Navajo Justice

“You create fantasies and cater to illusions woman have held dear since they first heard of Prince Charming. But you’re not willing to take the same risks your heroines take. These days you want safety and guarantees before you give any man the time of day.”

“You make it sound as if I’m turning away truckloads of eligible men. But let’s face it, in my work, I seldom meet people at all. Creativity and solitude are companions. And when I do meet a new guy, they turn out to be like Ken.” She shuddered. “I’d rather be alone than with him.”

Elena smiled. “I don’t blame you there, but there’ve been others. Now this wonderful man steps into your life and you’re already busy finding fault—anything to keep from getting too close.”

“I’m not finding fault, Elena. I’m just pointing out that he could be a serial killer, for all we know.”

“He’s not.”

“And just how do you know that?”

“Because I keep my eyes and ears open. First, I’ve heard talk about him. He’s in some kind of law enforcement work. Mrs. Patrick told me that her son worked with him once.”

“The attorney?”

Elena nodded. “She wouldn’t give me the details. She said it was all confidential, but she spoke of our new neighbor with respect.”

Laura looked across the room pensively. Something still didn’t add up, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“And look at what this house tells us about him. He’s a man who cares about the place he calls home and his heritage. Did you see the fetish in the nicho in the wall in the living room?”

Laura remembered seeing the recessed niche in the wall, but she hadn’t taken a closer look at what it contained. “No, I didn’t. What animal does the fetish depict?”

“The mountain lion. It’s on a special earthenware dish sprinkled with cornmeal, which is supposed to keep the fetish’s powers strong. The mountain lion is his animal medicine and that tells you about the man he is.”

“What’s it represent? Do you know?”

“Yes, I learned about animal fetishes and their medicine years ago because they fascinated me. The mountain lion is the hunter god. Think of the spiritual attributes of the animal—courage, faithful to his purpose and committed. That’s the animal medicine he draws upon.”

“Okay, Sherlock,” Laura teased. She took off Burke’s jacket, feeling warm now in a properly heated home. “But, for my sake, don’t be so quick to think the best of him. People in law enforcement, no matter what their background, aren’t always nice and stable.”

Elena shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry so much about you if you were at least curious about him and trying to learn more, but as it is…”

Wolf came up beside Laura and pressed his muzzle into her hand, asking to be petted. She scratched his head, enjoying the soft feel of his thick fur.

“You’ve never had a love that lasted,” Elena continued, “but now when you look at Burke, I see it flickering to life. Hold on to that. If your fears and doubts win over every time the opportunity comes, you’ll end up letting life slip right through your fingers.”

Laura started to make excuses, but decided to be honest instead. “I like my life the way it is. I don’t depend on anyone for my happiness, and that gives me a sense of security and accomplishment.”

“But there’s so much more to life. You’ve got to go out and meet new people and give yourself a chance.”

“There’s more to Burke than meets the eye, Elena. There’s a hard edge to that guy that doesn’t quite fit in with the charming man who graciously offered us his home.”

Elena sighed. “I’m going to bed. I can see that you’re determined to find a reason to back away. Will you at least think about what I’ve told you?”

Laura kissed her good-night. “I always do.”

After Elena had gone to bed, Laura wandered around the house, with Wolf padding along beside her. She stopped by the nicho in the wall where the animal fetish was kept, and studied the mountain lion. The four-inch figure, hand carved out of petrified wood, was exquisitely made. She started to touch it, but drew her hand back. It seemed too personal to disturb.

Laura continued to the den. The leather furniture looked comfortable and held that touch of masculinity that so defined Burke. This was a man’s room through and through. There was a no-nonsense, no-frills style of decor here that fitted in with what she’d learned about him so far, but nothing here really cast a light on his personal life.

In her own den there were photos of her mother, and a rare one of her father. He’d died when she was three. There were shots of picnics with Elena and Christmases with friends and family, a chronicle of good times past. But there was nothing of that sort here.

She looked at his bookcase, wondering what she’d be able to learn about him from his choice of reading material. She recognized several titles from her college days, such as The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli. If memory served her right, the author’s philosophy was simply that theological and moral arguments had no place in the political game. It was a gruesome, practical book that modern day military people were required to study. There was The Art of War by Tzu Sun, which ran along the same vein, A Book of Five Rings, which had been written by a famous samurai master. Then on a lighter vein—if one could call them that—were books by Ludlum, Clancy and Trevanian.

Missing were the kind of books she treasured—ones by Tolkien, or David Eddings, or Danielle Steele—books that mingled fantasy with romantic adventure. Of course, generally speaking, she didn’t share the reading tastes of most men, something she attributed to yet another instance of the left brain–right brain dichotomy.

Wondering which of the books on the shelf was his favorite, she leafed through several. It was clear from the wear and tear on the Clancy books that he’d reread all of them.

Well, at least he favored fiction.

Not in the least bit sleepy, Laura sat down on the leather sofa and looked around the room, wondering why there was nothing in the house, with the exception of the fetish and the books, capable of giving her a glimpse into Burke’s personal life. The more she mused about it, the more uneasy it made her. The place was beautiful, but more like a model home than an actual residence.

Finally, too restless to continue sitting, she stood. She had things to do. Wasting time was not her style. She’d go over to her own house and start putting things away and cleaning up. When Elena went to bed she rarely woke up until morning and, in the meantime, Wolf would keep her safe. No one in his right mind would risk getting an animal that large ticked off. Besides, Burke had said he wouldn’t be gone long.

As Laura put on Burke’s jacket and headed to the front door, Wolf came trotting up and sat directly in front of her, so close she could feel his breath on her leg. It was a little disconcerting, but as she looked down at him and saw him wag his tail, she knew it was okay.

Laura crouched down beside him and sank her fingers into the rough fur around his powerful neck. “I’m going to leave for a little while. You can watch Elena and make sure she’s safe.”

Laura tried to slip out the door, but the dog forced his way beside her.

“Wolf, no. You have to stay here.”

She pushed him back, hoping she wouldn’t get him angry, then slipped out the door quickly. Standing outside for a second, she heard him scratching at the door, but there was no howling or barking. Figuring she’d won this round, she locked the door and headed to her home.

Laura unlocked the front door and went inside, turning on the lights. The chaos the brightness revealed depressed her considerably.

Deciding quickly, she started in her office, knowing it was the one room she needed to get organized first, for her own peace of mind. Was it just her imagination, or did the room really look worse than when she’d left it a few hours ago? A relatively intact folder she was sure she’d seen earlier on the desk was now on the floor among the scattered papers.

Suddenly she saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye. Before she could even turn her head, a hand clamped down hard over her mouth and her arm was twisted painfully behind her back. It hurt so badly tears formed in her eyes.

“If you make a sound or struggle, I’ll rip off your arm,” the man growled. “Now tell me where it is, or I’ll just kill you right now,” he said, moving his hand back slightly from her mouth.

“What? What are you looking for?”

“Don’t play games,” he ordered, his voice no more than a rumble.

Terror shot through her. The man was crazy. Remembering a self-defense move the heroine of one of her books had used, Laura moaned and collapsed as if fainting, forcing the man to shift his hold to keep her from slipping away from him.

As his grip loosened, she stiffened and brought her heel down hard on his instep, simultaneously elbowing his stomach.

Laura screamed and twisted free. Only a few seconds ahead of her assailant, she raced for the front door, knowing it was her only chance.

Chapter Four

Laura threw the door open, ran out and collided abruptly with Burke. He wrapped his arms around her, steadying her.

“Laura, what’s wrong?”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it beating. “Someone grabbed me from behind,” she said. “He’s inside!”

“Wolf, guard her!” he ordered the dog, anger flaring on his face.

As Burke went past her into the house, Laura caught a glimpse of a figure going through the living room into the kitchen.

Realizing the man intended to escape out the back door, Laura made a split-second decision. She’d go around the outside of the house and try to catch a glimpse of him when he came out to the street. She needed to know who her enemy was and, with Wolf beside her, the man wouldn’t dare attack.

She was just approaching the driveway when the man leaped the fence that bordered her backyard, sprinting in her direction. She could hear Burke on the other side, closing in. Night shielded the stranger’s face in shadows and, before she could get a clearer look, he scooped up a large metal trash can and threw it directly at her.

At that instant, Wolf leaped up and knocked her to the ground, and the trash barrel missed by at least a foot. As it bounced across the yard, the man jumped into the passenger side of a parked car, barely escaping Burke’s leap over the fence and desperate lunge at the door. The vehicle roared away with squealing tires.

Burke ran a few more steps and, catching the vehicle tag number, wrote it down.

By the time Laura got to her knees, he was at her side. He helped her up, trying to gauge the extent of her injuries.

“Where do you hurt?” he asked brusquely, looking her up and down.

“I’m not hurt at all, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I have a few scuffs and bruises, but I’ll live.”

Burke shook his head. “Why did you try to head him off like that? What did you think you were going to do if you caught up to him?”

“I just wanted to get a look at his face. He threatened me in my own home.” Her voice trembled and she swallowed hard. “No one has a right to do that.”

“Home should be a place of safety, and he violated that. I understand. But you reacted without thinking it through,” he said, his tone somber. “And in situations like this, you can’t afford to do that. It’s dangerous to act impulsively, Laura. You have to be more careful.”

“I know, but I figured that with you at his heels and Wolf by my side, his focus would have been on getting away, not attacking me. And believe it or not, I never even noticed the car until he got in.”

Burke exhaled softly. “As you’ve seen, trouble can be anywhere. The intruder obviously had a partner. From now on, be more careful.” He looked down at the dog. “Okay, furball, if Laura ever goes off like that when you’re guarding her, subdue her. Knock her down and sit on her if you have to.”

Laura laughed. “He can’t possibly understand all of that.”

“No, but he does understand ‘Laura’ and ‘subdue.’ I wouldn’t try to run after a bad guy next time.”

“You mean he’ll bite?”

“Nah. He likes you. He’ll just knock you to the ground and stand over you, drooling. He’ll probably lick your face, too. Considering that he’s got a tongue that feels like a meat loaf, I can guarantee it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

“Ugh. That’s gross.”

“But true.” Burke cocked his head. “Come on. Let’s get back to your house.”

As they walked side by side, the warmth of his body so close to hers was unsettling. “I thought you worked at night,” she said, trying to bring her thoughts back to the business at hand. “Why did you come back so soon?”

“I just had to go meet with a contact. Investigations don’t depend on set hours.”

“So you are a cop?”

“A detective. Now tell me why you went back to your house when you did.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to get a head start cleaning up and making whatever repairs I could.”

They stepped inside her house a few moments later. The lights were still on and, as she looked around, she sighed. “I’m going back to my office,” she said, leading the way. “It makes me crazy to see paperwork from a project that took me between six months to a year to complete, scattered all over the floor like trash.”

“First, we need to call the police again. Don’t touch anything, but check as best you can to determine if anything is missing,” Burke advised.

Laura nodded. “I can tell it’s going to be a long night.”

LAURA STOOD WITH BURKE in the living room as the police car drove away. As before, there were no revelations, but at least the officers had the vague description Laura could give of the intruder.

“Now maybe I can pick up some of this mess,” she sighed.

“You’ve had two break-ins back-to-back,” he said, following her into her office. “Could they be related to something associated with your work?” Burke began helping her pick up the papers. Then, giving in to curiosity, he read the top paragraph of the page in his hand. “‘His mouth closed gently over hers…’ Whoa.”

“I write romance novels, Detective.”

He grinned widely.

It was the same condescending, amused look she got from men who’d never picked up a romance novel in their lives. The look she gave him in return made the temperature in the room drop by twenty degrees. “They’re not Machiavelli, but they take thought, skill and a lot of work,” she said in a hard voice. “And they’re not just about sex.”

“What did I say?”

“It was written all over your face.” She’d spent years pointing out to critics of the genre that romance novels qualified as “real” books, and often wondered whether her readers went through the same nonsense.

“Do you write other stuff? Maybe I’ve read your work.”

“I doubt it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If you’d read my work, you would have remembered,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.

He laughed. “Okay. Point taken.” He looked around. “If the break-ins aren’t the result of your work, then what’s your theory? Who’s doing this, and why?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “That man was crazy, angry, or both. He twisted my arm behind my back and told me he’d tear it off if I screamed. I honestly thought he might. It hurt that much.”

“So you were hurt.” Without even thinking about it, Burke moved closer to her, and she felt his nearness with every fiber of her being. Ripples of uneasiness and excitement danced through her.

“I’m fine now,” she stated, stepping back. She couldn’t even breathe when he stood so near. “He just scared me, particularly when he said he’d kill me unless I told him what he wanted to know.”

“And that was…?”

“He wanted me to tell him where ‘it’ was. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. But I was terrified of what he was going to do next.” Laura told Burke about her self-defense move, then shivered.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, then slid them upward in a slow caress until he cupped her face. Awareness shimmered between them as they stood facing each other for one breathless moment.

“You don’t have to be afraid again,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I’m going to stick around to help you even out the odds.”

Laura couldn’t think; emotions swirled wildly inside her. His palms were rough, hard and very male, and his touch intoxicating.

Hearing a loud crash in the direction of the kitchen, Laura jumped. Burke reached beneath his jacket, and she saw that the same hand that had caressed her now held a gun.

“Stay here,” he said.

He moved purposefully out of the room toward the sound. “It’s clear,” he called out a moment later.

She found him and Wolf next to the open door in the kitchen. A gust of wind blowing in had stirred a window curtain, which in turn had toppled a miniature carnival glass hurricane lamp from the counter.

Laura began picking up the broken pieces with a heavy heart. It was a keepsake from long ago—one of the few things she’d kept since high school. Some boy whose name she’d long ago forgotten had won the little lamp for her at the fair while on a double date. The trinket, which would have cost only a few dollars, represented a time in her life when she’d been open to the possibility of romance in her future. She’d later used the lamp in her first published novel to represent that same hope for her heroine.

“That lamp obviously meant something special to you. I’m sorry it’s broken,” Burke said.

Sadly, she gathered up the pieces, wondering if she could glue them back together. Then, with a sigh, she dropped them into a wastebasket.

“Maybe it’ll help if you talk about it,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “Like with most things, what made it special were the memories it held for me.”

Before Burke could ask more, and she’d have to explain all about the lamp and what it meant to her writing career, she switched the topic of conversation. “I really want to try and secure my home from another break-in before we leave tonight. Any ideas?”

“Since the lock in the front still works, that should keep any street thugs temporarily at bay. We could use some boards to hold the back door shut. But it’ll mean that the repairmen will have one more thing to do when they come.”

“It’s still a good trade-off as far as I’m concerned. But where am I going to get wood at this hour?” She glanced at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning.

“I think I’ve got a few pieces of plywood in my garage—mostly scraps the previous owner of the house left behind, but I think they’ll work.”

“I have a hammer, hand saw and a box of nails in the garage.”

“So we’re all set,” Burke said, walking to the door.

“Let me give you a hand bringing the boards over,” she said.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be back in a minute.” He paused, then quickly added, “But if you don’t want to stay here alone right now—”

“I’m fine.” He hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but it was one nonetheless. Pride set Laura’s course. “While you’re taking care of that, I’ll start cleaning up here.”

“I’ll leave Wolf with you. Just remember, he’ll knock you down and drool all over you if you don’t stay put,” he added with a smile.

“Okay,” Laura said. “But don’t think I’m going to be taking orders from now on. Next time I’ll wear a wet suit and do whatever I please, anyway.”

“I think I’d enjoy seeing you in a wet suit.” His slow, languorous grin made her tingle in all the wrong places.

She threw a pillow at him. “So far you’ve been gallant—a knight in leather armor. Don’t ruin it for me.”

He laughed. “I’m no romance hero.”

“How would you know? Have you ever read a romance novel?” she countered smoothly.

“Nope. You busted me there,” he said. “Well, I better go get what I need.”

It took another half hour of work before the back door was secure. Laura helped, and nailed some of the pieces in place herself.

“For someone who works with fantasies and fiction, you’re very helpful in the real world,” Burke commented.

“I’ve had to be. My mother was sick most of my life and I had to take care of both of us. Money was scarce for us back then, so I learned to do a little bit of everything. Now that I own this house, that’s come in handy. I’m starting to collect some tools, and I don’t always have to call in a plumber or a handyman when I need something done.”

Finished, Burke looked through the rear window at the garden, a place he’d run through only a short time ago without paying much attention to anything except a fleeing criminal. Just beyond the glow of the porch light, moonlight spilled over multicolored tulips and other spring flowers. A stone walkway, bordered by white flowers, glittered with specks of silver and led to the central flower bed. It astounded him that anyone could create something that dazzling in a place where the soil was basically nothing more than sand. “I’ve never met a romance author,” he said quietly, then glanced back at her. “But it actually suits my image of you.”

Laura watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he’d meant. From his tone of voice, she was almost certain it was a compliment. But experience warned her that men often confused a romance author with a fluffette, and she wouldn’t have taken kindly to being seen in that light.

Before she could ask him, he gestured to the wooden kitchen chairs that had survived intact, and sat across from her. “Laura, there’s something I need to explain. I’m not associated with the police. I’m a private investigator. I work for Gray Wolf Investigations.”

She’d heard of the firm. It was a prestigious one, often mentioned in the newspaper in association with VIP cases, or with crimes they’d solved that the police had been unable to close.

“With people breaking in and threatening you, you’ve obviously got a serious problem,” Burke continued. “With your permission, I’d like to look into this situation for you. It won’t require you hiring the agency. I’ll do it on my own time.”

“No, I can’t accept that. I have my own financial resources. Let me hire you instead.”

“I’ll tell you what. Let me do some preliminary work. That’s free of charge, and after that, we can talk.”

Laura shook her head. “I know you’re giving me a chance to keep it informal and just between us, but I’m not comfortable with that. It’s a very generous offer, mind you, but the fact is I know absolutely nothing about you. I’m not even sure of your name—is Burke your surname, or, as my godmother would say, your given name?”

“My name is Burke Silentman.”

“I understand from living next door to the reservation, so to speak, that the Navajo people don’t like their proper names used. Do you have a nickname?”

He smiled, pleased that she’d extended him that courtesy. “Burke is an Anglo name. I got used to having people use it when I served in the military, so it doesn’t bother me. But many of us, like me, also have secret names we never divulge. We believe that to know someone’s secret name is to have power over that person.”

“All right. Then Burke it is.”

“I’m very good at what I do for a living, Laura, and, from what I can see, you need help, the kind the local police can’t provide. Let me at least find out what you’re up against.”

“Okay,” she said, blinking against the light through heavy-lidded eyes.

“But right now you’re tired, and so am I. The house is secure. What do you say we go back to my home and call it a night?” He stood, and Wolf was instantly by his side.

She nodded. “That’s a great idea. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

As the three of them walked down the sidewalk to his place, Burke stayed close beside her on the street side. Although they weren’t even touching, she was acutely aware of everything about him. Moonlight spilled over him, accentuating the sculpted angles of his face. He spoke of in-consequential things, but his voice held her captivated. It was a rich, deep baritone, tailor-made for dark, midnight promises.