Race to Rescue
He shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
She twiddled with her jacket zipper. “How is your father?”
“Not great. He’s in one of those retirement villages. Wanted him to stay on the ranch, but he insisted he’d be a bother.”
“I’m sorry.”
He picked up on a warmth in her voice, remembering how her visits in the spring had cheered his father tremendously. He knew Pops would approve of his helping Anita, in spite of their history. His father would never let a woman down. He’d been there through his wife’s illness, unflinchingly devoted, even when her mind was gone and she didn’t know who any of them were. Pops was a true gentleman, Booker knew, the kind of man he could only hope to be someday. The resolve crystallized inside him. He would help her, he would find Anita’s brother because it was the godly thing to do, and then he would walk away. He tuned back into the present.
“I’ll say a prayer for him,” Anita said haltingly.
Booker nodded. “Preciate that.”
They lapsed into silence as the miles rolled by, flatland dotted with mesquite and jimsonweed. The sky had lightened to a silver hue, silhouetting the distant mountains in sharp relief. Since the rain eased off, he rolled the window down a fraction to breathe in the scent of newly washed earth.
Rounding a sharp turn, he slowed the truck.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Road dips into a canyon up ahead. With a good rain there’s the potential for flash flooding.”
“It’s not even raining that hard right now.”
He glanced at the sky. “It will.”
“Booker, we’ve got to keep going. My brother is out there somewhere.”
He ignored the desperation in her voice. “Impatience gets you dead in this place.”
“You’ve got to listen to me. I…” Her words dropped off as the rain began to sheet and then to pound with a fury. It slammed into the truck so hard it bounced off again like tiny glittering bullets. Anita cried out at a crash of thunder.
Booker shot her a brief glance. “Don’t worry. It’ll stop in a minute or two.”
The roar faded to a hum and then a trickle, the storm easing up as fast as it started.
Booker was ready to start the truck when he frowned into the rearview mirror.
An SUV pulled in behind them with Border Patrol emblazoned on the side. A stocky, dark-haired man got out and edged to the driver’s side of Booker’s truck.
“Mr. Scott, it’s Agent Rogelio. You’ve got Anita Teel with you?”
Booker called out the open window. “Yes, sir.”
The agent leaned his head in. “Paul Gershwin told me you might be coming up here looking for your brother.”
Booker and Anita got out and followed Rogelio away from the road, to the rust-colored shoulder.
“I got your message,” Rogelio continued. “I was going to call you this afternoon.”
“Any word on Drew?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. I met your brother a few times, poking around with his camera.”
Anita’s voice cracked. “Really? When did you see him last?”
“Couple weeks ago. Headed out the same way you are.” Rogelio folded his arms across his wide chest. “I’ve got to be honest with you. I told your brother that he was an idiot.”
Booker saw Anita jerk backward a fraction at his angry tone. “That’s no way to talk to the man’s sister.”
“No disrespect intended, but my job’s intense. I go around with a target painted on my back. That’s my choice. But I don’t appreciate having to spend time and energy rescuing thrill seekers who get themselves in too deep, especially when they’ve been warned repeatedly.”
Booker cocked his head. “Drew’s doing a job, not sightseeing, and, anyway, what’s done is done. The guy’s missing, and his sister is worried. Isn’t her fault.”
Rogelio’s tone softened. “I’m just telling you that Border Patrol will assist in any way we can, when we’re not busting illegals and ducking gunfire from drug cartels. I’m going to give you the same advice I gave him. Go home.” He jerked a thumb at the road ahead. “Leave the searching up to law enforcement so we don’t have to bail you out of trouble, too.”
Rogelio got back into his SUV, pulled a sharp U-turn and peeled away.
Booker helped Anita back into the truck, feeling a slight tremble in her hand. “Not the nicest cop I ever met.”
She blinked. “Why is it everyone seems to think Drew deserves to be in trouble?”
He heard the tremor in her voice. “Not everyone. Like I said before, Drew is a good guy. I’ll help you if you want to go look for him. Rogelio’s right about one thing, though. It’s not safe.”
She was silent for a moment, examining her hands twisted together in her lap, knuckles white from the pressure. “Why would you go with me?”
He exhaled, recognizing he had just crossed a line that he couldn’t turn back from until the job was done. “Because it’s the right thing to do and if it was my brother, I’d sure drive through a war zone to find him.”
She gave him a watery smile and they continued down the road.
Booker cleared his throat. “We’ll only be able to take a quick look before sundown. We can come back tomorrow. Early.”
Her face looked vulnerable, like a little girl’s. “Thank you. I feel as though…as though I don’t have the right to ask you for anything.”
“I offered.”
She gave him a puzzled look as the satellite phone in her pocket rang, startling them both.
“It’s Sergeant Williams,” she whispered, when she checked the screen.
Anita held the phone between them so Booker could hear. “Have you found him?”
There was a pause. “Ms. Teel, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
FOUR
Anita’s body went cold. Booker took the phone from her shaking fingers and spoke quietly to the police officer.
His voice was soft. “It’s…not far from here. About three miles, off the highway. I’ll take you there.”
She couldn’t answer. Her mind was locked in a nightmare that she’d experienced before when her parents were killed. The phone call, the strange limbo sprinkled throughout with comments from doctors, bits of information from the police.
Drunk driver.
Both killed on impact.
Death was instantaneous.
Instantaneous. How could something that happened in one insane moment change the life of Anita and her brother so profoundly? And now, she was facing the same horror. Her brother, her only family.
The sensation of moisture on her hand made her realize she was crying. Booker handed her a box of tissue. “Anita…”
His voice trailed off as she raised a hand and shook her head. The sympathy in his deep voice would make her crack open into a million jagged pieces. She had to keep it together now, for Drew. He deserved that much from her.
The heat shimmered off the wet road as they pulled up to the accident site after following a lonely, twisted path that seemed to leave civilization far behind. She recognized the spot. She’d done work in a cave several miles from here, home to a colony of Mexican long-tongued bats. She could almost hear their distinctive high-pitched chitters.
If she hadn’t been so terrified, the scenery would have charmed her as it had on her previous visit; a vivid blue sky bisected by ornately furrowed cliffs and dotted with clouds. One corner of her mind noticed a hawk floating in lazy circles above them.
Sergeant Williams alternately took pictures and talked into her radio. There was another officer there whom Anita didn’t know, and a fire-rescue vehicle. Somehow she got out of the truck and made her way toward Williams.
“Ms. Teel. I’m very sorry.”
“Just tell me. What did you find?”
The officer wiped the sweat from her brow and pointed. “Down there. His motorcycle.”
Anita walked several yards away to the edge of a steep canyon. A jagged break in the guardrail framed the view below. The twisted remnants of Drew’s motorcycle lay broken and smashed several hundred feet down. She could see the helmeted firefighters milling around, the yellow ropes they’d used to descend bright against the brown cliff side.
“Did you find…?” Her voice broke and she tried again. “Did you find my brother?”
Williams shook her head. “No, ma’am. He may have been thrown from the bike. They’re looking for him now.”
Her heart swelled. “Then he may be alive.” She looked from Booker to Williams and saw the doubt on their faces. “But you don’t think so?”
“It would be unlikely, ma’am. That was a violent impact, and as far as we can tell the bike’s been there for a while.”
Anita felt the hope slide out of her. Her breath grew short, and her head began spinning. Booker took her by the arm and led her to the shade cast by the fire engine. He dried the metal bumper with his jacket sleeve and helped her sit.
“Take it easy. I’ve got some cold water in the truck.” He jogged away to return with an icy bottle.
While she took a few sips, Booker walked closer to the accident site. She watched him studying it, the brim of his baseball cap casting a shadow on his face. He spoke for a moment with the police before he returned to her.
“What is it? What are you thinking?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s hear what the rescue crew has to say.”
She was glad when he eased his tall frame down next to her. The feel of him seemed to steady her.
A car pulled up.
Paul Gershwin eased his wiry frame from the seat and hurried over to them. “Oh, man. I heard the call on the radio. Is he…? Have they found him?”
Anita’s eyes filled. “Not yet. His bike is down there, at the bottom.”
Gershwin gave her arm a squeeze and went to talk with the police. When he returned, his face was a shade paler. “I’m not sure what to say, Ms. Teel.”
“Please call me Anita.”
He looked at his dusty shoes. “I can’t believe that’s how it would end for Drew.”
“It hasn’t ended.” The words shot out of her like arrows. “He could be alive. They haven’t found any evidence to the contrary.”
His eyes widened. “Of course, of course. He’s such a character, so quick on his feet. If anyone could survive this, he could. Did they find his gear?”
She shook her head, not daring to look at him closely.
“Then there’s hope, right?”
She nodded miserably.
“There’s always hope. Look, I’ve got to get back to the magazine. I’ll be there for a couple of hours. Here’s my cell phone.” He handed her a business card. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Paul patted her back and left.
Gershwin thought her brother was dead. So did the police and firefighters and probably Booker. The ruined motorcycle added evidence to support the conclusion.
She could not agree with them.
Drew was alive. She believed it with every fiber in her being.
She had to.
An hour later Booker watched as the firefighters cleared the scene. Anita sat in his truck, her chin determinedly high, fingers laced together. The irony made him sigh. She’d only been in Arizona a little more than twenty-four hours, and her life was inextricably twined with his once again. It was like some sort of strange magnetic force that pulled them close until something flipped and they repelled each other.
What flipped was her, he reminded himself. He recalled the tenderness they’d shared, the sweet vulnerability that made him fall for her, hard. He knew she’d loved him; he could see it in every touch, every gesture. Then it was gone. She’d come out all teeth and claws to ruin his chance to save his father’s ranch and any shot they’d had at a future. Remember that, Booker. Help her get through this and put her back on a plane.
When Agent Rogelio pulled up at the scene, Booker felt his stomach tighten. He waited, watching Rogelio discuss the details with the local cops before his gaze slid over to where Booker stood. He surveyed the scene in a leisurely manner before he spoke, out of earshot of Anita.
“Too bad it turned out this way.”
Booker kept his face impassive. “Isn’t over until they find the body.”
Rogelio pulled his hat down lower to shade his eyes. “You know what kind of place this is. One mistake, one chance, is all you get. The desert takes no prisoners.”
Booker could not read the man’s eyes behind the shaded glasses. Should he share his suspicions about Drew’s accident? A twist of doubt caused him to keep quiet about it.
Aren’t you out on a limb enough where Rogelio’s concerned? “I’m going to take Anita back to her hotel.”
Rogelio stopped him. “We’re investigating some things about Drew Teel. Things that aren’t looking too good for him. Might want to prepare your gal for some bad news.”
“She’s not my gal.”
Rogelio stared at Anita, a hungry smile creeping across his face. “Good to know I’ve got a shot, then. I like them feisty.”
Booker’s jaw tightened. Don’t even try it, man. He held himself frozen to the spot until Rogelio left.
Shaking off the comment, Booker spoke again to Sergeant Williams, who promised to keep them apprised and assured Anita that a search-and-rescue crew would remain at the sight for the next twelve hours.
“I don’t feel right about leaving,” Anita announced, as he got in the truck next to her.
“They’ll call if there’s anything. We’re in the way here.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, brown eyes fiery. “No. My brother is down there somewhere and I’m staying right here. I’ll go find someplace else to sit if you don’t want me in your truck.”
Uncertainty shot through him. “It’s not that.”
She picked up on it right away. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Not nothing. You don’t think they’re going to find him alive.” Tears began to spill down her face. “How can you believe that? He’s all I have. He’s the only person in the whole world who…” She kept her face turned to him, the agony written plainly there.
He grabbed her hand to stop the anguished flow of words. “That’s not what’s on my mind, Anita. I’ve got a strange feeling, is all, but I don’t want to mislead you.”
Her mouth opened in a shocked gasp. “What? What do you think? Please tell me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she squeezed his fingers. “Please.”
He picked his words carefully. “Something’s wrong. This road.” He pulled his hand away to gesture to the desolate stretch. “It doesn’t lead to town or to the Painted Cliffs. There’s really no reason for Drew to be here. The spot where the bike went over. It’s not a sharp turn, wouldn’t have been a problem for an experienced biker to manage.”
She nodded. “And?”
“And there’s nothing in his saddlebags. No provisions, work stuff, camera, anything. No backpack found at the scene.” His eyes scanned the horizon. “Williams says it looks like the gas tank was empty.”
“So you think maybe the accident was staged? That Drew isn’t dead?” Hope sparkled in her eyes.
“Listen. I’m no cop. Just a gut feeling. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
“Too late, they’re up,” she said, flinging her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “Please help me figure out what happened to my brother. I know I’m the last person in the world you want to be with, but I’m asking, anyway. Please.”
The pressure of her body pressed to his made his head swim.
You’re in it deep now, Booker.
Anita let go of Booker and hastily slid to the other side of the seat. Her cheeks burned, but she could not ignore the heady feeling of hope that had sprung up inside her. Drew might be alive. Alive. She pressed her hands together and breathed a silent prayer. Please, Lord. Please don’t take my brother from me.
She opened her eyes to find Booker watching her. “We need to go to the Painted Cliffs.”
Booker arched an eyebrow. “What will that accomplish?”
“I don’t know, but my brother was headed there, according to Gershwin. He might have left some kind of a clue to his whereabouts, maybe spoken to someone about his situation.”
“There’s no one there to speak to. The police should handle the search.”
She tried to keep the impatience from her voice. “They’re busy with the crash investigation. Besides, my brother didn’t involve the police in whatever problem he was having. He must have had a reason.” She looked closely at him. “Do you trust the police around here?”
“Williams is okay.”
“How about Rogelio?”
Booker shifted on the worn seat. “He’s tight with Cyrus Leeman. I don’t trust anyone who buddies up to that snake.”
She jerked. “I wasn’t anyone’s buddy, if that’s what you’re implying. Leeman came to me on an environmental issue that happened to impact your land. I did my job, and so did he.”
“Yeah? So you think he’s just a great guy out to save the earth, huh?”
The anger in his eyes made her falter. “We did the right thing.”
“Glad you can sleep easy at night.”
Sleep easy? She’d not had a peaceful night’s rest since she left Rockridge. Thoughts of Booker and the dangerous feelings he’d awakened in her had made that impossible. She’d done the right thing, but the cost had been high. She looked at his profile: strong, proud, lined with fatigue and worry. What had her decision cost him?
She pushed the feelings away and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to focus on the here and now. I need to figure out what happened to my brother. Will you take me? If not, I’ll find someone else.”
He gazed at the brilliant blue of the sky. “It’ll take an hour to drive out there. Won’t have much time. We’ve got to head back before sunset.”
“What happens after sunset?”
He didn’t look at her as he pulled onto the road. “Desert comes alive.”
FIVE
Anita tried not to dwell on Booker’s ominous warning as they headed farther away from civilization. She was a wildlife scientist, after all. Nothing in this desert would send her screaming for help. She busied herself checking her phone for any kind of message from her brother. Who would be after him? His salary was good, she imagined, but knowing her brother he hadn’t socked away enough fortune to tempt anyone. At times he didn’t even make the rent payments. He must have heard something, seen something. Maybe he photographed something he shouldn’t have?
She wished she had someone to discuss her wild theories with, but Booker remained silent. It was just as well. They should avoid anything that would rekindle old feelings. Remember Jack and what could have happened. Drinking, partying, making stupid choices that would have ruined your life if God hadn’t saved you. Don’t put yourself there again.
A massive saguaro cactus thrust prickled branches into the late-afternoon sunlight. In the spring, it had been crowned with showy yellow blossoms, a treasure for the bat species she’d been studying. Now it was bare of blooms, a patch of green against acres of chollas and creosote plants with their fuzzy seed capsules thrust out like fingers. There were no cars here, no tourists crazy enough to venture out into the sizzling nowhere.
Booker pulled off down a narrow path that she never would have noticed. It led to the mouth of a mesquite-lined wash on one side and a massive cliff rising up on the other. The cliff outline was broken up by piles of roughened rock that had broken away and tumbled down, leaving mountains of rubble dotting the ground.
He handed her a bottle of water and grabbed binoculars for them both. “There.” He stabbed a finger at a gap between the cliff and a massive rocky outcropping. “Good view from there. Let’s go.”
She followed him. The heat immediately soaked her in sweat and heated her face until it felt like it would burst into flame. Grateful that she’d remembered to wear a hat, she struggled to match his long strides.
They climbed the sandy cliff trail until they reached the gap. Binoculars ready, Anita scanned the view below. The Painted Cliffs, striped with shades of gold and pink, had earned their name. The recent rain made bits of mica glitter and shine as she strained to see any signs of human presence there.
Nothing.
The only movement came from a golden eagle that soared down to land on a jagged rock far above them. She sagged, head whirling. What had she expected? That Drew would pop up around some rock pile, a smile on his face? She groaned at her own stupidity. That was exactly what she had hoped.
Booker lowered his binoculars and looked at the sun sinking into a swirl of sherbet colors behind the cliffs. “We’ve got to go. Gonna get dark fast now.”
She nodded. “Okay. I just want to climb to that lower ridge there first. I’ll have a view of the whole place.”
He frowned. “Bad idea.”
“I’ll be careful. It will only take a minute.” She saw his jaw tighten.
“Really bad idea.”
“I’m familiar with the outdoors, Booker,” she snapped. “I don’t need your permission. As a matter of fact, why don’t you head back to the truck and I’ll meet you there?” She didn’t wait for his answer, instead spinning on her heel and charging down the path that spiraled toward the ridge. Keeping up a brisk pace, she covered a half mile of twisting path before she ventured a look back. Booker was nowhere in sight.
The rock walls rose up around her, muffling the sound of any approaching feet. It was indeed growing darker by the minute, she thought ruefully. Resolutely, she continued on one of two paths that now snaked downward into a shadowed canyon. She made another half mile before the trail widened into a sort of cathedral-like cave, ribboned with veins of color and illuminated only by the faint light that still shone through a crack of rock above her.
It was the kind of scene Drew would wait hours to shoot, until the light was perfect. Fear shook through her again. There was no sign of her brother here, just as there had been none at the crash site. If he was alive, why hadn’t he contacted her? Or the police?
The cave grew suddenly dark. Anita knew she had stayed too long. Skin prickled in goose bumps, she realized there was still no sound of Booker’s approach. He must have taken her at her word and returned to the truck.
Fine. I can make it back there by myself. She was so intent on picking her way across the floor of the rubble-strewn cavern, she did not hear someone fall in behind her.
A hand, hard and calloused, grabbed her and she was jerked backward off her feet. In a moment she was sitting on a patch of loose gravel, looking into the dark face of a man who held her mouth closed with one hand and kept an arm pressed firmly across her throat, pinning her to the rocky wall.
He slowly moved his arm away from her throat and a knife materialized in his hand. Her blood froze as he held it in front of her eyes. His voice was softly tinged with a Spanish accent. “If you scream, you die.”
Fighting to keep the panic from totally overwhelming her senses, she managed a slight nod. He slowly withdrew the hand from her mouth, knife still hovering close to her face.
He was short, dressed in jeans and a vest that bulged with pockets. A radio clipped to his belt made soft static noises as he stepped back slightly to examine her. “Who are you?”
“My name is Anita Teel.” She was surprised her voice worked at all over the fear that seemed to infest every nerve. “Who are you?”
A tiny smile curved his lips and he pushed back the black hair from his face. “It does not seem to me you are in a position to ask questions.” He turned the knife so it caught the last remaining light. “Why are you here?”
She forced herself to sit up straight. “Why is that your business?”
He did not smile this time. “Everything that happens in this part of the desert is my business. I ask merely for curiosity’s sake. It would be much easier to kill you and be done with it.”
She gasped. “I’m looking for my brother. He’s a photographer. He was working in the area and he’s disappeared.” Her phone beeped, but she didn’t dare answer.
He ignored the ringing, cocked his head slightly, black eyes studying hers. “I have seen you before, further south. You were here, taking pictures, in the spring. Yes?”