Kitabı oku: «Stargazer's Woman», sayfa 3

Max’s voice was low and smoky, a hunter on the prowl. Yet in the confines of the car, it also seemed to hold an air of intimacy. She glanced over at him, then focused back on the road. Smoldering. That was the one word that best described him. So much lay just beneath the surface….

“You must really have some connections if you rate the tribe’s top attorney,” she said, mostly to see his reaction.

Max raised an eyebrow, then his lips curved in a wicked smile that made her breath catch in her throat.

“No answer?” she probed, refusing to let him get to her.

“As I told you, we have allies.”

She pulled into her parking slot at the nursery. “I don’t know what to make of you, Max,” she said, honestly, “and I like to know the people who are by my side when I’m fighting. Overseas, the enemy generally didn’t bother to differentiate between a combat unit and noncombat one. Knowing and trusting the people I was with kept me alive.”

“I hear you.”

He held her gaze for a second or two and she felt the impact of that look all through her body. Liars were usually polished, but there was a roughness to Max, an edge of raw masculine power that made her want to trust him.

“Your sister was a good judge of character,” he said at last. “You know that. If you trusted her judgment, then you should also trust me.”

She could almost feel the layers of secrets that surrounded him. “Let’s take this one step at a time,” she answered, then pointing ahead, added, “Does that have anything to do with your connections to the tribal president?”

Two Navajo men were working quickly to change the damaged tires on Max’s truck. She recognized the name of the company on their jackets, too. It belonged to a nationally known racing team based in Farmington.

Following her gaze, he smiled. “Like I said, I have friends.”

Again, a nonanswer. “I’m going to go talk to my staff and explain that I’ll be away for a few days,” she said.

“This operation may take much longer than that,” he warned, opening his door.

“I’m optimistic,” she answered.

“Go do what you have to, but hurry. We can’t afford to hang around for too long. We’re going to be under surveillance by the cops and the bad guys.”

“All right. I’ll meet you here at my truck in five minutes.”

He shook his head. “You’ve got a great truck, but mine has a few extras that could come in handy. Bring your Beretta along with you, too, and the extra clips.”

Kris watched him stride off. He was in superb physical condition…like an active duty soldier. In a way, maybe that was exactly what he was. What made Max Natoni even more dangerous was that underneath all the mystery that surrounded him beat the heart of one ultra sexy man.

Chapter Four

The Navajo man tightening lug nuts with an air hammer glanced up as Max approached. Turning the task over to his associate, a younger Navajo man who appeared to be just out of high school, he took Max aside.

“Thunder, Hastiin Bigodii wants an update,” he said quietly.

Max looked at his cousin, Ranger Blueeyes. Under other circumstances, he would have greeted him as family, but an operation was underway and security procedures were required. The man before him now was simply Wind, just as he was Thunder—not Max Natoni.

Max told him about the voice he’d heard during the kidnapping attempt. “They were both wearing masks, but I’m one-hundred-percent positive that one of the men was Harris.”

“John Harris is supposed to be dead. The authorities concluded that he drove over a cliff a few days after the theft of the platinum.”

“The charred body found in the wreckage of Harris’s car couldn’t have been Harris’s because he was here this morning, trying to kidnap the woman and me.”

“Then it looks like we’ll have to operate under the assumption that the man is still alive, no matter what the police have been led to believe. I’ll pass that information along. Is the woman going to be a reliable asset?”

He knew what Wind meant. “I don’t know her well enough yet to answer that. Her sister once told me that they were alike in all the ways that mattered, that there was a bond between them. But whether she’ll be able to second-guess my old partner is something that remains to be seen.” He sighed. “What complicates matters is that she doesn’t really trust me. She’s been trained to look past the surface. She’s got an intelligence background in the military, so she’s skeptical of halfway answers.”

“Do whatever you have to do to get her complete trust.”

“I’m working on it.”

“If you’re right about Harris being alive—”

“I am,” he interrupted.

Wind nodded. “Then he’ll come after her again. We’ve suspected that Harris had—has—a partner on the inside, so he probably already knows about the note. That could explain why she’s become a target—and an asset that’ll have to be protected.”

“I haven’t told her about Harris being alive, but she knows she’s in danger. She’s chosen to stay with me, but with her skills and training, she’s more than capable of looking after herself.”

Wind nodded. “Maybe so, but she’s still an asset and it’s our duty to guard her. The body count is high enough already.”

“Harris killed my former partner. He won’t touch this woman, not while I’ve got breath in my body,” Max growled.

Wind nodded once. “I’ve got a source in the County Sheriff’s Department. He said that Lassiter warned the woman—marine to marine—that your current activities are suspect.”

“That could damage any seeds of trust that may have started to develop.”

“Then handle it quickly, Thunder.” Wind looked around for a second, then continued. “Have you tried…really tried…to use your gift? That could simplify things, stargazer, and put a quick end to at least one of the problems we’re facing.”

“I’ve tried, but nothing happened,” he admitted.

“So I’m working on this case the only way I know for sure works—dealing with reality, not metaphysics. I’ll get results.”

Wind shrugged, then turned off the air compressor and began to help his assistant put the tools away.

Seeing Kris coming in his direction, Max went to meet her halfway. “Are you ready?” He looked at the oversize purse she was carrying—big enough to conceal her pistol.

She nodded. “I’ve done all I can do here for now. We need to plan our next move. How about if you take me to the exact spot where you and my sister first came under fire? Then I’d like you to go over every detail with me.”

He nodded. “I plan to take you there and talk you through it, but first we need to shake off any possible surveillance.”

“As soon as you’re sure we’re not being tailed, I’d also like to stop by my place so I can pick up a few changes of clothing. You can keep watch.”

He drove down the highway in silence. Somehow he’d have to find a way to convince Kris that even though he guarded more than his share of secrets, he was worthy of her trust.

As the miles stretched out before them, he thought of Tina. “Your sister died doing the work she loved, Kris. She liked living on the edge and the job fit her like a glove. That may not be much consolation to you right now, but it will someday,” he said somberly.

“Is that what keeps you in your line of work, the lure of danger?” she asked.

“Partly, yeah,” he admitted. “I’d die by inches in a nine to five. But it’s more than that. By working to restore the balance, I make a difference. That’s the most any of us can ask for.”

“I still don’t understand your relationship with my sister. Neither of you was in the police force anymore, so how did you end up working together on this operation?”

“After she went freelance, I’d throw work her way as often as I could. I trusted her and she trusted me. In our line of work that’s all that matters.”

“Was there anything more between you other than work?”

“No,” he answered flatly. “Not that your sister wasn’t interesting or attractive to me.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d have to give Kris some glimpses into who he was as a man if he wanted her to trust him. “I’m not one for involvements, and neither was she—at least by that point in her life. If you’re envisioning some sort of unspoken romantic attraction like you see on those TV cop shows, forget it. We stayed professional.”

He paused, then grudgingly answered the question he could see still mirrored in her eyes. “Did I ever think about having a physical relationship with her? Sure I did. She was tempted, too, on occasion. If it hadn’t been for our jobs, who knows what might have happened.”

Kris got what he was saying. Tina had liked to keep work and play separate. Yet her sister had also often enjoyed uncommitted physical relationships with men. In that particular way, she and Tina were vastly different. Her heart would have to be engaged before anything serious could happen.

“Your sister’s first love was her work and no matter what else you may hear, she died trying to complete her assignment. Before I’m through, everyone will know the truth, too. You have my word. It’s a matter of honor—hers and mine. Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly. It was their mutual love and respect for Tina that bound them now. “At the moment, the note’s your best lead, and I’m going to do my best to help you figure it out. With luck it’ll also lead us to the ones responsible for her death.”

They soon approached a familiar intersection and Kris sat up and pointed. “I live a short distance down that road.”

“We can’t stay long,” he said, following her directions. “Pack quickly.”

“After we leave my place, then what?” she asked.

“We’ll go see a few people I know.”

“I’m going to need more than that. I won’t go into any situation blindly, no more than you would,” she said, her voice firm. “I’d really like to trust you, Max, but you’ve got to give me a reason.”

He understood her perfectly. He didn’t trust easily, either. In that one way they were kindred souls. He glanced over at her. She was an incredibly attractive woman. A man could drown in those pale golden eyes. But what drew him to her went beyond that. He liked her code of honor and her loyalty to the people who mattered to her. Any man would be proud to have a woman like Kris by his side.

He stared at the road ahead, then continued. “Let me start by telling you something you don’t know. I believe the man who killed your sister—John Harris—is still alive. I can’t prove it, mind you, because I never saw his face, but he was one of the men who came after us at the nursery.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” she demanded. “This changes everything. If Harris pulled the trigger and the police aren’t even looking for him, I’ve got to do everything in my power to find him and bring him in. He’ll have the answers I’ll need to clear my sister’s name. Harris is the answer.”

“If I’m right, Kris, and he’s alive, you won’t have to go looking for him. He’ll come after us with everything he’s got. That’s why he didn’t care if I heard his voice. He intends to kidnap and force us to find the platinum for him. Then once that’s done, he’ll kill us.”

“Let him come,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “If he wants a fight, let’s give him one he’ll never forget.”

Chapter Five

A short time later they arrived at her home, a faded green wood-framed farmhouse surrounded by an ancient apple orchard. He recognized Tina’s car beneath a wooden carport, gathering dust.

Though he didn’t say anything, it surprised him that Kris and Tina had moved in together. Tina had been a tough cop who showed the scars of coming face-to-face with the worst of human nature on a daily basis.

Kris, on the other hand, was cast from a different mold. Although she’d gone into what was one of the toughest branches of the military and had served a tour in a war zone, there was also a softer, gentler side to her. Despite the rigors of her former job she’d held on to that side of her nature, too. It was that duality that drew him to her, tempting him to cross the line.

Moments later, they entered the small home via a screened-in porch with a swing and several hardy-looking plants that seemed to be flourishing.

The floor of the old house was wood, the planks in good shape but worn down by decades of footsteps along the most common paths, especially through the doorways. It was simply decorated, with yellow curtains covering the white double hung windows, wallpaper in tiny yellow and blue flowers, and a braided oval rug in the center.

The living room held only a large leather sofa, matching chair, and a mosaic coffee table. There was one painting on the wall of a young girl watching horses grazing. It was done in earth tones and, under the light from two tall floor lamps, had an almost mythical quality to it.

“I recognize the painting,” he said. “Your sister showed it to me last year after she finished it—or at least a photo of it from her cell camera. She had a real eye for capturing people, though she never took herself seriously as an artist.”

“That’s because she never wanted it to become work—something to produce, sell or buy. Painting was her way of relaxing,” Kris explained.

When she turned to look at him, he saw something else was weighing heavily on her. He waited for her to tell him what it was, but she hesitated, then turned and walked down the hall.

“I’m going to the bedroom to get my things,” she called out to him a second later, never glancing back.

“Hurry,” he said, moving over to the window to keep watch.

KRIS THREW SOME JEANS, changes of underwear and a few long-sleeved T-shirts into a small canvas bag. She could pack in a hurry. She’d done it so many times it was almost second nature to her.

She was still angry with Max for not telling her about Harris long before now. He was too good at keeping secrets, and that made him dangerous—ally or not.

She took a deep breath, then let it out again. Anger would only interfere with what they had to do. It was a luxury she couldn’t afford, not when their lives were at stake.

She stared at the bag, then on impulse packed her duck-shaped slippers. They were undeniably silly looking, but they had a soft shearling interior that felt incredibly indulgent. She’d had them for years and they never failed to make her sigh when she slipped them on after a long day. Although she doubted she’d have occasion to wear them around Max, the slippers were her way of affirming that her life would be normal someday.

“Are you ready?” he called out from down the hall.

“Let’s go,” she said, coming out to meet him.

As they were getting into his truck, he glanced over at her. “I know you’re still trying to decide whether to trust me or not, so I’d like you to keep something in mind. This is my turf, Kris,” he said. “You’ve been away for several years and some things around here have changed, but I know this area like the back of my hand. Who and what I am can give us an edge—but you have to be willing to rely on me and my judgment. Any hesitation on your part may get us both killed.”

“You’re still not telling me everything. I know it and you know it.” She held up one hand, stemming his protest. “Do you trust without reason?”

Max expelled his breath in a hiss as he started the truck’s engine. “Okay. Good point. Both of us will have to work at this,” he conceded.

“Your job’s to get the platinum. I want Harris. That may place us in opposite camps somewhere down the line.”

“Things have changed so you have nothing to worry about. I can’t risk leading Harris to the platinum, so he’s now my priority, too.”

As soon as they were back on the road, heading west toward the Navajo Nation, she shifted in her seat. “Harris wants us, so why don’t we use that to draw him in?”

He considered what she’d said and nodded. “That’s a good plan, but we’d need some serious backup close by.”

“We can manage it as long we cover each other’s back.” Seeing him hesitate, she challenged, “I can handle it, can’t you?”

Her words were brave enough, but as he glanced over at her hands he saw her toying with her necklace. “No one’s made of steel,” he answered quietly.

“And here I thought you were,” she teased with a hesitant smile.

He laughed. “Me? Nah. I just put on a good show, that’s all,” he said, eyes twinkling. “It’s a survival thing I learned as a cop.”

She laughed, knowing better. She’d seen him in a crisis situation. Although he felt pain and bled like everyone else, he had that toughness of spirit that defined a warrior.

“Hang on. I want to make sure we haven’t picked up a tail,” he said, suddenly making such a sharp turn off the highway that she had to grab onto the seat.

Max drove down the wide dirt road leading toward a tribal housing development, then made several detours and reverses. Finally they reached a solitary road parallel to the main highway. They were heading east again now, but the land was so flat and barren here they would have seen any vehicle attempting to follow them.

Twenty minutes later, he finally got back on the main highway. Traffic was heavy now, with many vehicles heading home at the end of the work day.

“Keep checking behind us,” he said. “There’s no one there now, but doesn’t mean there couldn’t be.”

“I’ll handle that. You take care of what’s in front of us,” she answered. “It’s going to be dark in an hour or so. Where are we going?”

“Remember that souped-up van Harris and his partner were driving? I thought we’d go talk to people who specialize in those kinds of modifications. We need the type of shop that doesn’t ask too many questions or keep regular hours. I have a source who might be able to tell us who fits the bill around this area.”

After a short drive to the eastern outskirts of Farmington, Max pulled up into a parking slot outside the fenced-in garage that housed Birdsong Enterprises. A big garage bay was open, and several mechanics in blue overalls were working on a highly modified stock car behind another fence.

“What is this place? I see security cameras everywhere, and that fence must be twenty feet high.”

“They don’t advertise their location, but a relative of mine, Ranger—you saw him back at your nursery—works for the Birdsong Racing Team. This is their local headquarters,” he answered.

Ranger, wearing coveralls with “Blueeyes” embroidered above the pocket, came through the gate in the interior fence to meet them as they stepped out of Max’s truck. The men nodded to each other but didn’t shake hands.

Without preamble, and possibly because she was standing right there, Max asked Ranger about local performance shops with dubious reputations.

“The closest of these shops is a few miles farther down the highway, just outside Bloomfield, across the road from the cemetery and adjacent to the Wildcat Drilling Company’s yard. The shop has a really bad reputation among serious independent repair shops, especially when it comes to their sources of used and rebuilt parts. The guy who owns it, Jerry Parson, has gotten busted several times for possession of stolen property. He seriously hates cops, so watch yourself.” He cleared his throat. “A few months ago, some poor jerk tried to offer Parson some stolen headlights. He got mistaken for a cop and ended up on the banks of Farmington Reservoir, naked, unconscious and beaten half to death. He refused to press charges, but the story got out anyway.”

Max nodded. “That’s undoubtedly what Jerry wanted—the PR.”

“You’ve heard of him?” Ranger asked.

“Sure, back when I was a police officer. But I never met him. Good thing, considering where I’m going next.”

“There’s a guy inside our shop who knows Parson well enough to give you some up-to-date background. You might want to talk to him before you set out.” Ranger glanced at Kris. “It would be better if he went in alone, Ms. Reynolds. Joe won’t say much around people he doesn’t know.”

“No problem,” Kris answered, wondering how long ago Max had told Mr. Blueeyes her name.

MAX WENT INSIDE THE GARAGE. In an adjacent bay were two mechanics working on a high-performance carburetor. When he got closer, Max recognized one of the Navajo men, a warrior he’d previously known only as Smoke. His last name, embroidered on his work overalls, was Yazzie.

“I needed to get you away from the woman, Thunder,” he said as Max joined him. “I have a message for you from Hastiin Bigodii. He recommends that you concentrate on Harris first, then the platinum.”

“I agree. That’s why our current plan is to draw him to us, make the collar, then worry about the recovery.”

“Hastiin Bigodii also wanted me to remind you that if you need backup, help won’t be far.”

“Understood.”

Smoke then handed Max a newspaper photo of Harris, not so much for him, but for Kris. Judging from the background it had probably been taken during the Police Athletic League’s charity baseball game a few years ago.

Thanking him, Max walked back outside. Kris was already seated in his truck when he opened the door and slipped behind the wheel. “You understand the kind of place we’re going into, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. Otherwise I’d have suggested we stop for dinner first. I’m starving, but I’d hate to get into a fight on a full stomach. I’m assuming we’re liable to get jumped once we start asking questions, right?”

“That’s the way I see it, but don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“I’m all ears.”

After he filled her in, she said, “Okay. Let’s go for it.”

He was really beginning to like her. Instead of inundating him with questions about his plan, she was willing to play things out and roll with the punches. Before switching on the ignition, Max reached under the seat for his gun, removed it from the holster and stuck it into his waistband. It was uncomfortable there, but a holster was something a cop would have, not an amateur thief.

They were underway a short time later. Then less than a mile away from the shop, they stopped on a deserted road. Taking water from a bottle he had behind the seat, he prepared some sticky mud and smeared it over the plate, partially hiding the numbers and letters.

“This should work with our cover as amateurs,” he said.

“Do these kinds of places—like the one we’re going to—close at regular hours?” Seeing the surprised look he gave her, she added, “You know, to blend in.”

“If they’ve got cars to work on, they’ll be there.”

A drilling company yard, with its stacks of drill casings and other heavy gear, nearly hid the old, converted gas station. They saw a cemetery and funeral home across the highway but almost drove past the garage before seeing the small sign that read Power House.

Max pulled in quickly and parked in front of a battered tow truck. Two sedans, probably belonging to the mechanics, were parked on the west side of the building, and a large blue pickup was on the east side.

There were four bays, one of which was open to the street. Two men were working on an old sedan, one gunning the engine while the other took a look beneath the hood. They could see shelves of auto parts taking up the far bay, and two more men were removing the tires from another sedan up on a lift.

“Here we go,” Max said. “It’s show time.”

As they wandered toward the open bay, Max placed a casual arm around her shoulders. A spark of desire rippled through her from the close contact between their bodies. She pressed herself against his side, enjoying the warm sensations, and smiled at him.

“Making it look good as ordered,” she whispered.

“I need to talk to the owner,” Max yelled to one of the men, trying to be heard over the machine gun rattle of the air hammer being used to remove the car wheel nuts.

An overweight, heavily tattooed man wearing a dingy white T-shirt came out of the office area, looked at Max, then gave Kris the once-over.

“Nice set of wheels, man,” he said, glancing at the truck. “But we don’t have parts for something like that.”

“Not looking for parts, dude. I came to sell it—cheap,” he said.

“Before the owner finds out, I’m guessing?” the man surmised, then gave Kris a longer look this time.

“If your ole lady is nice to me, we might still be able to cut a deal.”

“Watch your mouth,” Max growled.

“Just playing with you, dude,” the man said, putting his hands up in the air. “But tell me, what makes you think I’d be interested in a hot truck?”

“Hot? Hey, I just can’t find where I put the papers, and I need some cash, you know? A guy I know said you’d do business without a bunch of questions, so how about five thousand? Cash,” he added. “Heck, you could get twice that for the parts.”

Max got a look at the last vehicle in the garage, a van that could have been the twin of the hopped-up job John Harris had used. He stepped forward for a closer look but the tattooed man he figured was Jerry Parson blocked him.

“You looking for a fight?” Max challenged, his gaze cold as granite.

The man laughed. “Hey, ease up, dude. Jerry’s the name. That’s all you need to know.” He looked out the bay door at Max’s truck. “You’re offering me a good price,” he said, considering it.

“That price is only good for someone who doesn’t need any paperwork, or have any more questions.”

“A few questions come with this deal. Gotta watch my own back,” Jerry said.

Max suddenly realized that he couldn’t see Kris anymore. Instinct told him that he had better keep Jerry’s attention focused. “You’re starting to sound like a cop now…. Wait a minute. Are you fronting for them? You wired?” he demanded loudly, looking around at the other employees.

As he moved around, feigning panic, he caught a glimpse of Kris inside the small office.

“Cops?” Jerry laughed loudly. “Us? Get serious!”

Max decided to enhance his paranoia up a notch.

“That John guy, the one who was driving that same van earlier today,” he said, pointing. “He’s the one who sent me here. Bet he’s a cop. Am I right?”

Kris reappeared at the side door near the office, and one of the mechanics spotted her immediately. She held up a half-eaten candy bar, smiled at him, then held it out to him. “Wanna bite?”

When the guy grabbed her by the arm instead, and pulled her close, she backhanded him with the knuckles of her free hand. Then, in a fluid follow-up, she reached down and pinched the nerve in his free hand, forcing him to his knees. Squealing with pain, he let go of her arm.

“They’re the cops, boss,” the man yelled, stepping back and giving her plenty of room. “See those moves?”

“Ex-marine, butthead,” Kris shot back. “Every lowlife who tries to paw me gets the same treatment.”

Jerry blindsided Max with a jab to his ribs, nearly knocking him down. “They’re just screw-ups, not cops,” he answered, then stared hard at Max. “I don’t know any Harris, and that van’s a repo. You trying to jerk me around?”

Max stepped back and pulled out his pistol. “Back off!” he ordered, waving it around so everyone could see.

“Okay. You’re cops,” Jerry spat out.

“Wrong, Jerry,” Max answered. “Which means you’ve really got a problem now. You shouldn’t have ticked me off.” He motioned for Kris to join him, then handed her his gun. He then grabbed Jerry, spun him around, and took the small pistol and holster he’d seen earlier at the small of the man’s back.

“Keep everyone here, honey,” he called out to Kris.

“I’m going to see if they’ve got some cash we can take along—payment for our time.”

“There won’t be a hole deep enough for you to crawl into,” Jerry growled.

“Go ahead, call the cops—if you want these photos sent to their Web site.” Max used his cell phone and took photos of the garage, making sure to include every vehicle. “I’m willing to bet that a lot of this stuff’s hot. And those license plates over there,” he said, continuing to take pictures. “Where do they come from, anyway?”

Max rushed into the office seconds later. It wasn’t hard to find Jerry’s desk. There was only one. Pulling out the top drawer all the way, he checked inside, then looked below for anything taped to the bottom, but came up blank. What he needed was something—anything—that would give him information about whoever had sold Jerry the van.

He checked the desktop computer, trying to get into the software programs but it required a password, and he didn’t have the time. He thought about removing the backup disk but discovered it wasn’t there. Looking around, he discovered a DVD taped to the bottom of the middle desk drawer.

Max smiled, satisfied. He took the disk quickly and replaced it with one from the full box on top of the side table. Unless Jerry checked its contents, chances were he wouldn’t discover the switch.

The entire process took less than three minutes. Grabbing all the cash in the box, Max hurried to join Kris, who still had his pistol aimed at the men. None of them had moved. Standing in front of Jerry and the others, Max split the bills into two stacks. He put one stack in his pocket and dropped the other on the floor. “Keep half, Jerry. I’m fair.”

Not turning his back on the men, Max made his way to the truck, holding Jerry’s pistol and covering Kris. At the last second, Max tossed Jerry’s gun onto the flat roof of the garage, well out of reach.

They jumped into his truck almost simultaneously and raced off. Max kept glancing back in the rearview mirror as he continued down the road, then turned into a residential area, circling around so they’d be hidden from the highway. At long last he slowed, then stopped in front of a house with a For Sale sign that appeared unoccupied.

Kris brought a disk out from inside her blouse. “I’ve been trained to turn disadvantages into advantages. For example, if I’m outnumbered—they’re slower, and I’m more mobile. With that in mind, I stepped into the next room, got a candy bar as cover and then snuck into the office. I didn’t have a lot of time so I took the DVD that was in the computer—probably their backup disk.”