somebody.”
Cursing, Kris let off on the gas, touched the brakes, then started gearing down, the transmission roaring in protest. The image ahead of them was surreal, like watching a train wreck about to occur, but in slow motion.
Finally the brake lights on the van flashed as red as the traffic signal. The vehicle fishtailed violently, then entered onto the highway. The van slipped right in front of a big SUV, forcing the driver to practically stand on his brakes, then the lucky pair whipped across three more lanes of traffic like a bullet, untouched. Max could hear the scream of tires from an eighth of a mile away, and blue smoke and dust filled the intersection.
“Hang on, it’s gonna be close,” she yelled as her pickup’s brakes pulsed and stopped them cold after three sharp jerks. By the time it was all said and done, they were on the crosswalk, just feet from the stream of cars hurtling past in front of them. Cars continued to whiz by, although the SUV that had been nearly transfixed by the van had pulled over by the shoulder farther to the west.
The van, now racing up the hill toward an old natural gas plant, was nearly out of sight.
“Any way we can get across?” Max yelled, looking both ways and seeing nothing but traffic.
“Wanna run out there and blow a whistle? My truck and I will join you after the light changes.”
He slammed his hand down hard on the dashboard and cursed, seeing that the van had disappeared. “Why did you insist on driving if you weren’t willing to do what had to be done?”
“You would have played dodge car with my truck and my life? No way! I just saved both of our lives by not running that gauntlet. Instead of backseat driving you should be on the phone updating the police so they can pick up the chase.”
He knew there weren’t enough officers around to cut off every avenue of escape, but he called it in anyway, updating dispatch, then hung up. “We’ll have to go to the sheriff’s office and make a statement.”
The light finally changed, and she turned right, heading toward Farmington, the closest community with a sheriff’s department office.
Turning to glance at him, she saw that he’d placed the trigger lock back on her pistol and was returning it to its place beneath the seat. “Who were those guys, anyway? They can’t be my enemies, so they must be yours.”
Making a split-second decision, he decided she’d earned the right to know what was at stake. “Don’t be so sure of anything, not at this point. I believe those men were connected to the theft of the platinum.”
“The what?”
“The cargo, the merchandise, the stuff your sister and I were trying to deliver for the tribe. About a half-million dollars worth of jewelry-grade platinum was in that metal case, destined to be made into high-end jewelry by our craftsmen at the new tribal design facility.” He met her gaze. “And that’s for your ears only. The tribe doesn’t want half the state of New Mexico running around looking for the stuff. We’re searching for the raw material, not the finished designs. Tracing it would be impossible.”
“Platinum is worth a lot more than gold, too. Finally you’re giving me facts. So how about another? Why would those men come after us?” she demanded, as she continued driving east. “Or were they just after you? And if so, why?”
“Your sister hid the platinum before she died so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. I’m guessing those men were hoping we could lead them to it.”
“I get it,” she said, nodding slowly. “They want you, because you were there and knew my sister, and me, because they think I can second-guess her.”
He didn’t answer right away. “That’s the way I see it,” he said, after a beat.
His pause hadn’t escaped her. He was holding something else back—there was another secret tied to the mystery that had claimed her sister’s life. “There’s more to your story. Tell me the rest or you’re on your own from this point on.”
“There is something else,” he said, giving her a look of grudging admiration. “Your sister left a note, but only managed to get one word down—Remember— before she had to make a run for it,” he said.
“Remember what?” Kris asked, mulling it over in her mind. “That’s not much of a clue. Any idea what it means?”
“No, and that’s why I came to you. I thought that maybe together we could figure things out.”
“Was the note addressed to anyone in particular?”
“No, but at the time she probably thought I was either dead—or as good as. It would have made sense for her to have left that message for you.”
“And she didn’t address it because she was afraid that if Harris found it, he’d come after me?”
“That’s one theory I’ve been tossing around,” he admitted.
“And now you’re thinking that Harris’s partners found out about the note and that’s why they came after us? If that’s true, at least one of them must be working from the inside then.”
He nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
They rode in silence for the next several minutes, traffic getting heavier as they approached the city of Farmington, the largest community in the area.
“There’s something I need to know,” Max said at last. “What would you have done if we’d actually caught up to them, and you’d learned that those men had been involved in your sister’s death?”
“I would have done whatever was necessary to hold them for the police.” She glanced at him, then back at the road. “If you’re thinking I’d want revenge, you’re wrong. I’ve seen enough tit-for-tat killings in the past two years. But those people made a big mistake. They came after me. And by doing that, they’ve ensured I’ll go after them. When it comes to defending myself, I believe in being proactive.”
Max considered what she’d said. He agreed with it and found his respect for her growing. “So what are you plans?” he asked.
“I’m going to finish this,” Kris answered firmly.
“I’m going to find the men who killed my sister and bring them in. After that, if the platinum still hasn’t been found, I’ll concentrate on finding it so I can return it to the tribe. I’m sure that’s the way my sister would have liked me to honor her memory.”
He said nothing for several long moments. Finally he spoke. “Police business is filled with ambiguous lines. If you choose to cross those lines, you better have a clear idea of what you’re trying to do and how far you’re willing to go to get what you want. Things can get very messy, believe me.”
“Is that why you wanted to pursue them yourself?”
He regarded her silently for some time. She was smart and good at reading between the lines. Yet what he liked most about her was her confidence. She wouldn’t take crap from anyone. A man would have a lot to measure up to before she let him get close, and that was the kind of challenge he thrived under. A sudden primitive need he hadn’t counted on swept through him.
He
