Читать книгу Stargazer's Woman - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 11

Max had rolled to the left, simultaneously reaching for the gun at his waist. Kris immediately reached down her right side for her service Beretta. Old habits died hard. All she found now were pruning shears in a leather holder at her belt.

Two more shotgun blasts shook the vehicle they were hugging. “We need them alive,” one of the men called to the other.

Kris saw Max’s reaction and wondered if he’d recognized the voice. But there was no time to discuss that now.

They waited, back to back, crouched low beside the passenger’s side front tire. “Stay close to the tire so they can’t see our feet. Let them come to us,” she whispered, taking a quick look underneath the vehicle, trying to locate their assailants. “I can take down the one who came after me. He’s an amateur.”

Max turned toward the back end of the SUV. “I’m going to the rear axle and take a quick look. Maybe I can get a drop on the one with the shotgun.”

“No, stick close and cover my back. You can’t fire in that direction anyway. A stray bullet could kill a civilian. Make them come to us,” she repeated.

He glanced back at her and realized that he was taking tactical advice from a woman wearing a shirt with a smiling cactus. Before he could give that further thought, she reached into her shirt pocket for her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Deputies are on their way,” she called out a second later.

They heard running footsteps, followed by the distinctive slam of the van door being pulled shut.

As the van’s engine started up with a roar and they heard the squeal of tires, Max stood.

Kris did the same. “They’re making a run for it,” she said, watching the van accelerate out of the lot. “Wimps!”

“I’ll pursue,” Max said, running to his truck. He suddenly stopped, seeing where the other shotgun blasts had gone. Both his rear tires had been flattened—shredded by the buckshot.

Kris, half a step behind him, grabbed his arm and tugged. “Come on. We’ll take my truck!”

He raced after her. As she opened the driver’s side door, he made a move to edge past her, but she jumped in ahead of him, waving the key in her hand. “Nobody drives my truck but me. Take shotgun.”

“I’ve been trained in pursuit.”

She gave him a level stare. “I’ve threaded my way through ambushes in a Humvee. You want them to get away while we debate our credentials? Go around.”

Spitting out an oath, he raced to the other side and climbed in. “They headed east, toward Farmington,” he said and pointed to the right.

She tossed him the phone. “Update the sheriff.”

Showing restraint with the gas pedal, she didn’t waste momentum spinning the tires in the gravel parking lot. Yet once she hit the pavement, Kris accelerated rapidly, going through the gears of the manual transmission like she’d been raised on high-performance engines. This was the old highway, two narrow lanes worn by decades of traffic, but she took the corners right on the center line, not wasting a single foot of road, yet staying in their lane—barely.

“Seat belt,” she said, without looking over. He’d forgotten in the rush, but she hadn’t.

He reached over and brought down the belt, snapping it in place. Glancing over, he could see they were going eighty-five, whipping around slower-moving traffic on the old road, now more of a country lane passing through the rural community of Water-flow. The van, a bluish-green Chevy, was in sight now, and they were closing the gap.

“Reach down beneath my seat,” she said, “and grab my Beretta. I can’t take my eyes off the road or my hands off the wheel right now.”

He did as she’d asked, still trying to take in the fact that she was behind the wheel and doing some seriously skilled high-pursuit driving. The nine-millimeter pistol in a nylon tactical holster that was held high on the thigh was nearly identical to his own handgun. It would figure she’d make that choice, considering the military supplied a nearly identical weapon to its troops.

“It’s got a key pad lock mechanism,” she said, noticing he’d retrieved the weapon. She called out the numbers—the date of her induction into the Corps.

“And in case you’re wondering, I’ve got a concealed carry permit.”

The road ahead rose sharply for a short distance, and humped up over an old irrigation canal. As they watched, the van left the ground slightly, brushing against the low branches of an ancient cottonwood. Dozens of golden leaves showered down onto the road.

“There’s an elementary school ahead. What time is it?” she asked.

He looked at his watch. “Ten-thirty. The children should be inside, and the parents gone by now.”

“Hope you’re right. Those morons are going to be flying through a school zone at three times the limit.” She eased off on the gas as the low, one-story cinder-block building came into view. “Where’d they go? I can’t see the van.”

“There!” He pointed. “They took a left on the side road. They’re heading for the main highway.”

She took the turn at forty-five, but the tires held, despite the squeal of protest. The van, obviously souped up, accelerated down the straight lane like a drag racer, widening the gap.

“That heap has some serious power,” Max commented. “Once they get to the good roads they’ll leave us in the dust.”

The truck was going eighty, but they were still losing ground, and the four-lane highway was less than a half mile ahead. Max knew there was no entrance ramp, just a stoplight. “Think he’ll try and run it? There’s no way he’ll make the turn.”

“He still hasn’t hit the brakes,” Kris yelled. “He’s gonna get hit for sure, or T-bone somebody.”

Cursing, Kris let off on the gas, touched the brakes, then started gearing down, the transmission roaring in protest. The image ahead of them was surreal, like watching a train wreck about to occur, but in slow motion.

Finally the brake lights on the van flashed as red as the traffic signal. The vehicle fishtailed violently, then entered onto the highway. The van slipped right in front of a big SUV, forcing the driver to practically stand on his brakes, then the lucky pair whipped across three more lanes of traffic like a bullet, untouched. Max could hear the scream of tires from an eighth of a mile away, and blue smoke and dust filled the intersection.

“Hang on, it’s gonna be close,” she yelled as her pickup’s brakes pulsed and stopped them cold after three sharp jerks. By the time it was all said and done, they were on the crosswalk, just feet from the stream of cars hurtling past in front of them. Cars continued to whiz by, although the SUV that had been nearly transfixed by the van had pulled over by the shoulder farther to the west.

The van, now racing up the hill toward an old natural gas plant, was nearly out of sight.

“Any way we can get across?” Max yelled, looking both ways and seeing nothing but traffic.

“Wanna run out there and blow a whistle? My truck and I will join you after the light changes.”

He slammed his hand down hard on the dashboard and cursed, seeing that the van had disappeared. “Why did you insist on driving if you weren’t willing to do what had to be done?”

“You would have played dodge car with my truck and my life? No way! I just saved both of our lives by not running that gauntlet. Instead of backseat driving you should be on the phone updating the police so they can pick up the chase.”

He knew there weren’t enough officers around to cut off every avenue of escape, but he called it in anyway, updating dispatch, then hung up. “We’ll have to go to the sheriff’s office and make a statement.”

The light finally changed, and she turned right, heading toward Farmington, the closest community with a sheriff’s department office.

Turning to glance at him, she saw that he’d placed the trigger lock back on her pistol and was returning it to its place beneath the seat. “Who were those guys, anyway? They can’t be my enemies, so they must be yours.”

Making a split-second decision, he decided she’d earned the right to know what was at stake. “Don’t be so sure of anything, not at this point. I believe those men were connected to the theft of the platinum.”

“The what?”

“The cargo, the merchandise, the stuff your sister and I were trying to deliver for the tribe. About a half-million dollars worth of jewelry-grade platinum was in that metal case, destined to be made into high-end jewelry by our craftsmen at the new tribal design facility.” He met her gaze. “And that’s for your ears only. The tribe doesn’t want half the state of New Mexico running around looking for the stuff. We’re searching for the raw material, not the finished designs. Tracing it would be impossible.”

“Platinum is worth a lot more than gold, too. Finally you’re giving me facts. So how about another? Why would those men come after us?” she demanded, as she continued driving east. “Or were they just after you? And if so, why?”

“Your sister hid the platinum before she died so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. I’m guessing those men were hoping we could lead them to it.”

“I get it,” she said, nodding slowly. “They want you, because you were there and knew my sister, and me, because they think I can second-guess her.”

He didn’t answer right away. “That’s the way I see it,” he said, after a beat.

His pause hadn’t escaped her. He was holding something else back—there was another secret tied to the mystery that had claimed her sister’s life. “There’s more to your story. Tell me the rest or you’re on your own from this point on.”

“There is something else,” he said, giving her a look of grudging admiration. “Your sister left a note, but only managed to get one word down—Remember— before she had to make a run for it,” he said.

“Remember what?” Kris asked, mulling it over in her mind. “That’s not much of a clue. Any idea what it means?”

“No, and that’s why I came to you. I thought that maybe together we could figure things out.”

“Was the note addressed to anyone in particular?”

“No, but at the time she probably thought I was either dead—or as good as. It would have made sense for her to have left that message for you.”

“And she didn’t address it because she was afraid that if Harris found it, he’d come after me?”

“That’s one theory I’ve been tossing around,” he admitted.

“And now you’re thinking that Harris’s partners found out about the note and that’s why they came after us? If that’s true, at least one of them must be working from the inside then.”

He nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

They rode in silence for the next several minutes, traffic getting heavier as they approached the city of Farmington, the largest community in the area.

“There’s something I need to know,” Max said at last. “What would you have done if we’d actually caught up to them, and you’d learned that those men had been involved in your sister’s death?”

“I would have done whatever was necessary to hold them for the police.” She glanced at him, then back at the road. “If you’re thinking I’d want revenge, you’re wrong. I’ve seen enough tit-for-tat killings in the past two years. But those people made a big mistake. They came after me. And by doing that, they’ve ensured I’ll go after them. When it comes to defending myself, I believe in being proactive.”

Max considered what she’d said. He agreed with it and found his respect for her growing. “So what are you plans?” he asked.

“I’m going to finish this,” Kris answered firmly.

“I’m going to find the men who killed my sister and bring them in. After that, if the platinum still hasn’t been found, I’ll concentrate on finding it so I can return it to the tribe. I’m sure that’s the way my sister would have liked me to honor her memory.”

He said nothing for several long moments. Finally he spoke. “Police business is filled with ambiguous lines. If you choose to cross those lines, you better have a clear idea of what you’re trying to do and how far you’re willing to go to get what you want. Things can get very messy, believe me.”

“Is that why you wanted to pursue them yourself?”

He regarded her silently for some time. She was smart and good at reading between the lines. Yet what he liked most about her was her confidence. She wouldn’t take crap from anyone. A man would have a lot to measure up to before she let him get close, and that was the kind of challenge he thrived under. A sudden primitive need he hadn’t counted on swept through him.

He forced himself to focus. This was no time to indulge in distractions—no matter how beautiful. “You just left a war zone,” he said in a firm, reasonable tone. “To go after the man who killed your sister will put you right back into the line of fire. Are you really ready for this?”

“Yes, I am. I had hoped to leave the violence far behind me once and for all. But this is something I have to see through.”

“These men will do just about anything to get what they want. You won’t be able to lower your guard for even one second. If we continue together, I’ll do my best to watch your back, but that’s not a guarantee that nothing will happen to you.” He waited, letting her consider the ramifications as they stopped at a light in Farmington.

“I have a question for you,” she said at last. “Are you exclusively interested in going after the platinum, or does what happened to my sister play a part in your investigation, too?”

The question took him by surprise. He’d expected her to ask him about the risks, not his motives. “I was ordered to find the platinum, but I’ll be doing both things at the same time. My partner, your sister, was my friend and I won’t let that go.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way. When they reached the sheriff’s station, Max glanced over at her. “We’ll get grilled hard by the officers. Be prepared.”

“My answers will be simple and straightforward, unlike yours, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your history, your part in everything that’s happened is…unclear,” she said slowly. “If I were you, I’d work on keeping my answers short and generic. You’re holding back information, Max, and any good officer will be able to pick up on that.”

“Secrets are part of any operation—and of life, too,” he answered, his voice somber.

Kris didn’t respond. Like violence, secrets had been a part of the world she’d hoped to leave behind. Yet Max’s world was obviously defined by secrets and seemed as essential as his own heartbeat.

When she glanced over at him she saw he’d trained his expression into one of total neutrality. Clearly, he hadn’t liked the way she’d been able to read him, so he was making it much harder for her now.

The success of that effort told her something else about Max. Trouble and danger were sitting right next to her.

KRIS WATCHED DETECTIVE Lassiter of the Sheriff’s Department stride around the small room, his face red and his lips tight. From his questions, it was clear the middle-aged, slightly pudgy detective believed that Max and she were part of a group of thieves who’d had a recent and deadly falling out.

Kris tapped her fingers on the table to the beat of a popular song playing only in her own mind, purposely throwing off his rhythm. He’d seriously ticked her off with his ridiculous allegations, and, trained to resist interrogations of all kinds, she was now making his life far more difficult.

“So,” he demanded, “Any idea why these men would want to abduct you and Natoni? Had it been just you, I could have come up with a dozen reasons right off the bat. An attractive woman alone—plenty of motives there. But with Natoni involved, the picture shifts, especially with his recent history.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Make it easy on yourself. Come clean. This was a business deal gone wrong, wasn’t it?”

“Some men jumped out of a van, and Mr. Natoni got tasered,” she said in a cold voice. “They did a sloppy job so Mr. Natoni was able to help me fight back. They pulled guns on us, too, so I wasn’t as concerned about their reasons as I was about mounting a good defense. I suppose it could have been an attempted carjacking or robbery since I’m the one who takes the receipts from my business to the bank. Either way, I’m a marine, and we make lousy victims.”

“So you gave chase.”

It hadn’t been a question. “At the time it was a logical thing to do. Once we had them on the run, I figured we’d continue to monitor their location until your deputies could show up and take over. Our calls are on record, right?”

He didn’t answer and began pacing around the room again. “Just back from the war zone, and looking for a little action to get the blood pumping again, eh?”

She struggled to keep her temper in check. “I saw enough conflict overseas, Detective. I came home hoping to find a pleasant routine I could settle into. But that’s not the way it went down today, so I adapted.”

He held her gaze. Then, at long last ostensibly satisfied with what he saw there, Lassiter nodded. “You and your sister were planning to run the nursery together?”

She shook her head. “Tina invested in the nursery, but she wasn’t interested in actually growing and selling plants.”

He took a seat and looked at his notes. “And you claim that this incident had nothing to do with your sister’s murder?”

“I don’t claim anything of the sort. You’re the detective. I have no idea why those men came after us. All I can give you are the facts,” she said, aware that he’d yet to mention anything about the platinum. “I’ve answered all your questions to the best of my ability, Detective Lassiter. Now I want some answers from you. Why was my sister killed? The police still haven’t clarified that for me and I’ve got a right to know.”

When he didn’t answer her right away, she took another tack. “From your questions, it’s clear that you think I’m somehow involved in what happened to Tina. So what harm is there in telling me the current theories floating around the Sheriff’s Office?”

He leaned back in his chair, stared at some indeterminate spot across the room, then looked directly at her. “I’ve already helped you. I’m also a marine, a reservist. That’s why I haven’t come down even harder on you, Ms. Reynolds. A courtesy, if you will, so take it as a win.”

She studied his expression. Lassiter’s brow was furrowed, his lips tight. He seemed to be at odds with himself. “And you also don’t believe I’m guilty of anything,” she said, taking a stab at it.

“Personal opinions don’t count for much around here unless they’re backed up with hard evidence,” he answered. “But you’re right, I can’t see it. First, I knew your sister and I’m one-hundred-percent certain she handled herself with honor till the end.”

“I appreciate your faith in Tina,” she answered with heartfelt gratitude.

He met her gaze and held it. “Now I’m going to tell you the same thing I once told Tina. You’ve chosen real bad company. The Navajo man you’re with left law enforcement a year or so ago, and, since then, his activities are a complete blank. He says he’s working for the tribe, but nobody I’ve spoken to seems to know exactly what that means. Something’s not right there.” He paused as if intending to say more, but then just shook his head.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Kris inquired.

“Do you think he had something to do with what happened to Tina?”

The detective hesitated. “Maybe he’s a righteous guy, maybe not. But, one marine to another, check your six.”

Kris recognized the jargon—watch your back. She nodded. “Count on it.”

Lassiter stood, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. In the stillness that followed she could hear Max being questioned in the next room. Scarcely breathing, she made it a point to listen.