thought of being in the truck with him again sent an odd shiver down her spine. It was not an altogether unpleasant sensation.
She shook the thought away and grabbed the phone. Her brother was counting on her. She could not, would not, let her pride get in the way.
He answered on the second ring, his voice low and husky. “Booker.”
“It’s Anita. Look, I’m really sorry to bother you but—”
“It’s fine.”
She took a deep breath. “I need to go to the cliffs, where Drew was headed.”
There was a long silence. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”
Twenty minutes later, Booker suppressed a sigh as he jumped out of the truck and wrenched open the passenger side for Anita. Why was he dropping everything to run to her side? Because it was the right thing to do, to help a person in need, he told himself, like he’d done when Mrs. Whitley from church needed her cat dislodged from where it had gotten wedged behind the Sheetrock. So what if it was inconvenient and time-consuming? It was still the right thing to do. He risked a glance at her delicate profile. He’d never had these crazy feelings in his stomach while helping Mrs. Whitley, that was for sure.
Redirecting his thoughts to the foolhardy mission he’d undertaken, he eased the truck onto the main road and headed for the highway. Raindrops pattered the windshield. “Storm coming today. Not a great idea.”
“The rain has tapered off from this morning. I’m sure it will be all right. I want to get a sense of the place he was headed, that’s all.”
He shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
She twiddled with her jacket zipper. “How is your father?”
“Not great. He’s in one of those retirement villages. Wanted him to stay on the ranch, but he insisted he’d be a bother.”
“I’m sorry.”
He picked up on a warmth in her voice, remembering how her visits in the spring had cheered his father tremendously. He knew Pops would approve of his helping Anita, in spite of their history. His father would never let a woman down. He’d been there through his wife’s illness, unflinchingly devoted, even when her mind was gone and she didn’t know who any of them were. Pops was a true gentleman, Booker knew, the kind of man he could only hope to be someday. The resolve crystallized inside him. He would help her, he would find Anita’s brother because it was the godly thing to do, and then he would walk away. He tuned back into the present.
“I’ll say a prayer for him,” Anita said haltingly.
Booker nodded. “Preciate that.”
They lapsed into silence as the miles rolled by, flatland dotted with mesquite and jimsonweed. The sky had lightened to a silver hue, silhouetting the distant mountains in sharp relief. Since the rain eased off, he rolled the window down a fraction to breathe in the scent of newly washed earth.
Rounding a sharp turn, he slowed the truck.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Road dips into a canyon up ahead. With a good rain there’s the potential for flash flooding.”
“It’s not even raining that hard right now.”
He glanced at the sky. “It will.”
“Booker, we’ve got to keep going. My brother is out there somewhere.”
He ignored the desperation in her voice. “Impatience gets you dead in this place.”
“You’ve got to listen to me. I…” Her words dropped off as the rain began to sheet and then to pound with a fury. It slammed into the truck so hard it bounced off again like tiny glittering bullets. Anita cried out at a crash of thunder.
Booker shot her a brief glance. “Don’t worry. It’ll stop in a minute or two.”
The roar faded to a hum and then a trickle, the storm easing up as fast as it started.
Booker was ready to start the truck when he frowned into the rearview mirror.
An SUV pulled in behind them with Border Patrol emblazoned on the side. A stocky, dark-haired man got out and edged to the driver’s side of Booker’s truck.
“Mr. Scott, it’s Agent Rogelio. You’ve got Anita Teel with you?”
Booker called out the open window. “Yes, sir.”
The agent leaned his head in. “Paul Gershwin told me you might be coming up here looking for your brother.”
Booker and Anita got out and followed Rogelio away from the road, to the rust-colored shoulder.
“I got your message,” Rogelio continued. “I was going to call you this afternoon.”
“Any word on Drew?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. I met your brother a few times, poking around with his camera.”
Anita’s voice cracked. “Really? When did you see him last?”
“Couple weeks ago. Headed out the same way you are.” Rogelio folded his arms across his wide chest. “I’ve got to be honest with you. I told your brother that he was an idiot.”
Booker saw Anita jerk backward a fraction at his angry tone. “That’s no way to talk to the man’s sister.”
“No disrespect intended, but my job’s intense. I go around with a target painted on my back. That’s my choice. But I don’t appreciate having to spend time and energy rescuing thrill seekers who get themselves in too deep, especially when they’ve been warned repeatedly.”
Booker cocked his head. “Drew’s doing a job, not sightseeing, and, anyway, what’s done is done. The guy’s missing, and his sister is worried. Isn’t her fault.”
Rogelio’s tone softened. “I’m just telling you that Border Patrol will assist in any way we can, when we’re not busting illegals and ducking gunfire from drug cartels. I’m going to give you the same advice I gave him. Go home.” He jerked a thumb at the road ahead. “Leave the searching up to law enforcement so we don’t have to bail you out of trouble, too.”
Rogelio got back into his SUV, pulled a sharp U-turn and peeled away.
Booker helped Anita back into the truck, feeling a slight tremble in her hand. “Not the nicest cop I ever met.”
She blinked. “Why is it everyone seems to think Drew deserves to be in trouble?”
He heard the tremor in her voice. “Not everyone. Like I said before, Drew is a good guy. I’ll help you if you want to go look for him. Rogelio’s right about one thing, though. It’s not safe.”
She was silent for a moment, examining her hands twisted together in her lap, knuckles white from the pressure. “Why would you go with me?”
He exhaled, recognizing he had just crossed a line that he couldn’t turn back from until the job was done. “Because it’s the right thing to do and if it was my brother, I’d sure drive through a war zone to find him.”
She gave him a watery smile and they continued down the road.
Booker cleared his throat. “We’ll only be able to take a quick look before sundown. We can come back tomorrow. Early.”
Her face looked vulnerable, like a little girl’s. “Thank you. I feel as though…as though I don’t have the right to ask you for anything.”
“I offered.”
She gave him a puzzled look as the satellite phone in her pocket rang, startling them both.
“It’s Sergeant Williams,” she whispered, when she checked the screen.
Anita