“Who’s the tall Navajo man in the brown leather jacket with a pistol on his hip?”

“That’s Daniel Hawk,” Holly’s contact said, following her gaze. “Hawk conducts our training exercises, not only here, but also at every critical tribal facility. Naturally he’s got the highest clearance level.”

Holly nodded, finally being able to put a face to the name. She’d heard Daniel Hawk described as a one-time bad boy who could attract women faster than free chocolate. Daniel had presence. That confidence and take-charge attitude, coupled with those wide shoulders and long legs, sure made him easy on the eyes.

She watched Daniel Hawk as he moved, his back straight, his steps measured and filled with purpose. He came to a stop and glanced around the room, his gaze missing nothing. Then, for a brief moment, his eyes met hers. His steady, penetrating look was a blend of curiosity and casual sensuality that made her body tingle all over.

Yet it wasn’t admiration that was mirrored in the dark eyes that held hers—it was a subtle challenge.

Winter Hawk’s Legend
Aimée Thurlo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Sydney Abernathy, the best assistant—ever. May your future be

bright, and may you always walk with beauty before you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aimée Thurlo is a nationally known bestselling author. She’s the winner of a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews, a New Mexico Book Award in contemporary fiction and a Willa Cather Award in the same category. Her novels have been published in twenty countries worldwide.

She also cowrites the bestselling Ella Clah mainstream mystery series praised in the New York Times Book Review.

Aimée was born in Havana, Cuba, and lives with her husband of thirty-nine years in Corrales, New Mexico. Her husband, David, was raised on the Navajo Indian Reservation.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Daniel Hawk —His job was to keep Holly Gates alive, but he’d never factored falling in love into the equation. Christmas was fast approaching and a killer was on their trail. With everything on the line, win or lose, Daniel knew his life would never be the same again.

Holly Gates —She had an enemy, a man determined to see her dead. The only person standing between her and the grave was temptation itself—a sexy but dangerous security expert with a clear future—but a clouded past.

Martin Roanhorse —He was their boss, at least on paper, and knew everything about them. He was definitely part of the problem, but he was also hiding secrets of his own that could cost them all.

Arthur Larrabee —An ex-cop running for city council, Art was also a security consultant who operated on the principle that the best defense against intruders was overwhelming violence. That made him a potential liability to his clients, including the tribe.

Johnny Wauneka —The young hacker had his own agenda, and Holly, the tribal publicist, was near the top of his enemies list. Was he out to kill the beautiful Anglo woman, or just her message?

Gene Redhouse —He was Daniel’s foster brother. Even if it meant leaving his beloved ranch in a neighbor’s hands, he had Daniel’s back.

Clyde Keesewood —The Navajo activist was an angry man with a mission. The last time they’d met he’d threatened Holly in front of a hundred witnesses. Did he do that just for show, or did he walk his talk?

Ross Williams —The sleazy salesman had decided that Holly was the woman for him. He never passed up an opportunity to corner her, publicly or privately, and Ross didn’t handle rejection well.

Joe Yazzie —Martin’s tribal assistant appeared to be the perfect patsy after his security lapses put everyone in danger. He was either careless, or taking part in a larger plan only he could know.

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Prologue

“I still can’t believe he’s really gone,” Daniel Hawk said. At thirty-four, he’d served two tours overseas and considered himself a hard-core realist in every conceivable way. Yet their foster father, Hosteen Silver, a medicine man, had lived by a different set of rules. The gray-haired hataalii—as Navajos named their healers—had accomplished things that all too often defied reason.

“He valued what mattered and taught all of us to do the same. Now you and I are going to honor his last wishes by climbing up this rock face to that shelf on the cliff.”

As he struggled with his handholds, Daniel glanced over at Gene Redhouse. They weren’t related, but were as close as any brothers could be. Gene had turned thirty-three last summer, and though the two of them had grown up together, they were nothing alike. He was an in-your-face type of man, while Gene usually chose a more peaceful approach—at least at first.

“I learned the other day that Hosteen Silver left four other letters, one for each of our foster brothers. We were the only two asked to fulfill the same task,” Daniel said.

“It’s a two-man job and we’re best suited for this. The fetish he wants us to return to Winter Hawk’s nest was his most powerful spiritual possession. He always carried it with him, except the day he died,” Gene said, following Daniel, handhold by handhold, up the nearly vertical rock face. “He believed that the spirit of Winter Hawk was one with the fetish, and I think that’s why he wanted it returned to the nest after he was gone.”

“I’m the better climber, but you’re the one who has a bond with Winter Hawk,” Daniel said, choosing his route and footholds carefully. “I’d get my face torn off if I got too close to that ledge.”

“What can I say? Hawk likes me better than you, obviously a sign of good taste,” Gene said, laughing quietly.

“I still have questions about the way Hosteen Silver died. Don’t you?” Daniel said, stepping up and gauging the path ahead carefully. After finding a solid hand-and foothold, he moved up, then waited as his brother followed. “Why would he just walk off into the desert in the middle of winter?”

“It’s the way of the Diné, the Navajo People,” Gene reminded. “When it’s time to die, it’s an honorable way to go—not burdening the family.”

“But he wasn’t sick,” Daniel said.

“Not that we knew about, but he must have known that it was his time,” Gene said, accepting his brother’s hand up onto the next ledge.

“Then why didn’t he take the hawk fetish with him on that last walk?” Daniel pressed, moving up, picking his way with sure hands and feet.

“Because he wanted to honor his spiritual link to Hawk. That was also his way,” Gene said, grunting as one of the handholds crumbled.

“Watch it there, bro,” Daniel said. “Move a little to your right.”

“Got it,” Gene said, leaning forward and recapturing his balance.

“Hosteen Silver could know things before they happened,” Daniel said. The word hosteen meant mister, yet it was a title of respect they all used. He and Gene had been welcomed into the old man’s home first, and after they’d left, Hosteen Silver had brought in Preston Bowman and Paul Grayhorse to share his home. Later, Kyle Goodluck and Rick Cloud had come. Though they’d been there at different times, the bond between all six was strong, forged by the man who’d refused to believe that any Navajo boy could be truly bad.

Hosteen Silver had turned their lives around, two at a time, teaching them what was important in life and how to assume responsibility. Preston was a cop in Hartley, a small city just off the reservation. Paul, a U.S. Deputy Marshal, had recently distinguished himself by saving the life of a federal judge. Kyle was serving with NCIS overseas, and Rick…. No one except Daniel knew what he really did for the FBI, and he’d only found out by accident when Rick had needed help.

Hosteen Silver had been proud of them all, though he’d shown that by example, not words. Yet what bound them as a family went beyond blood ties. It was love for the man who’d given them a chance—a handhold on life.

“Are you thinking that there’s a reason he wanted us to work together here, something that goes beyond returning the fetish?”

“Yeah. He had a way of seeing trouble coming,” Daniel said, struggling up to the next narrow outcropping. “I think he wanted us to renew a bond he thought might have weakened since we’ve gone our own ways.”

“He was always concerned that we’d lose touch, and our family connection. He knew that over time, the ties that bind can loosen—come undone.”

“I tried to tell him that would never happen, even if one of us moved to the moon,” Daniel said. “We share too much history.”

“Back at the foster home, you and I were the only Navajo kids and that made us targets. I was sick a lot back then, but you always had my back.”

“I enjoyed taking those guys on. Then Hosteen Silver came into our lives. We went from the frying pan into the fire. We were out of that environment, but remember how he worked our butts off?” Daniel said, chuckling.

“I think that’s what made me healthy again. I finally had clean air, and plenty of exercise, physical and mental.”

“Once you could fight your own battles, your confidence shot way up.”

“And we started competing big-time,” Gene said, laughing. “Last time I saw Hosteen Silver, he asked if we still enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons. I told him we’d grown way past that, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Maybe that’s part of the reason he sent us here to deliver his final gift to Winter Hawk. The only way we’d make it all the way up was if we worked together,” Daniel said.

Daniel reached for Gene, steadying him as another foothold crumbled, the chunks of sandstone tumbling into the air, then cascading to the rocks far below. “We’re almost there. If I’m right, the shelf we want is back to the left and up. You better take the lead now.”

After several minutes inching forward, Gene stopped and looked up. The hawk gazed down at him. “Don’t make any sudden moves or loud noises,” he whispered to Daniel.

They were less than ten feet away from the nest now. “Do you remember the legend?” Gene asked, waiting where he was and giving the bird a chance to settle before drawing closer.

“Word for word. It was one of the first stories Hosteen Silver ever told us,” Daniel said, his soft voice resonating with echoes from the past. “Hawk and his mate always honored their true natures. When they came home every night, they’d take human form and be clothed in garments of bright light. Hosteen Silver would then tell us that, like Hawk, we had the power to change at a moment’s notice and become the men we wanted to be. The choice was ours to make.”

The story seemed to energize Gene. He reached for a new handhold on a sturdy-looking scrub oak, but the plant suddenly came out by the roots. Gene slipped, and for a brief instant, swayed back and forth as he gripped the rock with his left hand only.

“Hang on!” Daniel reached for Gene, steadied his swing, then pulled him upward to a firm foothold.

“Okay, I’ve got it now,” Gene said, his breathing labored.

Daniel waited, giving Gene a chance to catch his breath. “We were so bad back then. Everyone said we were no good—just plain trouble—so we had to live up to the reputation. Then came Hosteen Silver.” He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling.

“Careful, bro. Don’t let Winter Hawk misinterpret your tone.”

The bird lifted her wings, as if to fly, then, as Gene began a Hozonji, a soft, deep Song of Blessing, settled down again and started preening.

“Go past me. I’m too close, and I don’t like the way that bird’s eyeing me,” Daniel said.

“She’s just trying to figure out what we’re up to, that’s all,” Gene said softly, reaching into his jacket pocket and moving along the shelf as Daniel hugged the rock wall.

Daniel watched his brother as he held out the medicine bag with the fetish, and moving ever so slowly, placed it inside the nest.

The hawk hopped back a step, but didn’t fly away.

Daniel smiled. “Had it been me, I’d have pulled back a bloodied stump.”

“It’s your approach. First you have to show respect.”

“I respect what Hawk is—a raptor, a bird of prey,” Daniel said.

“No, not just a bird. Hawk is connected spiritually to our family. By honoring that, we walk in beauty.”

Daniel watched the bird peck and probe the bag for a few seconds, then settle back down, reassured.

“Winter Hawk accepts the tribute,” Gene said.

“We’re done, then,” Daniel said, turning to search for the foothold below his current position.

“No, it’s not over,” Gene said, resting his face against the cold sandstone, then looking down at Daniel. “Trouble is coming. Hosteen Silver was never wrong about things like that.”

Daniel knew Gene was right. He could feel it in his bones. “We’ll face it when it comes, bro, and when the dust settles, we’ll still be standing. Count on it.”

Chapter One

Holly Gates was running ahead of schedule this morning so, on impulse, she decided to turn off the highway and take the old dirt road that ran through the backcountry. This route circled an area of rolling hills filled with fragrant piñon trees, then connected with the natural gas plant’s access road—her destination.

The brilliant blue sky and the unseasonably warm December weather here in northwestern New Mexico made it a perfect morning. Mountains dotted with gray-green forests rose to the north and west. The long, table mesa to the east was lined with cliffs colored in deep reds, orange and even layers of violet, like a sandstone sunrise.

Smiling, Holly looked around the brush and low trees for cottontails, quail and whatever else might be out and about. A solitary red-tailed hawk circled above, watchful for an inattentive rodent or bird.

There were few perfect moments in life, but out here in nature she felt completely at ease. Some people chased happiness as if it were a destination. Yet over the years, she’d learned that happiness could also be found in a well-planned journey. Everyday decisions could become building blocks for an even better tomorrow for those with the foresight to work with an eye on the future.

The courage to nurture her hopes and dreams, along with a lot of hard work, had brought her to where she was today. Just as she knew precisely where she was heading this morning, she also knew where her goals would eventually take her.

At twenty-seven, she owned her own business here in New Mexico. TechTalk Incorporated offered consulting and public relations services to its clients. Currently, she was working almost exclusively on a project with the largest tribe in the U.S., the Navajo Nation. What made her services invaluable was her ability to explain highly technical scientific data in everyday English.

Movement off to the left of the graveled road caught her eye. At a glance she could see several grayish-tan coyotes moving at a fast trot, perpendicular to her route. It was a family group probably—three of the five were clearly smaller than the two mature adults at the front and rear of the pack.

Holly slowed to a crawl for a closer look. She rarely got a chance to study coyotes up close. Navajos, she knew, avoided these creatures, considering them bad luck. Coyote, in the Navajo creation stories, was known as The Trickster and, at best, was an undependable ally.

Holly stopped just before the top of a small rise. If she ventured too close, the human-wise coyotes would alter course and disappear into the brush. As she turned off the engine and set the brake, a flash of color and movement to her left caught her eye.

In a small patch of open ground, a bearded man wearing a baseball cap was unloading a pick from the back of a black, newer-model hardtop Jeep. On the ground beside him was a large, green, military-style canvas duffel bag. Not far beyond, she could see a big hole with a mound of freshly dug earth beside it.

Perhaps responding to the sudden lack of engine noise and crunch of tires on gravel, he turned around and gave her the once-over. Holly waved, greeting him with a smile.

Frowning, the man set the pick down on the ground, propped the handle against the tailgate, then walked away.

Either he wasn’t the friendly type, or he was just plain tired from digging and in no mood to socialize. Of course if he’d needed a pick to break the crust of the hard-packed ground, he probably had his hands full. Judging from the college parking sticker with its big red F on its rear window and his neatly groomed beard, she figured that he was either an archeology or geology professor from the local college.

Though he hadn’t been friendly, Holly scarcely gave it a thought. She always waved at people and greeted them like old friends. She’d learned a long time ago that a smile and a wave could open doors, or at the very least, disarm a potential enemy.

As a new business owner, her friendliness and upbeat nature were an even greater asset to her now. Even a casual wave that called attention to her became added publicity, a method of networking. Her company’s name, TechTalk Incorporated, along with the telephone number and website address, were painted on the driver’s-side door of her pickup. Since she had no extra funds to pay for advertising, this was an inexpensive way of getting attention and potential clients.

When Holly looked back down the road, searching for the coyotes, she found that they’d already disappeared—a survival skill that served them well. Switching on the ignition, she glanced back at the man. The professor or student was by his Jeep again, struggling to load the heavy green duffel bag into the back. For a second she wondered if she should offer to help, but as she reached for the ignition key to turn off the engine again, the man completed the task.

He was probably a geologist with a bag of rock samples. An archeologist would have wrapped up and handled his unearthed find more carefully.

Holly glanced at her watch. It was time for her to get going.

Ten minutes later, she arrived at the gate of the Navajo tribe’s New Horizon Energy’s secure facility. The natural gas processing plant piped in raw natural gas, cleaned it of contaminants, then sent it downline to be used as fuel by consumers. Three strands of barbed wire stood at the top of the mesh, which surrounded the several-acre facility. Security at energy facilities was always high, but she was getting used to it.

Holly handed her photo ID to the armed, uniformed, middle-aged Navajo man at the guardhouse and gave him a smile. Bruce was barrel-chested and about fifty pounds overweight, but she doubted anyone could knock him down without a lot of help.

“Good morning, young lady,” he said with a broad smile. “You all ready for Christmas?”

“If that’s a hint, I’ll be making those chocolate cake cookies you love in a day or two. You’ll be my first stop.”

“My wife would love that recipe—if you ever change your mind.”

“Sorry,” Holly said with a smile. “The pastry chef who came up with it made me swear to never tell a soul. She owns a catering business in Texas now.”

“I’m sure those cookies paved the way for her, too.”

Holly waited until Bruce scanned her ID’s bar code into his handheld device, and wrote her arrival time on his clipboard. Once he gave her a nod, she drove through and nosed her pickup into her designated employee parking space.

Holly walked to the next, unmanned checkpoint, used her access card and went inside the administration building. She could see people gathering in the conference room already, but it was mostly around the coffee and doughnut table, so she would have time to review her notes. She took an aisle seat in the front row and opened her briefcase.

Today she was scheduled to present an overview of the proposed new natural gas recovery process to area guests, industry people, and state and local government representatives. Afterward, she’d give the community leaders who had sufficient clearance a tour of the facility.

Holly saw Martin Roanhorse, the tribal department head, at the front of the room speaking with the facility manager. She was glad that Martin approved of her work, but she hated the way he’d often give her assignments at the last minute. He’d never understood how much preparation her presentations actually took, especially when the audience included both PhD-level engineers and local media who preferred information in sound bites.

Spotting her, Martin hurried over, arriving just as she opened her folder. As usual, he was well dressed. Today, his bolo tie complemented his brown wool Western suit and his snakeskin boots were shined to perfection.

“Here’s an update on our guest list, Holly,” he said. “We’ve made some last-minute additions. We’ve expanded this event to include several people from the public sector. I’ve listed the occupation of each participant, as well as their stated reason for attending,” Martin said, ignoring her scowl. “The tour of the facility, of course, will remain restricted to those who’ve already been cleared.”

“I’ve asked you before not to spring these things on me at the last minute, Martin. Half of what I’ve already prepared will probably go right over their heads. I’m supposed to communicate, not confuse.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, but this request came from the tribal president. He’s been getting flak from some activists and wanted you to make sure everyone understood that there’s no danger to the aquifer.”

She took a deep breath and let it out again. “The new guests… Is that why I’m seeing extra security this morning?” Holly cocked her head toward the back of the room where two plant security guards were stationed just inside the exit.

“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t worry. Everyone was checked with the wands when they came through the security gates.”

“Who’s the tall Navajo man in the brown leather jacket with a pistol on his hip? A tribal cop? He looks ex-military.”

“You may have heard his name mentioned during tribal agency meetings. That’s Daniel Hawk,” he said, following her gaze. “Like you, he’s a private consultant. Hawk owns Level One Security and conducts our training exercises, not only here, but also at every critical tribal facility. Naturally he’s got the highest clearance level.”

Holly nodded, finally being able to place a face to the name. She’d heard Daniel Hawk described as a one-time bad boy who could attract women faster than free chocolate. Daniel had presence. That confidence and take-charge attitude, coupled with those wide shoulders and long legs, sure made him easy on the eyes.

She watched Daniel Hawk as he moved, his back straight, his steps measured and filled with purpose. He came to a stop and glanced around the room, his gaze missing nothing. Then, for a brief moment, his eyes met hers. That steady, penetrating look was a blend of curiosity and casual sensuality that made her body tingle all over.

Holly was used to being checked out by men wherever she was. Though she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, at five foot three she had generous curves in all the right places and men had a tendency to turn their heads to look when she stepped into a room. Yet it wasn’t admiration that was mirrored in the dark eyes that held hers—it was a subtle challenge.

Taking a deep breath, Holly forced herself to look away. He wasn’t checking her out in a man-woman sort of way. He was a professional, sizing her up as he would any stranger in his environment.

Hearing herself being introduced, her focus shifted instantly to the job at hand. Holly beamed a confident smile to everyone in the audience as she strode up to the podium. Prepared, she started her presentation without skipping a beat. Martin had already loaded her graphics into the projection system and the remote worked perfectly.

Even though nearly every seat in the room was occupied, she felt completely at ease. Her engaging voice kept everyone’s attention, even through the dry, technical segments of her presentation.

Everything went smoothly until she began to explain the specifics of the new extraction process—an improved technique for freeing up deposits of natural gas far below the surface. Out of the corner of her eye Holly saw a Navajo man wearing a denim jacket rise from his seat. He sidestepped past the seated guests and headed toward the center aisle.

Holly wondered if the man was having difficulty keeping up with the technical portion, but she was forced to block him from her mind and focus on her presentation.

As soon as he reached the aisle and turned toward the podium instead of the exit, Holly recognized him instantly. Clyde Keeswood was a community activist who’d opposed the tribe’s energy resource operations from day one. He’d shouted out his opposition in every press conference and lecture she’d held the past few months. Now what?

Almost as the thought formed, she saw Daniel Hawk on the move.

“This is the same PR bull we hear every day,” Keeswood shouted, walking toward her. “Why don’t you give us the whole story?” He came to a stop next to her empty chair and glared at her.

“I promise to answer your questions after I finish explaining the details of the extraction process,” Holly said, refusing to raise her voice. “I’ll keep it brief, Mr. Keeswood, then we’ll address whatever concerns you have. If you can take a seat….”

He remained standing. “Nothing will be brief, except our way of life after the wells run dry. Sure, the tribe and their big business partners will make gobs of money selling natural gas to— I don’t know, big developers, factories? But the water table will be contaminated with chemicals—that’s if the wells don’t go dry first. You think this is a desert now? Just wait.”

“No chemicals except water itself will be used to free up the gas formations. Let me show you how it works,” she said. She stepped to the left and pressed a remote. A projector on the far side of the room produced an image on the screen behind her on the wall.

The man spat out a curse and picked up her chair. As he raised it over his head, Daniel Hawk was suddenly there. In a split second he yanked the chair away from Keeswood.

The force threw the activist off balance. He fell backward and toppled onto the tile floor. Daniel set the chair aside, and straddled the troublemaker, ready to roll him over and cuff him.

Keeswood punched upward but Daniel blocked the jab, grabbed his hand, then twisted it around, forcing the man facedown on the floor. By then, two uniformed security guards arrived. They hauled Keeswood to his feet and quickly led him away.

Barely ten seconds had passed, but the room had grown completely silent. Holly glanced at Daniel, and he nodded, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Harmony has been restored. I think we can continue now,” she said, and the room exploded in applause. Holly glanced back, looking for Daniel, but all she saw was his back as he left the room.

Disappointed, she focused on what she had to do. Later, when she could get away, she’d catch up to him and thank him personally for what he’d done.

Chapter Two

Once her presentation came to a close, Holly smiled at her largely enthusiastic audience and thanked the group for their patience. “Now I’d like to answer all your questions. Please ask me whatever you’d like.”

The question-and-answer session took another thirty minutes. Afterward, they broke for a well-deserved lunch.

Holly followed the attendees to the small cafeteria at the other end of the building. Going down the buffet line, she opted for a large bowl of fresh mutton stew, warm fry bread and hot coffee in a big white mug with the tribal emblem on the side. With her tray full, she headed to a table by the windows. As she approached the spot, a tingle of awareness spread through her.

Female intuition… She knew even before she could confirm it that Daniel Hawk was looking at her.

As Holly set her tray down, Daniel came up and introduced himself, but according to Navajo customs, didn’t offer to shake hands.

“No introduction is necessary, Mr. Hawk,” she said, noting how low and masculine the timbre of his voice was and how it seemed to fit him perfectly. “I know who you are and I’m glad you came over.” She sat down and invited him to join her. “I owe you a big thank-you.”

“No thanks are needed, but I thought you could use some pointers on how to spot trouble before it happens,” he said, taking a seat across from her. “We can talk now while you have lunch.”

For a moment she wondered if he was somehow blaming her for what had happened. “I’d like to hear what you’ve got to say,” she said, “but my job is to give presentations. If there’s a problem, security has to handle it.”

“They will. I just thought a few tips might give you an edge. If nothing else, it could give you time to duck.”

She smiled, but before she could answer, two more session attendees came up with their trays to join them at the table. They’d only been there a minute or so when Daniel’s pager went off and he was forced to leave.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Jennifer Long, a representative from a local utility cooperative, whispered.

Holly watched Daniel until he left the cafeteria. “He’s observant, too. I get the feeling very little gets past him.”

“Do you suppose he knows he’s total eye candy?” Mary Randall, an attorney for the tribe, said with a mischievous smile.

They laughed, and as Holly ate lunch, two more people joined them. It wasn’t until later that afternoon, during a pause in the schedule, that Holly saw Daniel again. He met her by the coffee urn as she stepped out of a meeting room during a short break.

“I’m glad we ran into each other,” Holly said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and I would like to get some of those tips you mentioned. If I remember things right, you were on the move today before the trouble with Keeswood began. How did you know what would happen?”

“I watched him from the moment he came into the room. His shoulders were rigid and he looked like a man looking for trouble. I went with my gut and stayed close.”

“So it was reading his body language that did it,” she said with a nod.

“There was more,” he answered. “I noticed that he kept checking out the location of security with his eyes, but not moving his head to stare directly. This is all part of what I wanted to talk to you about. If you’re willing to set aside some time, I’d be happy to teach you a few things.”

“I’ll be through here at four-thirty. Would you like to meet then?” she said.

He checked his watch, then shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve still got two more meetings to attend today. One of them will probably run over, too, since we’ll be working out the details of our next security training exercise. How about if we meet for dinner tonight? You name the place?”

She hesitated. She didn’t date people associated with her work. That hard-and-fast rule had helped her company run smoothly.

“Please don’t think of it as a date. It’s business,” he said, almost as if he’d read her mind.

She nodded, relieved. “How about we meet at the Simple Pleasures Café in Hartley, off Twentieth Street? Do you know it?”

“I’ve never been there, but I’ve passed by. I can meet you at, say, seven?”

As she looked at Daniel, in his weathered brown leather jacket and jeans, she wondered if his tastes ran closer to the Bucking Bronco, just outside of Hartley and a world away from Simple Pleasures.

The Bucking Bronco was a bar and grill well-known for the good ol’ boys it attracted. It wasn’t a rough place, at least not if you judged solely on the number of police visits per month. The bar, in county jurisdiction, had its own way of handling trouble. She’d heard that disputes there were settled inside a cage until one of the parties went down.

“Seven it is, then,” she said, realizing that her thoughts had wandered.

“For what it’s worth, I admire how you kept your cool when Keeswood confronted you. It showed courage and character.” He flashed her a heart-stopping half smile, then his gaze shifted. “Martin needs me,” he said, giving their boss a nod. “I better get back to work.”

“Me, too. Break time’s over,” she said, looking down at the foam coffee cup she’d never filled.

The rest of the day went by in slow motion. She’d always prided herself on her ability to stay focused, but Daniel Hawk was proving to be a very persistent distraction. She was curious about the man she’d heard women whispering about around the coffee machine. No matter what else, it promised to be an interesting dinner tonight.

HOLLY ARRIVED HOME in Hartley shortly after six. She stepped inside her small, World War II era casita, a two-bedroom home in an established middle-class neighborhood, and felt the tranquility of the house welcome her. She’d worked hard to make the fixer-upper place she’d bought two years ago into the home it was today.

She smiled as she looked at the light apricot-colored walls, her favorite color, and the old hardwood floors, worn in the center and slightly concave in places from decades of foot traffic. She’d lovingly refinished the thirties era armoire and the solid oak bookcase to match the honey glow of the tongue and groove floors.

All her furniture had a past and its own history. She’d bought most of the pieces at auctions or estate sales. Each had called to her in a special way, maybe because of an intricate carving in the wood, or the construction itself.

Most important, all her belongings spoke of endurance and stability. Growing up, change had been the only constant in her life. Her father, a gambler usually on the run from creditors, the law, or on the lookout for fresh pigeons, had kept them on the move.

Her own home was a reminder that those days were finally behind her. It was a symbol of permanence and security, the very things that had always eluded her and what she valued most. To the observant, her home’s whispers revealed much about her, things she wanted to keep private. Maybe that was why she usually only invited close friends over.

Holly stopped by the big cardboard egg crate that held all her Christmas ornaments. She’d set it against the wall, ready to open up as soon as she brought her Christmas tree home. It would be a six-foot blue spruce this year, with lots of branches. She already had an image of what it would look like in her mind.

Reaching down, she picked up the hand-carved angel she’d placed on top of all the other ornaments. It was a lovely piece signed by a turn-of-the-century Spanish carver in Santa Fe. The other ornaments were also antiques, salvaged here and there from unlikely places. Even the metal stand, though simple in design, dated back to the nineteen-fifties.

As her cherrywood grandfather clock chimed the half hour, Holly hurried into the bedroom. She needed to shower and change before meeting Daniel.

Twenty-five minutes later, she emerged from the bedroom wearing a simple emerald-green turtleneck sweater and dark, comfortable wool pants. Grabbing her coat from the rack as she left, she set out.

It was a perfect evening, so she’d decided to walk to Simple Pleasures. The night temperature was unseasonably warm, and tonight there was going to be a meteor shower. The chance of seeing a shooting star was too good to pass up.

Though it was still early in the evening and she knew that most celestial activity would be after midnight, she kept her eyes on the heavens as she walked. The cloudless sky would make it easy to see nature’s light show. The streets here were dark enough for that, with streetlamps only at the intersections between blocks. No one minded, since the neighborhood was as safe as could be.

Although the south side of the boulevard beginning at the end of the block was zoned commercial, ordinances restricted light pollution and business signs. The coffee shop on the corner and the converted homes beyond served mostly as law and real estate professional offices and didn’t shout their presence.

There was no traffic at the moment, so Holly decided to leave the sidewalk and cross diagonally. There was a big pine tree in the median and she loved its Christmassy scent. As she stepped out into the street, Holly heard footsteps approaching from behind.

She turned, ready to greet a person she assumed would be one of her neighbors—but she was wrong. A man wearing some kind of dark bandanna over his face lunged toward her. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he grabbed her hard by the shoulders, pulling her close.

“Let go!” she yelled, pushing him in the chest as hard as she could.

Holly tried to scream, but a heavy glove quickly covered her mouth, cutting off her breath. The man spun her around, wrapped his free arm across her middle like a vise, then dragged her over the curb and onto the grass between the trees. When she kicked him in the leg, he lifted her off the ground, leaving her flailing in midair.

Grunting, he pushed her face down into the grass, his knees on her back. He smelled of sweat and strong aftershave, and his weight was crushing the air right out of her lungs. For a moment his hand slipped off her mouth and she screamed as loud as she could.

Holly felt him slip the loop of heavy cord over her head and knew he intended to strangle her. She was in a fight for her life. Terrified, she scrunched her chin against her chest and slipped her hand up under the cord, trying to keep it away from her throat. Her fingers pressed into her throat painfully, but if she wanted to live, she had to keep them in the way. It was her only hope.

Chapter Three

Daniel turned into the alley and parked his SUV in the rear lot of Simple Pleasures. The coffee shop—a former home—was off the street and had a big front porch with dining tables underneath for warmer weather and sunny days.

He pressed the key button remote to lock the car and wondered if he was early or late. When he was off the clock he preferred to go on Indian time, but he had a feeling that Holly was the kind of woman who appreciated promptness. It was certainly a plus in her type of business.

As Daniel strode down the narrow sidewalk toward the coffee shop’s rear entrance, he heard what sounded like a scream cut short. It had come from across the street, toward the front of the building. Instinctively he cut around the coffee shop and sprinted toward the sound.

Dimly illuminated by the streetlight were two people lying on the grass between the sidewalk and the street curb, fighting. Reaching into his jacket pocket as he ran, Daniel brought out a small flashlight and switched it on.

A guy wearing a blue bandanna over his face, like a cheap rustler from an old cowboy movie, had a cord wrapped around a woman’s neck. As the would-be killer turned his head to look, the glare of Daniel’s beam blinded him for a heartbeat.

The suspect instinctively threw his arm up to shield his eyes, revealing Holly’s face in the grass.

“Holly, roll!” he yelled, closing the gap between them.

Holly twisted away, breaking his grip. Her assailant immediately jumped to his feet and swung around, crouched and ready to counter Daniel’s expected tackle.

Daniel led instead with a flying kick, catching the man full force in the chest. The impact knocked his opponent off the grass and across the narrow sidewalk, slamming his back into the low stone wall that bordered the lawn of the residence behind him. Daniel glanced at Holly, who was now on her knees, coughing.

“I’m okay,” she croaked, gasping for air.

Daniel focused once again on his enemy, who’d risen to his feet and was now in a fighting stance, right leg and arm slightly forward—his strong side.

“Come on,” the man whispered harshly, motioning confidently with his gloves. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

His attacker clearly had some training, but Daniel knew the initiative belonged to him now. He assumed an attack position, hands up and open, ready to advance or kick, or block with his forearms. The guy was bigger than he was, but that had never been much of a problem.

The man advanced, throwing a left jab to set up a right. Daniel slipped to the side, countering with a left punch to the man’s ribs as the incoming jab barely brushed his cheek. The man gasped and rocked back, stunned by the blow.

Suddenly they were both illuminated by the headlights of an approaching car. The glare caught Daniel by surprise and he was forced to step back, arms up. Yet no blow came—his attacker knew it was time to run.

Holly’s assailant shot down the sidewalk, leaped the low retaining wall, then raced across a front lawn toward a side street.

“I’m going after him. Stay here,” Daniel said, leaping over the low wall.

Confident he could keep the man in sight and eventually catch up to him, Daniel raced across the grass. As he started to narrow the gap, the man faked left toward the street, then cut right, heading down the side of the house toward a three-foot-high wall that enclosed the backyard. He jumped it cleanly, never breaking his stride.

Daniel followed seconds behind, but lost a step as he hurdled the wall and nearly collided with an outdoor grill. By then, his opponent was already nearing the opposite wall. Again, the man, wearing some kind of jogging sweats, hurdled the wall like a track star and actually gained ground.

Daniel reached the wall four seconds later and leaped over, only vaguely aware of the sound of a television program somewhere to his right.

As soon as he cleared the wall, he saw the back of the running man dodging some barren rosebushes as he sprinted toward another low wall on the far side of the next property.

Daniel knew he was gaining ground, but, focusing on his target, he nearly crashed into a rose trellis. He swerved at the last second, barely missing the plant. When he looked up, all he could see was the upper half of his target, fading away in the dark. The guy was a natural hurdler and soon went over the cinder block wall like an equestrian—minus the horse.

“Damn!” Daniel heard a female voice say from somewhere behind him and recognized Holly’s voice. She’d followed. Why the hell were women so difficult? They always seemed to do the opposite of what a man expected.

He pushed back the distraction. At least she’d recovered quickly enough to race after them, so he didn’t need to worry about her right now. He kept his gaze forward, and this time leaped just high enough to touch the wall with his right foot as he went over. It was easier now that he had his rhythm back, but he wasn’t gaining enough to bring down the suspect.

The next yard had the back porch light on, and he could see his target clearly. Almost as if sensing that he wouldn’t be able to outrun Daniel for long, the guy veered to his right, slipping on the cold grass and almost falling flat. Recovering quickly, he ducked around the side of the house toward the street and disappeared.

Daniel slowed down, suspecting a corner ambush, then caught a flash of something moving to his left, low to the ground. Spinning around, he saw a huge dog—or at least two rows of gleaming white teeth against a dark shape.

As the dog growled, Daniel jumped up onto the three foot wall. Forced to watch his feet, he ran along the narrow top. As soon as he reached the yard’s wooden gate, he jumped high over the top, praying he wasn’t leaping blind onto a stack of firewood.

Luck was with him. Daniel landed with a crunch on light gravel just as the dog slammed into the other side of the gate with an awesome thud.

Daniel glanced around quickly, but the driveway before him was empty. Then he heard the sound of squealing tires. As he turned his head back toward the boulevard, he saw taillights racing away. He’d lost him. It was over—for now.

He was walking back up the street in the direction of the coffee shop when he heard footsteps approaching to his right. “He’s getting away,” Holly called out, running across the lawn toward him. “I tried to catch up, but those danged walls kept slowing me down.”

“I thought I told you to stay put.”

Holly bristled. “And do what? Stand there gagging in the dark, hoping he wouldn’t circle the block and come back for round two? I felt safer chasing him.”

“Did you get the license plate, by any chance?”

“No, did you?” she answered.

He shook his head, dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the police.

LESS THAN THREE minutes later, an officer drove up. The attractive blond officer recognized Daniel and smiled at him as she took out a small notebook. “You stirring up trouble on my beat again, Hawk?”

He gave her a grim smile. “It’s good to see you, Penny,” he said, then updated her, giving as much of a description as possible of their attacker.

“That’s not much to go on. He’s going to be changing his clothes right away, and his approximate height and build aren’t going to give us much of a lead.” Still taking notes, she glanced at Holly. “Did he speak to you at all, Ms. Gates?”

Holly shook her head. “No, he never said a word, Officer White,” she said, noting the officer’s name tag. “Somehow that made it even worse. He wanted me dead, but he had nothing to say to me?” Her voice broke at the last word and she swallowed hard.

“Have you had problems with anyone lately, an old boyfriend, maybe, or an ex-husband? A neighbor?”

Holly shook her head. “Never married, and no on the rest. Is there any attacker on the loose? Our neighborhood watch usually warns us regarding a crime spree, but I haven’t heard about any serious problems lately.”

“Things have been quiet,” Officer White said. “Particularly in this neighborhood.”

“Not anymore,” Daniel said.

Officer White nodded somberly.

“I have one possible lead for you,” Daniel said, then told her about the incident with Keeswood earlier that day.

“Clyde Keeswood’s basically a loudmouth,” Holly said, shaking her head. “He wants attention and makes noise to get it, but he’s not really violent. He knew I’d see the chair coming and dodge. Had he really meant to hurt me, he would have rushed the podium.”

“It’s still possible that tonight’s incident was in retaliation for what happened earlier,” the officer said, placing her notebook back into her pocket. “We’ll talk to Mr. Keeswood and get in touch with you if we need to do a follow-up. In the meantime, you might want to avoid going for walks alone at night,” she said. Giving Daniel a quick nod and smile, Officer White got into her patrol car and drove off.

“Why don’t we go have something to eat and try to sort this out? Are you up to it?” he asked, noticing how she had her arms folded, almost as if hugging herself.

She nodded, then walked with him up the street. “Do you really think this had something to do with my work for the tribe?”

“What happened tonight could have a dozen explanations, including a stalker, but let it go for now,” he said, his voice steady. “Once you eat something and have a little time to relax, you may find that you’re able to remember more, little details you might have blocked out because you were too busy staying alive.”

“All right. I’ll try. I want this man caught and put behind bars. He’s…crazy.”

“Maybe,” Daniel muttered under his breath as he walked beside her down the sidewalk.

DANIEL ORDERED a green chile cheeseburger with the works. She decided on a grilled cheese sandwich. She wasn’t at all hungry and her throat was a little sore, but from the looks of it, Daniel had worked up quite an appetite after tonight’s run.

Holly picked at her sandwich and sipped the warm, soothing chamomile-and-peppermint-flavored tea, one of her favorites. Logic told her that it was over and she had nothing else to fear, but she still couldn’t quite make herself relax.

“You saved my life tonight and I haven’t even thanked you yet,” she said, warming her hands on the ceramic mug she was holding.

He smiled. “It’s not necessary, but I’d like you to answer one question for me. You were unarmed, yet you still raced after the man who tried to strangle you. What were you planning to do if you caught him?”

“I can’t fight, but I might have been able to distract him while you did the rough stuff,” she said, then paused before continuing, “There are many ways to win a fight, Daniel. Sometimes it’s a matter of buying someone else a few seconds to act.”

“You’re right,” he said. “Diversions can be crucial in some situations.”

“Earlier today, you offered to give me some pointers on how to spot trouble. I’m ready to listen. The guy walked right up to me and I never thought a thing about it until he grabbed me by the shoulders. By then it was too late.”

He nodded. “All right. For starters, when you’re giving a talk, watch individuals, not just the overall group. Look for behavior that doesn’t fit in with the others present. Search for small telltale signs, not just confrontational stares. For example, people who are lying or have an agenda tend to touch their face a lot. If you’re close enough, watch for downward gazes, too, or looking off to the right. Attitude and posturing are the keys. Guys looking for trouble often telegraph their intentions,” he said. “The single most important thing is this—if you think there’s going to be trouble, get backup fast.”

“No problem there. I’m not a fighter by nature,” she said quietly.

“You’re still scared, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “You don’t have to be. He’s gone. He got a lot more than he bargained for tonight.”

“Yes, but will he come back and try again? Not knowing is the worst part of this.” She wished she could have said something tough and brave sounding instead, but the truth was that she was terrified. “I wish you’d have just brought out your gun and held him until the police came, instead of fighting him face-to-face.”

“It’s locked up in my SUV. I rarely carry it off the job. Besides, I never draw my weapon unless I’m going to use it and that wasn’t an option tonight. I never had a clear line of fire.” He took a deep breath. “Guns aren’t always the best solution, either. A show of deadly force often provokes a lethal response from your opponent, and stray bullets don’t discriminate. When I draw my weapon, it’s because I have no other choice, and the person who forced that response is likely to end up dead.”

The total lack of emotion in his voice chilled her to the bone. Yet the way his hand had curled into a hard fist revealed another story. Beyond his acceptance of the inevitability of violence was an acute awareness of the cost it exacted.

“My job is very different from yours,” she said with a soft sigh. “It’s about logic, and reason, and the ability to communicate effectively. The incident with the chair this morning isn’t the norm at all. Mind you, cranks and protesters will shout all kinds of things, but until today, I’ve never had that escalate into an actual physical attack.”

“The problem is that the Diné have been lied to for centuries, and the tribe is still paying the price for believing outsiders—illnesses and death from unsafe mining operations, contaminated water and ground poisoned by uranium.”

“But this is the tribe’s own process. No one’s lying to anyone.”

“You see tribal government working on behalf of its people, but Diné activists see Anglo corporations coming to talk to our leaders and selling them a bill of goods. You’re going to keep having problems,” Daniel said. “The protesters are going on the offensive, so you need to stay alert whenever you’re in public.”

“And know when to duck?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that, too.”

As they talked, Holly found herself relaxing and enjoying Daniel’s company. After they finished dessert, she once again tried to review the details of what had happened earlier. Though she worked hard to look at the events objectively, no new answers came to her.

“What happened to me tonight…it must have been random. In my business I don’t make these types of enemies. I’m a spokesperson, that’s all, not someone who implements policy. The man who came at me must have had his own agenda.”

“You might be right,” he said, but his tone said he was unconvinced.

“It’s getting late,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I don’t want to walk back home alone. Would you give me a ride?”

“Be glad to.”

They left the coffee shop and rode back in his SUV. The interior was spotless and smelled of leather and lime aftershave. She sat back, glad for the company, particularly now. There was something very reassuring about Daniel’s presence.

When they pulled up in front of her home a short time later, she saw him studying her front porch, watching the white swing that swayed gently in the cool breeze.

“I’d invite you in, but I need to try and get some sleep. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” she said.

“My guess is that you still have too much adrenaline pumping through your system. I know—I’ve been there. What’s your way of relaxing? Music, exercise or something else?”

It was the way he’d emphasized those last two words that immediately sparked her imagination. She could have sworn she’d heard a very tempting invitation there.

Holly pushed the thought aside. She wasn’t thinking clearly, that’s all. The man had asked her a simple question.

“I’m going to go inside, put on my fuzzy slippers and break open the box of chocolate truffles I’ve been saving for my next celebration.”

“Celebration? Tonight? What’s the occasion?”

“I survived. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

Not giving him a chance to answer, she climbed out of his SUV, waved goodbye and walked to the front porch.

Chapter Four

As the owner of TechTalk Incorporated, Holly was her own boss, but she still had to answer to her clients. Martin Roanhorse wasn’t as difficult as most, but he could be demanding, particularly when things weren’t flowing as smoothly as he wanted. Right now, from the look on his face, she could tell that something had upset him.

“I heard about the incident last night,” he said as she took the seat he offered. “You shouldn’t have been wandering around alone outside, particularly after what happened here yesterday.”

Since it was barely eight in the morning, she was surprised to find out he already knew of the attack. “I was on my way to meet someone,” she said calmly. “In case you’re worried, I don’t think it had anything to do with my job.” She paused then added, “How did you find out so quickly?”

“I spoke to Daniel Hawk this morning.”

She blinked. “He’s already here?”

He nodded. “Down the hall. He’s going over a scheduled training op with our security team. The briefing started at daybreak,” he said, then quickly got back to the matter at hand. “Have you heard anything from the Hartley police?”

“No, not yet.”

“Your work is important to the tribe, Holly, so I’m authorized to provide you with protection if you think it might be necessary. Just say the word,” he said.

Martin’s offer caught her off guard. She’d worked all night to convince herself that what had happened was the result of an unlucky set of circumstances, nothing more. Having to once again face the possibility that she might continue to be a target made a cold shiver race up her spine.

She took a breath, trying to calm herself down. Forcing all doubts and fear from her voice, she answered Martin. “Thank you very much, but that’s not necessary. I really think it was an isolated thing.”

“But you can’t be sure,” he said, voicing the thought that whispered from the dark corners of her mind. “Let’s keep the offer on the table for now, just in case.”

She started to argue, then stopped. Creating problems or encouraging needless confrontations wasn’t her style.

“When you called this meeting, you mentioned that you had a new assignment for me,” she said, bringing him back to the business at hand.

Martin nodded. “Some of our investors are still concerned that this facility will be vulnerable to sabotage, especially after it became clear that our new exploration and recovery operations are being challenged. So I’d like you to go meet Daniel Hawk and observe today’s special training exercise. A team of ex-police officers acting as terrorists will mount an assault and our own security people will have to counter it. It’s meant to test the effectiveness of the protective measures we have in place. Afterward, I’d like you to present our investors with the results of the exercise, which I believe will be positive. Just don’t give out details of the actual tactics we use here. Those have to remain classified.”

“Is the exercise going to include this building?” she asked.

“No, that would disrupt other business. The target is the new building behind this one, which is still just a shell at the moment. Arthur Larrabee will be directing the assault team. Do you know him?”

“The name sounds familiar…” she said, trying to place it.

“He’s running for city council over in Hartley.”

She smiled and nodded. “Now I remember. He started campaigning early. Elections are six months from now.”

“Larrabee’s an ex-police officer who also teaches police science classes at the college. We needed someone who could seriously challenge Daniel Hawk’s strategies and tactics, and that was tough to find. Most of the top people in that field are already at work in other facilities.”

“Hawk—he’s that good?”

“You better believe it,” he said without hesitation. “Larrabee’s his equal, though—at least on paper.”

“Better at the job?”

“No, not better,” Roanhorse said slowly. “Their methods are different, that’s all. Larrabee’s strategy is to deploy large, heavily armed security forces. Hawk…” His voice trailed off as he thought about it. “Hawk’s tactics call for small, highly trained teams.”

“Size doesn’t always matter,” a familiar voice said from behind Holly. As she turned, Daniel smiled and entered the office. “A handful of highly trained experts can block access to the most vulnerable targets and neutralize any intruders.”

“That sounds logical,” Holly said.

“Larrabee hasn’t made his move yet, but everything’s in place,” Daniel said.

“Then take Ms. Gates with you and brief her, Daniel,” Martin said. “Make sure she knows what parts of the operation need to remain secret.”

“Roger that.”

Daniel led the way out of Martin’s office and walked with Holly down the hall. “My observation post is at the far end of this building. We’ve got an extensive camera network there that will help me monitor each phase of the exercise.”

She followed him into a small office and saw a myriad of screens mounted on shelves. He pointed to the only seat, an office chair on casters. “Go ahead, sit. I prefer to stand.”

She took the chair. “Can you give me a rundown on what you expect to take place?”

“No time. It’s starting,” he said, pointing to one of the screens as he adjusted his small headset. “Vibration detectors in the ground have picked up footsteps outside the back fence. Those men at the front gate are probably only a diversion meant to misdirect our security officers.” He used the mouse to open a second view of three other, armed men scaling the perimeter fence with a ladder.

“They have guns. I thought this was only a drill,” Holly said quickly.

“It is. Everyone’s wearing sensors, and those tubes on the barrels are lasers. They’ll be shooting light, not bullets.”

“Like laser tag.”

“Pretty much.” He checked the other screens and saw two men approaching a camera alongside the key building. One stood on the other’s shoulder and placed a piece of tape over the lens. Immediately another camera across the compound focused on the act, covering and recording it. Next, one of the men brought out a handful of keys and began trying them on the lock.

“The bad guys wouldn’t have keys, would they? Wouldn’t they just blow the door?” Holly asked.

“Yeah, but we can’t afford to keep buying new doors and locks just for a training op. The amount of time needed to find the right key is a variable, just like the time it takes to place the explosives.”

There was a tone that came over a speaker, and the man covering the one with the keys turned around, shaking his head.

Holly saw a small device strapped to his chest, now blinking. “He’s been shot, right?” Holly asked.

There was another beep. The one with the keys turned around, mouthing an easy to recognize curse. “Yeah, and we just got the other one, too. Snipers are covering the building exteriors and the walkways between structures. Our tactics funnel any assaulting personnel into capture or kill zones.”

“What about those men out front, creating the diversion?” Holly looked back at the front gate.

“They’re locked out. Another gate will swing shut if they somehow get past the first team of guards. There’s also a metal plate in the road that’ll keep anyone from crashing through in a vehicle.”

“What if somebody comes over or under the fence and is unarmed? If you’re dealing with a zealot or someone who’s disturbed, will they get shot, too?”

Daniel shook his head. “If we don’t see firearms or suspicious packages, then the guards use Tasers, gas or rubber bullets—normally nonlethal weapons.”

Ten minutes later, Daniel’s phone rang. He spoke for a moment, hung up and looked at Holly.

“Every intruder has been neutralized. They didn’t get inside the building,” Daniel said, smiling. “Larrabee’s going to be spitting mad. You’ll meet him soon. He’ll be coming in to debrief. Now that he knows where the cameras are, he’ll be asked to mount another exercise in a few days. Meanwhile, our security people will meet and work out any potential weaknesses in our tactics. I don’t play a more active role because this is their test.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll pitch this as exacting security measures that anticipate trouble and protect against all manner of intrusions. Sound good?”

“Yeah, that’s precisely what it is.”

As he stepped forward to hang his headset on a hook, she stood and their chests touched. Her skin prickled, but she stopped short of sucking in her breath.

“Sorry. It’s a tight fit,” he said, stepping back but bumping into the desk.

“Which is why I’m leaving,” she said, turning just as a dark-haired Anglo man wearing a desert camouflage suit, boonie hat and leaf-green camo-creme face paint appeared at the door.

“Larrabee,” Daniel said, nodding.

“You’ve got observers?” Larrabee said, standing in the doorway.

“I’m Holly Gates for TTI. The tribe’s corporate partners wanted some additional information on security measures here,” she said. “I’ve got what I need now, so I’ll be on my way.”

“Don’t rush off, pretty lady,” Larrabee said, giving her a wink.

“We’ve got a debrief to take care of right now, Art,” Daniel said. “Let’s not get distracted.”

Roanhorse came up behind Larrabee just then. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I need to see both of you in my office.”

Daniel motioned Larrabee to the door, then followed him out.

Holly was the last to leave the room. She closed the door behind her, then stopped by the water cooler as the others continued down the hall. If she’d read Martin’s expression right, there was a new problem brewing. She had a feeling she’d find out what it was before she left this morning.

In the interim, there was another person she wanted to see. She walked down the hall in the opposite direction.

As she entered the last doorway to her left, Jane Begay looked up and smiled. Jane was a beautiful Navajo woman with long black hair, normally fastened at the nape of her neck while at work. Today, she wore a nondescript brown wool pantsuit with a plain white turtleneck sweater beneath, but what set it off was the beautiful turquoise-and-silver squash blossom necklace around her neck.

“It’s good to see you, safe and sound. I heard that you’ve been having all kinds of trouble lately,” Jane said, offering Holly a seat.

She and Jane were good friends. She’d been the one who’d recommended Holly for the job here at the new natural gas processing plant. Jane served as the local IT person, maintaining the computer network and training employees to use their specialized software and electronic systems.

Briefly, Holly explained what had happened the night before. “Years ago, this kind of attack would have been unheard of in the Four Corners, but now….”

“Yeah, progress,” Jane said in a hushed tone. “Are you being extra careful?”

“I’ll be looking over my shoulder a lot more, sure,” Holly admitted, “but I refuse to hide in my closet and cower.”

“I hear you,” Jane said, “but don’t let pride or bluster get in the way of common sense. I know you like your independence, but you might need a little extra help right now.”

She had a feeling Jane already knew about Martin’s offer of protection. “Maybe the guy isn’t after me specifically. It could be that he was out looking for a victim, and there I was.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Jane said, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I just came out of a top-level meeting. The tribe is considering requiring you to accept protection, at least for a while.”

“If anything else happens, I’ll accept, but I think it’s too early to make that decision.” Holly paused then added, “Do you know if they have anyone in particular in mind as my bodyguard?”

“At first they considered Arthur Larrabee—the ex-policeman. He works for us on a contract basis, and could have fit it into his schedule. He also has the skills to keep you safe, but he’s been taken off the list.”

“Why?” Holly was curious, but not unhappy.

“This is all off the record. You’ll keep it confidential?”

Holly nodded. “Sure.”

“Arthur’s former girlfriend, Megan Olson, has disappeared, at least according to her relatives. Arthur and Megan dated for a while, then recently split up. There’s nothing to indicate that Arthur’s got anything to do with her disappearance, but Arthur’s a person of interest because he was supposedly one of the last people to see her,” she said. “Her family’s influential and they’re demanding answers. It’s just politics, but Martin has decided not to renew Arthur’s contract with us. He doesn’t want any negative publicity spilling over onto us, not right now.”

“That explains why Martin didn’t press me harder to accept the offer of protection this morning. He normally doesn’t give up so easily.”

“Your real problem is that you’re too independent. You don’t want anyone telling you what to do and when.”

“Am I that transparent?” Holly asked with a rueful smile. “No, don’t answer that.”

“Regardless of what you want, if there’s another incident, the tribe will insist that you accept their offer of protection. We need you right now. My advice is don’t fight it.”

“Nothing else is going to happen,” Holly said, hoping that was true, and stood. “Right now, I need to get some materials ready for the upcoming job fair in Hartley. The plant is ready to hire additional staff to work here and out in the field. I’ve also got to study my notes and get another presentation ready for a new group of investors.” Holly checked her watch. “Time for me to head over to my office in Hartley.”

Chapter Five

Holly was soon on her way, driving down the long graveled road toward the main highway. As the road stretched out her thoughts drifted to Daniel. He seemed like a force of nature, always active, even in stillness. He clearly didn’t take challenges lightly, either.

She’d seen the spark of competitiveness in his eyes when Larrabee had entered the room. Of course Larrabee had more than his share of machismo, and even in nature, alpha males clashed. Some things were just hardwired into the species.

Holly was halfway to the highway when she saw the fast rising plume of sand and dust behind her. Her skin prickled even as she told herself to relax. She wasn’t likely to be the only human being leaving the plant, even between shifts. Someone was just in a hurry to reach the highway. She couldn’t afford to overreact every time she saw a person traveling in the same direction she was.

Realizing how isolated she was out here, she decided to play it safe. Holly took the next right, moving toward a new Rez housing area. She’d expected the vehicle behind her to continue directly to the highway, but it took the same turn she did and continued following at a distance.

Holly made a few more random, last minute turns down residential streets where there were more homes than vacant lots, but the vehicle remained on her tail, taking the same turns.

Her heart began beating overtime. There was no way she could go to her office in Hartley now and lead whoever was back there right to her door.

Holly tried hard not to give in to panic, but the possibility that this was the same guy who’d attacked her at the coffee shop was terrifying. What if he already knew where her office was, or where she lived?

She pushed back her fears, forcing herself to think clearly. If this was the same guy, she needed to get a description without further endangering herself. She considered pulling over as soon as she rounded the next curve in the road and waiting for him to pass, but then changed her mind. That was too risky. If he was really stalking her, he’d likely stop, as well, and then what, shoot her? Trying to force the other driver into making any kind of move at all wasn’t a good idea, and if she headed back to the plant, any hope of catching him would fade away. He’d be stupid to follow.

Then it came to her. What she needed was backup. The tribal police department was badly undermanned, and getting a patrol cruiser to her location could take hours. There was only one other logical option. Holly used her Bluetooth and called Daniel. He answered a moment later and Holly quickly told him where she was and what was happening.

“Keep driving through that residential area and stay on the phone. I’ll be there in a few minutes to back you up. If he closes in, find a house where you think someone’s home and run for the door.”

“All right.” As Holly continued circling, the other driver stayed with her.

“He’s still there and keeps his distance whether I speed up or slow down,” Holly said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “He knows I’ve spotted him. Why doesn’t he take off?”

“Get back on the plant road so I can catch up to you sooner. I’m not too far from your current location, maybe three minutes. Once I have you in sight I’ll let you know. Keep the phone line open.”

Three minutes later, Holly spoke again. “I’ve turned onto the plant road, heading north toward the highway. I’m about a quarter mile from the three-way intersection before the big arroyo, the one with the irrigation ditches on either side. There aren’t any other vehicles around except for the guy following me. The oncoming lane is clear.”

“I’m at the top of the hill and can see you now,” Daniel said. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

Following his directions precisely, Holly sped up, then, just before the intersection, swerved into the incoming lane. Braking at the last possible second, she cut to the right and slid in the gravel, blocking the road.

Her heart was beating overtime as she looked over her right shoulder and saw the oncoming sedan. He’d have to leave the road and drop into the ditch to get around her now. Or ram—

“Stay in the car,” Daniel said, almost as if reading her mind. “I’ve got him.”

The driver following her slowed. She could see him behind the wheel now, but he had a cap low over his eyes, and sunglasses. As he headed straight for her, her mouth went completely dry and her heart began to pound. Slowly, he veered to his right, apparently hoping to slip around the front of her truck.

Holly let off the clutch and inched her pickup forward to close the gap. Ducking down, she gripped the steering wheel hard. If he crashed into her, her air bags would deploy and those, she prayed, would keep her from getting hurt.

Holly heard sliding tires, flying gravel, and braced herself. There was a thump and rumble, but the crash never came. As she peered up Holly saw the sedan flash by in her rearview mirror.

The guy had faked her out, cutting behind her pickup and dropping a tire into the ditch. His car fishtailed, gravel flew, then picked up speed again.

“He got past me, Daniel,” she said, speaking into her Bluetooth. “I can back around and try—”

“No. Just get out of your truck. When I come by, jump in and we’ll go after him together,” Daniel said.

Holly climbed out, keys and phone in hand, and waited as Daniel eased past her truck. When he slid to a stop in the middle of the road, she raced over and jumped into his SUV.

“Seat belt,” Daniel ordered, already on the move as she reached for the buckle. Once he heard the click of the buckle, he pressed down on the gas pedal and the force threw her back into the seat.

They were hundreds of yards behind the man now, but the terrain was pretty flat and he was still within sight.

“I called the tribal P.D. as I was running for the SUV. With luck, they’ll have a roadblock set up along the highway,” he said, giving her a quick once-over. “You okay?”

“Yeah. All I have to do now is stop shaking,” she said with a quick smile.

“You’re doing fine. You kept your cool and are safe. Now let’s go catch him.”

Daniel’s SUV slid around a corner at high speed, but remained in control. Although the car ahead was raising dust like never before, they were still gaining ground.

“He’s not headed for the highway anymore,” Holly said. “That road just circles back to the housing development.”

“Yeah, I know. Hang on.”

They closed to within a hundred yards, then suddenly the sedan ahead hit its brakes, swerved and slid onto a narrow irrigation ditch road. On one side was a steep drop to a fence line, and beyond, a fallow field. Opposite it was a deep but empty irrigation ditch.

“Why take the ditch road?” Holly asked. “If he goes any faster now, he’ll lose control and maybe flip the car.”

“I’ve never gone this way. Do you know where it leads?” Daniel asked, concentrating on his driving. The dirt road was narrow and bumpy, and if he hit a big rock or a fallen branch, they’d wreck for sure.

“It makes a ninety-degree turn up ahead, intersects the highway, then picks up again on the other side,” she said. “There’s a culvert underneath the road.”

“He’s likely to be T-boned if he tries to cross the highway.”

“Or take out some innocent driver. He’s going as fast as he can,” she said.

“Yeah, good point. I’d better slow down. Maybe he’ll back off the accelerator, too, if we stop closing the gap. We can’t risk getting somebody killed,” Daniel said, looking over at her as he took his foot off the gas pedal. “Damn. Wish I had a siren.”

Holly nodded.

The highway was just ahead, and through gaps in the trees lining the road, she could see cars racing past, unaware of the oncoming danger.

Gripping her seat, her eyes fixed ahead, Holly saw the driver hit his brakes at the last second, slide sideways and lean on the horn. The sedan slid out into the asphalt, all the way into the inside lane.

The loud squeal of brakes rose into the air as a big delivery truck skidded into view from the left. Blue smoke from hot rubber and screaming brakes flew everywhere like a cloud. The truck slid sideways, then slowly tipped over onto the passenger side and slid another hundred feet. Sparks flew like fireworks as metal raked the asphalt.

Daniel braked to a stop, skidding but still maintaining control. Cars to their left slammed their brakes, fighting to slow down to avoid hitting the truck.

Holly looked down the road to her right and watched the man who’d come after her disappear to the east. “Luck always seems to be on his side,” she said in a shaky whisper.

Daniel jumped out of the SUV, then, noting that the oncoming traffic had come to a stop, raced over to the delivery truck and helped the driver open his door, like a hatch, and climb out.

Another driver had parked his pickup, flashers on, and was already trying to guide traffic around the blocked lane. Holly escorted the man from the wrecked truck to the side of the road, then waited as he contacted his employer.

Soon the wail of a siren rose in the distance and Holly could see flashing emergency lights coming from the west, in the direction of the reservation town of Shiprock. While she was watching Daniel and the other driver direct traffic, her cell phone rang.

“What’s going on?” Martin Roanhorse asked. “I heard someone was tailing you.”

She updated him as she watched a white tribal police department SUV weave its way around stopped cars and over to the scene. “Whoever was following me is long gone,” Holly added, “and his license plate was covered, maybe with tape. It’s a dead end.”

“That settles it. I want you and Daniel back in my office as soon as you’re free.”

Holly hung up and slipped the phone back into her jacket pocket. Her hands were still shaking, but her fear was slowly giving way to anger. She’d never purposely harmed anyone in her life, yet for some unfathomable reason, a very crazy person was coming after her. If he was hoping she’d panic and do something stupid he was in for a surprise. This wasn’t her kind of battle, but she was a fast learner.

Her gaze drifted to Daniel, who was talking to a uniformed Navajo officer. Soon the officer nodded, and Daniel came over to join her.

“I just got a call from Martin,” Holly said. “He wants to see both of us.”

“Ready when you are.”

As they drove back to the plant, Daniel glanced over at her. “Martin can be hard-nosed about security matters. Don’t be surprised if he downgrades your clearance until this matter is settled.”

Surprised, she stared back at Daniel. What he’d said was logical, but until now, she hadn’t even considered that disastrous possibility. If Martin restricted her access, she’d be unable to continue her work at the facility. In essence, she’d lose the account, and at the worst possible time. Every cent she had was tied into her fledgling company. She couldn’t afford to forfeit a contract.

She’d been worried about being forced to accept protection, but that no longer seemed like such a bad alternative. Holly took a deep breath. Part of her job entailed persuading people to open their minds, and that’s exactly what she’d have to do now. Her livelihood depended on it.

Chapter Six

Daniel dropped Holly off in Martin’s office. “I’ve got something I need to do. I’ll catch up to you in a few minutes.”

She nodded, her eyes still on Martin, who was finishing a phone conversation. “I’ll be here.”

He watched her a moment longer. The incident had rattled her more than she’d admitted, but he had no time to dwell on that now. While still at the accident scene he’d received a call from his brother, Detective Preston Bowman of the Hartley Police Department.

He’d known all along that his brother would eventually investigate the incident with Holly since it had happened on his beat. So when Preston had insisted they meet for coffee at the plant, he hadn’t hesitated.

As Daniel went into his office, he saw his brother was already there.

“You made good time,” Daniel said.

“I had a meeting at the tribal police station. I was in the area.” Preston gave his brother a long, thorough inspection. “You look beat.”

“No, just angry.”

“I received the report detailing the assault on Holly Gates.” Preston studied his brother with a laser-sharp gaze. “Be careful, Dan, you can’t just jump in every time somebody needs to be rescued.”

“This is just business.”

“You sure? From what I’ve already heard here and there, she’s a looker.”

Daniel refused to make eye contact. He hated the way Preston could read him so easily.

“The woman works here. I’m just lending a hand.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sell that to someone who doesn’t know you.” Preston sat on one of the chairs and waited.

“So what did you want to see me about?” Daniel asked, refusing to sit. He stared at a painting of Shiprock on the wall, wishing he had a window to distract him.

“Just wanted to know how things are going. Gene’s staying at your place?”

“Yeah, for now. I’m glad he took the job of taking care of the paperwork associated with Hosteen Silver’s trust. The old man had nothing except for the house and cabin, but there are still a million things that need to be handled.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Paperwork—it’s never ending.” He paused for a long time, then stood and walked over, putting his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “We need to get this woman out of your head for a minute and talk family.”

“She’s not in—” Daniel said, looked at Preston, then shrugged. “Okay, yeah, maybe a little.”

“Gene told me about the note Hosteen Silver left in the safe-deposit box. I thought those final request letters Hosteen Silver left each of us would be it, but obviously I was wrong,” Preston said, taking a seat again. “Do you still have a copy of the note?”

“Yeah. The original’s still in the box. Have a look,” Daniel said, then pulled it out of his pocket. “I’d like your take on this.”

“This is the story about Changing Bear Maiden, Coyote’s wife, but there’s a question mark over the entire text,” Preston said. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why save and protect such a well-known account, and more importantly, why the question mark? To Hosteen Silver these weren’t legends—they were a way of explaining the world. Everything had its purpose.”

“I think he was trying to send us a message, something he wasn’t quite sure about, that only we should see. Unfortunately, I’m drawing a blank,” Daniel said.

“Me, too,” Preston said at last, handing it back.

“It was left there for a reason,” Daniel said.

Preston nodded. “I agree. We’ll have a family meeting once everyone’s home and figure it out together. In the meantime, keep thinking.” Preston walked to Daniel’s coffeepot and found it empty. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a cup of coffee around here?”

Daniel reached for the doorknob and cocked his head. “Come on.”

They walked down the hall, side by side, then Preston poked Daniel in the ribs. “Can’t wait to meet this Holly woman, Dan. She’s got you all turned around inside.”

“Yeah, right,” Daniel muttered as they approached the small coffee bar at the cafeteria.

Preston shot his brother a look and chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You’re going down, bro.”

HOLLY SAT IN Martin’s office, searching her mind for a way to convince him. The fixed look on his face told her she had her work cut out for her.

“Your problem is a lot bigger than I originally thought,” Martin said. “The person after you is persistent enough to pursue you in broad daylight. That could end up affecting security here at this facility.”

“Nobody can say for certain that today’s incident was related to what happened outside the café last night,” Holly said. “More important, it didn’t happen here.”

“I’d like you to consider taking a leave of absence. We need your services, but not if there’s any chance that you pose a risk to operations at this plant.”

“You offered me protection this morning,” Holly said, looking over at Daniel, who’d come in just moments ago. “Is that still on the table?”

Martin nodded slowly.

“Then let me take you up on that now. In addition, I’ll ask the security officer to teach me how to defend myself,” she said, but, out of the corner of her eye, saw Daniel shake his head. “Also, I’ll have them recommend locks and safety devices I can use in my home and car.”

“Forget the self-defense lessons. You can’t fight this type of assailant on your own,” Daniel said, his voice calm. “You’d need months of training to be able to neutralize his size, strength and height advantage—not to mention experience.”

“I’m not advocating a long, drawn-out, hand-to-hand battle. All I’d need to do is break loose so I can get help,” Holly said.

“You won’t need combat training if you have security with you at all times, but I like the rest of what you proposed,” Martin said. “It’s a done deal.”

She breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least she still had a job.

“Security is meant to keep you safe, not restrict your work. It’ll be easier on you if you remember that,” Martin said, leaning back in his chair and regarding her for a long moment.

“I will,” Holly answered. “And I really appreciate what you’re doing.”

“As I’ve said before, we need your help here. You deal with the demands of our culture as easily as you do your own. You remember that we don’t shake hands, and in fact, we dislike touching strangers. When you’re speaking to our traditionalist elders, you show respect by not using their proper names. You avoid direct eye contact and you don’t press for quick answers. Most important of all, our investors come from all over the world, and you honor both their ways and ours by maintaining harmony. By protecting you, we’re helping restore the balance that helps all of us walk in beauty.”

“It’s good to hear that my work’s appreciated. Thank you very much,” she said.

“As of right now, I’m assigning Daniel to you,” Martin said. “He’s our best.”

“Just so I’m clear,” she said. “This is only a temporary arrangement until the police catch this lunatic, right?”

“Of course,” Martin said. “Once the threat is gone we can return to our standard on-site security protocols.”

For Martin, it had been purely a business decision, and she had to admit it made sense. Yet having Daniel as her bodyguard posed a danger all its own. He was high-voltage excitement, a walking temptation to anyone still drawing breath.

She nodded, knowing Martin was watching her reaction. “Okay, then. Daniel is familiar with the situation so he and I will work things out together.”

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