Читать книгу Eagle Warrior - Jenna Kernan, Jenna Kernan - Страница 12
ОглавлениеMorgan felt suddenly unsure about entering her own kitchen. Officer Wetselline had accompanied her from the Herons’ home back here. And she knew her attacker was gone. But still her heart hammered as she stood poised to cross that threshold.
Flashes of the attack exploded like fireworks in her mind. Lisa’s scream. Her own voice. Run! The man growling as he yanked her backward against his fleshy body. Where is it?
“Ma’am?” asked the young patrolman behind her.
She glanced back at him, enfolding herself in a hug and rubbing at the gooseflesh that lifted on her arm.
“Getting cold,” she said, making excuses for her chattering teeth.
“Would you like me to walk you in?” he asked.
She smiled and was about to tell him that was unnecessary, but her stomach tightened and she felt dizzy at just the thought of walking down that hallway.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Thank you.”
His skeptical look told her she hadn’t fooled him.
She glanced about the empty interior. Her daughter’s checked nylon lunch bag sat on the counter with the sack of milk and groceries. The red-and-white soup can had rolled halfway across the dull surface. Otherwise everything looked normal. She stepped gingerly inside and felt the terror close in as she realized how close her daughter had been to the intruder. Her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder. She swallowed and then called out to Detective Bear Den.
“I’m back.”
Morgan glanced out the door, past the officer to the lights of her neighbor’s kitchen. She knew that Lisa was safe with Trish and Guy Heron. Her neighbors had naturally been concerned about the break-in, but she assured them that the guy had been caught and that she just needed to clean the place up before retrieving her daughter. They had been wonderful, as always. The Herons’ daughter, Ami, was Lisa’s best friend and the two of them had disappeared into Ami’s room moments after their arrival.
Where is it?
The chill climbed up Morgan’s neck.
Where was what? she wondered.
Ray Strong was nowhere in sight, but Detective Bear Den stepped out from the hallway and paused in the eat-in kitchen beside the oval table. His tread was light for such a big man. She had known him since elementary school when he had begun growing early and fast. Lord, he was big. She also remembered his brother, Carter, because his twin did not look a thing like Jack. None of the younger Bear Den boys had Jack’s build or looks either. It had caused Jack trouble all his life.
She vaguely remembered that Ray Strong had been connected with something bad.
“How is Lisa?” asked the detective.
“Scared. But all right. What was he looking for?” she asked. Where is it? Was that voice going to haunt her dreams?
“What makes you think he was looking for something?”
“He broke in. Tossed things around in my father’s room. I thought...” She stopped talking. Should she tell Bear Den what her attacker had asked?
“Have there been any repercussions from your father’s involvement with Ovidio Sanchez?”
What a polite way to ask if her father assassinating the prime suspect in a mass slaying had affected them.
“Lisa has been having a hard time at school. Kids can be mean.”
“And you?”
“I had to switch to days because Dad isn’t here at night anymore.” And her daughter had lost the only father she’d ever known and Morgan didn’t understand why her father had done such a thing. It was like standing on the shore of a river only to discover that the water had undercut the bank. She and her daughter had tumbled and were still falling toward an uncertain future. Morgan knew that soon she would have to petition the tribe for assistance and the prospect shamed her. She didn’t say any of that aloud, however, and only just managed to mutter that it had been hard.
Bear Den’s brows dropped lower over his pale eyes. “I am asking if you have received any threats.”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Did you know what your father was planning?”
“The police at Darabee already asked me that. I was interviewed over there.”
“By Jefferson Rowe?”
“Who?”
“Police Chief Rowe?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. A detective. I don’t remember his name. He asked me if I knew beforehand, too. I didn’t.” And she felt stupid that she had noticed nothing unusual...and sad that her father had not confided in her and angry at what he had done. She glanced toward the door. “Have you seen a gray cat?”
“No.”
She tried calling Cookie from the back door but with the strangers about and the flashing lights, she didn’t expect to see the cat until things calmed down.
Her interruption did not distract the detective from his line of questioning.
“Did your father leave you anything? Instructions. A letter.”
“Like a suicide note?” Morgan was still hugging herself. The April air turned cold at night in the mountains so she moved to close the kitchen door. Ray Strong anticipated her actions and got there first. Her hand brushed his before she could draw back. The contact was quick so she could not understand why her insides tightened and her breath caught. The door clicked and she met Ray’s dark compelling eyes. One of his brows quirked.
Bear Den cleared his throat, snapping Morgan’s attention back to the detective’s question. Did she have foreknowledge of her father’s plan to commit murder?
“He didn’t say anything. The morning before the shooting he took his truck. He’s not supposed to drive anymore. I was sleeping when he left. I get home from work about eight a.m. and Dad usually gets Lisa up and I get her ready for school. Then I usually sleep from nine to about three. He wasn’t here when Lisa got off the bus but he was here before my shift. He wouldn’t tell me where he had gone. The next day he...” She hesitated, tugging at her ear. This topic still made her feel nauseous and baffled all at once. “He left and afterward they arrested him in Darabee. I was waiting for Lisa’s bus when tribal police and the FBI got here. They searched the house. They took some things. Maybe they found something like that.”
“They didn’t. Usually when someone is planning such a thing, they make preparations. Say goodbye.”
She thought back to the evening before when she saw him last. “He asked me to pick up a chocolate cake.”
Bear Den scowled. “Cake.”
“He wanted cake. Gave me the money.”
“What money?”
Now she scowled. “For the cake. I don’t buy that junk and he shouldn’t have it either. But I bought the cake and we had that after dinner on Thursday night for no reason.” She stared at the detective. “Was that it? The cake? Like some kind of going away party?”
Jack Bear Den shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Morgan stared at her kitchen tiles and tried to keep from crying.
“Ms. Hooke, my friend Ray spoke to the guy who broke into your house. The man indicated he was searching for money. He said your father cashed a bank check for two hundred thousand dollars in Darabee.”
She snorted at first, thinking he was kidding and then her jaw dropped open as she saw he was deadly serious.
“I have to report that to the FBI. So what I want to know from you is, did you know about this money?”
She couldn’t even speak, so she shook her head.
“Do you know where the money currently is?”
“No.” Her words were a whisper. “I don’t. You think he actually had that much money?”
Jack nodded. “I believe your father was accepting payment.”
“Payment? What could he possibly do that was worth that kind of...”
Morgan’s knees buckled and Bear Den caught her, drew out a chair and guided her into it. Her fanny hit with enough force to jar her gaze to the detective.
“This can’t be happening.”
Bear Den looked down the hall. “Ray? Can you come out?”
Her protector emerged from the hall. The front of his shirt was soaking wet and stuck to his chest, revealing the ripped muscles of his abdomen. Morgan’s breath caught at the perfection of his form.
“Why are you all wet?” she asked.
Bear Den followed the direction of her gaze. Ray shrugged. “Washed off the blood.”
The detective groaned and Morgan blinked, finally forcing her attention away, but took one more long look because a sight like that should be committed to memory.
Bear Den took a seat across from her and Ray retrieved the one between them, spun it and sat, his long legs straddling the back. Then he hugged the top and rested his chin on his hands. At least she couldn’t see the wet spot or his tight abs any longer.
Bear Den cleared his throat. “I was just relaying what the intruder told you.”
Ray’s gaze flicked from the detective to her. “You have some problems, Morgan.”
“What are you two implying exactly?”
Ray deferred to the detective.
“It appears that your father cashed a check twenty-four hours prior to his attack on the prime suspect in the Lilac Copper Mine shooting.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ray tucked in his legs and lifted his chin from his hands. “Your father was a paid hitman. Now word is out about the payday, and that means you can expect more like that nitwit I found in your hallway.”
Morgan’s stomach heaved. She pressed a hand over her pounding heart.
“More.”
“More and more competent.”
“Competent?”
“Dangerous. The kind of men that don’t pull hair. And they won’t stop until you deliver that money.”
“What money? I don’t have it.”
“Well I suggest you find it fast. The trick will be to keep you safe in the meantime.”
She sat back in the chair. “How am I supposed to do that, exactly?”
“That’s where I come in.”
Morgan looked from Ray to Detective Bear Den.
“You need a bodyguard, Morgan. Someone tough, resourceful and capable of protecting you.”
Her gaze flicked back to Ray Strong.
“Ray has agreed to act as your bodyguard,” said Detective Bear Den.
He stood there watching her like a hungry wolf in his transparent T-shirt rippling with contained potency. He was just the sort of male to cause a woman all kinds of trouble.
“I can’t afford to put gas in my car,” Morgan said. “How am I going to pay for...” She let her traitorous eyes caress him and his mouth twitched. His eyes glittered as if he knew what she was thinking. “I couldn’t afford to even feed him let alone pay him.”
“You can’t afford not to,” said Bear Den.
Morgan regarded Ray Strong. The man was tough, powerful and had already shown himself capable of protecting her and Lisa. He also ignited in Morgan an unwelcome burst of lust coupled with a rational sense of fear. The man was dangerous and the threat he posed was more than physical.
She shook her head. “This is a bad idea.”
Bear Den spoke again, his voice deep and resonant. “Are you familiar with the Turquoise Guardians?”
“My dad’s medicine society? Sure.”
“There is a sect within that organization called Tribal Thunder. This is a warrior band.”
Morgan didn’t think they still had warriors, not the real kind that defended their families to the death, made war on their enemies and took what they liked. She found her gaze slipping back to Ray like a thief on a night raid.
“I don’t know of Tribal Thunder.”
“Ray is a member of that sect. So am I. We’ve sworn an oath to defend our tribe.”
Now Ray took up the conversation. His voice did funny things to her insides.
He thumbed over his shoulder at her closed back door. “That little twerp is going to spill his guts. Word will get out. There is no calling it back. If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for your daughter.”
Word will get out.
Lisa. Her gaze went to the back door. What had she caught while her mother was attacked? What had she overheard the officers say afterward and most importantly, what had she told their neighbors?
“I need to get Lisa back.” Was that her voice? It didn’t even sound like hers.
“I’ll have one of my officers fetch her,” said Jack.
“No!” Morgan headed out the door at a run and Ray caught her easily. He didn’t grab her or try to stop her, just jogged along beside her across the dirt and gravel that separated her door from the Herons’.
She burst through the back door to find Guy Heron alone in the kitchen with Lisa. He had a hold of each of her daughter’s shoulders. Every hair on Morgan’s neck lifted. At seeing Morgan, his expression changed from eagerness to guilt. His gaze flashed from her to Ray Strong, now standing behind her. Now she saw fear.
“Oh, hey,” said Guy. “Everything all right?”
Morgan glanced to Lisa. Her daughter looked frightened and she did not need to call to her. Morgan just lifted a hand and Lisa ran to her mother. Their hands clasped and Morgan drew herself up as she tugged Lisa behind her.
“We were just talking about what happened tonight. Just your dad’s room, huh?” Guy’s voice held a note of force levity but the room had gone deadly quiet.
“Take Lisa home,” said Ray.
Morgan turned to go and then paused as she recalled the man Ray had beaten in her house. She’d seen him dragged out by two officers. His face had been swollen, raw and bloody. Morgan glanced at Mr. Heron. The man had been interrogating her daughter. Morgan knew it and so did Mr. Strong. The fury and fear mingled into a hard lump in Morgan’s stomach. Then she looked at Ray Strong, who had dipped his chin and fixed his gaze on Guy in a way that seemed like anticipation. The muscles at his neck bunched in coiled potential energy.
He tore his gaze from Guy to meet hers.
“You’re hired, Mr. Strong.”