Eagle's Last Stand

Rick nodded absently, then taking a closer look at the books, realized that one of the volumes was a textbook on police procedures, another on criminal law and a third one on evidence collection. “What’s this all about?” he asked, surprised.

“Kim’s working on an associate’s degree in criminology. Her dad was one of ours, and she wants to follow in his footsteps. Jimmy Nelson was a good man.”

“‘Was’?”

“He was killed in the line of duty,” Preston said, noticing a crime scene investigator waving him over. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Rick hung the bag from a wall bracket that was still intact, minus a shelf, and continued to search. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay alert this time of night. He’d spent most of the day on the road and was physically beat. He was running on pure adrenaline.

Preston motioned him outside. “I think you should consider staying with everyone else at Daniel’s tonight. I’ve got a late night ahead of me.”

“Do what you have to,” Rick said. “I was thinking of stopping by the hospital and talking to Kim.”

“No. Not until I question her.” Preston took a breath and let it out slowly. “I won’t bother telling you not to get involved in this case, Rick, because you already are, but you need to remember you’re not FBI anymore. Most important of all, you have no concealed carry permit.”

“Actually, I do. The Bureau made sure of that before I left.”

“Okay, one less problem. Where’s Kim’s purse?”

“Inside,” Rick answered, telling him the location.

“Okay,” Preston said with a nod. “Considering this might yet track back to your past, let me know if you’ll feel safer carrying a badge just in case you have to mix it up with someone. I’m pretty sure the chief would deputize you, considering you’re a highly trained former special agent with a distinguished record.”

“Good. Do that as soon as you can. It’ll be good backup.”

“Consider it done. So, will you be going to Daniel’s?” Preston asked.

He shook his head. “If someone’s after me...” He let the sentence hang.

“There’s no safer place on this earth than Daniel’s compound,” Preston told him, as if the issue was settled. He looked toward the brother in question, who was coming up the sidewalk.

For the first time since the blast, Rick smiled. Out of all his Navajo foster brothers, Daniel, the owner of a major security company, was the one he understood best. “I hear your place is as secure as Fort Knox.”

“Did you expect anything less?” Daniel said as he stopped in front of them. “Speaking of safety, Rick, you’re driving a rental SUV, but considering what happened tonight, you’d be better off with something from my company’s motor pool. Tomorrow I’ll match you up with a more suitable ride.”

Preston excused himself and went to interview the two waiting employees, while Daniel walked with Rick back to the rental.

“Death follows me,” Rick said as he climbed into the SUV. “Undercover, that’s a given, but I never expected to find it here.” His lips straightened into a thin hard line. “I guess they don’t realize it yet.”

“What?”

“Hosteen Silver’s boys are damned hard to kill.”

Chapter Two

After spending a restless night, Rick headed to the kitchen for coffee, desperate for a shot of caffeine.

Paul and Preston’s adopted sons, Jason and Bobby, were playing a loud video game in the next room, and as he poured himself a mug of the dark steamy brew, Daniel intercepted him.

“Come on, time to work. This way.”

Rick followed his brother into the main room, the office’s planning and computer center. A huge horizontal computer screen the size of a table rested adjacent to four large monitors on the wall.

“I have access to intelligence chatter, courtesy of my Department of Homeland Security and National Security Agency contacts. There’s been nothing at all to indicate you were specifically targeted last night. I contacted the Bureau, as well, and their sources agree with the other agencies. No flags were raised,” Daniel said.

“So they might have been hoping to kill everyone, or maybe only one or two of us, while the rest of the family became collateral damage,” Rick said. “That’s pretty cold.”

“There’s no way to be certain, but my instincts are telling me that if they wanted one of us specifically, they would have taken their shot before now,” Daniel said. “Their real target could have also been Frank, Kim, one of the two servers or the Brickhouse Tavern itself.”

“The timing was linked to my homecoming, though,” Rick said. “Besides that, was there anything special about last night?”

“Not that we know of,” Daniel said, “but if your theory is right and this has nothing to do with your undercover work, then we should be looking for an enemy you made here, maybe during one of your infrequent visits.”

“I can’t think of anyone,” Rick said, shaking his head, “but I’ll give it some thought.”

Preston came in just then. “Frank Nelson still can’t be questioned. He’s out of danger, according to the doctors, but they want to keep him sedated and are monitoring him closely for swelling of the brain. Kim gave us a preliminary statement late last night, but she was too shaken to remember anything we don’t already know.”

“It was close to home for her, but if she’s going to be a cop, she’ll have to toughen up fast,” Rick said, his voice heavy.

Preston looked at his brother. “She will, but she’s barely out of the starting gate. Her dad’s gone and right now her uncle’s her only living relative. The incident last night turned her world upside down.”

For a moment Rick found himself indulging in an emotion he seldom experienced—sympathy. He knew what it was like to suddenly find yourself all alone.

“I’d still like to talk to her. Kim may know something useful. I’m not a cop, at least not anymore, so that might set her at ease and help her remember some details,” Rick said.

Preston nodded. “Go for it.”

“Before anyone leaves, we need to decide if our families need extra protection,” Daniel said.

“I spoke to Gene this morning, and he agrees with me,” Preston said. “The best solution is to get them out of town. Fortunately, Kendra has her U.S. Marshals training, so she’ll keep them safe,” Preston added, referring to Paul’s wife. “We can also send two of your top security people along with them, Daniel, just to make sure.”

“Where are you planning to send them?” Rick asked.

“To Gene’s ranch,” Preston replied. “You’ve never been there, Rick, but it’s in Colorado, a few hours from here, out in open country where intruders are easily spotted.”

“Since the trouble his wife, Lori, had a few years back, Gene’s place now has surveillance cameras that feed to our computers here,” Daniel explained. “With some handpicked men, and Gene and Kendra on the job, they’ll be safe.”

“Good plan,” Rick said.

Paul came in just then. He still favored his shoulder when he moved, the result of the gunshot that had forced him to retire from the U.S. Marshals Service. “I’ll be monitoring things from here.”

“I’ll handle the details,” Daniel said, then looked at Rick. “You’re going to need one of our special SUVs. Just leave the rental here and one of my men will take care of it. I’ve got a black one outside that’ll be perfect for you. It’s got extra Kevlar armor, a GPS tracker and run-flat tires.”

“Good. I’d like to get going,” Rick admitted.

“They wouldn’t let Kim in to be with her uncle after I spoke with her last night, so she went home,” Preston said. “If Kim isn’t at the hospital this morning, you’ll find her at Silver Heritage Jewelry and Gifts. The shop is owned by a member of our tribe, a Navajo woman, Angelina Curley.”

“So Kim has two jobs, one at the Brickhouse and one at a jewelry store?” he asked.

“She’s paying her way through college with gigs that let her keep flexible hours,” Preston answered.

“I know she thinks highly of you. What’s the story there?” Rick asked Preston.

“I put the man who shot her dad behind bars. Her uncle Frank really stepped up for her after that, but the P.D. kept an eye on her, as well. We wanted Kim to know that officers take care of our own, and if she needed anything, she had help. After she enlisted in the army out of high school, we kept in touch. She was deployed for a few years and then came home determined to follow in her dad’s footsteps.”

“So I should treat her with kid gloves, is that it?” Rick asked. It was a fair question, and there was no rancor in his voice.

“No, not at all. Just be aware that she’s got a lot of officers watching out for her.”

Daniel tossed Rick a set of keys. “Check in when you can. As soon as I get the family squared away, I’m going to dig into the backgrounds of each of the players, including Kim and her uncle. I have the contacts and clearance to get into databases the PD can’t access without a truckload of paperwork.”

Rick walked out and found the black SUV. It had a lot of extras and must have cost his brother’s company a lot of money, but he was glad to have it. Something was telling him the case would be getting even messier soon.

As he drove down Hartley’s Main Street, one thought continued to nag at him. He had to know if he’d somehow been responsible—if his arrival in Hartley had set off the attack. Maybe his instincts were still on overdrive, but he’d learned not to ignore them. They’d kept him alive.

* * *

KIM WAS CLEANING the glass-topped display case when she heard the bell over the door jingle. Glancing up, she saw Rick stride in and nod to Fred, the security guard, who was standing nearby.

She smiled. Rick had that elusive “it” quality that commanded attention without even trying. He’d been her secret crush back in high school. Rick had been the larger-than-life high school quarterback, and she’d been the nerdy freshman buried in homework. Back then, between her thick glasses and her braces, she’d barely got a glance from the popular guys. Of course, it also could have been because her father was a cop.

The boy she’d watched from a distance was gone now, and in his place stood a sexy, earthy, dangerous-looking man. The scar made him look tough, seasoned by a hard life and infinitely masculine.

As he walked around the counter in her direction, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He moved without wasted motion, sure of himself, aware of his surroundings.

When he saw her he smiled and for a moment his face gentled, but the emotion was gone in a flash.

“Good morning, Rick. What can I do for you?” she asked, going up to him.

“I know the police have already interviewed you, Kim, but I’d like to discuss last night again. When do you take your next break?” he asked in a voice so low only she could hear.

She glanced at the clock. Angelina wasn’t in yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to take her fifteen minutes a little early, particularly since they had no customers at the moment.

“Now would be fine.”

She went to the coffeepot in the corner and offered him a cup. When he shook his head, she poured herself one. “I’ve been thinking of nothing else but the explosion. I barely slept last night, but I still haven’t been able to remember anything that might help the police.”

“Then shift your focus. Don’t think about the explosion. Concentrate on what happened earlier that evening.”

“Okay.” As she looked into his eyes she saw something there that made her hold her breath. The angry scar across his face spoke of life-and-death struggles, but his steady gaze shone with strength, courage and determination.

“Your brother Preston asked the hospital staff for permission to speak to Uncle Frank last night, but the doctors refused. They had to sedate him. He was so scared, waking up in the emergency room.”

“Did you get to talk to him at all?”

“For a bit. Uncle Frank told me he caught a glimpse of a big man wearing overalls, a blue ball cap and mirrored sunglasses right before he was hit on the back of the head. I should have asked him more, but all I could think of was how lucky we were. We’d all nearly died.” She stopped and looked up at him. “Does that make me sound like a coward?”

“It makes you sound human. When it counted, you stepped up. Your first thought was to find your uncle, then you did everything you could to get him out of danger. You worked to save a life, and did a lot more than was expected of you. In my book, that’s the definition of a hero.”

She shook her head and gave him a quick half smile. “Thanks, but no. There were no heroes there. We were all just people doing what we had to do.”

“It was a crazy time,” he said quietly.

“The person who did this took a huge risk. If my uncle hadn’t had the Cowboys game going full blast, he probably would have heard the guy sneak up behind him.”

Hearing the jingle at the front door, they both glanced in that direction and saw the security guard hold the door open for Angelina. “That’s my boss,” she said quietly. “She’s got a bad temper, so I better get back to work. We can meet later for lunch at the Desert Rose Café and talk some more if you want.”

Rick looked at Angelina and suddenly remembered meeting her before. Smiling, he went up to her. “Angelina Tso! I’m not sure if you remember me,” he said. “You got stuck in Copper Canyon after a hard rain several years ago after working with my father, and I towed you out to the highway.”

“I’m Angelina Curley now,” she said curtly.

“Weren’t you studying with Hosteen Silver to become a medicine woman?” Rick asked, using the Navajo equivalent of Mister that most of their tribe preferred. “Did you find another mentor after my foster father’s death?”

Her expression darkened, and Kim, who’d been watching the exchange, recognized the signs instantly.

“Kim, I’m paying you to work, so find something to do!” Angelina snapped. “And you,” she added, looking at Rick. “I’m warning you right now to stay out of my store. Neither you nor your family is welcome here. Hosteen Silver cheated me. He took my money and then wouldn’t let me come back for more instruction. He robbed me of my chance to become a Navajo healer, then tried to ruin my reputation.”

“There’s got to be more to the story. Integrity was more than a word to Hosteen Silver,” he said, biting back his anger. “Why don’t we talk about this in private?”

“I’m not saying another word to you. Fred, show Mr. Cloud out,” Angelina said, looking at the security guard.

“I know my foster father, and what you’re telling me isn’t something he’d do. Let’s talk and figure things out,” Rick insisted, taking a step closer to her and gesturing to the empty office behind them. “We can talk in private in there.”

“Keep your hands off me,” Angelina shouted at him.

“He didn’t—” Kim started, but in an instant everything went crazy.

As Fred rushed forward, squaring off in front of Rick, fists clenched, Kim squeezed in between them, facing the security guard.

“Fred, he didn’t touch her. Just calm down,” Kim urged, anxious to avoid a stupid confrontation.

“Do something, you fool,” Angelina yelled at Fred.

“Out of my way, Kim,” the security guard ordered.

“No. Just chill out, Fred, okay?”

“Throw him out, damn you!” Angelina screamed.

The guard grabbed Kim by the shoulders and pushed her aside. Kim stumbled and slammed her ribs against the edge of the counter. Groaning, she reached out with both hands and, getting a grip on the display case, managed not to fall.

Rick instantly grabbed the man by the belt and collar and hurled him facedown across the tiled floor.

Fred careened into a freestanding metal display filled with souvenirs and cheap Mexican pottery. The display rocked, sending a cascade of key chains, postcards and clay pots tumbling to the floor.

Angelina reached for the low shelf behind the front counter, brought out a revolver and pointed it directly at Rick. She was breathing hard, shaking and clearly out of control.

“No!” Kim lunged toward her boss, but Rick beat her to it.

In a blur he yanked the weapon from Angelina’s hand and looked over at the guard, who’d grabbed the display and managed to keep it from tipping over.

“Everyone, calm down!” he ordered, opening the cylinder and dumping the bullets onto the floor before placing the revolver on the counter.

Kim froze in place. Even without a weapon, he still commanded the room. “I’m leaving now,” he said, holding out his hand, palm up, as a signal for Fred to stay put. “See you at lunch, Miss Nelson?” he asked softly. Assessing the situation with a steely gaze, he never turned his back until he was out of the shop.

As the door swung shut, Angelina, still shaking, turned to Fred, who was down on one knee picking up the scattered merchandise. “You’re my brother’s son so I gave you a chance, but you stink as a security guard. Turn in your gear and get out. You’re fired.” Then she turned to Kim. “And you—”

“Angelina, I didn’t do anything wrong this morning, and you know it.” She wasn’t going to take any abuse from the woman, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. If she could only manage to calm her down....

“He came to see you.”

“All he wanted to do was follow up on last night,” Kim said, struggling to keep her voice low and controlled. “That explosion at the Brickhouse could have killed fifteen people. Most of us got lucky, but my uncle is in the hospital with a fractured skull. You must have seen the burned-out building and street barricades. We were lucky to get out alive.”

“You were hosting a dinner for the sons of Hosteen Silver. What did you expect? That bunch brings nothing but bad luck. Look what just happened here,” Angelina said, then shook her head. “Forget it. Get out. You’re fired.”

“I doubt Mr. Cloud will ever be coming back, so why let me go?” she insisted. If she ended up jobless, how would she be able to stay in school?

“I’m not interested in an employee who’s friends with my enemies. I know you’re having lunch with him,” she snapped. “I’ll mail your last paycheck. Now get out.”

Kim picked up her purse, jacket and lunch bag and walked out while Angelina searched for the bullets still scattered on the floor.

* * *

“I’M GLAD YOU called to tell me what happened, Rick,” Preston said, looking around the interior of the Desert Rose Café, studying the smattering of diners there.

“I had to. That woman lost it completely. When she screamed at me to take my hands off her, her guard moved in, but I never touched Angelina Curley. Kim can verify what happened,” Rick said, reaching for his spicy breakfast burrito.

“Angelina’s well known around town and has friends in high places despite her erratic behavior. Stay away from her. It’s unlikely that she’s involved in what happened at the Brickhouse, so tread carefully. You don’t want to turn her into an enemy.”

“We already are enemies.” His gaze snapped to the shop across the street as an old saying played in his mind. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” One way or another, he was going to find out what had happened between Angelina and Hosteen Silver.

Chapter Three

Though it was only ten-thirty and way too early for lunch, with nowhere else to go at the moment, Kim decided to stop by the Desert Rose Café for a cup of tea. As she walked in, she was surprised to see Preston and Rick sitting at a table near the window.

Kim approached them slowly, wondering if she was making a mistake. Maybe Rick was bad luck. Look at everything that had happened so far, and he’d only been in town since yesterday afternoon.

She discarded the thought immediately. There was no such thing as luck. She remembered the quote by Louis Pasteur her father had hung in his office at home. “Chance favors the prepared mind.” People made their own luck.

Rick and Preston stood as she came over, and Rick gestured to the chair beside him. “What brings you by so early, Kim? If you’re hungry, I can recommend the breakfast burrito. It’s terrific. The coffee...not so much.”

She smiled. “I know. I usually order tea.”

The waitress came over and smiled. “Hey, Kim. What’ll you have?”

“How about a job, Sally? Only kidding. I just got fired,” she said, “so a cup of honey tea will do.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” the young waitress answered.

“So am I,” Rick added. “Order what you want and consider it part of my apology. I owe you that, at least.”

Kim shook her head. “Tea will be enough.” As the waitress left, she touched Rick’s arm briefly. “I appreciate the offer, but all you really did was speed up the inevitable. I’ve never liked the way Angelina treated her employees and, frankly, I only stuck around because the work fit my schedule.”

Preston spoke up. “If you need some financial help—”

She shook her head and held up a hand, interrupting him. “I’ve got skills and experience working retail, so I’ll find a new job soon. However, if you hear of a part-time position with flexible hours, let me know.”

“I’ve got to get back to work,” Preston said, removing a few dollars from his wallet and placing them on the table. “Kim, keep thinking hard about last night. Sometimes the answers don’t come all at once.”

“I will.”

As the waitress brought over her cup of tea, Kim eyed the piece of Rick’s burrito that remained but said nothing. Pride always stopped her from asking for favors or help.

“We changed our minds. How about a breakfast burrito for the lady, too,” he said.

“Be back in a jiff,” the waitress said.

Kim smiled at Rick. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. The aromas in here always make me hungry.”

“No problem. Now I feel a little less guilty.”

A lengthy silence ensued until Sally returned with her food and, wanting to know more about Rick, Kim decided to start the conversation. “So tell me, Rick. Are you really home for good?” she asked, taking a bite of burrito.

“Yes.”

“Are you glad to be back among family or do you miss your old job?”

“Both.”

He obviously wasn’t much for small talk. She took several more bites, enjoying the flavorful explosion of green chili. Remembering how procedural books said that people often opened up just to fill the lapse in conversation, she let the silence stretch.

It didn’t work. Rick had probably read the same book years ago.

“I appreciate that you bought me something to eat and are letting me enjoy the burrito in peace, but I get the feeling there’s something on your mind,” she said, taking the last bite. “So how can I help you?”

“I know Angelina Curley had dealings with my foster father, then one day she stopped coming around,” he said. “I don’t believe her accusations at all. Any idea what really happened between them?”

“I’ve heard pieces of the story here and there, but because they originated from Angelina I’m not sure how accurate they are,” she warned.

“Go on.”

“Hosteen Silver accepted cash and jewelry in payment for her instruction and apprenticeship, but then, according to Angelina, he made sexual advances. When she rejected him, he got angry and refused to continue her training.”

“My foster father would never have done anything like that. The woman’s lying.”

“Uncle Frank knew your foster father. I met him once at the Brickhouse, too. He didn’t strike me as that type of person, either,” she admitted. “But in my experience, Angelina isn’t above lying if it suits her. I’ve seen how she twists things around when she’s dealing with customers and vendors. She keeps things legal, but she’s completely unethical,” Kim said. “Maybe she was the one who made a pass and got shot down. She doesn’t take rejection well, I can tell you that. Or maybe she just didn’t have what it takes to be a medicine woman and needed someone to blame. Considering Angelina doesn’t remember details, I’m surprised she’s as successful in business as she is. She’ll often ask us the same question two or three times.”