The Ties That Bind (37 page)

Sage didn't say anything, instead just looked at me.

"Goddammit," I fumed. "This isn't our battle. Let the professionals handle it." But even as I said it, I was already turning west, away from 550, and toward Shiprock.

"She got a phone call late last night from a guy who said that if she didn't give him the notebook, he'd make sure she ended up like Bill, and he'd come for it today. She was getting ready to go to work and she opened her door and there's a guy in a pickup sitting at the end of her driveway."

"Pickup?" I glanced over at her then back at the road. Maybe I did need to go to Tonya's. Because if the guy sitting in her driveway was the guy who messed with Sage and River, I was going to break his kneecaps.

"Dark blue."

And his elbows
. Then I'd leave him tied to a stake near a lonely desert wash so skinwalkers could finish the job for me. I sped up. "Does she know who it is?" I gripped the steering wheel so hard my hands hurt.

"She can't tell from her window. She was scared but pissed and said she was going to go out and tell him to fuck off."

"Holy shit." Tonya might be ballsier than the guy in her driveway, sitting out there in broad freakin' daylight. In his dark blue pickup. Dark blue
.
Why did that keep digging at me?

"I'm going to call Simmons now."

I nodded, more to myself than Sage, and forced myself to drive the speed limit. What the hell was I racing for? What the hell could we do once we got there? The guy might have a gun. At the very least, he had a big truck and he wasn't afraid to use it. I glared out the window, imagining laser beams shooting out of my eyes.

We reached the western edge of Farmington and I sped up, thinking I was crazy to go racing toward this situation, crazy for not trying to talk Sage out of it, and crazier still for wanting to race out to Tonya's and break some guy's legs.
I am not behaving logically.
Then again, had Logic's girlfriend been run off the road by a thug in a pickup, Logic might fly out the window, too, jump into her car, and go looking for whoever messed with her girlfriend.

Sage hung up with Simmons and addressed me. "Tonya's about halfway between here and Shiprock. Turn left at the Hogback Trading Company. It's not far down that road, near the canal."

"What'd Simmons say?"

"She's on her way."

I didn't add anything and instead mulled possibilities and courses of action, none of which involved pulling over or turning around. "So," I said after a while, "if this guy thinks Tonya's got Bill's notebook, why did he run you and River off the road?"

"Because he thought River and I had it. When he didn't find it in my car, he decided to put some pressure on Tonya."

"But why now? Why wouldn't they pressure Tonya sooner, like a couple of days after Bill's body was found?" I sped up to get around a truck hauling a flatbed trailer piled high with bales of hay.

"Maybe because there wasn't a murder charge yet."

That made sense. Why call attention to a death you're responsible for if nobody else is saying anything? "Good point. But they had to be watching her. Maybe the asshole who ran you off the road knew you and River were there yesterday and figured she gave you the notebook. Maybe that's why they went after you. Were you carrying anything when you got in the car?"

"Shit," Sage said after a pause. "Yes. River was. That box of photos I told you about on the phone before you left. Tonya said they were photos that pre-dated her, so she figured we'd have more use for them. So somebody might have been watching us then," she added, echoing my thoughts.

"Do you remember if you saw anything or anybody that didn't look right? Or if you maybe saw the pickup that ran you off the road when you headed out?" Holy hell, I sounded like Chris.

"Let me think..." Sage stared out the windshield for a while, tapping her cell phone against her thigh. "No. I don't remember," she said, frustrated.

We drove in silence for a few more minutes before she spoke again. "I have a copy of the notebook in my bag."

I glanced at her, then back to the road, not sure where she was going with this information.

"I can give it to the guy at Tonya's house. After all, he didn't say that he wanted the original. He might not even know there is one. For all he knows, Dad made several copies of it and mailed them out to news agencies all over the country."

"And how do you propose we give it to him?" I asked, envisioning Sage marching up to the pickup and yanking the driver's side door open and saying something like,
"Hey, asshole. Here's what you're looking for. My girlfriend is now going to break your kneecaps. You'd better call someone to drive you home."

"I hadn't gotten that far," she admitted with a little grin that made me laugh, a mixture of insanity, stress, and the fact that once again, I was headed
toward
trouble instead of away from it. Sage stared at me for a second then she, too, laughed, and it felt good to share that with her in the midst of all this craziness.

"Okay, honey, slow down. We're coming to the turn-off," Sage said, grabbing my arm. I did so, and as I turned off the road, her phone rang.

"Hey, are you okay?" she answered.

Must be Tonya, I thought, slowing down even more.

"You did what?" Sage said into her phone.

I glanced over at her, then back at the road. A car passed, going the opposite direction, and I turned onto the dirt road Sage had indicated before her phone rang.

"Pull over," she said to me, and the urgency in her voice made me pound the brake, bringing the car to a stop in a cloud of dust.

"What's going on?" I gripped the steering wheel, foot still on the brake, holding the car in position.

Sage stared at me, eyes wide in disbelief. "You're not going to believe this."

I waited, stomach knotted.

"Tonya shot him." She hesitated. There was more. There had to be. I released my death grip so I could take her hand. "But he got away," she added.

I groaned and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel.

"ON THE PLUS side, he's got to get medical attention," Kara was saying over the phone as I stood in the driveway of Tonya's double-wide, uneasily watching the dirt thoroughfare that had brought us here. Maybe thirty yards separated her front door from the road that would take us back to the highway. Although if the guy came back, he might think twice, seeing two police cars parked out front.

"If it's serious. It might not be. Tonya doesn't know for sure how much damage she did."

"But she got his license plate, too. It's just a matter of time now, Kase."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the beginnings of a headache, and still thinking about the dark blue pickup. The wind had kicked up and dust swirled around the driveway, coating my legs. "I'm so fucking tired," I said, half to myself, half to Kara.

"Okay, tell you what. Take the car back to the rental agency and I'll drive up and get you."

"Nah. By the time you got here, it'd be practically six and we'd end up staying the night. And if I spend one more night here, I'm going to go certifiably insane."

"Okay...are you sure?" She sounded worried.

"Yes. I'm so over this. How are you guys? Everything normal down there?"

"Please. I'm a Fontero. How could things be 'normal'?"

I smiled.

"If you mean, is everything as it should be, yes. No weird phone calls, no threatening letters, no blue or black pickups cruising by the house. I'm thinking that Chris is right, and once you get out of there, the nutjobs are going to stay up there and self-destruct."

"Let's hope." I turned toward the house. Somebody had added a covered porch to the front, along with a deck that went the length of the trailer. I wondered if Bill had done that. Sage was still talking to Simmons, who had brought Martin with her. He stood just behind her, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses on. He looked like secret service. Sage nodded and said something then shook Simmons' hand. "Looks like things are wrapping up here and we'll be on the road in a few. Hey, have you heard anything about Purcell?"

"Yes. Shoshana called a couple of hours ago and said he was still in Shiprock with relatives. I'll let her know what happened with Tonya so she can pass it along to him. I don't think it's necessary to call Nan."

Something jogged a memory.
Nan. Pickup. Dark blue.
It clicked. Purcell's driveway. Dark blue Ford. "Don't." The word was out of my mouth before I had a chance to consider it.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't tell her just yet."

"And your reasoning behind that?" she asked with a hint of petulance.

"Just a feeling. It's not about her. It's about Purcell."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. You've talked to him twice. What the hell is your issue?"

"Something's not adding up." Chris always said that good instincts meant you'd been paying attention, whether you recognized it or not.

"Like what?"

"How many people live at Purcell's? Him and Nan, right? Nobody else?"

"Why would I know that?" Kara sounded irritated.

"Maybe Shoshana mentioned something about it. Think about it. It's just him and Nan there, maybe friends and relatives stopping by to visit. Right?"

"I have no fucking idea where you're going with this."

"If it's just him and Nan, and if Purcell doesn't drive--" "Not much. He does on occasion. So what?" "The truck, Kara. The fucking truck."
Oh, my god. That's it. The link.

"What?"

"The first time we went to talk to him, there were three cars in the driveway, including a dark blue pickup."

"Oh, hell no--"

"Hear me out. The second time we talked to him, when I went over there to see what Monroe was up to, there were two vehicles missing, including that truck. Nan probably drove one, and I'd bet she drives the sedan, but who was driving the truck?" The thought jumped into my skull.
Surano. He was driving it. Surano's the guy who ran Sage and River off the road.

"You are fucking crazy," she said, dismissing me. "Purcell probably loaned it to someone who was moving or something."

She had a point. I chewed my lip and stared again at the road.

"And if he's in on any of this, why the hell is he in Shiprock with his wife's family? He received a threat, after all."

"Did he? Or is that just what he told Shoshana?" I countered. After all, I thought, we can't prove the threat. It's what he told Shoshana. Because he knew it would get back to us.
Oh. My. God.
All we had to go on was what he told us. After all, we hadn't checked out any of his stories. We hadn't checked out his relationship with Monroe. Maybe they
were
buddies and Monroe was over at Purcell's warning him or telling him stuff about me and Kara and they got worked up trying to figure out what to do next
. He's been playing us this whole time.
I was almost positive that was the case. But why?

"That's it. I don't want to hear any more of this bullshit. You've been weird about Shoshana since she came on to you."

"Jesus, Kara. This isn't about her. It's about a guy that she's related to. It has nothing to do with her. If he's been feeding her crap, why would she think that it's crap? He's her uncle, after all. Why wouldn't she believe him?"

"I don't want to talk about this. I'll see you when you get home."

"Kara--" Too late. She had hung up. "Fuck," I said under my breath. I'd have to deal with her wrath later. Right now, I needed to follow up with Jamison Purcell and Jimmy Surano. I dialed Chris's personal cell but got bumped to voicemail, so I waited for the beep. "Hey,
mujer
, it's me. Listen, can you do me a favor and run a check on a Jimmy Surano? He might be listed as James and I think the last name is spelled S-U-R-A-N-O. He's employed at Ridge Star. I need to know if there's a connection to Jamison Purcell. Thanks. Oh, and Sage and I are about to head home. Catch you later." I left her with the assurance that we were, in fact, leaving Farmington before I hung up. I walked over to Tonya's front door, where she stood still talking to Sage and Simmons. Martin hovered behind Simmons, implacable.

"Excuse me," I interrupted, looking at Tonya. "Do you have a Farmington phonebook?" I figured she had to have one. Phonebooks were still around, especially in rural areas like these.

"Sure," she said. "Let me get it." I waited as she retreated into the house, Sage looking at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Does she have someone coming to fix the door?" I asked, deflecting.

"Yes. And what do you need a phonebook for?"

So much for deflecting with Sage. "A hunch. I'll tell you later."

Simmons started to say something but Tonya reappeared with the requested item. "Thanks," I said, taking it. I walked over to the porch railing and set the phonebook on it, flipping through the letter P as the conversation behind me resumed. Three different Purcells, but only one Jamison, and the address listed was his house. I programmed the number into my phone and closed the phonebook, which I handed back to Tonya with another thank you. She took it and managed a smile.

"We'll make sure somebody keeps an eye on the house," Simmons was saying. "In the meantime, if you notice anything strange, or if the truck comes back, call me. Here's my direct cell phone number." She handed Tonya a card. "Same goes for you," Simmons added, this time looking at Sage, who nodded and put her sunglasses on.

"Thank you so much for all your help," Sage said.

"You're welcome."

"And thanks, Tonya, for the photos."

"I think he would've wanted you to have them," Tonya said, a catch in her voice.

Sage paused. "Call if you need to."

Tonya smiled and nodded and Sage took my hand and pulled me down the two porch steps to the driveway. "Let's go," she said under her breath, squeezing my hand as we walked toward the rental car. "It's time."

We got into the car and as I pulled out of the driveway onto the dirt road that would take us back to Highway 64, I thought that yes, it was time to leave Tonya's. But maybe not quite time to leave Farmington. Yet.