Ranger parked toward the north end of the regional medical center in the city of Farmington. This was where Glint, a non-Navajo, had been transferred after being stabilized.
Focused on security, Ranger studied the area around them before turning off the engine. It was close to midnight and quiet at this late hour. There had been very little traffic, even on major streets. The powerful lights that illuminated the parking lot made for few shadows, and because it was long after visiting hours, most of the vehicles probably belonged to the staff.
Though he could see nothing out of the ordinary, something didn’t feel right. The skin at the back of his neck prickled, and he studied all the vehicles he could see, especially unmarked vans.
A strong breeze rose in the air, and a small whirlwind came to life just outside the truck, stirring up dust and leaves. As Dana started to open the door, he pulled her back. “That’s an ill wind and it brings bad luck. Wait until it passes.”
Dana nodded and sat back. The fact that she’d accepted what he’d said without question pleased him. She wasn’t Navajo, but she respected Navajo ways. A man could spend a lifetime looking for a woman like Dana-one who could understand what couldn’t be explained.
They left the truck moments later. His muscles tense, he stepped in front of her, and led the way quickly toward the closest entrance.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Stay on your guard. Something’s not right.”
Yards from the side door, Ranger heard running footsteps, and two men emerged from behind a row of parked cars to his left, cutting off their retreat. A third man suddenly stepped around the last car on the right, placing himself between them and the hospital doors.
Dana stopped abruptly, seeing the men closing in from all sides.
“Run for the door,” Ranger said, then rushed the man in their way, though his opponent was built like a human roadblock.
Unwilling to leave Ranger alone to fight three men, Dana turned and kicked one of the men coming up from behind. As she turned toward the other guy who was behind Ranger, she realized he was pulling out a handgun.
Ranger, busy fighting the big guy, had his back turned. Dana yelled out, warning Ranger as she dove for the pistol and knocked it out of the man’s hand. There was a loud pop as the weapon flew across the lane, sliding beneath a red car.
The man cursed, clutching his hand, and staggered back, looking for his weapon. Ranger hurled his opponent over his shoulder, slamming him into the pavement. Dana kicked the shins of the smaller man, the one she’d kicked first.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the third man, having given up on the pistol, trying to decide who to attack, her or Ranger. Then seeing the big man down, flat on his back, he suddenly bolted, along with his partner. Within seconds they were halfway across the parking lot, racing toward a shiny new pickup.
“Maybe they saw we were getting some help,” Dana said, and pointed. Agent Harris was running toward them, two security guards behind him.
As two of their assailants sped away, Ranger cursed, then quickly focused back on the third man, who was still on the pavement, moaning.
The downed man groaned in defeat as Harris and the two security guards teamed up to handcuff him, then hauled him to his feet.
“Do you recognize this guy?” Harris asked Dana, who shook her head after taking a closer look at the man’s blood-smeared face.
Harris looked at Ranger, who also shook his head. Immediately the agent read the man his rights and flashed his Bureau ID. “Do yourself a favor and don’t piss me off,” he growled after he’d finished. “What’s your name and who sent you?”
“Name’s Truman Ockerman,” he said, mumbling. “I was just here to rough up the Indian because he owes the wrong people a chunk of change,” he said, looking at Ranger.
“Wrong. Try again,” Ranger shot back.
“Who hired you?” Harris repeated.
“The two wimps who just ran off,” Truman grumbled. “I’m a pro wrestler, but I got hurt and that put me out of work for a while. Hey, I gotta eat just like everyone else.”
“I’m going to ask you this one last time. I want names. Who hired you?” Harris said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know. I met them at the Terminal Café barely an hour ago. They told me what they wanted, then paid me a hundred down in cash. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. We’d wait here until you two came to visit a sick friend, slap you around a bit, scare the woman, then toss you both into a trash bin.”
“What about the gunshot? That suggests the plan included more than a beating,” Harris snapped.
“They changed the plan at the last minute. I was supposed to clock this dude while they took the woman back to their pickup for who knows what. I’m no pervert, so I figured I’d just deck the guy, then split.”
“You’re involved in an attempted murder,” Ranger growled. “One of your buddies was about to shoot me when my partner stepped up and knocked away his pistol.” He glanced at Harris then added, “It slid beneath that red Chevy. There’s the brass from the round he got off,” Ranger added, pointing at the ejected shell casing on the pavement.
Dana looked at Ranger, her stomach in knots as she remembered. He’d made it sound so matter-of-fact but the truth was she’d been terrified she’d be seconds too late.
“Guns, shooting people. None of that was my idea. It’s the truth, I’m telling you,” Ockerman said as one of the security men led him away.
Harris bent down and aimed a penlight beneath the red car. “Looks like a thirty-two.” The agent pulled a latex glove from his jacket pocket, then picked up the shell casing and examined it closely. “You both still in one piece?”
Ranger looked at Dana, who nodded, then focused back on Harris, who was placing the spent cartridge into a small envelope.
“Anything from Glint so far?” Ranger asked.
“Nothing,” Harris said. “Let me collect the weapon, then we’ll go inside.”
Ranger stood beside Dana and gave her hand a squeeze while the agent retrieved the pistol and stowed it away.
“Your people haven’t made much headway, Agent Harris. So how about letting me take the lead once we’re in Glint’s room?” Dana asked, letting go of Ranger’s hand once they reached the hospital door.
Ranger rammed his hands in his pockets and shrugged when Harris glanced over at him. “If I were you, I’d let her have a shot. The lady’s got good instincts. She saved my butt tonight.”
“I’ve learned a lot these past few days, Agent Harris,” Dana said as they passed a nurses’ station. “You’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Go for it.” Harris nodded at the two guards standing by the closed door of Room 122, then led the way inside.
Xander Glint was a barrel-chested man with hairy arms, one of them hooked up to an IV, the other handcuffed to a bed rail. Despite the fact that he was propped up in bed, he was still defiant, and glared at them as they came through the doorway. When he saw Dana, he smiled, showing a missing tooth and a split lip just starting to heal.
“I just love this hospital-providing a woman of the evening to comfort me. Give us a half hour alone, okay, guys?” he said, leering at Dana. “And somebody close the door as you go.”
Ranger’s gaze slashed through him like razor blades. “You working to be unconscious again, loudmouth?”
Dana stepped in front of Ranger and moved closer to the bed, taking a good, long look at Glint’s face.
“I know you,” she said quietly. “He’s definitely one of the kidnappers,” she added, looking over at Harris, who nodded.
Glint shook his head. “One of who? I’ve never seen you before, lady.”
“Yes, you have-back at the cabin. You remember me, I can see it in your eyes.” She glanced at Harris again. “No doubt at all in my mind, Agent Harris. This is one of the men who kidnapped the medicine man and me, and is responsible for his murder. I’ll gladly testify to that at his trial.”
“This woman is nuts-or blind,” Glint said, sitting upright now.
Harris smiled. “Looks to me like you’re finally going down, Glint. It won’t take a jury fifteen minutes to convict you. The medicine man’s murder may even get you the chair instead of life without parole. If I were you, I’d start talking. It’s the only chance you’ve got.”
“People who spill their guts to the cops end up dead,” he spat out. “I’ll take my chances in court.”
“Flowers…” Dana commented, looking down at the daisies on the nightstand. “I wonder if the woman who sent them knows you won’t be getting out before she’s old and gray? She won’t even remember what you looked like, if you ever make parole, that is.”
“Forget the sob story, I have no idea how those flowers got here. They probably got the wrong room. Now get out, all of you,” Glint said. “I want a lawyer.”
Dana studied the flowers for a moment, then took out the small notebook from her purse. As the men’s attention became focused on her, Dana turned the pad around and showed Glint what she’d written.
Don’t talk. There’s some kind of electronic bug in your flowers, she wrote.
Glint raised off the bed and peered over as she pointed it out to him. He turned and gave Harris an obscene gesture.
“Not mine,” Harris said, taking a closer look.
Your boss doesn’t trust you. You’re a dead man, Dana wrote.
Glint looked around the room like a trapped man, then finally focused on Agent Harris. Wild-eyed, he signaled for some paper. “I’m not talking,” he said, directing his words at the flowers.
Won’t matter. You’re a liability, Dana wrote.
Ranger, who’d looked in the basket, moved to pick it up, but Harris held up his hand, warning him away.
Agent Harris nodded to Dana, and she handed Glint her notepad and pen.
Do you know Ignacio Trujillo? Harris wrote.
Just Ernesto, and he’s dead, came Glint’s reply.
Harris brought out three photos, one being of Ignacio Trujillo, but Glint shook his head at each photo.
Who were your contacts? Harris wrote.
Marc Finch and a guy named Del. Don’t know his last name, the injured prisoner wrote back.
Harris took the pad. Describe them.
Take the flowers out of here first, Glint wrote back, looking nervously at the flowers.
I’ll put them in another room, Dana wrote. Your boss won’t catch on right away.
Once Ranger had made a show of taking the bouquet out of the room, Glint began to give them detailed descriptions.
AFTERWARD, they met outside in the hall. After walking some distance away from Glint’s door, Harris looked at Dana through narrowed eyes.
“What the heck was that all about?” he asked. “I looked right into the middle of that flower arrangement, but didn’t see a thing. Where was the bug?”
“Actually, I think it was somebody’s button. I just decided to play a bluff,” she said. “You learn to do that in a classroom when you’re tracking down which student hid the handle to the pencil sharpener.”
“Inspired tactic, Ms. Seles,” Harris said. “Now stay out of my case. Law enforcement officers will take it from here. Good night.” Harris strode back to Glint’s room.
WITH HARRIS GONE, Ranger grabbed Dana’s hand, and led her back outside in a hurry. “I need to make a phone call. Let’s see if I can get some information on Marc Finch and Del,” he said, punching out a number.
Ranger reported in to his brother quickly. “Do we have any information on these guys? More specifically, did Ernesto Trujillo ever use them?” There was a long pause at the other end.
“Wind, you still there?” came Hunter’s voice two minutes later.
“Yeah.”
“The two guys weren’t connected to Ernesto, according to our former inside man. We know Ignacio must be hiring new talent. Finch is a low-rent hood, according to my best source, but he doesn’t have an arrest record beyond high school. Nothing on anyone named Del. If I had a last name…”
“Can you track down a photo of Marc Finch for me?”
“Might take awhile. We’ll put feelers out, but our manpower is limited. Only those currently known to Hastiin Dííl are in play.”
Feeling frustrated, Ranger hung up and hurried back to the truck with her. “Let’s put some distance between us and this hospital. I don’t want a second team sneaking up on us.”
“Every time we get close to Ignacio, he slithers out of our grasp. All we get is hired muscle.”
“Ignacio is smart, and deadly. But we’ll get him,” Ranger said.
“How? By going after this Finch guy?”
“We don’t have squat on anyone named Del, so that makes Marc Finch our best lead,” he answered. “I want to check all the cheap motels in this area. Let’s see if they’ve got a guest using the name Finch, or something close to that.”
“These businesses aren’t just going to hand us their guest lists-we’re not the police, and we don’t have a warrant.”
“There’s a faster way. I’ve got a laptop beneath your seat that’s got all kinds of special software and hardware for satellite access. I can hack into the servers that control most reservation and ticketing venues. It’s a read-only connection, but that’s all we need. It’ll just take me a few minutes to get set up.” He pulled off the road then and taking the laptop, moved his seat back and began to work.
“Will you be able to retrieve the information before they catch on to you?” she asked.
“Probably, but there’s a certain amount of risk involved. It isn’t exactly legal,” he added, giving her a quirky grin.
“Neither is kidnapping and murder. Go for it,” she said.
He smiled. No wonder he was crazy about her. “You’re terrific.”
“I’m just tired of playing by the rules. For the first time in my life I’m willing to get a little reckless. Think you’re a bad influence?”
“I hope so,” he said with a grin, then grew serious. “But, for the record, I’m never reckless. I’m willing to take calculated risks. There’s a difference.”
She nodded thoughtfully, then said, “The biggest difference between us is that I’m willing to do what has to be done, but you love the danger.”
“Danger is all around us. Somebody has to meet it head-on so others can walk in beauty.”
She was beginning to understand him. Like Icarus, he soared high, letting the winds carry him dangerously close to the sun because everything in him demanded he try, even when the odds were against him. It was courage in its rawest and most dazzling form. She was more sure than ever that he was a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors.