The Soldier's Mission
With each word, tears brimmed in her eyes until one lone drop moved down her right cheek. Paco reached up and caught the tear, keeping his gaze locked on her. “I hope so. I think he’s got a concussion and he’ll need stitches for the gash on his head. I’ve made him comfortable and the paramedics are on the way. But it’ll take them a few minutes. Let me check you over.”
She tried to push away and stumbled, her face deadly pale. “I’m okay. I…Paco, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Paco hurried her to the tiny bathroom in the back and waited at the door, keeping watch on his grandfather while he paced. When she came out a few minutes later, her skin was whitewashed with shock and she held a damp paper towel to her mouth.
“Better?” he asked, guiding her to a chair.
“I think so.” She looked up at him, her eyes as blue as a desert sky at midnight. “I’ve never killed anyone before. Now I know how you must feel.”
That statement punctured Paco’s heart. How could such an innocent woman ever know or understand the way he felt? How could she be so brave, coming here to find him simply because she was worried about him? How could she get herself caught up in something that was probably of his making, put herself on the line like that for him, when she didn’t even know him?
Before he could speak, she touched a trembling hand toward his heart. “I know what you were searching for that night, Paco.”
Paco swallowed back the lump in his throat, the sound of distant sirens echoing inside his head right along with the rising echo of his pulse. She’d called him Paco. That meant she trusted him now, meant he’d allowed her to get that close already.
“What then?” he asked, unable to stay quiet, unable to comprehend this whole morning.
“You were looking for your heart. You wanted your soul back.” She cleared her throat, her delicate hand warm on his chest, her gaze full of understanding and redemption. “I read a poem once where there was this heart hunter. He was searching for his own heart. He wanted to feel that warmth in his soul again. You know, that warmth that comes from faith and love and grace. And forgiveness. And so do you, I think. That’s something we can all understand, something everyone longs for.”
Paco lifted away, his head down. Grandfather always said there were no coincidences in life. He believed the Father knew all and saw all. Had God seen Paco’s pain that night, the struggle for his soul, the struggle he’d battled through between the Bible he’d clutched and the bottle that was trying to clutch him, all night long and well into the early light?
Had God sent Laura to him?
“We have to get you out of here,” he said in response, his thoughts too raw and fresh to express right now. He didn’t know how to voice his thoughts, even on a good day. “They’ll want a statement. Let me do all the talking. If they do ask you questions, just answer as briefly as possible. And be completely honest.”
She dropped her hand away. “I have to tell them I shot that man.”
Missing her warmth and needing to protect her, Paco said, “We could tell them I did it.”
“No, I won’t lie to them. And you said to be honest. I shot him because he was trying to kill you. That’s the truth.”
Paco knew she was right. They couldn’t lie. But he had a very bad feeling about this whole situation. And he knew this wasn’t over. Someone had sent a killer here two different times this morning. And they would keep coming until they hit their target.
He headed to the door to show the paramedics where to go and to greet the two officers pulling up outside. Then he glanced back at Laura to make sure she was holding up.
She gave him a wobbly half smile, her eyes still moist. Then she pushed at her hair and straightened her clothes, her head lifting as her eyes met his again.
And Paco had to wonder who in the world would want to hurt this woman?
She’d come here to help him, but in doing so she might have put herself in danger. Then she’d somehow managed to shoot a man in order to save Paco, which meant she was stronger than she looked. But that also meant she was now Paco’s responsibility.
He had to get his grandfather to a safe place and he had to protect this woman no matter what. Maybe in the process, he just might find that heart she thought he was searching for.
Or lose it completely to the woman who’d come with such an unexpected determination into his life.
FOUR
Paco went into action after the ambulance and the sheriff’s deputies left. Good thing the deputies knew his grandfather and him well enough to access the situation and keep it under wraps for now.
“I have to call my brother.” Touching a finger to his phone, he waited, his eyes never leaving Laura. “Hey, Buddy. It’s me, Paco. There’s been a break-in at the café. Grandfather was hurt.”
“Hurt? Is he okay?”
His brother’s worried question filtered over the line.
“He’s unconscious. Got knocked on the head. Listen, they took him to the regional hospital near Jacob Lake. I have a situation here, so I need you to go to the hospital and call me with a report.”
“What kind of situation?”
Paco huffed a breath. “I can’t explain right now.” Then he said on an urgent whisper, “I’m on the job.”
His brother’s silence told Paco Buddy was processing this. His older brother would understand and take action. “Can you talk?”
“Negative.”
“Will you call me?”
“Yes. Just go to Wíago and stay with him. Call me when you hear anything from the doctors. Or I’ll call you when I get things straight here.”
“Got it. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
Paco turned toward Laura. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t explain. He had enough to think about without having to report every detail to her. Seeing the distress in her eyes, he gently lifted her up. “You’ll be okay. This has become official now.”
She followed him without protest. Getting an argument from her would have eased Paco’s mind even if he didn’t want to hear it. She might be going into shock and that was the last thing he needed right now.
“Do you think the sheriff believed us?” she asked.
“I mean, he didn’t take me away. I thought he’d take me into custody after I told him what I’d witnessed and what happened.” She didn’t finish, didn’t state the obvious.
Paco did a scan of the road and the desert, careful to shield her by keeping her behind him. “I explained things to the sheriff. Self-defense. He’s a good friend of my grandfather’s and for that reason he trusted me and he’ll keep a lid on this for as long as possible. We both gave a statement and we’ve been cleared for travel.”
“Cleared?”
He shoved her into his truck and closed the door. Once he was inside and feeling confident that they weren’t being watched, he turned to her. “CHAIM clearance. For your safety, you’re in my custody until we figure this out. The sheriff knows how to reach me if he needs to talk to us. We always alert the locals when we’re on a case.”
“Oh, of course.”
Paco didn’t like her quietness but he let it ride for now while he watched the long, flat road and did a couple of quick searches of the desert on either side. When they turned off the dusty lane to his trailer, he slowed the truck.
“I live there,” he explained, pointing to the tiny white home on wheels. “I need to get some equipment and then we’re going to your hotel room to check it out.”
“All right.” She studied the travel trailer, her gaze moving between the RV and his face. “That’s not very big.”
“I don’t need much space.” Except the emotional kind, he thought, refusing to elaborate out loud.
She went silent again.
“Stay right here while I get some things,” he told her. Then he handed her a loaded handgun he kept in the glove compartment, removing the safety before he handed it to her. “Use this if you have to.”
Before she could protest, Paco was out the door and running toward the trailer.
Laura sat staring down at the gun. She’s just shot and killed a man and now she was holding a gun. What had become of her life, of her plans to help Luke Martinez?
Paco.
The man frightened her as much as he intrigued her. He was all muscle and male, all mad and mysterious. Not the kind of man to whom she was attracted. No, she went more for the button-down, preppy type. But then, that type hadn’t exactly been working out for her lately, come to think of it. Her last boyfriend hadn’t taken their break-up very well. And why was she even thinking along those lines anyway? She’d come here on a mission of mercy, her faith intact, her concern real.
And now, in the span of less than two hours, she’d been shot at and she’d killed a man. And she still didn’t understand who these people wanted to kill—her or Paco.
She looked out across the Painted Desert toward the mountains. They looked misty and solid as they hunched in watercolor shades of orange and mauve like sleeping giants off in the distance, the saguaros and fan palms stark and scattered across the arid vastness.
Who was out there?
Laura felt a chill in spite of the rising heat. She had to get out of this truck. She didn’t want Luke to be alone. And she didn’t want to be alone. They should stick together. She opened the door and hurried around to the back of the tiny trailer, her gaze taking in the canvas covered tented porch, a small grill and one lonely scarred lawn chair.
He didn’t need much space.
Except the desolate emptiness of a desert.
What had she gotten herself into?
Paco whirled when he heard footfalls on the rickety steps, his gun trained on the door.
“I told you to stay in the truck,” he shouted, relief washing over him. Relief followed by remorse. Laura was standing with one foot inside the door and the other one lowered on the steps, her gun shaking in her tiny hand.
“I was worried about you,” she said, her gaze sweeping the cramped kitchen. Lowering the gun to the step, she asked, “Are you always this messy?”
“I didn’t do this, sweetheart,” he replied, disgust making him harsh as he looked over the ruin of his home. Someone had gone through ever nook and cranny, without regard for clothing, dishes or paperwork.
“Apparently, I had a visitor this morning.” He touched a hand to something on the counter. “And they left yet another one of your business cards.”
She stepped away. “What? But why?”
At least that shocked her out of her fear again. Good. She needed to clear her head because they were just getting started with this thing.
“Good question,” he replied as he strapped on knives and guns, tugging weapons in his boots and underneath his shirt. “Either you have a fan, or someone is stalking you.”
She looked up at him then, her eyes coloring to a deep blue. “Oh, no. No, it can’t be.”
She fell back and turned to sit on the metal step. Paco quickly slid out the door and hopped around her then turned to face her. “Talk to me, beautiful.”
Laura put her head down in her hands. “I dated a guy for a few months, a while back. On the surface, he was a successful nice guy who said all the right things. But after a few months, things got weird and I broke it off. He started harassing me and I had to take out a restraining order. But he stopped bothering me about a month ago.”
Paco leaned down, one hand reaching to lift her head up. “Define ‘weird.’”
“After we broke up, he’d still call me and text me all day and night. He got really angry when I didn’t call him right back. I got a funny feeling—instincts I guess. I told him to quit pestering me. He didn’t take that very well. When he turned violent, I knew I’d made a big mistake. I think he suffered from paranoid delusional disorder.”
“Did he hurt you? Hit you?”
She looked away. “He slapped me once.”
Paco couldn’t tolerate men who hit women. “And?”
“And I reminded him that we were over, he left a note on my apartment door, threatening me, calling me a tease.” She looked up at Paco. “I never teased him or led him on about anything. I thought we were having a friendly relationship that might turn into something else. It didn’t turn into anything but…creepy. I told him he needed help. I even offered to find him a therapist, since I certainly couldn’t deal with him.”
“You think this might be the guy?”
“I don’t know. He stopped calling me after I took out the restraining order. I live in a secure building with a doorman, so everyone watched out for me. I would have known if he’d come back there.”
“What’s his name?”
She looked at the phone he’d pulled out of his pocket.
“Alex Whitmyer. He came from a prominent family. He was handsome and a bit narcissistic, which I figured out a little too late. I’m still embarrassed about it. I’m supposed to help people like him, but I was too caught up in the relationship to see he was sick. And he was very good at hiding his real personality.”
Paco wondered about that. Wasn’t she supposed to be able to read people? Maybe not with her heart, but with her head. Had she cared about this guy? “I’ll put in a call to Kissie. She can check him out in addition to the father of that kid you mentioned, too.”
“Mr. Henner,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d put my money on Alex. He was just strange enough to go all ballistic and decide to teach me a lesson.”
“But you didn’t know our intruder. Why would he send other people to do the deed if he’s the one stalking you?”
“He certainly could hire someone to scare me, but then so could Mr. Henner. Maybe it wasn’t Alex after all.”
He made the call to Kissie, giving her Alex Whitmyer’s name. After explaining what had happened, he said, “Looks like I’m on a case, Kissie-girl.”
“Paco, you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Not you, too,” he replied, closing his eyes. “I told Warwick I was doing okay.”
“Well, he’s so happy he just wants everyone else to feel the same,” Kissie said through a chuckle. “Me, I think you find your strength when you need it the most.”
“Well, then, we’re about to test that theory,” Paco replied. “Look, about Alex Whitmyer.” He looked at the card. “He dated Laura Walton. Counselor. Works for CHAIM-approved clinic in Phoenix. Except right now, she’s with me. I’m sure you’ve been updated on the shooting here this morning since I had to get clearance from both the sheriff and CHAIM to move the client.”
“Heard all about it. We’ve got your back, Paco. And I’ve heard of Laura’s work at the Phoenix Rising Counseling Center. But how in the world did she wind up with you?”
“She thinks I need counseling for some strange reason.”
“I know Laura,” Kissie said. “We’ve met at some of the company get-togethers. Nice girl. And if anyone can help you, it’d be Laura. Do you need help?”
Paco grunted. “Why is everyone asking me that?”
“We care about you. What about the get-together at Eagle Rock. You gonna be there?”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” Paco replied. “Since when did CHAIM start having company functions anyway?”
“You’ve been out of the country too long, my child. We like to get together for some down time now and then. Good for the soul. And just FYI, this is a big to-do coming up next week at Eagle Rock. You know, to remember the fallen on Veteran’s Day and to celebrate Thanksgiving. You should come. It’s a mandatory callout.”
“I’m kinda busy here, Kissie. We’ll have to see about that.”
“Okay then, but you might want to read the memo. I’ll get right on this. You take care of my girl Laura, you hear.”
“I hear.”
He signed off then turned to Laura. “Kissie seems to think you’re a nice girl.”
“I am a nice girl,” she replied without skipping a beat. “And I’m still wondering how I managed to kill a man.”
He hated the tiny bit of little girl in her voice. She was way too nice to be sitting here in this old trailer, in the middle of the desert, with him of all people. She was the good girl who went to church and baked cookies for nursing home residents and planted petunias by the back door. The good girl who actually tried to help warped, scarred, tired souls.
He was the bad boy who shunned crowds, liked his solitude and really never let anyone get too close. He was the loner, the soldier, the warrior who’d fought the good fight and yet, had somehow managed to lose both his soul and his sanity in doing so. “How did you wind up here?” he asked her.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she reminded him.
He lifted her up, grabbed the gun she’d laid on the step and pulled her toward the truck. “Well, honey, that’s gonna have to wait. ’Cause whoever this is, they seem to be determined to either scare you or kill you. I just don’t get why they keep leaving your cards everywhere like a trail. They obviously want us to find these cards.”
She grabbed the tattered card out of his hand then gasped. “I didn’t notice this before but this isn’t my up dated business card, Luke. This looks like my old set of cards. I had them changed about two weeks ago. I added my website on the new ones.”
“Then where did these come from?”
“I threw them in the recycling bin at my apartment building.”
He steadied her hand to stare at the card. “So someone went through that bin and found them. How many did you have left?”
“About twenty-five or so. A little box—almost empty.”
“Just enough to spread the word.”
“And what is the word?”
“That’s the big question,” he replied. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“Do we have to report this to the police?”
“Not yet,” he said as he guided her to the truck. “We gave our report this morning about the break-in and the shooting. We might have to go in for more questioning once they identify the man who—”
“The man I killed,” she replied, her eyes going all misty. She turned away to stare out into the desert.
Paco didn’t press her. Sooner or later, she was going to fall apart and they both knew it. He dreaded it. He’d never been good around hysterical women. But this one was deserving of a little meltdown. He’d see her through it, because he wasn’t allowed to have any more meltdowns. He had a mission. And he was alone in this until he could figure out what was going on. He couldn’t abandon this innocent woman even if he did resent her being here.
“Let’s go,” he said, tugging her toward the truck.
She wiped her eyes and got in, the big truck making her look even more lost and tiny. Which only made Paco want to protect her even more.
He slipped behind the wheel, shaking his head as he brought the truck to life with a roar. This day had gone from bad to worse. And he had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. His grandfather was in the hospital, probably still in a coma. His brother would want answers. Paco wanted those same answers.
After calling his brother one more time to check on his grandfather, Paco glanced over at the woman huddled in the seat across from him and wondered if he could keep her safe and alive until he figured things out. He had to. He wouldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t be the last man standing again.
Not this time. Not with Laura Walton. She deserved better than that. Much better.
FIVE
They drove the twenty miles to her hotel near the foot of the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. By now it was midday and a lot warmer in spite of the late fall temperatures. Laura’s shirt was sticking to her back, chilling her as she cooled down.
Over the whirl of the faint air-conditioning in the old truck, Paco said, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll check you out of the hotel and find a safe place to stay for tonight. That way, if you were tracked to the hotel, they’ll know you’re gone. Or if they’ve been there, we might find some kind of lead.”
“Do you think someone already knows I’m staying there?” she said, glancing up at the stone front of the lobby entrance. This hotel had looked so serene when she’d arrived yesterday afternoon.
“Probably. And they probably couldn’t find a way to get to you before you left this morning. Or they wanted to get you in an isolated situation.”
“Which they did.”
“Yes. Two attempted hits in as many hours so I can almost guarantee more will follow.”
“I don’t know why I’m a target,” she said, grabbing the door handle. “I wish I could explain this.”
He held tightly to the steering wheel, his silence stretching like the long road they’d just traveled. “You might be right about it being aimed toward me. Maybe someone didn’t want you to talk to me for a reason.”
“Or maybe they wanted to kill both of us for a reason.”
“That’s what we need to find out,” he said as they left the truck and entered the hotel the back way. “Let’s check out your room, see if anything looks suspicious.”
“What if they’re waiting for me?”
“I’ll take care of that.” He walked her up the empty hallway without making a sound. “Just stay behind me.”
Laura wouldn’t argue with that. He had a way of going noiseless in and out of places. But then, he was trained to be invisible. Right now, however, he was a very visible presence in her life. And a blessed one, considering she knew nothing about espionage or spying or killing people. She only knew how to help those who did so try and pick up the pieces when things got to be too much.
Was Luke ready to go back into the fray?
Please, Lord, let him be ready. Not for my sake but for his. She had a gut feeling if he failed this time, it would put him over the edge. She also had a feeling he hadn’t talked to anyone much since he’d come home from the front. Shane Warwick had warned her Luke Martinez could be as quiet and stone-faced as a rock when he went into one of his dark moods.
She’d come here on a mission of her own, though. And she’d brought trouble to an already troubled man. So she prayed for guidance and mercy and protection for both of them. She wouldn’t abandon him now, no matter the danger.
But when Luke opened her hotel room door and she saw what someone had done to her room, Laura knew this was about more than a jilted boyfriend stalking her or a grieving father seeking revenge. The bedspread and pillows were tossed and scattered, the drawers and closets thrown open and her clothes strewn around the room.
And her laptop was missing.
“I didn’t bring it with me this morning,” she said. “I had my phone and I’d downloaded your file onto it. I didn’t bring the laptop in case I had to do some hiking. I thought it would be safer here than in the car.” She turned to Paco, grabbing his hand. “They have my files. Everything is on that laptop.”
“Explain everything.”
“Notes on my patients, my personal files, you name it. My life is on there.” She didn’t tell him that she’d saved some personal information about him on there, too. “It’s all encrypted and backed up on an external hard drive at my office, and I have a password, but still—”
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