sure his mother wasn’t burdened with too much work.
He started to rise from his chair, but the phone ringing stopped him in midaction. He sank back down and snatched up the receiver. “Lonechief.”
“Hawke—”
He instantly recognized Zach’s voice and sat up straight, remembering whom his cousin had sent to him only a couple of days ago.
“Maggie and I want you to come to dinner at our house before the dedication of the Collier/Somers Wing of the museum.”
“I forgot about the dedication. It’s this Saturday night?”
“Yes, in just two days. I’m glad I called to remind you. Is Evelyn coming?”
“She wouldn’t miss it for the world, but Albert is bringing her.”
“Albert Cloudwalker? Doesn’t he own the trading post by the highway into Albuquerque?”
“Yes, and yes, Mama has been seeing him.”
“Interesting.”
There was a wealth of questions in that one word. “I’m glad she’s seeing someone finally.”
A long pause, then, “I wish you would reconsider taking Kit to Desolation Canyon.”
Hawke had known that Zach would approach him about this, but it didn’t make any difference. He wouldn’t go to the canyon again. He couldn’t. Not there. “What time is dinner?”
“Six, since the dedication ceremony is at eight. And I get the point. No more talking about Kit and Desolation Canyon.”
“I’ve always said you were the smart one in the family, that is, after your grandfather.”
“I take that as a compliment. Red was exceptional.”
“See you Saturday.” Hawke hung up, staring at the pool of sunlight warming his desk.
A picture of a no-nonsense woman with long blond hair and blue eyes materialized in his mind. The determination he’d glimpsed in her worried him. He wouldn’t put it past her to try to find someone else to take her into the canyon. The only other person capable of doing that was his uncle. Thankfully Gus lived halfway between here and the canyon, and he rarely came into town. Even if he did, Hawke wasn’t concerned Gus would agree to guide the professor into that maze of ravines and mesas. His uncle was a hermit and hated to be around people. Gus only tolerated Hawke for short periods of time because he took him his supplies every couple of months. But everything he’d learned about the land was from his uncle.
Tired, Hawke flattened his hands on his desktop and pushed himself to his feet. Even if she tried to find someone, she wouldn’t.
He headed toward the door and left the station before something came up to keep him there. Yes, he worked a lot of hours, but he knew when he needed to sleep. With long strides he covered the distance to his Jeep quickly and climbed inside.
As he pulled out of the parking space in front of the tribal police station, he peered both ways down the lengthy street that ran through the heart of the small town of San Angelo. His gaze lit upon a woman coming out of Anna’s café, and he braked. He watched Dr. Kit Sinclair stroll toward the red Honda parked in front.
Almost as though his arms and legs had a mind of their own, he made a U-turn and drove toward the café.
TWO
I’m doing my job by discovering what she’s up to. If she does something foolish, I’m the one who will have to clean up the mess.
Yeah, right, nothing else motivates you.
Hawke ignored that little voice in his head and came to a halt a few feet from her car. The woman he wished he could ban from the pueblo wheeled around, her eyes growing round as he slipped from his Jeep.
“I didn’t think I would see you again in San Angelo.” He hadn’t intended to fling a challenge in her face, but somehow his words came out that way.
She stiffened, a white-knuckled grip on her black purse straps. “I didn’t think I had to ask your permission.”
“What brings you out this way a second time?”
She pinched her lips together and opened her car door. “Nothing that concerns you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to town.”
He observed her driving away and decided to do a little investigating. Striding to the café’s entrance, he knew if anyone could tell him why Kit was in town it would be Anna.
Inside, only a few tables held customers enjoying a late lunch. He scanned the large room and saw his cousin behind the counter, talking with Lester Running Bear, his long black hair hanging in a braid down his back. As Hawke moved toward Anna, the older man rose and turned toward him. A frown marred his craggy face.
“See ya, Anna.” Avoiding the direct path to the exit, his head down, Lester circumvented Hawke.
Hawke stopped at the long counter that ran the length of the café. “Has Lester been drinking? Is that why he’s dodging me?”
“He was sober.” Anna began wiping down the laminated top, her gaze averted.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Hawke settled onto a stool.
She stopped her cleaning and looked him directly in the eye. “Lester’s going to be Kit Sinclair’s guide to Desolation Canyon.”
He leaped to his feet and started for the door, then realized that the woman in question was probably halfway to the highway to Albuquerque. He came back to Anna. “Why didn’t you try to stop that?”
“Because I didn’t know until after she left. Lester was just telling me.”
“He can’t do that. He’s never sober long enough to show anyone anything.”
“Then I suggest you give her a call and tell her that.”
After the look she’d sent him out in the parking lot, he was sure that the second he identified himself she would slam down the phone. He would be in Albuquerque in two days for the dedication ceremony. He’d go see her then and make her listen to him. There was no way he would let Lester guide her anywhere.
Saturday evening Hawke rang Kit Sinclair’s bell. When no one answered, he pounded on the door. After a few minutes, he had to acknowledge she wasn’t home, which meant he would now have to make an extra trip into town to see her. Unless she was at the dedication tonight for the Collier/Somers Wing at the museum. She’d helped Zach with the exhibit, so hopefully Hawke would see her there and set her straight.
Leaving the porch, he headed toward his Jeep in the driveway. If she wasn’t at the museum, he would stop by on the way back to the pueblo. He didn’t intend to stay late at the ceremony, anyway.
“She’s already left,” said the distinguished-looking neighbor. Probably in his early forties, he held a hose, watering his plants, most of them cacti, along the border of his property with Kit’s.
