Blue Jeans and a Badge (14 page)

Philip figured the thieves must have lowered their booty down that way, most likely using ropes and pulleys. It was impossible for them to have gotten those boxes to their hiding place any other way. Segura agreed. But he needed to go through channels for the 'copter.

Philip arranged to meet at the airstrip outside of town a bit after noon.

Meanwhile he had one very antsy Luce to deal with. Something was up. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. She kept looking around as if she wanted to get away from there. From him.

“You're not still entertaining thoughts of leaving?” he asked point-blank.

She blanched.

Ah. So that was it. She'd been planning to take off this morning, but the robbery had foiled her. That's why she'd shown up at the motel scarcely fifteen minutes after he had.

His heart squeezed. But he was fresh out of options. If she wanted to go so badly, he couldn't stop her.

Not unless he told her about the condom. That could buy him time.

But did he want that kind of time? First and foremost he wanted her to stay because of her feelings for him. Feelings he knew she had for him.

But she was afraid to face them. Afraid even to acknowledge them. Definitely afraid to act on them.

There was only one way that would happen. She had to get over whatever it was in her past that haunted her, robbing
her of her ability to be happy where she was. He suspected it was her abandonment as a baby. Which would also explain why she was so reluctant to deal rationally with the Maria Hidalgo situation.

“Come on,” he said, and took her by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

He led her to the Harley, unhooked the extra helmet he'd bungied to the back seat and handed it to her. “Put this on.” He slammed on his own, got on the bike and fired it up. “Hop on,” he yelled over the blam-blam-blam of the engine. Amazingly, she obeyed.

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see. Just hold tight.”

She did, and he took off, barreling down the highway. She screamed at the first knee-scraping turn. She didn't fight him, but he could tell she was scared because her arms trembled as they dug into his midsection, hanging on for dear life.

Good. He wanted her scared. Wanted her to be forced to trust him. To depend on him for her very life.

Then she'd see. He wouldn't let her down. Wouldn't let anything hurt her. That she didn't have to be afraid of him, or her feelings for him. He'd keep her safe. He'd keep them safe.

He drove and drove. High into the mountains he took her, winding through the lush, towering evergreen forests and the still-leafless aspen groves with their white-barked skeletonlike branches reaching for the perfect, cloudless sky. Patches of snow remained on the shady northern slopes, and he was grateful they'd both worn their heavy jackets against the cold.

About the time they reached Bobcat Pass, he could feel Luce start to relax. Instead of crowding stiff against his back, her body became more fluid, part of him, part of the bike, and all three moved as one. He smiled.

Suddenly she put out an arm and pointed. A group of five
or six whitetail deer popped their heads up from a meadow as they roared past. He gave her the thumb's-up. And for the next half hour, they both enjoyed the ride.

Just ahead he spotted their destination.

“Hold on tight!” he yelled again, because she'd let her grip on his waist loosen as she gained more confidence.

“Why?” she yelled back.

“Trust me, baby,” he yelled. “Stay with me!”

Then he dropped the bike into a diving right turn, skimming his boot along the pavement to prevent it from skidding out from under them. He let out a whopping rebel yell and Luce screamed, but by the time they straightened up again, she was laughing at the top of her lungs.

“You are nuts! You are a crazy man!” she exclaimed when he pulled into the parking lot and let her jump off. But she was grinning and still laughing gleefully.

“What's the matter, bounty hunter? Chicken?” He made chicken noises at her, flapping imaginary wings.

Her jaw dropped along with her helmet and she came after him. “I'll show you chicken, lawman.”

Instead of running, he grabbed her and swung her around, her attack dissolving into giggles and hugs. So naturally he kissed her. And kissed her again. And then a little more, for good measure.

“That's better,” he said, holding her close. “That's how I like my bounty hunters. Feisty and sassy. Exciting and sexy. And not thinking about leaving me.”

“Oh, Philip,” she sighed, at once becoming more serious. “I don't know what else to do.”

“Stay,” he simply said.

“You know I can't. We've been through it before. We're too different. And I'm—”

“Chicken.”

This time there was no laughter. Her expression was heartbreaking. “Maybe,” she murmured.

Well, he thought, a breakthrough at last.

“Come with me,” he said, and wrapped an arm around her. “I need to tell you something.”

He started walking, past an old Huey helicopter dramatically posed in a nose-down crash position. Not a statue. The real thing.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around for the first time, noticing the 'copter and the white ski-slope-shaped chapel.

“The Vietnam Veterans National Memorial.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Seemed appropriate for what I have to say.”

She didn't comment, but gave him a puzzled glance before returning it to the incredible scenery around them. A chilly, whistling breeze blew past them. She shivered.

“Cold?”

“No. It's just…eerie here. Almost haunted.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. The souls of all those lost men. Lost in more ways than one… And the souls of all those they affected when they didn't come home. Or did.”

He pulled her down on a bench overlooking the sweeping vista. She turned to him. “Your dad was in 'Nam?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And he came back in one piece. We thought, anyway. But the war never really ended. Not for a lot of those men, my dad included.”

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “It's a long story, but several of the guys in his unit ended up settling in Inyo County, where my family is from. It was conservative enough there that Vietnam vets weren't looked down on, or called baby-killers, like in so many other places. Dad was elected sheriff a couple years after his return.”

Philip remembered the victory celebration. American flags everywhere, his mom carrying his little sister—a homecoming baby—and Philip as proud as a six-year-old could possibly be. He'd seen enough John Wayne movies to
know his daddy was a real war hero. John Wayne didn't talk about his experiences, either.

“Anyway, those men were not okay. They got into drug dealing, illegal poaching and God knows what, all because they couldn't readjust to normal society. My dad was involved, too.”

“Ah. That's what the big scandal was. The one that made you leave California. When
you
were sheriff and it was all discovered.” She watched him for confirmation.

“Yep.” He took her hand and held it between both of his. “But I don't regret the scandal, or leaving California.”

“What about the woman you lost?”

“What?” He frowned. “Oh, her. No, she ended up with the right man. The son of one of the guys in the unit—the one who paid the highest price for that war.” He shook his head. “But that's a different story.”

“Then what is it you regret?” she asked.

“I regret the waste. The utter waste of so many human lives. And I don't mean just the ones who died. The ones who survived, too, but couldn't shake the experience. Couldn't leave the past behind because it was too horrifying and painful to forget. That's what I regret. The past ruling those men's lives so fully they couldn't live in the present, affecting those all around them, too. Wives, kids…”

“Oh, Philip, I'm so sorry,” she murmured.

“Don't be. When I got on that Harley and rode away from Inyo County, I made a vow to myself. My past would always be a part of me, it's what made me who I am today, but from that day forward, I was going to live in the present, not dwell on things I couldn't change.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I feel a lesson coming on here,” she whispered.

He gave her a genuinely sympathetic smile. “You didn't go off to war, but your past is no less painful for that.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and kept them there for a long
time. Then he whispered, “Don't let your pain blind you to your future, Luce.”

He felt her breath hitch and looked down into her beautiful blue eyes. One lone tear escaped her lashes and trailed down her cheek.

“How?” she quietly asked. “How can I do that?”

“You can't change the past, but you can deal with it. Go and meet the Hidalgo and Santander families. Get a DNA test. Find out if you were that missing baby or not, and then move on.”

L
uce thought about what Philip had said all the way back to Taos, where they stopped for a meal since neither of them had eaten all day. And on the ride back to the Piñon Lake airstrip, and again on the helicopter trip out to Abiquiu and the ruins.

She'd never been in a helicopter before, but she hardly noticed the incredible views or the stomach-flipping maneuvers the pilot made, first to get a look at the cliff dwellings, then to spot the thieves' offload point without whipping up the dirt with the propeller blades and obliterating forensics.

Captain Segura was obviously ecstatic about the whole find. “I can't thank you enough for reporting this,” he told them, pumping both their hands as he dropped them at the airstrip before heading back to meet the crime-scene team he'd sent for from Kirtland. “Thanks to you we're going to catch these bastards and hopefully shut down some terrorists. You two saved a lot of American lives today.”

Luce's chest swelled with pride, but as soon as he was
gone and she turned to Philip, everything came rushing back at her.

He stood, hands in his pockets, scraping the ground with his boot heel. “So,” he said, “what's it going to be, bounty hunter?”

She knew exactly what he meant. “Jeez, Philip. I can't just go barging into the Hidalgo and Santander homes and say, ‘Hi, I'm your long-lost niece,' or whatever.”

“Why not?”

She rolled her eyes. “It's not that easy. They'd—”

“Philip?”

A young woman approached them, all perky and brunette and petite.

“Suzy?”

“I'm sorry to interrupt—” she flashed an apologetic smile “—but I thought I should tell you something strange I found.”

“Luce, this is Suzy Kendall, secretary at the Soffit and Dickson Law Offices that were robbed last week. Luce is helping me track down Clyde Tafota,” he told the petite woman.

“Oh! That's great! Anyway, I don't know if this is important or not. But you know how everyone thought the motive for the robbery was the missing money, even though of course Jim had nothing to do with its disappearance?”

“Yes, I remember,” Philip said patiently.

This must be the sister of the guy in jail, Luce thought.

“Well, I was going through some business today, and I realized there are several files missing from the locked cabinet. I looked everywhere. They're gone.”

That got both their attentions. “Files?” Philip asked. “Which files, exactly?”

“They were all related to some old case we were handling against Hidalgo Industries.”

Philip froze. “
Hidalgo?
Do you know what was in them?”

“Years ago, Mr. Dickson was supposed to defend a Hidalgo accountant who was accused of embezzling and also
stealing inventory. The man claimed to be innocent. The missing files contained financial records and some old memos from a company vice president, supposedly clearing the man.”

“Did it ever go to trial?”

“Apparently the accountant died before it could. Car accident or something, Mr. Dickson thought.”

“Are there copies of the files? Maybe saved on disk?”

Suzy shook her head. “Sorry. This case was really old. Before they had computers.”

“Okay.” He looked thoughtful. “Thanks, Suz.”

“Anytime, Philip.” The brunette gave him a dimpled smile and wiggled off.

Luce set her jaw. “I thought you arrested her brother.”

“What?”

“Never mind. What do you think it means?”

“God knows,” he said. “Probably nothing. Everything's so incestuous in these small towns, Hidalgo Industries being involved may mean nothing. Or everything. Unfortunately, it's impossible to know without seeing those files.”

“You think Clyde took them?”

He stared at her. “Why would he do that?” He put up a palm. “I know, I know, why would he be doing
any
of the things he's been doing?”

“This case is getting crazier and crazier.”

“Tell me about it.” He drilled a hand through his hair. “We need to sit down and go through everything. Make a chart. There has to be something we're overlooking. Let's go back to my place and talk.” He started walking toward the Jeep.

She balked at the suggestion, but he didn't even notice. His mind was obviously back on the case.

Aw, hell.
She hurried after him.

“What about the bike?” she asked as he unlocked the Jeep.

He glanced at the Harley, then at her. She saw just when he remembered all that other stuff.

“It's okay. I'll stay long enough to take the DNA test,” she said quietly.

“Good. I'm glad.” He looked genuinely happy. “I'll call Ted. He can run it as part of the old murder case.”

She exhaled and nodded. Then she came around and took the keys. “I'll drive the Jeep to your place. You take the bike.”

He touched her cheek. “I'll help you through this, Luce. Whatever happens, I'll be there for you.”

“I know.”

She pulled back, afraid she'd throw herself into his comforting embrace. Afraid, because if she did, she didn't think she could ever pull away again. It would be too easy to let him take care of her, let him make everything right.

But she had to do it herself. Or lose herself in this whole process.

“Thanks,” she said. And despite everything, meant it. “Now let's go figure out what the heck is going on with Clyde.”

The crime-scene guys had come and gone in her room, so Philip made her pack all her things to take with them to his house.

When they arrived, he put her suitcase in his room. Her heart pounded with the implications.

For him things were settled. She was here. She was his. He'd staked his claim, and if she disagreed she'd have to be the one to argue against it.

Did she want to? Lord, she didn't know.

She didn't know
what
she wanted. She didn't know what to do.

She sat on the sofa and stared at the flames dancing brightly in the fireplace while Philip puttered in the kitchen for a few minutes while talking on the phone. To Ted, no doubt.

Oh, God help her get through this. All of it.

After he hung up, the phone rang again, and he talked for another few minutes.

“That was Captain Segura,” he said when he walked into the living room. “They caught a guard at the ruins when they went back. They're close to making a deal to get him to spill his guts on the military-theft ring.”

“That's great.” At least all their efforts weren't in vain. But… Suddenly she realized it must have been the guard she'd heard at the ruins, not Clyde.
Oh, no.

Philip sat down beside her on the sofa. “I bought you a present.” He eased a small package between her laced fingers.

She looked up in surprise. “Another present? But when?”

“In the restaurant in Taos. While you were in the rest room. I saw it and thought… Well, you'll see.”

She tore open the plain wrapping on the small box. “Oh, Philip!” It was a Santa riding a red chile, hanging by a loop of gold twine. She laughed. “A New Mexico Santa! It's so cute. Thank you!” She gave him a big hug, touched more than words could say. He always knew exactly the right thing.

“To remember me by. Just in case…” He rolled his shoulders.

Her heart squeezed. “I'll treasure it forever. I'll treasure
you
forever. No matter what.”

“Let's have some coffee,” he said, rising. “And try to sort through this mixed-up mess.”

She brought the Santa ornament with her. She didn't want to put it down. The jolly old grandfather with his laughing face always cheered her, no matter how miserable or uncertain she was feeling. And this one had come from the man she loved. She kept it pressed safely in her palm, clinging to it like a talisman.

They had to find the plane. It was her only option.

As they sipped through the entire pot of coffee, they went over everything they knew about the case—or cases—and how it all fit together. Which wasn't much, and what there was didn't make much sense. There were still too many
coincidences and not enough facts solidly linking them. The only thread running through everything seemed to be Hidalgo Industries.

“Here's what I think,” Philip said. “The theft of the Hidalgo chips was also perpetrated by the people who hid their stolen loot in the box canyon. Probably someone in the theft gang works for Hidalgo, or somehow knew about the Beechcraft plane's mechanical difficulties. That way they could be on the alert, and ready to steal a shipment at a moment's notice if it broke down again.”

“That would make Clyde our prime candidate,” she said.

“Yeah. I'm afraid it does. When the plane made its emergency landing, the airport supervisor called Tafota to come fix it, since he's Hidalgo's regular mechanic. He could have tipped them off.”

“We need to find out if those chips were part of the cache.”

“I already asked Captain Segura to let me know when the inventory's finished.”

“Good. So if our theory's correct, if we find the plane, hopefully we'll find Clyde, or at least his trail. Time's almost out on this retrieval,” she said in frustration, especially now she knew it wasn't Clyde at the canyon.

“But how to find the plane?”

They sat for a few minutes staring into their coffee cups, Luce rubbing Santa's tummy in her lap, hoping for inspiration. “What about those faxes and e-mails you sent? Have you heard back from anyone?”

Philip looked up. “Damn!” He jumped from his chair. “What with everything else, I've forgotten to check my e-mail.”

Five minutes later she read the third reply he'd gotten on his inquiries over his shoulder. As he scrolled down, her excitement mounted.

“My God,” she said. “This could be the plane!”

“Sure sounds like it,” he agreed. He smiled over his shoulder at her. “Shall we take a ride?”

 

The e-mail message had been sent by the old codger who took care of a private airstrip used by a few very wealthy families who owned luxury cabins up in the mountains outside of Taos. Philip only knew about it because he'd given a ride to a vivacious redhead who'd vacationed at one of those cabins a couple of years back, whose private plane had left from the strip.

Come to think of it, the Hidalgos were one of the families who owned a cabin nearby. Could this have been the cabin where Peter Santander was shot? He'd have to check with Ted.

The old codger who e-mailed thought he'd seen a Beechcraft King Air like the missing Hidalgo plane. It had circled the airstrip a few days back, but he wasn't certain it had landed, since nobody had called him for the gate key.

“I sure hope this is the break we've been waiting for,” Philip called out the window as Luce closed the third cattle gate they'd encountered on the dirt track up to the airstrip.

“I'm going to be very upset if I've climbed through all these cow patties for nothing,” Luce groused, gingerly hanging the loop of barbed wire back over the primitive gate posts as he'd shown her to do at the first gate.

He chuckled. “Just think if you'd still been wearing sneakers.” He grinned as she slid back into the Jeep, scraping her boots on the running board. “Hey, watch the hardware. This is an official police vehicle, y'know.”

“And I'm your official police deputy, as I recall. Though I never did get that badge you promised me.”

“Oops. Guess we'll have to—
Holy c-ow!”
He swore roundly, and swerved the Jeep off the road, coming to a teeth-grinding halt. “I think we've found our plane.” He pointed to the wreckage of a small prop plane mostly hidden beneath the canopy of pines.

“Oh, my God.” Luce zipped out of the Jeep at a run. “It crash landed!”

He took off after her. “Luce, don't! It could be unstable!”

They both stopped a few yards short of the bent and broken fuselage. It didn't look good. The nose was crumpled and the windscreen shattered, both wings shorn off by the impact with pine trees.

“It must have hit a treetop taking off or something.”

“Where's the airstrip?”

“About half a mile farther up the road. Wait here,” he said, and started to pick his way through the underbrush toward the wreckage.

“Not on your life.” She was right behind him when he saw the body. Stiff and chalky white, skin already flaking. Dead.

“Aw, hell.”

“Is it Clyde?”

“Yeah.” He put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “
Damn
it. What did he think he was
doing?
”

He felt her arms go around him from behind and her cheek press against his shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Philip” she murmured. “I know you wanted to clear him. I never dreamed we weren't finding him because he was…dead.”

Thinking of the man's family, Philip pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead and swore. “How does a man go this bad this fast? I don't understand what was driving him.”

“We still don't know he was bad,” Luce returned. “He might have been forced or blackmailed.”

“Yeah.” He jetted out a harsh breath. “I suppose.”

“We should check the hold. See if the shipment is still in there.”

Luce was right, of course. On both counts. “You stay here. I'll poke my head in where the wing ripped off.” He gingerly approached the plane and peered around inside. “Empty,” he said. “So what does that tell us?”

“Someone else must be involved.”

He nodded. “There could have been a second person in the plane who survived and got away with the shipment.”

“Maybe the shipment was already gone when Clyde took the plane.”

“Or someone deliberately brought the plane down and took it.”