio discuss the details with the local cops before his gaze slid over to where Booker stood. He surveyed the scene in a leisurely manner before he spoke, out of earshot of Anita.

“Too bad it turned out this way.”

Booker kept his face impassive. “Isn’t over until they find the body.”

Rogelio pulled his hat down lower to shade his eyes. “You know what kind of place this is. One mistake, one chance, is all you get. The desert takes no prisoners.”

Booker could not read the man’s eyes behind the shaded glasses. Should he share his suspicions about Drew’s accident? A twist of doubt caused him to keep quiet about it.

Aren’t you out on a limb enough where Rogelio’s concerned? “I’m going to take Anita back to her hotel.”

Rogelio stopped him. “We’re investigating some things about Drew Teel. Things that aren’t looking too good for him. Might want to prepare your gal for some bad news.”

“She’s not my gal.”

Rogelio stared at Anita, a hungry smile creeping across his face. “Good to know I’ve got a shot, then. I like them feisty.”

Booker’s jaw tightened. Don’t even try it, man. He held himself frozen to the spot until Rogelio left.

Shaking off the comment, Booker spoke again to Sergeant Williams, who promised to keep them apprised and assured Anita that a search-and-rescue crew would remain at the sight for the next twelve hours.

“I don’t feel right about leaving,” Anita announced, as he got in the truck next to her.

“They’ll call if there’s anything. We’re in the way here.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, brown eyes fiery. “No. My brother is down there somewhere and I’m staying right here. I’ll go find someplace else to sit if you don’t want me in your truck.”

Uncertainty shot through him. “It’s not that.”

She picked up on it right away. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Not nothing. You don’t think they’re going to find him alive.” Tears began to spill down her face. “How can you believe that? He’s all I have. He’s the only person in the whole world who…” She kept her face turned to him, the agony written plainly there.

He grabbed her hand to stop the anguished flow of words. “That’s not what’s on my mind, Anita. I’ve got a strange feeling, is all, but I don’t want to mislead you.”

Her mouth opened in a shocked gasp. “What? What do you think? Please tell me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she squeezed his fingers. “Please.”

He picked his words carefully. “Something’s wrong. This road.” He pulled his hand away to gesture to the desolate stretch. “It doesn’t lead to town or to the Painted Cliffs. There’s really no reason for Drew to be here. The spot where the bike went over. It’s not a sharp turn, wouldn’t have been a problem for an experienced biker to manage.”

She nodded. “And?”

“And there’s nothing in his saddlebags. No provisions, work stuff, camera, anything. No backpack found at the scene.” His eyes scanned the horizon. “Williams says it looks like the gas tank was empty.”

“So you think maybe the accident was staged? That Drew isn’t dead?” Hope sparkled in her eyes.

“Listen. I’m no cop. Just a gut feeling. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Too late, they’re up,” she said, flinging her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “Please help me figure out what happened to my brother. I know I’m the last person in the world you want to be with, but I’m asking, anyway. Please.”

The pressure of her body pressed to his made his head swim.

You’re in it deep now, Booker.

Anita let go of Booker and hastily slid to the other side of the seat. Her cheeks burned, but she could not ignore the heady feeling of hope that had sprung up inside her. Drew might be alive. Alive. She pressed her hands together and breathed a silent prayer. Please, Lord. Please don’t take my brother from me.

She opened her eyes to find Booker watching her. “We need to go to the Painted Cliffs.”

Booker arched an eyebrow. “What will that accomplish?”

“I don’t know, but my brother was headed there, according to Gershwin. He might have left some kind of a clue to his whereabouts, maybe spoken to someone about his situation.”

“There’s no one there to speak to. The police should handle the search.”

She tried to keep the impatience from her voice. “They’re busy with the crash investigation. Besides, my brother didn’t involve the police in whatever problem he was having. He must have had a reason.” She looked closely at him. “Do you trust the police around here?”

“Williams is okay.”

“How about Rogelio?”

Booker shifted on the worn seat. “He’s tight with Cyrus Leeman. I don’t trust anyone who buddies up to that snake.”

She jerked. “I wasn’t anyone’s buddy, if that’s what you’re implying. Leeman came to me on an environmental issue that happened to impact your land. I did my job, and so did he.”

“Yeah? So you think he’s just a great guy out to save the earth, huh?”

The anger in his eyes made her falter. “We did the right thing.”

“Glad you can sleep easy at night.”

Sleep easy? She’d not had a peaceful night’s rest since she left Rockridge. Thoughts of Booker and the dangerous feelings he’d awakened in her had made that impossible. She’d done the right thing, but the cost had been high. She looked at his profile: strong, proud, lined with fatigue and worry. What had her decision cost him?

She pushed the feelings away and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to focus on the here and now. I need to figure out what happened to my brother. Will you take me? If not, I’ll find someone else.”

He gazed at the brilliant blue of the sky. “It’ll take an hour to drive out there. Won’t have much time. We’ve got to head back before sunset.”

“What happens after sunset?”

He didn’t look at her as he pulled onto the road. “Desert comes alive.”

FIVE

Anita tried not to dwell on Booker’s ominous warning as they headed farther away from civilization. She was a wildlife scientist, after all. Nothing in this desert would send her screaming for help. She busied herself checking her phone for any kind of message from her brother. Who would be after him? His salary was good, she imagined, but knowing her brother he hadn’t socked away enough fortune to tempt anyone. At times he didn’t even make the rent payments. He must have heard something, seen something. Maybe he photographed something he shouldn’t have?

She wished she had someone to discuss her wild theories with, but Booker remained silent. It was just as well. They should avoid anything that would rekindle old feelings. Remember Jack and what could have happened. Drinking, partying, making stupid choices that would have ruined your life if God hadn’t saved you. Don’t put yourself there again.

A massive saguaro cactus thrust prickled branches into the late-afternoon sunlight. In the spring, it had been crowned with showy yellow blossoms, a treasure for the bat species she’d been studying. Now it was bare of blooms, a patch of green against acres of chollas and creosote plants with their fuzzy seed capsules thrust out like fingers. There were no cars here, no tourists crazy enough to venture out into the sizzling nowhere.

Booker pulled off down a narrow path that she never would have noticed. It led to the mouth of a mesquite-lined wash on one side and a massive cliff rising up on the other. The cliff outline was broken up by piles of roughened rock that had broken away and tumbled down, leaving mountains of rubble dotting the ground.

He handed her a bottle of water and grabbed binoculars for them both. “There.” He stabbed a finger at a gap between the cliff and a massive rocky outcropping. “Good view from there. Let’s go.”

She followed him. The heat immediately soaked her in sweat and heated her face until it felt like it would burst into flame. Grateful that she’d remembered to wear a hat, she struggled to match his long strides.

They climbed the sandy cliff trail until they reached the gap. Binoculars ready, Anita scanned the view below. The Painted Cliffs, striped with shades of gold and pink, had earned their name. The recent rain made bits of mica glitter and shine as she strained to see any signs of human presence there.

Nothing.

The only movement came from a golden eagle that soared down to land on a jagged rock far above them. She sagged, head whirling. What had she expected? That Drew would pop up around some rock pile, a smile on his face? She groaned at her own stupidity. That was exactly what she had hoped.

Booker lowered his binoculars and looked at the sun sinking into a swirl of sherbet colors behind the cliffs. “We’ve got to go. Gonna get dark fast now.”

She nodded. “Okay. I just want to climb to that lower ridge there first. I’ll have a view of the whole place.”

He frowned. “Bad idea.”

“I’ll be careful. It will only take a minute.” She saw his jaw tighten.

“Really bad idea.”

“I’m familiar with the outdoors, Booker,” she snapped. “I don’t need your permission. As a matter of fact, why don’t you head back to the truck and I’ll meet you there?” She didn’t wait for his answer, instead spinning on her heel and charging down the path that spiraled toward the ridge. Keeping up a brisk pace, she covered a half mile of twisting path before she ventured a look back. Booker was nowhere in sight.

The rock walls rose up around her, muffling the sound of any approaching feet. It was indeed growing darker by the minute, she thought ruefully. Resolutely, she continued on one of two paths that now snaked downward into a shadowed canyon. She made another half mile before the trail widened into a sort of cathedral-like cave, ribboned with veins of color and illuminated only by the faint light that still shone through a crack of rock above her.

It was the kind of scene Drew would wait hours to shoot, until the light was perfect. Fear shook through her again. There was no sign of her brother here, just as there had been none at the crash site. If he was alive, why hadn’t he contacted her? Or the police?

The cave grew suddenly dark. Anita knew she had stayed too long. Skin prickled in goose bumps, she realized there was still no sound of Booker’s approach. He must have taken her at her word and returned to the truck.

Fine. I can make it back there by myself. She was so intent on picking her way across the floor of the rubble-strewn cavern, she did not hear someone fall in behind her.

A hand, hard and calloused, grabbed her and she was jerked backward off her feet. In a moment she was sitting on a patch of loose gravel, looking into the dark face of a man who held her mouth closed with one hand and kept an arm pressed firmly across her throat, pinning her to the rocky wall.

He slowly moved his arm away from her throat and a knife materialized in his hand. Her blood froze as he held it in front of her eyes. His voice was softly tinged with a Spanish accent. “If you scream, you die.”

Fighting to keep the panic from totally overwhelming her senses, she managed a slight nod. He slowly withdrew the hand from her mouth, knife still hovering close to her face.

He was short, dressed in jeans and a vest that bulged with pockets. A radio clipped to his belt made soft static noises as he stepped back slightly to examine her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Anita Teel.” She was surprised her voice worked at all over the fear that seemed to infest every nerve. “Who are you?”

A tiny smile curved his lips and he pushed back the black hair from his face. “It does not seem to me you are in a position to ask questions.” He turned the knife so it caught the last remaining light. “Why are you here?”

She forced herself to sit up straight. “Why is that your business?”

He did not smile this time. “Everything that happens in this part of the desert is my business. I ask merely for curiosity’s sake. It would be much easier to kill you and be done with it.”

She gasped. “I’m looking for my brother. He’s a photographer. He was working in the area and he’s disappeared.” Her phone beeped, but she didn’t dare answer.

He ignored the ringing, cocked his head slightly, black eyes studying hers. “I have seen you before, further south. You were here, taking pictures, in the spring. Yes?”

“Yes, I was. But I didn’t ever meet you.”

“As I said, it’s my business to know what goes on here.”

The thought of him watching her from a distance all those hours she’d spent without the slightest idea she was under surveillance made her shiver. “Look, I don’t care what your business is, and I don’t care who you are. I just want to find my brother. Have you seen him?”

“Not…recently.”

She leaned forward. “When?”

“He was photographing the cliffs. Perhaps I have seen him since, perhaps not.”

The coldness of the rock seeped into her body as she considered. This man might be telling her the truth. Then again, he might be responsible for her brother’s disappearance. A distant sound startled them both. The man tensed, listening.

Anita sucked in a breath. It was Booker, and he’d walk unawares into the situation. She opened her mouth to scream to him, when her captor fastened a piece of duct tape over her lips. Frantically, she tried to peel it away but he deftly secured her hands behind her, tying them with a section of nylon rope from one of his many pockets.

He leaned close. “If you will not stay quiet, things will go badly for the person who approaches. And for you.”

Eyes round with terror, Anita watched the mouth of the cave, praying that Booker would somehow hear her thoughts.

After Anita’s abrupt departure, Booker took a few moments to calm himself down. It wasn’t easy. The bullheaded woman was going to get herself killed. Figuring he’d have to sling her over his shoulder and force her back to the truck, he’d headed down the trail until he was stopped by a phone call.

“It’s Sergeant Williams. We’re going to call off the search for the night. Still nothing to report. Search and Rescue will be back before sunrise to start again.”

Booker thanked her and continued on his way to find Anita. After another fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of her. He retraced his steps and took the second trail.

On the way he alternately berated himself for getting involved and worried that she might have slipped and fallen down the steep cliff side. He tried dialing her phone without success. Calling her name again and again, he hurried his pace.

Something about the cavern entrance ahead made his body tense. If she’d taken the lower path he’d have been able to spot her. That left the cavern ahead, but she should have heard his calls by now. Why hadn’t she answered him? His pulse quickened.

Lord, please let her be okay. He took a breath and plunged into the dim cavern.

He saw Feria instantly, standing ready with his knife and poised to strike.

Booker froze, his hands away from his body. He frantically shot a glance around the space for Anita and saw her, gagged, staring at him with pleading eyes. “She’s no concern to you, Feria.”

Feria did not lower the knife. “Maybe no. Maybe yes. She does not belong here.”

Booker nodded. “That’s what I tried to tell her.”

The gleam from Feria’s toothy grin shone in the darkness. “She should have listened. You are connected with this lady, then?”

“Just helping her out.”

“I see. I do not like intruders.”

Booker didn’t move. “Neither do I, but that hasn’t stopped you from trespassing on my property.”

“You will be compensated.”

“So you say.”

Feria considered. “Most men, I would not let walk out of here. But since we may have business in the future, I will allow you to go.”

“And the girl.”

He shook his head. “No. She stays.”

Booker took a step closer. “She comes with me. She’s got no interest in your life, only her brother. She won’t make trouble for you. You have my word.”

“I am not sure what your word is worth yet, Mr. Scott, but if I find out it’s only talk, you will pay the price.”

Booker’s stomach tensed in an angry knot. His voiced hissed through the cavern before he could think better of it. “If you hurt Anita in any way, you will answer to me.”

Their eyes locked until finally, with a slight smile, Feria lowered his knife. “I admire a man with courage.” He stepped away from Anita.

Booker went to her, quickly untied the ropes around her wrists and peeled away the duct tape.

As he helped her stand on unsteady legs, Booker noticed that Feria was gone. He gathered Anita in his arms and tried to still the violent trembling that shook her body. “It’s okay.”

She kept her forehead pressed to his chest and he buried his cheek in the soft down of her hair. Thinking about what could have happened made him squeeze her tighter. If he had been moments later…He didn’t allow himself to finish the thought.

She pulled away and took a shuddery breath. “I got the feeling he might know something about my brother. Who is he?”

“I only know him by Feria. He’s a drug smuggler, operates caravans of product that come over the border. He routes them through this area to distribution points where the cargo is shipped out.”

She gaped. “He’s a drug smuggler? How does he know you?”

Booker let her go and led her to the mouth of the cavern. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. He said you have business. What did he mean by that?”

“Nothing. Let’s get going.” He switched a flashlight on and stepped into the darkness.

She grabbed his shoulder. “It’s not nothing. You were talking about some sort of deal with him.”

He turned to face her. “Yeah, we talked and now you’re safe. If you’d have listened in the first place, none of this would have happened. You can thank me anytime.”

She leveled a look at him that made him squirm. “You’re not involved with a drug dealer, are you, Booker?”

The frustration overwhelmed him. “That’s none of your concern. I’m not mining on my property, so your bats are safe. It’s not for you to worry about how I’m managing to make ends meet.” He charged off into the darkness, leaving her to follow.

Self-righteous, ungrateful, nosy. He grumbled the words under his breath as they walked.

You’re not involved with a drug dealer, are you, Booker?How had he managed to get in the situation where she would suspect him of it?

If the Lord didn’t help him find a way out of this mess soon, he’d be the one lost in no-man’s-land.

SIX

Anita stayed silent on the drive back to her hotel. Her head was filled with dark images. Her brother lost, Feria standing over her, and fear that Booker was somehow involved with him. Booker’s admonishment was right, of course. His business didn’t concern her, but the fact that he might have gotten caught up with a drug dealer made her insides tremble. Was he that desperate? She decided to find out more about Booker’s ranch if she could.

His jaw was still set in a stubborn line as he dropped her off and told her what time Search and Rescue would return to the accident site.

“Got a job to do tomorrow, but I’ll get you a loaner car,” he said as he wrenched open the door and helped her from the truck. “Easier than relying on that rental company.”

“I’ll be okay.”

He looked at her, his face softening. “Look, I’m sorry about yelling at you. And I’m glad that everything turned out all right with Feria.”

She gazed into his eyes, lit by the moon, and saw grief and worry there that she hadn’t noticed before. Had everything turned out all right with Feria? She wasn’t so sure.

True to his word, she found a note from Booker slid under her door the next morning.

Chevy belongs to a friend. Radio’s busted but she drives okay. B

She smiled as she climbed in the old truck and headed to the crash site, breathing prayers as she drove. Her nerves grew more agitated with each passing mile. Had they found him? Had her brother crawled away from the crash site and gotten shelter in some rocky crevice? Or had he been too badly injured to survive in the desert? She swallowed hard, thinking about her own near deadly nocturnal encounter.

Sergeant Williams sipped from a cup of coffee. The temperature was already climbing as the sun unfolded around them.

“No sign of him yet, Ms. Teel.”

Anita took a steadying breath. “Sergeant, do you know a man named Feria?”

William’s eyes narrowed. “Bad dude. Why?”

Anita told her about their confrontation, leaving out the part about Booker’s strange mention of a business deal.

Her eyebrows lifted. “You do tend to attract trouble, Ms. Teel. Tires slashed, brother gone and Feria.” She whistled. “I’ll alert Border Patrol. They’ll be interested to know his whereabouts.” She retrieved a clipboard from the car and wrote down Anita’s statement.

As they were finishing up, a sweaty firefighter in brush gear made his way over to them.

Anita shot to her feet. “Did you find him?”

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