Aimee Thurlo - Eagle's Last Stand

“Good morning, Rick. What can I do for you?” she asked, going up to him.

“I know the police have already interviewed you, Kim, but I’d like to discuss last night again. When do you take your next break?” he asked in a voice so low only she could hear.

She glanced at the clock. Angelina wasn’t in yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to take her fifteen minutes a little early, particularly since they had no customers at the moment.

“Now would be fine.”

She went to the coffeepot in the corner and offered him a cup. When he shook his head, she poured herself one. “I’ve been thinking of nothing else but the explosion. I barely slept last night, but I still haven’t been able to remember anything that might help the police.”

“Then shift your focus. Don’t think about the explosion. Concentrate on what happened earlier that evening.”

“Okay.” As she looked into his eyes she saw something there that made her hold her breath. The angry scar across his face spoke of life-and-death struggles, but his steady gaze shone with strength, courage and determination.

“Your brother Preston asked the hospital staff for permission to speak to Uncle Frank last night, but the doctors refused. They had to sedate him. He was so scared, waking up in the emergency room.”

“Did you get to talk to him at all?”

“For a bit. Uncle Frank told me he caught a glimpse of a big man wearing overalls, a blue ball cap and mirrored sunglasses right before he was hit on the back of the head. I should have asked him more, but all I could think of was how lucky we were. We’d all nearly died.” She stopped and looked up at him. “Does that make me sound like a coward?”

“It makes you sound human. When it counted, you stepped up. Your first thought was to find your uncle, then you did everything you could to get him out of danger. You worked to save a life, and did a lot more than was expected of you. In my book, that’s the definition of a hero.”

She shook her head and gave him a quick half smile. “Thanks, but no. There were no heroes there. We were all just people doing what we had to do.”

“It was a crazy time,” he said quietly.

“The person who did this took a huge risk. If my uncle hadn’t had the Cowboys game going full blast, he probably would have heard the guy sneak up behind him.”

Hearing the jingle at the front door, they both glanced in that direction and saw the security guard hold the door open for Angelina. “That’s my boss,” she said quietly. “She’s got a bad temper, so I better get back to work. We can meet later for lunch at the Desert Rose Café and talk some more if you want.”

Rick looked at Angelina and suddenly remembered meeting her before. Smiling, he went up to her. “Angelina Tso! I’m not sure if you remember me,” he said. “You got stuck in Copper Canyon after a hard rain several years ago after working with my father, and I towed you out to the highway.”

“I’m Angelina Curley now,” she said curtly.

“Weren’t you studying with Hosteen Silver to become a medicine woman?” Rick asked, using the Navajo equivalent of Mister that most of their tribe preferred. “Did you find another mentor after my foster father’s death?”

Her expression darkened, and Kim, who’d been watching the exchange, recognized the signs instantly.

“Kim, I’m paying you to work, so find something to do!” Angelina snapped. “And you,” she added, looking at Rick. “I’m warning you right now to stay out of my store. Neither you nor your family is welcome here. Hosteen Silver cheated me. He took my money and then wouldn’t let me come back for more instruction. He robbed me of my chance to become a Navajo healer, then tried to ruin my reputation.”

“There’s got to be more to the story. Integrity was more than a word to Hosteen Silver,” he said, biting back his anger. “Why don’t we talk about this in private?”

“I’m not saying another word to you. Fred, show Mr. Cloud out,” Angelina said, looking at the security guard.

“I know my foster father, and what you’re telling me isn’t something he’d do. Let’s talk and figure things out,” Rick insisted, taking a step closer to her and gesturing to the empty office behind them. “We can talk in private in there.”

“Keep your hands off me,” Angelina shouted at him.

“He didn’t—” Kim started, but in an instant everything went crazy.

As Fred rushed forward, squaring off in front of Rick, fists clenched, Kim squeezed in between them, facing the security guard.

“Fred, he didn’t touch her. Just calm down,” Kim urged, anxious to avoid a stupid confrontation.

“Do something, you fool,” Angelina yelled at Fred.

“Out of my way, Kim,” the security guard ordered.

“No. Just chill out, Fred, okay?”

“Throw him out, damn you!” Angelina screamed.

The guard grabbed Kim by the shoulders and pushed her aside. Kim stumbled and slammed her ribs against the edge of the counter. Groaning, she reached out with both hands and, getting a grip on the display case, managed not to fall.

Rick instantly grabbed the man by the belt and collar and hurled him facedown across the tiled floor.

Fred careened into a freestanding metal display filled with souvenirs and cheap Mexican pottery. The display rocked, sending a cascade of key chains, postcards and clay pots tumbling to the floor.

Angelina reached for the low shelf behind the front counter, brought out a revolver and pointed it directly at Rick. She was breathing hard, shaking and clearly out of control.

“No!” Kim lunged toward her boss, but Rick beat her to it.

In a blur he yanked the weapon from Angelina’s hand and looked over at the guard, who’d grabbed the display and managed to keep it from tipping over.

“Everyone, calm down! ” he ordered, opening the cylinder and dumping the bullets onto the floor before placing the revolver on the counter.

Kim froze in place. Even without a weapon, he still commanded the room. “I’m leaving now,” he said, holding out his hand, palm up, as a signal for Fred to stay put. “See you at lunch, Miss Nelson?” he asked softly. Assessing the situation with a steely gaze, he never turned his back until he was out of the shop.

As the door swung shut, Angelina, still shaking, turned to Fred, who was down on one knee picking up the scattered merchandise. “You’re my brother’s son so I gave you a chance, but you stink as a security guard. Turn in your gear and get out. You’re fired.” Then she turned to Kim. “And you—”

“Angelina, I didn’t do anything wrong this morning, and you know it.” She wasn’t going to take any abuse from the woman, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. If she could only manage to calm her down....

“He came to see you. ”

“All he wanted to do was follow up on last night,” Kim said, struggling to keep her voice low and controlled. “That explosion at the Brickhouse could have killed fifteen people. Most of us got lucky, but my uncle is in the hospital with a fractured skull. You must have seen the burned-out building and street barricades. We were lucky to get out alive.”

“You were hosting a dinner for the sons of Hosteen Silver. What did you expect? That bunch brings nothing but bad luck. Look what just happened here,” Angelina said, then shook her head. “Forget it. Get out. You’re fired.”

“I doubt Mr. Cloud will ever be coming back, so why let me go?” she insisted. If she ended up jobless, how would she be able to stay in school?

“I’m not interested in an employee who’s friends with my enemies. I know you’re having lunch with him,” she snapped. “I’ll mail your last paycheck. Now get out.”