“How?” Kayani’s tone rings with accusation. “Did you notice any other tracks? We are very careful to limit access to certain areas of the tribal park. If you’d been caught here, the penalties would have been stiff.”
“So, what now? Are you going to arrest me for trespassing
?”
Grudgingly, he does the “go on” motion again with the flashlight. As I turn to lead him deeper inside, I catch another whiff of scent. This comes from the right fork. It’s the unmistakable odor of men, hanging in the air the same way mine does.
“Where does that fork lead?” I pause to ask Kayani.
“It goes deeper into the mountain. Exits about a mile to the east. Comes out close to the hogan where you and Frey spent the night.”
Sarah must have told him. The subtle emphasis he puts on the words “spent the night” makes it obvious he’s stil not sure Frey and I are just friends.
As soon as we start out, he clicks on the flashlight. The powerful beam almost disorients me with its glare. I’d have done better without it, but he wouldn’t have. I let my eyes adjust and keep going.
I also listen. No tel tale beat of the drum today.
We come to the wal with the petroglyphs. Kayani lays a respectful hand against the rock. “My ancestors left these to mark their passing. It angers me to see them desecrated.”
“At least they weren’t taken from the cave,” I offer as some measure of consolation.
He doesn’t look consoled. He flashes the light on the ground. Nothing. But once again, I detect a scent. There have been men here. Not Sani and his two companions, I realize with a start. There is nothing of their scent that lingers.
I move back into the cave. I let my fingers trace the rock. Is there some kind of entrance to the chamber where I met with Sani? I close my eyes and let my sense of touch take over.
“What are you doing?” Kayani asks.
“Just wondering if there was another way out of this cave.”
“Not here. Why would you ask?”
I shrug in a noncommittal response.
“Do you think there might be another entrance?” He’s beside me, running his hands along the wal the same way I did. He feels nothing.
When our hands accidental y come in contact, he says,
“Your skin is like ice. Do you want my jacket?”
“No. Thanks. I’m fine.”
His eyes turn back to the wal. In the glare of the flashlight, an angry scowl shadow paints his face into a contorted grimace. “Nowhere to hide. No way of knowing how often they visit the place. Shit.”
First time I’ve heard a curse pass those stoic lips. “So what derewant to do?”
“What I’d like to do is find George and beat some answers out of him.”
I’m beginning to like Kayani more and more. For once, I’m not the one suggesting brute force to solve a problem.
“Does George work today?”
I may as wel have asked if mud tastes like taffy. He blinks at me. “What?”
“Does George work today?”
“I think so. Why?”
“What about his wife?”
“She works in the lodge gift shop.”
“Any kids?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Are there any kids at home?” I enunciate each word as if talking to a slow first grader.
Awareness blooms. “No. Are you suggesting a little breaking and entering?”
“Not if it’s going to get me arrested.”
He stares at me. “I can’t help.”
“Don’t expect you to.”
“You can do this?”
“Did Frey mention what I do in San Diego?”
A shake of the head.
“I’m a fugitive apprehension officer. I can pick any lock made.”
That sly look crosses his face. “Except maybe keypad locks, huh?”
So he noticed, did he? “How’d you know?”
“Heard the alarm. Since it shut off pretty quickly, I figured I didn’t need to come back. Were you planning to take the car for a joyride?”
“Just needed the GPS.”
“Right.” He starts to lead the way out of the cave. “No need to test your expertise. Nobody locks their doors around here.”
When we come to the fork, I once again pick up the scent of men — the same scent I detected in the cave. “I think you should watch the entryway near the hogan.”
“Why?”
How do I put this delicately? Because I picked up a scent?
Why not? “I smel — men. Walked here recently. I smel ed them in the cave, too.”
That brings a raised eyebrow. “You smelled them?”
I tap the side of my nose. “Exceptional olfactory powers.”
“That must be hel in a crowd.”
No kidding. Especial y the scent of menstrual blood in a hot room. I shrug.
Kayani’s response is to raise an eyebrow.
We trek our way back to the car. Kayani does radio ahead and asks for air patrols to keep a particular eye on the area near the hogan. He isn’t specific as to why he’s making the request, but with the recent revelation concerning fake artifacts, he doesn’t have to be. A suggestion that trespassers might have been spotted on private land is al it takes.
Once we’re in the car, I ask, “Are there other sites like this?”
“Several. I only hope this is the only one being defiled.”/font>
His use of words like “desecrate” and “defiled” makes me aware of how important protecting his heritage is to Kayani.
He doesn’t look at what’s being done as merely il egal, he looks at it as a personal attack.
Frey wil, too, if there’s a connection between George and the accident. Stil no clear-cut proof of that. If I can be alone with George for a few minutes, though, I’m pretty sure vampire can get him to connect the dots.
Her powers of persuasion are legendary.
CHAPTER 40
GEORGE LIVES IN A SIMPLE CLAPBOARD HOUSE
about five miles from Sarah. Like Sarah’s, there’s no landscaping to speak of, just a simple fence of low juniper that snakes around the property. Unlike Sarah’s, the paint is sun-blistered and peeling, a porch holds two rocking chairs and a battered couch that face out toward the yard. The house projects a feeling of neglect.
Kayani stops a half mile away and takes out a pair of binoculars. George’s tour bus is not in sight. Neither is any other vehicle.
Kayani holds the binoculars out to me. I take them for form’s sake, but I see everything I need to without them. I hand them back after a few seconds.
“What are you going to be looking for?” Kayani asks.
“Wel, I suppose it would be too much to hope for a workshop with a petroglyph assembly line.”
Kayani grunts.
“Pictures of the cave wal s, maybe? Paint? Whatever might connect him to the smugglers.” What I don’t add is that I also plan to be on the lookout for a blowgun. I wish I knew other signs of a skinwalker’s presence, but I’m not sure Kayani would be any more receptive to the idea that George practices curse magic than Frey is.
I climb out of the passenger seat, lean back in to ask, “Are you going to stay here?”
A weird expression passes over his face. A hint of humor mixed with a bit of concern and a healthy dose of knowing it’s “cover your ass” time. “I’l take a little drive. Better if you get caught for me to answer the cal legitimately instead of trying to explain why I happened to be lurking nearby.”
I ignore the “if you get caught” part. “Aren’t you supposed to be off this week?”
A shrug. “If we catch the counterfeiters, no one is going to care. Besides, I’m a cop. We’re on duty even when we’re not.”
I push the door shut. “Give me fifteen minutes. Won’t take longer to search a place that smal.”