“Still the contemplative one, little brother?” Travis hissed, taking off his jacket. “Let’s stop dancing. Tell me where Little Fox is, and you can keep your face out of the dirt.”

  “She’s safe, and in hiding. I can’t take you to her right now without placing her in danger again. Someone is still out to kill her. Don’t try to force the issue.”

  “Since I intend to find out where she is, I’ll just have to convince you to change your mind.” Ashe saw the flash of movement, and rolled his head back as Travis faked a left jab. He knew a right was coming instead. Travis was a skilled fighter, but Ashe had a few good moves of his own. As Travis’s fist struck air instead of cheekbone, Ashe blocked his brother’s arm up and drove a hard right into Travis’s breadbasket.

  It felt as if he’d punched a brick wall. Travis’s stomach muscles were rock hard. It wouldn’t be easy. “This will get you nowhere,” Ashe growled, exchanging blocked jabs with his brother. They’d sparred so many times before, it was difficult for either to score with a solid punch.

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” Travis slipped past Ashe’s counterpunch, and then, grabbing his arm, threw his brother to the ground, flat on his back.

  Ashe sprang up just as Travis reached for him again and grabbed Travis’s sleeve in a judo move he knew his brother wouldn’t expect. Falling back, Ashe threw Travis into the air. Travis hit hard, but rolled up to a fighting stance.

  “You’ve learned a few things while I’ve been away, little brother.”

  “You haven’t,” Ashe retorted.

  They continued to spar, both pressing unsuccessful attacks and striking only glancing blows until they were both too tired to keep moving. At long last, Ashe leaned back against the side of the trailer, trying to catch his breath, and wondering if the bruises to his arms from blocked jabs would be hurting for the rest of the week.

  Travis stood with his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths as he wiped away a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth. “I’m not giving up until I get better answers,” he said, advancing toward Ashe once more.

  “Don’t you get it?” Ashe demanded, once again on his back on the ground from a lightning-quick throw. “We’re too evenly matched in a clean fight. You can’t take me any more than I can take you.”

  Travis was on one knee, having gone down, as well. “Yeah, but it still felt good to go a few rounds.”

  Travis stood slowly and offered Ashe a hand up. “We need to work together, little brother.” This time his voice held more emotion. “We’ve lost our parents again, and now it’s Little Fox’s life we’re talking about. We can’t let anyone stand against us and succeed.”

  Ashe nodded. “We’re getting close to the killer—I can feel it. I can’t prove it, but I think he’s connected to Fox’s past.” Ashe filled his brother in quickly about the Witness Protection Program tie-in. “Casey has done her best to keep Fox safe. She’s a good agent,” he admitted, wondering why it hurt so much to say that.

  Travis gave his brother a long, speculative look. “Well, I’ll be. I never thought I’d see the day. Can I assume that your interest in this Casey is more than just professional?”

  “What makes you say that?” he challenged, neither confirming nor denying his brother’s guess.

  “Your voice changes when you talk about her. It gets softer...almost mushy,” Travis added with a grin that went crooked as the cut on his lip cracked open again. “That, and your reaction to my comment.”

  Ashe shot his brother an icy look. “I think you’ve been standing too close to the artillery and your brain’s scrambled.”

  “Yeah, yeah, but I’m right and you.know it.”

  Ashe shrugged as if dismissing the matter. “The way I feel about her is irrelevant. We have no future together.”

  “Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He rubbed his neck with one hand. “Now quit wasting my time and tell me where they’re keeping Little Fox. From what you said, I gather you basically have one retired agent watching over her while they’re holed up in the middle of nowhere. The other, younger one is working with you on the murder investigation. That’s a good tactic in one way, and a lousy one in another. If the bad guys manage to find the place and strike at a time when the guy’s asleep, he might get caught off guard completely. There’s no possibility of immediate backup, either.”

  “And you’re offering your services as a second guard, I assume?”

  “Yeah, and my training can be an asset. I can make sure no one can get close to their hiding place, if they’re stupid enough to try.”

  Ashe saw the determination in his brother’s face and nodded. “I agree with you. You would be an asset, and I think Fox would like you to be there, too. It can’t be easy for her to trust her life to a virtual stranger when someone keeps trying to kill her.”

  “Take me to her now, then.”

  “I’ll need to clear it with Casey first.” Ashe was about to do just that when a call came over his handheld radio. He picked it up from the trailer step and answered it quickly, recognizing his captain’s voice.

  “I want you at the station now,” Todacheene ordered. “I have two motel employees that swear you were part of a shootout just a few hours ago. I want a full report from you immediately, including the reasons why you didn’t call in for backup or file a report.”

  “On my way, Captain.” Ashe rehooked the handheld to his belt and glanced at his brother as he picked up his weapon and holster. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ve got nothing to tell them, especially related to Fox or her location. I’ll be back in an hour, and then I’ll make arrangements to take you to see Fox and introduce you to the man who’s guarding her. Meanwhile, you could put my lock back on, to kill time.”

  Ashe arrived at the station a short while later. His knuckles were scuffed, his clothes were wrinkled and dusty, and one side of his mouth felt swollen. Had there been time, he would have showered before coming in, but experience had warned him not to make the captain wait a second longer than was necessary.

  Ashe had just entered the squad room when Todacheene bellowed out his name. None of the other officers present even glanced up. When no one looked at you, big trouble lay ahead.

  As he entered the captain’s office, he saw Casey and Prescott already seated there. Casey’s expression was set. Making a quick guess, he figured that Prescott had been trying to press her for information and had not been successful. The anger on Prescott’s face supported that theory.

  The captain sat in his chair, looking as friendly as one of the rock giants on Easter Island. “About time you got here, Detective. Did you know that Patrick Gordon escaped from the mental-health center lockup this morning?”

  “No, I didn’t. Any idea where he’s gone?” Ashe wondered if Gordon had been the one in the van today. He certainly had produced a weapon before, and was dangerously unstable.

  “I was hoping you might know. It’s time for you to start explaining what you’ve been up to. My patience has been stretched to the limit.” Todacheene glanced out the window, then stood and edged closer to the glass, studying something outside. “Is that a bullet hole in your department vehicle?”

  “Probably,” Ashe replied.

  “I suppose you’ll tell me that it happened when you pulled over that kid for cutting in front of you,” Prescott interjected.

  “Actually, sir, I wasn’t planning to tell you anything at all unless my captain instructed me to,” Ashe said affably. “You don’t sign my paycheck.” He started to sit down, but the captain stopped him with one look.

  “Don’t even think of getting comfortable. Stand there until I tell you differently.”

  Todacheene fixed Ashe with a glare that would have made most people flinch. Ashe stood a little straighter. “I got a call this afternoon from a terrified desk clerk reporting a gun battle at the Prairie Dog Apartments. You were recognized and identified, along with your police unit,” he said, looking at Ashe. He shifted his gaze and stared at Casey. “So were you, Agent Feist. Now, the owners of the place are holding us accountable for the damages to their property.” He glared at Ashe. “I want a full explanation, and I want it now.”

  Ashe stared in silence at the decorative wall clock behind the captain.

  “Sir,” Casey said, “Detective Redhawk was assisting me on a federal matter.”

  “That kind of explanation is not sufficient, Agent Feist. And I’d appreciate it if you’d remain silent. I was speaking to my detective.”

  Anger flared in Casey’s hazel eyes, but she remained quiet.

  “Well?” Captain Todacheene stared at Ashe, eyebrows raised. “Are you going to talk or do I ask for your shield? You still answer to me, Detective.”

  “Captain,” Casey started again. “If you’d let me—”

  “Quiet.” Todacheene’s voice was as sharp as the crack of a whip. His gaze settled on Ashe. “You look slovenly, and that’s a disgrace to this department. Do you honestly think you’re above meeting our standards? And what on earth made you think I’d let you turn the county into a war zone?”

  “It wasn’t our intent to become involved in an armed confrontation,” Casey interrupted. “We were protecting a civilian connected with the case we’ve been working.”

  “Who? Who were you protecting?” Prescott demanded.

  Captain Todacheene glared at Casey, then got up and walked toward Prescott, until he stood only inches from the other man. “I’m interviewing one of my people. I don’t want to hear one more word from anyone else in this room, including you, Counselor.” He turned to face Ashe. “Spill it. I’m tired of waiting.”

  Ashe spoke. “Captain, we were protecting Fox. Someone tried to shoot her, and we did what was necessary to defend her.”

  “You found her?” He looked at Casey who, this time, remained silent.

  Prescott looked at Ashe, then at the captain. “Wait one minute! You found the only possible witness to a double homicide, and you didn’t notify my office? I want to talk to her right now.”

  Casey pulled out her Deputy Marshal’s star. “Mr. Prescott, I was sent here on a special undercover assignment. I’m from the U.S. Marshals Service, not the Bureau,” she said. “And Captain Todacheene has been cooperating from the beginning by protecting my cover. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you have access to Katrina Johnson at this time. Ms. Johnson is under my protection and is safe, but her life is still being threatened. Until I’m able to find and apprehend the criminal or criminals responsible for killing the Johnsons and attacking Katrina, her whereabouts will remain a secret, even from your office.”

  “I’m the district attorney in this county. I’ll be prosecuting those responsible, if they are ever arrested. Who has more of a right to know this witness’s whereabouts than I do?”

  “The only people who have such a ‘right’ are myself and the individuals guarding her,” Casey said simply.

  “You cannot withhold this information, Deputy Marshal Feist. I won’t put up with this high-handed attitude. I’ll take this to your superiors if I have to.”

  “Feel free. The number is in the phone book,” Casey answered calmly.

  Prescott turned to glare at Ashe, venom in his eyes. “You out-and-out lied to me.”

  “I did what was necessary to protect a life,” Ashe replied.

  “All right, that’s enough,” Todacheene snapped. “You’re facing all kinds of disciplinary action, Detective Redhawk, and I can take your shield, as well. You owe me a full explanation, and I intend to get one. I already have the necessary clearance, and I will not allow you to continue to circumvent the regulations of this department.”

  “That is not my intent, Captain. I’ve already seen how far the men after Fox are willing to push this. It looks like they killed my foster parents trying to get to her. I believe it’s in everyone’s best interests if I keep quiet about Fox’s location.”

  Prescott stood and faced Todacheene. “Take his badge, Captain. I’ll make sure he never gets it back.”

  “I told you not to interfere,” Todacheene growled. “This is in my hands now. I’ll contact you when there is something new to report.”

  Prescott stared at the captain for a moment, clenched his fists, then wordlessly spun around and stormed out of the office. Todacheene expelled his breath in a hiss, then regarded the two people before him. Moments ticked by, but no one broke the silence.

  “Deputy Feist,” he said at last, “you were supposed to work with this department, not just one officer. But I do understand. We still have no idea who the leak is, or in which department he’s operating—yours or mine.”

  “That’s precisely why I can’t give out any more information—not with the life of the witness I’m sworn to protect hanging in the balance,” Casey said. “My supervisor and a handpicked team are searching within the U.S. Marshals Service for a leak there. It’s part of my job to search for a leak here. What I’d like to do next is see if anyone at this facility has had any suspicious contacts recently. To do that, I need to study the station’s phone logs for the past few months. They may help me pinpoint the individual who’s been passing information.”

  “Only police emergency calls are logged in any great detail. The ones that come through the switchboard are simply listed according to name of caller and recipient. Checking them all will entail going through several dozen logbooks,” Todacheene warned.

  “I’d still like to go ahead,” Casey said.

  “Okay. Get started. But no holding back—not on this. Clear? I want whatever you find as soon as you have it, regardless of the direction it leads. Nobody should be considered clean without proof, including the detective and myself.”

  “I agree,” Casey answered. “In the meantime, I hope you have officers out looking for Patrick Gordon.”

  Todacheene nodded. “The whole county, including the Farmington police. We’ll find him.”

  Fifteen minutes later Casey and Ashe were closeted in the cramped records room. The table in the center was just large enough to hold the notebooks representing the past two months of daily phone logs.

  Nonemergency incoming calls to the Navajo police were identified only by the telephone number of the caller. She handed Ashe the list of phone numbers she’d made. “Those are all our regional office numbers and the home numbers of our employees. Let me know if any of those numbers, or numbers from those area codes show up as incoming calls prior to two weeks ago. Also, if any number you see listed catches your eye for any reason, tell me about it.”

  Ashe stared at the stacks of papers in front of him. “This is going to take a while, and I’ve got an impatient brother waiting.” He told her about Travis’s arrival.

  “I’ll need to talk to him before deciding if he can join our team.”

  “He won’t take no for an answer.”

  “That seems to be a trait in your family,” Casey replied, with a trace of a smile.

  Ashe gazed at her for a moment, noting how tired she looked. His heart twisted. He wanted to draw her into his arms, to love her, to hear her cry out his name as she’d done yesterday—a lifetime ago. But so much had happened since then. Casey wasn’t the woman he’d held then. He wondered how she had been able to fool him for so long. He still couldn’t understand her reluctance to trust a man she’d given herself to so completely. She could have found a way to tell him Fox was safe without compromising herself. Yet she’d held back.

  Slowly an explanation came to him, giving him the answers that had eluded him until now. But instead of relief, it filled him only with pain. Casey had held back something far more precious than information; she’d kept her heart protected by barriers he’d never really surmounted.

  “You look as if you’ve lost your best friend,” she said, her voice a tortured whisper.

  “I have.” Ashe tore his gaze from hers, opened the first logbook and began to work.

  He called his trailer and spoke to Travis, assuring his brother he would be back soon. He knew Travis was impatient, and he didn’t want him setting out to search on his own.

  “I recognize this telephone number,” Casey said, pointing to an entry in Captain Todacheene’s log. “This call came from the Marshals Service office in Phoenix. I worked there for a while. The entry indicates a call came in three months ago. That substantially precedes my active involvement in this case.”

  “Phoenix again. That’s where my foster father worked as a P.I. many, many years ago.”

  “That was fifteen years ago. I don’t think your foster father’s past has anything to do with this call.”

  Ashe stood behind Casey, looking over her shoulder. “Does anyone call periodically to check on protected witnesses?”

  “Yes, but they’d call the witness or her guardians, never an outside third party—not unless there was a full-scale emergency that required police involvement.”

  “Let’s go talk to the captain and see what he remembers about that call.”

  “And why he didn’t bother mentioning it to either of us before,” Casey added pointedly.

  A few minutes later, Casey stood in front of Todacheene’s desk and placed the phone log before him. “Do you remember speaking to someone from the Marshals Service office on that date?”

  The captain leaned back and rubbed his jaw. “I remember getting a strange call about that time, now that you mention it. But the call was a very short one, certainly nothing earth-shattering. A deputy named James called me and asked if our case file on Katrina was still secure. I was told they’d had an unauthorized access into their computer system, so they were checking to see if anyone had made inquiries relating to individuals under their protection.”

  “It sounds like a fishing expedition to me,” Ashe said, glancing over at Casey.

  “Maybe. First, let me find out who James is. Then we’ll know more. The name’s not familiar to me, but that doesn’t mean anything. We have a lot of people.”

  Ashe’s gaze remained on Casey as she stepped out of the room.

  “Be careful, Detective,” the captain said, interrupting his thoughts.