“The young fellow who works graveyard shift just came in to pick up his check. He’s just arranged to go on vacation for the rest of the week. If you want to talk to him, you better do it now. I asked him to wait for you.”

  Ashe thanked the man and hurried back to the motel’s office. A short red-haired man in his early twenties was leaning against the counter, reading a paperback mystery.

  Ashe pulled out Katrina’s photo and held it up. “Do you recognize this woman?”

  The young man glanced at the snapshot distractedly, then shook his head. “Nope. Wish I did, though.” He dog-eared a page in his book, then closed it.

  “Are you certain you don’t recognize her?” Ashe pressed him to take a closer look.

  The clerk looked at the photo again, this time more carefully. Finally, he shook his head. “The only woman I’ve seen around here was older than this one, maybe in her early thirties. She had black hair, the almost-blue shade that you know is dyed. She was good-looking, too, but in a hard kind of way, like she’d been around the block a few times, if you know what I mean. It certainly wasn’t the woman in that photo.”

  “Okay.” Ashe placed the snapshot back in his wallet. “I hear you’re taking an unexpected vacation.”

  “Yeah. I’m going rafting for four days. I’ve worked here for a year and they owe me some time off. I figured I’d better go now while the owner’s son is still in town. He’s taking my shift later tonight.”

  It sounded plausible, but the clerk’s decision to leave town was sending warning signals to his brain. “Where are you planning to go rafting?”

  The red-haired man reluctantly told Ashe the particulars of his trip. “It’s no big deal. I’ll be on the Animas River above Durango. I’ll be fishing a bit, too. If you need me again, I’ll be back this weekend. Or you can drive up and look for the raft.”

  “I may do that,” Ashe said, keeping his tone hard as he handed the clerk his card. “Call me at the station if you remember anything about the people in room ten.” If something was going on and this guy was part of it, he wanted him to know he’d be on his tail. Seeing the wide-eyed look the young man gave him satisfied Ashe.

  As he stepped out into the parking lot, Ashe tried to reach Casey again. This time, the transmission on the cell phone went through. She made a quick apology, explaining that he must have called when she’d turned off the unit to replace the battery.

  He filled her in on his progress. “But it looks like this trail’s gone cold.”

  “I’m on my way to meet you right now. Hang tight,” she said, then added, “I ran into a bit of a snag myself when I tried to contact my sources for the address and number. My supervisor from the Bureau got all over my case. I haven’t been as religious with the daily reports as I should have been, and he made it clear how displeased he was. It took some time to talk my way through that.”

  Ashe said nothing. He didn’t believe her—not for one second. She probably had just turned off her cell phone, knowing he couldn’t reach her without it unless she was in her vehicle. Though he believed her when she said she’d been doing her job, he couldn’t figure out exactly what that job was. Instinct assured him that they were working against each other on at least some aspects of the case. On the other hand, he was convinced that her determination to find the killer was real.

  “I’ve had our department on the lookout for Fox’s car, but I’m ready to put out an APB on her, as well.”

  “I think that would be a mistake. If no one can find Fox, then she’s probably safe from the killer, too. If we start calling attention to her, that could make things a lot worse.”

  “Point taken,” Ashe agreed. “But I’m not having them back off on the search for her car. If it’s around, the killer can find it as well as we could, and the best chance she’s got is with us.”

  “Do you really believe Fox lied to you on the phone?”

  “‘Lied’?” He paused. “That may be too harsh a word. I think she may have been coerced, or conned into calling me.”

  “Did she sound afraid, or just in a hurry?”

  It was as if she’d read his mind. The thought disturbed him. There were too many other feelings between them—feelings best left unacknowledged and unexplored. “She sounded in a hurry,” he admitted reluctantly.

  “Don’t you think you could be borrowing trouble?”

  He still hadn’t answered her when her car pulled into the parking lot. He watched her step out of her vehicle and walk up to him. She moved gracefully; her hips swayed with a sensuality he knew she wasn’t aware of.

  Casey smiled at him, then looked around. “I hate to point this out, but you might not have liked the answers you could have uncovered, had you actually found her. If Fox had been kept against her will in a place this small, the clerks would probably have noticed something wrong,” she said, waving her hand around. “It’s hard to hide anything in a place this size. It’s not as if Fox and a kidnapper could have disappeared in the crowd.”

  She had a point, but he’d still bet on his own gut feelings. Fox was in some kind of trouble. He was as sure of that as he was of his own name.

  “Let’s get back to work on the case.” She shrugged. “We need to track down Patrick Gordon. It’s a bit earlier than we’d planned, but—”

  “I have a better idea. My foster parents had a safe-deposit box. Those take special authorization to open, but I know where they kept their key, so that might expedite matters.”

  “I can help you get the clearance you’ll need. Let’s go back to the station, and I’ll make a few phone calls.”

  When he looked in the rearview mirror as they drove back, he saw Casey talking on her cell phone. Right now she was all cop, but he knew the other side of her—her softness, her gentleness—which tugged at him, winding itself around him, making him want her despite his conviction that she wasn’t all she seemed to be.

  He forced those thoughts from his mind. He could share nothing of himself with someone he couldn’t trust.

  Determined to get some answers, Ashe picked up his cell phone and dialed his old friend at the Bureau. The agent had served in the Reservation area while Ashe had been growing up. Nowadays he was more of a desk jockey in Albuquerque, but that suited Joe Sandoval just fine. He only had a year left before retirement.

  Ashe pressed him again about Casey.

  “Like I said before, I can’t find anything on her,” he replied. “But let me ask one more person here. I’ll get back to you shortly.”

  “You’ve got my number.”

  Ashe hung up, an uneasy feeling spreading over him. Something told him that the time had come to dissolve his partnership with Casey, and go after the truth on his own.

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT the station a short while later, Casey immediately commandeered an office and a telephone. He gave her the privacy she seemed to want, but not as a courtesy. He was still waiting to hear from Joe, and be preferred not to be with Casey when the call came.

  After fifteen minutes, Casey came to the door of the office and gestured for him to join her. “I’ve found a judge who’ll give us the paperwork we need to get into the safe-deposit box right away.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Do you have the key with you?”

  “It was part of the evidence we collected, so it’s here at the station.”

  “Good. You’d better go sign for it.” Hearing the phone ring behind her, she excused herself and went back inside.

  As Ashe walked to the evidence room, his cell phone rang. He flipped the unit open.

  “It’s Joe. Hey, buddy, are you sure you got her name right? According to the senior agent on hand today, we don’t have anyone by that name assigned to your area.”

  “Are you saying that she’s an impostor? That there is no Agent Feist working for the Bureau?”

  “No, not at all. Her files could be an eyes-only thing. I’m just telling you that I can’t find anything on an Agent Casey Feist, and nobody I’ve asked seems to know her or have heard of her.”

  “Interesting,” he answered, then heard someone approaching.

  “Are you ready to roll?” Casey said from behind him.

  “Just about.” Saying goodbye quickly, he closed up the phone, wondering how much she’d overheard. After signing for the key, he walked out of the evidence room with her.

  “Did you mention my name to someone on the phone just a moment ago?”

  He met her gaze. “Did I? Maybe I was thinking about you,” he said half-teasingly.

  “Out loud, to someone on the phone?”

  “Hey, it’s just guy talk.” He gave her a crooked half smile. “Does that bother you?”

  “You bet. I don’t like having my name tossed around.”

  He saw the apprehension on her face. She was as wary as a coyote walking on ice.

  “You said there is no Casey Feist, or something like that.”

  He hated lying to her, but there was no choice until he’d figured out what game she was playing. “And there isn’t—not in my personal life,” he said. “People are constantly trying to pair me up with whoever they see me with. Women, that is. The Reservation is like that when you’re not married. They do the same with my brother whenever he’s at home.”

  She smiled. “Oh, that I understand. The same thing happens to me. I think people find fixing up a single friend or associate an irresistible temptation.”

  As they got under way, he could feel the special electricity that sparked the air between them. In the confines of the carryall, every breath he took filled his lungs with the scent of her. Her perfume reminded him of a field of mountain wildflowers.

  “How come you haven’t married?” he asked.

  “It’s too hard for me to really lower my guard around anyone for any length of time. As you noted once, I don’t trust easily. What about you? Why are you still single?”

  “I always figured I’d marry a woman from my tribe, but my work and life-style make it difficult. On a personal level, I have more in common with the traditionalists, but they don’t approve of what I do for a living. The modernists think I’m too much of a traditionalist and that I wouldn’t have enough in common with them.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to be single for a long time.”

  “Maybe so, but you never can tell what the future holds.” He saw the way she’d glanced at him when he’d said that. Longing and logic were at war in her hazel eyes. He understood that only too well. Even now that they both knew there were secrets between them, that special chemistry they shared continued to tug at them.

  As they traveled along the river valley, with desert on both sides, silence descended between them. His thoughts shifted to the safe-deposit box they were about to open. He wondered what lay hidden there and if fate, as it had done so far, would continue to exact a harsh penalty for every secret he uncovered.

  CASEY GATHERED HER thoughts as she entered the bank with Ashe beside her. She had to hand it to him. He was a very good cop. But, despite his smooth evasions, she knew that he’d checked her out. She couldn’t blame him and, in fact, had expected it. That was why she’d been careful to cover her trail. The Bureau would back her. Ashe’s source would get an unpleasant surprise soon enough.

  It was nearly closing time, but they were expected. Casey flashed her badge as she met with the bank manager. A moment later they were ushered to the vault. She could feel the tension in Ashe as clearly as she felt her own. They needed a lead to the killer, and the more time that elapsed without one, the worse it was going to get.

  “Would you prefer that I remain present?” the bank manager asked.

  “That’s not necessary,” Casey said. “Thank you.”

  As the manager left, Ashe opened the safe-deposit box, and set it on the table beside them.

  Casey was right next to him as Ashe pulled out several envelopes and placed them on the table.

  “My foster parents’ will is here. And these are Fox’s adoption papers, the originals. I don’t recognize the last name of her parents, but both are listed as deceased.”

  “What’s in those other envelopes?” Casey asked, reaching around him and taking some official government documents from the box.

  Ashe glanced down as she unfolded the letters. “Army discharge papers?” he queried, taking one from her hand while she looked through the others. “Another mystery,” he added, shaking his head. “Here’s a letier of commendation, signed by an army training officer at the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia.”

  “If he was in the army and trained at Quantico, he must have been in the CID, the Criminal Investigative Division. He would have conducted criminal investigations on bases, or maybe been involved in counterterrorist work. They also work with hostage negotiations, drug investigations and protection duty,” Casey explained.

  “Any of that could have placed him in danger. That must be where the bullet came from.” He exhaled softly. “I can’t believe that he never once mentioned his military career to us.”

  “It wasn’t the kind of work that fosters talkative people.”

  “Good point,” he conceded. “But there are years missing. He was married when he joined the military at twenty-two, after college. He spent ten years in the service. But there are six years unaccounted for between his discharge and the time he opened the school on the Rez. I wonder...”

  Casey couldn’t even begin to imagine what Ashe was going through. The loving family he’d thought he’d known was slowly disintegrating, becoming nothing more than an enigma couched in secrecy and shadows. Her heart ached not only for the loss he’d already faced, but also for what was yet to come.

  “You have no idea what happened in those six years?”

  “No. Can you get any more information for me on his military background?” Ashe asked. “After a career in the CID, there’s no way of telling how many enemies he made. Or if his expertise led him to something else after his discharge that is linked to this case.”

  “I can try to get something, but the military moves at its own speed. Don’t expect any instant answers.”

  “The Bureau can exert pressure.”

  His eagle-sharp eyes bored through her. She felt the separate impacts of the warrior and the gentle man she’d kissed as he held her gaze. He was at war with himself, as she was. What made things even worse between them was that her cover as a Bureau agent was wearing very thin. But she couldn’t tell him the truth—at least, not yet. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “Will you also run a full check on Fox’s natural parents?”

  She hesitated. “All right, but I honestly think the answer to the murder lies closer to home. What do you say we go pay Patrick Gordon a visit?”

  Ashe placed the contents of the box in a large manila envelope, then replaced the box. “Yeah. I think it’s time he and I met face-to-face.”

  The words chilled her. She knew Ashe was walking a thin line. She wasn’t sure if he wanted trouble, or was just steeling himself to face whatever came. There was a dangerous edge to him now.

  As his phone rang, Ashe opened the receiver and identified himself. Casey led the way out, aware of him behind her, but not looking back.

  “Yeah, I’m listening,” Ashe spoke, his voice taut. “Wait a minute. You’re saying that everything checks out, and you were given bad information before?”

  Casey wasn’t sure whom he was talking to, but she could make a good guess. The machinery covering her had finally clicked into place and his source in the Bureau had suddenly found himself forced to backpedal at high speed. Yet, she could tell from Ashe’s tone that he wasn’t buying the cover-up.

  As they got under way, Ashe lapsed into a long silence. The documents he’d retrieved from the safe-deposit box and signed out of the bank were on the seat next to him.

  “Gordon’s home, according to the address we have, isn’t far from here,” Ashe said. “Maybe this will be the lead that closes the case once and for all.”

  As he glanced over at her, Casey’s breath caught in her throat. A sudden and startling revelation shook her all the way to her bones. The truth was, she didn’t want the case to end. She’d found something here with Ashe that she’d never experienced before. The magic that happened whenever they were together, was opening her heart and mind to a world she hadn’t known existed; magic that made everything she did mean more. There was beauty in simplicity here that she was only just beginning to see and understand. For one wild instant, she felt the urge to reach for Ashe’s hand. She wanted to be part of him and his world, even if only for a moment.

  Aware of the recklessness of such thoughts, she glanced out the window, determined to think about something else. “Nothing in this case has been simple,” she warned Ashe.

  “1 wouldn’t count on finding any fast answers when we question Gordon, if I were you.”

  The drive to Waterflow, a small agricultural community just east of Shiprock, didn’t take long. Ashe pulled up to a duplex with a run-down yard. Waist-high tumbleweeds occupied the area where a lawn must have been at one time.

  As they walked up to the front door, Casey’s skin began to prickle, her senses suddenly alert to danger. She glanced at Ashe, and saw his jaw clench and his shoulders grow rigid with tension.

  “You feel it, too, don’t you? Something’s wrong here,” she whispered.

  “I think Gordon knows who we are, and why we’re here.”

  They both made a point of staying to the sides of Gordon’s front door, and they each had one hand on their sidearms. Ashe knocked hard. “Police, Gordon. We need to talk to you.”

  They heard a sudden loud crash, followed by running footsteps, then total silence.

  Chapter Nine

  “He’s making a run for it,” Ashe said, then kicked the door open.

  “I’ll go around. We can try to cut him off,” Casey said.

  Ashe raced through the small apartment and, as he reached the kitchen, saw the back door was open. Gordon was across the yard, trying to climb over a neighbor’s coyote fencing, but the closely spaced vertical cedar poles posed a difficult obstacle. He jumped for the top, lost his grip, and fell to the ground hard.