On the way back up to the highway, Ranger called the sheriff’s department and gave them a quick rundown of the accident. By the time they reached the road, a Montezuma County sheriff’s department vehicle was on the scene.
Ranger recognized the deputy as one of the warriors in the Brotherhood of Warriors, though he didn’t know his name. Once he approached, Ranger could read his name tag. “Officer Billie, what can I do for you?”
“Agent Harris of the FBI asked us to send you back to the tribal police station in Shiprock. You’re needed there. Follow me.”
“No escort’s needed. I know the way,” Ranger answered.
“Not my call. Agent Harris wants you there, pronto, and I’m going to clear the way for you to the state line. From there, a tribal officer will take over.”
As the officer walked back to his vehicle, Dana glanced at Ranger. “That didn’t sound good.”
“Maybe Harris has news for us,” he answered, not really counting on it. He knew Harris. The Bureau man had probably already learned about Finch and the accident, and needed someone to take the heat.
The drive into New Mexico, then back to Shiprock, took less time than the drive up, thanks to the escort and the fact that it was closer to dawn than midnight.
They stepped inside Agent Harris’s temporary field office two minutes after arriving at the Shiprock station.
Harris glowered at Ranger. “You didn’t give us much lead time, Blueeyes. You trying to jerk me around?”
“Situations change quickly sometimes,” Ranger replied in a detached voice. He didn’t want to volunteer any information, particularly because of the way he’d learned about Finch’s location.
“I’ve got an update for you,” Harris continued. “I’ve been on the phone for the past half hour, and we managed to squelch the story. No reports of Finch’s death will appear in the papers or on TV for now. The deputy he shot has been cleared by the paramedics and is now assisting at the scene. The sheriff is cooperating fully on this, even making up a cover story about the incident at the lodge. I don’t want Trujillo to know one of his players is down for the count. We may be able to play this to our advantage.”
“Even if the name isn’t reported, the accident will raise questions,” Dana pointed out.
“Nothing will appear in the papers except for a story about somebody stealing and torching a car.”
“The FBI can do that?” she asked, surprised.
He looked visibly annoyed. “We’re working in conjunction with another local agency that also has an interest in making sure the facts remain hidden for a few days. It’s all worked out. Anything else you need explained?”
She glared at him. “No need for sarcasm, Agent Harris.”
“You don’t want to see me with an attitude, Ms. Seles,” he growled. “But here’s a news flash for both of you,” he said steely-eyed. “This is my case. If I even dream that either of you is withholding evidence, you’ll find yourselves in jail before your next heartbeat. Got it?”
As they walked out, Dana glanced at Ranger, who looked a million miles away. “Squelching that story took more pull than a simple request from a local FBI agent, don’t you think?”
“Our medicine man’s death sent shock waves across the Navajo Nation. Important people have important friends,” he said. Before he could say anything more his cell phone rang. It was Maria Charley.
“Hey, Maria, I almost gave up on you,” he said. “You up already, huh?” He looked at his watch and saw it was 5:00 a.m. Ranger put her on the speaker, then held the phone between them so Dana could hear.
“I’ve got animals to feed and water, remember?” she said. “The good news is that I’ve got the information you asked me to get you. The brown uniform, remember?”
“What do you have?” Ranger answered.
“Trash collectors wear light brown, and our animal control officers wear a darker brown.”
“I need another favor,” Ranger said.
“I should have known,” Maria said with a belabored sigh. “What is it?”
“Find out if Ignacio Trujillo has dogs and, if so, what address is listed on the animal license.”
“That’ll take awhile. They don’t answer their phones before nine, and I’ll have to beg Claire, and send over fry bread or something. Claire responds well to food-type bribes,” Maria said. “I’ll cover the fry bread, but you’ll owe me dinner now.”
“Deal.”
It was still dark outside, and Dana was struggling to stay awake. Ranger saw her nodding off, then shift and sit up, trying to remain alert. “Feel free to lie back and catch some sleep,” he said.
“You’ve got to be dead tired, too. We both need to rest. Is there a safe place near here we can use to crash for a few hours?”
He thought about it for a moment. The mention of dogs had reminded him of his Shicheii, grandfather, who’d loved his companions. “The safest place I can think of is my grandfather’s old hogan. He died many years ago overseas. Nobody lives there now, but it’s a solid shelter and there’s no one around for miles.”
“Let’s go and, on the way, tell me why you asked Maria that question about the dogs.”
“Ignacio’s late brother had guard dogs around his place, and my guess is that Ignacio inherited them,” he answered. “Licenses are required, and Trujillo isn’t going to risk getting in trouble over such a small issue, so he probably did the paperwork. With luck, that’ll give us another address to check out.”
“If we do manage to track down where Trujillo ’s hiding out, I’ve got a plan that may help us get some evidence against him.” Seeing his interested look, she continued. “ Trujillo ’s paying his men in cash and that requires him to have large amounts handy. Right now, since he’s trying to stay under the radar, he’ll be depending on however much cash he has on hand instead of going to the bank. So what we need to do is separate Ignacio from his money. Steal it, or make it impossible somehow for him to get access to that cash.”
“That’ll be tricky, but I’ll sleep on it,” he said.
After driving south through Shiprock, he turned down a dirt track, then circled back east, skirting a big arroyo. Finally he parked the truck in front of the only structure visible for miles, an unusual-looking hogan at the base of a hillside.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around and trying to get a fix on their new location. Dawn was coming soon, giving Dana just enough light to orient herself.
“It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it?” But we’re not. There’s a trading post a few miles southwest of here, and we’re just a mile west of the highway. We made a big circle, nearly.”
Ranger took the wool blanket from behind the seat of the pickup, then led the way inside. “My grandfather performed many healing ceremonies here at one time.”
“He was a medicine man? A Singer?”
He nodded, looking around, a faraway look on his face. “He was one of our best. I used to sit right there,” he said, pointing with his lips, “while he told me the old stories about our gods and how our ceremonies came to be.” He paused for a long moment. “When it’s quiet, I can almost hear his voice.”
“I’ve never seen a hogan like this, made of poles tied together instead of logs.”
He ran his hand over the sturdy wooden posts. “This type of hogan is called the Forked Together House. It’s the result of lessons given to us by Talking God, the greatest of all Navajo gods.”
Dana looked around. The floor of the hogan had been dug out a foot or more, leaving a bench near the wall that could also serve for storage. Everything had a simple beauty that spoke of decades long past. The blankets on the ground were frayed, but she could see the grandeur they’d once held.
“You or your brother must come out here every once in a while to maintain the place. There are no weeds, leaves, or any sign of four-footed ‘visitors’.”
“We take turns. I checked the place out last month.”
He spread their blanket on the ground, lay down, then stretched out his arms to receive her. “You can rest against me. My shoulder will be your pillow.”
“There was a time when I couldn’t go to sleep unless I was safe at home,” she murmured, settling against him, then drifting off.
“You’ve found a new one, sawe,” he said, using the Navajo word for sweetheart, “in my arms.”
DANA SENSED Ranger’s absence even before she’d opened her eyes. Sunlight was filtering past the worn blanket that served as a door as she sat up. Realizing she was alone in the cold hogan, fear gripped her.
Then she heard Ranger’s rich baritone voice nearby, rising in a haunting chant that spoke of history and the wisdom of the ages. Moving quietly as to not disturb him, she went outside and saw him open his jish, take a pinch of pollen out, touch it to the tip of his tongue, then throw it upward toward the heavens.
Although she hadn’t made a sound, he’d sensed her presence. “Did I wake you?” he asked, turning to face her.
Only by not being there. But she kept that answer to herself. “That was a beautiful chant,” she said.
“It’s a Hozonji, a song of blessing,” he answered, then wanting her to understand him, added, “When you take care of what’s most important first, other things eventually fall into place.”
Dana nodded in silent agreement. Ranger’s strength came from more than his toned body, training and intelligence. His beliefs made him the man he was.
She followed him back inside the hogan and helped him gather their things. “Do you think your friend will get back to us today with the rest of the information we need?”
He nodded. “I’m almost certain of it.”
“We should try to eat along the way,” she said as they got underway, circling around toward the highway.
“There’ll be people selling naniscaada sandwiches, made with homemade tortillas or fry bread, out of the back of their trucks between here and Shiprock. That’s the best rez food there is.”
THEY’D JUST REACHED the highway when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he put the phone on speaker. “Good morning, Maria,” he said.
“I have the address. 222 Canyon Way in Bloomfield. When I accessed the address of the registered pet owner, the software also listed a complaint filed just yesterday. Two vicious dogs have allegedly been harassing children through the bars of the front gate. Animal control is scheduled to make a visit this afternoon to check it out.”
“That’s his main address,” Ranger said, surprised. “ Trujillo owns several properties and he’s been moving around. That’s why the FBI hasn’t been able to zero in on him. But it sure sounds like he’s back there now. Any chance of you asking animal control to hold off on their investigation until tomorrow?”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Not really.”
“No surprise. I’ll make the request, but no guarantees.”
“I understand. And, Maria, thanks again.”
“Remember, you owe me.”
“I will, and thanks,” he said, hanging up and looking over at Dana. “ Trujillo will undoubtedly move on after a visit from animal control, so we need to get over there as soon as possible and reconnoiter,” Ranger said. “Maybe we can find a way to put your plan in motion.”
“Food first,” Dana said as her stomach rumbled loudly.
He chuckled. “Good idea. Otherwise, your stomach will give us away for sure.”
RANGER LAY FLAT on his stomach, surveying the gated mansion from the adjacent hillside. Two Doberman pinschers had been given free run of the grounds, and they made frequent stops at the gate to sniff and posture. Ranger handed the binoculars to Dana so she could take a look, then called his brother.
Ranger gave Hunter a quick rundown. “I’m planning on taking a clandestine tour. Is there any intel we can get on the house, or maybe on Trujillo ’s habits? We’re looking for a stash of cash he’d keep nearby.”
“I can get you the plans to the house in a short time, but as far as his habits…that might take some time.”
“That could be a problem. Our man’s scheduled for a visit from animal control. Once they come by, he’ll probably pick up stakes and move on.”
“Hang tight. I’ll see what I can do,” Hunter answered.
They waited for over thirty minutes and Ranger used the time to maintain surveillance on Trujillo ’s estate. He needed to get a feel for the place and its rhythms.
When his phone rang, Ranger was ready.
“I’ve got some intel,” Hunter said. “About four months ago, Ignacio accused his housekeeper of stealing and fired her. But as it turns out, her cousin’s one of ours. According to what she told him, Ignacio has a safe in each of his homes, every one of them behind paintings above the bedroom dressers.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“But she also said that every house is full of alarms.”
“I’ll be on the lookout.”
“We’ll set up a watch on the place. That way if he bolts we’ll still be right on his tail,” Hunter said.
After Ranger hung up, Dana glanced over at him. “We’re going to need a really good plan to get into that house. I don’t want to be a hot lunch for those guard dogs.”
“Don’t worry about them. I’ve got that covered. My Shicheii taught me something that’ll take care of that problem without harming the animals.”
KNOWING THAT GETTING on Trujillo ’s property would be tricky, Dana had insisted on a diversion. Ranger had heard her out and agreed on her plan.
On schedule, Dana called Agent Harris and let him know where Trujillo was. Then, before he could inundate her with questions, she hung up.
“You were right. He already knew about this place,” she told Ranger. “He asked me how we’d found this address even before I’d finished giving it to him. But if Harris was waiting for Trujillo to make a move before closing in on him, we’ve now forced the agent’s hand.”
They didn’t have to wait long before Agent Harris and two county deputies came to pay Trujillo a visit.
“They’re all in the front room,” Ranger said, looking through the binoculars. “One of Trujillo ’s men is watching the front gate, but we can bypass him altogether if we climb the adobe wall out back.”
“And lower ourselves into the jaws of his killer dogs…”
“Don’t worry. I told you, I’ve got that covered. Just stay behind me,” he said.
“Count on it,” she answered with a hesitant smile.
“Our biggest problem once we’re inside will be bypassing the alarms. Whatever you do, don’t touch anything.”
“I’ve got a good eye for detail. If I spot anything, I’ll give you a heads-up. I just wish we weren’t doing this in broad daylight.”
“That’s going to work in our favor. No one will expect a break-in now, especially while the FBI and police are inside. And the fact that someone’s at home means the internal motion sensors will probably be turned off.”
They stopped by his truck and Ranger picked up a small backpack.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
“Everything I might need,” he said, slipping it over his shoulder.
They walked down a side road, crossed the street, then stepped over to the six-foot-high adobe wall. Ranger went over first. “Come on,” he whispered a few seconds later.
She jumped up, scrambled to the top, then lowered herself quickly to the ground. “The dogs?”
“Don’t run, just walk-quickly-to the back of the house.”
Before she could take a step, the two guard dogs came running around the corner. Spotting intruders, their hackles rose, and they rushed at them, low to the ground, teeth bared, snarling.
Ranger stood in front of her, reached into his pocket and brought out a small reddish-brown spear point. Not looking at the dogs, he focused on the stone, whispering in Navajo.
Terrified, Dana closed her eyes and pressed her back to the wall. After only a few seconds, she couldn’t hear the dogs anymore. Opening one eye, she peered out. To her amazement, both dogs had stopped about four feet away and were now sitting, alert but calm.
Ranger then whispered something else, and both dogs lay down.
“It’s like they’ve been hypnotized. What’s in that stone?” she whispered to Ranger.
“It’s flint. The way light flashes off it represents lightning and predawn.” Without looking back at the dogs, they walked quickly around to the back of the large adobe home. “ Flint was created when the hides of the monsters that preyed on the earth disintegrated. It has power and can restore harmony.”
When they reached the corner, she glanced back, but the dogs still hadn’t moved.
Ranger walked over to the big wooden door, then pointed to a small sensor near the wrought-iron handle. “We’ve got to disable this before we open the door.”
He reached into his backpack, pulled out a slender piece of magnetized material, then stuck it to the sensor.
No alarms went off when they slipped inside. The house was old, with thick walls, but they could hear Agent Harris a few rooms away, hammering Trujillo with question after question. Trujillo didn’t seem overly disturbed, and spoke quietly in response.
Ranger gestured down the long hallway, and Dana followed, trying to move as silently as he did. They reached the master suite several seconds later. This room, with a brick floor, high-beamed ceiling and colorful area rugs, was as big as her entire house. The door was open, but Ranger closed it behind them, turning the small lever that locked it shut.
Ranger pointed to the painting over the dresser, then moved around in front of it, studying the setup. Again, using small magnets to trick the mechanisms into sending a closed circuit signal, he was able to pull back the hinged painting without triggering an alarm. Behind it was a small safe with a door the size of a piece of notebook paper and a dial that reminded Dana of a big combination lock.
Ranger reached down into his backpack again. She half expected him to pull out something high tech, like a laser blowtorch. When he brought out a stethoscope, she chuckled softly.
Seeing her expression, he whispered. “It’s a cheap, old design safe. I’ll be able to break into it fairly quickly. Go over to the door and listen for anyone coming down the hall.”
She stood by the door, listening, but all she could hear was Agent Harris’s voice. After a few minutes, she turned to see how Ranger was doing. The safe was already open, and he was setting bundles of cash on the bed. “We’re not going to steal it,” he whispered. “We’re only going to relocate the stuff. How about behind the cold air return vent?” He pointed to a grill just above the baseboard.
“I’ll unscrew it for you,” she said. “It sounds like Harris is still giving Trujillo some heat.”
He handed her a small mechanical screwdriver with several head choices, and while she transferred the money, he took a CD from the safe and put it inside a desk top computer across the room and made a copy. He repeated the process with two more disks, then placed the originals back in the safe and closed it up.
“Why didn’t you just take the originals?” she asked.
“I don’t want him to cover his tracks. I want him to think that one of his employees or goons was looking for a quick score and took his cash. I bet he’s got the combination hidden around here someplace anyway.”
As they slipped back out into the hallway, Dana could hear Agent Harris still grilling Trujillo. Judging from Trujillo ’s sarcastic responses, she was sure he believed he was untouchable. Maybe the loss of so much cash would get a reaction from the lowlife, and undercut his cocky arrogance. They needed to push him into making a mistake and exposing himself directly.
They stepped outside seconds later and to Dana’s surprise the two dogs were still lying down as if on “stay.” “Wow,” she whispered.
He held one finger over his mouth and hurried across the grounds toward the wall, his hand in hers.
Once they’d gone over the adobe wall, Ranger poked his head over and whistled. The Dobermans jumped up and ran over to the wall, barking furiously.
Dana said nothing until they were in Ranger’s truck almost a mile away. “That was really something back there…what you did with the dogs, I mean. You never cease to amaze me. Every time I think I know you, I discover something new.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She smiled slowly and gave him an honest answer. “Not so far.”