She glanced at Ranger, lost in her own thoughts. Her one wish was that Ranger would choose to remain a part of her life even after the danger had passed. But wishes alone would never tame the wind.
Chapter Eighteen
Ranger parked toward the north end of the regional medical center in the city of Farmington. This was where Glint, a non-Navajo, had been transferred after being stabilized.
Focused on security, Ranger studied the area around them before turning off the engine. It was close to midnight and quiet at this late hour. There had been very little traffic, even on major streets. The powerful lights that illuminated the parking lot made for few shadows, and because it was long after visiting hours, most of the vehicles probably belonged to the staff.
Though he could see nothing out of the ordinary, something didn’t feel right. The skin at the back of his neck prickled, and he studied all the vehicles he could see, especially unmarked vans.
A strong breeze rose in the air, and a small whirlwind came to life just outside the truck, stirring up dust and leaves. As Dana started to open the door, he pulled her back. “That’s an ill wind and it brings bad luck. Wait until it passes.”
Dana nodded and sat back. The fact that she’d accepted what he’d said without question pleased him. She wasn’t Navajo, but she respected Navajo ways. A man could spend a lifetime looking for a woman like Dana-one who could understand what couldn’t be explained.
They left the truck moments later. His muscles tense, he stepped in front of her, and led the way quickly toward the closest entrance.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Stay on your guard. Something’s not right.”
Yards from the side door, Ranger heard running footsteps, and two men emerged from behind a row of parked cars to his left, cutting off their retreat. A third man suddenly stepped around the last car on the right, placing himself between them and the hospital doors.
Dana stopped abruptly, seeing the men closing in from all sides.
“Run for the door,” Ranger said, then rushed the man in their way, though his opponent was built like a human roadblock.
Unwilling to leave Ranger alone to fight three men, Dana turned and kicked one of the men coming up from behind. As she turned toward the other guy who was behind Ranger, she realized he was pulling out a handgun.
Ranger, busy fighting the big guy, had his back turned. Dana yelled out, warning Ranger as she dove for the pistol and knocked it out of the man’s hand. There was a loud pop as the weapon flew across the lane, sliding beneath a red car.
The man cursed, clutching his hand, and staggered back, looking for his weapon. Ranger hurled his opponent over his shoulder, slamming him into the pavement. Dana kicked the shins of the smaller man, the one she’d kicked first.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the third man, having given up on the pistol, trying to decide who to attack, her or Ranger. Then seeing the big man down, flat on his back, he suddenly bolted, along with his partner. Within seconds they were halfway across the parking lot, racing toward a shiny new pickup.
“Maybe they saw we were getting some help,” Dana said, and pointed. Agent Harris was running toward them, two security guards behind him.
As two of their assailants sped away, Ranger cursed, then quickly focused back on the third man, who was still on the pavement, moaning.
The downed man groaned in defeat as Harris and the two security guards teamed up to handcuff him, then hauled him to his feet.
“Do you recognize this guy?” Harris asked Dana, who shook her head after taking a closer look at the man’s blood-smeared face.
Harris looked at Ranger, who also shook his head. Immediately the agent read the man his rights and flashed his Bureau ID. “Do yourself a favor and don’t piss me off,” he growled after he’d finished. “What’s your name and who sent you?”
“Name’s Truman Ockerman,” he said, mumbling. “I was just here to rough up the Indian because he owes the wrong people a chunk of change,” he said, looking at Ranger.
“Wrong. Try again,” Ranger shot back.
“Who hired you?” Harris repeated.
“The two wimps who just ran off,” Truman grumbled. “I’m a pro wrestler, but I got hurt and that put me out of work for a while. Hey, I gotta eat just like everyone else.”
“I’m going to ask you this one last time. I want names. Who hired you?” Harris said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know. I met them at the Terminal Café barely an hour ago. They told me what they wanted, then paid me a hundred down in cash. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. We’d wait here until you two came to visit a sick friend, slap you around a bit, scare the woman, then toss you both into a trash bin.”
“What about the gunshot? That suggests the plan included more than a beating,” Harris snapped.
“They changed the plan at the last minute. I was supposed to clock this dude while they took the woman back to their pickup for who knows what. I’m no pervert, so I figured I’d just deck the guy, then split.”
“You’re involved in an attempted murder,” Ranger growled. “One of your buddies was about to shoot me when my partner stepped up and knocked away his pistol.” He glanced at Harris then added, “It slid beneath that red Chevy. There’s the brass from the round he got off,” Ranger added, pointing at the ejected shell casing on the pavement.
Dana looked at Ranger, her stomach in knots as she remembered. He’d made it sound so matter-of-fact but the truth was she’d been terrified she’d be seconds too late.
“Guns, shooting people. None of that was my idea. It’s the truth, I’m telling you,” Ockerman said as one of the security men led him away.
Harris bent down and aimed a penlight beneath the red car. “Looks like a thirty-two.” The agent pulled a latex glove from his jacket pocket, then picked up the shell casing and examined it closely. “You both still in one piece?”
Ranger looked at Dana, who nodded, then focused back on Harris, who was placing the spent cartridge into a small envelope.
“Anything from Glint so far?” Ranger asked.
“Nothing,” Harris said. “Let me collect the weapon, then we’ll go inside.”
Ranger stood beside Dana and gave her hand a squeeze while the agent retrieved the pistol and stowed it away.
“Your people haven’t made much headway, Agent Harris. So how about letting me take the lead once we’re in Glint’s room?” Dana asked, letting go of Ranger’s hand once they reached the hospital door.
Ranger rammed his hands in his pockets and shrugged when Harris glanced over at him. “If I were you, I’d let her have a shot. The lady’s got good instincts. She saved my butt tonight.”
“I’ve learned a lot these past few days, Agent Harris,” Dana said as they passed a nurses’ station. “You’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Go for it.” Harris nodded at the two guards standing by the closed door of Room 122, then led the way inside.
Xander Glint was a barrel-chested man with hairy arms, one of them hooked up to an IV, the other handcuffed to a bed rail. Despite the fact that he was propped up in bed, he was still defiant, and glared at them as they came through the doorway. When he saw Dana, he smiled, showing a missing tooth and a split lip just starting to heal.
“I just love this hospital-providing a woman of the evening to comfort me. Give us a half hour alone, okay, guys?” he said, leering at Dana. “And somebody close the door as you go.”
Ranger’s gaze slashed through him like razor blades. “You working to be unconscious again, loudmouth?”
Dana stepped in front of Ranger and moved closer to the bed, taking a good, long look at Glint’s face.