Renee Simons Special Edition (55 page)

She'd spent the night at her computer examining Dar's file and learning more about his activities for the Federal Security Agency than she'd ever known. By the time she'd locked away the CDs, she was fairly certain that he'd been as calculating and cold-blooded as she'd accused Stormwalker of being. She would have to deal with that eventually. Eventually, but not just yet. Until she was sure she understood the implications of what she'd read, she would continue to believe in her memories of Dar and the love they'd shared.

Her hours at the computer had left her stiff and achy. She reached into the drawer beneath her bed for the workout clothes and jogging shoes that had gone unused for too long. Outside, an early morning breeze caressed her bare arms and thighs as she did her warm-up stretches and cooled her as she ran through the small village. On her third and last round trip along the dusty main street, Stormwalker emerged from the barn leading the black mare. He draped the reins over the corral railing and fell in beside Zan.

"Do you do this often?" he said.

She paused to catch her breath and shook her head. "Just working out the kinks."

"Lady and I were about to do the same."

"She's beautiful."

"Do you ride?"

"A little, but I haven't for a long time." Not since Dar's death.

"How about riding with us sometime?" The question had been casual enough, but the vulnerability hovering in his eyes betrayed how much he'd risked just by asking.

What kind of stake did he have in her answer? She understood he would like to win her over to his cause, of course, but this was something else: something deeper, more elemental, that touched a surprisingly empathetic chord.

"That would be all right, I guess. Sometime."

Pleasure lit his face. "We'll make it soon."

"I'd better get going," she said. "I have some errands to take care of in town."

As she turned to go, she heard the horse gallop off in the opposite direction. Something had just changed between them and she didn't know how she felt about that. 

At just past noon she pulled into the parking lot of the Sheriff's Department headquarters and parked in the area designated for visitors. She'd stopped by Kenny's office to return his file, but when she got to the court house, he was out. Instead of leaving the folder in its sealed manila envelope with a security guard, she decided not to take chances with the sensitive material. She returned it to her knapsack and left knowing she still was not ready to return to her work. Maybe Katti was available for lunch. 

She looked around at the facility. Topped by radio towers and a satellite dish, headquarters occupied a block of its own. A model of pre-fab banality in beige vinyl siding, it stood bracketed between parking lots that contained more beige in the form of pickups and Jeeps bearing departmental logos. Inside, the monochromatic scene repeated itself with bland precision. She shook her head. No matter what their jurisdiction, most police stations suffered from the same lack of personality.

She and Katti approached the front desk at the same time. The younger woman gave her a tentative smile. "Good afternoon, Zan."

"Hi, Katti. Do you have plans for lunch?"

"Just a brown bag and I can leave it in the fridge for tomorrow." Her smile broadened and fed Zan's own.

"Any suggestions for where to eat?"

"Have you been to Maggie's yet?" Katti asked.

"No."

"Then you've missed out on the best burger and fries in the jurisdiction."

They found a table near the center of Maggie's Eatery and sipped coffee while they waited for lunch. Zan glanced around the small restaurant. The worn wooden booths and chairs shone with fresh polish. Blue and white checkered table cloths mirrored the café curtains hung from thick brass rods at the front window.

"What brings you into town," the younger woman asked.

"Just some errands."

"I noticed you're parked behind the newspaper building. So I guess you've met Mike Eagle."

"Yes."

"What about Michael Stormwalker? You'd know if you had, of course. He's quite a hunk."

"I have, but how do you know him?" Zan didn't add that Katti seemed too young to be so aware of a man at least fifteen years her senior.

Katti shrugged. "Oh, everyone knows him. Or knows about him. He's sort of an . . . icon around here. Has been as long as I can remember."

"Even after what's happened?" Zan fought to keep the note of skepticism from her voice. "Your people are very forgiving, aren't they?"

Katti's smile fled. "Not everyone who's been in prison is a bad person. Sometimes they just make mistakes."

Zan could have kicked herself for her tactlessness. "I'm sorry, Katti. I forgot about your sister."

Katti nodded. "It's easier to remember when you're watching someone you care about struggle to make a new life for themselves. Folks make allowances for someone famous like Michael Stormwalker. My sister's just an ordinary person and when people feel the way you do, that just makes rebuilding her life more difficult."

  The waitress set down their platters and topped off their coffee cups. A hum of conversation blended with the sounds of food preparation and the rattle of an old fashioned cash register near the door. As the level of sound rose, Zan turned to watch a man in uniform make his way between the tables, greeting and being greeted by diners. She recognized the deputy who'd pulled her over.

"That's Billy Winter heading over here," Katti said. "There's no way to avoid his company. I hope you don't mind."

"Well, Officer McLaren. Didn't realize you knew our Katti." The deputy slid into a chair. "Mind if I join you ladies?" The waitress came over and Billy looked up at her with a smile. "My usual, Sherri, if you please."

"Did it ever occur to you that we might have wanted some privacy?"

Billy looked at Katti and nodded with exaggerated understanding. "Girl talk, huh?"

"Oh, give us a break, puh-lease."

"It's all right, Katti," Zan said. She, too, found Billy's condescending tone annoying, but his connection to Kenny intrigued her. "We have room for one more."

"So how's your vacation going, McLaren?"

"Fine, thanks."

"Do much sightseeing?"

"Some."

"Gonna go to the powwow this weekend?"

"You really should attend and see our people at their best," Katti said. "The dancing, the color and the fun are as much a part of us as anything you may have seen so far."

"Yeah," Billy said. "You gotta watch the rodeo and shop at the craft booths. There'll be plenty of the jewelry and pottery you eastern folks seem to love so much."

Lord, Zan thought, this guy needs an attitude adjustment.

"Billy, don't be such a jerk," Katti said. "Easterners aren't the only folks who like native jewelry and pottery. And that's not the only reason people come. They want to see the culture, too."

"What the hell's eatin' you, Katti? I can't seem to say anything that pleases you."

"Maybe if you weren't so damned patronizing. . . ."

The waitress brought Billy's lunch. He glanced at Katti. "What can I do to get back in your good graces?"

Katti watched him steadily for a moment, then gave him an almost challenging look. "Zan and I've been talking about Michael Stormwalker. You know him pretty well don't you?"

Billy gave her a jaundiced look. "Yeah, I know him."

"I mean, didn't you hang out with him when you were kids?"

"How would you know that? You were just a baby."

"I've heard stories."

"Then you also must've heard we stopped 'hanging out' in middle school."

"I was just telling Zan that's he's something of a hero around here, but you don't like him much do you?"

"He's something all right, but hero ain't it."

Eager to hear an opinion that reinforced her own negative view of the major, Zan leaned forward. "Why do you say that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He stabbed his spoon into a bowl of chili. "The guy's a traitor. An officer and a traitor. While the rest of us grunts just did our duty the best way we knew how, he was lookin' to make a buck by selling out to the enemy. Nothin' heroic about that. Not in my book."

"Anything else?"

Suddenly wary, Winter watched Zan through narrowed eyes. "Why should there be anything else?"

Zan shrugged. "I don't know. Instinct, I guess."

"You been talking to that sonofabitch Stormwalker? He set you on my trail?"

"I had no idea you'd be here. If you remember, we didn't invite you over. You invited yourself."

"Yeah, well, I just uninvited myself." He pushed away from the table and carried his lunch to the counter.

Katti stared at Billy's back, then glanced at Zan. "He's almost irrational when it comes to Stormwalker."

"Why?"

"The way I heard the story, it started when they were kids. Billy was the leader of the boys until Stormwalker challenged him and beat him. The boys began to look to him instead of Billy, who's hated him ever since."

"Competition between two kids doesn't seem strong enough motivation for a lifelong hatred, does it?" Zan asked. "I'm curious, though. If you knew all that, why did you set him up?"

"I wanted to see his reaction." Katti shrugged. "I know that sounds terrible, but I just want him to get over his anger against the man and get on with his life. The way things stand, he's so full of bitterness, there's no room for anything else."

Katti's dark eyes held an expression of sadness but Zan resisted the temptation to delve. They paid the check and walked back to the sheriff's office.

They said goodbye at the door. "Next time you're in town let me know," Katti said. "We can have lunch again, if you want." She gave Zan another shy look as if not quite sure how she would receive the invitation.

"I'd like that. I don't have any friends out here."

Katti touched her arm lightly. "You do, now." She smiled and went back to work. Zan went to the car and started back to the reservation.

*****

She enjoyed the heat and the rush of dry wind around the open cab of the MG. The afternoon sun heated the air, creating shimmering waves that straddled the asphalt roadway like a shiny inland sea. For such days was the low-slung convertible made.

She remembered Deputy Winter's warning and looked at the speedometer. The flat, open countryside through which the highway ran had deceived her into thinking she drove slower than she actually did. She eased up on the gas pedal. In the distance, a man walked along the side of the road. She steered away from the shoulder and hugged the broken white line dividing the east and westbound lanes.

As she approached him, she recognized the unusual height, the broad shoulders straining at the confines of a sweat-dampened work shirt, the strong, muscular back that tapered to a narrow waist and the powerful legs encased in worn blue jeans. With a grin, she admired the way his firm buttocks filled those jeans, rolling with masculine grace as he took each long step. When her imagination led her to wonder how they would feel beneath her hands she laughed aloud. She'd begun this mission hating the man, but somehow, he'd brought her back to life.

She pulled in a yard ahead of Stormwalker and waited for him to come abreast of her car. "Want a lift?" she asked.

"Thanks." He spoke without any enthusiasm.

"Would you rather walk?"

"Not now that you stopped."

He folded his long frame into the seat beside her, giving the vehicle the dimensions of a kiddie car. For the first time, she realized the MG just might be inadequate.

"What are you doing here?"

"Walking."

"Coming from town?"

"Yup."

"Please spare me that laconic Indian unkcé, Stormwalker." She glanced at him long enough to see a tiny smile turn up one corner of his mouth.

"Where'd you learn that nasty word?"

"Mac. He said I should use it any time I thought you were snowing me. What were you doing in town?"

"Had to see Kenny Becker."

"You could have ridden with me. Next time ask."

"I prefer to handle things on my own."

"Too macho to ask for help?"

"Being on my own for a change seemed like too good an idea." He shifted his body to find a fraction more leg room and to consider for a moment that her remark had been a little too close to the truth for his comfort. "I'm trying to enjoy my freedom while I've still got it."

"Well, I can certainly understand that, but hitching a ride doesn't require a major commitment."

Stormwalker watched as she stared at the road ahead. The tip of her tongue flicked across her bottom lip, leaving a glistening film that enhanced her mouth's soft fullness. He felt something stir deep within him as he considered how her mouth would feel beneath his. His gaze wandered over her face.