Redhawk's Heart, page 14
The deeper they went into the maze of old appliances, cars and salvaged parts, the more claustrophobic the pathways became. Casey felt her skin prickle as it always did when there was danger around.
She glanced up at Ashe and, with one look, knew he sensed it, too. “Anything or anyone could be hiding in all this junk,” she commented.
“Yeah, but my hunch paid off. There’s Fox’s car.”
“It’s in good condition,” Casey said as they approached it. She tried the passenger-side door, and it was unlocked. “There are no signs that the occupant met with violence, and there’s no damage or bloodstains on the inside.” She gestured downward. “What about the gum wrappers on the floorboards. Hers?”
“She chewed that brand. But why was it necessary to hide the car here, or anywhere?”
“Like I said before, I think she’s trying to stay alive. It’s not a kidnapping. It’s more like going to ground.”
Ashe looked around him. “We’ll leave the car right where it is in case she’s able to come back for it.”
Casey stood very still, listening, her skin prickling. “Something’s not right.”
“Yeah.” He remained close to her side, and his hand moved to rest on the butt of his pistol.
“Let’s head back,” she said. “That way,” she added, picking a path through two rows of junkers stacked three cars high. “It’s wider, and we’ll have more room to maneuver if we need it.”
As they approached the halfway point, Casey heard an ominous creaking noise.
Ashe instantly grabbed her hand and dived to one side just as two junked cars came crashing down. Dust and sand rose high into the air, followed by the rewed-up whine of a motorcycle.
The sound of the bike faded rapidly, and a deadly silence slowly descended over the area. Ashe stood, pistol in hand, and ran to the end of the row. Casey followed his lead, going in the opposite direction, hoping to catch sight of whoever was on the motorcycle.
As she emerged from the wreckage, she saw Tapahonso doing his best to hurry toward them. “Are you two okay?” he yelled out
“Yes, we’re fine,” Casey answered.
Tapahonso looked down the row at the two cars that had toppled off their pile. “How did that happen? I had to use a crane to stack them like that.”
They walked back to the fallen cars, and Ashe joined them. Together they studied the ground searching for footprints, but the ones they could make out were indistinct because of the packed soil.
“It’s possible that the cars shifted and toppled because the rains and erosion undermined the base of the stack,” Ashe said.
Casey heard the touch of skepticism in his voice, and noted a large, rust-covered pipe sitting behind the remaining car in the disturbed pile. It would have made a powerful crowbar. Ashe wasn’t buying this as an accident, and, in that, they agreed.
They looked around but the junkyard was vast and neither of them could say for sure from what direction the sound of the motorcycle had come. The search for bike tracks proved useless.
After saying goodbye to Tapahonso, they returned to Ashe’s vehicle.
“We’re getting closer to finding answers. That’s why someone wanted us out of the way,” he said, his voice distant and thoughtful. “I noticed you saw that pipe, too. It had deep scratches in it, and was curved just a little. It was used to pry the cars off-balance, I bet. Too bad its surface would make lifting fingerprints from it impossible.”
“Let’s go back to the station. Maybe something’s come in from my office. I asked for your foster father’s military records and for a full background check on Patrick Gordon. With luck, that information is here by now.”
When they arrived at the station, Casey went to the empty office she’d been using, while Ashe went to his desk. Ten minutes later, she opened the door and waved at him to come in.
“I’ve got a fax with pages from your foster father’s military records.” She placed the papers before him. “A lot of what’s in here is blacked out, classified. The rest doesn’t look too useful for our purposes. But I did find out that a clearance check was run on him after he left the military. Those missing years you were wondering about are no longer a mystery. Your dad was an investigator for the U.S. Attorney’s office in Phoenix.” Casey studied Ashe’s expression. At least this news didn’t pack the hammer blow the other revelations had.
“I wonder why he left that job to come here and start a school.”
“The job file has a comment from the U.S. Attorney saying that your father was discouraged by the cycle of putting criminals behind bars just to have them walking the streets again.”
Ashe nodded. “I can see how that would happen. He always said that what he loved most about running a school was that he was working toward the future, not just dealing with the problems of today.” He paused, then continued. “I remember how he always took time for the troublemakers and gave them special attention, too. I finally understand why.”
Suddenly a gunshot reverberated within the confines of the squad room, and they heard the sound of glass shattering. Ashe ducked and reached for his weapon as Casey pressed her back to the wall and peered out into the next room.
“It’s Gordon,” she whispered. “He’s holding the officers out there at gunpoint. A light fixture is broken, so I think his shot went into the ceiling.”
Ashe crept to the other side of the door. Gordon’s back was to them. If they acted now, they could take the gunman before the violence escalated any further. “Cover me. I’m going in.”
Chapter Eleven
Casey didn’t have time to stop him. She saw Ashe move noiselessly, trying to position himself near Gordon’s side, so he could get a clear line of fire. The problem was that any shot would carry an element of risk. If Ashe missed or the bullet passed through Gordon, another officer could be struck, as well.
“Drop it,” Ashe said, from behind the cover of a desk. “You don’t want to die, and I don’t want to shoot you.”
“No,” Gordon replied, glancing over to where Ashe was hiding, but not shifting his pistol away from the other officers. “You’re all after me. I’d rather die this way than spend my life in jail for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“You taught my niece, man,” Nakai said. “She wouldn’t have passed if you hadn’t tutored her. Nobody is after you. Put your weapon down.”
Gordon turned to look at Nakai, shifting his aim. “I did help your niece, and a lot of other kids, too, but I still got fired.”
Casey saw that Ashe was moving closer, now that Gordon had taken his eyes off him. Gordon was suicidal, but she intended to see to it that he didn’t die at the hands of an officer. Trusting Ashe’s police training and her own instincts, she grabbed a coffee cup from the desk and walked casually into the squad room. She was holding the cup up as if taking a sip, while keeping her weapon inconspicuously down below desk level in the other hand.
“Who set off the firecracker?” Casey asked.
Gordon spun around, but before he could draw a bead on Casey, Ashe lunged, grabbed the man’s weapon, and wrestled him to the floor. Several officers were instantly there to help, and Gordon was handcuffed within ten seconds.
“Good instincts, partner,” Casey said, holstering her pistol and setting the cup down on the closest desk.
“Next time don’t make me read your mind,” Ashc said, hauling Gordon to his feet.
As two officers led Gordon away, Ashe stepped up close to her. Casey felt the heat from his body envelop her. The passion that continued to draw them together sang to her now. She could sense him reaching out and then drawing back, as he struggled against what they both yearned for—the passion they didn’t dare to indulge.
Hearing Gordon’s ranting outside in the hall, Ashe cocked his head toward the door. “The guys here can take care of booking him. Do you want to let him cool off awhile before we try to question him?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ve got to tell you, though, any half-competent attorney will be filing a diminished-capacity defense. Gordon is suicidal.” They walked down the hall and out of the police building, keeping their voices low.
“In this case, I’d agree,” Ashe said. “My guess is he’ll be taken to a hospital for evaluation as soon as his lawyer gets the paperwork done, which will probably be in another day or so.”
“None of this disqualifies him as a suspect in our case, though,” Casey reminded. “It even strengthens the possibility. Unbalanced people do unbalanced things.”
Ashe nodded. “That’s true enough, but Gordon’s pistol was a .22 revolver—not the same type that was used at the other crime scenes. What I’d like to do now is go back and talk to Walker over at the Farmington Police Department. I can’t shake that feeling that he’s involved somehow,” Ashe said. “His service weapon is a nine-millimeter.”
“So is mine and yours and most of your fellow officers, as well. Could it be that you’re focusing on Walker because you don’t want to believe your captain or Officer Nakai could be involved in the crime? We could tie both of them to the case with a motive at least as strong as the Farmington cop’s.” She kept her tone soft.
It was a moment before he answered, but his voice came out clear and strong. “My captain, like you, knows more than he’s saying, but I’m not about to accuse him without stronger proof than that. And Nakai, I’d trust with my life.”
The second comment stung. The implication, though he hadn’t said it directly, was that she, like Todacheene, was unworthy of his full trust. Knowing he had reason to feel that way made it hurt all the more.
They had almost reached Ashe’s carryall when District Attorney Prescott came running up to them. “I just heard what happened. Is Gordon our killer, then?”
Casey found it difficult to hide her dislike for the man. “We’re still investigating. The only thing that we know for sure is that he showed up at the station, unannounced, then apparently came into the squad room waving a .22 revolver around and fired off a shot, shattering a light fixture. But none of that links him to the murders. For one thing, his firearm is not the same caliber as the murder weapon.”
“Couldn’t Gordon have another pistol, though?” Prescott asked. “Maybe he’s hidden it somewhere. I need evidence I can use to convict a killer, not set him free.”
“We’re working on it,” she said, and stepped into Ashe’s vehicle, closing the door behind her.
Ashe took her cue and slipped quickly behind the wheel.
“I know he’s officially on our side,” she said as they pulled away, “but he makes me nervous. I get the feeling that he’s going to foul up this case.”
“He’s annoying, but we’ll both have bigger problems in another day or so. You may find Prescott’s meddling a breeze to deal with in comparison.”
“What are you talking about?”
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “My brother will be here soon, and neither of us is going to be able to keep him out of this investigation. He’s going to be everywhere at once, looking for Fox.”
“I fully expect him to want to search for her, just as you’ve done. What’s so unique about that?”
“I’ll let you discover that for yourself, but I will tell you this—all of his life my brother has been in love with Fox. He’ll never admit it, but I know it because I know him. When a Redhawk gives his heart, it stays given, and nothing will stop him from doing whatever’s necessary to protect the woman he loves.”
The power of Ashe’s words laced their way around Casey’s heart, filling her with such an intense longing, she ached everywhere. She would have given anything to be able to tell him everything she knew, to assure him that she trusted him as both a cop and a man. But however much she wanted to, and truly believed it would be safe, Casey could not bring herself to violate the trust that had been placed in her.
Thanks to a government contact who’d made a discreet inquiry, she’d learned via fax that morning that Ashe had purchased his truck with cash. She wanted to look into Ashe’s bank records to see where the money had come from. She was certain that the answers she’d find there would finally settle her superior’s doubts. But there was no way she could get permission to search those bank records without a court order, and she didn’t have sufficient grounds to get one.
To simply ask him about the matter would be pointless, since she’d need more than his word to take to her supervisor. In fact, asking could do much more harm than good at this point. Ashe would never forget that the agency she worked for and her own investigation had branded him a suspect. She’d have no chance of keeping him as an ally, and the fact was, she desperately needed his help to investigate here on the Rez.
They arrived at the Farmington police station and parked in the visiting agencies’ space near the rear of the building. “I think we’ll have better luck if I use my official capacity to wring some answers out of Walker,” Casey said.
“That’s probably true.” Ashe threw the car door open, and waved to a young female officer who was heading toward a police cruiser. “Let me get some unofficial background for us first.”
Casey had to admit Ashe excelled at that. He had a gift for making friends, particularly of the opposite sex. As she saw the wide smile the attractive policewoman gave him, Casey felt her chest tighten. Soon she’d be gone, and Ashe would find more than one woman willing to occupy his time, his thoughts and his heart. An unbearable sadness filled her, choking the air out of her lungs as she forced herself to accept the inevitable.
“Hey, Ashe!” Casey heard the female officer’s greeting clearly, though she continued to hang back. “What brings you here?”
“Still trying to get a lead on Fox, Betty,” he responded.
The policewoman’s expression became somber. “I’m so sorry about everything that has happened. You know I’ll help any way I can.” She looked directly at Casey, letting her know her offer extended to her also.
“Tell me this much,” Ashe pressed, lowering his voice. “Do you think Walker knows anything about Fox’s whereabouts? He likes to brag, I know, and I was hoping you might have overheard something.”
Betty shook her head. “We work the same shift, but we don’t hang out together anymore. He spends a lot of time working on his cycles. You know he’s still with the motorcycle unit. He wouldn’t give that up for the world,” she said with a shrug.
“There is one thing,” she added as an afterthought. “Walker has always had a thing for Katrina. He and I went out together a few times, and on one occasion we had pizza and watched ‘Monday Night Football’ at his place. I spotted Fox’s high-school photo on his bookcase. He tried to pass it off as just a high-school memento, but it was in the center of the shelf. I think she was the first real love of his life.”
“Keep your eyes and ears open for us, Betty, okay?” Ashe asked.
“You know I will.”
As they headed inside the station, Casey nodded to Ashe. “Nice police work. Did you know that Walker felt that strongly about Fox?”
“I’m not as willing as Betty is to believe that the emotion he actually feels has anything to do with love.”
“Just remember that not everyone defines love in the same way,” Casey replied.
“Real love is easily defined. It’s the desire to put someone else ahead of yourself. Walker wouldn’t put anything ahead of his own wants and needs. To him, love is measured by what the other person can do for him. Fox would look real good on his arm.”
“I find love harder to define than you do,” Casey said quietly. “I’ll agree that it includes wanting to put the person you love ahead of everything else, but the world we live in determines to what extent we’re able to do that.”
Ashe shrugged, unwilling to debate the point. “I can tell you one thing—if Walker has anything to do with Fox’s disappearance, he may never get out of the hospital.”
She didn’t doubt that he’d want to punish Walker physically, but she also knew Ashe would do whatever was necessary to help Fox. He’d want the person responsible tried and jailed, but violence would be his last resort. Upholding the law meant everything to him. Casey knew that when the time came for her to put all her cards on the table, her only hope would be to appeal to him from that standpoint.
Casey flashed her badge and they were ushered into the watch commander’s office. Her official request to interview Walker was granted almost immediately.
Moments later, Walker and another officer came into the conference room where Casey and Ashe were waiting.
Walker looked directly at Ashe, then at Casey. “I’d like Officer Cooper present. I want a witness who can attest to everything that happened here today, should the need ever arise.”
“There are no charges against you,” Casey said. “This, is all routine.”
“So you won’t have a problem with my request, right?” Walker pressed.
Casey considered telling him about the tape recorder she had in her jacket pocket, but then nixed the idea. She wasn’t using it for this interview anyway. The legalities were complicated, and knowing she had it at all might make things even more difficult with Walker now. “Officer Cooper can stay, though I am surprised that you feel it necessary.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Let’s get started. I have reason to believe that you were following Katrina Johnson around on campus, waiting for her after classes, and so on.”
Walker nodded. “That’s true, but I wasn’t stalking her or anything like that. I would sometimes wait for her after class, that’s all. I think she was attracted to me, but she wouldn’t go out with me because she knew Ashe and Travis would be dead set against it. I wanted to overcome that reluctance of hers and figured persistence would pay off.”
Casey could sense Ashe tensing up, though she wasn’t looking at him. Without making an obvious point of it, she shifted her chair so she was sitting squarely between the two men. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?”
“I knew I had nothing to do with Katrina’s disappearance, or the death of her foster parents. Yet, had I come to you, I would have been placed on your suspect list. I wanted to avoid that.”
