both hands atop her stomach. “Joe’s in the den with J.T. They’re talking strategy. Want to join them?”
Andi laughed as she laced her arm through Joanna’s. “You know that Joe all but forbid me to interfere. He told me that he’d keep in touch through you or Kate, and inform me when he had any news about the boys.”
“Typical macho man.” Joanna led Andi inside, into the large, terra-cotta tiled foyer. “But my guess is that neither Joe nor J.T. will be surprised to see you. Especially not my J.T. He’s gotten to know you pretty well these past five years and he’s acquainted with your mile-wide stubborn streak.”
“I’m not going to let Joe bully me. I have every right to be involved in the search. I may not have his qualifications, but—”
“Save your arguments for Joe. I’m on your side, remember? We women have to stick together against our ultra-masculine Navajo males.”
“Joe isn’t my Navajo male,” Andi reminded her friend.
Joanna eyed the silver-and-turquoise bracelet that adorned Andi’s wrist. “Then why are you wearing his brand?”
Why, indeed! Andi fingered the magnificent piece of jewelry, handcrafted by Joe and J.T.’s great-grandfather, Benjamin Greymountain. The sentimentally priceless bracelet had been a gift from Joe on her twenty-fifth birthday, shortly before her father’s death.
“It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I own, but I wore it today for a reason. I’m going to give it back to Joe. I would have given it to him five years ago, if he hadn’t left in such a hurry. He didn’t stick around long enough even to say goodbye.”
“And you still resent his speedy departure,” Joanna commented. “Admit it to yourself, even if you won’t admit it to me—you still care about Joe. Otherwise, you’d already have found someone else.”
“I think we’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we? But I’ll tell you again—I don’t care about Joe. He means nothing to me. And as you well know, I’ve had several interesting men in my life during the past few years, so that should prove I haven’t been pining away for some lost love.”
“Just how many of those interesting men lasted longer than a couple of months?” Joanna asked. “Not one of those relationships got beyond the kissing—”
Much to Andi’s relief, Joanna’s assessment of her love life, or lack thereof, was cut short by the interruption of two redheaded twin toddlers. Annabelle grabbed her mother’s right leg as her brother Benjamin manacled the left. They gazed up at Andi with their father’s dark eyes. Then a tall, lanky boy of six entered the foyer, halting abruptly when he saw his young siblings attached to Joanna.
“Hi, Andi,” the black-haired, green-eyed boy said. “Sorry, Mama, but they got away from me before I knew what was happening.” John Thomas Blackwood acted if he were a grown-up, though he was nothing more than a child himself. J.T. and Joanna’s eldest had been born an old soul, a protector and a caretaker. Every time Andi was around the boy she sensed his ancient spirit.
“It’s all right, honey. No one can keep up with these two.” Joanna pried the twins away from her legs and grasped each one by a hand, keeping them separated by her body. Then she turned to Andi. “It’s almost supper-time, so I need to get my brood cleaned up and ready to eat. You know where J.T.’s den is. Feel free to interrupt, and tell Joe and him that Rita will be serving dinner in about thirty minutes.”
“I intend to tell them more than that.” Andi’s voice was edged with tension.
“What’s wrong, Andi?” John Thomas asked. “Are you angry with my daddy?”
“Good heavens, no,” Andi said. “I’m angry with—”
Joanna cleared her throat.
“I’m a little annoyed with your cousin Joe,” Andi amended.
“I like Joe,” John Thomas told her. “He brought me an Atlanta Braves cap and a baseball signed by Chipper Jones.”
Andi forced a smile. Joanna chuckled under her breath, then shooed her brood down the hall, leaving Andi alone in the foyer. Okay, get this over with, she told herself. Walk right into J.T.’s den and tell those infuriating, old-fashioned, domineering men that in order to represent the Lapahie family, you insist on having a personal involvement in the search for Russ and Eddie.
J.T. handed Joe a bottle of beer, then sat across from him in a huge wing chair upholstered in a striking Navajo blanket-style fabric, a mate to Joe’s chair. Joe liked the masculine look of the room, which he thought reflected his cousin’s mixed heritage and his own unique personality quite well. It was obvious that the woman who had decorated this room not only knew J.T. well, but cared deeply for him. His cousin was a lucky man to have found someone like Joanna.
Crossing one leg over the other, J.T. shook his head. “There’s no evidence that the boys were involved in the crime.”
“Circumstantial evidence at best,” Joe agreed. “They were seen running from Bobby Yazzi’s home shortly after gunshots were fired, which places them with Bobby at the time of his death. And they haven’t turned themselves in to the police, which makes them look guilty of something, even if they’re not.”
“Do you think they’re guilty of something other than being scared kids?” J.T. asked, then took a swig from his beer.
Joe circled his thumb around the mouth of his bottle. “Eddie’s never been in any kind of trouble. I know he couldn’t have killed Bobby or even been a party to his murder. I’m sure he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“What about Russ?”
“I don’t know about that boy. The last thing I want is to believe that Russell’s son has committed a crime. If I have to bring in Russ, it’ll be like arresting Russell all over again. Is anybody going to believe that I want to help that boy, and not condemn him?”
“‘Anybody’ being Andi Stephens?” J.T.’s lips curved up in a hint of a smile.
“I saw her today,” Joe said. “She was at Kate and Ed’s when I arrived. She still hates me. Still blames me for what happened to Russell.”
“Russell Lapahie was a good man who made a bad mistake.” J.T. rubbed his beer bottle back and forth between the palms of his hands. “You did the legally responsible thing. You were a police officer with a sworn duty. Russell committed a crime. He was wrong. You were right.”
“Yeah, sure.” Joe set his beer on the round wooden side table that separated the matching chairs, then stood and walked over to the big window facing the U-shaped veranda that circled the back of the house. “If I was right, then why did everyone I knew—except you and Joanna and Kate and Ed—turn against me? Why did even my fellow officers look at me as if I’d been the one who committed the crime?”
“Everyone liked Russell. He was a respected man in the Navajo community. At the time Russell killed himself, people reacted emotionally. Today, I don’t think anyone blames you for what happened. In retrospect, they realize that Russell took the easy way out and that what you did took courage and strong convictions.”
“Andi still blames me. And I’m sure Doli and Russ do, too. I doubt I can ever redeem myself
