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He went back into the living room. The schoolteacher also liked art. Several oil paintings depicting life on the rez were hung on the walls. As he stepped closer to the largest one over the couch, he saw the signature-Nancy Seles. There was that last name again. He just couldn’t put his finger on it…something about a mother-daughter combination…

After a few minutes of looking at the paintings in the narrow hall, he heard her turn on the shower. Moving as silently as Wind, he went to the next doorway and entered her bedroom. The bathroom door across the bedroom was shut, and he heard the sound of a plastic bottle falling in the shower.

Continuing to look around he realized that the woman gave new meaning to the word orderly. The clothes in her closet were divided by color, and the four books on the nightstand were alphabetized by author name, not size.

Yet the feel in the parts of the house he’d seen so far was far from austere. The earth-tone colors, the design and placement of furniture and the layout in general combined to give it a comfortable, lived-in look.

Still trying to figure out who she was and why her name seemed so familiar, he went back into the den and sat in front of her desktop computer. It was on, in sleep mode. Familiar with the software, he took a quick look at the files. There were lesson plans, a grade book program with passwords, daily plans, travel plans, and menus for breakfast, dinner and weekends. Dana certainly wasn’t big on spontaneity.

He let the computer shift back into sleep mode, then returned to the living room. He was certain he was missing a vital clue. Before he could give it much thought, his cell phone rang. A second later he heard his brother’s voice.

“Get me up to speed,” Hunter said.

Ranger had no doubt his brother had learned of Hastiin Sani’s death within minutes of the police’s arrival on the scene. Ranger filled in some of the details for him. “Ignacio Trujillo’s out for blood and it’s personal.”

“Ignacio must have somehow discovered what the medicine man’s place was within our brotherhood. Maybe his brother passed that information along to him before we took him down.”

“It’s also likely Ignacio has plenty of contacts in this area, just like his brother did,” Ranger answered.

“What about the Anglo woman? Where does she fit in? Was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Women trust you, Wind. Get to the truth. The brotherhood is depending on you.”

“I won’t let them down.”

At that moment Dana came out into the living room. “Let who down?”

“I was just talking to family,” Ranger said. She looked completely different. Her wet, copper-colored hair was darker now, still a bit damp, and in those loose-fitting slacks and bare feet she looked smaller…and more vulnerable, somehow. He noticed her toenails were painted a soft pink. That seemed to fit her.

“Are you through with your appraisal?” she demanded with a tiny smile.

He flashed her a grin that had served him well in the past and, judging from her blush, it worked.

“I’ll be ready to go in just a few minutes,” she mumbled, crossing into the kitchen. “I need to get some shoes, then grab a purse.” She took out a glass from the cupboard and poured herself come orange juice from a glass container in the refrigerator. “I need energy,” she said. “Want one?”

“Yes, thanks.”

She left the carton on the counter. “You know where the glasses are, so help yourself. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He watched as she walked down the hall, glass in hand, then poured himself half a glass of the juice. The cupboard was as elaborately ordered as the rest of the house, and the refrigerator spotless. After finishing his drink, he placed his glass in the sink. On the wall was a framed sketch done on poster paper with colored markers. It looked like her house, and above it was one word-haven.

She came in just then. Seeing him standing there, looking at the sketch, she said, “One of the kids made that for me after I told her that I’d named my home Haven.” Seeing the questions on his face, she continued. “I can always relax and find some peace here no matter how crazy my day at school was,” she said, then in a somber tone, added, “I didn’t know what crazy really was.”

Her voice, so vulnerable and so soft, tore through him. He held out his arms, and she stepped into his embrace naturally. It had been a purely instinctive move for both of them.

She settled against him, taking the comfort his compassion gave her. The warmth between them soothed her broken heart and fed her soul.

The temptation to kiss her was almost overwhelming. The way she fit against him awakened something he’d never felt before, something he couldn’t quite define…and maybe didn’t want to. His grip tightened, and so did hers as she pulled herself closer.

Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back. Too much was at stake to confuse the issue with emotions. If she’d had anything to do with Hastiin Sani’s death, he’d see to it that she paid dearly for her betrayal.

“It hurts so much…losing him,” she said in an unsteady voice. She took a breath, then added, “I guess we better get going.”

As she gathered her things, he watched her. He’d never heard Hastiin Sani mention Dana Seles but, then again, Hastiin Sani had been the leader of the Brotherhood of Warriors and, as such, his superior. The bond between them hadn’t been rooted in friendship as much as brotherhood.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, picking up the bag with her clothes, then glancing over at him. “How come I looked as if I’d been through a war and you barely look mussed?”

He smiled. “Experience.”

Chapter Four

He drove her to the police station at Shiprock, and as soon as they stepped through the entrance doors, a tall, burly man in a dark gray suit hurried across the lobby to meet them.

“About time you got her here, Blueeyes,” he growled.

“You’re welcome, Agent Harris,” Ranger said.

To Dana, Harris seemed like a blur of compressed energy. He looked her over in one quick but thorough glance, then gestured for her to follow him. “There’s an empty office down the hall, Ms. Seles,” he said. “You and I need a few moments to talk privately.”

As she followed the neatly groomed, salt-and-pepperhaired man, she noted the way he paid attention to everything around him. His gaze darted continually from one place to another, and with the rooms all separated by glass panels, he didn’t miss much.

Once he sat down behind the desk in an office labeled deputy chief and waved her to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair, his expression changed. Harris was suddenly focused exclusively on her.

“Ms. Seles, I need you to tell me exactly what happened, beginning from the moment you left your classroom in the afternoon. Include everything you can remember up to the moment the tribal police appeared on the scene.”

It took almost an hour. She repeated her story, meticulously describing even the smallest of details. When Dana finished, his expression was one of admiration.

“I don’t get many witnesses with your memory,” he said. “Not even experienced law enforcement professionals. You certainly don’t miss much.”

“No, I don’t,” she answered with complete honesty. “Can you tell me if you’ve made any progress tracking down the killers yet?”

Harris straightened his turquoise silk tie-the only item of clothing that suggested the Southwest. “There’s a four-state manhunt underway for these perps, with patrols on every highway within a hundred miles. Ignacio Trujillo, the name you provided the officers, hasn’t been located yet. He’s not at any of the properties he owns or controls but we’ll find him. The tribal president has already contacted the Bureau demanding justice, which is one of the reasons I’m getting as much extra manpower as I need. Under these circumstances, I have no doubt that we’ll catch all the individuals responsible.”