The Shadow Page 14

  “Yeah, fine,” Larry muttered. As they watched, he climbed into his truck and drove off.

  Ken rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “This job’s been full of surprises. And after such a good day yesterday, I thought we were finally on track.” As he gazed toward the work site, one of the other men whistled, then motioned for him to come over.

  “Now what?” Ken grumbled.

  “Maybe something else was tampered with,” Emily said, noting that the worker was standing in the area where the biggest cluster of pipes had been installed.

  “Don’t tell me Larry messed up the ground plumbing,” Ken muttered. “We’ve already pressure tested everything, and it was ready for the foundation to be poured.”

  The three of them walked across the metal rebar toward the collection of pipes protruding from the ground.

  Pipes…the beginning of her dream. Emily had just formed a picture of the finished inn in her mind when she heard her foreman curse.

  “Somebody’s drilled holes in half the supply and drain pipes just above ground level. We’re going to have to repair or replace the entire system now.” He looked at Emily, shaking his head. “There’s no way we can pour the foundation today.”

  “Was it Larry’s doing?” Emily asked, trying to make some sense out of it all. “As I recall, he was the first one here. And he was alone when we left for town. That was probably when he put up those drawings.”

  Ken spat out an oath, his face red. “Larry! If I find out he was responsible for this, too, I’m going to hang him up to dry.” He reached for his cell phone. “I’m going to cancel the concrete and send the sheriff over to his place right now.”

  “Do you really think he’d do this? He would have been cutting his own throat—putting himself out of a day’s work or more for sure,” Jonas said.

  “Yeah, you’re right about that,” Ken said reluctantly. “Larry comes across as rock-stupid sometimes, but he works hard and is always looking for overtime.” The foreman rubbed the back of his neck yet again. “This isn’t just a malicious prank. This is destruction of property. It goes beyond the kind of thing Larry would pull. But prank or not, Larry’s done some serious harm, too. That corpse-poison stuff really spooked some of my men. If they refuse to come back, I’m going to have to look for replacements, and that’ll take time.”

  “Getting the facts from another Navajo should straighten things out quickly,” Jonas said. “Give me their addresses and I’ll go talk to your men.”

  “That’s a great plan. They’ll listen to one of their own,” Ken said. “Just keep in mind that the ones who’ve had their pickups vandalized aren’t going to be in a good mood. Add the fact that they don’t know you, other than having seen you around…You get my meaning?”

  “It’ll work out. Trust me,” Jonas said.

  “Okay. I’ll get you the addresses.” He turned and walked off toward his pickup.

  As soon as Ken was out of earshot, Jonas turned to Emily. “You should consider staying here. I’m not sure what kind of reception I’ll get.”

  “I can handle myself and do whatever the situation calls for. Stop trying to keep me on the sidelines,” she said, anger in her voice.

  She looked beautiful, filled with fire, and more than a match for him. He smiled and threw up his hands. “I give up. It’s your call.”

  Ken arrived with the addresses before she could say anything else. “Here they are. You might also tell the men that I said for them to get their butts in gear if they want to keep their jobs.”

  JONAS AND EMILY WERE on the road soon after, heading toward the west side of the city across the river. “The first address isn’t far,” he said, “just south of the hospital. Once we’re there, stay alert to subtle body language. That’ll telegraph trouble before it happens.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Focus on what you have to do,” she said, tilting her head to get a clearer look at the road ahead.

  Today the vision in her right eye was particularly dim. It was like trying to see through a sheet of wax paper. She’d hoped the condition would straighten out as the day went by, but it wasn’t any better.

  As the world around her faded from view, the feeling of isolation that seemed to dog her footsteps these days tightened its grip. Refusing to dwell on things she couldn’t change, she tried to think positive. At least the vision in her left eye continued to hold steady.

  “Is your eyesight giving you problems again?” Jonas asked.

  “It’s probably just stress. The pressure’s really mounting on all fronts lately,” she said, deflecting his question. She didn’t want to lie, but wasn’t ready to share this part of her life with him.

  “I’m guessing it’s far more than that,” he said gently.

  “Don’t ask me for answers I can’t give you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  She didn’t respond right away. As much as she wanted someone to talk to, to share her fears with, those kinds of revelations stripped the soul bare. Once she did that, there’d be no turning back. To deepen the connection between them, to add a spiritual intimacy, seemed foolhardy. She needed to keep a strong wall between them—a barrier he couldn’t cross. That separation would allow her to cultivate her own strength so she could face whatever lay ahead.

  “I haven’t asked you about the secrets you keep—and you do have them,” she said at last. “Respect my privacy and stop pushing me for more than I can give you.” The ache of loneliness touched her heart, but she brushed the feeling aside firmly, knowing her path was set.

  “You’re a strong woman, Emily, but don’t shut me out. If you let me, maybe I can help,” he said.

  “You are helping me. The Tamarisk Inn means more to me than you realize. It’s going to be a place where people with special needs won’t have to feel isolated. They’ll be able to go anywhere safely. The key word will be accessibility. My inn will be a place of freedom, and it’ll become known for strengthening its guests from the inside out.” She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “My dream and who I am…are one and the same.”

  Jonas nodded, understanding far more than her words had revealed. Emily was all about hope, about beating the odds. And she’d brought a new gentleness into his life, a quality he’d never thought would warm his days and nights again.

  He focused on the road, and swore under his breath. He had to get it through his thick skull that Emily was off-limits. But even as the thought formed, he knew that he’d never stop wanting her. Though he’d eventually have to leave, Emily would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, JONAS pulled up behind a police car parked on a narrow street. The driveway directly ahead held a new-looking truck with a smashed windshield. The hood of the pickup was covered with a gray, powdery substance.

  A Navajo police officer was speaking to another man, apparently the owner of the truck. Emily recognized him as a member of Ken’s crew.

  As the officer came out of the open garage, he glanced at Jonas and gave him a nod. Something about the look the men exchanged assured Emily that they knew each other. That was confirmed a short time later when he approached them.

  “That’s one angry Navajo,” the officer said, his voice low. “If he catches the man who messed up his truck, it’ll take a K-9 to get him off.”

  Jonas glanced at the truck owner, who was using a hand broom and dustpan to brush the gray powder off of his truck. “Ashes?” Jonas asked.

  “Yeah, but take a good look at the color. Though the perp was probably hoping they’d be mistaken for human ashes, my guess is they came from someone’s fireplace.”

  “The vic—did he think it was corpse poison?” Jonas asked.

  “Nah, not after he heard from some of the others on his work crew. One guy who had his tires slashed was Apache, not Navajo. He decided to wipe off the ashes with a paper towel, and found a chunk of wood in the mix. It still had a roofing nail in it.”

  “This is just anot
her attempt to slow down or sabotage construction at my place,” Emily said.

  “Are you finished here?” Jonas asked the officer, who was eyeing her with curiosity.

  When he saw Jonas watching him, the deputy nodded, and tried unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “Yes, sir. All I can do is fill out a report. With the perpetual manpower shortage we have in the department, vandalism isn’t at the top of our list of priorities.”

  “Okay, our turn,” Jonas said to Emily. “Let’s you and I go talk to the truck owner and see if we get anywhere.”

  The Navajo construction worker was sweeping up the glass with a push broom as Jonas and Emily approached. “I’ve already told you all I can, detectives,” he said, not looking up.

  “We’re not the police,” Jonas told him.

  The man glanced up at Emily. “You’re the property owner.” Then he looked at Jonas. “I remember you from the site. But what are you two doing here?”

  “We’re checking into a related matter. Is there any opposition that you know about to Ms. Atkins’s inn, or to the company hired to do the work?”

  “If anyone has a complaint, it’s no one from our crew. With the economy like it is, construction jobs are few and far between. We’re all grateful to be employed. Are you thinking that whoever tried to vandalize the lumber is responsible for what happened to my truck?” He looked back at his pickup. “That puppy’s brand-new, and now look at it! If I catch the guy who took out my windshield I’m going to feed him this glass.”

  “Have you seen anyone either at the site or around this neighborhood just hanging around?” Jonas asked.

  He shook his head. “Ken told us to keep a lookout for problems. He told us about that vandalism a few days ago at the site. But, between the three of us, when I’m at work, I’m too busy to focus on anything else. The boss runs a tight ship. When I finally get home, it’s usually late, and I’m tired. The kids on this street don’t even mess with me.”

  Jonas and Emily left shortly thereafter. They were heading back out of town when a state police car came up beside them in the lefthand lane.

  Jonas nodded to the officer, recognizing the Brotherhood warrior. The officer’s car raced ahead, then pulled over to the side.

  “Give me a moment,” Jonas told Emily, slowing and parking behind the black-and-white unit.

  From inside the cab, Emily watched Jonas meet the black-uniformed Indian officer who was standing between the two vehicles. She had a feeling that Jonas’s Brotherhood connections were far more extensive than she’d originally thought.

  As glad as she was for the extra help, she wondered if she’d ever find answers. Jonas believed that everything was connected, but only one constant tied all the events together. Dinétsoh’s and Jefferson’s disappearance, the vandalism and the phony contract all had one thing in common—her land. The place where she hoped to build her inn and face her future.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A moment later, Jonas returned. “I’ve got a lead on Robert Jefferson.”

  “Where is he?” she asked, sitting up.

  “North of the state line, in the Durango area. He’s staying at a motel called The Roadrunner. I understand it’s strictly one star—maybe a half—but the place is supposed to be quiet and just outside the city limits. It’ll take nearly two hours to get there and back, so I say we leave right now.”

  She took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s go. Once we get there, let me be the one to confront him. If you lean on him, he’ll just stall and drown you in excuses. I’m his client. I’ve got a better chance of getting answers from him on that basis alone. If need be, I can push him by threatening to expose him publicly. I may not have enough to get him charged, but his career would go down the drain if word of what he’s done to me got out.”

  “That’s not a bad strategy,” Jonas said, mulling it over. “The trick will be not letting him know for sure how much evidence we have against him.”

  “Our showing up like this, unexpected, will hopefully throw him off. We’ll use that to our advantage.”

  He gave an approving nod. Emily was smart and quick on the uptake. She’d get results. “We don’t know what we’ll find once we get to that motel, so stay on your guard. There’s a lot at stake for everyone involved.”

  She remained quiet for some time, deep in her own thoughts. “I really envy you,” she said at last.

  “Me? Why?”

  “Your heritage—it’s a source of strength that never fails you.”

  “The Navajo Way sustains all the Diné. That’s true enough. But you’ve found something else that gives you courage and keeps you going—the inn.”

  “My dream gives me focus, yes,” she answered, measuring her words carefully.

  He could sense what she’d left unsaid as clearly as if she’d shouted the words. As important as the inn was to her, she would need more in her life than just that.

  The Navajo Way taught that to be complete, a man needed a woman’s energy, and a woman needed a man’s strength. As Jonas looked at her, he knew that Emily completed him in a way no one else ever could.

  “I never knew that dreams could carry such a high price,” she said softly. “But if I have to fight for mine, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have beside me.”

  The light in her eyes, and the feeling of her voice, wrapped themselves around him and tightened. The ever present knowledge that he’d eventually have to step out of her life felt like a bullet working its way to his heart.

  LESS THAN AN HOUR later, they approached the southern outskirts of Durango. Off the right side of the highway was a false-fronted Old West-style building right out of a Hollywood movie, complete with wooden sidewalk and a hitching rail. The sign in the center of the facade above the office doors identified The Roadrunner Hotel.

  “This must be the place. What’s his room number, do you know?” Emily asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the one-story motel.

  Jonas told her, then parked in an empty space a few doors down from room 110. The curtains were drawn so it was impossible to see inside as they exited the vehicle.

  “I’ll go in first,” he said, his voice all business.

  He knocked loudly but no one answered. They could hear a radio playing country-and-western music, however.

  “Someone’s inside. He may not feel like answering, but we’re staying put till he does.” Jonas knocked again, even louder. “Jefferson, open up.”

  Emily waited, then on impulse tried the knob, and the door swung open. Jonas placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back, then stepped inside.

  The first thing that hit him was the smell. It was one he knew well, a scent impossible to mistake for anything else. He glanced around the floor, searching for its source.

  Emily, who was standing in the doorway, immediately clapped her hand to her mouth and nose. “What is that? It’s horrible,” she said, coughing, “like spoiled meat.”

  “You’re close.” The scent of death still filled his nightmares whenever he revisited scenes from his past in Iraq and Afghanistan. “Stay outside.”

  His warning came seconds too late. Emily had already entered the room, and as she stepped to the far side of the bed, she saw Jefferson’s body on the carpeted floor. Her strangled cry blasted through Jonas. He went to her and, holding her close to his side, led her back out.

  Emily melted against him, pressing her head to his heart. It was as if she desperately needed his warmth to reconnect with life and push back the specter of death.

  Brushing his lips over her brow, he held her tightly for a moment, comforting her. “I have to go back in there,” he said at last. He didn’t want to let Emily go, but there was no choice. “Dial 911 while I go take a look around.”

  Duty drove him back into the room, and one quick glance at the body confirmed what he already knew. Robert Jefferson was long gone.

  In the center of the attorney’s greenish-red forehead was the entrance wound of a large-caliber bullet. Hi
s features were still recognizable, so that tended to indicate that the man had been dead for a day, max. In the Southwest, the heat invariably speeded up decomposition. Then again, it was comfortable inside the room, and the fact that the air-conditioning had kept the temperature in the low seventies would impact that time frame.

  The medical investigator’s office would have to narrow down the time of death, but Jefferson’s check-in time would be recorded at the motel’s desk, and that would help narrow the parameters.

  Jonas took a quick look around, careful not to touch or step on anything. Blood splatter revealed that Jefferson had been shot and had fallen where he lay. There was no sign of a break-in, so that tended to indicate that he had known his killer, or at least hadn’t felt threatened enough to bar him, or her, from entering.

  Jonas went back outside and saw that Emily was still trembling. Her face had also grown several shades paler. Without any hesitation, he took her in his arms once more. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  She held on to him tightly. “I’ll never forget what I saw in that room. Not ever,” she whispered, remembering the soulless eyes staring at nothing…and the blood…so much blood.

  The scent of death surrounded her still. It had seeped into her skin and clothes. More than ever she needed to reconnect with life.

  Feeling the crush of Jonas’s arms around her pushed back the blackness that threatened to overcome her. She nestled into him, needing more of his warmth. For this fragile moment in time, she would lean on him, and let love protect her.

  TIME HAD PASSED WITH agonizing slowness and the Durango police seemed to be everywhere now. Emily remained standing next to Jonas’s truck, waiting. The county M.E. had come and gone, and the body had been transported. As Emily waited for Jonas to join her, she listened to the bits and pieces of conversations going on around her.

  Moments later, Jonas walked up to her. “His car’s here and his wallet was untouched, but the police haven’t found his BlackBerry,” he said, avoiding mentioning the recently deceased by name.