Aimée Thurlo - Restless Wind

“Nice hit, but didn’t I tell you to stay in the cab?” Ranger demanded.

“I don’t always do what I’m told.”

Before he could respond, they heard the squeal of brakes from a vehicle close by. “Get in,” he said, gesturing toward the pickup. “That might be their backup.”

They were already in motion as Dana fumbled with her seat belt. They bounced back onto the highway in the oncoming lane, then Ranger did a one-eighty and drove back slowly in the opposite direction. Almost as an afterthought, he rolled his window down and turned on the radio, blaring out a country western tune.

“Why are we going, what, forty-five miles an hour with Brooks and Dunn blowing out the speakers?” she asked, nearly shouting to be heard over the music.

“They’ll expect us to hightail it to the rez-my turf-where I can hide easily. But I’d like to throw them a curveball. If the guys in the six-wheeler are conscious or their backups are still around, they won’t take a second look at a slow-moving vehicle coming from the opposite direction.”

“Yeah, with the radio blaring.” She sat up and shifted into her seat to look at him. “Not a bad tactic. So what’s next?”

Ranger gave an approving nod. He liked Dana. Instead of complaining about bruises, or the way things had gone down, she was going with the plan and was ready for the next round. “You have a lot of guts. This is far from what you’re used to, but you’re catching on fast.”

“I learned a long time ago that life has ups and downs, and survival means learning how to bounce back stronger than before.”

He’d heard the echo of painful memories that wound through her words, but that was only because he had a habit of really listening to people, and reading between the lines. Dana wasn’t asking for his sympathy. She was simply stating a fact.

“I work for Birdsong Enterprises. We’re going back to Farmington to switch vehicles,” he said, turning the radio off now that they were past the area where the confrontation had taken place. As they’d gone by, he’d noted with satisfaction that the six-wheeler hadn’t moved.

“Birdsong…the stock car racing family?” she asked.

He nodded, picking up speed to match the posted limit. “I work in their auto performance shop.”

“The Birdsongs will let you just borrow one of their cars?”

“Sure.” The Birdsong brothers weren’t full Navajo, but the tribe was one of their racing team sponsors. The Brotherhood of Warriors usually bought their modified pickups and cars from the Birdsongs, too. The brothers had learned not to ask questions, especially since the warriors’ financial backing came from the tribal president’s special fund.

Ranger reached for the cell phone and made a call. “Tony, this is Ranger. Hope I didn’t wake you up, buddy, but I need a new set of wheels ASAP. What’s available?”

“We’ve got that new model everyone in law enforcement is salivating for-and we’ve made some improvements on it, too. It’ll run circles around every bad guy on the road. And guess what, The Ringer just came out of the shop an hour ago, and she’s ready to roll.”

Ranger smiled. He’d driven the generic-looking pale blue sedan. It was disguised to look like something Granny might drive to her quilting group, complete with knitted baby shoes dangling from the rearview mirror. Yet it had a racing and handling setup that could beat most high-performance vehicles. It had started out as a joke, but once everyone at Birdsong had gotten involved, it had ended up being one of the fastest cars around. Everyone wanted a chance to get behind the wheel. The car was hot, and constantly being tweaked to raise the bar a little higher.

“It’s gotta be The Ringer. Can you meet me in the parking lot of the Terminal Café-West Side Mall? We’ll trade keys. You can take my truck.”

“I’ve always had my eye on that truck of yours. What do you say I keep your little jewel for the weekend?”

Ranger laughed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Any other way I can help?”

“No, I’ve got it covered. Thanks,” Ranger answered, keeping it vague.

Switching off the phone, Ranger glanced over at her. “I’m going to borrow one of Tony Birdsong’s best kept secrets.”

Dana didn’t press him for more details. As he headed back to Farmington, Ranger wondered about the woman next to him. What she lacked in training, she more than made up for in spirit. He found himself liking her more by the hour.

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Dana looked at her watch. “It’s two a.m.,” she said, yawning. “I’m tired, and I’m just not thinking straight anymore. I need some sleep. Can we go back to my place and get a few hours of sleep? I understand criminals don’t return to the scene of the crime.”

“Who gave you that lesson in crime fighting? Was it in your teacher’s manual?” he teased.

“I heard it on TV,” she answered, annoyed. “But it makes sense.”

“Not in this case. They wanted you badly enough to go after you at home, then on the road, despite the fact that you’re being protected. Never assume what the bad guys will or won’t do.” He glanced over at her. She was tired so her resistance would be low. Now was the ideal time to press her for answers.

“You’re a witness…maybe more.”

“More than what?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“You tell me. I’m on your side, Dana. You must have noticed that by now. Whatever it is you know, or are keeping secret, is making you a target. Tell me what it is. Then I can pull some strings and hide you somewhere, maybe out of state, until these guys are caught.”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m not going away. I’ve got business here.”

“Business?”

“Yeah. I’m a teacher in Shiprock.” Although she knew he was a good ally, she had a secret she’d vowed to protect. It would probably be better for her not to talk at all right now rather than risk any slipups. “I’m going to lay back for a few minutes. If I fall asleep and you need something, wake me.”

“I could use some company, too. Talk to me. I need to stay sharp.”

Dana was more convinced than ever that he wasn’t playing fair. Then again, nothing about this had been fair-not from the moment she and Hastiin Sani had been kidnapped.

“So we’ll talk, but don’t expect much,” she said, yawning.

“Tell me, how did you and our medicine man become friends?”

It appeared to be an innocent question, but she could practically feel the undercurrent there. “You already know how it was for me growing up. Back then, the medicine man was my unofficial guardian angel. He was always there for me, no matter what.”

“And you remained close friends all these years?”

She nodded. “He was one of my character references when I applied for my teaching job in Shiprock. Lately, he’d become very involved with some tribal consulting work so we hadn’t gotten together since the beginning of the school year. I was really happy to see him when he showed up at the parent/teacher conference I’d scheduled with his son and wife.” Her voice shook and she lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. “And you?” she finally added.

“I’ve known him for a very long time. He’s the man I’d always look to for answers.”

“Then you’ll miss him as much as I will,” she said with a soft sigh.

His face remained without expression for a moment, then his eyes softened and he nodded solemnly.

Though he hadn’t said much, she could feel his grief as clearly as she did her own. A very precious life had been lost. “I wish I were home right now, grading papers, and none of this had ever happened.”

“The pain will pass, and the papers will still be there for you when this is over.”