“Someone’s coming,” Dana said.
He listened for a second, then nodded. “We’ll keep watch from the truck in case we have to make a fast getaway. Let’s go,” he said. A moment later she was buckling her seat belt while he sat behind the wheel.
A call came in on his cell phone and Ranger picked it up. The caller quickly identified himself as the tribal police officer, now approaching the scene in his patrol unit.
“I was told to make sure I let you know when I got close,” the officer said. “Agent Harris said he would speak to you later.”
Ranger nodded, seeing the tribal unit now, a quarter mile away. The brotherhood was making itself felt. Otherwise Harris would have been more of a problem. His brother had undoubtedly called in a few markers.
As they left the area, Ranger made two quick calls. The first was to his brother, updating him in a short staccato burst, and then to Tony Birdsong, asking him to pick up the sedan from where he’d left it.
“Things just keep getting worse, don’t they?” Dana said softly. “For all practical purposes I’ve got a bull’s eye on my back, and you’re fair game because you’re with me.”
He didn’t answer. The truth was he was also in danger because he was part of the brotherhood.
When his cell phone rang again, Ranger flipped it open. Hunter’s voice came through clearly.
“Here’s what I’ve got for you. The big pickup used to run you two off the road yesterday is being processed by the FBI. It was stolen, so they’ll have to rely on fingerprints and whatever other physical evidence they turn up. Tribal officers are questioning the people at the trading post who saw the Anglo man who ambushed Dana. Jonas gave them a description, too, but his sight isn’t what it used to be, and his clerk didn’t give the man more than a passing glance because he was with other customers. There were no security cameras.”
“There’s no telling who’s on Trujillo ’s hit list,” Ranger said. “Watch your back.”
“I hope they do come after me. I’ve got some backup in place. They’ll get one heckuva fight,” Hunter said then added, “stay sharp out there.”
“Don’t worry. Like the wind, we’ll slip right through their grasp.” Hearing his brother’s chuckle, Ranger ended the call.
“We need a base of operations-somewhere they can’t track us,” Ranger said.
“Agreed. But where?”
“I’m going to take you to my place. It’s not registered under my name for a reason-when I don’t want to be found, I’m not.”
“Nobody knows where you live?” she asked incredulously.
“I have two places. One’s near town and pretty much public knowledge. The other, the one I’m talking about, is my getaway-the one I go to when I need time to myself.”
“Then let’s go. I’m tired of running. Everywhere we go, we run into my enemies.”
“Your enemies are also mine.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “I really wish that weren’t the case.”
“You want to protect me?”
She nodded. “And why not?”
He felt an answering tug deep inside himself, but pushed it aside immediately. To guard her effectively, he’d have to stay on track.
“When we get to my place, I’ll contact some people I know, and find out if the police have any leads they haven’t shared with us. I’ll also do my best to find out where Trujillo is most vulnerable. A good offense will be our best defense.”
“Sounds like you’ve already got an idea,” she said.
“Yeah, I do, but I still need to work a few things out.”
Chapter Fifteen
His getaway turned out to be a simple wood-frame farmhouse on the north bank of the San Juan River west of Shiprock. The home was a rectangle of wood siding and fiberglass shingles, a style that could have easily been found in Utah or California instead of the Navajo Nation.
As they stepped up onto the wooden porch Dana noticed the same circular symbol carved into the door frame that she’d seen at the first house they’d stayed. It was scarcely more than a scratch in the wood near the floorboard, but it was there.
Unlocking his door, Ranger turned and, following her gaze, saw what she’d been studying. “I have some creative termites,” he said with a half smile. “Pesky creatures.”
She said nothing, but her thoughts were racing. It didn’t seem likely that Ranger’s home was a police safe house. It made more sense to believe Ranger was a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors and this was a symbol another member in trouble would recognize.
From what she’d seen of Ranger’s training, and hearing more than once that he was on assignment and trusted by the police, that didn’t seem like much of a stretch. From what Hastiin Sani had told her, the Brotherhood of Warriors were the best of the best and Ranger definitely fit that description.
Dana was intuitively aware of the way he was watching her as she walked inside his home. They were so closely attuned, it was a little bit frightening. Was this love…or was she letting her imagination run wild?
“I need to do something,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Will you keep an eye on the road we came in on? I don’t think we were followed, but I’m not going to underestimate these people.”
“No problem.”
He took a few steps down the hall, then turned his head. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. You can grab something to eat while you keep watch.”
After finding a loaf of wheat bread and some slices of chicken breast and cheese in the kitchen, Dana made two quick sandwiches and left one for Ranger. As she ate her own sandwich, she stood beside the window, looking back in the direction they’d come. The house was at the end of the road, so nobody could come in from another direction except on foot.
Dana heard Ranger moving about in one of the back rooms, but the door was closed and she couldn’t make out his conversation. After fifteen minutes he returned.
Seeing him coming down the hall, she called out. “There’s a sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Have you seen anything or anyone?” he asked, coming up from behind her and taking a look for himself.
“Nothing but crows, a cottontail and a ground squirrel. No people, or moving shadows, or cars,” she answered. “I was watching on the way here, too. No one followed us.”
“These days, with all the electronic gadgets, you don’t have to be right on someone’s tail to follow them,” he warned.
She conceded with a nod. “Have you learned anything we can use?”
“All the men who were in Ernesto Trujillo’s original gang have been identified and accounted for. That verifies what we already suspected. Ignacio is recruiting soldiers on his own-mostly small-time locals and off-the-reservation street punks.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll also hire Navajo men who can blend in and pose an even greater threat to us,” she said.
Ranger shook his head. “Not likely. We’ve got…friends. Word has gone out, and the criminal element here on the rez has received a warning they won’t ignore. Ignacio won’t be able to recruit from inside our borders.”
Ranger had left his cell phone on the table next to his keys. When it rang, she handed it to him. From the expression on his face, she could tell that it was very bad news.
Ranger hung up, went to one of the rooms in the back, then returned within a minute carrying a rifle. A pistol was stuck in his belt, and she could see clips of ammunition in his pocket. “We’ve got to get moving.”
“But we just got here.”
“The man who stocked the kitchen with food for us was found dead outside a gas station near Shiprock-killed by a sniper while he was gassing up his pickup. The shot apparently came from long range, so it’s not likely he gave us up, but it’s too risky to stay here now. Others will be watching the road to make sure we’re not followed, but you and I need to find another place.”