his property. He’d showed it to Dinétsoh, his friend and associate, and together they’d rediscovered the place.
After that, Dinétsoh, appointed the cave’s new guardian, had kept the key with him, and to honor the past, had stocked the refuge with provisions. At the time of the accident, Dinétsoh and Powell Atkins had been on their way to conclude the sale that would have given the tribe ownership of that parcel of land.
“How will you deal with your father’s papers?” Jonas asked, glancing into what had been Powell Atkins’s office.
“I don’t have time to do much sorting, so I’m placing everything in storage. If there’s anything in there that pertains to the tribe, you’re welcome to it. Dad also had some papers in his safe-deposit box in town. I haven’t looked through those yet, except to get a few documents I needed right away, like his will, tax forms and the mortgage papers.”
“You should go through everything he placed in the bank as soon as possible. You might find some answers there,” Jonas advised, entering the office and glancing around. It was possible that Emily’s father had hidden something others wanted badly enough to kill for.
Emily stood by a window, gazing at the row of stacked lumber and construction materials opposite the house. “I think those men last night were trying to burn me out, beginning with my building materials.”
“Losing all that lumber and sheeting would have cost you thousands of dollars.”
“It would have been a disaster,” she agreed in a whisper. “I honestly don’t know if I could have recovered from a loss like that. My insurance rates would have doubled or tripled, and replacing the materials would have been extremely costly. Everything’s gone up so much lately.”
“You should consider going away for a while and staying someplace safe—at least until we can figure out what you’re up against.” As he glanced at Emily, Jonas saw her back straighten and her chin jut out in defiance. “It was just a suggestion.”
“No one’s going to chase me away,” she declared, facing him squarely. Then she exhaled softly and in a whisper added, “Life’s not taking anything else away from me—not without a fight.”
The last part obviously hadn’t been meant for his ears, but the haunting sense of isolation that had resonated in her words touched him deeply. His thoughts drifted back to an afternoon at an Afghan border village and the few hours that had changed him forever. One moment’s distraction, a suicide bomber, then bodies everywhere.
He’d sworn back then never to lower his guard again. Life was about survival, and to do that, you had to fight to stay in control—of yourself and your situation. That required constant vigilance and a fighting spirit that refused surrender—a spirit like Emily’s.
“Just hang tough, Em. I’ll help you finish what you’ve set out to do.” His words carried the power of authority and utter conviction.
“Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep,” she retorted.
“I get things done. You can count on that.” As she glanced up at him he saw the flicker in her eyes, and recognized the return of hope. “I need to go meet someone, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time. I’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight. What can happen?”
He didn’t answer. Jonas gave her one last look as she sat beneath the open window, placing papers into folders, then packing them into boxes.
Something else about Emily had changed. There was a quiet dignity about her that was new, and it intrigued him. He’d seen much the same look on the faces of fellow Rangers going into battle. He wasn’t sure how that fit yet, but it was that same quiet courage he saw in Emily now.
JONAS DROVE TO A HILLOCK halfway to the highway, where cell phone reception would be stronger, and privacy insured. He had no doubt that last night’s incident would already be known to Diné Nééz. The man had contacts everywhere in the Four Corners and there was little he missed.
He climbed out of his pickup and walked into the bosque, as the wooded area was called, stopping beside a thicket of salt cedars. Before he’d even finished dialing, Jonas felt it—a wave of movement in the air.
He bent at the knees, automatically making himself a smaller target as he turned. Just then he saw Diné Nééz appear from behind an old cottonweed tree scarred by age and the elements.
The middle-aged Navajo nodded to Jonas, and gestured for him to put away the phone. There was no need for it now. “We’ve had someone watching since the report to the police came in last night. The tracks left by the two men ended near the highway, so there’s not much I can offer you on that, but if you run into more trouble than you can handle, call. Backup will be twenty minutes away or less.”
“My priority remains the woman?”
“Yes. We’re handling the search for Dinétsoh. But if you come across something that reveals his whereabouts, pursue the lead.”
“Those men weren’t there just to set fires. I think they were coming for her. She either knows something that she’s not aware of, or is an obstruction to whatever plan they have.”
“It’s also possible that others are searching for Dinétsoh, and last night’s events were just a diversion,” Diné Nééz said.
“Has word gotten out about the bearer bonds?” Jonas asked quickly.
“No. We’ve managed to keep a lid on that, at least for now. But there’s no telling how long that’ll last. One slip is all it takes.” He gathered his thoughts before continuing. “The woman… In your opinion, will she be an asset or a liability to our search?”
Jonas considered his answer carefully. “She’s offered to help, and give me access to her land. But she has secrets, too. I can feel it in my gut.”
“Don’t we all?” the man countered with a shrug. “Is it possible that whatever she’s hiding has something to do with her father’s death?”
“I can’t be certain of anything at this point.” Except for one thing, Jonas added silently. His attraction to her hadn’t diminished. If anything, it had grown even stronger. And that would make him a liability to the mission unless he kept it in check. “I’ll report as soon as I have something.”
“We need to put the case together quickly, but our involvement has to be kept under wraps. The Brotherhood has remained a secret organization since the time of Kit Carson—unseen but felt—and that’s how it must remain. Live up to your code name, Chaha’oh,” he said. It was the Navajo word for shadow. “Use your skills and get it done.”
JONAS RETURNED TO THE house and parked next to it. As he stepped out of the cab, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right. Remaining beside the truck, he waited and listened, trying to pinpoint what was bothering him. This same instinct had kept him alive more times than he cared to count, and taught him to pay attention to subtleties.
He watched the play of light and shadows on the ground, and somewhere in the distance heard the sound of soft humming. As he walked around the house, he saw Emily standing outside the back door, her eyes closed, her face tilted up toward the sky.
For a moment he just gazed at her, absorbing the way her brown hair cascaded around her shoulders as she enjoyed the warmth. The last time he’d seen her look that serene and happy they’d just made love. Safely nestled against him inside his sleeping bag, she’d looked up at him and smiled. That moment in time had been permanently carved into his heart.
Tearing his gaze away, he muttered an oath. Diversions and distractions were an implacable enemy, and danger was close. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he felt it as clearly as the cool breeze that penetrated his open leather jacket.
Darting his eyes around, he joined her quickly. “Let’s go inside,” he said, forcing his voice to remain casual. “Maybe I can help you finish emptying