Eagle's Last Stand (14 page)

Donnie smiled. “No argument there.” He stood. “Gotta go back to work. I hope you find the answers you need.”

After a quick lunch, they climbed into the SUV and Rick dialed Kyle and Preston. Pressing the conference call button, he told them about his conversation with Atcitty.

“By the way,” he said before ending the call, “do either of you know what happened to the rest of the books that were on the bookcase when I moved out?”

“You think the code’s in one of those?” Preston asked almost immediately.

“It’s a possibility. That’s why I’ve got to track them down.”

“Call Gene,” Preston said. “He took quite a few of Hosteen Silver’s books. He also made a list of the books we donated to the high school library.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Rick called Gene immediately.

“I did take them, and read quite a few, but I didn’t keep them here. I stored them in a metal chest at the old cabin,” Gene told him, referring to the place where he and Daniel had first lived when Hosteen Silver fostered them.

“I’ll go up there and take a look. Spare key still under that flat rock?” he asked.

“Didn’t think you still remembered after all these years,” Gene answered.

“Hey, I love that place. I spent two weeks up there alone one winter break, remember?”

“I remember you burned up all the firewood,” Gene recalled, chuckling.

After ending the call, Rick glanced at Kim. “I’d like to go right now. Any objections? The cabin’s an hour west of here and north into the mountains. All in all, a very rough ride.”

“Let’s do it.”

He started to switch directions when his phone rang.

“Mr. Cloud? My name’s Larry Blake. I got your number from Donnie Atcitty. I’m calling about your father.”

Chapter Fifteen

Rick arranged to meet Larry Blake and a friend of his, Victor Pete, who’d also seen Hosteen Silver that last day. The site of the meeting was to be the parking lot of a well-known trading post just off Highway 64, a few miles inside the Navajo Nation. Just to play it safe, Rick had asked Bidtah to run a background check on the men. Both had come up clean.

The drive took them about twenty minutes. As they pulled off the highway into the parking lot, they saw two men standing beside a pickup parked to one side of the lot. One man, an Anglo, was leaning against the truck bed, holding a can of soda in his gloved hand. The second man, a Navajo around five foot nine with a barrel chest, sat on the lowered tailgate, smoking a cigarette.

Rick pulled up and parked. “Stay alert,” he told Kim.

“You’re thinking it was too easy?”

“That, and I just don’t like the looks of these guys.”

“Oil and gas field workers are known for being tough. It comes with the job. I’ve met a few hard cases myself at the Brickhouse,” Kim told him.

“All the more reason to be careful,” Rick responded, stepping out of the SUV.

“Rick?” The Anglo came toward him and extended his hand. “Larry Blake. Victor and I gave your old man a ride that day. I remember because it was as cold as hell and he was just walking down the side of the road, real casual-like, his hair blowing in the wind.”

A long silence stretched out, but Rick didn’t interrupt. Anglos often felt uncomfortable during long pauses in the conversation and would begin talking just to fill the silence. He’d gotten his best leads that way over the years.

“From what I recall, he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing,” Larry said. “When I asked him where he was headed on such a crappy day, he said he had some unfinished business. He asked us to take him as close to Big Gap as we could. That being several miles from the highway, in the middle of nowhere, I advised him to let us give him a ride home instead. It was getting stormy, and whatever business he had would wait until tomorrow, but he just shook his head.”

“Where did you drop him off?”

“It was near one of the old oil wells about a mile from the highway in the Navajo Field.”

“Show me.”

“It’s about forty-five minutes away, south of Shiprock, but Victor and I worked the graveyard shift, so we’re done for the day.”

“Good. I’ll follow you,” Rick said.

They rode east through the town of Shiprock, then south and west to an area filled with low hills and pines.

Rick followed Larry’s pickup down a long, narrow, graveled road.

“What’s bothering you?” Kim asked, no doubt picking up on his mood.

“I don’t remember any oil wells this far off the highway. That’s not to say there weren’t any, because drilling has picked up in the past few years. Still, we should be watchful.”

The road quickly deteriorated to nothing more than a few ruts across the desert. Ahead of them, the men in the pickup were bouncing around but refused to slow down. “It doesn’t look like the oil companies ever did any drilling around here, or we would have seen some capped wells,” Rick said. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

Just as he finished speaking, the truck ahead came to a stop. There was a wide arroyo ahead, blocking their way.

“Maybe they took a wrong turn,” Kim suggested. “It’s been a few years.”

“Let’s see what they have to say,” Rick answered, climbing out of the SUV. Kim followed.

“Guys, sorry, I think I’m lost,” Larry said, stepping out of the pickup. “This arroyo shouldn’t be here.”

“It happens,” Rick said, shrugging. “Want to give it another try?”

Just then Victor came around the truck. He’d put on mirrored sunglasses and now had a pistol in his hand. “Bring out your weapon slowly, with your left hand, and drop it on the ground.”

Rick, knowing he’d never be able to draw his pistol in time, did as he was asked. Silently, he noted that Larry didn’t appear to have a handgun, though there was a long hunting knife in a sheath clipped on his belt.

“Now step back ten feet,” Victor ordered, waving the barrel of his pistol back and forth.

Larry came forward, picked up Rick’s weapon and stuck it into his waistband.

“Those sunglasses.
You
were the one who pushed the kitchen wall of the Brickhouse down on us,” Kim said to Victor.

“Finally put that together, did you? You two are really hard to kill. I cut the gas line, blocked the exits, and you and the others still managed to get out without even a blister before the place went up in flames. Then I buried you under a ton of bricks and you tunneled your way out like prairie dogs,” he said. “This is your third strike. Nothing personal, though. Larry and I are just the hired help. We never even met your old man.”

“You plan on killing us, I get that. So why don’t you tell us who’s behind this?” Kim asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Victor answered. “Word got around at a cockfight up near Bloomfield that some local had enemies he wanted put down. I needed the money, so I stepped up and called the number. The voice was altered, but I said I’d do the job. An envelope was left for me at a drop site and inside was half the payment, photos and instructions. The party popper under the SUV was something special we added to the mix just to mess with you. Bet you jumped when it went off.”

Rick ignored the comment. “So my foster father never came this way. It was all a con?” he asked, slowly moving away from Kim and edging closer to Victor. If he could take Victor’s gun away from him, Kim could fend off Larry before he pulled his weapon. He’d seen her hand-to-hand skills.

“Once I heard the company security guy asking for help over the radio net, we made up stuff to draw you in.”

“If anything happens to us, he’ll know it was you,” Kim pointed out.

Larry laughed. “Hey, all we have to say is you never showed up. And when nobody finds your bodies...”

Victor motioned with his pistol. “Enough talk. Walk over to the truck, slowly, hands away from your body. Don’t try anything that’ll get you killed before your time.”

Larry reached the truck first and, bringing out two shovels from the bed, tossed them on the ground. “Pick them up and start digging.” He pointed to the arroyo. “Find a soft spot if you want. The hole’s got to be at least four feet deep and let’s say six long.”

“You want us to dig our own graves?” Kim demanded, sounding more outraged than scared. “Forget it! Dig them yourselves.” She tossed the shovel down into the arroyo, then stepped back.

“Go get it—now!” Victor swung his handgun around, waving it at Kim.

Wielding the shovel like a bat, Rick connected with the pistol. Victor screamed in pain and the weapon went flying.

Larry looked down to grab Rick’s pistol, which he’d tucked in his waistband, but Kim was already on the move. She dived at the man, who looked up in surprise, tried to dodge, then dropped the gun. Kim grabbed for it in midair, but missed and ended up knocking it into the arroyo.

Rick swung at Victor with the shovel again, but the guy blocked it with his arm, howling with pain. The handle broke and the shovel slipped from Rick’s grip.

Victor reached down to his boot, no doubt for a backup pistol, but Rick, seeing the opening, attacked. With his left hand, Rick pinned Victor’s neck, swinging him around toward Larry and using the man as a shield.

Rick reached down for Victor’s small handgun, slipping off the safety with his thumb as he yanked it from the ankle holster and raised it toward the man.

Larry had managed to grab Kim, and now had the tip of his hunting knife next to her neck. “So what’ll it be, Indian? Can you kill me before I cut her throat?” To make his point, he pressed the point of the blade into her neck until a drop of blood appeared.

Kim tried to lean away from the knife. “Take the shot!”

He should have done it. He was an excellent marksman. Yet the risk to Kim made it impossible for him to shoot. “I’m not letting your pal loose, or allowing you to walk away, either, Larry. Think hard, because you have one chance to live. If anything happens to her, you’re next.”

Kim suddenly went limp, collapsing out of Larry’s grasp. As Larry tried to grab her, Rick squeezed the trigger. Larry fell to his knees, then onto his back, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Victor elbowed Rick in the gut, twisting around and reaching desperately for the pistol. As the weapon fell to the ground, Rick knocked Victor back with a stiff arm to the chest.

Rick turned for a brief second, trying to catch sight of the pistol, and then realized Victor had picked up Larry’s knife.

This was one fight Rick had hoped to avoid. He wanted to take this guy in alive.

Victor slashed at him with the big blade, but Rick feinted left and dodged right, keeping his arms up to block any jab or sweeping motion.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rick saw Kim pick up the pistol. Before she could fire, Victor rushed Rick, jabbing the blade toward his gut.

Rick sidestepped, slipping outside the motion, and grabbed Victor’s extended knife hand at the wrist and twisted. The man screamed in pain as bones cracked.

Rick kicked the man in the gut, then pushed him to the ground, overpowering him with a choke hold that quickly rendered Victor unconscious.

Rick rolled Victor so he was facedown and put his knee on the man’s back. He looked over at Kim, who was now aiming the pistol at Victor.

“Find something to tie this guy up,” he said, never easing his hold.

She looked into the back of the pickup and brought him a jumper cable. “No rope, but this should do.”

After Victor was secured, Rick stood and quickly looked her over. “Are you okay?” Seeing the spot of blood on her neck, his gut tightened.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” she said, dabbing at the puncture wound with her hand. “It’s already stopped bleeding.”

Rick called Bidtah next and quickly filled him in, giving him directions and GPS coordinates. As soon as he ended the call, he looked back at her. “We’re going to wait here for the tribal cops. Do you need to sit?”

She pulled down the pickup’s tailgate and took a seat. “For a moment or two I thought that was it for both of us. Why didn’t you take the shot?”

“I didn’t have a clear line of fire,” he said.

“Yet you were able to hit the exact spot you were aiming at while he was moving. When he had the knife at my throat, he was basically still, a much easier shot,” she said.

“I couldn’t risk hurting you,” he said, grasping her shoulders and looking squarely at her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She shook her head. “Talk to me. Help me understand you,” she said, her voice unsteady for the first time.

“I care for you, Kim, more than I should. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, but you should run away from me. Go as far and as fast as you can. The man you see before you—that’s only half the picture.”

Before she could respond, they heard sirens coming up the road from the highway. He moved away from her. “That’ll be Detective Bidtah and the Crime Scene Unit. They’ll have a lot of questions, so get ready.”

* * *

B
IDTAH
AND
R
ICK
stood aside, watching the Navajo M.E. and the other crime scene specialists work with the body.

“This is one of the cleanest shootings I’ve ever seen. One head shot, small caliber, instantly fatal. That’s some marksmanship,” Bidtah said.

“A necessary skill in my last occupation,” Rick answered.

“We’ve got the deceased’s address and we’ll check out his place. I’ll let you know what we find. We’ll also be questioning Victor Pete at length. Preston will be present when we do,” Bidtah added.

“Good.”

Bidtah looked over at Kim, who joined them after having her small puncture wound photographed for the record. It had already stopped bleeding.

“If you’re through with us here, I can take her to Copper Canyon and clean off her wound,” Rick said.

“Go. I know where to find you,” Bidtah answered.

As they walked back to the SUV, Rick caught a flicker of light coming from just beyond the highway. He hurried with her to the vehicle.

“What’s going on?” she asked as they got under way.

“Someone’s watching from that stand of cottonwoods we passed on the way in,” Rick said. “It might just be a curious passerby who saw the tribal police and decided to take photos to post on the internet.”

“Or not. You going to tell Bidtah?”

“Yeah, but I also intend to check things out for myself.” He slowed, brought out his cell phone and called Bidtah.

Several seconds later Rick ended the call and looked over at Kim. “He’s sending one of his officers.” He brought out his pistol and placed it on the seat between them. “You up to this again, so soon?”

“You bet. Let’s go.”

He smiled. He loved her spirit.