The Warrior (30 page)

 

Dieter was in the mall looking for some laborer's clothing when his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID, then frowned. All the screen said was Private Caller, but it had to be her. Besides Richard, she was the only person who would have this number.

“Hello?”

“Listen to me, you little worm, because I will not repeat myself. There is a Mexican restaurant down near the water called Mamacita's. Be there at eleven o'clock tonight. You'll get what you need. And when you see
your boss again, tell him for me if he ever shows his face back in Houston again, he's a dead man.”

Dieter stiffened. Was this the woman who was going to help, or was this a warning that everything was getting worse?

“Mamacita's. Right,” Dieter repeated.

Like Richard, he, too, was rewarded with a dial tone. But he didn't care. He was out of options. He had to take a chance that this would work out. He paid for the three pairs of denim pants he'd picked out and left the store on the run. He needed to get back to his motel, pack and find that Mexican restaurant. The worst thing that could happen right now was being too late and missing his chance to escape.

J
ohn was in his office, running through e-mail and talking to his broker, when Alicia walked past the doorway. He saw the slump in her shoulders. When she didn't even look his way, he knew he needed to do something to get her out of her depression.

He'd been considering a trip into Sedona for a couple of days, and now seemed like a good time. He was going to put a smile on Alicia's face today or know the reason why.

Alicia was standing in the hallway outside what she called John's “memorial room,” staring at the painting of White Fawn, when she heard footsteps behind her. She sighed. Damn. He'd caught her.

“Hey, baby…come away from there.”

Alicia wouldn't turn around. She didn't want him to know she was jealous, and she figured he would see it on her face.

“I was just…uh…”

“Wanna go for a ride?”

She turned before she thought. “In the helicopter?”

“No. There is a Jeep out back. We can drive.”

“Really? Is it safe?”

He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips before he set her back down.

“Yes, really. And who the hell knows?” he said as he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “We need some groceries, and I want to show you my favorite art gallery while we're there.”

“Fantastic!” Alicia said as she clapped her hands. “You know what? This will be our first real date.”

The right corner of his mouth tilted slightly.

“I'd say it was about time to show you a good time.”

She grinned. “You'll have to work hard to surpass your own benchmark, Nightwalker.”

“How so?”

“The best times I've ever had in my life were in bed with you. I can't think of anything you can do to top that, but I'm all for giving it a go.”

A smile broke across John's face, then spread all the way to his eyes. Alicia saw them glitter and knew he was pleased by what she'd said. When he took her into his arms and kissed her again, this time slower and longer, she shivered with sudden longing.

He heard her sigh. The temptation to take her to bed and forget the trip to Sedona was strong, but he'd promised. Besides, there was always tonight.

“So put on your going-to-town duds and some comfortable shoes. I'll be in the kitchen making a list of things we need.”

“I won't be long,” Alicia said, and hurried away.

John watched her go, then hesitated before glancing
into the room—straight to the woman in the painting. He stood for a long, silent moment, waiting for a sound to come out of that beautiful smiling mouth, even though he knew better.

“You would like her,” he said softly, then turned and walked away.

 

John drove with the windows down, letting the hot wind blow in and out at will, a smile on his face and the accelerator all the way to the floor. If he had a vice, it was speed. Alicia glanced over at him as they drove, eyeing his silver earring bouncing and swaying with the airflow, and thought to herself that, at that moment, he looked every inch an untamed male.

Sensing her gaze on him, he looked at her and winked, which made her want him all over again.

“You're a madman, aren't you?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Not mad…just a little bit uncivilized.”

She just shook her head, grabbed hold of the seat belt and held on.

They reached the outskirts of Sedona a short while later. John took her straight to the art gallery and introduced her to the owner, a woman he'd known for years named Sasha Macklin.

Sasha had started out trying to earn a living as a painter years ago but quickly came to the conclusion that she would make more money selling other people's art, rather than her own. She'd had the business for almost thirty years now and loved what she did.

She'd met John twenty-five years ago, when she was a size eight and her long red hair was thick and wavy.
Now her hair was short and gray, and her eight had turned into eighteen, although she didn't really care. She always laughed, claiming she'd earned every gray hair and every pound she was carrying, and was proud of them.

But when John Nightwalker walked into her gallery, the first thing she thought was that she was seeing a ghost. It had been almost fifteen years since she'd seen him, although they talked now and then on the phone. But looking at him coming in the door with a tall, dark-haired woman on his arm gave her a twinge of regret. The woman was probably somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. Just the age she'd been when they met.

John saw her eyes widen and could only imagine what she was thinking. Still, there was no getting around the obvious.

“Hey, lady…I'm looking for a good deal.”

Sasha pushed herself up from behind her desk, opened her arms and hugged him.

“You crazy Indian…are you still driving like a bat out of hell?”

Alicia grinned. The woman obviously knew him well.

“Sasha, I want you to meet someone. A—Lisa, this is Sasha Macklin. Sasha…Lisa.”

Alicia realized immediately why he hadn't called her by her name. The name Alicia Ponte was something of a lightning rod these days. No need to let the whole world know where she was.

“Sasha, I'm so pleased to meet you. John told me you had the best art gallery in Sedona. I can't wait to see the displays.”

Sasha beamed. Praise for her first love always made her happy.

“It's the truth, if I say so myself. Look your fill, Lisa.”

Alicia nodded, then slipped off for a closer look at a grouping of small sculptures, giving John some alone time with a woman who was obviously an old friend.

Sasha eyed John up and down, as if she were judging a piece of art, then shrugged.

“I don't know how you do it, Nightwalker, but you haven't aged a day since we met.”

John just shook his head and hugged her again. “You're being too kind,” he said. “So tell me, what's been happening with you?”

Sasha snorted. “Nothing is what's happening, but that's okay with me. Men are too much trouble to mess with these days.”

He laughed. “Never thought I'd hear you say that.”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she looked at him again. Impulsively, she put her hand on his face, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin.

“Seriously…how do you do it?”

“Would you believe I'm immortal?”

She rolled her eyes and punched him on the arm. “Just like a man. Ask a serious question, get a bullshit answer.”

He smiled. “What can I say?”

She sighed. “So let's go join your lady friend—who, by the way, looks suspiciously like the pictures I saw of that Ponte woman.”

John's smile slipped.

“Don't worry,” Sasha said quickly. “I learned a long time ago how to keep my mouth shut. She's in a hell of a fix, isn't she…having her father turn out to be a traitor and all? I don't know if I'd have the guts to do what she did.”

John looked at Alicia, who was moving slowly along
the length of one wall while gazing at the paintings Sasha had hung there.

“She's a constant source of amazement,” he said softly.

Sasha sighed. She was too old to feel jealous, but there had been a time in her life when she would have killed to have him look at her the way he was looking at Alicia.

“You're in love with her, aren't you?”

John was a little startled to hear it said outside of his own thoughts. Then he shrugged.

“It's beginning to feel like it.”

Sasha patted him on the arm. “Even if she's a little young for you, I wish you the best.”

John grinned. Young? Sasha had no idea how right she was.

“Let's go join her,” John said, and pulled Sasha along as he hurried to Alicia's side.

John slid an arm around Alicia's shoulders. “See anything you like?”

She looked up at him, then smiled. “Easier to ask if there's anything here I
don't
like. Everything is amazing.” Then she pointed to a painting to her right. “That one is stunning,” she said.

Sasha smiled. “Good eye, my dear. That piece was painted by one of my most successful artists. His name is Troy Anderson. He's Cherokee, and a native of Oklahoma. I have some more of his work in another room. Want to see?”

“Please,” Alicia said, then slipped her hand beneath John's elbow. “Do you mind?”

“Hey…we came here to see art. So let's see all there is to see, okay?”

“Okay,” Alicia said, and followed along, listening and sometimes adding to the conversation between John and Sasha as they did a walk-through of the gallery.

They were almost back to the front gallery when Alicia saw a set of photos hanging on a wall just inside what appeared to be an office. Almost immediately, she realized John was in one of them.

“Hey!” she said. “That's you, isn't it?” She pointed toward the photo as she stepped inside the room.

“Wait!” John said, but it was too late. She was already there.

Sasha frowned at him, then followed them in. She didn't see what the big deal was. The woman could hardly be jealous. The picture had been taken the weekend she and John met, which was probably before Alicia Ponte had even been born.

Alicia was standing before the photo, frowning. Something was out of kilter about it, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Then all of a sudden, it hit her. The hair and clothes. They were seriously out of style. She pointed to the photo, smiling.

“Hey, John, what was the occasion? A costume party?”

Sasha burst out laughing. “No, honey. That was the height of fashion in the eighties. I distinctly remembered shopping for hours before I settled on that minidress. As for my hair…what can I say? I had myself a real Farrah Fawcett flip going on, didn't I?”

Alicia stared at the photo, trying to make sense of what Sasha had just said. “I'm sorry. Are you in the picture, too?”

Sasha pointed. “I know I've changed, but hey…it's been twenty-five years.”

Alicia's heart began to beat so hard and fast that she felt dizzy. This couldn't be right. That pretty redhead in the photo was Sasha—twenty-five years ago?

She turned to John, unaware of the look of shock on her face.

He held his breath, not sure what to expect.

Alicia looked from Sasha to John, then back at the photo, before suddenly turning around and walking out of the office.

John frowned. This wasn't good. He glanced at Sasha, who shrugged, as if to say,
How can you blame her?
and hurried after her.

“Alicia…baby?”

She stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

The expression on her face was calm. He didn't know what to make of it.

“Uh, you just walked out so quickly, I thought you were upset.”

“Who? Me? Upset? Why would I be upset?” she asked, unaware that her voice was rising with each word she spoke.

John flinched. Damn. “You tell me,” he said.

She doubled up her fists, resisting the urge to slug him. “I don't know what to say, what to think, what to do. Have I fallen in love with a gorgeous sixty-something…or do you have another big round of bullshit to explain this away, as well? Oh, wait. Let me guess. That same Tibetan monk who taught you how to heal yourself also gave you the secret to eternal youth.”

“This date isn't going as well as I expected.”

She rolled her eyes and then spied Sasha standing in the hall behind them. She shifted gears so fast that
John's head was spinning as she stepped past him and retraced her steps with her hand outstretched.

“Sasha…I have to say that you have a wonderful array of Native American and Southwestern art. And, it's been a pleasure to meet you. However, we have a couple of errands to run before we head back home, so I know you'll understand that we need to go now.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, too,” Sasha said, then gave the younger woman an impulsive hug. “I don't know why I did that,” she said as she gave her a quick pat and let her go. “You just looked like you could do with a hug.”

Alicia smiled. “Thank you. A person can never get too many hugs.” Then she turned around and walked past John without speaking.

He sighed. So much for a change of pace. They were right back to square one, with distrust and anger.

“It was good to see you again,” he told Sasha.

“It was good to see you, too.” Then she added, “Better take care of that one. I think she's a keeper.”

John nodded and hurried on out to the Jeep. When he got there, Alicia was already buckled up and waiting. She wouldn't look at him, and he didn't know what to say to make things better.