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  The Bureau assigned him a kid straight out of school named Lyle Parker. He was headed over to a café just off the res owned by a local Muslim business man, who’d bought the whole strip center from a Mexican-American family. They even built a mosque there, of all places. Sanders trusted Muslims just a little bit more than he trusted Payette. But he had no evidence they were up to evil. Didn’t mean he had to socialize or trust them, though.

  “Cortland,” Lyle said in his whiny, nasal tone, oblivious to the fact that it made Sanders want to grab the guy by his neck and wring it. “You like anybody we’ve interviewed for this?”

  He didn’t want to tip his hand just in case there was a secret mission necessary. “Not sure yet. I’ve cleared all the women so far and most of the tribal men.”

  “Which leaves me,” Lyle said pointing to his own pigeon breast of a chest, “and the group from Gallup and Phoenix.”

  “Very good,” Sanders said.

  “What’s your theory?” Lyle didn’t seem to mind that he was on Sanders’ short list.

  “I smell money.”

  For being so clueless, Lyle knew when to stop pushing for answers. That made him a perfect assistant. “Whew. Well, that rules me out, since I don’t have any.” His half-hearted attempt to crack a joke fell flat at first. Then Sanders bellowed as if it had taken him a long time to catch the subtlety of the joke. He never left an opportunity unused to demonstrate how slow he was. It gave him an advantage over everyone if they thought so of him.

  To their own peril.

  “You hungry, Lyle?” he said as he pulled up in front of the Trading Post Café Deluxe.

  “Does a chicken have lips? Does a snake chew gum?” Lyle scrunched up the side of his face, obsessed with his own cleverness.

  “That fuckin’ doesn’t even make any sense, Lyle. The answer to those questions would be no, so I guess you’re not hungry. You want to wait in the car then? It’s only one hundred and six today.”

  “Well, I’ll take some pie for lunch. The lady who bakes here is supposed to be the best in the whole state. Her name’s Emma.”

  Sanders started to relax. Maybe someday he could just have an ordinary twenty-four hours, so he could walk into a diner, sit down at the counter, and order a piece of pie without seeing body parts splayed over everything and sensing the dark thoughts of every male in the place. He thought women were the only thing that made men human.

  He used to tell his friends he thought God figured out right away that he’d fucked up when he made Adam, or the First Man like the Navajo’s believed. So he made a woman to balance him off and distract him into behaving nicely, just like leaving a little trail of pills for a junkie to find. Once he was trapped, the woman would tie him up and eat him little bites at a time. Like a frog in water that was brought to a slow boil, men would think they liked it, until it killed them and their manhood. Even good women did this to men all the time, he thought. He didn’t want to change, had no intention of changing anything for anybody except himself.

  So, Sanders was going to stay free forever. He’d live alone and die alone. He’d make sure not one piece of his DNA was left behind afterwards. He wanted to be remembered for the impact he had on the cycle of life and death, how he played the game, not the life-long friendships and satisfying work everyone else was seeking. If it were Halloween, he’d dress up as the Grim Reaper.

  Every day.

  They scooted into the polished, red plastic tuck and roll bench seats with a black Formica table between them. A desktop jukebox was intact and brightly lit, but several others were either missing, or hanging at an odd angle by a few thin wires.

  He wondered if he should tell Lyle about the missing agent, and decided he’d hold that back for a little while. He’d have to tell him eventually, and probably pretty soon. But not this morning.

  “Morning, fellas,” the chubby older woman with the round face said to them. She laid down sticky plastic menus, leaving behind two small glasses of ice water, and moved behind the counter, picking up an order and delivering it to the booth next to them. Her white thick-soled shoes squeaked as she whisked by.

  Lyle was flipping the menu back and forth. “Hm. They don’t list the pies here. And no specials, either.”

  “I doubt they get enough business to have specials, Lyle. And I’m guessing whatever you want in pie is here. Look at that case.” He’d pointed to a lit revolving glass display filled chock-full of gigantic pieces of pie.

  Sanders thought perhaps the waitress owned the café, but not the building. He read her nametag, “Emma, sweetheart, we’re going to have pie, and you came highly recommended.”

  The short Navajo woman gushed. “That’s my specialty.”

  “You got any sour cherry pie. I mean really sour?” Sanders asked.

  “No, sir, I do not, but I got some early apricot, and that’s pretty damned tart, if I do say so. Nearly took my fingertips off trying to cut up those nearly green slices.”

  “Perfect,” he heard himself say. “Lyle? You want one too?”

  “Noooo way. I’m partial to lemon meringue. You got that, Emma?”

  “Absolutely. Coffee?” she asked.

  They both nodded and Emma went about her mission.

  Sanders’ cell phone rang with a number from Washington, D.C. “Hallo.”

  “Is this Special Agent Cortland Sanders?” asked the efficient voice at the other end of the line.

  “You know it is.”

  “I’m calling on behalf of a friend of the Bureau here, a guy who does dangerous things for us overseas.”

  Sanders tried to sound less interested than he really was. “I’m listening,” he said as he got up and walked outside to make the conversation private. Since he was never asked to do special favors for anyone, this call intrigued him.

  “Seems our friend is from the reservation and he’s concerned about the scope and nature of the investigation. He’s got a woman and child alone there he’s worried about.”

  “That’s how I’d feel, too,” Sanders grunted. So one of the ladies had hooked herself a Special Forces man. Good for her.

  “Anything I can relay?”

  “I’m not seeing this as an especially long or complicated case. I’ve laid down the flypaper. Just need the fly to step in it. You can tell your friend he doesn’t have to worry about suspecting his relatives just yet.”

  “I don’t think he cares about that, Cortland. He just wants the asshole caught.”

  “Well, if you knew anything about me, you’d hate to be the bad guy. I have a hunch, but I jinx it by telling anyone. So I’m going to sign off and you tell him I got his six.”

  “Six?”

  “His back. I got his back, you tell him that. Nothing is easy about these cases, but I think it’s a simple motive. Supply and demand sort of thing.”

  “Okay. So now what if his relative is part of the supply?”

  “As in she’s one of the missing girls?”

  “The last one, yes.”

  Sanders fisted his right hand, noticing a sharp pain radiating up his arm from an old biking accident. “I don’t see murder is the motive, or even snuff stuff, but I couldn’t rule it out. She a feisty one, a fighter?”

  “I have no clue. I’m guessing no. She’s only fifteen.”

  “You call me back in a day or so when I’ve done a little more digging around. I know better than to assume I can reach you.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I have a pretty good idea for what purpose she was taken. What I don’t know yet is why she was chosen. I’ll bet my ass it wasn’t random. So I think that’s a good thing, right?”

  “Maybe.” The caller sighed. “You need any local help, like if some miracle should happen and he was allowed to come home, could you use him? Something the Bureau could use to escalate a request up the chain of command?”

  “This his sister or wife or child?”

  “His sort of sister-in-law. Younger sister of his lady. And they have a ne
wborn.”

  Fuck sake. Sanders never really wanted anyone else’s help and only took Lyle because he was required to. Could he work with a novice? A novice who was in all probability a lethal killing machine and would be good with equipment?

  Suddenly, he changed his mind. “Well, hell. Tell him to come on down. The price is right.”

  Chapter 21

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  Luci was getting more and more nervous as the hours ticked by and no one gave her any indication they were any closer to finding Sarah. Danny had told her the first twenty-four hours were the most critical, and that time limit had passed several hours ago. The FBI man she’d interviewed with was stoical, but she understood he was uncomfortable with the investigation. She’d spent her time trying to console her mother, who burst into tears nearly every hour.

  She also wondered if James, the man she trusted who’d been hanging out with Yellowhorse for a time, had something to do with Sarah’s disappearance. He hadn’t been seen or heard from again, but she was careful not to bring up his name for fear of perhaps confusing everyone involved with the case. Her mother didn’t want to talk about it with anyone, since the relationship with Yellowhorse was not something she was very proud of. In her mother’s fragile state, Luci had to be careful since she didn’t know on which side of the wall her mother would land if she lost control. She didn’t want to tip the scale and push her mother back into drinking. That could spell disaster.

  The local TV stations from Phoenix and Albuquerque had picked up the story. News crews were not given permission to come on the reservation, since the investigation was far from complete, but one persistent white van, with the satellite dish outfitted on its roof, took a roundabout way and presented themselves at her mother’s front door. Since Sarah was a minor, Luci wasn’t sure how they found out who her family was, and she realized someone inside the investigation was leaking things to the outside.

  “Can you tell us, did whether Sarah had any online boyfriends like the other missing girls?” the red-headed female news reporter asked, shoving the black, padded microphone in her face without saying hello first. Their lack of respect for how difficult it was for Luci and her mother to function with Sarah missing disgusted her.

  “You’re not supposed to be here. I’ve been asked not to talk to anyone outside of the tribal police or FBI.”

  This appeared to encourage the reporter, who asked a follow-up question, “So it is true, then. The FBI has been called in?”

  Luci decided not to be cordial any longer. She slammed the door in the reporter’s face and dialed the district office. Within five minutes, the news crew was escorted off the res by two uniforms.

  She called Danny several times and left messages. On day two, he returned her call.

  “How you holding up, Luce?”

  “Oh, God, Danny. It’s so good to hear your voice. I guess I should be grateful Mother is doing so poorly. It’s actually distracted me from thinking about whatever Sarah is going through right now. I just feel so helpless—”

  She was unable to continue. Danny’s soothing voice quieted her. “Well, I’ll be there tomorrow. We got permission for me to detach from the Team on emergency leave. Should get in tomorrow evening. Might be late.”

  “Oh Danny!” Her eyes began filling up with hot tears. Outside of the news that Sarah was home safe, this piece of information was a close second. Danny coming to help share the burden was something she hadn’t dared to dream possible. She felt her shoulders relax some. The back of her neck was stiff as she turned her head to the right, and it hurt when she bent over while Griffin was nursing.

  “How’s Griffin?” he asked.

  “Sleeping right now. Good as gold. Always is. I can’t tell you how relieved this has made me, hearing you’ll be coming here to help.”

  “Not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’ll be there, for sure. When I get there tomorrow, I want you to tell me everything you can think of. Remember what I asked you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think this FBI guy, Sanders, is any good?”

  She was surprised he knew the name. “He’s an odd one, so maybe that’s a good thing. But, Danny, I have no experience with this.”

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Hang on, sweetheart. I’ll be there in less than twenty hours.”

  After they hung up, Luci went looking for her mother, and found her standing in the middle of her backyard in her nightie and robe. It was nearly noon, and she hadn’t dressed or showered yet. It was painful seeing her mother struggle with the reality of what had happened. As Luci got closer, she could smell alcohol on her breath.

  Zelda was staring at a cactus plant as if she could see the face of her daughter embedded there. The saguaro had grown up as a volunteer, starting some five years ago, probably planted by a bird dropping, and was now well over five feet tall, having branched out with a cluster of stubby arms. Two holes, one on either side of the main trunk below the branches, were home to a pair of small bird families.

  Zelda flinched when Luci put her arm around her shoulder. “Mom, Danny’s coming here to help out.” She didn’t want to confront her mother’s recent return to drinking.

  “Remember the Christmas lights Sarah put on this cactus last year? I just noticed we never took them off, and now the plant has grown around it, with the wires now inside it. You notice this before, Luci?”

  She hadn’t noticed this before, and she told her mother so.

  “Hey, come on. Let’s go inside, Mom.”

  Zelda walked as if one leg was longer than the other, in an awkward swinging of her hips, her form suddenly looking frail and unstable. Luci kept her arm around her mother’s shoulders and led her inside. Zelda appeared docile, vacant.

  “Did you hear me? Danny’s coming.”

  “I heard you,” was all her mother said.

  The next day seemed to drag on forever until Luci got word that Danny had landed in Phoenix, rented a car, and was heading north to the house. She encouraged Zelda to get dressed, but she remained glued to the couch, watching TV and mumbling to herself. Luci said no more than a handful of words to her, and none of her comments elicited a response.

  The screen door creaked just before Luci heard the tap tap tap on their front door. With three large strides across the living room, Luci flung the door open wide and collapsed in Danny’s arms. She’d spent so much time trying to show composure and resolve to her mother, when Danny’s strong arms gripped her and held her close to him, she released her reserve and began to cry. They stood on the threshold as he rocked her until her tears stopped flowing.

  “I’ve been trying to be so strong. I guess that’s the lie I’ve been telling myself,” she whispered, trying to keep the words from her mother’s ears.

  “Shhh. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. I got you, Luci,” he said to the top of her head as he kissed her there. One of his palms rubbed up and down her spine, squeezing the top of her shoulders, pressing fingers and massaging soft tissues into submission. She didn’t want to, but he pulled her away to arm’s length and examined her face. “You getting any sleep?”

  “Are you kidding?” She squinted, and could feel hot tears spilling down her cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumbs and then followed up with a soft kiss under each eye. She needed to feel his arms around her and she buried herself in his chest. She was grateful for the loving tenderness he gave her.

  Griffin began to cry.

  “Love that sound,” he whispered.

  An hour later, FBI agent Courtland Sanders, telephoned the Tohe household and asked for a meeting with the ‘Special Forces Guy.’ Luci noticed Danny wasn’t surprised by the request. The meeting was arranged for the next morning.

  Luci skirted around several of their earlier conversations concerning long-term commitments, without bringing up marriage in particularly. Danny seemed to take her lead and not press her on the promises he’d asked of her before he left on deployment. She was relieved she wasn’t being press
ured to make such a decision now, since they seemed inappropriate with all that was going on. Luci knew she loved Danny and wanted to be with him for the rest of her life, but she also didn’t want him rushing into something he’d regret later.

  Nothing about their relationship was planned out, but then, she doubted that was the way of the heart anyway. She suspected the reason for her need for a sliver of distance between the two of them was because she was numb with fear for Sarah. It seemed hard to look squarely into a future that might contain some very bad news, though she tried to be positive, at least for her mother’s sake.

  Zelda was also working her way out of a deep freeze. Luci could see the shakes coming back. Danny was equally patient with her, helping her by holding Griffin, carefully standing by to monitor her mother’s reactions. The more time she spent with the baby, the more she seemed to come alive. Of course, what also came with this were her tears. Of the two, Luci knew the tears and sadness, although difficult, were healthier than the deep freeze. She knew depression was an issue with her people traditionally, leading some to thoughts of taking their own lives. In short, they were in a waiting game until they had more information to process.

  Zelda was encouraged to turn in early, so they could prepare for the next day. Luci was exhausted as well, but anticipation was pumping adrenaline into her veins. Without saying a word, Danny took Luci’s hand and led her to the bedroom, where Griffin was asleep in the co-sleeper beside the bed.

  “Been thinking about this every day and night since I’ve been gone, sweetheart.” Holding her face between his palms, he placed his warm lips against hers. She felt the fire she’d been missing ignite, sending warm vibrations all over her body as she melted into his hardness. She’d been starving for his taste, his touch. She was shy as his fingers found her skin beneath her cotton top, as they slowly traveled up her torso, under and into the cups of her bra, massaging her breasts. Her body responded to everything about him. His kiss below her ear sent a chill down her spine. He whispered her name and said, “Missed you, Luci,” over and over again.