Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

Caswell nodded.

"Then she's definitely working for him."

"So it would seem. But you saw the CNN story with her ex-husband. It seemed to be a little… odd."

Danner thought about it, going over that CNN interview in his mind. "Did Enright impress you as being intense, Caswell?"

"I didn't pay much attention."

"I did. Enright is very, very intense." And Danner had sensed something else in the detective that had struck an answering chord in him. "Was it the situation or is he a little unstable?"

Caswell waited.

"Either way we may be able to use him. If handled right, he may lead us to the Brady woman." Danner smiled. "And she may lead us to Marrok. I think we need to know a good deal more about Lester Enright."

"HERE WE ARE." WALT WASrapidly descending. "When do you want to be picked up?"

"Four hours. No longer."

"Good God, it's barren here," Devon said. The small jet plane was landing in the middle of a stretch of flat plateau of red earth. The area was dotted with cactus and skimpy patches of grass and surrounded by low foothills leading to huge, sun-baked bluffs bordering a deep canyon. "And I don't see any houses."

"There aren't any." Marrok jumped out of the plane, turned, and helped her down. "We had a shack on the reservation down below, but I was never there. I always came up here and stayed with Paco when I wasn't at the local bar. Sometimes I'd bring up one of the girls I picked up in town, and we'd screw our brains out."

"Where?"

"There's a cave." He started down the path. "Paco lived there. Though he never approved of my using his cave for carnal purposes."

"Wait." She was looking back at the Lab, who was still in the cockpit. "Aren't we taking Ned?"

"No. He never wants to come with me to the cave. He starts grieving when he's around anything that reminds him of Paco." He frowned. "I've got to do something about that."

"And who is Paco?"

"He was the Diyi , the shaman of the tribe. I told you, I was his apprentice. He took me on when I was twelve. It was considered a great honor by the elders of the tribe." He grimaced. "Not that Paco let me do much. He told me that the great spells were for the great shaman, and I was not going to be a great shaman for a long, long time. Perhaps never, unless I learned to curb my temper. I was allowed only to putter with his minor magic and brews. That was enough for me. It was better than staying in that filthy shack with a father who was shooting up every chance he got. Of course, the bureaucrats who managed the reservation called Paco a bizarre old faker."

"Was he?"

"Probably. I always told him they were right about him, but he only laughed. He knew I was a cynical little bastard and didn't believe in his 'magic.' I do know he was great with herbs and healing potions. Every now and then I saw him do something that made me wonder." He shrugged. "But most of the time I was either drunk or breathing smoke. He kept shaking his head and telling me I could be a great and wise leader if only I'd tame my soul. I didn't want to be great or wise if it meant staying down in the dirt and bowing my head. That was what the council was doing, that was what my father did until he finally killed himself with heroin. Instead, I liked playing with Paco's potions and spells and making up a few of my own. It pleased my sense of the dramatic."

"Slow down." She was having to hurry to match his stride. "Two hours ago I was afraid you were going into shock, and now I can barely keep up with you. How far is it? Do you need any help?"

"No, I told you I healed well." He raised his face to the sky. "Particularly in the sun. It sinks in and makes me strong."

"Vitamin D doesn't heal wounds."

"Then maybe it's my imagination." He smiled. "Or maybe I'm remembering all the times Paco told me that nature was the only real healer."

"No magic potions for that?"

"A couple, but he preferred to try sun and water first." He stopped and pointed up the bluff. "The cave's up there. Let me go up first and make sure that it's not been taken over by scorpions and rattlesnakes."

"Be my guest."

She watched him as he climbed the slope. Every step was imbued with sensuality, strength, and grace, and his dark hair shone in the strong sunlight. He was truly a magnificent specimen, and it was no wonder he'd had no problem getting those town girls to come up here. When he had spoken before about his wild youth, she had not been able to imagine it. But now she had experienced the boldness and impatience beneath that quiet control. She had caught a glimpse of that reckless boy.

Boy? No, she would bet that even during his youth he was totally male, totally adult. If he was wild, it would be with the full knowledge of his actions and ac cep tance of the consequences.

"Come ahead." Marrok was waving to her. "Not a rattler in sight." He disappeared into the cave.

But were there ghosts? she wondered as she started up the incline. Perhaps the ghost of Paco and the life that Marrok had lived before.

If there were spirits, there was nothing threatening about them, she thought as she entered the cave. It was a small area, no more than ten by twelve. There was a mattress covered by a dusty blanket in the corner. A red plastic ice chest was shoved against the wall, and three camping lanterns were scattered about the cave. "I expected to see-I don't know. Didn't you say your shaman friend once lived up here?"

"And you don't see any signs of him." He opened the chest and pulled out a sealed bottle of water and handed it to her. "This is all stuff I brought up after he died. But there wasn't much more than this when he was alive. He believed in living simply. He had a chest for his clothes and one for his potions. I gave him a hand-operated generator to charge the cell phone I bought him, and he tucked it in the corner over there. Most of the time he'd let it go dead, and I still couldn't get in touch with him. Every now and then he'd charge it up to call me and tell me that I was wasting my time, and I needed to come back so that he could continue teaching me. I never paid any attention to him, but it was good to hear his voice." His gaze wandered around the cave. "When he died, I burned everything belonging to him. Including his body."

"What?"

"It was Paco's wish." He opened a bottle for himself. "I did it all by myself. He didn't want anyone else attending. I scattered his ashes to the four winds."

"Wasn't that illegal?"

"Ask me if I care. I certainly didn't at the time." He was searching through a compartment in the ice chest and brought out a small vial. "And I probably wouldn't now." He uncapped the vial. "Come here. I need your help."

"Why?" She crossed the cave to stand in front of him. "And what is that stuff?"

"A medicine created by Paco and refined by me." He handed her the vial. "Take a few drops and rub it into the wound. It helps accelerate the production of blood cells."

She frowned. "I will not. I'm not about to administer a medicine that hasn't been approved by the FDA."

"Then I'll have to do it myself. It will just be awkward."

"Don't do it. I gave you penicillin on the helicopter. That should be fine."

"But slow. Too slow. I have to get over this fast." He took a few drops on his forefinger and rubbed it into the wound. He flinched. "I'd rather you'd done it. It stings, and having you touch me would have been a distraction. Oh, yes, definitely a distraction." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. "Come with me. If you refused me medication, you can at least give me company."

She stiffened. "I don't know what-"

"And you're jumping to conclusions." He added softly, "Seductive, interesting, erotic conclusions, but I know it's not the time. It may never be the time." He was heading for the cave entrance. "Certainly not on that dirty pallet. I just want sun on this wound. It seems to help the medicine to sink in. Or so Paco always told me."