Desperado Lawman Page 5

  When the storm had passed, she’d hiked out of the mountains, had driven back to Albuquerque and had handed in her resignation at work—just a formality, since she’d known she no longer had a future with any legitimate newspaper. Within days she’d landed her job at the Eye-Opener, and although she’d known she couldn’t put the past completely behind her, gradually she’d learned not to dwell on it.

  But she’d never forgotten how that first crack of lightning in the Sangre de Cristos had sounded, Tess thought now—as if the very mountains themselves were being split asunder. So, as Connor jerked her backward, her first thought was for Joey, still hiding under the metal bedstead and a prime target for any bolt of lightning following the one that had just lit up the night in front of the motel unit, so close to Connor’s parked sedan that it actually seemed to have come from the car.

  Her second thought was the realization that what she’d just seen wasn’t lightning at all, but an explos—

  “Take cover! The gas tank’s going to blow next!”

  Before she could react to Connor’s hoarse command, a deafening whump! came from the vicinity of the sedan. Tess had a glimpse of the car lifting off the pavement before a towering fireball of yellow flames hid it from view.

  “Dammit, woman—down!”

  One strong arm snugging her tightly to his body, his other hand spread protectively wide against the back of her head, Connor pulled her to him. She felt herself flying through the air, his arms around her.

  They hit the motel room floor heavily a heartbeat later, Connor on the bottom and taking the brunt of the fall. In one swift movement he hooked an ankle around the nearest leg of the dresser, yanking it in front of them, but not before Tess felt a stinging sensation in the back of her thigh.

  Against the front of the dresser she heard several fast thuds, as if tennis balls were being volleyed at it. Across the room the telephone jingled once and smashed to the floor. With a high, icy sound of glass shattering, pieces of the dresser’s mirror flashed around them, while sheered-off metal from the explosion outside turned into flying shrapnel.

  The bed was in the safest area of the room, shielded by the half-open door of the unit from the storm of debris. Thank God she’d told Joey to hide under there.

  From the parking lot outside came a metallic groaning noise that ended with a jarring crash. The abrupt silence that followed was broken only by the roar of flames.

  “The car just collapsed onto its axles,” Connor muttered from somewhere near her ear. “You okay?”

  He was still holding her, but as he spoke he loosened his grip and peered intently into her face. Tess nodded.

  “I…I’m okay.” She heard the tremor in her voice and changed her nod to a shake of her head. “No, I’m not okay. How could I be? I…I killed a man, Connor. He was going to kill us and I didn’t have any choice, but I took a life. I killed a man.”

  “You killed my car. I killed Malden,” Connor said abstractedly. He began to get to his feet. “We’ve got to get Joey out of here before the police arrive and decide to engage in a jurisdictional pissing contest with me. I’d win, but I don’t want to waste time getting into it with—”

  He paused, his glance sharpening on her. Swiftly he sank back down beside her and took both her hands in his. “I killed him, Tess. I fired just before you did, and my bullet caught him in the upper chest. Your bullet was lower, which was why it ricocheted off the pavement into the car’s gas tank.”

  The apparent lack of emotion in his voice was belied by his tight grip on her fingers. Virgil Connor wasn’t the man she’d first seen him as, Tess thought slowly, her gaze locked on his. She had the sudden certainty that he wasn’t even the man he saw himself as. He’d glimpsed her horror at the belief that she’d been responsible for taking Malden down, and some part of him had needed to take that horror away from her.

  He got to his feet, pulling her up with him. She saw the spasm of pain that crossed his features, and realized with a start that a similar spasm had involuntarily crossed hers.

  “You’re hurt.” His brows drew together. “Where?”

  “My leg twinges, that’s all. I think I pulled a muscle when we landed on the floor.” He was all business again, she noted. She followed his lead. “Forget me, what about you?”

  As she spoke she remembered what had happened just prior to Malden’s death. She bit back a gasp.

  “You were shot, weren’t you?” Placing one palm on his chest, she began to draw aside the right lapel of his jacket. His hand clamped around her wrist, but too late to stop her.

  Beneath the suit fabric one whole side of the formerly white shirt was drenched in blood. This time her gasp was audible.

  “We’ve got to get you to a doctor,” she said decisively. Releasing his lapel and shaking off his hand, she stepped out from behind the dresser. “Joey!” Ignoring the state of the room, she sped over to the relatively untouched area near the bed and knelt beside it. “Joey, it’s safe to come out now. Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” Amazingly, as the nine-year-old scooted out on his back from under the bed like a mechanic from under a car, his eyes shone with excitement. “Wow, that was something, huh? What happened—did they use a rocket launcher or—”

  His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the room. “Holy sh—”

  “They didn’t use a rocket launcher,” Tess interjected quickly. “And Joey, listen to me—both of those men who came to hurt us are dead. One of them doesn’t—” She took his hands. “One of them doesn’t look so good, so when we walk out I want you to keep your eyes on me, okay? This isn’t like in the movies, and I don’t want you to see it.”

  Partly visible, hunkered down on the other side of the door, Connor was covering Petrie with a blanket. But she didn’t want to take the chance of Joey catching sight of anything that might fuel his already-disturbing nightmares.

  “Okay, Tess.” Joey swallowed. He squared his shoulders, his gaze still on hers. “I won’t look, but I’m not sorry they’re dead. They came here to kill me, didn’t they? They prob’ly didn’t figure on running into you.”

  Connor had been right, Tess thought helplessly. She should have nipped Joey’s hero-worship of her in the bud two days ago, but now wasn’t the time to set him straight. She stood.

  From somewhere farther down the row of units came raised voices, the first she’d heard since Connor had opened the door to Malden and Petrie. Obviously, some of the motel’s guests were gathering the courage to investigate.

  “I guess they didn’t,” she said weakly. “But Connor was the one who mostly fought them off, and he got hurt. We’re going to have to take him to a hospital right away.”

  “No, we’re not.” Connor strode toward them. “For all we know those two weren’t working alone. We’re going to put some distance between us and this place, and then I’m going to contact Jansen again and arrange a secure meet.”

  Before she could protest, he went on, his tone impatient. “It’s not your call, Tess. Come on, let’s go.”

  The body by the door was just a shape beneath the blanket Connor had thrown over it, and although Malden still lay outside on the walkway, mercifully his prone figure was obscured by shadows. Still, as she hurried Joey by, Tess found herself envying Connor’s seeming unconcern.

  He was Belacana, non-Navajo, she reminded herself. To him a dead body was just a dead body. Even if he understood what an Enemy Way was, the concept of a warrior undergoing a ceremony to rid himself of the ghosts of those he’d killed wouldn’t fit his logical view of the world.

  She didn’t know how much credence she put in the old beliefs herself, she thought unhappily as they headed across the parking lot. All she knew was that she wished she had some—

  “I got corn pollen,” Joey said beside her in a small voice. His backpack slung over his shoulder, he fumbled under the grimy neckband of his tee. “I think you’re supposed to sprinkle some on your tongue and your head. That’s what Mac told me when he gave
it to me, anyway.”

  “Mac? John MacLeish?”

  Connor was ahead of them, but from the stiffening of his posture as she spoke, Tess knew he’d heard her reference to the man the FBI was hunting. Too bad, Agent, she thought with a spurt of defiance. If you think I’m going to take this opportunity to see if Joey’s memory’s starting to come back, you’re wrong. Right now us two Dineh have more important business to attend to.

  “Yeah. He said the worst thing that could happen to a man was if he forgot who he was and where he came from. He told me I should be proud to be one of the People.” Joey glanced up. “Some kids had been ragging me, calling me a dumb Indian.”

  “I see.”

  She did see, Tess thought. The hardscrabble environment of the streets was a perfect breeding ground for ignorance and racism; although also, from what she understood Joey to be saying, equally a place where a homeless man’s rough kindness could reveal itself in giving the gift of pride to a child. For the first time she found herself wondering what kind of person the mysterious MacLeish was. A killer, yes, judging from the Agency’s case against him. But he’d seemingly behaved with compassion and sensitivity toward the boy.

  And now he was supposed to be looking for Joey to kill him. She frowned.

  “There’s enough here for all of us,” Joey continued. “Mac said pollen’s a reminder of the Way, so using it keeps the ghosts back. You…you want some, too, Connor?”

  They’d reached the other side of the parking area and the lone vehicle sitting there. As Tess cast an glance back at the motel, a man and a woman hurriedly exited a unit, the male still zipping his trousers and the woman buttoning her blouse. The two of them got into a car and sped away.

  Most of the motel’s clientele would have the same aversion to coming forward as witnesses, she thought. That explained why no one had tried to stop Connor and Joey and her from leaving a scene that included a burning car and two bodies.

  “Want some what? Oh.” Connor shook his head as Joey held out the small washed-leather pouch that hung on a rawhide thong around his neck. “Pollen, right? No, don’t waste it on me, Joey. But you go ahead and use it while I unlock the car.”

  Tess stared at Connor as he withdrew a key tag with a single key on it from his jacket pocket. Joey nudged her, and she switched her attention back to him as he tapped out a scattering of pollen grains into her palm and then his own. Slipping the thong-tied bag under his T-shirt again, with a child’s solemnity he put a pinch of the substance onto his outstretched tongue and uncertainly dusted what was left over his head. He looked at her expectantly. Feeling slightly foolish—she’d been raised with so little knowledge of her own heritage that for all she knew they were doing this all wrong, she told herself in mild embarrassment—she copied his actions.

  The pollen tasted nutty and not unpleasant. Like corn meal, she thought, but silkier and more golden. As she sprinkled the rest of the grains on her hair her embarrassment faded.

  Right here and right now the Navajo Nation had a population of two, she realized slowly—Joey Begand and Tess Smith. They were on the run, but it wasn’t the first time the People had been forced to flee. They had only a sketchy idea of the ways of their culture. But in the not-so-distant past that same disjointed separation from the Way had been harshly imposed on succeeding generations of Navajo, and yet the Way had endured.

  Beauty behind me, Beauty in front of me, Beauty above me, Beauty all—

  “Beauty all around me.”

  Joey’s young voice finished the last line of the chant, and only then did Tess realize she’d spoken the words out loud. She met his gaze.

  Five minutes ago she’d felt sick—sick to her soul, sickened by the violence she’d witnessed and the knowledge that there were men in the world evil enough to take the life of a child. As she and Joey had hurried out of the motel room she’d felt as if that foglike evil was reaching out for them.

  She didn’t feel like that anymore. Neither did Joey, she could tell. The hectic excitement he’d displayed was no longer in evidence; instead, his eyes were calm and trusting.

  She didn’t know if she believed in ghosts, Tess thought, and she wasn’t certain she believed corn pollen had any special significance. But if she did, she would say that the pollen in the little leather bag John MacLeish had given Joey had been a protection against the lingering spirits of two killers.

  “Get in. Joey, you bunk down in the back seat and see if you can get some shut-eye.”

  Beside them, Connor had unlocked the sedan and was waiting by the open door of the vehicle. Suddenly comprehending his plan, she darted a glance at Joey.

  The fear was back in his gaze as he stared at the sedan. He made no move to get in.

  “We…we can’t take this car,” Tess muttered. “This is Petrie and Malden’s car, right? We can’t take it.”

  He wouldn’t understand, she thought. She wasn’t sure she did, either, but she couldn’t argue with her feelings. The sick dread was back, stronger than ever.

  While Connor had been covering Malden’s body, he’d obviously removed the vehicle’s keys from the dead man’s pocket. She could see how a Belacana might view that as an expedient solution to their transportation problem, but even if she set aside her own aversion to entering the sedan, it was plain Joey wasn’t going to be able to.

  “What do you mean, we can’t take this car?” Connor looked from her to Joey and back at her again. “It’s the only one available to us. You blew mine up, remember?”

  “It’s their car,” Joey said thinly. His voice shook. “If we take it, their chindi will come after us, and not even the pollen’ll be strong enough to keep them away.”

  “For God’s—” Connor exhaled and turned a frustrated glare on Tess. “You want to tell me what the hell he’s talking about? What’s a chindi?”

  “A ghost. You can’t use a dead man’s possessions or his ghost will follow you,” she said rapidly. “On the Dinetah you’ll sometimes see an abandoned hogan, and except for the fact that it has a hole knocked into the north wall it looks like a perfectly serviceable home. That’s a death hogan. Someone died in there before the family could take him outside to die, and when that happens the hogan is never used again by anyone. The family knocks a hole into the north wall to signify that a chindi was released inside.”

  “Okay, but this isn’t a hogan,” a muscle moved in his jaw, “and we don’t have a choice here.”

  “I’m not getting in.” Joey’s bottom lip stuck out stubbornly, and for a moment he looked like a smaller version of the man he was confronting. “There’s nothing we can do to stop them from following us if we take their car.”

  His words struck a chord of memory in Tess. She’d heard something once, hadn’t she? Something about how to confuse a vengeful chindi enough to stop it from—

  “Wait here,” she said swiftly.

  She caught a glimpse of Connor’s thunderous expression as she ran back to the motel. It was no less thunderous when she returned a couple of minutes later, but she ignored him.

  “Get in the car, Joey.” She mustered a crooked smile. “Go on, it’s okay now. I fixed it so they can’t follow.”

  “How’d you fix—”

  Joey’s disbelieving question was interrupted by a ringing noise. Connor’s frown deepened, and from an inner pocket of his jacket he retrieved a cell phone. He squinted at the display.

  “It’s my partner, Paula.” For the first time since she’d met him, Tess saw a real smile lift the corners of his mouth. “Paula Geddes,” he elaborated. “She was on duty the night the safe house was blown and Bill Danzig was killed. If she’s calling, she must have been released from hospital.”

  He’d mentioned Geddes in passing earlier, but not that the female agent was his partner. As well as his concern for his kidnapped witness, he’d had the strain of worrying about the woman he worked alongside to contend with, Tess thought as he turned away to take the call. Maybe that added strain had been the final str
aw that had momentarily weakened his self-control when he’d kissed her.

  Whether it had been or not, she knew instinctively that Virgil Connor wouldn’t accept it as an excuse for what he’d done. She could understand that, because she hadn’t been able to excuse herself for her reaction to—

  “Get in the car, Joey. If I have to, I’ll pick you up and put you in, but we’re getting out of here now. You, too, Tess.”

  Connor’s tone was sharp. Tossing the cell phone on the dashboard, he slid in behind the wheel and started the car.

  “Do what he says,” Tess reassured the still-hesitant child, feeling far from reassured herself. “I’ll explain later, but it’s okay now.”

  She waited until Joey was in the back seat and buckling his seat belt before getting in herself. Even before she closed the passenger-side door Connor hit the gas.

  “Change of plans,” he said tightly. “We’re not heading for Albuquerque, and I’m not going to be setting up a meet with Area Director Jansen.”

  His face was etched with tension. “Paula checked herself out of hospital half an hour ago. She said she wanted to warn me as soon as possible.”

  “Warn you about what?”

  “About Arne Jansen.” His reply was toneless. “Paula’s got proof he arranged the attack on the safe house.”

  “He’s working against the Agency?” Tess gasped. “But…but why?”

  Connor shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do know one thing.”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he glanced at her, his gaze bleak. “If Paula’s right and he’s a traitor, then Jansen deliberately sent Petrie and Malden to kill us at that motel tonight.”

  Chapter Six

  According to the Navajo origin myth there had been three, some said four, worlds before this one. Tess caught herself yawning and forced herself to concentrate on the latest subject she’d chosen to occupy her mind. But maybe the Dineh explanation of how the universe began wasn’t the best choice, she admitted. The first of those worlds had been one of unending darkness, and right now it seemed as though she’d been driving through that first world for the past five hours.