find her son alive. And she’d sell her soul to the devil himself to get Dakota back.
“Did you hear anything, see anything?”
She’d answered all these questions for Delaney but Joe needed to know as much as he could to search for her son on the reservation. The FBI hadn’t arrived yet, but Maggie would bet her son’s life on Joe. She inhaled and let the air out slowly, combing through her barely conscious memories of the past hours. “No. I didn’t see or hear anything.” Her voice caught and she bit hard on her lip to keep from shedding more tears.
She concentrated on Joe and it was as if she could see his thoughts churning in eyes so brown they could be black. His hair had started to grow out from his tour of duty with the South Dakota National Guard. He looked more like the tribal police officer she’d known rather than the unbending military man she’d seen at her husband’s funeral.
Officer Toke stepped in the door and nodded toward Joe.
Maggie held her breath hoping for news. Something tangible.
Joe pushed to his feet and strode across the room. “Did you find anything outside?”
The man shook his head. “The ground is hard and dry. Without snow, we couldn’t trace footprints.”
Maggie leaped to her feet and joined the men. “What about fingerprints?”
The police officer shook his head. “Dusted and sent to the state crime lab. Takes time to identify each. We’ll need yours to match up.”
She nodded but her shoulders sagged, the heavy burden of her failure pushing them down. “How could they just come in and leave without a trace? I was in the house all the time,” she whispered. A shiver rippled down her back.
Joe reached out and pulled her against him. “It’s not your fault, Maggie.”
“But I should have woken up.”
His fingers tightened on her forearms. “We’ll find him.”
She stared up into his dark, swarthy face, his high cheekbones and strong chin, evidence of his power and ancestry. He was Lakota, one of the surviving members of a proud nation of Sioux warriors. If anyone could find her son, he could.
The aching emptiness in her belly eased, followed quickly by an acidic froth of guilt. She should have told him her secret when she’d found out about it, before he left for the Middle East. But the time had passed. Now she had to keep the knowledge to herself.
Tribal police officer Delany Toke cleared his throat. “Joe, we found some graffiti on the exterior wall.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “What graffiti?”
“It was on the west side, out of line of sight of the road,” Del said.
“That’s been there a month.” Maggie raked a hand through her hair. Had it really been four weeks since the ugly paint had appeared on the side of her little house?
“Did you report it to the police?” Joe asked.
“No. I didn’t want the persons responsible to think I was scared. I had enough problems getting through to some of the teens as it was.” But that hadn’t stopped Paul from doing something about it. He’d been angry enough to march down to the youth center and ream every teenager unfortunate enough to stop by that day. Maggie would rather have let the matter drop, not risen to the bait.
“What does it say?” Joe asked.
Del glanced at Maggie. “‘Go away, white woman.’”
Joe stared at Maggie, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Any idea who might have done it?”
“Could have been one of a dozen.” A bucket of white paint still sat in the storage room waiting for her to cover the hateful words, but so much had happened since that day she’d completely forgotten.
Joe glanced at her. “I thought you had a rapport with them.”
“Things change. Besides, it’s a long story.” One she was entirely too tired to get into. “Shouldn’t we concentrate on finding Dakota?”
“That’s what I’m doing.” He softened his words with, “I need to know everything that’s gone on in your life for the past few months, maybe even year.”
“You mean since you’ve been gone?” Her gaze met his, unwavering for a few long seconds before she dropped hers. What was the use? He had never loved her.
“Yes, since I left. With the kidnapping of your son following the accidental death of your husband, I wonder if Paul’s death wasn’t as accidental as we’d originally assumed.”
Maggie struggled with the words teetering on the tip of her tongue. Would the facts she’d withheld make a difference in Joe’s investigation, or would they only cloud the issue of finding her son?
When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Do you know if Paul was involved in any unusual activities?”
Gritting her teeth, Maggie shook herself and concentrated on Joe’s question. He didn’t need to know any more than he already did about Dakota. As the head of tribal police, he had a lot of influence within the tribe. It was enough for him to know his stepbrother’s son was missing. “Unusual? What do you mean?”
“Was he acting strange, had he altered his habits? Did he hang out with anyone in particular?”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know. Paul didn’t tell me about his life outside our home.” She swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. He hadn’t told her because she hadn’t let him. Paul had loved her and had married her when she’d been desperate. What had he gotten from the deal?
Nothing.
As the only white man she’d halfway trusted on the reservation, she’d gone to him to seek help in preserving her secret.
From the beginning, Paul knew Maggie still loved Joe but he’d married her anyway. Maggie had been the one to insist on a marriage in name only. Although Paul would have liked it otherwise, he’d abided by her wishes, agreeing to wait until after she’d given birth to persuade her otherwise. He’d slept in a separate bedroom down the hall from her, and he’d come and gone as he pleased. All this was information Joe didn’t need to know.
No one knew. As far as the Painted Rock Indian Tribe was concerned, Paul was the father of her baby.
“He worked nights at the casino and I worked days at the youth center. We didn’t see much of each other.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Not much of a married life,” he muttered, but he didn’t ask any more questions about Paul’s friends or activities. He turned to Officer Toke. “Check Paul’s phone records and get out to the casino and ask around.”
The officer nodded. “Will do.” He tipped his head at Maggie. “Ma’am, let us know if you hear anything from the kidnappers.”
A rush of panic pushed Maggie forward and she laid a hand on Joe’s arm. “You have to find him, he’s your—” She bit hard on her tongue until
