She looked at the phone he’d pulled out of his pocket.
“Alex Whitmyer. He came from a prominent family. He was handsome and a bit narcissistic, which I figured out a little too late. I’m still embarrassed about it. I’m supposed to help people like him, but I was too caught up in the relationship to see he was sick. And he was very good at hiding his real personality.”
Paco wondered about that. Wasn’t she supposed to be able to read people? Maybe not with her heart, but with her head. Had she cared about this guy? “I’ll put in a call to Kissie. She can check him out in addition to the father of that kid you mentioned, too.”
“Mr. Henner,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d put my money on Alex. He was just strange enough to go all ballistic and decide to teach me a lesson.”
“But you didn’t know our intruder. Why would he send other people to do the deed if he’s the one stalking you?”
“He certainly could hire someone to scare me, but then so could Mr. Henner. Maybe it wasn’t Alex after all.”
He made the call to Kissie, giving her Alex Whitmyer’s name. After explaining what had happened, he said, “Looks like I’m on a case, Kissie-girl.”
“Paco, you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Not you, too,” he replied, closing his eyes. “I told Warwick I was doing okay.”
“Well, he’s so happy he just wants everyone else to feel the same,” Kissie said through a chuckle. “Me, I think you find your strength when you need it the most.”
“Well, then, we’re about to test that theory,” Paco replied. “Look, about Alex Whitmyer.” He looked at the card. “He dated Laura Walton. Counselor. Works for CHAIM-approved clinic in Phoenix. Except right now, she’s with me. I’m sure you’ve been updated on the shooting here this morning since I had to get clearance from both the sheriff and CHAIM to move the client.”
“Heard all about it. We’ve got your back, Paco. And I’ve heard of Laura’s work at the Phoenix Rising Counseling Center. But how in the world did she wind up with you?”
“She thinks I need counseling for some strange reason.”
“I know Laura,” Kissie said. “We’ve met at some of the company get-togethers. Nice girl. And if anyone can help you, it’d be Laura. Do you need help?”
Paco grunted. “Why is everyone asking me that?”
“We care about you. What about the get-together at Eagle Rock. You gonna be there?”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” Paco replied. “Since when did CHAIM start having company functions anyway?”
“You’ve been out of the country too long, my child. We like to get together for some down time now and then. Good for the soul. And just FYI, this is a big to-do coming up next week at Eagle Rock. You know, to remember the fallen on Veteran’s Day and to celebrate Thanksgiving. You should come. It’s a mandatory callout.”
“I’m kinda busy here, Kissie. We’ll have to see about that.”
“Okay then, but you might want to read the memo. I’ll get right on this. You take care of my girl Laura, you hear.”
“I hear.”
He signed off then turned to Laura. “Kissie seems to think you’re a nice girl.”
“I am a nice girl,” she replied without skipping a beat. “And I’m still wondering how I managed to kill a man.”
He hated the tiny bit of little girl in her voice. She was way too nice to be sitting here in this old trailer, in the middle of the desert, with him of all people. She was the good girl who went to church and baked cookies for nursing home residents and planted petunias by the back door. The good girl who actually tried to help warped, scarred, tired souls.
He was the bad boy who shunned crowds, liked his solitude and really never let anyone get too close. He was the loner, the soldier, the warrior who’d fought the good fight and yet, had somehow managed to lose both his soul and his sanity in doing so. “How did you wind up here?” he asked her.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she reminded him.
He lifted her up, grabbed the gun she’d laid on the step and pulled her toward the truck. “Well, honey, that’s gonna have to wait. ’Cause whoever this is, they seem to be determined to either scare you or kill you. I just don’t get why they keep leaving your cards everywhere like a trail. They obviously want us to find these cards.”
She grabbed the tattered card out of his hand then gasped. “I didn’t notice this before but this isn’t my up dated business card, Luke. This looks like my old set of cards. I had them changed about two weeks ago. I added my website on the new ones.”
“Then where did these come from?”
“I threw them in the recycling bin at my apartment building.”
He steadied her hand to stare at the card. “So someone went through that bin and found them. How many did you have left?”
“About twenty-five or so. A little box—almost empty.”
“Just enough to spread the word.”
“And what is the word?”
“That’s the big question,” he replied. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“Do we have to report this to the police?”
“Not yet,” he said as he guided her to the truck. “We gave our report this morning about the break-in and the shooting. We might have to go in for more questioning once they identify the man who—”
“The man I killed,” she replied, her eyes going all misty. She turned away to stare out into the desert.
Paco didn’t press her. Sooner or later, she was going to fall apart and they both knew it. He dreaded it. He’d never been good around hysterical women. But this one was deserving of a little meltdown. He’d see her through it, because he wasn’t allowed to have any more meltdowns. He had a mission. And he was alone in this until he could figure out what was going on. He couldn’t abandon this innocent woman even if he did resent her being here.
“Let’s go,” he said, tugging her toward the truck.
She wiped her eyes and got in, the big truck making her look even more lost and tiny. Which only made Paco want to protect her even more.
He slipped behind the wheel, shaking his head as he brought the truck to life with a roar. This day had gone from bad to worse. And he had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. His grandfather was in the hospital, probably still in a coma. His brother would want answers. Paco wanted those same answers.
After calling his brother one more time to check on his grandfather, Paco glanced over at the woman huddled in the seat across from him and wondered if he could keep her safe and alive until he figured things out. He had to. He wouldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t be the last man standing again.
Not this time. Not with Laura Walton. She deserved better than that. Much better.
FIVE
They drove the twenty miles to her hotel near the foot of the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. By now it was midday and a lot warmer in spite of the late fall temperatures. Laura’s shirt was sticking to her back, chilling her as she cooled down.
Over the whirl of the faint air-conditioning in the old truck, Paco said, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll check you out of the hotel and find a safe place to stay for tonight. That way, if you were tracked to the hotel, they’ll know you’re gone. Or if they’ve been there, we might find some kind of lead.”
“Do you think someone already