As recognition flickered, panic died. “Damn you, Youngblood.” She stalked toward him, half-tempted to snatch his gun out of its harness and use it on him. “What is it with you and locked doors? Do they represent some sort of challenge? You can’t pass one by without barging in?”
He’d risen at her approach, his mouth opened, but she never gave him a chance to respond. That first startled leap of fear had been elbowed aside by temper. “I can’t believe that rules governing civil behavior are so different here that it’s considered all right to break into someone else’s house whenever you damn well…”
He closed his hand over the finger she was jabbing into his chest. “Maybe we should continue this conversation after you get dressed.”
Delaney yanked away from his grasp but didn’t step back. “We’ll continue it now. What are you doing in my house again?”
“The door was unlocked…”
“The hell it was!” Her interruption had his eyes flaring but she ignored the warning sign and barreled on. “The screen door was latched. That’s an unspoken signal the occupant doesn’t want people just strolling in.” Her sarcastic tone had him tightening his lips.
“If you think that little hook and latch is going to keep anybody out, I guess you just found out otherwise, didn’t you? All I had to do was slip a credit card in there and flip it loose.”
His words incensed her further. “Normal people don’t go around doing that. What do I have to do to keep you from wandering in here at will? Put bars on the windows and retinal scans at the doors?”
Grimly, he ground out, “It isn’t me you should be worried about. I’m not the one who shot at you today, am I?”
It was her turn to be silenced. Fury receded, to be replaced by confusion. “How did you know about that?” When she’d called President Taos on her cell, she’d reported the incident to him, and he’d been noticeably upset, assuring her he’d take care of it. Delaney had assumed a police officer would be contacting her. It never occurred to her to expect Youngblood. She hadn’t thought a tribal police investigator would deal with routine calls.
When she said as much, Joe’s mouth twisted. “Apparently, you aren’t considered ‘routine.’ Taos wants this taken care of before it can become a full-blown incident, with political fallout that could cost him at the next election.”
It was impossible to miss the sarcasm in his tone. Pointedly, she looked from him to the now-unlatched front door. “I’d have preferred another officer.”
The verbal swipe was lost on him. He no longer seemed to be listening. She followed the direction of his gaze and noticed that the towel had loosened, draping lower across the top of her breasts. She was still covered decently, but the sight reminded her that she was naked but for the towel, hair wet and already probably settling into its usual obnoxious waves.
The realization had her taking a step back. She hated being at a disadvantage around him. Hated the fact that his slow perusal of her form had thousands of tiny little flames flickering to life beneath her skin. She wasn’t backing down, but she knew when to beat a strategic retreat. “You can explain later. I’m getting dressed.” She turned her back on him and walked quickly toward her bedroom.
Delaney thought she heard him mutter, “Good idea,” which only fanned the flames of awareness. He didn’t earn any points for somehow turning this around so that she was the one embarrassed in her own home.
She pulled on a pair of lightweight khaki capris and a green tank top and slid her feet into matching tennis shoes. Raking her hair into a quick knot, she secured it and in record time joined Joe once again in the living room. He was seated in one of the armchairs.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
He was a master of taking her by surprise. She may have deserved an apology, but she hadn’t expected to get it. By offering one so freely, he defused a fraction of her anger, which made her slightly uneasy. She took a stance behind the couch to face him, as he continued.
“I did knock. Stood out on the porch for about fifteen minutes, as a matter of fact. When pounding on the door didn’t get your attention I thought maybe something was wrong.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I was taking a shower.”
His eyes glinted. “I didn’t know that until I was inside, did I?”
She considered the excuse for a moment and then shook her head. “Flimsy, Youngblood. Very flimsy. I can’t imagine breaking into your house in a similar situation.”
He was beginning to look annoyed. Under the circumstances, she was glad. Any reaction from him was better than the implacable expression he usually wore. “Someone shot at you. It wasn’t unreasonable to consider, when you didn’t answer, that maybe that same someone had shown up to finish the job.”
She blinked. That was a little scenario she hadn’t thought of. Since her knees felt a little shaky, she leaned against the couch. “I think the shots were fired to scare me off. To get me away from the area I was exploring.”
“Might have been,” he agreed. “Or it could have been someone recognized you and took the opportunity to express displeasure at your being on the reservation. Did you see anyone?” When she shook her head, he pressed, “Did you notice any other vehicles? Evidence that people had been using the area?”
Although she shook her head again, he didn’t relent, leading her through the entire sequence of events with a thoroughness that wasn’t lost on her. “What about the pictures you took?”
“How do you know I was taking pictures?”
“Another logical assumption.” His voice was dry. “It’s what you do, right? And you said you’d wanted some shots of the cliffs. Maybe we’ll see something in one of them that will give us a clue to the identity of the shooter. Or the reason he wanted you out of there.”
“I haven’t downloaded the pictures yet. I’ve been sort of busy.”
He nodded. “Okay, we’ll deal with that later. In the meantime, there’s plenty of daylight left. Why don’t you take me back to where it happened.”
She stared at him, nonplussed. Although his words had been couched as a suggestion, she knew him well enough to know there had been an order hidden in there somewhere.
“I could loan you the map I used, if you promised to return it,” she said grudgingly. “You could go check it out…”
“No need,” he said, heading toward the door. “You’re coming with me. We’ll take my Jeep.”
Joe took his eyes off the road long enough to slide a look at the silent woman in the seat beside him. He’d had hostile witnesses more talkative.
Delaney’s reluctance to accompany him had been obvious. But he wasn’t going to set off on a possible wild-goose chase when she could just as easily direct him herself. Despite the map, she couldn’t describe where it had happened. She’d need landmarks to find the exact area again.
The sun was still bright. Heat waves shimmered off the highway. He reached up to the visor, slid his sunglasses out from their holder and put them on. He wasn’t thrilled about spending the next few hours in her company, either. Especially when it was all too easy to imagine her in the brief yellow towel that had left enough bared skin to have his hormones flickering to life.
His mouth thinned. Hormones were primitive things, unhindered by judgment or good sense. All his body’s response really meant was that it had been too long since he’d last gotten laid. It had been hard to summon interest, or much else, since Heather had taken off with Jonny.
But in one of life’s cruel little ironies, interest, and a lot more, was raised by this woman. She was the last type of female he’d ever consider getting involved with. She was another belagana, like his ex, and his failed marriage had taught him that non-Navajos could never understand the link he had to this place, to the land where his ancestors had lived.