Eagle Warrior

Morgan looked up at him with big wide eyes and in that moment she didn’t look much older than her ten-year-old. He wondered two things simultaneously. How old had she been when she’d had Lisa and who was the bastard who left her all alone?

He gave Morgan a smile as he passed and belatedly noticed he had a bloody hoodie.

He knew the young officer who’d arrived first and directed him to the intruder. The next one he sent to speak to Morgan and Lisa.

“Tell her I’m her neighbor. I live right there.” He pointed at the house behind hers.

“I thought you lived in Pinyon Forks,” said Officer Cox.

“Looking after a friend’s place for a few days while he’s away.”

Ray waited a few minutes for Jack to arrive. It didn’t take long to tell him what he’d learned.

“He might press charges,” said Jack.

Ray shrugged and made a hissing sound of dismissal. “So?”

Jack left it at that. He spoke to Morgan and her girl and oversaw the removal of the crying mess that Andrew Peck had become as his dreams of riches turned to the real possibility of jail time.

Peck went into a police unit and Jack waved Ray over to make introductions. Morgan stood with an arm resting protectively on her daughter’s narrow shoulders. Lisa stayed close and very still, watching them.

“Ms. Hooke, this is an old friend of mine, Ray Strong. Ray and I served together in Iraq. I’m sure you have met him at some point. We were only a year ahead of you in school.”

Jack didn’t mention that Ray had dropped out and had to take his GED in order to join up with Carter, Dylan, Jack and Hatch.

The awkward pause coupled with Jack’s scowl made Ray realize that Jack wanted him to chime in.

“Oh, yeah,” said Ray. “Nice to see you again, Morgan. Long time.” He rubbed his neck and glanced to Jack who lifted his chin as if silently ordering him to continue. Ray hated small talk. “I’m staying in Felix’s place while he’s away.”

Morgan’s expression brightened and she glanced toward her neighbor’s house.

“Felix Potts? He told me he was going to Waco to visit his daughter and the new baby. It’s her third.”

Her voice was musical, like a flute, full of light air and sweet tones.

“Oh, yeah,” said Ray, his skin prickling now. “Isn’t that something?”

Ray’s customary position with women was that they either turned him on or they didn’t. If they did and they liked men with a bad reputation, and a surprising number did like that, then they were off to the races. Now he found himself in the awkward position of having to chat with a woman he had no intention of sleeping with.

He knew enough to stay clear of single mothers for a lot of valid reasons. And beyond that, it was a bad idea to mix work and play.

“He didn’t tell me you’d be watching the place,” said Morgan.

Because Kenshaw had called Potts after he’d left to ask if a fellow Turquoise Guardian could stay in his place. The answer, of course, was yes.

“Well, I’m watching it but he’s helping me out. I lost my place recently so...” He looked to Jack to take over. Because he was terrible at making stuff up. Not at lying, he was very good at lying, convincing to a fault.

Morgan held her smile and she now did look beautiful. The pause stretched and her smile faded.

“Ray is a hotshot,” said Jack. “One of our captains.”

Morgan looked impressed and well she should. Their forest-fighting team was nationally recognized and much requested. They flew all over the country battling blazes. Seemed the Apache men were good at fighting anything, including fires.

Morgan gave Ray a long, speculative look and he could almost feel her gaze like a caress. His skin tingled and his palms began to itch. That wasn’t good. Now he was staring at her mouth and his gaze had become speculative. Her lips and cheeks seemed especially pink.

She cleared her throat and he met her curious expression with a grin. That grin had gotten him into more trouble than his fists. Her brows lifted as if reading the vibe he was sending and not knowing what to do with it.

“He’ll be back next week. Will you be staying on when he comes home?” asked Morgan.

Ray squinted, wondering how to play this. “I need to find a place. I’m looking around.”

Her gaze swept over him and he wished they were alone. He thought of Morgan’s bed and imagined her stretched out naked on that the white coverlet. Clearly the sexual part of his brain had re-emerged. He shifted his position at the unwelcome ache that began below his belt.

“You were in the casino today,” she said.

And yesterday and the day before that, he thought.

“Guilty,” he said.

“Did I get you a drink?” she asked.

“No. I just come in to watch...”

Her frown deepened.

He grinned wider. “To watch the games on the big screens.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks went bright pink.

Shame on her for making assumptions, he thought.

“Baseball,” she said and smiled, the tension easing out of her shoulders.

Her daughter wiggled out from beneath her mother’s arm to take a step closer to Jack. She was staring up at the detective who was six-five in his stocking feet and now wore boots. If she didn’t quit she’d get a crick in her neck.

“Are you Apache?” she asked him.

Ray’s gaze shifted to Jack whose mouth went tight. Most folks didn’t come right out and ask, but Lisa was ten and ten-year-olds were as blunt as dull axes.

“Yeah. Sure am. Roadrunner Clan. You?”

Lisa was still eying the mountain of a man that Jack had become. He looked more Samoan than Apache and it was a constant sore spot for Jack.

“I’m Butterfly Clan,” said Lisa. “Why was that man in our house?”

Ray watched Morgan to see what her reaction might be and found her looking as curious as Lisa. Had working in that casino taught her to bluff or was she in the dark?

Was it possible that her father had not told her about the money?

He had other questions, chief of which was what in the wide world had Karl Hutton Hooke done to receive a bank check for two hundred thousand dollars with his name written on it?

The answer seemed obvious. Her father had been paid to kill the Lilac Copper Mine Gunman. That meant that Karl Hutton Hooke was a hitman and whoever paid him had not wanted the mass gunman to stand trial. It also meant that there was a whole mess of money missing.

Jack escorted Morgan back inside and together they checked the house. Only her father’s room had been disturbed, but Andy had even gone so far as to slice the pillows and mattress.

“What a mess,” Ray said from the doorway.

Morgan directed her question to Jack. “What was he looking for, Detective Bear Den?”

Chapter Four

“Not sure what he was looking for, Morgan,” said Detective Bear Den. “Did your dad have anything of special value?”

Both Jack and Ray watched Morgan who seemed to be considering the question while lightly rubbing her fingertips over her lips. The small gesture sent an unexpected shot of longing straight to Ray’s groin.

He lifted his brows in surprise. He didn’t go for this sort of woman, the “attached with child, daughter of a murderer who might be involved with some very bad people” sort. But there it was, Ray Strong making the worst possible choice, as usual.

His attention now became speculative. What kind of a woman was Morgan in bed?

“He had some of those state quarters,” said Morgan. “Turquoise jewelry. Not a lot.”

She convinced Ray. If he was a betting man, and of course, he was, he would say dear old Dad had forgotten to tell his girl that he’d had a payday that might just get her and her daughter killed.

They all moved inside and gathered in the kitchen in a loose circle between the dinette and the worn Formica counters.

“You have somewhere you can stay tonight?” asked Jack.

Morgan drew Lisa in beside her, and her daughter hugged her mom around the middle. Morgan stood in bare feet still wearing the cocktail outfit that looked garish in the drab little kitchen.

“Lisa could stay at her best friend’s. The Herons live right next door. But I... I think I’d better stay here.”

“You have someone to call, maybe help you clean up?” asked Jack.

“I can help,” said Ray.

Morgan’s face scrunched up in a way that told Ray that he was less than smooth in her eyes.

“That’s not necessary,” she said, her smile all tight and dismissive now. That made Ray want to remind her who had removed the vermin from her house.

“I’ll have an officer escort you and Lisa to the Herons’,” said Jack.

Jack left them and called from the door into the yard. Ray clasped his bloody hands behind his back and gave Morgan a half smile that he hoped made him look less threatening. Jack returned with a young man that Ray knew.

“Ms. Hooke, this is Officer Wetselline,” said Jack, sounding all professional now. “He’ll walk you over to the Herons’. Maybe you want to wait over there until we finish up here.”

She nodded her head and took hold of Lisa’s hand. “I’ll be back.”

Ray watched Morgan go and wondered what she’d look like in tight jeans and a thin white T-shirt. Ever since he’d started watching her, he couldn’t stop these images from creeping into his mind. Why her? He didn’t date women with children but he liked Lisa and Morgan had the sort of appeal that seemed deeper than physical. She was such a dedicated mom and supportive daughter. Many women would have distanced themselves from a father who committed such a reprehensible act. Not her. According to Kenshaw, she visited her father, often. Respectable, upstanding, devoted, yeah...not his type.

Jack snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s face, bringing his attention away from Morgan. Jack filled Ray in on his conversation with their shaman.

“He wants you here on site with Ms. Hooke.”

“What? How am I supposed to pull that off?” asked Ray.

“I’m going to suggest Morgan not be alone. That her father’s arrest might have repercussions for her and Lisa.”

“You’re not going to tell her about the money?”

“You said that Peck asked her about the money,” said Jack.

“That’s the first thing I heard when I came in. But she thinks we’re talking about state quarters.” The image of Morgan being dragged backward by that cowardly little branch manager made Ray want to punch him in the face all over again.

“I can ask her a second time, suggest that her father might have some additional money.”

“Don’t suggest. Tell her the truth. Her father might have been paid to shoot Ovidio Sanchez. He cashed a huge check the day before he went to jail and that pecker Peck was in her home, looking for the loot.”

“This could be very dangerous for her. So I’m going to recommend strongly that she consider hiring a bodyguard. Then I’m putting your hat in the ring.”

“I’m no bodyguard.”

Jack seemed to know where his mind was going. “You couldn’t get to him, Ray. There wasn’t time.”

Ray never missed a beat as he skipped to Iraq and the night that none of them would ever forget.

“But I could have let him ride with Mullins. Mullins wanted him. But I stuck him with Tromgartner.” The prank had not been funny. Instead it had cost his best friend his life. If only that had been all.

“I didn’t get to them either,” said Jack. In fact, Jack had held Ray back and let go only to grab his brother Carter. Then he’d run them both out leaving Hatch behind.

Ray blew out a breath. Jack scratched at the stubble on his jaw and smoothly changed the subject.

“She doesn’t seem to know anything about the money.”

“Who knows what she knows,” said Ray. You would think a detective would be more suspicious.

“Let me talk to her when she gets back and you wash the blood off your hands.”

“This is a mistake. Kenshaw should call Dylan Tehauno. He’s clean-cut, responsible. And he’s not crazy. That’s for sure.”

“Maybe she needs crazy to protect her from bigger crazy.”

Ray sighed. He’d never felt less prepared for a job.

“One thing I know,” said Jack. “Morgan Hooke will be in danger until that money is found.”

Ray couldn’t dispute that because it was true. Her father had made a mistake going to a bank so close to home. Maybe it didn’t matter. That kind of money would bring trouble even if trouble had to travel long distances.

“Fox guarding the hen house,” muttered Ray.

“Yeah, well that hen got plucked a long time ago.”

Ray was interested in this conversation. “Who?”

“Don’t know. No rumors even.”

Ray frowned. In a small place like this, there were always rumors. “See if you can find out.”

“Because?” asked Jack.

“Because I’m curious, is all.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

He sounded so shocked it pissed Ray right off.

“Yeah.”

“Not your type, Ray.”

“I know that, Jack.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Jack followed his officer, leaving Ray in Karl Hooke’s empty bedroom. Ray ducked into the bathroom to wash his hands and then returned to set Karl’s room in order. First, he righted the dresser. Jack returned as Ray was sliding the mattress back in place.

“Where would you put it?” asked Jack.

“Not in the room beside where my granddaughter slept.” As if he’d ever have a granddaughter, Ray thought, which he wouldn’t. He was actually shocked he’d lived this long.

“You think Kenshaw knows?” asked Jack.

The two shared a hard look. He understood what Jack was asking. Detective Jack Bear Den wondered if their shaman knew about the money when tribal law enforcement did not. Ray knew Kenshaw had some information because he’d asked Ray to find out if Morgan knew who hired her dad. That meant Kenshaw either knew or suspected that Morgan’s dad did not act of his own volition. Did Kenshaw also know about the money?

Is that why his shaman had sent him? Was it more than a stranger’s interest in Morgan that caused Kenshaw to send Ray to her? He couldn’t send a detective to investigate this because Jack had an obligation to uphold the law and investigate crimes. Meanwhile Ray was blissfully free of such responsibility—any responsibility really, including taking care of houseplants.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” said Ray. “Might be that Kenshaw saw Hooke make the withdrawal at the bank or Hooke contacted him to look after his girls.”

Jack made a face. “Or maybe Carter was right.”

Jack’s twin brother, Carter, was currently in federal protection with his new wife, Amber Kitcheyan, who was Kenshaw Little Falcon’s niece. They were witnesses in a federal case involving an eco-extremist group called WOLF. Carter had been sent by Little Falcon to deliver a message to their shaman’s niece. As a result, his niece had survived the slaying that had killed everyone else in her office, and Jack’s brother was now gone from the rez as the Feds prepared their case. Jack feared Carter might have to enter witness protection after the case settled because of possible threats from the extremists. Jack believed the timing of Carter’s mission was evidence that their spiritual leader and head of their medicine society had foreknowledge of the mass slaying. If he did, Jack was obliged to arrest him.

“I’m back,” called Morgan from the open doorway.

“Wait here,” said Jack to Ray.

He did as he was told, setting the drawers back in the dresser and then piling the scattered clothing on the bed. He wondered about Morgan’s father. He understood the need for a payday. But he did not understand risking his freedom and his daughter’s life in the pursuit of money. Whether it had been his intention or not, Morgan’s life was now in danger because Ray just knew that branch manager Andrew Peck was not the sort of man who could keep a secret. The minute he figured out he needed help to get his greedy mitts on the loot, he would tell someone—someone more competent and more dangerous.

More would come for the money and when they couldn’t find it, they’d come after Morgan and her daughter. Their troubles were far from over and Ray wondered again if he was up to the task Kenshaw had set for him. Keeping Morgan safe just became a full-time gig.

Chapter Five

Morgan felt suddenly unsure about entering her own kitchen. Officer Wetselline had accompanied her from the Herons’ home back here. And she knew her attacker was gone. But still her heart hammered as she stood poised to cross that threshold.

Flashes of the attack exploded like fireworks in her mind. Lisa’s scream. Her own voice. Run! The man growling as he yanked her backward against his fleshy body. Where is it?

“Ma’am?” asked the young patrolman behind her.

She glanced back at him, enfolding herself in a hug and rubbing at the gooseflesh that lifted on her arm.

“Getting cold,” she said, making excuses for her chattering teeth.

“Would you like me to walk you in?” he asked.

She smiled and was about to tell him that was unnecessary, but her stomach tightened and she felt dizzy at just the thought of walking down that hallway.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Thank you.”

His skeptical look told her she hadn’t fooled him.

She glanced about the empty interior. Her daughter’s checked nylon lunch bag sat on the counter with the sack of milk and groceries. The red-and-white soup can had rolled halfway across the dull surface. Otherwise everything looked normal. She stepped gingerly inside and felt the terror close in as she realized how close her daughter had been to the intruder. Her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder. She swallowed and then called out to Detective Bear Den.

“I’m back.”

Morgan glanced out the door, past the officer to the lights of her neighbor’s kitchen. She knew that Lisa was safe with Trish and Guy Heron. Her neighbors had naturally been concerned about the break-in, but she assured them that the guy had been caught and that she just needed to clean the place up before retrieving her daughter. They had been wonderful, as always. The Herons’ daughter, Ami, was Lisa’s best friend and the two of them had disappeared into Ami’s room moments after their arrival.

Where is it?

The chill climbed up Morgan’s neck.

Where was what? she wondered.

Ray Strong was nowhere in sight, but Detective Bear Den stepped out from the hallway and paused in the eat-in kitchen beside the oval table. His tread was light for such a big man. She had known him since elementary school when he had begun growing early and fast. Lord, he was big. She also remembered his brother, Carter, because his twin did not look a thing like Jack. None of the younger Bear Den boys had Jack’s build or looks either. It had caused Jack trouble all his life.

She vaguely remembered that Ray Strong had been connected with something bad.

“How is Lisa?” asked the detective.

“Scared. But all right. What was he looking for?” she asked. Where is it? Was that voice going to haunt her dreams?

“What makes you think he was looking for something?”

“He broke in. Tossed things around in my father’s room. I thought...” She stopped talking. Should she tell Bear Den what her attacker had asked?

“Have there been any repercussions from your father’s involvement with Ovidio Sanchez?”

What a polite way to ask if her father assassinating the prime suspect in a mass slaying had affected them.

“Lisa has been having a hard time at school. Kids can be mean.”

“And you?”

“I had to switch to days because Dad isn’t here at night anymore.” And her daughter had lost the only father she’d ever known and Morgan didn’t understand why her father had done such a thing. It was like standing on the shore of a river only to discover that the water had undercut the bank. She and her daughter had tumbled and were still falling toward an uncertain future. Morgan knew that soon she would have to petition the tribe for assistance and the prospect shamed her. She didn’t say any of that aloud, however, and only just managed to mutter that it had been hard.

Bear Den’s brows dropped lower over his pale eyes. “I am asking if you have received any threats.”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Did you know what your father was planning?”

“The police at Darabee already asked me that. I was interviewed over there.”

“By Jefferson Rowe?”

“Who?”

“Police Chief Rowe?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. A detective. I don’t remember his name. He asked me if I knew beforehand, too. I didn’t.” And she felt stupid that she had noticed nothing unusual...and sad that her father had not confided in her and angry at what he had done. She glanced toward the door. “Have you seen a gray cat?”

“No.”

She tried calling Cookie from the back door but with the strangers about and the flashing lights, she didn’t expect to see the cat until things calmed down.

Her interruption did not distract the detective from his line of questioning.

“Did your father leave you anything? Instructions. A letter.”

“Like a suicide note?” Morgan was still hugging herself. The April air turned cold at night in the mountains so she moved to close the kitchen door. Ray Strong anticipated her actions and got there first. Her hand brushed his before she could draw back. The contact was quick so she could not understand why her insides tightened and her breath caught. The door clicked and she met Ray’s dark compelling eyes. One of his brows quirked.

Bear Den cleared his throat, snapping Morgan’s attention back to the detective’s question. Did she have foreknowledge of her father’s plan to commit murder?

“He didn’t say anything. The morning before the shooting he took his truck. He’s not supposed to drive anymore. I was sleeping when he left. I get home from work about eight a.m. and Dad usually gets Lisa up and I get her ready for school. Then I usually sleep from nine to about three. He wasn’t here when Lisa got off the bus but he was here before my shift. He wouldn’t tell me where he had gone. The next day he...” She hesitated, tugging at her ear. This topic still made her feel nauseous and baffled all at once. “He left and afterward they arrested him in Darabee. I was waiting for Lisa’s bus when tribal police and the FBI got here. They searched the house. They took some things. Maybe they found something like that.”

“They didn’t. Usually when someone is planning such a thing, they make preparations. Say goodbye.”

She thought back to the evening before when she saw him last. “He asked me to pick up a chocolate cake.”

Bear Den scowled. “Cake.”

“He wanted cake. Gave me the money.”

“What money?”

Now she scowled. “For the cake. I don’t buy that junk and he shouldn’t have it either. But I bought the cake and we had that after dinner on Thursday night for no reason.” She stared at the detective. “Was that it? The cake? Like some kind of going away party?”

Jack Bear Den shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Morgan stared at her kitchen tiles and tried to keep from crying.

“Ms. Hooke, my friend Ray spoke to the guy who broke into your house. The man indicated he was searching for money. He said your father cashed a bank check for two hundred thousand dollars in Darabee.”

She snorted at first, thinking he was kidding and then her jaw dropped open as she saw he was deadly serious.

“I have to report that to the FBI. So what I want to know from you is, did you know about this money?”

She couldn’t even speak, so she shook her head.

“Do you know where the money currently is?”

“No.” Her words were a whisper. “I don’t. You think he actually had that much money?”

Jack nodded. “I believe your father was accepting payment.”

“Payment? What could he possibly do that was worth that kind of...”

Morgan’s knees buckled and Bear Den caught her, drew out a chair and guided her into it. Her fanny hit with enough force to jar her gaze to the detective.