Читать книгу Navajo Justice - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 14

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.

Annoyed with the turn her thoughts had taken, she focused on the present. Burke was, simply put, a complication in her life—one she just didn’t need. She’d use his professional expertise and pay him and, in that way, make it clear that although she’d accepted his hospitality, she wasn’t interested in a personal relationship.

When they entered Burke’s home, the place was silent. Careful not to wake Elena, Laura started down the hall, following Burke, who was going to get some extra blankets from the linen closet. As she reached her room, Laura crouched down to pet Wolf, who’d followed her. “Are you sleeping with me tonight?” she asked softly.

Burke actually choked when he heard the question. His head snapped around quickly, then he saw her speaking to the dog.

Laura saw the look on his face and realized what had happened, but before she could comment, he focused his attention on the dog.

“Wolf, come!” he ordered, and Wolf complied instantly.

“I wouldn’t have minded if he’d slept at the foot of the bed,” Laura said.

“No way. He’ll sleep on his blanket in the hall and guard all of us.”

“All right.” Laura took the blankets Burke offered her, entered the room and shut the door behind her. This room—this entire house—was Burke’s domain. She could feel him here in the furnishings he’d chosen, and in the dark, rich colors that contrasted with the light walls and ceiling. Even the very air she breathed held his unmistakable mark, making her senses come alive.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered her thoughts. This just wouldn’t do. The attraction between them was too strong and too dangerous to indulge, even a little bit.

Burke had walked into her life and, unless she was careful, would turn her entire world upside down.

She sighed softly. Fate had conspired against her, and instinct told her that nothing would ever be quite the same again.

USING THE PHONE in the den, Burke called in and made his report. Handler didn’t like to be kept waiting. Burke had spoken to him when he’d gone to retrieve the wood for Laura’s back door, and asked for a trace on the license number and vehicle the intruder had used to escape. At the time, he’d promised to call back within a half hour in case Handler had tracked it down. But Burke hadn’t been able to do so until now.

“Handler” was the code name for the owner of the agency. His identity was shrouded in secrecy, and though Burke was the most senior operative and supervised the other investigators, he’d never learned who Handler was. For what he’d been told were security reasons, Handler’s identity remained a secret, even from him.

“So she’s with you now?” Handler asked, verifying what Burke had reported.

“Yes, Laura Santos is here and safe for now,” he answered. Remembering the softness of her lips and the way her body had melted into his, safe was probably not the word he should have used.

“And she doesn’t know that you’ve already been hired to protect her?”

“No, and I really don’t think she has the remotest idea what’s going on, or why she’s a target.”

“I know you’ll stay on top of things.”

The idle remark, in this instance, made a very graphic and vivid image form in his mind. His body grew instantly hard.

“Keep me posted, Burke.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve e-mailed you the information you asked for on the license plate of the suspect’s vehicle. You’ll find it next time you log on.”

As he placed the receiver down, Burke leaned back in the chair. Handler’s electronically altered voice had originally bothered him, but he was getting used to it now. As far as he was concerned, it was a small inconvenience that came with a job he loved. His years with Gray Wolf had been good ones, and once he’d become supervisor, he’d given up his code name to remain the only traceable operative at the firm.

He was the number one operative of an elite team, took on the most dangerous assignments himself, and, best of all, he’d avoided working a nine-to-five job—something that ranked close to getting a case of malaria on the Burke Silentman scale of really bad news.

The house was still and the hour late, but he wasn’t ready to go to bed yet. As was his habit, he switched on the computer at his desk to check his e-mail, and while the program booted up, considered the events of the last few hours. This whole case was a strange one, and had been from the beginning. Since that day three weeks ago when Doug had sent him an e-mail from West Medias, a country in Europe known for its warring factions—an e-mail that had been mysteriously cut off midsentence—things had been far from normal.

Burke fished his wallet out of his back pocket, then reached for a photo of him and Doug. It had been taken shortly after they’d completed Intelligence training in the Special Forces.

He smiled, looking at the younger version of himself and his friend. Throughout his entire life, after the death of his brother, Hoops, he’d only had one close buddy, Douglas Begay. Like him, Doug had seen hard times on the rez. They’d joined the Special Forces together as soon as they could to escape the poverty of the Navajo Nation.

Over the years, they’d managed to stay in close contact. But all Burke really knew of Doug’s life now was that he officially worked in Europe for a legitimate publishing house—a job Burke had deduced was nevertheless a cover for what he really did. His buddy was heavily involved with Freedom International, a privately funded watchdog organization that championed human rights.

Then, out of the blue, he’d sent that e-mail letter hiring Gray Wolf to protect the writer, Laura Santos—someone Doug had never met, as far as Burke knew. Unfortunately, the e-mail hadn’t only been incomplete—it had been impossibly vague. The only thing Burke knew for a fact was that Doug wouldn’t have hired them to protect Laura unless it was imperative that they do so. Recent events seemed to bear that out.

Yet the only connection he could see between Doug and Laura was that Doug worked for a small publisher abroad—and Laura was a romance novelist. Laura’s background hadn’t revealed any link to West Medias.

He needed to contact Doug and find out more, but there wasn’t any way for him to do that without heading overseas for a visit, and that just wasn’t possible. He was afraid to try and send an e-mail or a letter, or attempt a phone call, in case Doug was in as much trouble as he suspected, and was being monitored.

Checking his e-mail, Burke found only a message from Handler informing him that the license tag was stolen, and probably the car as well. Finding nothing from Doug, Burke turned the computer off. It was time to call it a night. He walked down the hall silently, leaving Wolf to guard them, and went inside his room, closing the door behind him.

Burke stripped off his clothes, letting them fall on the floor. He preferred sleeping in the nude, but considering the events of today, he decided to wear a pair of jogging pants for pajamas in case of an emergency.

Setting his weapon on the nightstand, within easy reach, he crawled into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. The cool touch of the sheets against his chest reminded him of the silkiness of Laura’s hair and the smoothness of her skin. He’d never forget her taste and the way she’d felt in his arms.

Annoyed with himself, he pushed her out of his mind. He had normal, healthy urges, just like any other man, but he’d never found it this difficult to keep anyone out of his thoughts, particularly a woman he’d just met.

Of course, he’d known from the moment he’d kissed her that things would be different with Laura. This case would test him, but the real danger would have little to do with the men that might come after them before it was all over.

With a groan, he shifted to his side and closed his eyes. No more thoughts. Not tonight.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind filled with vivid images of spring blossoms, a dark-haired beauty and a passion that wouldn’t be denied.