Eddie glanced across the interior of the stolen pickup truck at a sleeping Russ. They’d pooled what little money they had and filled the tank with gas, all the while hoping nobody at the trading post on the outskirts of Sawmill would recognize them. They’d kept to the back roads as much as possible and had prayed they could make it to their destination without running into the law. Every Tribal police officer on the reservation was probably looking for them. Did the police have orders to bring them in dead or alive? Eddie wondered. Stupid assumption. He knew better. The police wouldn’t kill them—unless there was no other choice. Not unless Russ lost his cool and shot at the police.
Eddie cringed at the thought. Russ had found a rifle in the truck. And a box of ammunition. Somehow Eddie would feel safer if Russ didn’t have a weapon.
Russ woke with a start. When he opened his eyes he saw nothing unusual. Only the moonlit interior of the truck’s cab. So what had awakened him? Eddie sat with his head resting against the window, his mouth open as he breathed evenly in sleep. The only sounds were nighttime noises particular to the desert regions of the reservation. They were as safe as they could possibly be, considering the police were looking for them. He’d chosen this spot, off the road, hidden from the view of passersby, so that they could get a few hours of rest before going on to his uncle Jefferson’s home, in a remote area in Arizona.
If anyone could help them, his mother’s uncle would. Russ was counting on the old man to hide them out for as long as necessary. If he could get in touch with Jewel without tipping off the real killer, and she agreed to admit being with him and seeing who really killed Bobby, then he’d surrender to the police. But without Jewel to back up his story, there was no way he’d trust the law. In the meantime, he intended to do everything he could to protect himself and Eddie from the man who had killed Bobby and was sure to either come after them himself or send someone to hunt them down.
Russ imagined his mother was awfully upset. She hadn’t been well since his father’s death, and finding out that her son was wanted for questioning in a murder case was sure to be rough on her. If he could change what had happened, he would. But he and Eddie were in this mess up to their eyeballs. They had gotten themselves into a no-win situation. Correction—he had gotten them into a no-win situation.
He supposed he should have called Andi. Eddie had wanted to phone his parents. But what good would it have done? Andi and Mr. and Mrs. Whitehorn would have insisted they come home and turn themselves in to the police. He knew Andi loved him and wanted what was best for him, but sometimes she acted more like a parent than a big sister. He supposed that was because he didn’t have much parental guidance—not that he listened to his mother, anyway.
I’m not a bad kid, he told himself. I don’t mean to keep screwing up. It just seems that I’m always making the wrong decisions. But this time, I’ve done the smart thing. I’ve made sure that Eddie and I are safe. For the time being.
He promised himself that he wouldn’t let anything happen to his best friend. Eddie had stood by him time and again, when everyone else had turned against him. He owed Eddie a lot.
Russ glanced out the window, up at the half moon in the dark night sky. He wished he were home. He wouldn’t even mind listening to Andi come down hard on him for messing up so bad.
Joe didn’t realize that he’d fallen asleep in the chair until he heard the loud banging on his front door. Who the hell—? But before he even rose to his feet, he’d figured out who his uninvited guest was. Who else would it be?
Damn! What was he going to do with her? She was as tenacious as a bulldog with a bone. Getting rid of her would be just about impossible. All he needed to further complicate this already complicated situation was to be trapped with a woman who made his blood boil and thrust his libido into overdrive.
Joe swung open the door. There she stood. Tall, slender and gorgeous, a phony smile plastered on her pretty face.
“May I come in?” she asked, as pleasant and civil as if he’d sent her a handwritten invitation to visit.
“Do I have a choice?” Despite his annoyance, he just barely kept himself from grinning. As aggravating as she was, he couldn’t help admiring her spirit, her determination and her plain old stubbornness. Joe stepped aside to allow her entrance into his humble home.
Andi barged past him into the house, then waited just past the threshold while he closed and locked the door. “We need to get things settled tonight. As you can plainly see, I’m not going away. Where you go, I go. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me, short of killing me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Then let’s set down some ground rules.”
“By all means.” He waved his hand in a gesture of welcome. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” She plopped herself down on the brown corduroy sofa directly in front of the fireplace. “I hope you realize that I don’t relish spending time with you any more than you look forward to enduring my presence. But we have a common goal, don’t we? We both want to find Russ and Eddie. You have Eddie’s best interests at heart, just as I do Russ’s.”
Joe nodded, but he kept some distance between them as he looked at her. How was it possible that she’d grown more beautiful? More tempting? He hadn’t exactly been celibate the past five years, but he’d never met a woman he’d wanted more than he did Andi. Maybe if they had consummated their relationship, he wouldn’t be feeling this hunger right now. Could it be that the great unknown made her all the more alluring?
And what the hell was she doing wearing the bracelet that he’d given her? He had inherited several pieces of silver-and-turquoise jewelry from his mother, the granddaughter of Benjamin Greymountain, who had been a remarkable silversmith long before the Navajos were known for that specific craft. Joe had chosen the bracelet from his collection with great care, wanting something that would appeal to Andi and yet at the same time brand her as his own. Primitive emotions? Old-fashioned male possessiveness? Yes, he was guilty of both.
Her twenty-fifth birthday had been special. A night out with her father and Doli, then a private celebration, here at his home. They had come so close to making love that night. But Andi had called a halt, asking him to be patient, to give her more time. She wanted him, she’d said, but she also needed to be sure that their relationship had a future. Despite her Navajo blood, he and she had come from two different worlds, and she wasn’t sure they could ever reconcile the two. He had loved her all the more for being a woman to whom lovemaking meant a commitment.
“You aren’t saying anything.” Andi snapped her head around and glared at Joe. “Are we in agreement or not?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not quite sure what we’re supposed to be in agreement on.”
Andi huffed indignantly. “Weren’t you listening? I was proposing that you look after Eddie’s best interests and I do the same for Russ.”
Here we go, Joe thought. She was accusing him of laying all the blame on Russ again. Why was it that she couldn’t believe he cared about what happened to her brother? It was as if five years hadn’t been long enough for her to come to terms with her father’s death and Joe’s part in the tragedy. Would she never realize that Russell had had other options? He chose to commit suicide, to disgrace his family and leave them bereft.
“Sure. That’s easy enough,” Joe said in order to pacify her, then added, “but it would be a lot easier if we agreed that we both care about the boys and want what’s best for them. After all, it’s going to be hard enough spending time together, without the two of us being constantly at odds. If we trusted each other—”