“Couldn’t leave her here to die. I’m just glad I seen her.” He pointed to the canyon floor. “I was hunting over there by the pass when I saw her.”

  Sun realized how fortunate their Jane Doe was. “How on earth did you see her from there?”

  “Binoculars. Seen a foot first.” He pointed. “Purple sock. Went from there.”

  The girl’s left foot was indeed visible through the leaves, the purple sock hanging halfway off her tiny foot, bright against the fallen brown leaves and brush that surrounded it. But the odds of him seeing even that were fairly astronomical.

  Levi wedged himself beside Sun and took the blanket out of her backpack. After handing it to her, he rezipped the canvas bag and surveyed the area while Sun pretended not to be flustered by his nearness.

  “Any thoughts on how to get her up?” Quincy asked as he rappelled to the girl’s other side and helped Sun cover her with the blanket.

  “It would be easier to go down,” Levi said.

  Sun looked over her shoulder and followed his line of sight. “I agree. There.” She gestured toward a small clearing, the frigid waters of the Gallinas River trickling beside it. “We can call in a helicopter.”

  “This isn’t going to be easy either way,” Quince said, taking in the distance. They were halfway up the incline, about a hundred feet before hitting the floor.

  “I’m game if you are,” Levi said, a challenge settling on his face. A gorgeous challenge. A provocative one.

  Sun was so hyperaware of every aspect of Levi Ravinder—his nearness, the heat wafting off him, the darkness lying just beneath the glint of humor in his eyes—it was a wonder she could think straight at all.

  Quincy shrugged, rising nonchalantly to the challenge, and began preparations by tying a second rope onto his first. She loved these two men so much. One like a brother. The other not even remotely brotherly like. Unless one were into that sort of thing.

  “Sunshine,” Drew said, his graveness slingshotting her attention back to him.

  She leaned in and asked softly, “What is it?”

  He cleared his throat, glanced at her cohorts, then said softly, “I—I touched her.”

  Normally in a situation like that, warning bells would have been ringing off every corner of her brain, but she’d known Drew a long time. Apparently since the day she was born.

  “She was … exposed.” He shifted, unable to look Sun in the eye. “I—I moved her bra a bit. You know, to cover her.”

  Sun nodded and put her free hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ll tell forensics when we get her to the hospital. You might have to give them a DNA sample to rule yours out.”

  His gaze shot to hers. “Absolutely. Anything you need, Sunny.”

  “Did you move these leaves on top of her?”

  “No, ma’am. Those were like that when I got here. I wanted to take off my coveralls and put them on her, but I didn’t think I could get them off without tumbling down this damn mountain, probably breaking my neck in the process. And I wasn’t sure I should move her.”

  Sun reached over and brushed a strand of the girl’s purple hair aside. The right half of her face was the most swollen, her eye a mere slit in a sea of blue-and-yellow puffiness, which meant her assailant was a lefty. Her lips didn’t fare much better. A vertical crack split the right corner of her lips. And her small nose sat crooked on what promised to have been a beautiful face. But with all the swelling and bruises, even with the girl’s light skin tone, Sun couldn’t be certain of her ethnicity.

  She turned back to him. “You were right to leave her as you found her and call us. We don’t know the extent of her injuries. I’d bet my last nickel that you saved her life.”

  He acknowledged her praise with a stoic nod, then returned his gaze to the girl. “Poor little thing. She’s just a kid.”

  “I think your initial assessment of late teens or very early twenty-something was correct.”

  “Who would do this?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll damned sure find out.” Sun squeezed his arm reassuringly, then reached for the mic on her shoulder. “Salazar, we need a neck brace, a stretcher, and a helicopter. We’re taking her down.”

  “I agree, boss. That seems like the least dangerous route and the canyon walls are plenty wide for a chopper.”

  “Roger that.” She heard Salazar call out for a stretcher as she studied her team. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Nothing worth it ever is,” Quincy said.

  4

  If your coffee was so dark a demon mistook it

  for a portal to hell, you will need three things:

  a new mug, a mop, and an exorcism.

  —SIGN AT CAFFEINE-WAH

  Auri couldn’t hear anything else after Quincy took his phone off speaker. And he’d walked off the porch after spotting her. Even his side of the conversation had been muffled. He’d ended the call, threw his truck into gear, and took off, tearing out of his drive with lights blazing before Auri could ask him anything.

  Cruz brought her back to school in his late father’s red Dodge. They’d pulled up just as first period was ending, so Auri wouldn’t have to enter a classroom late without an excuse.

  She looked over at him.

  “Why would that girl say that about my mom?”

  “I don’t know.” He got out and went around the other side to open the door for her. How many guys did that nowadays?

  “Who would be afraid of my mom?” she asked when he opened the door. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know. I’m a little afraid of your mom.”

  “Yeah, in a mom way. Not in a sheriff way.”

  “I’m not sure I see the distinction.”

  “Well, there is one. A big one.”

  He held out his arms as though to help her down. It was quite a leap, but she slapped his hands away. “That’s just what we need. For you to rip your stitches helping me down.”

  He chuckled and helped her anyway despite her protests.

  She fell against him, her body sliding over his until her toes touched the ground. It was startlingly nice, and she gazed up at him like a lovesick puppy. Again. Apparently, she did that a lot. Too often, most likely. She recovered and stepped back. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to drive in your condition.”

  He closed the door behind her. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to skip school in any condition.”

  Touché.

  “Hey, Cruz.”

  A group of kids spotted them and walked over.

  “You back?” a boy named Fernando asked.

  “No. The doctors are making me stay home the rest of the week.”

  “What?” A pretty girl with thick black hair sulked gorgeously. “What about the field trip?”

  Cruz shrugged an apology as the other kids greeted him by clasping hands and leaning in to softly bump shoulders.

  Auri probably should’ve been jealous at all the attention, but she wasn’t. Not in the least. To say that Cruz was well-liked would be a massive understatement. Popularity had been thrust upon him. Along with greatness. And hotness. A whole lot of hotness. But he didn’t seem to care. Had never seemed to care.

  It fascinated Auri, and she had been contemplating that very thing when something Mr. Essary had said over the phone call with Quincy tugged her thoughts in a different direction. A teen girl? Maybe early twenties? A thought hit her. Before she could be certain, though, she had to find her archnemesis, Lynelle Amaia.

  “Okay, well bye!” She tiptoed to press her lips to his cheek.

  He bent obligingly and gave her a crooked smile.

  She stopped for half a second to admire it before snapping back to the present. She had stuff to do. “Get some rest,” she said before whirling around to hunt down Lynelle.

  She was stopped dead in her tracks, however, when Cruz barked a sharp, “Vicram!”

  She froze. Time stood still as she turned on her heels toward him, mortification exploding inside her. The sea of kids that had been hurrying to class around them stopped mid-journey as well. They looked at Cruz, then at her, then back again before parting obligingly so she could have a clear view of her opponent.

  And what a view it was. Suspicion narrowed his eyes. Knitted his brow. Thinned his lips. He recrossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  She shrugged in question, the sharp action conveying just how mortified she was.

  Then a dimple appeared on one corner of his mouth. “Where are you going?” he asked, his tone suddenly as pure and innocent as the freshly driven snow.

  The sea of heads that had swiveled toward him swiveled back again, waiting for her response.

  She offered a tight smile and said from between clenched teeth, “I’m going to class.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  How could he possibly know that? She blinked and raised her chin a visible notch. “I most certainly am.”

  “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “That look.” He drew a circle in the air indicating her … look. “The one you’re wearing right now.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking him with a huff of indignation. “I’m not wearing anything.”

  “You weren’t wearing anything in my dreams last night.”

  While the kids around them snorted at his confession, a shot of electricity rushed through Auri’s body, making her skin tingle.

  “But here in the present,” he added, lowering his head to study her from underneath his lashes, “you are most definitely wearing a look.”

  The other kids started scattering since the tardy bell was about to ring. Judging by their expressions, they did so reluctantly, still hoping for an argument to gossip about later.

  Once they were alone, Auri walked back to Cruz, trying to ignore the warmth stirring in her abdomen. “Cruz De los Santos, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.” It was like he didn’t trust her at all. The nerve. “What are you up to?”

  “I just remembered something about Lynelle.”

  “And that would be?”

  The bell rang a split second later, dashing her dreams of forgoing a trip to the office for a tardy slip.

  Giving up, she dropped her backpack on the ground and leaned against his truck. “I was in the bathroom the other day with Lynelle and her minions. I mean, they didn’t know I was in there. I was in a stall, but she was saying something about how her cousin, a freshman at UNM, was supposed to come stay with her after her last final on Thursday but she never showed up.”

  “Really? Did they call her parents?”

  “I don’t know, but Bonnie reminded Lynelle about what a spaz her cousin is. How she was always changing her plans last minute and canceling on them. Lynelle agreed and dropped it. But she’s the right age, Cruz.”

  “The right age for?”

  “The girl in the canyon. The one Mr. Essary found.”

  He leaned against his truck, too. “Holy shit, you think it’s her?”

  “I don’t know. I was going to ask Lynelle if her cousin ever showed up.”

  “She’s not at school today.”

  A-a-a-and, there it was. That spark of jealousy that occasionally managed to wriggle its way into her skull. Right beneath her submissive hemoglobin. “How do you know?”

  “She posted something on Snapchat.”

  “Oh? You’re friends with Lynelle on Snapchat?”

  He grinned. “I’m friends with lots of people on Snapchat. She stayed home with a sick friend.”

  “Ah,” she said, bouncing back into investigative mode. “Maybe it’s her cousin. Maybe that’s why she was so late.” She grabbed her backpack and took out her phone.

  “Maybe. Who you calling?”

  “My mom.” She hit the CALL button but got her automated message. “Dang it. It’s not going through. She must be at the canyon already. I wonder if—”

  An urgent whisper interrupted her mid-sentence, echoing off the buildings around them. “Auri!”

  She looked around for the speaker and saw a piece of notebook paper flying frantically from an open classroom window. She tilted her head for a better view.

  “Auri, run!” the speaker said, her whisper not unlike the mating call of a screech owl.

  She pushed off the truck and straightened. “Sybil?”

  “Run! Coach Love spotted you. He’s…” The hand disappeared just as Coach Love cornered the building and walked toward them.

  Auri hitched her backpack over a shoulder and prepared to run, but the coach was way faster than he looked. He was on them in three strides. There was no escape now. She looked over and saw Sybil’s head half out of the window, craning her neck for a better view, and tried not to giggle despite her dire circumstances.

  “Ms. Vicram,” the coach said as he came to a stop in front of them. “Mr. De los Santos.”

  “Coach,” they replied in unison.

  “I haven’t seen you since everything happened, Cruz. I just … I wanted to…” He lowered his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m very sorry about your father.”

  “Oh.” Cruz cast Auri a surprised glance before turning back to him. “Thanks, Coach.”

  The coach reached out his hand and took Cruz’s in a firm shake. “And, despite everything you’ve been through, I hope you’ll stay in Del Sol. The football team won’t be the same without you, son.”

  Auri had heard Cruz was quite the quarterback and destined to be first string for varsity next year even though he would only be a sophomore. Having started at Del Sol High after the winter break, she’d missed the entire season.

  “And, well, I hope you’ll consider us part of your family.” When Cruz hesitated, he quickly added, “No one can replace your dad, of course. I’m not suggesting that. Just, you know, like long-lost aunts and uncles and cousins and such. Either way, we’re here if you need anything.”

  “I second that.”

  They turned to see Principal Jacobs come out of the front offices. Auri tried not to groan. He was super tight with her mom. Called her Little Miss Sunshine, which was horrifying on so many levels.

  “Anything you need, Cruz,” the principal said, “just call my cell.”

  Cruz had the principal’s contact info? “Hey, Mr. Jacobs,” Auri said a little too perkily.

  “Auri,” he replied, swinging his attention her way. Slowly. Purposefully. “Is there a reason you’re not in class?”

  “It’s my fault, Mr. Jacobs.” Cruz grabbed his midsection and only then did Auri see the spots of blood on the front of his white T-shirt.

  “Cruz!” She knew it. Helping her down had been a bad idea.

  “I asked her to come out here. I think I ripped my stitches.”

  “Oh, son,” Mr. Jacobs said, lunging forward, clearly shaken. “Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Cruz put an arm around Auri’s shoulders, cast her a single, conspiratorial wink, and made a show of limping inside the building.

  She could have kissed him for saving her. Or punched him for ripping his stitches. It was a fine line.

  * * *

  Not thirty seconds after Sun had asked her newest deputy for a neck brace and stretcher from the ambulance that had shown up, Rojas was lowering the requested items over the guardrail, clearly two steps ahead of her. They went to work, first securing their Jane Doe’s neck, then easing her onto the stretcher while balancing their own weight against the sharp incline.

  There would be time later to assess girl’s wounds. She had deep gashes on her abdomen and thighs. None were bleeding or seemed life-threatening at the moment, but the fact that they’d clearly been put there on purpose—almost painstakingly so—was troublesome.

  Rojas came over the radio. “Tie the rope onto the head of the stretcher, boss.”

  Another of her deputies, Azaria Bell—aka, Zee—came on the radio. “We don’t have any more anchors, boss, but Rojas and I will keep her from getting away from you.”

  Sun glanced up to see Del Sol County’s official sniper peering down at them from over the guardrail. Rojas looked on from beside her, a place he liked to be. He’d been pining over the woman for weeks. Sun could hardly blame him. The dark-skinned beauty had mad skills and could pad her résumé with accolades like a stellar military service record, two years with Albuquerque PD, and multiple competition wins. She’d been with the APD SWAT team when Sun lured her away with promises of slow, stress-free days and high pay, neither of which she actually delivered on. Yet there Zee was. Watching over her from above. Thankfully it wasn’t through a scope. Sun didn’t miss the fact that Rojas stole glances at the sniper every few seconds.

  “Thanks, Zee,” she said into her mic. She took a deep breath and returned her attention to Quince and Levi. “Are we ready?”

  They both nodded, Quincy studying their path and Levi tying the rope onto the head end of the stretcher before checking Sun’s harness yet again. He tugged at her ties and tested the knots at her carabiner while Sun tried to ignore what his ministrations were doing to her insides. And not just the lower parts, either. Her chest tightened with his attention to detail on her behalf.

  “What can I do?” Drew asked.

  Sun considered where best to use him. “Maybe go ahead of us. If we lose control…”

  “Got it.” He started down the mountain and barely managed to stop when he hit a particularly slippery spot, the moisture beneath the leaves proving hazardous.

  “Take hold of my rope if you need to, Drew.”

  “Will do.”

  Once he had a strong foothold, Levi and Quince nodded to each other and started down as Sun took hold of the stretcher, hoping to bear some of the weight.

  Drew tried to help keep it steady, but he ended up sliding down the incline with almost every step. If not for the rappelling gear, Sun would’ve done the same. As Rojas and Zee fed them rope, they slowly picked their way down the steep incline. Which didn’t look that steep from up top. She’d never look at the Sangre de Cristos the same way again.