“That’ll be tricky, but I’ll sleep on it,” he said.
After driving south through Shiprock, he turned down a dirt track, then circled back east, skirting a big arroyo. Finally he parked the truck in front of the only structure visible for miles, an unusual-looking hogan at the base of a hillside.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around and trying to get a fix on their new location. Dawn was coming soon, giving Dana just enough light to orient herself.
“It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it?” But we’re not. There’s a trading post a few miles southwest of here, and we’re just a mile west of the highway. We made a big circle, nearly.”
Ranger took the wool blanket from behind the seat of the pickup, then led the way inside. “My grandfather performed many healing ceremonies here at one time.”
“He was a medicine man? A Singer?”
He nodded, looking around, a faraway look on his face. “He was one of our best. I used to sit right there,” he said, pointing with his lips, “while he told me the old stories about our gods and how our ceremonies came to be.” He paused for a long moment. “When it’s quiet, I can almost hear his voice.”
“I’ve never seen a hogan like this, made of poles tied together instead of logs.”
He ran his hand over the sturdy wooden posts. “This type of hogan is called the Forked Together House. It’s the result of lessons given to us by Talking God, the greatest of all Navajo gods.”
Dana looked around. The floor of the hogan had been dug out a foot or more, leaving a bench near the wall that could also serve for storage. Everything had a simple beauty that spoke of decades long past. The blankets on the ground were frayed, but she could see the grandeur they’d once held.
“You or your brother must come out here every once in a while to maintain the place. There are no weeds, leaves, or any sign of four-footed ‘visitors’.”
“We take turns. I checked the place out last month.”
He spread their blanket on the ground, lay down, then stretched out his arms to receive her. “You can rest against me. My shoulder will be your pillow.”
“There was a time when I couldn’t go to sleep unless I was safe at home,” she murmured, settling against him, then drifting off.
“You’ve found a new one, sawe,” he said, using the Navajo word for sweetheart, “in my arms.”
DANA SENSED Ranger’s absence even before she’d opened her eyes. Sunlight was filtering past the worn blanket that served as a door as she sat up. Realizing she was alone in the cold hogan, fear gripped her.
Then she heard Ranger’s rich baritone voice nearby, rising in a haunting chant that spoke of history and the wisdom of the ages. Moving quietly as to not disturb him, she went outside and saw him open his jish, take a pinch of pollen out, touch it to the tip of his tongue, then throw it upward toward the heavens.
Although she hadn’t made a sound, he’d sensed her presence. “Did I wake you?” he asked, turning to face her.
Only by not being there. But she kept that answer to herself. “That was a beautiful chant,” she said.
“It’s a Hozonji, a song of blessing,” he answered, then wanting her to understand him, added, “When you take care of what’s most important first, other things eventually fall into place.”
Dana nodded in silent agreement. Ranger’s strength came from more than his toned body, training and intelligence. His beliefs made him the man he was.
She followed him back inside the hogan and helped him gather their things. “Do you think your friend will get back to us today with the rest of the information we need?”
He nodded. “I’m almost certain of it.”
“We should try to eat along the way,” she said as they got underway, circling around toward the highway.
“There’ll be people selling naniscaada sandwiches, made with homemade tortillas or fry bread, out of the back of their trucks between here and Shiprock. That’s the best rez food there is.”
THEY’D JUST REACHED the highway when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he put the phone on speaker. “Good morning, Maria,” he said.
“I have the address. 222 Canyon Way in Bloomfield. When I accessed the address of the registered pet owner, the software also listed a complaint filed just yesterday. Two vicious dogs have allegedly been harassing children through the bars of the front gate. Animal control is scheduled to make a visit this afternoon to check it out.”
“That’s his main address,” Ranger said, surprised. “ Trujillo owns several properties and he’s been moving around. That’s why the FBI hasn’t been able to zero in on him. But it sure sounds like he’s back there now. Any chance of you asking animal control to hold off on their investigation until tomorrow?”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Not really.”
“No surprise. I’ll make the request, but no guarantees.”
“I understand. And, Maria, thanks again.”
“Remember, you owe me.”
“I will, and thanks,” he said, hanging up and looking over at Dana. “ Trujillo will undoubtedly move on after a visit from animal control, so we need to get over there as soon as possible and reconnoiter,” Ranger said. “Maybe we can find a way to put your plan in motion.”
“Food first,” Dana said as her stomach rumbled loudly.
He chuckled. “Good idea. Otherwise, your stomach will give us away for sure.”
RANGER LAY FLAT on his stomach, surveying the gated mansion from the adjacent hillside. Two Doberman pinschers had been given free run of the grounds, and they made frequent stops at the gate to sniff and posture. Ranger handed the binoculars to Dana so she could take a look, then called his brother.
Ranger gave Hunter a quick rundown. “I’m planning on taking a clandestine tour. Is there any intel we can get on the house, or maybe on Trujillo ’s habits? We’re looking for a stash of cash he’d keep nearby.”
“I can get you the plans to the house in a short time, but as far as his habits…that might take some time.”
“That could be a problem. Our man’s scheduled for a visit from animal control. Once they come by, he’ll probably pick up stakes and move on.”
“Hang tight. I’ll see what I can do,” Hunter answered.
They waited for over thirty minutes and Ranger used the time to maintain surveillance on Trujillo ’s estate. He needed to get a feel for the place and its rhythms.
When his phone rang, Ranger was ready.
“I’ve got some intel,” Hunter said. “About four months ago, Ignacio accused his housekeeper of stealing and fired her. But as it turns out, her cousin’s one of ours. According to what she told him, Ignacio has a safe in each of his homes, every one of them behind paintings above the bedroom dressers.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“But she also said that every house is full of alarms.”
“I’ll be on the lookout.”
“We’ll set up a watch on the place. That way if he bolts we’ll still be right on his tail,” Hunter said.
After Ranger hung up, Dana glanced over at him. “We’re going to need a really good plan to get into that house. I don’t want to be a hot lunch for those guard dogs.”
“Don’t worry about them. I’ve got that covered. My Shicheii taught me something that’ll take care of that problem without harming the animals.”
KNOWING THAT GETTING on Trujillo ’s property would be tricky, Dana had insisted on a diversion. Ranger had heard her out and agreed on her plan.
On schedule, Dana called Agent Harris and let him know where Trujillo was. Then, before he could inundate her with questions, she hung up.