Canyon Shadows

K.C. West Victoria Welsh

Blue Feather Books LTD. (2010)

Archaeologists Kim Blair and PJ Curtis, newly married both in ancient days (thanks to time travel) and in modern times, are eager for some privacy and relaxation. They set up housekeeping on Kim's ranch near Santa Fe, New Mexico. Though idyllic in nearly every way, their domestic bliss becomes tedious, and the Land of Enchantment seems too tame after the action-packed adventures Kim and PJ experienced in Arizona, Wales, and Greece. Then a visit from an Amazon spirit guide forces them to refocus on their destiny and warns them of unexpected danger and heartache.

While PJ is away on a business trip, someone breaks into the house on the ranch. Kim's trusted wolf-dog, Pup, is injured and Kim disappears. Few clues exist, but PJ finds the one most likely to reunite her with her beloved Kim. PJ must risk everything to rescue her spouse from a desolate canyon hideaway.

In this fourth book of the West and Welsh "Shadow" series, Amazon shaman meets Navajo medicine woman in a gripping saga. PJ and Kim combat unspeakable evil, face overwhelming physical and mental pain, and strive valiantly to restore the harmony they so treasure. They've said they'll love each other forever and always, but just how long is that? The answer is a matter of life or death and lies in the Canyon Shadows.

Canyon Shadows

K.C. West and Victoria Welsh

Chapter 1

"This old Tracker has seen better days," I said, as PJ and I drove beneath an arch of antlers the previous owner had erected over the entrance to my home, our home now, in Northern New Mexico. The ranch had been a steal, really. The previous owner, a cranky old so and so, had been forced to sell due to financial problems.

"It's not as though you've treated it gently," PJ said, referring to the Tracker. "And that old Jeep you keep up here is in even worse condition, if that's possible."

"That old thing was here when I bought the place. I think it's a World War II relic. It's not even registered." We bounced over the rutted dirt road that led to the ranch house.

"You're hard on vehicles. You drive them into places that are better fit for mountain goats. And the poor Tracker was taxed to the limit when we were in Arizona for the Amazon Expedition."

I pulled to the side of the road to let the dust settle and gave her a sideways glance, momentarily overcome with emotion. Memories of our first meeting in the Superstition Mountains came flooding back. Our personalities had clashed early, but we'd managed to find mutual respect and friendship which grew into love. We'd never expected that, but we'd certainly found plenty of adventure and danger to go along with our romantic partnership. What had I ever done to deserve the love of this fantastic woman?

PJ gave me a puzzled look. "What are you smiling about?"

"I'm just remembering how we met, fell in love instantly, and went on to have great adventures together."

She shook her head. "You've got a few brain cells missing if that's how you recall it. I think I threw a shoe at the mirror in my motel after my first meeting with you. I was that furious."

"Really? I never heard about that."

"You thought I'd seduced your precious protege. Does that refresh your memory?"

"Oh, that. I was afraid Sandy would be no match for your womanly wiles. Little did I know that I, not he, would succumb to your charms."

"More revisionist theories. How did you ever become a world renowned archaeologist with such flawed observational skills?"

"I was obsessed with locating the Amazon tribe. I didn't have time for a love life, especially not after my previous partner had dropped me like a bad habit."

PJ averted her gaze from me to her passenger side window. "Let's not bring up Terry Simms right now. I'm trying to enjoy this beautiful scenery."

"Sorry."

After what I'd been through with Terry during our tempestuous time together and after Terry had nearly raped PJ when we were on assignment in Wales, I had to agree. The scenery was a much safer topic. PJ and I had experienced several dangerous and mysterious adventures after finding Marna and Leeja's remains at that dig site in Arizona. I had known their names from dreams that had haunted me for years during my search. They'd touched our lives in ways we'd never imagined and continued to influence us today. For better or worse, our relationship would include Amazon spirit guides as well as delightful escapes to some of the most beautiful country in the world.

As archaeologists we investigated past civilizations, but PJ and I never expected to go back to a time when we could actually meet and talk to ancestors of our present day discoveries. Our most recent trip to the Greek island of Lesvos had provided such an encounter. We'd also renewed our friendship with my former student, Peter Arnold, or Sandy, as he was known to all his friends. He'd found treasure and Irini Thanos, the love of his life, on the island.

"Okay, Kim. I know New Mexico is the Land of Enchantment and all that, but there's only so much scenery we can admire before we need to get down to business."

I put the Tracker back on the road to the sprawling adobe ranch house. "I was just thinking about our trip to Greece. Sandy and Irini fell in love. Your father and Susanna got married. It was a special time for all of us."

"Sandy and Irini haven't set a date yet, but I bet it won't be long before we go back there for a wedding." PJ's eyes glistened when she looked at me. "Dad and my former psychiatrist. Who would have imagined that? Those sneaks. I love them both, and I'm so happy that Dad has Sue in his life now. He'd been so lonesome after Mom died."

PJ was just a teenager then and both she and Frederick had been devastated. Unfortunately, they grew apart from each other in their grief. Frederick threw himself into his shipping business, amassing a fortune, but paying a hefty price by neglecting his only child. For many years, PJ lived without the love and attention of either parent. They'd mended their estrangement now and PJ welcomed Susanna, or Sue as she'd come to call her, as a true family member.

PJ and I had experienced plenty of highs and lows in our short relationship. I had no idea how our lives as ranch owners would turn out, but I was certain of two things. We'd never be too bored and I'd never stop loving this beautiful, vibrant woman.

The Tracker made a grating sound as it hit a rough rise in the road and I was reminded of our earlier conversation about my use of vehicles.

"What the heck was that noise?"

"Just a small objection to a nasty stretch, honey. Don't worry. The Tracker has been through much worse. It'll survive."

"Have you looked at it lately? It's lost a lot of its luster."

"I don't keep vehicles to have them sit around and look pretty."

"That's for sure. One of these days I'm going to buy you a tank."

"Very funny."

We bumped over the top of the last hill. There, below us, was our private spread.

PJ put her hand on my thigh and I covered her hand with my own.

"It's good to be home to stay this time," I said softly.

"It is, isn't it? We've had only short visits before, and then repair projects took all our energy. This will be home now. Our home. We'll have our hands full, though. Plenty of renovations still to do."

"We'll tackle them as the budget allows." I patted her hand.

"You know that budget could be stretched, if you'd just let me help."

"Haven't we had this conversation before, honey?"

She blew out a breath. "Yes. And it always ends badly. I don't want to argue about it, but you know I have money to use for whatever we need."

"And you know that I don't want to use it. At least not now and not so much. We do what needs to be done to make the place safe and comfortable first. Some of the work we can do on our own, and some we'll hire people to do, but on a budget."

"You have work to do here beside repairs, though."

"If you mean my part of the book that Glenna Rhoderick's working on, that's coming along." Dr. Rhoderick was a respected anthropologist who had asked me to contribute a chapter for a book she was writing about ancient women world leaders. I was sharing my notes and expertise on the Amazon warriors of history and legend. "Are you feeling neglected by my working with Glenna on that project?"

"You and she do have long phone conversations and you've made a few trips to Denver to discuss things."

"Do I hear a bit of jealousy in your voice?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Do I have anything to be jealous about?"

"Of course not. The work's purely professional. Glenna had some health problems recently and she's not been able to use her wrist to do the typing. Some sort of tendon damage, I think she said. Anyway, she's had to wear a cast and it restricts her ability to use her computer. We talk things out on the phone, and I do the typing when she can't. That's all it is, PJ."

"Okay. I believe you and I trust you."

I kissed her. "Good."

"So it's just neglect I'm feeling."

Her grin convinced me she was kidding, but I resolved to devote a bit more attention to her, just in case.

"Don't you have some writing of your own to do?" I reminded her. "This Amazon destiny journal stuff?"

"I'm waiting for guidance on that subject. Grandmother, the old shaman from the Greek Amazon village, is supposed to give me more instructions on what to write and how we go about finding present-day Amazons."

"Ah, yes. Our mission these days is to find more of the Amazon Nation and help to reunite all of them."

"And that includes us. We're part of the Amazon Nation now, though I still can't quite believe that."

We slithered sideways over some loose rock. "First thing I have to do is have this road graded and graveled. I don't want any city folk coming in to visit the wildlife preserve and getting into an accident."

PJ stretched up to kiss me on the cheek.

"What was that all about?"

"Just letting you know how much I love you."

"I love you too. More than anything or anybody."

"And just think, we're coming home with that lawsuit all resolved."

I'd become angry with an aggressive photographer at Logan Airport when we flew to Greece, and I'd broken his camera lens. He'd slapped a lawsuit on me.

"That pushy guy was out to make a bundle," PJ continued, "but Dad's lawyers cut him off at the knees and kicked him to the curb."

"They awarded him replacement cost for his camera and one hundred dollars instead of the fifty thousand he claimed were psychological damages." I was more than pleased with the outcome. "I'm surprised that his lawyers didn't put up more of a fight, though."

"They were smart enough to realize that he'd overstepped his bounds as a reporter, and they were up against a powerful legal team."

"I'm sure glad they were on my side."

PJ appeared to be lost in thought, so we drove the final stretch to the ranch house in silence. It stood facing a sun-drenched valley with panoramic views of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range. The back of the house nestled into the closest of the foothills, making it ideally located—our own Shangri-la, where PJ and I could grow old together.

"You did a pretty cool thing, Kim."

"What's that?"

"Deeding all this acreage to the Wildlife Conservation Organization in Pup's name."

At the sound of his name, our half-wolf, half-German Shepherd stuck his head between the seats. He enjoyed racing around this place, sniffing all the new scents, considering it his personal territory and guarding it accordingly. I don't think he was at all impressed that it was now called The Pup Wildlife Refuge.

He and I had been together since my days at the University of Arizona and he had helped make my life less lonely until a certain blonde beauty stole my heart. Pup had extended his protection and love to both of us, expecting little in return.

"I wasn't running stock on that area or anything, so I figured I may as well put it to good use. It's too beautiful not to share."

"I'm glad you're keeping the immediate area of the house off-limits, though, so we'll still have our privacy."

"That was the deal. We live here for the rest of our lives. Afterwards, in addition to what they already have, they get this section of the valley and the ranch house. They can use the house and out buildings as a visitor center and museum, if they like."

"Perhaps even a lodge for scientists working in the area."

"That, too. It's a sweet deal for them and us, and it keeps our memory alive after we're gone."

We stepped out of the vehicle and let Pup out to explore. PJ pointed to a pair of eagles gliding majestically above us. I felt a slight breeze caress my cheek, a harbinger of fall and the chill that signaled the coming of winter. Soon the eagles would be gone, withdrawing to the south in search of a warmer climate.

"We're home," PJ said, coming around the Tracker to stand beside me. We slipped our arms around each other's waists and filled our lungs with the fresh air.

I gazed at the mountains and the valley in which we stood. "They're right, you know."

"Who?"

"Visitors to New Mexico."

"What are they right about?"

"The light. It has a different quality here in New Mexico than it does anywhere else." I squinted against its clarity. "That's why so many artists and photographers settle in Taos and Santa Fe."

"Georgia O'Keeffe for one."

"I believe you're right."

We broke apart and started toward the house. "Looks like Jasper and Marianne have opened up the house for us," I said.

"Honey, Marianne really prefers to be called Little Bird. It's her Navajo name."

"I know. I guess I should get in the habit of calling her that, but referring to a two hundred pound, tough-as-leather woman as Little Bird isn't easy."

"I realize you've known Jasper and Little Bird longer than I have," PJ said.

"True. They worked for the previous owner and agreed to stay on when I bought the ranch about six years ago."

"Jasper and I are still a little awkward around each other."

"You're not a westerner, PJ. He needs a bit more time to get used to you."

"Little Bird and I have had a chance to talk about cooking and housekeeping. She's really as gentle as a little bird."

"Speak of the devil." I pointed down the road we'd just covered.

A battered, faded black Ford pickup rattled to a stop alongside the Tracker. Jasper, a wiry, gray-haired man climbed down from the truck. His legs were bowed from riding horseback, but there was still plenty of spring in his step.

"Welcome home!" His voice was raspy, but commanding. I thought of all the years he must have spent hollering at cattle, squinting into the sun, searching for strays, which had given him permanently bloodshot eyes. "Wife's got food done up, and she's gotten the ranch all neat and tidy for you."

The passenger side door creaked open, and Little Bird struggled out with a foil covered glass dish. "I knew you girls would be hungry when you arrived, so I fixed a casserole."

Although she was my age, she still insisted on referring to us as girls.

"Thank you, Little Bird. It's good to be back. This time, we intend to stay awhile."

"Yaa' eht' eeh, Little Bird," PJ said.

"Greetings to you, too." By the expression on Little Bird's face, she was amused, but pleased, with PJ's attempt to use a few Navajo words.

PJ took the dish. "You folks talk all you want. I'm hungry."

"All you have to do," Little Bird said, as she and PJ headed for the house, "is put it in the oven for about forty minutes at three-hundred-and-fifty degrees."

Pup bounded further away to renew his acquaintance with old haunts while I engaged Jasper in a discussion about the condition of the road in from the highway. I asked him to get some figures on having it graded and graveled.

"You'd best wait awhile, least 'til spring," he said. "No reason we can't make plans, though."

By the time he and Little Bird left for their nearby home, PJ had lunch in the oven and the table set. We spent the rest of the day and part of the evening unpacking and planning for future improvements to the ranch. Tired, but happy, we showered together, tumbled into bed, and made long, lingering love before drifting off to sleep.

*   *   *

The next morning, I snuggled closer to Kim, reluctant to leave the cocoon of our queen sized bed.

"As exciting as tent life, cave camping, and even our weekend in that wonderful Greek villa were," I whispered against her ear, "there's nothing to compare with coming home."

"Even if it's still being renovated?" Kim's fingers roamed about under my T-shirt, coming to rest on my stomach.

"Yes. Of course, our bedroom is almost perfect. Once we get those blinds hung and order the rugs for in—"

"PJ, sweetheart, we've discussed this already. Our budget will not allow further expenditures for that yet." We turned to view each other eye-to-eye.

"The plumbing and heating come first, then the repairs to the roof, and eventually the back porch. This old ranch—"

"—was in dire need of repair when you bought it. You've mentioned that a few times already." Our fingers intertwined. "But you know I'm only too happy to help remedy the situation. Just say the word, and the money is yours."

I felt Kim's body tense and her lips tightened to a flat line. Money was always a problem. Her resistance was a wall between us. Pride and stubbornness were honorable traits in moderation in most human beings. My partner had more than her fair share. I could make her life so much easier. I wanted to do it for her, for us. I loved her. Couldn't she see that? This was to be my home, too.

"Can we change the subject?"

"I'm sorry. Yes, let's talk about something else." I paused to think of something far from house remodeling. "What did you think about the first board meeting? Are we going to survive as Dad's representatives at the Curtis Foundation now that he's stepping away from so much of it?"

"Honestly, I think I preferred working with the Foundation to secure grants for my expeditions. I've always admired how much the people there wanted to preserve archaeological sites and help with the research necessary. I'd never really wanted to see who was doing the bickering and fighting about how the funds were allocated."

"Mmm. That was a revelation, wasn't it? We were the youngest ones there and even though I've known Malcolm Goodrich since I was a toddler, I'd never realized how ponderous his leadership abilities were. We're going to be as fossilized as those old men and women board members if we have to keep going back."

Kim laughed. "Those two aides they gave us were anything but fossilized, though."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"Lawrence what's-his-face."

"Peterson. He wasn't so bad. Cute actually."

"That's the problem. I watched you smile when you shook his hand. You'd have pounced on him a few years back. Don't deny it."

"I admit that before I met you, when I thought I was a straight gal, I might have found an empty closet and gotten to know him better. He did seem eager to help with my board assignments."

"He was eager to get into your pants, you mean. You only had to give him the go ahead."

"But, I didn't give him any such permission, as you will recall."

"No, you didn't."

"And what about your helper, huh? Heather Bigboobs."

"That's Bowan. Heather Bowan. She appeared to be a bright young woman in the prime of her life. I'm sure she'll prove to be quite efficient as my assistant."

"She's only too willing to assist you, my dear. One snap of your fingers and she'd rub herself up one side of you and down the other. And if she ever did that, I'd be forced to kill her."

Kim brought our hands toward her lips. Slowly, she took each of my fingers into her mouth, letting her tongue moisten them, effectively ending my heated words, starting a rather warm response from me of an entirely different nature.

Fortunately, we were both quite adept at forgetting our previous discussion in light of this more desirable distraction.

Pup stood and whined politely at the foot of the bed, at a very inconvenient time, however.

Kim blew out a hefty sigh. "Right at the top of my To Do List is to grab a saw and make him a doggie door."

I pulled her to me for one final passionate kiss. "Kimmy the carpenter. My heroine. Plan on a Dutch door, okay? Anything else will be too small for our Pup."

"Little one, you need a shower." She pulled my T-shirt over my head.

"So do you. You're a bit sweaty."

"How could that have happened? And I suppose we'll have to conserve water until the new heater is installed. Got any ideas?" She lowered her head and licked a trail between my breasts, making me shiver.

"Ooh. You could continue to lick me clean."

"Uh-huh."

"But that might take a while."

"I'd be willing to make the effort, but my tongue would give out way too soon." To illustrate, she let her tongue droop from the side of her mouth.

"And we wouldn't want that."

"No." She pulled the appendage in question almost all the way back. Just the tip showed between her teeth.

"I suppose we could just force ourselves to shower together. Again." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay." She popped out of bed, patted the anxious Pup, and started to drag me out from under the covers.

"Wait! Kimmy, please. Let poor Pup out. I'll start the shower and get the loofah. Okay?"

Kim slipped into her robe and headed to the back door with Pup racing in front of her. "Loo-fah! Loo-fah!" she called as they moved down the hallway. "I loo-fah you, PJ!"

"I loo-fah you, too," I said, heading for the bathroom, knowing she couldn't hear me from this distance. "You big, adorable goof."

Chapter 2

"Happy Birthday to you," I crooned, tickling Kim's jaw with my finger. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

"Ugh! It is, isn't it? Why do you have to be so cheerful about it?" After a second or two, she whipped the covers back down. "But since it is now, officially, my birthday, I get to find out what the surprise is. It can't be your singing. That was painful."

"Hey! Just for that crack, you can wait until lunch for your surprise."

"No! Come here." She kissed me on the nose. "I didn't mean it. You sing wonderfully."

"Yeah, right."

"Now where's my surprise?"

"What makes you think there is one, Miss Smart Ass?"

"Last night you got a phone call which you took great care to hide from me. It was from a Mr. Henry and I heard the words 'Albuquerque' and 'Safari kit' mentioned."

"That could mean anything."

"And then, I heard you get up early this morning, leaving me to sleep in." She glanced at her watch. "Yikes. Eight forty-five. That's incredible."

I sat on the edge of our bed. "Okay, Nancy Drew. Or should I call you Kate Delafield? I'll admit there is a surprise for your birthday. It's here on the ranch and you will find a big clue hidden some place on me."

"What?"

"Kimmy, are you sure you're awake?"

"Okay, okay. I heard, but I didn't quite get it. On you? You mean like jewelry? You're wearing my gift?"

"Sort of."

She checked my hands for any extra rings or bracelets, and then pulled me toward her by my shirt collar.

"Whoa,  easy there, tiger.  No  ripping and tearing." As  I rearranged myself, Kim sat up, sliding her legs out from the covers. "You must conduct a civilized search."

"Now you're talking. I get to unwrap my birthday present."

She tugged at my shirt's buttons, stripped the garment from my shoulders, and let it fall onto the bed.

"Hmm. The only thing around your neck is one of the Amazon medallions we found in the Superstitions. Can't be anything new with that."

"Nope. Same old, same old. I have one, you have one, and they sometimes get warm and help us communicate with other Amazons."

"I'm not saying they're not unique, just not part of my present."

"You're correct on all counts."

She slid one bra strap off my shoulder, then the other. "A sexy red number here, meant to distract me from my work, no doubt. Ah, maybe between..."

Two fingers probed my cleavage, making me giggle.

"There's nothing in there but the usual." I said, batting my eyelashes to appear coy.

"So you say, but how do I know for certain?"

"You could take my word for it."

"I could." She reached around my back and unhooked my bra, tossing it over her shoulder. "But I believe in being thorough."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Kim stared at my chest for a few seconds. I watched her mouth slowly work its way into that familiar come hither expression.

"Well?"

"You're right, nothing I haven't already seen."

The gleam in her eyes forced me to swallow. "You do remember the reason you're undressing me?"

"Of course, though I am getting a bit distracted."

"And I'm getting a bit cold. Somehow, I thought you'd go faster."

"Okay. Stand up."

I climbed off the bed and she rose with me. Wordlessly, she unzipped my jeans, pushing them carefully down over my hips. "Ooh. Red panties to match." Then, she stopped.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Your jeans won't come off because of your hiking boots."

"Whatever will you do to fix that?"

"Sit."

"Stand up, sit down. Make up your mind, Kimmy."

"Hey. My birthday, remember? We do it my way."

I sat again. She removed my boots and rid me of my jeans after investigating the interior of each pocket.

"My, you are thorough."

I leaned back against Kim's pillow, clad only in red bikini panties and a pair of thick white socks.

"You'd better believe it," she said, subjecting my navel to intense scrutiny.

I folded my arms across my chest trying not to shiver.

"Well, not much left, but the view is stunning."

I felt a blush heat my cheeks and neck.

"PJ, can I ask you a question?"

"It's your birthday."

"Yes, but you made up this game."

"I know, and so far, it's going just as I figured it would."

"How do I ask this delicately? This present will be in plain sight, right? I mean, I won't have to go poking or probing around for it?"

I could feel myself blushing in full force. "No, geez. You won't have to do that."

She sighed. "Too bad."

"Kim!"

She dismissed my comment with a wave of her hand. "Still, those panties will have to go, just on general principle."

"As you wish." I lifted my butt so she could work them off.

Kim whistled softly and turned me over, patting my rear end and kissing my shamrock tattoo. "This is the best present I ever got to unwrap, even if I never find it."

"I'm glad you like it." I rolled back to face her and sat up. "You still have a couple of places to search."

"And you're getting goose bumps waiting for me." She pulled the blanket up around my shoulders and then tried to decide which sock to remove first.

"Ah ha!" On my left foot, she discovered an ankle bracelet with a key attached.

"Gee, you got it on your first try."

"Okay, it's a key. And it's big enough to fit the ignition of a car or boat."

"Or a tank."

"Two letters embossed real big. R R. Holy cow! You got me a Rolls Royce for my birthday?"

"Remember, you said you didn't keep cars around to look pretty. What would you do with a Rolls?"

"Yeah, I guess I'd be too rough on it." The blood drained from her face. "Oh, my God. You didn't."

"I think I did."

She snatched me up, blanket and all, squeezing me until I squeaked. "Where is it?"

"The barn."

She raced into her shoes, threw on a robe, and grabbed her jacket. "Hurry up. Get some clothes on, woman."

"Geez, you get bossier with every birthday." I climbed into my clothes, found a jacket and ran after her, feeling a happy glow warming my insides.

****

"It's so much better than a Rolls, honey."

"That's a relief."

"Ever since our trip to Wales, I've wanted one of my own."

"You like it? Really?"

"A shiny new Range Rover! Are you kidding? I love it." She grabbed me, crushing my lips with a potentially lethal kiss. "I love you so much. Thank you. Oh, my goodness, thank you."

"You're welcome. I love you too."

We both stared at the gleaming vehicle. "Even though it's not brand new, it's still impressive," I said. I had a hunch that, in her frugality, she'd never accept a brand new vehicle, and so far, my hunch was paying off. I was unable to resist listing some of its attributes. "The exterior color is called Maya gold and the interior is sand with burled walnut trim."

"It's beautiful," Kim said.

"And for your listening pleasure, seven-hundred-and-ten watt surround sound system with fourteen speakers."

She opened the driver's side door and peeked inside. "I'll take your word for it. All this leather smells fantastic."

"The seats and steering wheel are covered in it. There's also a personal telephone integrated system with hands-free capability." Excellent idea. You never know when you might want to use our hands for other purposes." She grabbed my waist and started tickling my ribs.

"Kim, your hands need to be free for driving. Both hands need to be on the wheel."

"Oh, sure."

"At all times."

She ignored me and pointed to the center of the dash. "What's with the screen?"

"It's a navigation system. The GPS program is located there and all the 4-wheel drive graphics in a display that's three-point-five times higher resolution than the LCD screens in previous models."

Kim turned to me. "I'm getting turned on just listening to this."

I held up my hand. "If you'd let me finish, I want to add that the driver can use a variety of hard and soft buttons to control all of the displays."

"And I know just where to find all the hard and soft buttons," Kim said, giving my hip a jab. "That's a hard one right there."

"Stop it. I'm trying to be serious."

"Oh, me too." She prodded my belly. "And there's a soft button."

I moved out of reach. "I guess, from the way you're carrying on, you're happy with your gift."

"I am. It's way beyond my wildest dreams, but then so are you."

"Aw."

"Come here." We shared a slow, pleasurable kiss.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We gazed at each other for a few seconds until Kim caught sight of a large, tarp-covered object behind me in the corner of the barn. She wandered over to it. "What have we here?"

"Oh that. I can explain."

The tarp slid through her hands to the floor. "A shiny red Jeep Wrangler. Where did this come from?"

"When I was shopping for the Rover, this cute little Jeep kept sparkling and shining at me, practically begging me to take it home."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. And I do need something reliable to drive when I go to lectures. It even has a winch and an off-road light bar."

"What happened to the Tracker? And the old wreck of a Jeep?"

"Mr. Henry took both of them away when he delivered the Rover and the Wrangler."

"What?" Kim's happy mood faded momentarily.

"It was time for them to go to that big auto graveyard in the sky."

She went quiet for a few seconds. "PJ, this is insane. We can't afford this. You know we talked about it. You shouldn't have spent so much money. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to spoil your obvious joy, or mine either, but that Rover has to cost around sixty or seventy thousand dollars."

"Eighty-nine, I believe."

"God! That's way too much. I can't let you do it."

"I knew you would say that, but just listen to me, okay?"

She leaned her arm on my shoulder, while rubbing the driver's side door gently. "Okay."

Look at that, they're bonding already.

"I didn't buy them. The Curtis Foundation is leasing them. They're for use by us or any other employees while working here in the southwest. I'll show you the paperwork, but I consulted with David Carpenter, Dad's chief financial advisor, and he said it was a good deal."

"Oh," she said, pausing to let it sink in. "You didn't buy either vehicle?"

"No."

"But I still get to, that is, we still get to use both vehicles?"

"Yes, as long as we're here working for the Foundation. Call it a perk."

It was hard for me to compromise when I wanted to buy her the newest and best of everything because I loved her. I felt she deserved it, and I could afford it. But I had to walk a fine line between extravagance and expedience for Kim's sake.

She opened the back door and hustled me inside. "In that case, there's just one thing left to do." She leaned across me to close the door and adjusted the reclining backseat.

"What?"

"Think back to Wales. One of the few happy moments we had from that trip. Remember the rainy afternoon we drove out into the country and found the secluded cove and one thing led to another?"

"We're going to christen the new Rover just like we did the rented one?"

She stroked my cheek. "I knew you weren't just another pretty face with a gorgeous body attached." Moist kisses heated my neck. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt. "All this leather is acting like an aphrodisiac. Let's see how fast we can fog up these windows."

I removed Kim's shirt and gave her throat some passionate attention. Our lips met and lingered, mouths parting for a slippery game of tongue tag. The leather seats under our bodies warmed perceptibly.

"So, you like your birthday gift? It was a nice surprise?"

"I love it. Best surprise I ever got. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to undress you again, even if there's no present waiting for me to find."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that. I just might be able to manage something new to give you."

It wasn't long before I was naked again, and I didn't have to worry about goose bumps or shivering. My body was quite warm. I'd say it was the heated seats—just one of the little details in the Range Rover tradition of automotive excellence—but the engine wasn't even turned on. The passengers were, however, so the windows steamed up rapidly.

Chapter 3

"Professor Jamison, members of the University of New Mexico Anthropology Department, students and guests, thank you for the opportunity to speak to you tonight." I paused and looked around the lecture hall at the audience of college students and adults, gathered for my talk on recent developments in the field of archaeology.

I wished once again that Kim had been the one to make this trip and deliver this speech, but talks with her editor and a looming deadline prevented it. We'd discussed my ability to substitute for her and she decided that Tyler Jamison's request would be an excellent baptism of fire for me. In Kim's words, I "could recite the party line" as easily as she could. According to her, every talk was basically a pitch for funds, volunteers, or both, so I should get out there and smile a lot while I do it. It's hard to talk and smile at the same time, I soon discovered, so I figured I'd empathize with my audience, instead.

"You know, it wasn't too long ago that I was in your position, forced to attend lectures by some boring, stuffed-shirt PhD, as he or she droned on about how exciting archaeology was. Now, I'm one of those boring stuffed shirts." A bit of laughter greeted my words. "And you know what? It really is an exciting field. Those of you in the doctoral program have chosen to involve yourselves in a fascinating career. I hope you've also developed a sub-specialty in which to focus your talents. Contrary to popular belief, there's a whole lot more to archaeology these days than grubbing in the dirt. Since I left Boston University, I've learned that today's archaeologist needs a team of specialists working with him, or her."

I walked out from behind the podium and clicked the remote control to dim the lights and turn on the slide projection system. As the first aerial view of Lesvos came into brilliant focus, a murmur spread through the crowd. My own heartbeat quickened as I remembered the island of Lesvos and the specific site where Kim and I spent months helping Sandy uncover his treasure inside a labyrinth.

A group photo of our team flashed on the screen, and I identified the individual members and their areas of expertise. "Archaeological research is truly interdisciplinary in scope. Today's dig site often requires experts in the fields of botany, forestry, soil science, hydrology, architectural engineering, and forensic anthropology, to name a few.

"This photo, showing my colleague, Dr. Kimberly Blair, and me, was taken on the site of Dr. Peter Arnold's discovery on the Greek island of Lesvos." I advanced the slides to show several views of the labyrinth and its treasure-laden storeroom. Low whistles showed how impressed some of my listeners were with the amount of riches depicted. One woman in particular, seated toward the back, appeared to be extremely interested in the accumulation of artifacts. As she leaned over the empty seat in front of her to get a better view, I felt a funny sensation along my spine. Perhaps we'd met somewhere, on an excavation or at a conference. I'd make a point to speak with her after my talk.

"I don't want to give you the wrong idea," I said, letting my gaze sweep across the audience. "Not every expedition meets with such success. Not every project is as exciting Sometimes months of scratching in the dirt yield little in the way of results. Not every search produces such a variety of artifacts. This site is still active and will remain so for years, and once all the finds have been classified and catalogued, Dr. Arnold, or Sandy, as he's known to his friends, will probably establish a museum at the location. The Curtis Foundation, a philanthropic organization that fosters worldwide archaeological research and discovery, will partner with him to display this remarkable discovery to its fullest."

My talk and slides moved on to other expeditions in other parts of the world, and then returned to our own state and Chaco Canyon. "Right here in New Mexico, monumental sites exist that have provided scientists and tourists with fascinating glimpses into the lives of past inhabitants. The Ancestral Puebloans, formerly known as the Anasazi, made Pueblo Bonito their home and used these massive structures as living quarters, and performed ceremonies in these great kivas for hundreds of years. We're provided with a generous helping of mystery and intrigue as we try to uncover their heritage and explain their daily lives. As you can see by these shots, supplied by the Chaco Canyon Historical Park, several sections of this vast ruin are deteriorating. Sand, wind, and rain have attacked the fine masonry. Vandals have destroyed and defaced walls, removed artifacts, and otherwise compromised the integrity of the original sites.

"I am here, today, to spread the message of the Chaco Preservation Society. Your own campus houses a vast collection of Chaco artifacts, so it's only fitting that you be the first to hear about our plans. The Curtis Foundation will partner with the CPS, and pledges to help save this historic area. Through fund-raising and volunteer restoration efforts, we will aid in reclaiming, repairing, and restoring the canyon, especially some of the outlying areas, those that have received little or no attention. I hope we can count on your support as well. We need help from every sector in whatever ways you can offer it.

"In closing, I'd like to echo some of the great Indian leaders of the region in stressing the need for preserving the soil, trees, mountains, rivers, and valleys of this area. These natural resources were here long before we were born and they must remain for generations to come. Several places are held sacred to the Indians, but those places won't stay that way without our intervention. Thank you."

Professor Jamison rose to clasp my hand and nod his approval as the audience applauded. As speeches go, it was a bit stuffy, but I think my subject matter was interesting enough.

When the lights came up in the auditorium, I scanned the seats for a better look at the woman from the back row, but I couldn't see her anywhere. We moved to the reception area for refreshments and informal questions. Forty minutes later, with contributions, pledges, and a list of possible volunteers, I climbed wearily into the Jeep Wrangler and turned the wheels toward home and Kim.

*   *   *

Pup greeted me at the side door. I scratched his neck and ears while he writhed and whimpered in delight. After a quick trip outside to relieve himself, he escorted me to our bedroom, crawled into his large pet bed, yawned and went to sleep.

Kim had left the nightlight on in the bathroom. I peeled off my clothing and took a quick shower. Clad in a comfortable over-sized T-shirt, I padded to my side of the bed and slipped between the sheets. Kim rolled over to snuggle against my back. Her mouth nuzzled my neck, and one hand cupped my breast through the shirt fabric.

"That you, PJ?"

"Who else would be climbing into your bed and letting you take liberties with her at this ungodly hour?"

"I dunno, but you smell good. Love that raspberry soap." She kissed my neck just below my ear. Her hand wriggled underneath my shirt. "Feel good, too."

My breath caught. "Now, don't start anything you aren't prepared to finish."

"Point taken," she said, parking her hand on my stomach. "How did it go?"

"Okay, I guess. Jamison was distressed at not seeing you again. When I left, he asked me to give you his best and called you a living legend. So you should've been the one to talk to them. You're the one with the vast reputation."

Kim snorted and her fingers stroked my abdomen. "I've got a reputation all right, but as for the legend part..."

I slapped lightly at her hand. "I mean in the field of archaeology, silly."

"Oh, yeah, that too." Her warm fingers worked their magic along my ribcage. If I were a cat, I'd be purring. "Come on, I bet you did just fine."

"I tried."

"Did you get volunteers?"

"Seven."

"There you go."

"And two hundred dollars in contributions with almost a thousand in pledges."

"You're a regular hustler."

I turned my body into hers, tucking my head under her chin, wrapping my arm part way around her waist. "They have new pictures in their gallery now. I saw a poster when I was going into the lecture hall. We'll have to take a look the next time we're in Albuquerque."

"Sounds like fun."

"Remember the petroglyphs we saw when we went to Chaco Canyon last year?"

"Uh-huh. Some were supposed to resemble animals like sheep and you liked the spirals. There were lots of them."

"Someone from the university's made a study of the glyphs using a special technique. They looked practically three dimensional."

"Wow. Is that what the exhibit's going to be about?"

"That's what the poster said."

"We'll have to see that. Maybe it'll teach this old gal some new tricks."

"You're far from old, Doc, but it's the wave of the future. We'll have to catch onto it, or be reduced to making fancy speeches and begging for causes." A yawn caught me off guard.

"Let's get some sleep. You can tell me all about the sad state of old-timers in our profession in the morning."

"It's true. We'll soon be relegated to sitting behind our computers making electronic calculations. We'll create three dimensional graphics instead of sifting through actual dirt and probing the sites with our trusty tools. The good part is that we won't destroy the sites in order to discover anything."

"But, you'll miss the hands-on approach?"

"Sure. Won't you? You've been at it longer than I have."

"Don't remind me. Another birthday has come and gone. Now, for the next seven months, I'll be fourteen years older than you rather than thirteen."

"Age is just a number. We're not going to rehash your feelings about being a burden to me, are we?"

"I think I'm too tired right now to worry about my personal future."

"Good. I am, too."

"And I'm not worried about my archaeological future right now, either."

"You aren't?" I raised my head to look at her in the faint light of our bedroom.

"Nope." She laughed. "My trowel is still smaller than yours."

"Oh, you," I laughed and squeezed her hard. It had been a competition between us for months, comparing the size of our trowels at the end of each project. Kim's had always been smaller than mine because she'd been in the field longer. I'd hoped to narrow the gap between us some day. She was right. If we went on fewer and fewer excavations in the future, I'd never catch up, and she'd never let me forget it.

"Sorry, PJ, it's always been a badge of honor to have the most worn down tools. Maybe now, though, it won't be such an achievement. Maybe the new breed of archaeologist will use different tools, starting with the mind."

"If that's the case, I'm still going to be far behind you." I kissed her.

"You're so good for my ego." She brushed the hair off my forehead. "Sleep now."

We settled against each other. "I love you, Kimmy."

"Love you, too. Always."

Chapter 4

One morning during the second week of December, Kim and I enjoyed a rare, leisurely breakfast together. The weather had turned colder, forcing us to make our daily walks or runs shorter. Pup had joined us on these jaunts, but often roamed the property on missions of his own, delighting in discovering an assortment of buried treasure. Apparently, the previous owner disposed of his worn out vehicles and parts by digging shallow graves for them near the barn and covering them with dirt and debris. With Pup's help, we'd already uncovered hubcaps, a radiator, and several bumpers. Future plans included excavating all that junk, disposing of it, and planting a garden over the burial mounds.

Basking in the comfort of this free time, I poured myself a second cup of Earl Grey. I had no speaking engagements or trips scheduled until after Christmas, so I extended my usual hasty breakfast with an extra slice of toast, slathered on a thick layer of preserves, and sipped my tea. My brain worked overtime, tallying up the presents I had purchased, and the most important one I hadn't. Kim's. What could I get that she'd like, but not berate me for spending too much on?

"Jesus! That's awful." Kim had her head buried in the weekly edition of The Santa Fe Reporter.

"What is?"

"There's an article here about animal abuse. What a scumbag."

"You've been watching America's Most Wanted again, haven't you?"

She looked up at me. "What?"

"Your vocabulary. It's pure John Walsh."

"I'm afraid the word fits. In a town near Albuquerque, some sorry excuse for a human being painted a cat's ears red and set the poor thing on fire."

"Jesus. What a lowlife piece-of-crud. Did it survive?"

She lowered the paper to show me the picture. "Yes. It lost most of its ears, but still seems remarkably friendly around people."

"That just goes to show you that animals have way more class than humans." By now I'd snatched the paper away from Kim and was reading the full article. "Says here, it was taken to an animal sanctuary just outside Santa Fe."

"I've heard of the place. They take in abused or injured dogs, cats, and some other animals, care for them, and try to place them in good homes." She put her hand over mine and our eyes locked.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That Pup needs a feline companion. Maybe a feisty sidekick." At the mention of his name, our four-legged family member's ears twitched. He sat up, rested his chin on my knee, and thumped his tail against the hardwood floor.

Kim put her empty mug in the sink and headed for the study.

"I'll check out their website and get directions."

"Okay. I'll take Pup for a quick trip outside to let him do his business. The article says to leave your own pets at home if you visit." I ran my fingers along his sleek, dark back. "Sorry, sweetie. You have to stay here while we go get you a buddy. Would you like a new friend?" His whine was non-committal, but he perked up as soon as I found his leash.

"I'm afraid we can't adopt Burnie," Kim said when Pup and I returned. "He found a home yesterday."

"Burnie? Oh, I get it. That's cute, in a morbid sort of way." A wave of sadness swept over me. "That's good for him, anyway. I hope he has a very happy new life."

Kim wrapped her arms around me. "You're disappointed?"

"Yeah."

"They have a couple of females, though, who were abandoned in a dumpster a few months ago."

"Cripes! What's the world coming to?"

"Sickening, isn't it?"

I nuzzled her neck, planting several wet kisses against her cheek. "So, you got the directions?"

"Yup. And I called and put a hold on the dumpster duo."

"Charming name for the poor things." We rocked back and forth, still holding each other. "Sisters, you say?"

"Litter mates, they think. I saw their pictures on the website. One is black with white markings, and the other is a calico. Spayed already. A sassy looking pair."

"Great. They'll fit right in." I broke away from her to collect my shoulder bag. "Let's go. I love them already."

She gathered her coat and the keys to the Rover. "I haven't really decided what to get you for Christmas. Would you like these two kitties to be our gift to each other?"

"Sounds like a fantastic idea," I said after a second or two of thought. "I'll even let you name them."

"Shoot. Why do I get all the hard jobs?"

We hurried to the barn which housed our vehicles, Jasper's old truck, and Little Bird's ancient Pontiac Trans Am.

"Don't worry," I said, climbing into the passenger side of the Rover, "I'll help you. We can have a few names ready by the time we get there and make a final decision once we see them."

*   *   *

It took no time at all for PJ to fall in love with the dumpster duo and we agreed to adopt them, but she wanted to take all the other used and abused animals as well during the two hours we spent at the shelter.

"Darling, we're away so much," I said, attempting to tone down her enthusiasm. "It wouldn't be fair to Jasper and Little Bird if we had too many animals for them to take care of every time we're gone. Two more is enough."

"It's just that I love them all." She moved from cage to cage, pushing her fingers through the bars and talking in low, soothing tones, eliciting the most robust of purring from the inmates.

When the shelter assistant went into the office to finalize the paper work, I hugged PJ. "You have so much love to share that sometimes it frightens me."

"No need to be frightened." She gave me one of her wonderful lopsided grins.

"Maybe not, but I often wonder if I deserve you."

PJ pressed her index finger to my lips. "Don't talk like that."

We met with the shelter manager, a middle-aged woman who appeared to take her duties seriously. "Just a few formalities," she said, handing us each another form to read over and sign. "Then you can take your new family members home."

With the paperwork completed, we were ushered into a small lobby area where the assistant was waiting with our new housemates. It was obvious this woman loved her furry charges. I was sure she had tears in her eyes when she handed us two perforated cartons containing the dumpster duo who were indignantly voicing their opinions on separation and confinement.

"We'll take good care of them," PJ said, hugging the woman. "You may come visit them whenever you like." She tore off another check and handed it to the woman. "I didn't want it to influence the adoption, but I'd like to make a contribution to your organization."

The woman looked surprised, but recovered. "Thank you so much." She glanced at the slip of paper. "My goodness. This is for five thousand dollars."

"I hope it'll help," PJ said.

"Are you kidding? It's a godsend. You can be sure that one hundred percent of it'll go the animals. Bless you. Bless you both." She gave us hugs and helped us load the cat containers in to the Rover.

That's my PJ, I thought, as we drove home. So much love to share.

*   *   *

"I'd better go in and talk to Pup before you introduce Cleo Catra and Jackie Mew-Veeay. I'm sure he'll be all right with them, but I don't want anyone hurt."

"Good thinking," PJ said, before crooning to our new family members. "Hey, sweet darlings, you're so adorable."

Pup greeted me with his usual enthusiasm. Instead of letting him out, I sat in my chair and scratched his ears. "Pup, you know I love you, don't you? You know that PJ loves you, too. You're the alpha male in this house. We depend on you to take care of us. No one will ever take your place." Pup fixed his golden eyes on me, understanding at least the praise in my voice, if not the actual meaning of my words.

"Remember when you first met PJ, and she was terrified because you looked so big and powerful, but you made her love you as much as I loved you. You had two females to look after, and you did it so well." Pup issued the little growl he reserved for those times when he sensed he'd done something right. "Now we want to introduce you to two more little ladies who're looking for a good home and someone just like you to take care of them." I petted his sleek back, but leashed him before calling out, "Okay, bring them in."

PJ put the pet carriers on the floor about four feet away from him. She didn't let the kitties out despite their frantic mewing. Pup growled and tugged a little on his tight leash.

"Hey, now," I said, "remember our little talk. Cleo and Jackie need you to take care of them, too." Pup lay down, his eyes firmly fixed on the cartons. I nodded to PJ.

She opened one box slowly and took Cleo into her arms. Jackie, the more cautious of the two, shrank back into the confines of her carrier. She eyed Pup with some trepidation. When she exited the carrier, she flattened herself against the floor before creeping toward a puzzled and immobile Pup. I slackened the leash, giving him room to move, but kept a firm grip, ready to pull back if necessary. Pup made no move to approach the now-curious kitty.

PJ put Cleo down. Without hesitation, she marched up to Pup and swiped his nose with her paw. Pup's cry was either the result of the momentary sting of Cleo's claws or complete surprise at this smaller animal's attack. He dropped into a submissive position. PJ and I stared in disbelief at our usually brave and fearless animal. Before we could do anything, Jackie rushed in to play with Pup's tail. He turned his head to see what manner of creature had become so familiar.

"I think they're going to be okay," PJ said. "We're now a family of five."

"Yes, and these two are going to be into everything." I released Pup from the leash. He watched the two kitties, obviously mindful of little stinging claws.

"Keep an eye on them," I said, "while I go and unload the cat and dog food." When I returned several minutes later, Pup had retired to the corner of the room for a nap. Jackie and Cleo were nestled as close to him as they could get.

"They're fine," I said. "Looks like the introductions exhausted all three of them. Let's fix some lunch. When those two gals wake up, they'll be hell on wheels."

"Yeah, Pup has earned that leather chew bone we bought for him."

We set out plates, bread, and lunch meat. PJ turned to me. "I'm so happy to be living here with you and Pup, and now Cleo and Jackie. We have the perfect family."

I took her into my arms and held her. "Indeed we do."

Our kiss was interrupted when Jackie, rushing into the kitchen, slid on the polished wood floor. The more she scrambled to regain her footing, the more she slid around, until she was an out of control bundle of fur and legs. Cleo's mad dash sent a scatter rug flying.

After all that, Pup came and stood in the doorway. "Did I just see him shake his head?"

"I think you did, Kim. And can you blame him?"

Chapter 5

Kim and I slipped into a booth at Tio Tomas, our favorite cafe in Santa Fe. It was a small, cozy, faux adobe style building located on Cerrillos Road, offering inexpensive local cuisine and friendly hospitality.

Rita, the petite owner, approached with menus. "Hola, you two. Do you need these, or will it be the usual?"

Kim looked at me. "The usual, por favor."

"Si. Lo mismo," I echoed.

Our favorite entree was The Santa Fe Trail Steak, smothered with chiles and grilled onions. We ordered Corona Extras to drink with it. The only question was which kind of chile peppers to have on our steaks.

"Red or green?" Rita asked, predictably.

"Make mine 'Christmas' since it's only a few days away," I said.

Kim ordered the same.

"You got it." Rita hurried away to get our drinks.

Kim's brow furrowed. "Are you sure you can handle green peppers as well as red ones? That's hot stuff, you know."

"Oh, I can handle hot stuff." I gave her shin a tap with my boot. "I handle you, don't I?"

"Whoa. Such feisty talk. I didn't realize I was so difficult."

"You can be a handful," I said, making us both smile. "But I'm just getting into the Christmas spirit. It's a treat to see more of you now that your rough draft is finished."

Rita brought our beer and a plate of nachos. We sipped and ate in silence. I took a mental inventory of my purchases and tried to recall if I'd missed anybody. As impossible as it seemed, I thought I was finished buying gifts.

"So, are we finished with our holiday shopping?"

"Probably," I said, as our sizzling steaks arrived.

"Gracias, Rita," we murmured in unison.

"De nada, chicas. Enjoy." She left us to attend to other customers.

The green chiles were more than hot, they were explosive. In seconds my nose and eyes were watering. "Wow!" I opened my mouth to fan cool air into it, and took several gulps of the cold Mexican beer.

"What were you saying about handling the hot stuff?" Kim tried to cover her smirk.

Rita arrived before I could think of a scathing retort.

"Do you need anything else?"

We laughed because the portions were always so big there was usually no room for more. I did have one request, though.

"Agua! Water, please, and lots of it."

"I was about to say that your Spanish is improving, PJ, but I see you need relief from the chiles verdes right now. No?"

"Si." I felt my face heating.

She quickly placed a basket of crackers and extra tortillas in front of me. "These work best. Chewing on them should help." As she slipped our bill on the table between us, she said, "Feliz Navidad.”

"Thanks, Rita, same to you." Kim picked up the bill and checked the total. It was a habit from her undergraduate days of pinching pennies. I busied myself putting out the raging fire in my throat.

"Will we see you Christmas Eve at the Farolitos?" Kim asked, opening her wallet.

"Of course. Miguel and I never miss the stroll along Canyon Road to see them. You will love all the glowing candles on the walls and roofs, the hot cider, and the carol singing."

She took Kim's payment and we finished our drinks. Wishing her Merry Christmas once more, we stepped out into the clear, crisp air, clambered into the Rover, and drove toward home.

"You know, Jasper and Little Bird are cooking Christmas dinner for us at their place, so I asked them to come over on Christmas Eve. We can all go on the Farolitos Walk together. Is that okay with you?"

Kim steered with her left hand and used her right to squeeze my thigh. "Of course, honey. We can serve them eggnog and cookies." Her eyes sparkled. "The place will be completely decorated by then, and the artificial tree with all its unbreakable ornaments will be up."

"It's looking a lot like Christmas already."

"You know I've never been much on celebrating the holidays. I've never had a good reason." She captured my hand and held on. "That's all changed now that I have you and Pup and the kitties. Christmas at the ranch, with all the changes and all the decorations, should be really great."

"Don't forget the holly and greens I bought today for the windowsills and bookshelves."

We stopped for a red light. Keeping her eyes on the signal, Kim managed a throaty chuckle. "Uh-huh, and the large quantity of mistletoe for the doorways."

"I didn't think you noticed that."

"I try not to miss much, if it involves me. Mistletoe just might."

"That's the idea, most observant one."

We grinned at each other until the light turned green and Kim concentrated on her driving.

"It's plastic, though, so we don't have to worry about the animals chewing on anything poisonous."

"How would they ever get to it? On second thought, if there's a way, Cleo will figure it out. I never saw a cat get into so much mischief."

"You have to admit that they're great. It's been wonderful having them, hasn't it?"

"I can't imagine life without them," Kim said. "And Pup is over his initial shock. He loves them as much as we do."

We pulled onto our private driveway and stopped near the front door to unload the Rover. Pup came out to greet us and the cats slinked out as far as the doorway. When Pup had calmed down, and no food materialized, Cleo and Jackie turned around and resumed their own agendas.

We carried our purchases inside, and I detected a faint lemon scent in the hallway.

"Little Bird's already finished cleaning. Watch your feet, everyone."

Kim sniffed the air. "Not only has she finished cleaning, but I believe she's baking something fantastic."

We stacked our purchases on the table in the hallway and followed our noses to the kitchen. Little Bird was taking a batch of Christmas cookies out of the oven.

"Careful. They're hot."

Kim ignored her and coaxed a cookie from the tray and into her mouth."

"Mmm. Ah..." She hopped around, licking her fingers, fanning her mouth.

"What did I tell you?" Little Bird stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head.

"Oh, but they're so good." Kim opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water to cool her lips. She grinned at Little Bird. "Well worth a little pain."

We parked ourselves around the large oak kitchen table and sampled some shortbreads and sugar cookies. Kim finished her bottle of water while Little Bird and I sipped some hot Earl Grey. We let Pup try a tiny bite of cookie and then encouraged him to snack on his own supply of kibble. Before Little Bird left for the day, we finalized our plans with her for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Kim put on some holiday music and we moved into the dining area and living room to finish hanging the last of our decorations. Glowing embers in the living room's kiva fireplace created a cozy atmosphere. We stretched out on the sofa under a soft Pendleton blanket. Pup and the cats found comfortable spots near the hearth and went to sleep.

We delayed our dinner for several hours because of our large meal at Tio Tomas. Napping together on the sofa under a blanket seemed like a much better alternative. Eventually, my stomach rumbling grew too noisy to ignore, and I padded into the kitchen, put the chicken enchiladas Little Bird had left for us into the oven to reheat, and set the timer. Pup and the girls followed me, whining and whimpering enough to force a replenishment of their food and water supply. Pup needed to go outside after that, and I set the kitchen table while I waited for him to return. Once the animals were settled, I returned to Kim's side, trying not to wake her. With a contented sigh, she drew my body against hers and we snuggled together, letting our stockinged feet protrude from the bottom of the blanket.

"Are you asleep?" I asked after what I thought was a few minutes.

"Yes."

I kissed her cheek and chin. "Aren't you the funny one?"

"I try to be, every now and then. What is it?" I could tell from her slow speech that she was still drowsy.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've never been happier or more content than I am right now. Being with you, loving you, and living on this ranch... it's heavenly."

She angled her head and we shared a thorough kiss. "Having you here makes my life complete. I've always loved this ranch, but it just wasn't a home until you came here to live with me. Loving you and having you return my love makes me the happiest woman alive."

"Aw. Who's this hopeless romantic? And what have you done with Kim?"

"Hey!"

"I'm only kidding. It's wonderful to hear you say that. We may have our disagreements, but all in all, I'd say this marriage is a total success. You've such a romantic soul." I nipped her lower lip and she growled. "Sometimes, when I kiss you, Kimmy, I swear I hear bells ringing."

"That's the kitchen timer. Our dinner's ready."

"That was a short twenty minutes."

I got up and pulled her toward the back of the house. When we reached the doorway into the kitchen, I pointed upward. "Look at that. It's mistletoe."

Kim shook her head. "Doesn't count. It's plastic."

"Sure it does."

"Oh, all right." She gave me a perfunctory kiss.

"Well, put some effort into it."

"But our dinner's ready."

I pushed her away mid-pucker. "All you care about is your stomach."

"I love kissing you, but I'm hungry."

I gave in to her. I always did when she teased me like that. "C'mon, then. Let's get your tummy filled." I pulled the enchiladas from the oven and added a salad of fresh greens and tomatoes.

"Did you see that we got a Christmas card from Donny Benton?" I asked, as we ate our meal.

Kim nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I wondered what had become of him and his wispy goatee after he left our group in Arizona."

I took a long swallow of water. "You know he went to California for more courses after he earned his doctorate."

"That's when I lost track of him."

"He sent me a few e-mails a month or two ago. I think he's gone into partnership with some electronics expert and they're looking to start a business doing digital mapping of archaeological sites. Soon he could be on the cutting edge of some big developments."

She gave me a penetrating  look. "Has he asked you for money?"

"We've discussed a loan, but I'm still reviewing the data. I haven't committed to anything yet."

"It's not my place to advise you on how to spend your money."

"No, it isn't," I said, a little too firmly.

"But, I do worry that he might be taking advantage of your friendship."

I put down my fork and pushed back from the table. "I appreciate your concern, and I'll continue to review the figures with Dad's accountants and legal team. I have to tell you, though, it looks exciting."

"Donny can be very persuasive, honey. He talked me into an extension on a major paper deadline once, just because he'd been putting together a PowerPoint presentation for the Arizona Historical Society and didn't finish the reading assignment for my course."

"I understand, and I'll be careful. It was good to hear from him again. I've missed all the gang from our first expedition."

Kim stood and gathered our dishes. "That was a special bunch, and I'm glad most of them have stayed in touch."

I joined her in clearing the table. She rinsed our plates and silverware and put everything into the dishwasher. I stood behind her while she worked, wrapping my arms around her waist when she finished. "So, what's for dessert?" she asked.

"You, gorgeous." I tightened my grip and hugged her before leading us both to the bedroom.

"PJ, sometimes you're insatiable."

I fingered the buttons on her flannel shirt. "But I don't see you resisting."

Chapter 6

Even though I hadn't opened my eyes, I could tell it had snowed during the night. Snowed a lot. I knew by the wooly blanket of silence that seemed to engulf the house. Until last night, we'd seen snow in the mountains, but not that much in our valley and not much at all for February. The weather gurus were warning of drought conditions, but what did they know? Their predictions were wrong as often as they were right.

I dared to slowly open first one eye, then both. The window was a frame for the setting moon, whose silvery glow reflected off the snow and bathed our room in soft light. A nearby tree glistened proudly in its new mantle of white. When I reached for my watch, the glowing dial showed just five o'clock, much too early to get up. I nestled myself against PJ's warm body, hearing her moan.

"It snowed during the night," I whispered.

"And you woke me up to tell me this?" She hiked the blanket up to her chin. "It's a great excuse to sleep in."

"Nah, it's too pretty a day for that, but we can sleep a little longer, if you'd like."

"Works for me." She turned into me, pressed her cheek to my neck and went back to sleep. Her skin smelled faintly of raspberry soap.

It was daylight when I awoke again, and PJ was snoring softly beside me. After easing myself from her slackened embrace, I got up, pulled on my robe, and viewed the Christmas card scene from the window. Cleo and Jackie were thoroughly awake and desperate for a meal, so I slid my feet into my fuzzy slippers and shuffled into the kitchen. Pup had raised his head when I got up, but remained in the bedroom, curled up on the rug at the foot of our bed. I made two cups of Stash's Earl Grey, added honey and a splash of low-fat milk to PJ's, and returned to the bedroom, shrugging off my robe and slippers.

After placing both mugs on the bedside table, I dove under the covers and put my hands on PJ's warm belly.

"Yikes." She turned onto her side, defensively. "You've got ice cubes for fingers."

"Sorry." I rubbed my fingers across her bare back. She twisted and slapped at my hands.

"Go away. You're making me cold."

"But I brought some tea to keep us warm and help us wake up."

"Why didn't you say so?" She sat up, and placed pillows against the headboard.

"You were too busy squealing at me." I put two pillows up on my side.

"Find us a couple of shirts, would you, please. It's too distracting and too chilly for both of us to sit here naked."

"If you insist." I located two T-shirts, slipped one over my head, and tossed the thinner one to PJ.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Thanks a bundle," she said, donning the almost transparent garment. "Now then, let's have tea."

I picked up the mugs and climbed in beside her. "Here you go, your highness."

She claimed her beverage and gave me a kiss. "You're a treasure. Slightly perverted, but a treasure nonetheless."

"I know."

"And so disgustingly humble, too."

"Right on all counts."

We sipped our hot beverages contentedly, and I enjoyed the view of PJ's nipples through the fabric of her shirt.

"Where have the days gone?" PJ asked, her big toe nudging my foot under the blanket.

"I don't know." My toe prodded back. "It seems like just last week we were celebrating the New Year with Jasper and Little Bird, and now we're smack dab in the midst of winter."

"The worst part is, I hardly get to see you between your edits on the book with Glenna and my lectures and committee meetings for various charities and the Santa Fe Four Hundredth Birthday celebration. We don't spend enough quality time together."

"I know you love to help out with various causes, and I certainly think some of them are deserving of your time and money, but sometimes you have to say no. People will take advantage of you if you don't carve out some time for yourself."

She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. "I know. And it doesn't keep me busy the way our work used to. I'd almost go back to contract work."

"You'd stoop to being a mere shovel bum? Wow. You must be desperate."

"The closest we've been to an assignment with the foundation, lately, was another meeting in the petrified forest."

"The what?"

She grinned at me. "You know, the board meeting at the Pru."

"PJ, the Prudential Center may not be the most attractive or the tallest skyscraper in Boston, but it has a certain homely charm."

"I know that. And I'm not belittling the place, just the meetings we have to attend there. The liveliest thing about the last one was when I rescued you from Heather's clutches."

Kim sputtered on a mouthful of tea. "You did no such thing. I was never in her clutches, as you call it."

"Put yourself in my place, okay? I'm waiting at the Top of the Hub restaurant, ready to sink my teeth into a scrumptious lobster salad roll and maybe share a slice of date pudding cake with my tall, dark, and delicious true love, but does she arrive in time to dine with me? No. I'm stood up by my own spouse."

"No, hold on. I had every intention of meeting you on time, PJ."

"After waiting for an hour, I finally gave up, got my lobster roll to go, and started searching offices, one by one. Lo and behold, I found you both locked in a storage closet in the dark. Are you seeing it from my perspective?"

"But, it wasn't like that. It was an accident."

"It was an accident that I walked in on you, you mean."

"I don't know how the door got locked, but Heather left the keys on her desk, purely by accident."

"A likely story. And why was it dark in there?"

"I think she was trying to turn the knob and her hand hit the switch instead."

"Humph. More than likely, her breasts got in the way while you two were wrestling."

She'd chuckled at that point, so I knew the fire had gone out of her argument. Just to be on the safe side, I tried a distraction of my own. Two could play at this memory game.

"Okay, then what about Lawrence following you around like a faithful puppy, huh? His tongue was practically dragging on the floor."

"Oh, stop. Now, that image will be in my brain for days."

We both started laughing.

"So, the bottom line is that we've been busy doing work that didn't challenge us enough and kept us from being together."

"Succinctly put, Kimmy. What are we going to do about it?"

"I need another mug of tea before I ponder such weighty issues."

"Allow me to take care of that. I'll feed the animals and let Pup out, too." PJ hopped out of bed and put a robe on. "This T-shirt isn't keeping me very warm."

"Sorry," I said.

"No you aren't. Not in the least. And don't think I wasn't wise to your trick from the start." She left the room.

Okay, busted. And did I just make a pun? No, probably a play on words.

"Let's get to the bottom line," PJ said when she'd returned with fresh mugs of tea and some English muffins. "Are you happy?"

"Very happy. And if you don't know that by now—"

"Wait. I don't mean happy in that way. That goes without saying." She leaned over and nibbled my lower lip before kissing me deeply. "You're an incredible, attentive lover. I trust I satisfy you, too."

"Most definitely, little one." I kissed her nose, causing it to wrinkle in the most adorable way. "You're an artist in the sex department."

"I'm talking about your career and where it's headed. We've been here working on the ranch, but we haven't heard any more from the Amazons about this project we're supposed to be doing for them. Why is that, do you think?"

I pulled PJ closer. "I don't know. It seems that since we encountered the ancient Greek Amazons, we've both been spinning our wheels, waiting for them to make a move. That's not my nature and I don't think it's yours either."

"You're right. And you may not believe this, but those women in that village affected me almost as much as they did you. I haven't been the same since."

I shot her a questioning look.

"I know I didn't feel the intense connection you did from your dreams before the Arizona dig, but because they happened to you and because I witnessed the discovery of Marna and Leeja's remains in that cave, I know it was real, even though I couldn't explain it. Same with the Greek trip back in time." She reached for my face and caressed my cheek. "What happens to you happens to me, too, indirectly. I'm a part of you now."

"The best part of me." I covered her hand with mine. "I love you. That much I know for sure. As for my career, I'm aware that I'm not getting the satisfaction from it that I once did, and I don't know why."

Cleo jumped up on the bed, followed closely by Jackie. They curled up to nap, between us, dead weighting the quilt covers so that neither of us could move our feet.

"Isn't this lovely," PJ said. "The girls have us trapped in our own bed."

I leaned back, pulling her with me. "So it would appear."

"I can think of worse places to be and worse people to be stuck with, though."

"Gee, thanks."

"We were discussing your future, and mine as well, because I'm connected to you now. Do you think that current innovations in archaeology don't challenge and inspire you enough?" PJ asked.

"It's not that bad. The science still excites me. I think it has more to do with my lack of direction. The Amazon Quest was my whole life. I was, as you so aptly put it, driven to find that lost tribe. Nothing else mattered to me, until I met you."

She gave my ribs a light jab. "Sorry I made a blip on your radar screen at such a critical time."

I poked her back. "No problem. I managed to fall in love and find Marna."

"Despite your amazing multitasking ability, I think what you probably need, my warrior, is a new Amazon Quest."

"Perhaps. But maybe I wouldn't be driven like I was before."

Her warm hand stroked my stomach. "Because Marna wouldn't influence it?"

"Yeah."

"That was some sort of supernatural experience."

"I suppose it was. We've had some strange things happen to us."

PJ drew into me. Her body's heat enveloped me like a soft blanket. She kissed the swell of my left breast, through my shirt, let her head rest there, and idly rubbed my stomach while I attempted to explain myself.

"I think the way we're heading doesn't seem to have a purpose right now."

"I understand. I'm not really into the Curtis Foundation Board of Directors stuff either, but Dad wanted us to be involved."

"That's part of it certainly, but it's burnout I fear most. Maybe I should have quit archaeology after the Amazon Project."

"You'd go crazy doing nothing. We need to find a new direction, a new project. If only those Amazon spirits would drop by with a roadmap of our mission." She covered her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that."

"That was strange, coming from you, but I think we need to take charge of our own future. What I'd really like to do is immerse myself in the detective aspect of archaeology, searching old documents, maps, and ancient locales for clues, getting down and dirty. Modern science has removed the need for some of that, but it's where the excitement is for me. We're supposed to be finding more evidence of Amazons, so maybe we should try to without guidance."

"What do you want to do? Where do you want to start?" She gave me a hug. "Don't worry, I'll protect your back. And your front, for that matter."

"I know I can count on you. This Amazon Quest should come before any further career interests, though."

"Yeah, that." She made a face. "I know I said we needed it, but I was desperately trying to come up with a new project. Couldn't you find something else to do with your future?"

I could tell from her tone that this wasn't the time for more Amazon discussion, so I decided to let it drop entirely. "I think we should take a drive together, maybe to Taos Pueblo. We could do it in a day. What do you think?"

"Brilliant idea and you're brilliant for thinking of it."

"Good. That's settled, then. Right now, though, in my immediate future, I want to romp in the snow."

"Romp? Right now? Out in the cold?"

"Yeah. I'm going to pelt you with snowballs and toss a few down the back of your pretty little neck. And afterwards we can take a hot shower and snuggle in front of a roaring fire."

PJ's eyes held a devilish gleam. "Oh, you think so, huh?"

"I do."

She threw back the covers. "Then it's game on, girl. Let's romp."

Chapter 7

"I don't know which is better about this trip," I said, looking over at Kim, "going to Taos Pueblo or just being alone with you on a beautiful April day." I put my hand on her arm and gave it a quick squeeze so as not to interfere with her driving.

"Well, it's both, so you can truly enjoy yourself."

"I've studied the history and looked over the map. I memorized the rules. We're not even taking any cameras, so we don't have to worry about permissions and payments."

"We can leave our cell phones in the car, too. It's not a specific holiday, just a quiet day for visiting."

"And shopping," I said.

"Yes. You'd never let me forget that. You'll be fine. Just act like you're visiting a special, sacred place," Kim said.

"We are. The pueblo's been around for the past thousand years, according to the dates for artifacts from early excavations."

"I've read that it's considered the oldest continuously inhabited community in the country."

"The funny thing is that only a hundred and fifty people live there full time and almost two thousand live outside the town proper. They come in to help with various rituals and celebrations. A lot of them work at jobs in the pueblo or in Taos."

Our first stop, after paying our ten dollar admission fee, was to follow the walking tour map to the ruins of the San Geronimo Chapel visible on the west side of the village. Even though a new chapel had been built, it was worthwhile viewing what still remained of the old one after the U.S. Army destroyed it during the war with Mexico in 1847. New Mexico had a rich heritage of Indian and Spanish coexistence. Sometimes it was peaceful and sometimes it wasn't.

"Do you think we could ever have thick adobe walls like this at the ranch?" Kim asked, after viewing one of the homes in the town proper. "We'd save a bundle on heating costs."

"Maybe, but it would sure cut down on the square footage of the interior rooms."

We found our way to some shops where jewelry, leather goods, and wooden items were sold. The stores were small and lots of other visitors were busy looking and buying. Kim and I agreed to split up for an hour because it was impossible for us to stay together in the cramped shops.

"I got you something," I said when we met outside the entrance to Mirabel Nature Gifts.

"Great minds think alike. I got something for you, too."

We exchanged bags and opened them.

"Silver and turquoise earrings." I held my gift up to the light and then next to my ears. "Thank you. They're beautiful."

Kim held her gift in one hand and then transferred it to the other. "I saw these and was fascinated by them. A carved buffalo made from some sort of mica-flecked clay. I love the feel of it."

"I thought it would make a good paperweight for your desk. The woman said it was micaceous clay that's indigenous to the area. The store had bowls and vases and other pottery made from it, too."

"Thanks. I love just holding it and turning it over in my hand. You can see little bits of mica catch the sunlight."

"The buffalo is the Indian symbol of sacrifice and service to the community, the shop's owner said. You've certainly done a lot for our home area with the wildlife acreage. She told me that those who have the buffalo as their totem, however, have to, and I'll quote her, 'remember to see the good in all things and not let frustration store up inside them.' Think you can handle that?"

"Hmm. Maybe it shouldn't be my totem, then, just my keepsake."

"Good idea." I looked over at the Mirabel shop. "I suspect you're about shopped out, but I'd really love to go inside and hear some of the flute music. I want to buy the DVD of Robert Mirabel's Music from a Painted Cave.'''

"Sure. Let's take a look. I don't think there are any performances planned for today, but maybe we can come back during a dance or feast day and take in some live flute playing."

"That would be fantastic." I held the door open for her. "Let's look and listen."

Inside the store, music played from a sound system. It seemed to float mystically over us. Other shoppers' conversations faded away, and I was transported to a tranquil, spiritual place, listening. I peered at all the flutes for sale and eavesdropped shamelessly on talk between musicians and craftsmen as they fingered various instruments and extolled the virtues of this wood or that. Kim had to lure me away with the promise of a return in July for a powwow featuring live performances.

During the drive home to the ranch, we chattered away about the pueblo and its hearty inhabitants.

"It's like a big five story apartment house," I said, "only with really thick walls that all look like. I don't know if I could live there. You'd have no variety in colors or building materials to set off your place from the rest except maybe a different colored door."

Kim looked at me and shook her head. "I know you'd never have liked living there in the early days, then. Besides sharing common walls, there were no connecting doorways, no front doors, and no windows. Access was from above."

"Put that together with no electricity and no running water and you have a real test of endurance. Too rough for me. I like our sprawling ranch house with all its comforts. What about you?"

"As long as you and the animals are there, our ranch is the place to be, with or without comforts."

"Aw. Pull over, right now."

"What's the matter?" She found a wide enough spot on the edge of State Route 68 and maneuvered the Rover to a safe stop.

"Nothing's wrong. I just want to kiss you, and I don't want you going off the road and over a cliff when I do."

"Good thinking."

*   *   *

I loaded the cooler into the Jeep while PJ packed up Pup's blanket and chew toy. It was a spectacular spring day, one we felt we shouldn't waste on research, dry scientific articles, phone calls, and other commitments. After the drive to Taos had proved to be such a success, I'd tried to find extra time to do things with PJ, even if it meant just a few hours together outside. We were busy, but we needed time to rest and reconnect. The work could wait until tomorrow.

When we had Pup comfortably restrained in the backseat, PJ slid behind the steering wheel and I took a quick inventory of our supplies.

"Did you remember the rolls?" I asked her.

"Oh, shoot." PJ jumped out of the Jeep and ran back into the house, emerging a moment later with an aluminum foil bag which gave off the most fragrant aroma when she dropped it into my lap.

We headed toward the ridge, a favorite spot where we could look out and practically touch the mountains. With just the turn of our heads, we expanded our view across the valley, now carpeted with blossoming wildflowers. Golden columbine, blue and purple clematis, yellow alpine sunflowers, pink and whitish phlox, and wild snapdragons all fought for our attention in a spectacular visual display. I noticed again, as I had whenever I was in the mountains in the spring, how vibrant and prolific the greens were. It was as if the land, rocks, trees, and shrubs had cleansed themselves of the previous year's dirt and dust. Everything appeared young and fresh, even trees that had stood in place for hundreds of years, and rock outcroppings that had existed for thousands. Nature was dressed in celebration of the coming season.

The trail was narrow, steep, and contained several switchbacks, but PJ handled the Wrangler expertly. Prior to coming to the ranch, her only experience with four-wheeling had been on slightly damp freeways. At first I thought leasing the vehicle had been intended as a status symbol, something she felt she needed. But she had learned to handle it safely on both the highway and the back country roads near the property. She stayed on the trails, driving carefully and slowly to minimize erosion. Besides, she looked hot and sexy wearing a battered straw cowboy hat with the sides curled up and the brim bent at a rakish angle to shade her eyes.

We spread a large blanket out and unpacked a picnic lunch. Since it had been an impromptu affair, we'd grabbed what was available from the refrigerator. The leftover fried chicken and potato salad tasted just as good, if not better, than it had the evening before. The rolls had remained warm in their foil container. Our dessert was a fresh fruit salad and leftover apple pie.

After we'd stuffed ourselves and the remains of our meal had been cleared away, I lay on my back on the blanket, bathed in warm sunshine, feeling pleasantly sleepy.

Pup stretched out with his nose on his paws and his eyes half open in his usual watchful repose.

"Chores are done," PJ said, rubbing her hands together after putting the basket next to the cooler in the Jeep. She dropped beside me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

"You do good work," I said, mussing her hair. "Keep it up and I'll hire you full time."

"Terrific. What would my duties be?"

"Keeping me happy at all times."

"Does keeping you happy extend to your personal well-being as well as household needs?"

"I can't answer that without knowing your qualifications."

"Okay, how's this for starters?" Her kiss aroused me. I opened my mouth to receive her probing tongue. It was sweet to the taste, like apples and sugar with just a hint of cinnamon.

"Mmm. Not bad. Not bad at all."

Eyes smoldering with further delightful promises, PJ straddled my hips and unbuttoned my shirt. "So. Do I get the job?"

"I'm considering it."

She pushed my bra up and kissed my left breast, while her thumb played havoc with my right one.

I felt rather than heard myself moan, but managed to get her to pause long enough for me to yank off her top and bra. A fire of desire blazed inside me.

After a few more seconds, our clothing lay piled around us. The slight breeze playing across my bare skin only heightened my need, and PJ seemed equally afflicted, if her incoherent words were any indication.

Rough and tumble at first, then tender and slow, we worked ourselves up to unrestrained passion, letting our cries drift across the hillside and into the cloud-dotted New Mexico sky.

Afterwards, we lay side by side watching the puffy clouds drift across our field of vision. Our fingers linked and we played at arm-wrestling.

"I've made my decision. You're vastly overqualified for the job, but it's yours, if you still want it."

She pulled our joined hands to her lips and kissed my knuckles. "I do."

"Good. I do, too."

We rolled the blanket around us for warmth and gazed skyward again.

"I don't think I'll ever grow tired of New Mexican skies and cloud formations," PJ said.

I pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Do you know how to make clouds disintegrate?"

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me crosswise. "I've heard that too much sex can weaken the mind. It's happened to you, poor dear."

"Hey, I'm serious. See that little cloud over there?" I pointed to a small formation shaped like a newborn lamb. "Look at it and concentrate, I mean really concentrate. Don't take your eyes off it for a second, or you'll lose the magic."

"Is it too late to reconsider the job offer? I think my employer may have slipped into senility."

"PJ, please try it."

"Okay, I'll humor you." She stared upward, unblinking, for what must have been two or three minutes. "It's happening. It's really dissolving."

"What'd I tell you?"

"Clouds change shape all the time, though. They do it all on their own."

"You don't believe you can make them disintegrate?"

"Maybe you can. I think I'd rather be making love."

"Again?"

"Sure, why not again?" She slid the blanket down and rolled on top of me, lips open, tongue searching, but it was not to be. Two or three geese flew overhead making loud honking noises and Pup came alert with a howl. Our quiet interlude over, we got dressed and headed for the Jeep.

"It's not a parlor trick you know, the thing with the clouds."

PJ turned. "Not that again."

"It takes practice, so you have to keep trying. Do it sometime when you've got nothing else to do."

"Sure thing. When I have nothing better to do."

*   *   *

Back at the house, after unloading the Jeep and putting everything away, Kim settled down to do some work on the book, and I decided to go out for a run, taking Pup with me.

We jogged easily up the trail into the wooded area behind the house, pausing to climb a flat rock that overlooked a scenic view of the meadow and a meandering stream. Kim and I loved this part of the property. Often in the early morning or late evening, we'd see wildlife coming down to the stream for a drink. Although we couldn't actually view the stream from the house, the meandering line of trees marked its course and, from our vantage point on the rock, we could watch the animals without scaring them away.

I stretched out on the rock face to soak up some rays and stare at the sky while Pup loped down to the meadow to catch up on various smells and sounds. Were he able to talk, he could probably relate all the activity from the last several days down there: what creatures had been about, what had died, what had been born.

Listening to the birds and the trilling of insects, I felt happy and at peace. Life is good, I told myself. There's no place else I'd rather be right now than on this ranch with Kim. It's meant to be this way. It's our destiny.

The warm sun must have lulled me to sleep. I was suddenly chilled by a strong breeze that swept fluffy white clouds across the blue sky and rippled the hem of my T-shirt. The air moved from west to east now. Pup was stretched out beside me, feet twitching, whimpering in the throes of a particularly restless dream.

Recalling Kim's talk about manipulating clouds, I picked out one of the swift-moving clumps and stared at it. It didn't disintegrate, but after several minutes, its shape changed. It evolved into a band of mounted women warriors parading by with swords held high.

"You wish you were with them, don't you?"

I sat up and turned so quickly I put a crick in my neck. Wrapped in a cloak of swirling mist, a tall young woman stood near me. I felt sure she was an Amazon, though I couldn't explain why. Even though the cloud covering obscured her body's shape and typical battle dress, I knew instinctively that she was an Amazon spirit guide.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you before, have I?"

The haze cleared and revealed a warrior in full leather regalia. "My name is not important. What is important is that you and your soul mate ready yourselves for your duties."

"Duties?"

"You were told your destiny when you met with the shaman and the others."

"Yes, that's true. You're from Leeja's tribe, then? Did they survive the battle?"

She held up her hand. "Silence. My stay here is brief. A visit to this time and this place takes incredible effort and strength. Only the bravest and strongest of warriors would dare volunteer." She smiled and her formidable chest swelled with pride.

"Weren't you the lucky one to be chosen."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. I was the best. I knew I could reach you and I did."

"And you're so modest, too." I glanced at Pup who was still prone alongside me. His eyes were open and focused on the warrior.

Was he seeing what I was seeing, or was he seeing through and beyond her?

"Okay. We've established that you're the strongest and bravest of the lot. Props for that. You wouldn't be related to Reena, would you?" I teasingly compared her to the proud and vain Amazon warrior Kim and I had dealt with in our visit to ancient Greece.

The woman's mood turned somber. "Reena was a champion and a loyal member of the Queen's Royal Guard."

"Was?"

"She was killed during the battle you just mentioned."

Oh, geez. "I'm sorry. I was just... She was a valiant fighter. And I'm sorry that happened to her."

"It was her destiny to die in defense of our queen and our tribe. Your destiny is why I came here now."

"I know I'm supposed to write about the Amazons, and Kim and I are supposed to identify as many as we can from research and matching medallions to bones and such."

"The shaman will come to counsel you on that. You know her as Grandmother. Find a place in your home and prepare it for her."

"What? How do we do that?"

The woman mumbled something under her breath. I sensed her patience was wearing thin. "Dedicate a room to your spirit guides and all who will make the journey across time to visit you. Put down sacred herbs, light candles to the Goddess. Keep your Amazon garments and weapons there."

"We only have the sword and Kim's tunic. I don't—"

"Prepare it. Your animal will tell you when a visitor is coming. You may even smell the sage that will announce her arrival. The other things will take care of themselves."

I groaned at the thought of seeing those skimpy Amazon leathers again. "Okay."

"Do your duty to your mate and your Amazon family."

"My duty." I stood up and took a step closer to her. "Wait just a minute here. You guys were supposed to help us with that duty thing. We've been waiting for your guidance and nothing has happened so far."

"I'm here now to set it all in motion. Here are your orders. Love your mate. Be the best Amazon you can be. We're still living, surviving in your time. You must recognize as many of us as you can and keep the Amazon Nation alive for the future."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Is that all?"

"For now, yes."

"Good. The loving my mate part will be easy. The rest will take some time."

"You will be tested. Even loving each other will not be as easy as you think." Her voice grew fainter and the contours of her body wavered. "I must go now. You know why you are here and what you must do. The shaman will help you, but you must be strong. There are troubling times ahead."

Her form dissolved completely, leaving me standing and staring upward at the ever-changing cloud formations. I realized that what had happened was no dream, but how would I explain this to Kim when I couldn't fully accept it myself?

I took a deep breath. "Let's go, Pup." We climbed down from the overlook and started a slow jog back toward the house.

Kim was surprised when I told her of the warrior's visit, but we set about designating a space in a storage closet in a corner of our office for the purpose of receiving Amazon spirit guides. Kim brought in an old trunk to hold our memorabilia and her sword. I placed candles and a jar of dried sage on a narrow table. Two pillows and a small area rug completed the decor.

Kim surveyed the space before switching off the light. "I guess we're ready."

"Do we need to leave a light on for them?"

"We're not running a Motel 6, PJ. If they want to find us, they'll manage."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Chapter 8

PJ had been away several days in Tucson and Tempe, consulting with the archaeological department heads at the University of Arizona and Arizona State University to enlist volunteers for the Chaco Canyon Preservation Project. At the conclusion of that tour, she planned to fly to Boston to present the final funding proposal before the Curtis Foundation's Board of Directors. She hadn't wanted to take the trip alone and had begged me to extend the deadline on Glenna's book long enough for me to accompany her. I still had three more chapters to work on and couldn't get away. We'd had words, but PJ accepted my decision.

The night before she left, we had another disagreement about money and the need for kitchen renovation. I'm not even sure how the subject came up, but it centered on the height of the cabinets and then it became an issue of the quality of the cabinets and the need for upgrading them.

Our budget had no room for replacement cabinets, and I didn't see the need for removing perfectly good ones.

"They're too high for me to reach the upper shelves," PJ had said.

"Then, we'll get you a stepstool."

That was the wrong thing to say because it sounded like I was criticizing her height, or lack of it. And then I made it worse with what I said next. "Little Bird and I have no trouble, and we're the ones who use the kitchen most."

"What about when I start cooking for you?" PJ had said. I knew she wanted to learn to make simple meals.

"And the handles are way outdated now. Nobody uses gold knobs. We need to get silver-finished ones."

I was about to concede then, feeling we could afford to make changes to a few knobs, but she complained about the style of the cabinets themselves. I failed to see how a set of cabinets could go out of style.

"Oak would be best," she said. "It would go with the floors and furniture and trim in the other rooms."

"Wouldn't that make everything in the kitchen look pale, then? We have the tile and the countertops in the same light tone as the oak would be." I still hadn't learned when to keep quiet. I should have shut my mouth before I said that because she had the perfect solution, or so she thought.

"We'll get a dark granite countertop and a nice contrasting backsplash. That'll complement the light wood and tile colors."

"That'll cost us a fortune," I said, already feeling a headache starting.

More words came after that. We traded insults that I did my best to tune out. I remember she called me a tightwad, and I called her a spendthrift. Then she said I was an old woman, which really hurt because I am older than she is, and she knows the age difference has always worried me.

I left to cool down. When I came back at bedtime, she was asleep or pretending to be. When I woke up the next morning, she'd already left. I found a note telling me that her flight was earlier than she thought. We talked briefly on the phone a few times since then, but we never resolved the issue.

I devoted all my energy to finishing the edits on the book and sending it back to Glenna. She'd told me the editor at Hawthorn University Press would have someone check for glitches in our research and someone else would proofread every line. In a few weeks, we'd have one final chance to go over it before it was published. In the meantime, I'd completed and submitted an article for the Society of American Archaeology, using some of my leftover research material.

I had a luncheon meeting scheduled with the director of the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture in Santa Fe, and I spent the earlier part of the morning making some transfers at the bank and visiting a kitchen remodeling company for estimates. I was still smarting from the fight with PJ, but I wanted to see if we could reach a compromise. It was mid-afternoon before I returned to the ranch, and I had an estimate I could live with and some brochures that I thought would please PJ.

When I turned onto our private road and drove beneath the antlers, it was almost three thirty. Now graveled, oiled, and graded, the road was in much better shape than when PJ and I had arrived last fall. Clouds of dust no longer enveloped vehicles traversing its length. We'd also managed to get rid of the loose gravel that liked to grab at tires and pull cars sideways. In fact, our little road was in better shape than some of the interstates.

I parked the Rover inside the barn, grabbed my packages and briefcase from the passenger seat, and stepped outside. I wished PJ could be waiting to greet me, but she was in Boston until tomorrow. We'd talked yesterday, and I planned to call her later today and tell her about the deal I had made on supplies for the kitchen.

I stood for a few moments, smelling the hot, still air which signaled the calm before the storm. What looked like a magnificent, mature cumulonimbus incus rose beyond the Sangre de Cristo Range. I stared in fascination at the perfectly shaped anvil formation. We're in for it. I bet that baby is close to 60,000 feet. A storm chaser's dream.

As I strolled toward the house, Pup raced across the meadow to welcome me. He loved this place and would sometimes be gone for hours on end. I think his wolf blood drew him to the wilderness. It was, after all, his birthright. Tongue hanging out, yelping, he bounded in circles around my legs.

"Hey fella, how are you doing?"

He woofed and then settled down to join me indoors, where our feline companions waited.

I dropped my briefcase and bags on the floor and flopped into my well-worn leather recliner. I'd change into shorts and a T-shirt after a moment to unwind and visit with the animals. Pup curled up beside the chair. I reached over and stroked him until he drifted into sleep.

My mind, however, wouldn't stop churning. It was filled with the memory of the words PJ and I had exchanged. We'd always said we'd never leave on a trip angry with each other. Life was too precarious, and it made us feel bad to have things unsettled between us. This time, there'd been no good-bye kiss or hug and it was because we let her money come between us.

I'd had to work and claw for every dime, so I valued my savings and hated spending money if I didn't feel it was necessary. Money to PJ, however, was simply something to be shared with loved ones and those in need. While she was generous to a fault, this loved one was not gracious about accepting.

Cleo and Jackie tore into the living room, interrupting my thoughts. They stopped to rub against my legs and sniff at my briefcase briefly before chasing each other around the paper grocery sack I had left on the floor for their amusement.

Seeing the cats so obviously happy together reminded me of my recent parting with PJ. I wouldn't ever allow her to leave like that again. Although we had spoken every day while she was away, we'd made no reference to our disagreement or her hasty departure. She sneaked out of the house the morning after our fight in which she'd told me to "get real" and to "grow up," saying I was "a pigheaded old woman." That hurt more than anything.

I realized that I'd been oversensitive and, gradually, the hurt had disappeared. I was sure her words were said in the heat of the moment. Human beings should come equipped with pressure valves that automatically shut off before harmful words can explode out of their mouths.

"Oh Pup," I said, rubbing behind his ear, "we're all studies in imperfection."

My thoughts were interrupted again when Jackie crashed into the paper sack and Cleo pounced on top of it and her. We'd bought them all kinds of toys, but nothing amused them more than a plain old grocery sack or a rolled up ball of aluminum foil.

I looked around the sizable living room. Little by little, we were transforming this old house into something that reflected us, our interests and personalities. The walls were now painted a light cream color. There were no drapes. We wanted to capture the pristine quality of the New Mexican light and bring it inside. The blinds we had installed were sufficient to afford us the privacy we needed, when we needed it. Although we had much yet to do, it was feeling more and more like home, the one place where we could be ourselves, alone together in our own private sanctuary.

With Pup close on my heels, I walked into the study, dropped my briefcase on my desk, and looked longingly at the oak-framed picture of PJ which stood on the corner of my desk. I looked over at her desk. The documents on it were arranged in neat piles next to her monitor. She had my picture there, too. Our desks faced each other across the room, enabling us to blow loving kisses back and forth, or float paper airplanes. PJ was always so delightfully playful. The thought of her antics triggered comforting warmth within my breast.

With a sigh, I looked out the large picture window at the fantastic view of the mountains. The sight usually released all my pent up tensions, but it failed to work its magic spell.

I stared at the bookcases flanking the window and at a long table stacked with archaeological journals, loose notes, pictures, and maps, which filled most of the opposite wall. A bank of oak filing cabinets stood to the right of the door.

The office was spacious, but nearly full of stored, completed material and data yet to be processed. After taking papers from my briefcase, I set it on the floor, powered up the computer, and settled down to work. The next thing I knew, darkness had blocked out most of the light in the room and I heard the wind blowing. Large rain drops splattered against the window. Pup had been sleeping at my feet, but he raised his head and whined as a flash of lightning illuminated the study.

Here it comes.

"We're inside, safe and sound," I told him, "though I did lose track of the time."

I remembered the magnificent storm clouds I had seen earlier. I turned on a light and shut down the computer. Lightning lit the room like a searchlight probing every corner. I did some mental calculations before the thunder boomed and figured the storm was about six miles away. I was still in my town clothes: gray slacks and a lightweight checkered shirt. With the storm so close, I decided to wait on the shower in case the power went off and left me in the dark. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since the early lunch in Santa Fe. Perhaps I had time to fix a sandwich.

I heard a noise from somewhere in the front part of the house. PJ couldn't be back yet, and Pup was with me. The cats had fled at the first clap of thunder and were probably crouching beneath our bed. They couldn't have accounted for whatever I heard.

"Jasper, is that you? Little Bird?"

There was no response. "Hmm, must have been the wind."

Pup stiffened, his hackles rose, and he growled.

I took hold of his collar. "It's okay, boy. It's only the storm."

Chapter 9

It was still early when I landed in Albuquerque and claimed the Jeep from the airport's extended parking facility. The road home stretched invitingly before me. A good bit of it was seventy-five miles-per-hour, no traffic to speak of and no construction crews on the job yet. I let her rip.

With fingers tapping a beat against the steering wheel, I hummed along with a Beatles CD. My mother had been a fan of the British rock group and I'd grown up listening to their music.

Shallow puddles and muddy craters marred the normally dusty roadsides. The blacktop was dry and made for a stress-free drive. Normal showers dry up quickly without leaving any telltale moisture. Judging by the puddles I could still see, it must have rained a lot during the night. Frog-stranglers, Little Bird liked to call those storms. Good thing Kim had our private road repaired. I'd be faced with a slippery mess, otherwise.

I remembered the "discussion" Kim and I had had about the money issues for that project. Proud to a fault and stubborn, she was the most pig-headed person when it came to expenses. Jesus, she was almost as stubborn as I was. Together, we were quite a pair.

My stomach clenched at the thought of the unresolved issues between us. We'd carefully avoided talking about it on the phone while I was gone, but I'd left without saying a proper good-bye. I'd said some terrible things to her and then compounded the action by not making up with her before this trip.

"Stupid. Asinine. Childish." I bit my lip as tears welled up. She had to know I didn't mean it, not really. I loved her more than anything; it was agony being away from her. I couldn't remember exactly what started the torrent of harsh words, but before it was over, I'd called her some hurtful names. How could I have done that to her?

My cheeks were wet, and I swiped at my eyes to clear my vision. The road split off from Route 25 at Santa Fe and looped northwest on Route 68, forcing me to ease off the gas. I could feel the excitement rising, my heart rate increasing. Not much longer and I'd be home. Yes, I'd been a brat, an asshole. I'd hurt my best friend and dearest love, and left with the words lingering in the air between us like a foul odor. Kim loved me, though. I knew we could make things right between us. I looked forward to leaping into her arms and showering her with repentant kisses.

I negotiated the final bend on the highway before turning into our long, winding driveway. The sight of our home warmed my heart. I'd find Kimmy and apologize, first thing. We'd kiss and snuggle, maybe put our feet up on the coffee table and sip cups of Earl Grey while we caught up on the past several days. Pup and the cats would have missed me. I couldn't wait to see how they liked the new toys I'd brought them.

The place was quiet.

I drove the Jeep around to the barn and parked it next to the Rover.

The silence was unnerving.

Pup should've heard me by now. Were they all sleeping in? My running shoes thunked across the porch's wide floor beams. The front door was unlocked, and the rug in the hallway canted at a haphazard angle. Something was so not-right here. Fear crept over me, making my ears tingle. At the entrance to the living room, I viewed signs of a struggle: books were scattered on the floor, their pages spread-eagled, a table lamp lay on its side, the shade askew. As alarming as those sights were, they couldn't compare to the image just beneath my feet. I sank to my knees, stretched out a shaky finger and touched the damp, reddish-brown stain on the carpet. The smell confirmed what my heart refused to believe. Blood.

"Kim! Pup!" On wobbly legs, I ran through all the remaining rooms, shouting for them, willing them to materialize. The emptiness mocked and terrified me. Where in the name of God were they? The kitties emerged from somewhere. They rubbed against my legs and meowed pathetically. What had happened here? In panic, I stumbled back onto the front porch, preparing to search the property. I heard Jasper's old black truck wheezing up the drive.

"Thank God." I was at the driver's side window before he'd turned off the engine. "Where's Kim and Pup? What happened? There's blood on—"

"Whoa. Steady, gal." He opened the door and put a supportive arm around my shoulders. Jasper and I were still getting to know each other and he was friendly, but respectful around me, so his unfamiliar action only increased my fears. I couldn't control my shaking.

He guided me up the steps. "Let's sit up on the porch a minute."

"Did something bad happen? Please, tell me."

"I'll tell you just what I know for sure, okay?" He took off his sweat-stained cowboy hat and wiped the sheen of perspiration from his forehead. I felt myself sweating, too. A cold, foreboding sweat.

"Last night, we had us a whopper of a storm. The wife and I was watching the news on the TV, about ready to turn in, when we heard this whining and howling outside."

"Pup? It was Pup?"

"Yeah. At first it was nothing special, you know. We weren't even sure it was ol' Pup. Thought maybe it was a coyote. But it kept up, and by the time I had the door open, he'd crawled up on our steps and gave out."

"Oh God. What happened? Is he...?" I choked on the words.

"Don't you fret yourself now. He'll be okay."

"Thank God."

"But, as near as we can figure, he was shot."

"Shot?" I felt dizzy. The tingling in my ears was now a roaring freight train. "How? Why?" Reality was slipping away from me.

"I don't rightly know. We got him over to Doc Ressler's. Doc said the bullet went through Pup's side near his hip. He'll be okay in a week or so, stiff as all get-out and cranky as a son of a bitch, but okay."

"Wait, wait! Where was Kim during all this? Why wasn't she with Pup?" My head pounded as if it would soon come apart. I pinched the bridge of my nose and rubbed my eyes, but nothing helped. "This makes no sense. Kim and Pup are as close as... And where the hell did she go?"

"We don't know."

"How could you not know?" I had moved closer to him, clutching at the sleeves of his shirt. He gently pried himself loose, but took my hands in his large, calloused ones.

"I left Little Bird at the animal hospital and came back here to the house. It was still raining and dark as a pot of pitch. Things was just like this. Door unlocked, stuff scattered six ways from Sunday, no sign of her. She's just gone."

I stared at him. My brain refused to process such an incomprehensible occurrence. Part of me wanted to back the whole thing up and start over from the time I drove into the yard, convinced the outcome would be different. Kim would be sleeping in, or taking a shower, or any number of possible things besides the one, irrefutable thing I didn't dare believe, or it would destroy me. Kim was gone... and not of her own volition.

He released my hands and I paced the length of the deck, feeling weak in the knees and disconnected from the rest of my body.

Think. Think hard. Did she have a trip planned? No. Besides, that wouldn't explain Pup's being shot.

My stomach churned, sending burning acid up the back of my throat.

Fight the nausea. You can't lose it now, Kim is depending on you. Form a plan. "So, you called the police, right? Where are they? What have they done so far?"

Jasper scratched the stubble on his chin. "Oh, 'course we called. Some deputies came once the rain let up and they nosed around. Said they couldn't really count Kim missing on account of forty-eight hours had to go by. They said she maybe went for a walk or some nonsense."

"In the middle of the night, with a storm raging? That's absurd. And with Pup hurt? You told them Pup was shot, didn't you?"

"Yep. They thought maybe she'd accidentally shot him and couldn't deal with it."

"Kim doesn't even own a gun!" I ran my fingers through my hair and leaned against the porch rail. "I can't believe this. Do you know any of these people? Or the State Police? It's been hours now. She could be seriously hurt somewhere." My voice wavered, and I refused to consider any other possibilities.

He stood and reached to steady me again. "Try to stay calm."

I pushed his arm away. "Damn it! You know she wouldn't run off and leave Pup hurt like that. She'd never do that. Not willingly."

"A bunch of ranchers'll meet me here in a bit, and we'll search the whole place. I was home calling them out when you got here." He picked up his hat and put it back on. "Don't you worry none, Miss PJ. We'll find her."

I left him on the porch waiting for his search party and went into the kitchen. All I really wanted was to collapse in a dark corner and cry. I'd been close to tears ever since I saw the blood, but now wasn't the time for a meltdown. I needed to see about bringing Pup home to recuperate, but first, I needed to light a fire under the local Police. Somebody in that joke of a police station was going to take some action or heads would roll. I punched in the numbers and asked for the person in charge.

Lieutenant Keller didn't know it yet, but I was going to hound him until my partner was found. I'd be his worst nightmare.

No. That position was reserved for the person or persons who took Kim away from me in the first place.

I called everyone I could think of who might've seen Kim or heard something from or about her. Then I phoned the Curtis Foundation to see if they'd had any contact from her directly or if they'd heard anything at all from any of the many people who were part of the Foundation. They hadn't. I started to call Dad, but wasn't sure where in Greece he was or even what time of day or night it was there.

Later. I'll talk to him a bit later, when I know something more. Maybe Kim will turn up by then, and I won't even have to contact him.

A couple of county deputies drove up our road and after a quick look around, they set up a perimeter around the house and yard. They wouldn't let me inside until the detectives in charge arrived.

"Is it okay if I head over to our caretakers' house?" I pointed to where a corner of Jasper and Little Bird's single story dwelling was visible.

"Just don't leave the area," one of the officers said. "We'll want to talk to you and to them."

"The man who alerted you about the missing person is out looking over the property with some of the neighboring ranchers. He's in an old black Ford truck. I'll see if his wife has heard anything from him."

Little Bird had no new information, but she fixed us both a mug of tea and we sat at her kitchen table, trying to reassure each other that no news would be good news.

I needed to fill in some of the gaps in Jasper's story about the past evening. "Other than Pup coming to the front steps, you heard nothing?"

Little Bird shook her head.

"No shot? There must have been one, maybe more, since we know Pup was hit."

"I'm so sorry, PJ." She balled her strong fingers into fists and pounded the table. "The storm was loud, and we had the TV on for a while before the power went out. We should have checked on Kim to make sure she was home safely from town."

I gently took her hands in mine. "Don't blame yourselves, please. You couldn't have known anything was going to happen. And you know her well enough to assume that she could manage in bad weather. She was prepared for anything."

Except for what happened, apparently.

"Most anything," I amended, softly.

Tears trickled down Little Bird's plump cheeks. She freed one hand to dash them away and gave my hand a hard squeeze with the other. "Kim is tough. She'll be okay."

"I know," I said, when in actuality, I knew nothing of the sort, but I wanted to believe it. For both our sakes, I changed the topic of conversation. "Do you think it was a robbery?" I asked. "When I went inside, I saw things were messed up, and Jasper confirmed that for me, but once I knew that Kim was missing, I really didn't process anything else."

Except the blood on the rug.

Little Bird stared off into space without answering my question. "The deputies are over there now investigating," I said. "They didn't want me in the way while they worked, but they said some detectives would be out soon to ask us questions. So, I don't know for sure, but it makes sense that it was a break-in that Kim came home and interrupted."

We heard Jasper's truck lurching up the road and we hurried to meet him.

One look at his dejected expression and I knew there would be no good news.

"Tell me, please. What did you find?"

He unfolded himself from the cab, pulling the Stetson from his head and stood fiddling with it. "We did our damnedest, Miss PJ, but we couldn't find hide nor hair of her. Not one blame thing. The guys are still out there looking and I promise you, if she's anywhere on the property, we'll find her."

We walked toward Little Bird, who was waiting on the front porch, searching her husband's eyes for some sort of revelation.

"And if she isn't on the property?" I asked.

"Shoot. She'll be walking up here any minute, wondering what all the fuss is about."

I nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah, probably. Listen, I'd better get back. Some detectives will be here soon to talk to me and to both of you."

They nodded. "We'll check on Pup, and then we'll come over and help you, PJ," Little Bird said. "You shouldn't face this alone."

I nodded. "Thanks. You've done so much already." I turned my attention to Jasper. "I want to apologize for earlier, when I freaked out."

"Oh, hey. You was just upset, is all."

"And scared. I'm still so scared." I looked down, blinking away tears. "But, if you hadn't taken Pup to the vet when you did..." I started to cry.

He took a shuffling step toward me, holding out his arms awkwardly and Little Bird joined us in a group hug.

I pressed myself into his damp shirt, sniffing back tears, breathing in the smell of moist earth and pine woods he and his friends had roamed, searching for Kim.

"We'll find her, and Pup'll be right as rain in no time. You'll see."

"We're with you," Little Bird added. "And she'll be home with you soon."

I gave them each another hug. "I hope you're right. I truly hope you're right."

Chapter 10

As the storm drew closer, the sky became a stage upon which heavenly beings swirled their skirts of light while throwing spears, cloud-to-cloud and cloud-to-earth. The storm was so close that the sound of each thunder clap joined the receding rumble of the one before it. I stood beside the window, mesmerized by the ferocity of Mother Nature. Even with the window closed, I could smell the phosphorus that lingered after each lightning strike. I ducked, reacting involuntarily to an explosion as a tree several hundred yards from the house erupted in flame.

Pup stiffened and growled. I knelt beside him. "It's all right fella, it's just the storm. It scares me, too." Pup pulled away from me. He hunched down and moved stealthily toward the door, his teeth bared. By the time he reached the hallway, he was a vicious predator stalking unseen prey. If he was trying to make me nervous, he was doing a good job of it. I followed him into the living room expecting to find the reason for Pup's displeasure, but there was nothing there. My tension eased until he growled again.

I knelt beside him, keeping my voice steady. "What is it, boy? Is there something out there?" I rose and peered through the rain-soaked window. "Relax, okay? There's nothing there. Why don't we go fix something to eat?"

I expected Pup to follow me into the kitchen as he usually did when food was mentioned. He liked to curl up in the corner, his nose on his front paws, his eyes watching our every move, hoping for a tidbit. We rarely fed him people food, other than a little piece of steak now and then. This time, when he didn't follow me into the kitchen, I grew worried and returned to the living room. Pup wanted to go out, but I wasn't about to let him out in the wild weather. He was sniffing at the base of the side door leading to the mud room when the lights went out.

"Shit. Where did I put that lantern?" With the lightning illuminating my passage, I went back into the kitchen to look for it, but stopped at the sound of another, much closer explosion. The noise reverberated off the walls and ceiling. "What the hell!" It sounded like a gunshot and it came from inside the house. I rushed back to the living room. I could have sworn I heard Pup yelp, but I couldn't be sure. The storm's racket was deafening.

"Pup," I called. "Where are you?"

"Oh my God."

In a flash of lightning, I saw Pup lying on the floor. When I dropped to my knees beside him, someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me backward. "You want to end up like him?" the harsh voice said. "You listen to me and you listen good."

"Let me at least help my dog. Then you can have whatever you want."

"Lady, you got nothing I want." The man was strong and well built, and there was little I could do. Thank the gods PJ isn't here, I thought. Right now the farther away she was, the better. Without warning, the man turned me around to face him and rammed the muzzle of a gun between my eyes. With his other hand, he grabbed my collar, twisting the material so that it was tight against my throat. He pulled my face close to his. The stocking he wore over his head failed to mask the odor of alcohol and tobacco on his breath. He leered at me for a moment, then pushed me downward.

Oh no, not rape.

"On your belly, bitch."

I did as he ordered.

"Jewels, you got jewels? And money?"

"I don't have much."

"Yeah, but the rich bitch who lives here has plenty."

"She's away. She has her money and jewelry with her. I have a hundred dollars in cash. In my purse over there."

The robber, still holding the gun on me, picked up my shoulder bag, emptying the contents onto the chair. He took the cash and tossed my wallet on the floor. I saw my credit cards tumble out, untouched.

"What else? A watch?"

"Take it." I held out my arm and he wrenched the band open.

"Shit. It's a piece of crap. How about this?" The medallion around my neck had slipped into his view and he peered at it. "What the hell is that thing?" He let it drop back against my shirt. "What about that ring?" He snatched at my left hand and I pulled away from him.

A voice from behind us stopped any further scuffling. "Forget that, Jake. Time to go."

So, there was someone else, an accomplice who remained in the shadows. Was Jake doing all the physical stuff and his companion giving orders? I couldn't tell for sure if it was a young man or a boy whose voice hadn't changed yet. From what little I could hear, he seemed to be better educated.

In all of the rough handling Jake had put me through, my medallion had fallen off its chain. I managed to slip it into my back pocket before my wrists and ankles were tied securely. They left me on my stomach near the back door. I turned my head just enough that I could see them cramming things into trash bags. Anger boiled up inside me, replacing my fear. How dare they come in here and take what was ours... what PJ and I had lovingly collected and placed in our home.

I rolled onto my side and then scooted myself onto my back. Keeping an eye on their movement, I fished the medallion out of my pocket and cupped it in my bound hands. If I got the chance to leave it behind, perhaps it would show PJ that I was trying to communicate with her. If things ended badly, at least she'd have it to remember me by.

I wriggled back onto my stomach, still listening and looking around as much as possible.

The thieves returned for the last load. I hadn't heard a sound from Pup and was sure he was dead. Tears stung my eyes. "Please, let me tend to my dog."

"Lady, I'm sick of your yapping." Rough hands rolled me through the doorway and onto the verandah. They left me there while they hauled the bags they'd filled to a vehicle I could barely make out in the darkness. I ran my fingers along the hewn wood beneath me and found a crack between the planks in the deck. I poked the medallion into one with a silent prayer to PJ. "Please find this and know that I'm not going willingly. I'm alive right now, and I'll keep trying to find my way back to you."

"Come on. Let's go." He braced himself to lift me. I resisted him with all my strength.

"Son of a bitch!"

I felt an explosion of pain in my head and was only vaguely aware of someone dragging me to a truck and lifting me over the tailgate.

"Careful where you step," said the second guy in a voice that was just above a whisper. "We don't want to leave more tracks than necessary."

"Think we ain't leaving tracks in this goddamn rain?" Jake said. "Think we ain't leaving tire tracks in this goddamn mud? It's a royal screw-up, if you ask me. Nobody was supposed to be home. Remember?"

Jake and the other guy tossed me to the front of the truck bed. I was aware of the sides and roof of a camper top surrounding me. I landed hard on my head and left shoulder. I heard a muffled, "Shut up and do what you...."

Everything went dark after that.

Chapter 11

After my visit with Little Bird and Jasper, I waited in our kitchen until the detectives arrived. Detective Mark Nelson from the Santa Fe County Sheriffs Department and Detective Sergeant Gina Esperanza from the New Mexico State Police came within minutes of each other and we introduced ourselves. They asked me to remain in the kitchen while they met with the other police officers on the scene.

Little Bird and Jasper must have been watching for the detectives. They joined me in the kitchen, and we kept busy putting out food and coffee for the police. Little Bird loaded the coffeemaker, put on a kettle, and assembled a pile of sandwiches which she left in the middle of the kitchen table with paper plates and insulated cups.

"When I'm uneasy, I cook," she said, giving me a wan smile. "It keeps my mind from too much worry."

While the detectives supervised the crime scene technicians, Little Bird put a batch of brownies into the oven. The familiar aroma of baking chocolate contrasted vividly with the reality of the situation. My stomach felt queasy. Our home had been invaded. How could I ever feel the comfort of this safe haven again, when it was neither safe, nor a haven any longer?

One unexpected benefit from Little Bird's cooking was that it brought a fairly steady stream of technicians into the kitchen for coffee or food. As each one came in, I approached them with variations of the same question.

"What have you found? What can you tell me?"

Their words differed, but the message was always the same. "We're doing our best. Give us some time to gather evidence. We can't tell you anything right now. Talk to the detectives in charge." They couldn't offer anything to reassure me that Kim was all right.

If I tried to ask the detectives for more information, they started in on me with questions of their own. Where was I last evening? When did I arrive home? Did I see anything unusual? What seems to be missing? Can you give us a list?

I survived their initial interrogation about my whereabouts during the last twenty-four hours and filled them in on the fight Kim and I'd had before I left. Since they weren't telling me anything useful, I waited for a chance to gather more information of my own. They walked me through the house to the room Kim and I had converted to an office, or as Kim liked to call it, the study. I noted that artwork was missing from spots on the walls and someone had removed artifacts from some glass cabinets in the great room. Was that enough to make the whole thing a burglary gone wrong? The acid in my stomach left the back of my throat burning, and my head pounded relentlessly.

Two technicians were still working in one corner of the office. They'd left powdered splotches during their search for prints, but they told the detectives that they had finished lifting prints and had taken digital photos of everything, so we found some unmarked, cushioned chairs and sat down.

I knew they'd want the upper hand in the conversation, so I jumped in before they could start. "Listen. My last name is Curtis," I told them. "Maybe you've heard of Curtis Shipping or Curtis Enterprises? I'm not without influence, you know, and I want some answers."

"Yes, ma'am," Detective Nelson said. "Lieutenant Keller made us aware of that fact. We assure you we're working all the angles, and you'll get answers once we have them."

Two more crime scene investigators came in. They carried Kim's watch and purse in their gloved hands. Sergeant Esperanza donned gloves and examined the items.

"Do these belong to your colleague?" she asked me.

She held them close enough so I could see them without touching them.

"Yes, the purse looks like Kim's and I bought the watch for her."

Another technician showed Detective Nelson what appeared to be Kim's wallet. It looked empty.

"Can you identify this as Ms. Blair's?" he asked me. I remembered seeing credit cards on the floor in the living room when I first entered the house, so it was a safe guess to assume that all of it had come from her purse. At the time, I failed to understand the significance.

"It's similar to one she owns, yes."

My mind was still barely functioning. Life was going on in front of me, but my reality was frozen in time from the moment I had seen the blood on the floor.

While the two detectives took the watch, purse, and wallet out of the room, I confronted the remaining young technician as he slapped labels onto a handful of tubes and made notations on them. "Have you found any more blood anyplace?"

He gave me a startled look. "You'll need to talk to the detectives."

"Damn it! They're doing something else. Everybody's doing something else. Please. All I get are platitudes. I need to know. The blood in the living room must be Pup's, but did you find blood in any other room? Can you please just tell me that?" I still felt a choking panic inside my chest, keeping me from drawing a full breath. Something bad had happened here. It was still happening, and I was powerless to do anything about it.

He cast a glance around, probably to see if he would be overheard. "This is unofficial, you understand. Without proper testing, we can't state anything for certain."

"Yes, yes of course. You could probably make an educated guess, though, right?"

"Okay. I'll say this much. I haven't seen anything else that looks like blood, but we'll have to test all of the samples we did find to be sure."

"Thank you." I reached out for his hand, but he pulled his sterile-gloved hands out of my reach. "Oh, sorry. I... Thank you so much. I'll let you get back to work now."

I sat back down, took a deep breath, and savored this small nugget of information. No other blood spilled was a good thing, wasn't it? Surely it had to be.

As I sat, I gave the office a closer inspection. It appeared the same to me, except for gray smudges on most of the light-colored furniture. I couldn't tell if anyone other than Kim had been in it recently. Our desks looked like they always looked. Her briefcase was open on the floor near her desk and her papers were spread out near her computer like she'd just stepped out for a quick snack or maybe to take a shower before getting back to work.

Only, she hadn't come back.

Shit.

The detectives returned and wanted to know more about our daily routine, specifically if I noticed anything unusual or out of place in the office. I suspected they were trying to get a picture of Kim's last hours at home.

At their request, I opened my files, logged on to Kim's computer and brought up her calendar with her appointments listed for the month. I also showed them photos and data of our trips during the last few weeks, both professional and private. It was obvious that while I hadn't come right out and admitted that Kim and I were life partners, both detectives had quickly made the connection. Sergeant Esperanza seemed quite accepting of the fact, but Detective Nelson looked like he had eaten something very distasteful whenever he had to speak to me.

"Are you able to tell us what you think she might have been wearing when she got home yesterday?" he asked.

"I'll try."

"We won't know for sure, if she's still wearing the same outfit, but we'll want to put out as accurate a description of her that we can with the BOLOs we broadcast. Her picture and personal statistics have already gone out."

I went to our bedroom and looked through Kim's side of the closet and then into the master bath to check the hamper. Seeing Kim's dirty clothes brought me to the brink of tears, but I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

"I think it might be fairly easy to determine what she was wearing, Detective. Kim's a creature of habit when it comes to clothing. For one thing, she hates to shop, so she has a very small wardrobe. Her idea of a successful clothes shopping trip is to go online to a dependable source of durable clothing like L.L. Bean, order the same style of cargo pants in three different colors, and tack on a dozen pairs of white socks, if she's feeling wild and crazy."

I watched him write details about Kim on his three-by-five pad and realized that I could probably fill several notepads with information about Kim. In a few short years, I'd gone from recognizing the name Kim Blair as a respected archaeologist, to knowing what kind of shampoo she used, how she squeezed the toothpaste tube so carefully from the bottom up, and how she enjoyed working Sudoku puzzles early in the morning before we officially woke up. "Getting her brain in gear," she called it. I could list so many intimate details about Kim's life, but I didn't know the single, most important thing: Where was she right now? When would I hold her close enough to breathe her melon and almond scented hair, or taste her minty toothpaste on my tongue when we kissed goodnight, or brush the eraser crumbs from our sheets when I woke up each morning?

"Ms. Curtis?"

I returned to my new reality. "Sorry?"

"Could you tell me what she was wearing yesterday when she returned to the ranch?"

"I think so. We know from her calendar that she was having lunch with Artie Crandell from the Indian museum in Santa Fe."

"Yes. We'll send someone to interview him about their meeting. Perhaps he'll remember what she had on and can corroborate your findings."

"If Artie can't, check with his personal assistant, Gloria Parson. She's a slave to the latest fashions and she'd remember."

He wrote a few words in his notebook. "Okay, you were saying?"

"Kim has some gray slacks that she likes to wear for special trips to town, and she pairs them with either a white shirt or a black-and-white checkered one. I see all three of her white shirts, but not the checkered. Also, she has two blazers that she wears over the shirts. Her black one's in the closet, but not her gray one, so I believe she was wearing pale gray slacks, a black-and-white checkered long-sleeved shirt, and a charcoal gray blazer. Oh, and black loafers. They're missing, too."

Nelson wrote furiously for several seconds. He and I then returned to the office where he gave his notebook to Sergeant Esperanza. I sat down in one of the padded chairs while she called someone on her cell phone.

As she spoke, Detective Nelson walked toward me.

"You haven't been completely honest with us about your relationship with Ms. Blair, have you?" He clicked the tip of his pen, repeatedly, his expression particularly sour.

"I've answered all your questions."

"But you didn't tell us the whole story, did you? You're more than colleagues?"

"Yes, that's true."

"And the reason we found your clothing in Ms. Blair's bedroom is—"

"Mark, that's enough. I think we have the picture." Sergeant Esperanza exercised her authority over the investigation with quiet intensity. She wasn't much taller than I, with a strong, compact build, chin-length, light-brown hair and a friendly, empathetic manner that masked her toughness. The combination had a calming effect on my shattered nerves. I especially liked the way she'd handled her masculine counterpart, despite her more diminutive size. She murmured a few words to Detective Nelson, and he squared his shoulders and left without argument.

"I'm sorry about that, Dr. Curtis. Mark's a little lacking in the sensitivity department these days." She took a seat beside me. I stared into her eyes and saw no hint of condemnation in them.

"You mean he's homophobic."

"A bit, maybe. But, I suspect there's more to it than that. We've worked together on joint assignments in the past, and he's a damn fine investigator."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off my fatigue and colossal headache. "He'll just have to deal with it," I said, finally losing my composure. "I can't change who I am, or who Kim is. The fact is that she's missing, and it appears she didn't leave willingly."

"And we plan to find her and bring her back to you." She closed her notebook and stretched, letting her gaze wander to every part of the room.

"You have a lovely home here. I'm sorry that this has happened to you both."

"Thanks. The weird thing is that something like this has happened before, only to me."

"Tell me about it."

"When we were in Wales, I was kidnapped and held for ransom." I related the whole story, including the attempted rape and Kim's former lover's attack. The sergeant listened without interrupting.

"Hmm. Do you think there's a connection?" she asked me when I'd finished.

"I doubt it." I mentally reviewed those stressful days. "The men who did it are all in jail. As for Terry Simms, it was a sexual thing with her. I don't believe there was any connection to my kidnapping. Anyway, she's on the run and wouldn't risk showing up here."

"Tell me about her anyway."

I recounted Terry's history with Kim and how she worked to help rescue me, only to attempt a sexual assault a few days after my release from the hospital.

Sergeant Esperanza took more notes as I spoke. When I finished, she circled several parts of what she had written down before looking at me.

"You and Dr. Blair have certainly been through the wringer. I promise you that we'll check every clue and explore every lead until we find her."

My eyes filled with tears at her words, but I held them in check. Later, maybe, I could afford to fall apart. There wasn't time for that now. "Thank you for your support, Sergeant Esperanza."

"Please, call me Gina. I married a wonderful guy with a colorful Spanish name, but I think we're going to be working closely together for a while, and all my friends call me Gina."

"And my friends call me PJ." We shook hands and shared a brief smile.

"Okay, PJ, let me give you an idea what we'll be doing."

"I'd appreciate that."

She consulted her notebook. "We've already set several things in motion. Time is a big factor, as you can imagine. Some of your neighbors have volunteered to help police units comb the property."

"Yes, Jasper, our caretaker, summoned them right after he saw what had happened here."

"It all helps, believe me. We'll also monitor all major means of transportation away from the area. The storm last night has both helped and hindered our search."

"In what way?"

"We've located a few tire tracks that don't appear to match any of your vehicles. Also a muddy footprint or two showed up on the porch, along with some drag marks. As for fingerprints, we can hope, but we figure the suspects wore gloves."

"Suspects? More than one?"

"Probably two in the house, possibly a third to drive a getaway vehicle. We'll know more once we process the shoe prints and examine all the evidence. We'll collect your fingerprints, ones we believe to be Dr. Blair's, and those of your housekeeper and handyman, for exclusion, and any others that we find will be scrutinized. If we're lucky, we'll find them in the system. Don't hold your breath on that, though. We've verified your whereabouts at the time of the break in, so you're no longer under suspicion."

"I was a suspect?"

"Briefly, yes. You admitted fighting with your partner before you left, so that gave you a possible motive for harming her. We also had to work the angle that Dr. Blair might have staged her own abduction to extort money from you."

"What? You can't be serious." My bottled up frustration burst loose and I leapt to my feet. "You should be out looking for her instead of wasting precious time investigating her."

She motioned that I should resume my seat. Reluctantly, I did.

"Listen, PJ, I've seen it all in my line of work. You're a wealthy woman, with an even wealthier father. Stranger things have happened, believe me."

I nodded wearily as she discussed the finding and processing of clues. Part of my overworked brain realized that her profession and mine weren't too different. We both accumulated bits and pieces of evidence of various human activities and tried to fill in the blanks. She just worked in present day, while I spent my time in the past. All of her efforts went toward solving crimes, while I tried to determine what daily life was like for the ancient people I studied.

"We asked you early on if you or Dr. Blair—"

"Why don't you call her Kim? She won't mind, and I think she'd like you, Gina."

"Okay. Can you think of any other enemies you or Kim might have?"

"I mentioned Terry Simms, and I guess she'd be considered an enemy after what she tried with me in Wales."

"She would, definitely. So we'll work that angle. Now, as for your abduction, you say all the men were caught and pled guilty?"

"They were imprisoned, for life, I believe. I testified before a magistrate, but I think the kidnapping charge was dropped in lieu of the more serious murder charges."

"What became of the Simms woman? Why wasn't she questioned?"

"She managed to flee the country. We assumed she'd gone into hiding."

"Do you think she's capable of doing something like this to Kim?"

I shrugged. "Oh, she's capable all right, but she's not stupid. I doubt she'd show her face anywhere near us now that she's wanted by the authorities. Sergeant Blodwyn Jones was in charge of the investigation in Wales. I'll give you her number and e-mail address."

"Okay, thanks. Any other past enemies or relationships that ended badly? Anyone who might want to harm either of you?"

"The only one in my past that I can think of would be Stephen Cresswell."

"And who is he to you?"

"He's an architectural engineer, specializing in the structural integrity of old buildings. We were engaged for a short time."

Her eyes widened. "Did you say engaged?"

"Yes. It was before I met Kim."

"Could you explain that a bit further?"

"The engagement was more Stephen's idea than mine. My priorities were pretty screwed up before Kim. When I got to know her and fell in love with her, everything suddenly fell into place."

"So you broke off the engagement."

"Yes."

"Do you think Cresswell still harbors a grudge?"

"The last I heard, Stephen had found someone else and was planning a big wedding. I'm sure he never gives me a thought these days."

Gina made more notes. "Can you think of any former students or associates in either of your lives who would want to do you harm? Maybe some of your father's enemies were after you, but got Kim by mistake."

I shuddered. "I suppose it's possible, but I really can't think of anyone who would do such a thing. You'll have to ask my dad about enemies. People make threats, and I'm sure his security people have kept a list. God, I'd hate to think I'm to blame for what's happened."

"PJ, I'm sorry if this is painful, but I have to try to cover all the bases. If there are other boyfriends or girlfriends in the picture, they become people of interest, and we need to investigate them."

When I replied, my voice weakened. I had to clear my throat to get my words out. "I understand. But, I want you to realize that this isn't the way we lead our lives. Privacy is a priority with us. When Kim and I fell in love, we knew it would be forever. Neither of us had ever felt such a strong attraction. It's corny, I know, but our love is eternal. There's no way anyone else will get between us. If somebody makes advances or shows an interest that way, we just stop it before it goes any further. I'm sure lots of men and women have these strong bonds. You said you're married?"

"Yes, I've been married eleven years to my best friend." Gina's expression softened. "And we have two fantastic boys."

"Then you understand how our relationship is. Exclusive. Sufficient. Heaven on Earth."

"Gotcha." Gina nodded. "That leaves your housekeeper and her husband. We'll run a background check, but what can you tell me about them?"

"They're wonderful people. They worked for the man who sold Kim the ranch. Jasper has been in ranching all his life. I think he's part Apache. Little Bird is Navajo on her mother's side. Her father was a biligaana. Did I say that right?"

"Close. Though it's spelled like 'bill,' it's pronounced more like 'bell.' Bell-a-gana."

"Anyway, he was a white man. She attended white schools and has lived away from her mother's people, but follows a lot of the Dine traditions."

"Could she or her husband be behind Kim's disappearance?"

"Not a chance. Little Bird cooks for us and keeps the house spotless. Jasper tends to outdoor chores and makes minor repairs to the house, barn, and all the outbuildings. When Kim and I are away, we trust them to watch over the place as if it were their own. Even though they work for us in a variety of roles, we couldn't get along without them. They're like members of our own family."

Little Bird took that moment to bring us some tea and coffee. After dispensing the beverages, she eyed Gina warily before pausing beside me. I wondered if she'd overheard Gina's last question.

"PJ, have you eaten anything since you got home?" Little Bird laid her hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

Since I got home. Was that this morning? God, what a long, terrifying day. I took a sip of Earl Grey. "This is fine, really," I told Little Bird. "I'm not hungry."

She made mother hen clucking noises. "This is not fine, little one."

I winced at her use of one of Kim's endearments. A flood of painfully poignant memories flashed into my mind before I could stop them. No time for anguish right now. No time for tears, or fears. Clues must be found and examined, the bastards caught, and the love of my life returned to me. That was the only outcome I'd accept.

Little Bird hovered over me. "You must eat something. Kim will not want you sick when she returns."

"I know. I'll try something later, honest." I changed the subject. "Any word on Pup? Can I see him?"

"Jasper called the vet a little while ago. Pup came through the surgery and is resting comfortably."

This time I couldn't stop the tears. Several slid down my cheeks, and Little Bird thrust a tissue into my hands. "That's so good to hear. I need to be there when he wakes up. He'll be missing Kim so much."

"You just concentrate on getting Kim back here safe and sound. Jasper will take care of Pup. He'll bring him back to you as soon as Dr. Ressler says it's okay." She gave me a brief hug and kissed my forehead. Her two hundred pounds of motherly affection felt warm and wonderful.

"Thank you, Little Bird. You're like a friend and a mother all rolled into one, but I really have to see Pup."

"Sorry, PJ," Gina said. "That won't be possible. Until we know what's going on here, we have to assume your life is in jeopardy, too."

"But—"

"No buts. That's an order."

I rubbed my eyes. "Shit. Now, I've got two mothers."

Little Bird smacked her head lightly. "Oh my goodness! Speaking of mothers, I nearly forgot. Your father and stepmother called earlier and left a number. Somehow he got word of this trouble. You must call him back as soon as you can."

I gave Gina some more background information and left her checking through some of Kim's correspondence while I pulled out my cell phone, looked for a quiet place, and dialed my dad. Since the number was long and my hands were shaking, it took me several tries to make the connection to Greece. Dad and Sue would require a rehashing of the whole scary, surreal story. Each time I had to face the facts, the situation grew more desperately real and frightening. Kim, my lover, my other half, had been taken from me by some cruel means. She might already be dead, but I refused to believe that. Surely, if she were, I would know it in my heart, in the very depths of my soul. Part of me would have died along with her, and I didn't feel that empty. Not yet, anyway.

Across the airways, across the barriers of space and time, Dad's voice boomed into my ear, providing the support I desperately needed.

"Oh my God, Dad. Someone's taken Kim."

Chapter 12

I fought to stay calm and to assess my situation. I was in the back of a pickup truck that had a metal camper shell cover. Two garbage bags full of stuff were wedged in beside me. I'd seen Jake ransacking the house while I lay hogtied by the front door. I pleaded with my head to stop hurting so that my fog-bound brain could recall other details of what had happened. There had been a second person in the house, but I never heard Jake call him by name. He'd stood in the shadows and didn't say much, nor did he take part in the looting or in binding my hands and feet. He appeared to be quite young. A teenager perhaps, learning the criminal trade, so to speak.

A quick check confirmed that my hands and feet were still tied, and the floor of the truck bed was hard. Every bump in the road translated into pain in my shoulders and hips. My head throbbed. Wave after wave of nausea assaulted me. I suspected the blow to my head had caused a concussion.

Although it was dark, I knew the moment we turned from our private road onto the highway. The right turn told me we were heading north. I thought if I could keep track of direction, the information would later assist the police in catching these guys. I did my best to stay in control, but I wasn't able to remain conscious. When I came to, I had no idea how long I'd been out or where we might be. Not that it mattered much. These guys were probably amateurs. Jake had said they hadn't expected anyone to be home. Since I'd caught them red-handed, I doubted they were going to leave a witness to their crime. I remembered reading once that an amateur thief is far more dangerous and unpredictable than a professional. I'd have to be careful what I said to them and how I handled them. Handled them! That was a joke. So far they'd done all the handling.

My joints screamed from contact with the cold, hard bed of the truck. The driver had the pedal to the metal, and whenever we hit a bump in the road, it rattled the pickup and me. I longed for some painkillers and more clothing to keep the cold from penetrating through to my bones. These guys wouldn't have to have to kill me; hypothermia and my splitting headache would do it for them.

During my more lucid moments, I tried to figure out who they could be. Many of the locals knew that PJ and I were away much of the time. The best logical explanation I could come up with was that a couple of local kids, desperate for some drug money, thought we were both away, and took their chances. I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I forced myself to think of something pleasant. It would make me feel better.

PJ. Thoughts of you always made me feel better. Where are you, honey? What are you doing? You're due home tomorrow, but maybe that's today by now. I was so looking forward to seeing you, holding you in my arms, and begging forgiveness. That fight we had—

Another bump jerked me back to my predicament as pain shot through my body. I strained to look at the small, grimy window in the back door of the camper cover. Dirt, scratches and some rainbow-like flaring distorted my view, but I was able to determine from the light that dawn was approaching.

Okay, if I can see daylight dawning through the back window, and it's the beginning of June, it means we're traveling more or less west/southwest. The calculations didn't help much, other than taking my mind off the pain for a few seconds.

Our speed altered. We were stopping. Was this it? Is this where they'd end it for me? I heard the driver's side door open and saw flashing red lights. Police! Maybe they'd stopped these guys for speeding.

The truck's camper hatch opened.

"We're going for some breakfast." Jake leaned in and stuffed a dirty cloth in my mouth. "Ham and eggs. Bet you'd like some, huh?" He straightened up. "You behave yourself and maybe we'll feed you. Then again, maybe we won't. Make a peep, though, and we'll feed you to the coyotes." The hatch slammed shut. The sound and vibration drummed through my aching head like a jack hammer.

When I closed my eyes against the flashing neon lights, I could still hear the sign buzzing. It made my stomach queasy. That reminded me of the time PJ and I had taken a short trip to Mexico, shortly after we'd wrapped up the Lost Tribe search in the Superstition Mountains of Arizona. We wanted to do something wild and crazy, so without much thought or planning, we headed to Puerto Penasco, where we had a pleasant couple of days beside the Gulf of California. That was before a bout of Montezuma's Revenge gripped us.

Do you remember those two days when we were so sick, PJ? We tried our best to nurse each other through it, both of us on our knees in the bathroom, taking turns over the toilet bowl, barely able to drive ourselves back across the border. We knew better than to drink the water, but we were so in love that we felt invulnerable.

I slipped into an uncomfortable sleep, but awoke when Jake returned, opened the back end of the truck, and climbed in. He removed the gag and set a carryout plate filled with bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me.

"How do you think I'm going eat with my hands tied?"

"Same way your dog did, bitch. If it was up to me, you'd starve."

He made it sound as though it was my other captor who was at least willing to give me something to eat. Young Mr. No Name was my hope. I'd have to work on him, convince him to let me go.

Oh, PJ, you're going to find Pup dead. You'll be brokenhearted. You and he were such good friends. Remember when we were in Lesvos, how he took care of you in the labyrinth, stayed with you, and loaned you his strength? I loved him, too. He was my good buddy. He tried to protect me last night.

I swallowed hard. There'll never be another to take his place.

I leaned forward and seized a slice of bacon in my teeth, broke off a small piece and dipped it into the over-easy eggs. Sucking it into my mouth was not easy, but I managed. Despite my predicament and my distressed stomach, I was hungry and I needed to keep up my strength. I kept eating, animal fashion, until I was too exhausted to continue. I thought about how we sophisticated human beings can regress when we have to. The will to live is powerful.

When Jake saw that I wasn't eating any more, he yanked the plate away and threw me onto my side. He gunned the motor as we left the diner, then made a couple of quick turns. We were moving along at a good clip. Judging from the fast moving traffic and the number of big rig trucks, we were either on an interstate or a freeway and heading more or less west, or so I thought. After a while, we turned left and headed in a southerly direction.

I must have fallen asleep or passed out again because the next thing I felt was bumping over rough ground. We rolled to a stop, and I heard Jake tell his partner that he needed to take a leak. I needed to go, too. Badly.

Jake opened the back and looked in and then started to close it again.

"Hey," I said, my voice hoarse, "I have to go, too."

"Tough shit. Just pee in your pants." He began to walk away, but left the hatch up.

I heard the younger man say something.

Jake returned, muttering under his breath. "Come on, bitch." He dropped the load gate and pulled me out of the truck. He stood me up and loosened the binding around my feet and hands.

"Can't have you peeing on any of this precious loot, now can we?"

I was dizzy and unsteady. He dragged me behind some bushes. "Do it quick and no funny stuff. I'd just as soon kill you as look at you." While relieving myself, I searched the terrain. It was too open to try an escape. The highway wasn't too far away, but I'd be dead before I'd get ten yards.

I staggered out from behind the bushes. Jake wrenched my arm, nearly yanking my shoulder from its socket and shoved me back in the truck. He tightened the bindings again, and my head throbbed from the exertion.

I don't know what's going to happen, PJ. They're feeding me so they obviously don't want me dead yet. I don't know what they intend to do, but I have a feeling they'll eventually kill me. They dare not let me go. I could identify them, or at least this Jake fellow. He's the dangerous one. His companion has stayed pretty much out of sight. I haven't seen his face, but I think he's quite young. Maybe a teenager. That's about all I can say about him. He doesn't seem to have the cruel streak that Jake does. If I could just get through to him with Jake out of the way. It's not going to happen, though. Jake's just too smart to take a chance like that.

We bounced solidly into a pot hole jarring me from head to toe. Every part of my body hurt.

I just want you to know, PJ, that I love you so very much. You know what hurts more than anything? The fact that I'm most likely never going to see you again.

Chapter 13

Little Bird's nudge nearly sent me tumbling from my desk chair. Detective Nelson had relieved Gina, and I had dozed off while waiting for him to come up with the next redundant question he would throw at me.

"She's exhausted, can't you see that? Let her get some rest." Little Bird used her considerable size to heft me up against her hip.

"I'm sorry." I yawned and turned back to him.

"No more questions, Detective." Little Bird guided me toward the master bedroom.

Detective Nelson trailed behind us. "I'll remind you that this is a police investigation."

Little Bird ignored him. She pushed me gently through the bedroom door and closed it at my back with an emphatic thump. Through the closed door, I could hear her firm voice. "If you must remain here, you can sleep on the sofa, but you may not talk to her again until she has slept."

"You don't seem to understand that we need information in order to find this missing woman."

"I do understand, and Dr. Blair means the world to me, but badgering Dr. Curtis until she collapses is not going to help you or them."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll try again later."

I leaned against the door. After four days away from home, I had pictured my return in a multitude of ways. Nothing came remotely close to an empty house, injured pet, stolen valuables, and missing spouse. My dreams had become nightmares.

I ran the shower to get the water hot, stripped off my clothing, and searched for my large T-shirt and soft cotton drawstring shorts. I located the shorts, but couldn't find the shirt. Had they stolen that, too? Not likely. Kim's familiar, faded scrub suit top still hung on the bathroom door, so I pulled it on after showering and drying myself. The hem fell to mid-thigh, but the fabric smelled wonderful. I kept tugging the sleeve against my nose to inhale the comforting mango scent of Kim's soap.

The poor cats had vanished when the police came and I hadn't seen or heard them since. They often slept with us or Pup, but today their routine was shot—literally—to hell, and Pup was in a veterinary hospital. I wasn't allowed to go see him, and I'd neglected Cleo and Jackie shamefully. Thank goodness for Little Bird. She and Jasper had taken care of all our four-legged family members.

Our bed which normally looked inviting was only huge and empty now. I crawled in on my side, but quickly shifted to Kim's. Sure enough, her essence remained on the pillow. I buried my face in it and smelled mango, herbs, fresh woodlands, and a hint of... raspberry. What? Why raspberries? I slipped my hand under her pillow and encountered an article of clothing. I sat up and switched on the table lamp. My T-shirt had been under her pillow. Tears filled my eyes and a warm glow spread through my chest.

"Oh, Kimmy. You missed me while I was gone. You craved my scent, just as I hungered for yours." I turned off the light and pressed my cheek against her pillow. "I wanted to apologize. I wanted to kiss and make up the minute I got home."

My throat constricted. Tears fell freely. "I'm going to find you. Please, don't give up. You just hang on."

The room was silent and dark. Its emptiness filled me with profound longing. "You know how stubborn I can be, so believe me." I hugged her pillow to my chest. "I will find you."

Sometime during the night, I thought I heard Pup whine, but then I realized he wasn't with me. I woke up to sense another person in the room. Before I could cry out, a warm hand covered my mouth.

"Calm yourself, child. Do not be afraid."

Jesus H. Christ. The shaman was making an appearance. She removed her hand and I struggled to sit up.

"Why can't you come in the daytime?" I switched the bedside light on. "And we fixed up a room for you like you wanted. Why are you here in the bedroom? You scared the shit out of me, Grandmother."

She settled her considerable weight on the bed beside me and clasped my hand. "It seems that these journeys are more easily accomplished at night. Spirits are more powerful then, I guess. There wasn't time to alert you or spread sage nearby. I'm sorry if I frightened you. It was not my intent."

I shuddered at her proximity and chills raised goose bumps along my bare arms. "Now that you're here and I'm almost awake, give me some news. Do you know where Kim is? Is she okay?"

"It doesn't work like that." She rubbed my wrists and tried to embrace me, but I resisted. Too much affection would bring me to tears. I needed answers, concise answers, and she seemed to understand that. "All of us have been searching for signs. We've prayed to the Goddess for directions for you both. I feel that there will be an answer soon, but you must be patient."

Her words left a lot to be desired. "Patience is one thing I don't have right now, Grandmother. Can you at least tell me if she's still alive? My heart tells me she is, but I realize that I'm not unbiased in my judgment right now."

"I can tell you truthfully that we all believe she is alive. We still feel her life force in the stones we cast and the herbal embers remaining in our fire pits after we perform our rituals."

"Thank you." My body trembled with relief. "I was afraid it was all in my mind." I sensed her form was fading, but maybe that was only my vision blurring with tears. "Thank you, Grandmother."

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled my head to her breast. "Do not fight your sorrow, child. You love her and you miss her. Amazons do cry at times like these."

Her physical form vanished completely, and I was left clutching Kim's soggy pillow.

*   *   *

The truck was moving again, bumping over rocks and intensifying the pain that racked my body. I knew the moment we turned back onto the highway; the bumps were less frequent, not as jarring. But even the slightest thump was agony to my ankles, hips, shoulders, and elbows. The pain of each blow exacerbated the throbbing pain of my headache.

Darling, how do I get myself out of this situation and get back to you? I miss you so much. I need your touch to soothe my aching body, and your kisses to tell me all is right with the world. An unintended groan escaped me when we hit a pothole. What are you thinking about? What are you doing? Don't worry, my little one, I'm going to get out of this somehow.

Somehow is such a big word. Somehow, Scott went to the Antarctic, but he never came home. Somehow, Joan of Arc rallied the troops, and we both know what happened to her. I have to think of better examples and return to you.

I searched my mind for a way out of my predicament. My only hope was with the young man. If I could find an opportunity to talk to him alone and convince him that it wasn't too late to turn his life around, maybe he would help me.

It was near midday, that much I knew by what little I could see through the back window. The sun was high and the lighting had that flat, disinteresting quality that the noon hour brings.

We had been driving for what seemed like an hour, when we turned onto another rough road. We bumped to a stop after approximately five minutes, and I heard voices coming from the cab. It sounded like my captors were arguing. Was that good news or bad? Would it upset the balance of power between them and mean an early release for me, or a quicker death?

They could dump my body out in this godforsaken place and no one would ever find it. My bones would be picked clean in an hour or less.

And what of PJ, if I were to disappear like that? What if she were to think that I'd left her on purpose? God, I could only imagine the pain she'd feel.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. Survival was top priority. I had to find a way to get out of this truck and return to her in one piece. "Humph. Easier said than done."

I couldn't understand what they were saying, but the youth seemed to be in command. I felt a surge of hope. If he could control Jake, then maybe, just maybe, I'd have a chance. If I could talk him into dropping me off at the side of the road with no questions asked, I could always hitch a ride to the closest town.

Moments later, the two got out of the truck and the heated argument continued outside. "You may be the boss, but I'm not taking any more of your shit-for-brains ideas." While I could hear everything that Jake said, the kid spoke so quietly that I couldn't make out the words. They continued arguing for several minutes, but the boy never raised his voice. He seemed to be the more controlled and levelheaded of the two.

If only I can get through to the boy. But wait, Jake had referred to him as the boss. Was he paying Jake? Was Jake just hired to do the dirty work? The picture I had in mind was changing, and not for the better. My one slim hope was fading.

"You don't pay me enough," Jake said. "Anyways, your plans are crazy. You'll get us both killed. I'm not taking any more orders from—"

"Geez!" A gunshot reverberated against the metal of the truck, followed by a moan and then silence. I almost jumped out of my skin.

I pushed myself as far into the corner as I could. My heart hammered in my chest, and I wanted to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible. I needn't have worried; no one came to check on me. One of my captors—was there only one left now?— slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door. We drove off at a fast clip, tossing me around violently, leaving me physically as shaken as I felt emotionally.

Chapter 14

"Dear God, it's good to see you." I crushed myself against Dad's chest, absorbing his comforting strength. I managed to choke out those words before tearfully greeting my stepmother. "I know I told you not to come, but it's been three days now without a ransom note or any communication. Anything could have happened to Kim and I'm going crazy. So, I'm glad you didn't listen and came anyway."

My father's eyes showed the pain he was feeling. "You know we'd want to be here to help anyway we can. Maybe I could offer a reward for information."

"I don't know, Dad. You could talk to the detectives. They're in the kitchen right now, but they said they weren't staying long."

"How are you holding up?" Sue, my stepmother, asked, gripping my hand with a reassuring smile.

I exhaled and took my father's hand as well. Their physical strength was so supportive. "It's been a madhouse, but we're all hanging in there. Let me introduce you to the crew." The cats had been in the bedroom keeping Pup company as he convalesced. They eyed the new arrivals warily before slinking into the room, weaving themselves between my legs, accepting a few soft words of greeting and admiration with seeming indifference.

"You heard me mention Cleo and Jackie," I said, trying not to trip over either of them as we moved. "They joined the family just before Christmas. Cleo is the mostly black, feisty one, with the white paws and white patch under her chin and Jackie is the calico." I picked up Cleo, who promptly jumped down and led Jackie back to the bedroom. "Right now, they're sticking close to Pup."

"How's he doing?" Dad asked.

"Jasper brought him home last night and he's been sleeping a lot. He'll be okay after he regains his strength. The vet said the bullet didn't hit anything major, but he lost a lot of blood."

I introduced my parents to Gina and Detective Nelson. Sue left Dad discussing strategy with them and accompanied me to the kitchen.

Little Bird was just pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.

"Welcome," she said. "Please sit down and I'll put the kettle on for some tea."

"That would be lovely, if it's not too much trouble," Sue said, taking a seat at the large oak table. She looked at the tray of cookies. "Those smell fantastic."

"Oh, they are. Kim and PJ love them. As soon as they cool, we'll have some with our tea." She looked at me. "I'm sorry they don't have cashews in them this time, PJ. I had to use walnuts."

"Not a problem," I assured her. "You two get better acquainted, and I'll be right back. I want to check on Pup."

He raised his head when he heard me come into the bedroom.

"Hey, big guy. What's up?" His tail gave a listless thump, and his jaws opened wide in a yawn. I knelt beside his large oval dog bed which he now shared with the kitties. "I see you have your bodyguards with you." I rubbed his head and finger-combed the thick hair at his neck, the best I could with the e-collar he was required to wear so that he couldn't lick his wounds. I remembered to go under the collar to scratch that special spot in back of his ears. He moaned and licked my cheek when I leaned closer. Both sides of his hip had been closely shaved. The entry and exit wounds looked ugly, but they were clean and free of infection.

"I know, sweetie. The pain medication really knocks you out, doesn't it?" I kept one hand on him and let the other slide down to stroke the cats curled around his stomach. They seemed to know to leave his wounds alone. Cleo and Jackie viewed me through half-closed eyes. They purred and repositioned their front paws after licking them two or three times. "Hey family. We're all here, except one, and she'll be back soon." I had to keep telling myself that to make myself believe it.

As if recognizing the sorrow in my voice, Pup whined.

"We're working on finding her, but it's a great big country out there with way too many places to disappear into."

My knees started hurting so I lowered my butt to the floor and stretched my legs out in front of me.

"The police have checked all possible sightings, but nothing has panned out yet. None of the stolen items have surfaced. They found a set of fingerprints that don't match anybody yet and a set of strange tire tracks."

I leaned my back against the wall and draped one arm over the padded side of Pup's bed.

"Yesterday, one of the searchers found some trampled grass, cigarette butts, and gum wrappers at a couple of spots with views of the ranch. Gina and her partner stopped in to tell me that they think the house had been under surveillance from just off the nature trail. They're going to station a couple of police officers on the property for security. The butts were sent for DNA testing, so that might reveal something, eventually. A group of birdwatchers reported seeing two people sitting on the hillside looking toward the house, but they didn't consider it strange at the time."

Pup snorted.

"Yeah, I know how you feel. The stalking idea gives me the creeps, too. That might give us a lead, though, if we can question the tour guides and some frequent visitors. They may have taken photos or made videos. The detectives will probably tell Dad all this, but I just couldn't. He'd only want to pack me up and take me back to Boston or over to Lesvos with them for safekeeping. I can't worry about people watching the place, or if I'm in any danger. Kim's gone, and I have to find out where she is. I can't do that from far away."

Pup looked at me, his usually bright eyes dull and sad.

"I know you miss her." Tears welled up and I barely stifled a sob. "I do, too. It's killing me not knowing where she is."

I folded my arms across the top edge of his bed, lowered my head, and cried. After a while, Pup licked my fingers and snuffled softly. Cleo stood and stretched, approaching me tentatively. I wiped my eyes and leaned back against the wall, coaxing her to climb up my stomach. From there, she perched on my chest and began to knead, her yellow-green eyes closing further with each push. Then she sat on her folded paws as if she were hatching an egg. Her purring must have lulled me to sleep because Sue found us later, in that same position.

*   *   *

"That feels so good, Sue." I was stretched out on the bed, face down; Cleo and Jackie curled up beside me, while my stepmother massaged the tight muscles around the back of my neck. "Mmm... a hot shower, some Advil, and herbal tea. Now magic fingers to smooth out the knots. You're just what the doctor ordered."

"I had to do something. Your stress level must be through the roof." She continued to work the knots out of my neck and back with strong, even strokes.

My cell phone warbled and we both tensed. Ever since Kim's disappearance, I felt a moment of panic whenever any phone rang.

"PJ Curtis," I said, after clearing my throat.

"Hi, PJ. It's Lawrence Peterson."

I covered the mouthpiece and grimaced at Sue. "My guy Friday."

"Yes, Lawrence. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine at this end, but I was checking your calendar for next week. Your trip to Chaco Canyon is on the schedule."

"Already? I forgot all about it. With all that's happened around here, maybe I can cancel or something."

"I doubt you can do that," he said. "Remember you have that check to present. They'll be counting on you."

I felt the headache returning and rubbed my temple.

Sue hissed behind me. "Let me have that." Without waiting for my response, she took the phone and pushed me firmly, but gently back down on the bed. "Hello, Lawrence? This is Susanna Armstrong-Curtis. Yes, PJ's stepmother, and I'm afraid your phone call is causing her undue stress right now." She paused. "No, not right now. We're in the middle of something. Yes, maybe tomorrow. Fine, I'll tell her. Good-bye." She terminated the call. "How do you stand that young man?"

I coughed into the bed sheet. "Oh, he's usually pretty harmless. He does want to take me out to dinner the next time I'm in Boston, however. Can you imagine what Kim would..." I fell silent.

Sue resumed her massage. "At least I deterred him for tonight."

"He has a point, though. That meeting at Chaco Canyon is one we were supposed to attend. There's a check from the Curtis Foundation to present. Someone will have to go."

"Maybe your dad could go in your place," Sue suggested, pulling the top sheet and blanket up over my shoulders.

"Maybe. I recruited volunteers, though. The meeting was to set up work crews as well as make the donation. I guess I'll have to go."

She sat on the edge of my bed. Pup limped into the room, licked my hand, and flopped down inside his bed with a hefty groan. The cats stretched and decided to stay with me. I tried to empty my mind of all the myriad details of the day. Thoughts of Chaco Canyon and my trip there with Kim intruded for several seconds. I let myself recall wandering through large kivas and examining precisely craned stone walls that had towered above us. That reminded me of the dig site on Lesvos and the labyrinth, which led to memories of the first site I'd ever worked with Kim. So much had happened to us since the Superstition Mountains and the search for a lost tribe of Amazons.

"Want to talk about anything? Either stepmom to stepdaughter or friend to friend?"

I opened my eyes and refocused. "I was just thinking about the last few years. Do you think that everything happens for a reason? I mean, is everything you do connected in some way?"

"In a religious way? Like we're predestined to do things or make decisions?"

"Not exactly. I was just wondering what my life would've been like if I'd never begged Dad to let me work with the illustrious Dr. Kimberly Blair. What if we'd never met?"

"Are you having regrets?"

"No, not at all. I'm thinking more about all the wonderful things I would've missed if I hadn't met and fallen in love with her."

"You two have had some pretty scary adventures, from what I hear. Your father told me once that he feels one of the best things about your relationship with Kim is that she keeps you grounded. I'd sure hate to have seen you before, if that's the case. You must have been a firebrand... too hot to handle."

I smiled. "I guess I didn't have anyone in my life to give it purpose. These last three years have been the most incredible of my life." I touched the ring on my left hand, giving it a gentle twist. "When you and Dad were on your honeymoon, Kim and I spent a glorious weekend at a villa she picked out as a surprise for me."

"Very thoughtful of her."

"We strolled along the beach and watched the moon rise over that part of the Aegean."

"Sounds romantic."

"It was." I held up my left hand. "See this ring? Kim has one just like it." My throat tightened. "We had our own marriage ceremony right there, standing barefoot in the sand. It was beautiful."

"Oh, honey." Sue leaned over, brushed the hair back from my face, and kissed my cheek. Her eyes were moist. "We're going to find her, you'll see."

"God, I hope you're right." I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. "The night before my last trip, we had a fight."

"Oh, PJ—"

"It was awful. We didn't hug or kiss good-bye, or anything. I left before she woke up so I wouldn't have to face her and was gone for four days. We talked by phone about incidentals, but we avoided the real problem. I never told her I was sorry." I sniffed and rubbed my nose. Sue produced a tissue. "I have to get her back so I can apologize. She has to know how much I love her."

"She knows." Sue helped me put on my robe and gave my shoulders a hug. "No matter where she is, she knows."

Chapter 15

I amazed myself with how much information my mind could process even when I wasn't able to see what was happening. The driver's side of the cab didn't shift as much, so I knew someone lighter had climbed in. And the door hadn't slammed as forcefully. Since Jake's conversation was halted by the sound of a gun, I assumed that something had happened to him and now the younger man was in the driver's seat. Jake had driven fast, but he'd kept the hard turns to a minimum. The new guy swerved often, but still hit potholes as if deliberately aiming for them, making my ride even more uncomfortable.

I sensed he was angry and impatient. He had, until the argument, remained in the background, but now he might be alone and in charge. If he'd shot Jake, he could easily have left him back there in some godforsaken corner of this desolate country. Nothing survived for long in this rough terrain without food, water, and protection from the sun.

I didn't feel sorry for Jake or the other man, but I did worry how any change in their routine would affect me. I was hoping to convince the young man to let me go, but if he'd shot or killed Jake, he wasn't likely to do that. The weapon was the problem now. I heard it go off. How could I reason with anyone willing to shoot someone? How could I face down a bullet? I feared this new concept, and I listened hard for the sound of Jake up there with the young man. Even another moan or two would be welcome. Scary as Jake was, at least he hadn't been crazy, and as best I could tell, this younger thug just might be.

PJ, I don't know what's going to happen now. Things have definitely changed and not for the better. I won't give up, though. I have to keep thinking, trying for a way to escape, if I can.

The vehicle broke every speed limit. I kept hoping I'd hear a State Trooper's siren behind us. Where were they when you needed them?

After a hard left turn, we went off the road, fishtailed around a curve, and scattered loose gravel. I rolled up against the sides of the truck bed. Pieces of wood, bags, and boxes thumped against my already bruised body. When the driver slowed his breakneck dash, the ride remained bumpy, but wasn't quite as jolting.

I must have blacked out for a bit, but I came to when the truck rolled to a stop. The driver got out and I heard voices, but only the words "doctor" and "archaeologist" made sense. It didn't sound like Jake and the young man. Before I could hear any more, the voices faded.

By rolling myself into a sitting position, I was able to see the top of what appeared to be a mesa. I struggled to reach the level of the dirt-encrusted window, but only managed to get to my knees by the time the driver returned. When the truck started moving, I was thrown to the floor. I was hungry, thirsty, and in pain. I needed to go to the bathroom again. The fact that we were moving slowly was a relief.

We had been stopped for some time before the truck's back hatch opened and the young man appeared. He was clad in jeans and a rumpled black sweatshirt. A red baseball cap with a farming logo was perched on his head and a blue bandana stretched across the lower half of his face. Dark glasses obscured his eyes, and a pair of woolen gloves covered his hands. It was hardly a good choice for the heat of the day, but it was enough that I'd never recognize him. In addition to the disguise, he carried a faded blue backpack. Hoisting himself up to the truck's bed, he braced on one knee and grabbed me by my shoulders, dragging me out like a sack of grain. When I fell to the ground, he kicked me once in the ribs and kept his foot against my side so he could unleash the bindings around my ankles. With the business end of a gun no more than eighteen inches from my head, he yanked me upright.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?" He ignored my questions and pulled, pushed, and dragged me along a path that wound between the ruins of an ancient civilization. My feet, having been tied for so long, refused to work. Supporting me seemed to be something of an effort for the slightly built young man. He compensated for his lack of strength by keeping the gun pointed at my head.

"What have I done to deserve this?" I sagged to my knees, but he forced me to keep moving.

The few hundred yards we crossed felt like a mile in my weakened condition. We stopped beside an aluminum ladder that protruded from a hole in the ground.

"Down," my captor said in a growling tone. He prodded me with the gun.

My feet slipped off the rungs and I slithered more than climbed down the ladder.

At the bottom, after my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I realized I was in an ancient, partially crumbling kiva. One side of it appeared to be quite stable, though. Someone, probably my captor, had bolted chains into the solid wall. Assorted objects littered the floor of the kiva. One particularly insidious piece of equipment resembled a dog collar with spikes pointing inward.

My insides went cold as I imagined how it might be used, and the chill I felt made my bladder protest. "I have to pee."

He ignored me, pushed me back against the wall so I was facing outward into the kiva, and locked me into the chains, twisting my injured arm and shoulder. I cried out in pain. My arms ached in such an awkward and unusual position.

And I'd thought I could reason with this person.

He closed the dog collar around my neck. As long as I faced forward and kept my head level I was okay. If I looked up, down, or sideways too much, the metal lining bit into my flesh.

"Please. I have to pee," I repeated, hating myself for whimpering.

The young man reached into the corner for a bucket, stuck it between my legs, unzipped my pants, and pulled them down.

"What are you doing?" My movement caused the spikes to jab my neck. He spread my legs, poked the bucket between them, and I had no choice. I had to go. When I finished, he hoisted my pants up and emptied the bucket over my feet.

He swung the pack off his shoulders and rummaged through it, producing a paper sack containing half a loaf of bread, some wrapped cheese slices, and a bottle of water. He loosened my hands long enough for me to eat and drink, but kept the gun trained on me the whole time. With every swallow, the collar bit into my neck, and the odor of my own urine wafted around me. When I had eaten as much as I could without gagging, he refastened the wristlocks and left, pulling the ladder up and out of the kiva.

"Wait! Don't leave me like this."

Even if I hadn't been chained, I couldn't climb out without the ladder.

Moving just my eyes to prevent more bites from the spikes in the collar, I looked around. I saw boxes piled in one corner and a folding chair in the shadows.

Someone had planned ahead for a captive. They'd prepared this chamber. Was all this work for me? Or someone else?

I was fed. Whoever had set this all up intended to keep a victim for a little while at least. Would they still want a ransom for me, or had they intended to snatch PJ?

Despite the frantic leaping of my mind, I must have passed out, but a sharp jab to my neck brought me around. I felt a trickle of blood slide along my collar bone. How can I ever sleep in this contraption?

"Oh, PJ," I whispered, "I miss you so much."

I forced myself to think about the trip here, what I could remember of it. When the truck stopped, I hadn't had much time to look around, but I did recognize Fajada Butte. I was somewhere in Chaco Canyon. Why here in this kiva? Was there something significant about this spot? My head ached from trying to come up with an answer, and my heart rate had increased alarmingly, so I swallowed my rising panic and thought about something else.

I envisioned myself lying on the sofa with PJ in my arms, watching the cats and Pup play together. It was such a simple pleasure, and right now I'd give anything to be home doing just that. The thought of Pup brought a lump to my throat. He'd been with me so long and was so faithful a friend. And now he was dead. I swallowed and the collar punished me again. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I cried for the loss of my brave and loyal companion. He'd tried to protect me and one of these bastards had killed him. Would that be my fate, too?

Earlier, a shaft of daylight had reflected into the kiva from the hole in the ceiling, but the light was fading as night approached. I was exhausted, but I dared not sleep.

Chapter 16

Kim nuzzled the back of my neck while I lingered in that drowsy state between wakefulness and actual sleep. I knew from the amount of light penetrating my closed eyelids that it was time for us to wake up and start our day. I stretched, and she continued her intimate assault on my neck and ear. I could feel her breath tickling my sensitive skin. Her humming sounded so much like the purring of a contented cat. I turned my head. Cleo and I were eyeball-to-eyeball. Our noses butted and she climbed up my chest, making sure I was going to stay awake and play.

I grabbed her with both hands, ignoring her indignant protests. "Come here, you little furry ball. Where's your partner in mayhem this morning?" Before she could utter another plaintive wail, Jackie sprang on top of us, emitting a kitty war cry.

"Don't tell me. Let me guess. You want breakfast and you want it now." They purred. While Jackie gave Cleo several raspy licks behind her ears and her sister returned the favor, I escaped to the bathroom. "Give me five minutes to get dressed and then we'll see about feeding you."

I was amazed I had slept so well. Whatever herb Little Bird had put in my tea last night had knocked me out cold. I was as ready as I could be to face the day and get caught up on what had transpired during the night.

The cats and I slipped into the kitchen. Several volunteer searchers were busy eating, talking, and organizing maps and grids. A pair of police officers filed papers into various folders. I filled the cats' bowls and realized that Pup was not inside with us. He usually came at the sound of the can opener or the rustle of the dry cat food bag. Fond as he was of his own dog chow, he was especially eager to nibble any of the leftover feline cuisine. There was never much in their bowls when they finished, but he liked to lick the sides clean anyway.

*    *    *

Detective Nelson sat at one end of the table. Gina sat to his left. They were talking and flipping through a bundle of newspapers, pointing at pictures. I could read the tabloid headlines from across the room and imagined the reporters were having a field day at my partner's expense. After fixing myself a mug of Earl Grey, I joined them at the table.

"Hi, PJ." Gina folded her paper so I couldn't see any pictures.

"What's up?" I took a sip and braced myself.

Detective Nelson shook his head. "Seems you and your girlfriend have been busy this past year. He held up his paper so I could see the not-too-flattering picture of us at Logan Airport last summer, just after Kim's altercation with the photographer.

Gina pulled his paper away and piled it on top of hers. "Mark, you know as well as I do that this trash is not worth the paper it's printed on."

"Actually, that's pretty tame stuff," I said. "When I was in that cottage in Wales, some of those rags claimed I'd been tossed down a sacred well and was reincarnated as a druid priestess. I forget what the idiots imagined for Kim."

"All I'm saying is the job is hard enough without all this crap." He pushed back from the table and left by way of the back door.

I poured more coffee for Gina and asked for a progress report, pointedly ignoring her partner's comments.

"He's going to Taos this morning. There's been another sighting."

"How many does that make?"

"Counting the totally ludicrous ones," she said, consulting her notes, "one hundred and twenty-two."

We sat silently for a couple of minutes, each staring into our mugs as if we'd find answers floating in the dark liquid. I couldn't speak for Gina, but my thoughts had taken a pessimistic turn. I finished most of my tea, propped my elbows on the table, and rested my chin wearily on clenched fists. The most overwhelming sensation of hopelessness spread through my body. For days I had tried to keep my head or my heart focused on the hunt for Kim. I believed that by keeping one or the other devoted to the cause, I'd manage to align both and, ultimately, Kim would return alive and well. A week had passed and I was losing my grip. All my tenacity, spirit, and optimism slipped away. All my grit and determination evaporated. I was emotionally tapped out and desperate.

"PJ," Gina said, reaching for my hand. "Don't let it get to you. You can't give up yet."

I avoided her grasp and stood up, still holding the mug. "What's the use? Can you tell me? What's the use?" I heaved the mug against the back wall where it smashed, leaving a dent and a small brown stain. The cats scrambled for cover.

"I'm sick of not knowing! Just so goddamned sick of it!" My fists clenched and unclenched as Gina approached me.

The police officers turned to assist her, but Gina motioned them back to their jobs.

"Come on," she said, guiding me by the elbow. "Let's take a walk."

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later, I'd calmed down enough to speak. Gina had matched me stride for stride as I headed away from the house.

"This is one of our most favorite places on the whole ranch," I said.

We gazed along the ridge at the distant mountains. The sun shone brightly, warming our arms and faces. A cool breeze gently lifted wisps of hair from our foreheads. "I'm sorry I lost it back there. I even slept fairly well last night, so I can't use exhaustion as an excuse. Anyway, thanks for putting up with my tirade."

She acknowledged my apology with a faint shrug and a ready smile.

By unspoken agreement, we turned back toward the ranch house.

"You're entitled to a tirade or two. I know it's hard, but try to stay patient. This is a frustrating case. We're working all the angles, and sooner or later, we'll catch a break or they'll slip up."

"But will it be in time?"

Gina's silence did little to comfort me.

"At least you're not sugarcoating any of this for me."

"You strike me as someone who wants the truth, even when it's painful. You also seem used to getting what you want."

"I guess that's true. I'm trying to be less of a bitch about it, though."

She gave a faint chuckle. "A cooperative attitude is always appreciated."

We walked in silence for a while. As the rear of the house came into view, I tried to see the situation from her perspective.

"I know you're trying, and I appreciate how honest you've been with me. I'm not so sure your partner has his heart in the effort."

"Mark may not always show it, but he's a solid investigator. He's not slacking off one bit on this case, although I know he's been a bit abrasive at times."

"You could say that again."

"He's got some personal problems right now, but he won't let it affect his job."

"If you're sure he's doing everything he can, that's all that matters. I'm not looking for a friend. He can keep his attitude once this is over."

She started to reply, but Pup's barking attracted our attention. He pawed and snuffled at something on the ground near the rear of the house. We could see him pick up an object, hobble toward the deck, and drop it.

"Pup!" I called.

He turned with the object in his mouth and hastened toward us. Although his gait was still awkward due to his injury, it didn't slow him down.

"What's he got?" Gina asked.

"Don't get excited. It's probably a dead bird or a piece of old machinery that the former owner buried. He's always finding stuff out by the barn. If it's small enough to carry, he'll bring it all the way to the back deck."

"Holy shit!" Gina's unflappable composure slipped when Pup drew closer.

I crouched down to examine his discovery, pushing him away before he could lick my face. "No, Pup. Stay." He obeyed, but his body shifted restlessly. "Let me see your bone, fella. That's quite a big one." I brushed some of the dirt from it and looked up at Gina.

"It looks human," she said. "Doesn't it?"

My heart was pounding. "That'd be my first impression. Human."

Gina went into the house for an evidence bag, put the bone in it, and drove away. When I was sure she was gone, I went to the spot where Pup had made his find. He loped along beside me with his head held high and his eyes bright.

"Aren't you the proud one," I told him, giving his ears a scratch. His protective collar was gone now and his hip was mending nicely. He shook his head and sniffed the ground in a widening circle before approaching the back deck.

"If you're looking for the bone, it's not there," I called. "Gina took it away."

He ignored my voice and bent low to scrape a portion of the deck surface with one paw.

"Pup? What are you doing?" I hastened to see why he kept worrying that same board. "Hey, guy. You'll get a splinter, if you're not careful."

Sunlight glinted off of something caught between two of the boards. I kneeled down and saw something metal. With a lot of tugging I managed to pull it loose. It was a medallion just like mine. My heart raced. Kim's medallion.

What do I do with it? Should I give it to the police? After Pup and I both messed with it, could they still find anything useful in the way of prints or other evidence? It had been outside in the elements for days, so that was unlikely.

"I'm the one who needs this most."

Pup gave a low woof. I took that as indication of his agreement. The chain was gone. I opened the ring and added the medallion to the chain holding mine, slipping it back around my neck. Instantly, both medallions warmed my chest and my heart soared.

"Surely, that's a good sign. She's alive. It has to mean she's alive."

I gave Pup a tearful hug. "Thank you, Pup. You found two treasures today."

Chapter 17

I went to bed that night the same way I had every night since Kim had been taken. Dressed in her old scrub suit top, now freshly laundered and lacking Kim's familiar scent, I sat on our bed, hugged her pillow to my chest, and recited the day's events as best I could remember them.

The first of my rituals was to rub my medallion, then hers. Once I felt them warm to my touch, I launched into my report.

"Honey, it's me. I hope you're still holding on, still battling."

A strong storm had blown through the night before and I worried about her. "Did you hear it or feel it?" I asked her. "Were you out in it someplace? God, I hope not." The urgent need for tissues interrupted me.

"We had some excitement around here yesterday. Pup found a bone, a human one. Gina sent it to the lab for testing." I shuddered. "It wasn't recently buried. I did, for a brief moment, panic when I saw it, but when I thought it through, I knew it couldn't have had anything to do with your disappearance. It must've been underground several years at least. Gina had the forensics team scour the area for more, but so far, nothing's turned up. We'll get a more detailed report in a day or two."

I reached for the mug of Earl Grey on the bedside table. "Kimmy, you'd have laughed to see Little Bird's face when she heard that Gina and I had handled the bone. Seems it's a Navajo taboo to touch a human one. She said something about the bad spirits, or chindi, getting after us. As if we haven't had enough bad spirits already. 'Course, neither Gina nor I are Navajo, but it still bothered Little Bird."

I drank some more tea and shifted back against our carved oak headboard. "She and I had an interesting discussion about Navajo taboos, the concept of harmony, and how easily it goes out of whack for them. You'd have been fascinated by all the various ceremonies they perform to restore harmony. Hozho, I think she called it.

You've known her longer than I have, so maybe you're familiar with some of the rituals. What do you think? Maybe we could learn something from them. She and Jasper spent last weekend on the reservation visiting her clan folk. Bless them. They're so worried for us." Fresh tears flowed, requiring more tissues. "Sorry. All this sympathy is getting to me."

"Anyway, she came back with a gift. Ghost beads, made from dried juniper berries and seed heads. I'm supposed to sleep with the beads under my pillow to keep nightmares at bay. I suppose it acts on the same principle as a dream catcher, but it'll take more than that to rid me of the nightmares that plague me now. I need all the help I can get, though, so I'll hang on to my ghost beads, Greek worry beads, and my Amazon medallion. I'm wearing yours as well now. I wish you had it with you, but it's a comfort to me. Do you think any of these trinkets will help? I pray a lot for both of us. I send my prayers to every power I can think of, in the present day and in the ancient past, but so far nothing's happened."

I cleared my throat. "If you and I were just Dine—The People—as the Navajo call themselves, we'd have a built-in support group to keep us in balance. Of course, I happen to think that if people would leave us alone for a year or two, we'd have no trouble finding our own balance." I sniffed and gave in to a mild bout of self pity. "Have I told you lately how much I love you? This being apart is the pits. And physically, well, don't get me started. Cripes. How do the monks and nuns go without it all their lives? Let me tell you, after just one night, I was aching for you, honey. I'm sitting here right now, wearing your scrub shirt because it's the closest thing I have to the real you."

I closed my eyes. "How I wish I could have you back with me. I miss your hands on me. And your lips, your tongue..." I stopped and took a deep breath to relieve the tightness that had gripped my chest. My eyes flew open. "Shit. I can't talk about this now."

I don't dare think about how you look all fresh from a shower, how you feel all firm and supple, how your skin tastes, so spicy and sweet. Damn it! I rubbed my face briskly, buried my head in the pillow, and fought to change the subject.

"That creep Nelson was his usually irritating self today. He and Dad went over all the reports of sightings. Nothing was of use to us. Remember how I told you he was when Dad put up the reward? He said that one hundred grand would bring out all the nutcases and make their job harder. Much as I hate to admit it, he seems to have been right. Someone thought they saw something the morning after you were taken. Apparently, a guy was shoving a plate of what appeared to be ham and eggs into the back of a pickup truck. It had a camper shell with dirty windows so the witness couldn't see inside, couldn't tell if it was a person or a dog in there. He described the guy as wearing dark clothing and speaking harshly to whomever or whatever was in the truck. Detective Nelson didn't get much in the way of a description of the vehicle or the guy, so the lead went nowhere. Since then, the tips have been just as weird. Not that the detective would even waste his precious time telling me about them. I might as well be a piece of dog doo-doo for all he cares." I snorted into Kim's pillow.

"Gina's a different story. She's been so open and honest with me. I think you'd really like her. She's married to a professor at the community college in Espaniola. He teaches criminal justice courses. She's a sergeant with the Criminal Investigation Division of the State Police. Nelson's a detective with the Santa Fe Sheriffs Department. They've worked together before on homi... Urn, you know, that sort of thing. From what I gather, whenever there's a serious enough crime in the area, the State Police coordinate efforts in a supervisory capacity. Gina is his boss, and she gets to run him all over the state."

I couldn't resist a chuckle. "Okay, it sounds petty, but you're not here to see the disgust in his eyes when he looks at me sometimes. Maybe his attitude is because a woman from another jurisdiction is telling him what to do, but most of it's because he's a homophobic asshole."

I stifled a yawn.

"That's about it for tonight, sweetheart. I'm scheduled to go to Chaco Canyon for that meeting next week. We looked forward to going there together, didn't we? There's something so spiritual and mystical about that place. I don't want to go without you, and I'll begrudge any time away from the search, but it has to be done. I'm the one with the plans and the check. It's just for one night, anyway, and we'll probably have you back by then." I wiped my eyes.

"I'd better try and get some sleep now. You try, too, okay? I imagine I can expect another restless night of dreams."

I gave her pillow a final squeeze. "I'm sorry I'm focusing so much on my needs. Wherever you are, I'm sure you're having it much rougher than I am. If I dwell too much on that, though, I'll never get through this. I keep telling myself that you're a true Amazon. You and I have friends in ancient times. I think of them often, but I guess they're just too far away to keep on top of things.

Besides, you don't have your medallion and access to its powers, but we have plenty of friends and family in the present day who are working to help bring us together again. So, my dearest, my beloved, my long, tall, body beautiful, keep up your courage. I'm thinking of you."

I turned off the light and drew the sheet over me. "Pup and the girls send their love, and you know you have mine. Goodnight, honey. Be strong."

*   *   *

I inhaled a faint whiff of cedar from the ghost beads under my pillow. Soon, some sage mixed with the woodsy scent. It was burning over a small fire in a windowless hut where I was sleeping on a blanket. Smoke from the fire drifted upward to escape through a hole in the center of the roof. I was dressed in my skimpy Amazon outfit. My body felt drained of energy and my throat was parched. Outside, I could hear drums pounding, softly, persistently, like the beating of my heart. Chants in a foreign but familiar language were punctuated by several violent shakes of a rattle.

What the hell was going on?

A man and a woman padded into the hut. The man was middle-aged and looked like some of the Navajo weavers I'd seen on a recent trip to Taos. The woman was old, like the shaman of the Amazon village in ancient Greece. As an archaeologist, I was aware that ancient cultures seemed more closely akin to each other than those of modern times. The nearer we get to the source, I thought, the more alike we are. The old woman reminded me of Little Bird, but Sue's voice came out of her mouth when she spoke. The man and woman glanced at each other and nodded. "Come, Yazzie," the woman said to me, her voice almost singing the words.

I took her hand and swayed. "Where am I?" When I tried to stand, I felt light-headed. The man put his arm around my waist so I wouldn't fall.

"She needs to drink," he said. "The sweat hut has purified her body, but dried it out."

The woman left and returned with a cup of cool water. I drank it and asked for more.

"The sun is sinking. It is almost dark. We must finish the ceremony." The man hugged me closer, propelling me toward the open doorway.

"Wait. I have no shoes. How far do we have to go?" My mind was fuzzy and I still felt weak. "Who are you? Where am I? What the hell is going on?"

The woman returned with more water and a large piece of bread. It was what we Anglos call fry bread. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I started chewing.

"We must keep walking," the man said. "The sand must be scattered before the sun leaves us this day."

"What sand? Okay, okay, stop pushing me. I'm moving."

We walked outside toward a short ridge. I continued to eat the bread and was happy that it calmed my queasy stomach. Silhouettes of men and women framed the top of the ridge. The chanting, drum-beating, and rattle shaking continued at our backs, growing fainter as we climbed the hill. A man who looked like Jasper took a rolled up blanket from a basket. He passed the blanket to my companions, who unfurled it and shook it in four different directions. The man then spoke in English as the sky behind him swallowed up the sun and painted itself in purples, reds, and mauves. Most of his words mentioned beauty and how it should be all around us in every direction.

When he completed the incantation, he gave me the empty basket. Someone led me back to the hut and encouraged me to lie back on the blanket they had used. It felt gritty against my back. In the dim firelight, I detected red, yellow, white, blue, and black residues. The woman bid me drink some strong herbal tea and sleep again. Through heavy, half-closed eyelids, I saw the man take a feather from a pouch on his belt and touch it to a patch of sandy color on the blanket. He then brushed the feather against my forehead and murmured a few words I didn't understand. He took a small piece of leather and pressed it to another part of the blanket, lifting another color off to transfer to my lips. By this time I was too tired to focus, but I felt his warm hand trace a circle above my breasts, and a cold pressure, like the weight of a stone, push against my belly.

"Sleep, Yazzie. May the Yei of our ancestors and your Amazon sisters send a healer to your heart. Your Hozho is lost and you no longer walk in beauty. May you find your way tonight."

My way? Hozho? Holy shit. I was in the middle of some kind of Dine ceremony. Didn't they know I wasn't Navajo and didn't understand them? He'd mentioned Amazons, and I'm dressed in my Amazon next-to-nothings. Maybe they were mixed up in all of this. I'd sort it all out. As soon as I woke up.

*   *   *

"Kimmy?" I was aware of a woman leaning over me, her hands moving from my chest to my abdomen. With rough fingers she scratched circles and triangles on my bare skin. The touch was familiar. I had felt it in ancient Greece. The shaman was administering to my body and communing with my spirit. It wasn't Kim, but maybe it was the next best thing.

She kissed my cheek. "Child, I felt the agony of your thoughts, your spirit keening for your mate, and I came."

"Thank the goddess," I said through my tears. "What took you so long?"

She laughed, despite the gravity of the situation. "Be silent, now. There is much work to be done. Let me do my work." She touched my forehead with a small leather pouch.

I gripped her hand and was aware that tears were streaming down my face.

"If you must speak, call me Grandmother. I have been in consultation with the Navajo healers of your present life. They have shown me their magic and I will use it to make you whole again. It is all part of a ceremony to restore your balance."

I squinted at her in the soft light. She was the same ancient woman I remembered, but her dark eyes had changed. They had become smoldering black coals, radiating the energy and wisdom of the ages. Whatever she had planned terrified and excited me at the same time, but I was willing to try anything that would help me find Kim and bring her home again.

"My child, you will want to know what is happening, and I will try to tell you as I go along. Dry your tears, now. Amazons do not cry."

"Wait a minute. A while back you said crying was okay. Now you say it's not? I'm in enough trouble here without you contradicting yourself."

"Ah, youth," she said, ignoring my outburst, "they always think they have it so bad. I have seen much worse, believe me. And you can trust my words even though I am a combination of Amazon and Navajo." She opened the beaded pouch on her belt and retrieved several stone pieces. The sound of them rattling together in her hand was mesmerizing, almost musical. "Sit up now."

I did as she ordered. "Grandmother, may I ask a question?"

"You may."

"How can you combine the Navajo and Amazon traditions inside yourself at the same time?"

"There is much that the two use in common for healing. It has been a valuable experience for me. I will take sacred white sage and make it a powerful medicine for your body and your soul. The Navajo shape-shifters have given me a new spirit for a short time so I can help you."

"Are you sure it'll work?"

Her eyes burned with new intensity. "You dare to doubt my abilities and the added power of Holy Girl?"

"I've heard that name before. Little Bird called her a Yei."

"Yes, a holy person with special abilities. You must call me Holy Girl during this part of the ceremony."

I swallowed. "Wow. I could sure use some of those special abilities right now, Holy Girl."

"You have already been involved in a chant to rid you of bad spirits, evil spells from witches, and the pain and suffering that all that can inflict on you. The ceremony is basically a sand painting done by a Hataalii, a medicine man or Singer. A healer talked to you, determined what was wrong, what was out of balance, and what needed to be fixed. Then a sand painting was planned."

I let that sink in. "How come I didn't remember the actual painting part, only the aftermath? And why am I dressed in my Amazon leathers now?"

"You were sent to a sweat hut first to remove the impurities in your system and cleanse your body for your part in the procedure. If you cannot remember all of that, it must be because you fainted from the heat and the dehydration. The holy people said it sometimes happens. You aren't a Dine after all. But, your Amazon spirit will help you now in this portion. Stay strong. You want to find your soul mate, do you not?"

"I'll go through dreams, time warps, fire, famine, and Hell itself if it means finding Kim. Do you know where she is? Can you help me find her, Holy Girl?"

"I have received messages from many sources. All of them tumble and turn in my mind. I have to use the sacred stones in order to focus." She held up four stones; one was white and smooth as silk, one was an abalone shell, one was turquoise, and the last one was jet that appeared to have waves etched in its surface. After a few moments of concentration, she spoke again. "The voices I hear and trust tell me she is alive, though she grows weaker every day."

Hope filled my heart. I wiped tears from my eyes. "Oh, thank God. But weaker, you say."

"Yes. All your Amazon sisters are trying to reach out to you both with help, but the distance across time is so great."

"I know. And Kim wasn't wearing her medallion, either. I found it between some boards on our back deck."

"Keep it with you, then, child for more power and strength. Let me light the sage and have you breathe it in. Its powers will increase your insight." As she talked, she produced a shell from another pouch and sprinkled in some light-colored powder. I could smell the sage even before it began to smoke. She had me stand up so she could circle me, waving the sage smoke, forcing it to envelop every part of my body.

"Breathe deeply."

I filled my lungs, willing it to change my lethargy and hopelessness to resolve and purpose. I prayed that all of us looking for Kim would have renewed vigor to push on despite the setbacks until we had located her. My eyes burned, but my mind had never felt so clear and focused.

"The dawn is almost upon us. The event you witnessed before I arrived was the Night Chant. It was a prayer for you and your beloved for salvation from the evils that surround you."

"I appreciate that, believe me, but what else can you tell me about Kim? Have any of your voices told you where to look for her?"

Holy Girl closed her eyes and fingered the sacred stones. I looked beyond her and groaned. Sunlight filtered through the open door of what I now realized was a Navajo hogan. The hogan's doorway always faces the east.

"Let me think," the shaman said. "One image comes in strongest. I do not see or hear much else, and I know there is little time. You must go to her as soon as you recognize the place. She is in pain, so much pain."

My heart pounded and my ears buzzed. "Oh, no. Where are you, Kim?"

"You must search for one life. Yes, definitely. You will know it. One life."

"She is my life, Holy Girl. My one-and-only life. Is that what you mean?"

"I'm sorry. It is fading now. I must leave you."

"Wait, please. Don't go yet!"

Dawn broke then, along with my heart.

"Aa shi bi'bohlii..."

Her voice was too faint and her image morphed into a shimmering light, replaced with a brilliant shaft of sunshine.

I awoke in our bed at the ranch, still dressed in my Amazon leathers. Sunshine and warmth held the faint echo of her words.

"It is up to you, child. It is all up to you."

Chapter 18

I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance as a late evening storm approached. Within seconds, brilliant flashes of lightning illuminated the kiva walls. Rain poured in through the roof entrance, forming a muddy puddle on the floor. As the storm passed overhead, the thunder's intensity startled me, and my neck jerked against the collar's vicious teeth.

I craved sleep, but dared not allow myself the relief of a few hours rest. The collar was an inhuman form of punishment and only the cruelest of captors would resort to its use. The chains alone kept me imprisoned. Why add more? What had I done to the young man to deserve such barbaric treatment?

In the wake of the storm, silence fell around me like a heavy blanket, making sleep even more desirable. Water soaked into the sandy floor at a phenomenal rate, proving that this was indeed a thirsty land. The idea of slaking my own thirst did me no good right now. I needed to focus on something else.

Thinking of you, PJ, is not only something I want to do, but something I must do to preserve my sanity. I have no idea why I'm here and why I'm being treated this way. Yes, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, but there's more to this than a burglary gone wrong. Either it's personal, or some psycho's game. Why am I here? Why didn't they shoot me at the house or somewhere along the way to this place?

I'm losing track of time. How many days and nights were we on the road? I don't really know. How many nights have I been held here? How many days and nights in my own filth? I don't know how much longer I can hold out. It feels like I've been away from you forever.

I heard mice again scurrying around, searching for any crumbs the young man may have dropped when he stopped by to feed me dry bread and, more recently, moldy cheese. I remembered the little mouse that PJ befriended when she was in the Welsh cottage. He'd been an innocent little critter who'd paid with his life for trusting a human. These mice weren't harmless, though. They could be deadly. I'd read about Hanta Virus, an airborne disease spread by mouse droppings. Was dwelling on such things also part of my torture? Although my captor gave me water, which I drank greedily, it wasn't enough. My body was dehydrating badly. I'm not going to be able to persuade him to let me go and I'll soon be too weak to try to escape.

*   *   *

Another day dawned just like the one before and the one before that. The shaft of sunlight beamed through the roof entrance at a steep angle. The air was still. There were no sounds except for the ubiquitous mice. How do they survive? How do they find enough to eat? I dropped a few crumbs from my daily meals, but what else is there for them to live on?

I felt an affinity for the scurrying little creatures and at times, when all hope escaped me, I wished they would end it for me with their virus. Such moments were happening with increasing frequency.

My neck felt like raw hamburger. I had fallen asleep a couple of times, or more likely lapsed into unconsciousness. When I came to, my flesh felt like it was on fire. The pain was constant and intense. I could smell the coppery scent of my own blood and the odor of infection. Maybe the infection, if severe enough, would become my salvation.

I'm trying to keep hope alive, honey. I know you're doing all you can to find me. But how will you even know where to look? This is huge, barren country. I don't know if I can find a way out of this evil device. I'm losing my strength with each day that passes.

A sob escaped my throat.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I looked forward to his visits, if only for the bread, cheese, and water. Mainly the water.

He climbed easily down the ladder, through what I had come to think of as the skylight. His clothes were different. Instead of the usual jeans and black sweatshirt, he wore loose fitting coveralls and a floppy brimmed hat over a grotesque Halloween mask.

Silently, he loosened my collar and released me from its cruel grip. He fed me, and gave me water. But instead of replacing the collar and leaving, he bound my hands in front, and pushed me down onto a thin woolen blanket. The urge to sink into deep sleep was so powerful, but I had to know what he'd planned for me. I watched him open the folding chair, sit down and stare at me. I raised my chin, matching his confrontational attitude. "Like what you see?"

"Since you asked, I think you look like hell."

That voice. It was the first time he'd spoken more than a word or two directly to me, and I stiffened in recognition.

Slowly and deliberately, he shed the coveralls, revealing a trim woman's body dressed in denim jeans and tight-fitting shirt.

She pulled the mask off and dropped it in the dirt.

"You!" I snapped.

"Uh-huh. You didn't think you'd seen the last of me, did you? You and that pricey piece of trash you live with."

"Terry, if you think Frederick's going to pay a ransom for me, you're dead wrong."

"Oh, Kim," my former lover continued, "you never learn, do you? Always jumping to conclusions."

"I know you. I know how you think."

"You think you do." She moved in closer, her face barely a hand's breadth from mine. "But you're so wrong." She sniffed and walked to the opposite side of the kiva. "I don't want their money." Her cackling laugh raised the hairs on the back of neck. "I have other plans. And now that I've taken most of the fight out of you, I'm inviting your little sex toy to come rescue you. You'll like that, won't you?"

My mind reeled. This woman was my ex-partner, who'd nearly raped PJ and created such trouble for us in Wales, but she'd grown far worse. What had I done to provoke the pure venom in her tone and in her eyes?

"You leave PJ out of this." I struggled to free my wrists. "Whatever you have against me, you can settle with me."

"Oh I have lots to settle with both of you." She stepped over to the pilaster and examined the spiked collar. "When your beloved rushes in to save you, she'll take your place in this nifty device. Then, my arrogant friend, you can watch her die slowly and painfully. The last thing you'll hear before I put a bullet in your brain will be your lover's agonizing cries." She sat back down on the chair. "Such a fitting end to an ill-fated romance, don't you think?"

"You're absolutely mad."

"And you're absolutely stinking." She pinched her nose. "You really should take better care of your personal hygiene."

I struggled to get my legs underneath me, but dizziness kept me crouched on all fours. "I'll kill you."

Terry raised her arms as if protecting her face. "Oh goodness, I'm so scared."

She picked up her pack and slid the zipper back. "Seriously, though, I know you'd like to. And I admire your spirit. As I recall, your PJ has plenty of spirit, too. I never quite got to enjoy her the way I planned when we were together in Wales. I'm sure we can remedy that situation."

She pulled a sealed jar out of her pack. It had ancient markings around the neck. "Here's something else to think about. Do you know what this is?"

"Go ahead, tell me. I know you will anyway."

"Corpse powder. Are you familiar with it?"

A sharp pain shot through my gut and I swallowed hard. "I've heard of it."

"Good. Then you know what will happen when I release it."

"How are you going to do that without contaminating yourself?"

"Oh, Kim, you know me... I have a plan. I always have a plan. That's why I'm much too clever for you and your little bitch." Terry's once beautiful face twisted into an ugly grimace. "But I must be off now. I have to hunt for a new helper. The old one got a bit too critical of my master plan. I should have left him in that bar in Waco last winter."

She looked at me and winked. "Poor Jake. We were both out of our element. I knew it wasn't a gay bar, so I wasn't surprised when he made a pass at me. And I could've turned him down."

She closed her pack with a laugh and sat back against her seat, rubbing her forehead. "But you know me. I was horny as hell and without a good lesbian for comfort. Jake was my only option. Good thing he made a better thief than he did a lover, or he'd never have lasted as long as he did."

With a smile she stared at me. "You were good in bed, I'll say that for you. That was before you dumped me for what's her name."

"You dumped me, Terry," I said. "And we were history long before PJ came into my life."

She checked her watch. "Fine. Have it your way. I just remembered that I have a lunch date in Farmington with a couple of prominent archaeologists who happen to be in the Four Corners area. So, I'll have to wait until after that to find someone to take Jake's place. It seems all of our colleagues are concerned that you're missing. And of course, I agree with them. I tell them your disappearance is such a tragedy, a great loss to the anthropology and archaeology community."

Then she laughed again with so much force she nearly fell off her seat.

Chapter 19

After a light supper, I went to the office. I turned on the desk light and sat in Kim's chair, sliding my fingers over the smooth oak surface, skimming the edges of her letter opener, blotter, note pad, and pencil cup. My gaze lingered on the photograph of me that she had put next to her monitor. How happy I'd been on that fishing trip to Vermont, sporting a wide floppy hat and waders that were much too big for me. What a carefree time it was for both of us. Not a worry in the world.

I looked away, fighting the oppressive weight of despair that had settled over me once again. As time passed with no further word about Kim, I was losing the shaman's dream-induced optimism. What if I never see her again? Can I live a normal life without her? My mind slowed and perversely forced me to dwell on that painful proposition. What will I do without Kim?

I stood and walked to my desk to look at her photo. My camera had captured her in mid-cast, the fly rod arcing gracefully, its line snaking into a lazy letter S.

A grin of pure joy graced her lips. Even the crazy backward baseball cap seemed apropos. My fingertips traced the edges of the frame. I revisited the dazzling sunshine on the rocks and the rushing water, and remembered the chill of it despite our protective clothing. The trip had been so exhilarating, so liberating. The air had been so crisp and clear, the trout fresh and flavorful when grilled over an open fire. The warmth of Kim's embrace had felt so comforting when we snuggled in the tent at night, and the loving... Oh, my God, the loving had gone on and on.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Just find the map and leave the memories alone, I told myself. They're too painful.

The lower file drawer was locked. As long as I had known Kim, she'd never kept anything in her desk hidden from me. None of the drawers had ever been locked, and I knew all her computer passwords. Curiosity drove me to get the master key and take a look.

Under a pile of papers that included the map with directions to Chaco Canyon, I found a narrow, wooden rectangular box, about two feet long. A white business envelope rested beneath it. I should have left both items alone and relocked the drawer, but my initials were on the envelope, in Kim's handwriting.

I hesitated a few more seconds, before I ripped the envelope open. A note on plain white paper read:

My Little Kokopelli,

You may never learn to play as well as Robert Mirabel, but I wanted you to have the opportunity to try. I remembered how much you loved the music we heard that day at the Taos Pueblo, so I had this flute made for you. Some private lessons go with it, just to get you started. Happy Birthday.

Love you, always and forever, Kim.

The box held a hand carved, Native American love flute made of red cedar. To personalize it, the artist had fashioned a wolfs head on the mouthpiece end and the letters P and J on the other. Six smooth holes were evenly spaced along the top. I held it reverently in my hands, letting my fingers caress the carved areas and glide over the smooth surface as I remembered the day we toured the Taos Pueblo and listened to flute music in Mirabel Nature Gifts. Kim had noticed my enchantment with the tunes and with the artisans who made the instruments. It was so like her to select the perfect gift. She'd even teased me with the Kokopelli reference: the trickster flute-player, well-known in Native American culture. Of course, he was also a fertility god, but I don't think she had that part of him in mind with this sweet, thoughtful present. I took another deep breath and concentrated on holding my emotions in check. I wouldn't attempt to play the instrument. Those first sounds must wait until Kim can hear them, too.

Once the flute was back in its case and inside the drawer, I propped my elbows on the desk and held my head in my hands, trying to keep from falling apart. It was a losing battle.

The telephone rang. I heard Dad, Sue, and several of the police personnel talking, even Pup's playful bark as he scuffled with Jackie and Cleo in the other room. In the midst of all this activity, I'd never felt more alone, and certainly never more lonely than I did at this moment. My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.

"Please come back to me." I choked on the words and my eyes swan with tears. "I found the flute. I love it, but I love you so much more."

A soft knock sounded at the door and Sue entered before I could wipe my eyes.

"PJ? What's wrong?" She held the cordless phone, her hand over the mouthpiece.

"Is it for me?" My voice was husky.

"It's Lawrence again. Listen, if this is a bad time—"

"No, I'll take it." She handed me the phone and searched for a box of tissues.

"Hi, PJ, I tried your cell phone, but I never heard it ring."

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. I guess it needs recharging."

"I just wanted to let you know that the check's in the mail. FedEx that is, for overnight delivery. You should get it tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"Thank you."

"Any time. I'm always here, you know, ready and able to assist you." I heard a muffled voice in the background asking a question. "Heather was wondering if you had any news of Dr. Blair. Is there anything she can do to help?"

You can stop asking that question. I know you mean well, but it makes my heart bleed. I wanted to scream at him, but I didn't.

"Nothing more to report, I'm afraid. Please thank her for me. Thank everyone for... everything."

"And I'm here for you."

"I'm sorry, Lawrence, I have to go now."

"Sure. You take care of yourself, and if you do need—"

"Thank you. Good night." I ended the connection and handed the phone back to Sue.

She gave me a tissue. "Do you want to talk?"

"I found my birthday present." I unlocked the desk again and showed her the flute and the note.

"Oh, honey." Her eyes were moist. She opened her arms and gathered me in.

I sobbed for a long time before managing to say, "All I do is cry these days. It hurts so much. I don't know how much longer I can take this not knowing."

Sue rubbed my back and ruffled my hair. "There's still some daylight left. Let's get out of here and fill our lungs with some fresh air."

"Thanks for being here," I said with a final sniff. "I'm so lucky to have a mom, therapist, and friend all rolled into one."

*   *   *

After Terry left, I felt numb, angry, and frightened. My reservoir of hope had vanished like water down a drain. I stared vacantly at the ceiling entrance and the ladder left so invitingly in place. Terry had tied my legs and hands and left me lying on the blanket where I could stare at the ancient jar in front of me.

Corpse powder.

Where could she have found it? She had to have stolen it from an Indian site.

I know you've heard of it, PJ. I never really believed in the evil it could cause when unleashed, but now that I'm confronted with so much pure human wickedness, I'm terrified by the thought of spiritual demons as well. Good sense tells me it's very arrogant to deny things we don't understand just because we can't see them or touch them.

Some southwestern tribes believe people have two souls, one good, and one evil. That's understandable when you consider that most everything has an opposite. Black and white. Yin and yang. And modern psychologists tell us that no matter how good we appear, all human beings have a malevolent streak. It's just that some of us can keep it in check, while others can't. Ancient people believed that when a person died, the good soul left the body and proceeded to the afterlife. The bad soul remained in the body and was harvested by witches who stole the corpses and reduced the flesh and bones to a fine powder. Anyone contaminated by corpse powder was driven crazy. If you were unfortunate enough to have ingested any of it, the evil started eating you alive from the inside out. In my present state of mind, I wasn't strong enough to deny it.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't think I was hydrated enough to cry. The tears felt hot and tasted much too salty.

I continued to stare at the jar, willing myself to believe the beautifully crafted vessel contained nothing more lethal than sand. Ash, perhaps ash. After all, it wasn't that unusual to find a jar with the remains of Uncle Joe or Aunt Sylvia on the mantel. Should we think that those jars of what amounted to corpse powder contain evil? Because everything doesn't burn into powder and pieces of bone are left when the ash is cooled, some modern crematoria reduce the ash into powder with crushing equipment. Are we so very different from the ancient ones then?

Whatever happens, I don't want you coming here, under any circumstances.

I've never been one to get on my knees and pray, but I'm praying to the god of Christianity, to all the gods of the ancient world, and to the Amazon gods. I'm praying to any god or goddess who will listen. I'm even praying to the goddamn mice to infect me with their virus, so that I can go quickly and cheat Terry of the pleasure of putting a bullet in me.

Do not come after me. If you do, you'll be at Terry's mercy and there won't be a thing you can do about it. It's too late for me. You, though, still have a chance, but only if you forget all about me and get the hell out of New Mexico. Get as far away from here as you can. If I know you'll do that and be safe, I can slip away.

It won't be too bad. The pain comes and goes and I think the wounds to my neck are infected. I know I'm suffering from fever, dehydration, and sleep depravation, and it will be a blessed relief to give up and let go. But before I can, I need to know you'll be okay.

You've been the light of my life. Until I met you, I had no idea what true happiness was. I love you and will always love you. Think of me whenever you feel the touch of the breeze on your cheek or hear the rustle of the bedcovers at night because it will be me watching over you.

Good-bye, my love. Until we meet again.

I dropped my head and felt the black void engulf me.

Chapter 20

Sweat dropped from my chin and tiny droplets slid down my forehead, stinging my eyes. Sue and I had run along the valley floor in back of the ranch and then climbed the ridge to the wooded area near the wildlife preserve. I figured her added years and the higher elevation might be too much for her, but her stamina was amazing. She was right behind me for the whole run.

Once we had topped the ridge, we slowed to a walk to cool down, mopping our faces and necks with the sleeves and the hems of our shirts.

"Oh, that felt so good. We should sleep well tonight." Sue propped her hand against a tree to stretch her hamstrings and quads.

I imitated her movements, taking long, slow breaths. "That'd be refreshing. Thanks for the workout. With all this stuff happening, I haven't had time to do much running." I squirted a stream of water into my mouth and swallowed.

"Let's walk back now, okay? I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Sure." I fell into step beside her, offering her my water bottle after she'd drained hers.

After a long drink, she handed it back. "I know you aren't giving up on finding Kim."

"Of course not. Why would you—"

She put her hand on my arm, effectively stopping my protest. "It's just that I see a lot of despair in you lately, and I want to discuss it."

"Discuss it as a therapist, or as a family member?"

She pulled me into a gentle hug. "If you'd like, I'll search for a competent professional for you here in New Mexico. I know you've been seeing my associate, but Scott is in Boston and you may need to talk with someone closer. In the meantime, I'll offer advice absolutely free, but only as your stepmother."

I gave her waist a final squeeze as we broke apart and continued our walk. "I appreciate that. We all love you dearly, and I'll welcome your thoughts as my stepmom. I may not always agree with you, but I'll listen."

"Fair enough. What I want to talk about are the feelings you have now, and will have, as long as Kim is missing."

I exhaled. "Oh."

"You need to acknowledge them. Allow yourself to feel them."

"I'm doing that, aren't I?"

"I believe you're trying to suppress the negative ones because you think you're betraying her by having them."

My foot slid on some loose gravel and I stumbled. Sue stuck her arm out, and I grabbed onto it long enough to steady myself.

"Thanks. And just how should I be handling these feelings? It's the toughest thing I've ever experienced."

"It's different for everyone. I guess I'm just trying to let you know that it's okay to be confident and optimistic one day and full of despair the next. You're only human. You need to have a good outlet for your emotions, or it'll eat you up inside."

"I was doing my yoga, and Kim and I ran or hiked with Pup nearly every day before this happened." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I just can't concentrate on anything now."

"Perfectly understandable," Sue said. "There's still time, you know. A lot of good people are working on this case."

I wiped my forehead and pushed my damp bangs back. "I know, but I feel like I'm letting Kim down if I'm not constantly looking or working on it myself. I realize now how she felt when I was kidnapped."

"PJ, the human body is a remarkable organism. Given enough time, it can adjust to almost any tragedy."

"Is that how you think it will end? In tragedy?"

"Honestly, I don't know, and I won't lie. I do know you'll cling to hope for as long as possible. As long as there's a ghost of a chance, you'll believe it will end well."

We walked the rest of the way back to the ranch in silence. I pondered her comments. When we entered the kitchen through the back door, we separated to go change for dinner. Little Bird gave us quick concerned glances, but kept silent.

I closed the door to my room and flopped down on the bed, briefly waking Jackie and Cleo who had been curled up together on my pillow. I stroked them gently until they readjusted themselves and closed their eyes again.

"She's not dead," I whispered.

I don't care how bad it looks. I'd know if she were dead. She's not, damn it. She's out there somewhere. Alive. And I have to find her. Soon.

Chapter 21

"We've been through all of this before. I need to do it and I'm going." Dad, Sue, Little Bird, and Jasper were assembled around our kitchen table, their faces various studies of worry and concern, trying a last ditch effort to dissuade me from driving to Chaco Canyon in the morning.

"It's a three hour drive over some very rough country," Dad said.

"And the canyon's in a remote location. Ancient chindi could still be lingering there," Little Bird added in support of Dad's comments.

"I understand your concerns, even about the dead Indian spirits. You think I could get hurt out there by myself. I do have a cell phone with GPS." Of course, cell phone connections aren't foolproof. I didn't dare mention that. Dead zones crop up all too often, but surely one of these modern marvels of electronics could keep me in touch with somebody, somehow, during the trip.

"Pup would've been the perfect choice to accompany me, but he's still too sore to be jostled around on the journey. I'd never put him through that."

Sue frowned. "But you don't mind putting yourself through it. I'll go with you. Frederick can get along without me." She gave his hand a pat. "Probably never miss me."

"Are you kidding?" he said, taking her hand in his, "I'd never let you out of my sight."

"All of you have work to do here," I said, "The search for Kim has to go on and I need you here working with the police in my absence. The Chaco trip is a business commitment Kim and I made last winter. She'd want me to honor that."

My cell phone warbled and I looked at the caller's number. "It's Detective Esperanza. I'd better take it."

I walked into the living room where it was quiet.

"How's it going, PJ?"

"I should be asking you that question. Any more sightings or leads?"

"Afraid not."

"Things have been calm around here, too, except for a rousing discussion about my trip tomorrow. The family doesn't think I should go alone, or go at all, for that matter."

"Just for the record, Mark and I don't want you to go alone, either, but I think I have a solution."

"If it involves either of you taking time away from your job, then I don't like the solution, especially if you plan to stick me with your partner for the three hour drive."

"No, no. Not my plan at all. Do you mind a family member of mine going with you, though?"

"Tell me more."

"My husband Mike's niece, Karen, is a seasonal ranger at Chaco, but she's been in Albuquerque for the past few days, on leave for a friend's wedding. She got called back to the park early because of the meeting you're supposed to attend."

"Oh, that's a shame. I'm sorry she couldn't have a full vacation, but I guess the arrival of a couple dozen archaeologists might tax the staff just a bit."

"And Karen said they planned to have the media on hand for photos. Rumor has it some rich woman with connections to a billionaire named Curtis might give the park a donation for restorations."

"Gosh, who could that be?"

"Dunno."

"And I wonder how the media found out about it?"

"Word does get around."

"Look, it's fine with me if she wants to be my sidekick. Did she fly to Albuquerque? Should I pick her up someplace?"

"She's already up here with Mike and me. I'll bring her out early tomorrow. She drove her car to the wedding, but it broke down two days ago. Some sort of clutch problem. So far, the repair estimates are more than she has in the bank."

"I'll be happy to get her back to Chaco. Maybe I can help with the car situation, too. I know a dealer down there with an excellent service center."

"We'll work something out. Mike's calling around. Karen will be relieved to get to her job on time."

"And I'll be able to get to the meeting without my family all having heart attacks over it."

"Don't forget the media. They'll be delighted to have their photo op."

I groaned. "Thanks for reminding me. I'll see you both tomorrow morning then. I plan to get on the road by eight. Will that be okay?"

"No problem. We'll be there. Thanks, PJ. We really appreciate it."

"Glad to help out, and really, I should be thanking you."

I disconnected and took a deep breath.

Now to assure my family that I would be safe and secure in the company of a national park ranger.

"PJ Curtis, meet Karen Forbes," Gina said. We shared a smile and a handshake and I helped stow her gear in the Jeep. Karen looked to be in her mid-twenties, with an athletic build and short, curly hair. She wore jeans and a polo shirt with a small, park service arrowhead logo stitched on it.

"I'm sorry to hear about your car," I said. "I can give you the name of a good dealer with some top notch mechanics."

"They'd have to work awfully cheap. My bank account can't handle anything too heavy right now. I don't get a paycheck until the end of the month."

"We can discuss it more once we're on the road." I took a last look around to see if we'd left anything on the ground. "I think we're good to go."

I'd given everyone hugs earlier and assured them that the gas tank was full. I also had maps, money, keys, drinks, energy bars, sunglasses, overnight bag, compass, sturdy boots, cell phone containing everybody's number, a back up list of all their numbers, and even Jasper's Swiss Army knife. He'd pressed it into my hand as I prepared to leave, saying, "Just in case."

I gave him -another hug. "Take care of everybody for me, okay?"

"I surely will, Miss PJ."

I handed Gina a business card from my friend at Albuquerque Motors. "Have your husband call him tomorrow, and I'm sure it'll work out okay."

The gang assembled on the back deck to send us off.

"I'll keep in touch," I called from the driver's seat. "Let me know if there are any new developments."

I drove for the first hour and then had Karen relieve me.

She adjusted the mirrors and gripped the wheel, grinning. "I've always wanted to drive a Jeep that wasn't an old abused park service vehicle."

"Happy to oblige. What kind of car do you have?" I asked.

"An old one."

We both laughed.

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

She huffed out a sigh. "It's a ninety-five Toyota Corolla that I had in high school. It got me through two years of community college and several summers of park duty without a bit of trouble. About a month ago, the clutch started sticking and got progressively worse. When I was at my friend's wedding, it got so bad I couldn't shift it out of first gear. They want eight hundred dollars to fix me up with a new clutch, but that's more than I can afford."

"Gina said your uncle's trying to find a better estimate for you."

She nodded. "Uncle Mike and Aunt Gina have been super, but I hate to put them to all this trouble."

"You're helping me out of a jam right now by keeping me company on this trip."

We hit a rough patch on Route 550 where several potholes came in rapid succession, and Karen downshifted for more traction. "I'm happy to be in the right place at the right time, then. And I'm enjoying this Jeep."

"Maybe you need to ditch your Toyota and get yourself a Wrangler, for your birthday or something. It'd be good for your park assignments, too."

"Maybe sometime in the future, Dr. Curtis. My birthday isn't until December. Right now, I'm focused on my professional goals."

"Call me PJ, okay?"

"Okay."

"A December birthday? Near Christmas?"

"A week before. I get a lot of dual presents."

"That's not fair," I said. "My birthday's on a holiday too, but people don't exchange gifts on it."

She cocked her head in thought. "Can't be Valentine's Day. I give up. What's the date?"

"June fourteenth."

"Flag Day. That's cool."

"I used to think so. When I was really young, I thought all the flags were flying because it was my birthday. I was a tad self-absorbed back then."

"Most little children are. They think everything in the world is all about them."

We drove on in silence for several miles, and I tried to think of something to talk with Karen about instead of dwelling on Kim's absence.

"Will you stay on at the park full time after the summer?"

"No, I hope to be out of the park service by the end of this summer, if I can. It's great work, but my real ambition is to join the New Mexico State Police and be an investigative officer, like my aunt."

"Oh, I see. And what does Gina think about your plans?"

Karen shrugged. "She's known for a long time. I think she's okay with it, but she's never encouraged me, either. She knows my mom's against it."

"Too dangerous for her taste?"

"Yep. She and my dad wanted me to be a teacher or nurse. Something with steady pay and less excitement. I've already passed the physical and had the interviews with the State Police. I'm just waiting for the next training academy session to be announced. I'm high enough on the list to make it in. In the meantime, I've enrolled in a program to finish college with a degree in criminal justice. Classes can coincide with police work for the first two years of employment. That starts in the fall."

"Sounds like you'll be busy."

"I hope to be, if they'd just get the academy going."

Her animated expression left no doubt of her interest. Kim had that same lively expression when I first met her. I guess I did, too. Now, I wasn't so sure.

"I want to be just like my aunt. She's got a husband, kids, and a career that she loves."

"Sounds like she's the perfect role model."

"So, how about you, PJ. How did you come to be an archaeologist?"

"That's a long story, and I'm about ready to be out of this Jeep for a while.- Let's find a place to stop and I'll tell you the condensed version."

"Okay. There's a decent cafe in Cuba, and we can fill up on gas across the street from it. Care for a cup of coffee or tea?"

"Tea. Sure. Maybe they'll even have Earl Grey."

We found an empty booth in the Cuba Cafe. Karen had coffee and I ordered green tea with ginseng and honey.

"Anything else?" the waiter asked. "Breakfast burritos are available until eleven."

We were only an hour or so away from Chaco Canyon, so we declined anything more than our beverages.

"Now, how did you become an archaeologist?" Karen stirred some sugar into her coffee and took a sip.

"I had two role models for my career. The first person was a professor at Tufts when I was an undergrad. Ms. Martin taught history, but had an interest in digging sites during the summer. I went on a few of her working vacations as part of a volunteer crew and just fell in love with the whole process."

Karen asked for more cream and leaned forward to pluck a couple of sugar packs from the dispenser between us. "Who was your second role model?"

"That turned out to be my colleague and business partner, Dr. Kim Blair."

Karen's cup was half way to her mouth, but she put it down hastily. "The woman who's missing?"

"Yes. Didn't Gina tell you?"

"No. She doesn't give out any details during an investigation. I knew about the case from a few articles in the newspaper. When Aunt Gina told me your name, I thought it rang a bell. I'm sorry to bring it up like that."

"It's okay. You didn't know. And, truthfully, it's hard to think of anything else these days. You've done a good job of taking my mind off of her disappearance up until now."

"Was Dr. Blair your teacher, too?"

"Not as part of my course work, but she did teach me quite a bit."

I felt my cheeks flush. She taught me what it's like to love a woman with all my heart.

"She had a grant from my father's foundation to find a lost tribe of Amazons somewhere in the southwest. She'd traced the movements of a small band of these women from South America northward to Arizona and the Superstition Mountains. We spent about three months on the project with a group of University of Arizona grad students."

I swallowed the last of my tea. "That was several years ago. Kim and I decided to work together on some other projects. I wasn't the most focused or organized scientist at the beginning, but I knew Kim had a wealth of experience and ability. She also had enough patience to let me improve my skills."

Karen looked down at her watch, a slight smile playing across her face. "Guess we'd better hit the restroom and get back on the road."

I stood up and motioned to our waiter. "You go on ahead," I told Karen. "I'll get this and be right with you."

"Hey, I have enough funds for coffee, PJ."

We stared at each other for a few seconds while I wondered if I'd insult her if I insisted on paying. I looked down at the bill. "Okay, you can give me two fifty when we get back in the Jeep."

*   *   *

From miles away, Fajada Butte rose above the surface of the canyon. It gave me a point at which to aim the Jeep, an anchor to keep my mind focused. By the time I spotted the brown wooden sign with white letters spelling out Chaco Canyon National Monument and saw the flag flying over the headquarters, my butt was sore from bouncing over the rough terrain.

I surveyed the complex. In addition to the Visitor Center, there was a theater, museum, gift shop, and bookstore. I let Karen out near the staffs quarters. She pulled her gear from the back, pressed three dollars into my hand to reimburse me for her coffee, and thanked me again for the ride.

"I've just enough time for a shower before I climb into my uniform and report to the front desk. Hope I see you again during your conference."

"Me too. It's been great traveling with you. Good luck with your career goals."

I checked in and was shown to the women's bunkroom.

After cleaning up and changing into fresh clothes, I consulted the list of activities, said hello to a few of the women who were putting their belongings away, and made a call to the ranch to tell them we'd arrived. I also phoned my friend Mr. Henry at Albuquerque Motors.

"No matter what the repair costs, just charge something under five hundred. I'll make up the difference, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Ms. Curtis. We'll take care of everything when Mr. Esperanza calls."

One problem solved, I hope. Now, if we could just locate Kim and bring her back safe and sound. I found my friends and joined them for lunch. Several months had passed since the last Society of American Archaeologists meeting, but most of my colleagues had heard about Kim's disappearance and wanted the latest news.

After lunch, we went into the theater to view a series of videos highlighting future restoration plans for the park and showing what repairs had been completed. We settled further into our seats and let the aerial photos and the narrator's Madison Avenue voice command our attention. Spectacular shots of Pueblo Bonito, Chetro Ketl, Casa Rinconada, Fajada Butte, and Pueblo del Arroyo, shown in all seasons and at all hours, were accompanied by powerful descriptions of life in the early days of the canyon.

"During the time between 850 and 1250 BCE, the Anasazi, or Ancestral Puebloan People, as they are now called, made Chaco Canyon a major center for trade, ceremonies, and food distribution. Utilizing wood and native sandstone, they built multi-storied dwellings and dug rounded pits called kivas for important ceremonial events."

Accumulated fatigue and the long drive caused my focus to wander. I was starting to nod off when I heard the narrator reciting a list of towns and sites within the Chaco Canyon complex. The mention of Una Vida brought me to full attention. An aerial view flashed across the screen, showing clusters of rooms and kivas, many in ruin, within view of Fajada Butte.

"Doesn't una vida mean one life in Spanish?" I asked the person beside me.

"Yeah, I think so."

My mind took off on a tangent of its own. One Life was what Holy Girl had told me to seek. The dream or vision had been very precise. Could it have meant Una Vida here in Chaco Canyon? "Mostly unexcavated," the narrator on the video had said, describing it. There were "over a hundred and twenty-five rooms and five kivas." I wondered how long it would take to check them all thoroughly.

Once the videos ended, Mr. Lydell, the park assistant superintendent spoke. We received booklets and a list of suggested projects for volunteers that encompassed the next five years. Preservation targets were mentioned, but Una Vida wasn't one of them. We were told that there was an urgent need for skilled stone and adobe brick masons. Some of my volunteers had listed construction courses from the Northern New Mexico Community College in Espaniola. I made a note to myself to assign them to this important project.

We learned that future digging would be curtailed at Chaco in favor of less intrusive means of observation and discovery. Earth penetrating radar, magnetometers, computer projections, and other electronic imaging devices would make peering under layers of earth easier and less invasive for all observers of the archaeological mysteries that puzzle us about our past. Our trowels and shovels were destined for obsolescence, and it saddened me to think that Kim and I could become dinosaurs in our field. We'd advanced full circle since the days of Richard Wetherill and Earl Morris, who thought nothing of hauling railroad carloads of artifacts out of the canyons to ship back east to a souvenir-hungry public. Current efforts would focus on keeping Chaco, and all other such sites, as close to their original states as possible while shoring up the crumbling ruins.

Assistant Superintendent Lydell announced a recent discovery. After analysis, residues of chocolate had been detected in several tumblers found in Pueblo Bonito. It was the first evidence of cacao documented in the area and was over 1200 miles from its original growing site in Mexico. Found in caches, not as grave goods, it was believed to have had religious significance.

We applauded enthusiastically at the conclusion of Lydell’s remarks. He acknowledged our response with a nod of his head and segued smoothly into the fund-raising portion of the meeting.

My thoughts kept returning to Una Vida and searching every nook and cranny in it for my partner, if it looked promising. First, however, there was a little matter of a $50,000 check to present to the committee representative, followed by a quick photo opportunity for anyone remotely connected to the venture.

*   *   *

I passed the main desk on the way to the bunkroom and saw Karen talking with some tourists. When she glanced in my direction, we smiled at each other. She looked polished and professional in her tan uniform shirt and dark green pants. I checked my cell phone for reception and located a quiet corner where I could call Gina, leaving her a voice mail message about Una Vida. I picked up a brochure and a map of the area and was about to request explicit directions when the desk clerk beckoned to me.

"Are you Dr. Curtis?"

"I am."

"Someone left this for you earlier." She gave me an envelope with my name printed in block letters on the front. It contained a single sheet of notebook paper. I felt my body stiffen as I read the contents.

Hey, Lover Girl,

She's been calling your name. If you want to see her while she's still alive, come to the witches' house. Are you smart enough to find it? I hope so. Her life depends on it. No Cops. Come alone, or she dies.

I'm sure you remember me. Think Wales... about a year ago.

I'm an old and intimate friend.

A roaring sound filled my head and the nerves along my spine seemed electrified. Terry Simms. Who else could it be?

"When did this arrive?"

The clerk swallowed. "I'm not sure."

Karen joined us. "Can I help with anything?"

"I need to know when this letter was delivered."

"Oh, I remember some woman dropping that off for you." She checked her watch. "I'd say it was about an hour ago."

"Did you recognize her?"

"No," they answered in unison.

Karen noticed that a group of people had stopped by the far end of the counter. "Go ahead and see to them, Julie. I can help Dr. Curtis." She walked me to a more private section of the lobby.

"I could overhear everything she said to the desk clerk. She didn't leave a name, PJ. I figured she was part of your Chaco Preservation Group."

"Can you describe her?"

"On the tall side. Dark hair, cut short. And I think she was wearing jeans and a navy or black T-shirt."

"Thank you."

She gave me a quizzical look. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Thanks."

Terry's hair was shoulder length and red when I last had the displeasure of seeing her, but she could've altered her appearance. She was, after all, a fugitive. "One more thing. Is there some place in the canyon known as the Witches' House?"

"Oh, that." Karen made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "The legend says that a skin-walker, or Navajo witch, maybe more than one, lives in Uda Vida and keeps victims captive on Fajada Butte. Makes them go without food or water, or so the story goes, then sacrifices them to the ancient gods by tossing them off the top of the butte. It's just a superstition."

"I'm sure it is," I said, taking a pen from my shoulder bag and plucking a Chaco Canyon trail map from a nearby display. "What's the fastest way to get up there?"

"You want to go there by yourself?" Karen's eyes darted to the interior office behind her, noting the presence of a few male park service personnel. "I mean, John or Steve would go with you, I'm sure."

"That won't be necessary."

Karen lowered her voice. "Really, PJ, I know I said it was just superstition, but still it's creepy around those parts. There's not a lot of daylight left and you could get hurt scrambling around up there. Some of the walls have fallen in on themselves lately. You'll see markers warning visitors to stay clear. I don't think you want to go alone."

"I'm afraid I have to."

She sighed and pointed out a route on my map.

"I appreciate your concern, and if it'll ease your mind, I'll leave this list of numbers you can call if you haven't heard from me in a reasonable amount of time."

Karen scanned the list I had pulled out of my bag.

"I've already left a message on your aunt's cell phone. She may want to get out here and look around."

Twin spots of color appeared on Karen's cheeks and her eyes widened. "If you want Aunt Gina there, it sounds too dangerous to go alone, especially in view of Dr. Blair's disappearance."

"I'm not sure of anything at this point, but just let me try my way first, okay? I'd feel foolish if it turned out to be a big fuss over nothing. If I sense anything out of the ordinary, any danger, I'll come right back here to headquarters."

She hesitated a few seconds. "I'm giving you one hour, PJ. If you're not back by then, I'm coming after you, and I'll bring everybody I can find with me."

"Fair enough."

*   *   *

When Terry had released me from the chains, I collapsed onto the dusty blanket, lacking even the strength to crawl out of my own filth. She tied my hands and feet, but my condition made such restraint unnecessary.

Terry smiled as she watched me lying there. She'd amused herself, on several occasions, by kicking me in the ribs and poking at my breasts and belly. When she tired of physical abuse, she'd taunt me verbally. I braced myself for more of her insults.

Her comments focused on what she termed my once sexy body and how we'd been such insatiable lovers. Her detailed account of our lives together sickened me. How could I not have seen through her and her desire for self-gratification in our relationship? This woman was incapable of loving anyone.

Sometimes she'd switch her raunchy comments to PJ and her body, telling me how they'd made love in our hotel room in Wales. I knew that was a lie, but imagining it still hurt.

"Jake and I watched you two in your hot tub at the ranch one evening."

When I raised my head at that news, she giggled.

"We used our binoculars. You thought you had all that privacy, didn't you? We got off on watching you two skinny-dipping in the tub in the moonlight. And one time we followed you to a picnic spot. Do you remember that day? Nice basket of goodies. Warm sunshine. Both of you cuddling on a blanket under a big, blue sky. Before we knew it, you two got naked and went at it right out there in the open. Really turned me on. I felt sorry for PJ, though. If I'd been there with her, she'd have been breathless and begging for more. Of course, like a dutiful wife, she played the game and pretended. Such a pity."

"Shut up, Terry."

She shook her head. "She was a screamer that day, wasn't she? Jake was so jacked up he about had a heart attack and had to go behind a tree to ease his pain. I'll admit I had to satisfy a need, too. Have you ever felt like that, Kim? Bet you haven't. You're just too old. That's why you're not woman enough for her."

"That's enough! Just shut your filthy mouth." I paid for my outburst with a coughing fit that sent knife-like pain slashing through my ribs.

"Oh, sweetie. Did all that sexy talk make you hurt yourself?"

Terry soaked a piece of cloth in water and squeezed it over my face and lips, letting it dribble down my neck and between my breasts.

"There you go. Chill out. You'll understand if I don't touch you, won't you?" Using her foot, she jabbed at my ribs until I rolled onto my back, groaning. "And you were always so particular about cleanliness." She paused a moment to close her eyes and press her thumb and middle finger against her lids. "Now look at you. Disgusting. Just the sight of you gives me a headache."

"Then don't look," I said between painful breaths. "Walk away."

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you? That would simplify everything." She backed away from me and moved the folding chair into the darkest corner of the kiva. With a huge sigh, she settled onto it and folded her arms across her chest. "Okay, bitch, you're free to go. There's nothing I'd like better than to see you try. Of course, you might have trouble negotiating the ladder." Her mocking laughter sent icy chills through my body.

"I was toying with the idea of having a quickie with you again," she said, continuing to humiliate me with sexual references. "But I can't stand the sight or the smell of you now. I doubt your precious PJ would come anywhere near you, either."

She leaned forward on her seat. "But you never can tell. So I'll sit here awhile longer and keep you company. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I stared at Terry through eyes burning with hatred. I'd already shed my human self and was now a cornered animal. I'd ignore her baiting. I'd focus on my own private thoughts. Something comforting and genuine like PJ and the love we shared. I concentrated so hard, I could swear I heard PJ's voice. It was faint at first, but grew stronger and clearer.

Chapter 22

I left the Jeep in the deserted parking area for Pueblo del Arroyo. An old truck with a battered shell covering the back end was parked so far off the track, it appeared to have been abandoned.

From the lot, it was a twisting hike to the steep outer wall of the site. One hundred and twenty-five rooms and five kivas sounded like an impossibly wide search area, but a lot of it was in ruin. Scattered blocks of rock lay amidst overgrown vegetation and windblown mounds of sand. After scanning the map, I'd already decided that the partially ruined kivas could, with some added reinforcement, serve as hiding places. I'd check them first.

"Better get started," I mumbled under my breath.

According to the diagram, Una Vida was shaped roughly like a D. Three kivas rimmed one side of the rounded edge, one large kiva was centered inside the compound, and the fifth was on the upper edge, bracketed on two sides by a protective wall of stone. If I were holding someone hostage, that would be the most likely spot.

As I walked carefully in and around larger rocks, I tried to fathom why Terry had acted so strangely. Was she working alone, or had she had help snatching Kim from the ranch? Apparently money wasn't her motive. She'd never demanded a ransom. I'd gladly have given her everything I had to get Kim back. Terry had some other reason. What? It was hard to believe that she, or anyone, would go to such lengths because of a failed love affair—one that she had caused by cheating on Kim.

I slipped between two outcroppings to check out the depths of the crack in the earth, but found it was too shallow. As I searched, I wondered if Kim had been here in this arid and remote location for the entire time she was missing. Had she been forced along this path or that? Was she injured or hungry at the time? Terry couldn't have convinced her to remain voluntarily. What kind of situation would I find when I located her? Terry could be playing some kind of cruel mind game with me, just to get my hopes up. Maybe Kim wasn't really here at all. No matter. Terry had sent me the note, and I'd obey it to the letter.

Not surprisingly, the four prominent kivas were empty. That left the most remote and secluded one. As I climbed over rocky paths between walled outcroppings, I imagined that on stormy nights, the wind would howl and shriek through the fractures in the masonry, mimicking a witch's laugh. With little difficulty, I felt silent eyes watching me from behind ancient ceremonial masks as soft drums pounded a cadence that imitated my own heartbeat.

The air was perfectly calm. My nerves were anything but. I shivered, though I wasn't cold.

As I rounded the edge of one wall and climbed through the doorway, I located the fifth and most remote kiva. I saw warnings posted about unsafe structures and was about to back off, when the sight of an aluminum ladder poking up through the hole in the kiva's roof sent my pulse racing. Were my prayers of the past two weeks about to be answered? Would Kim be strong enough to climb that ladder? If she was, why hadn't she done it by now? Oh, God, she must be injured or securely bound. I didn't dare allow myself to believe any worse fate had befallen her. My legs were shaky enough as it was.

I approached the opening and peered downward into the gloom. Careful. This could be a trap.

A small movement drew my attention. I thought I saw a body stretched out on the dirt floor. Was it Kim? Was she alive? Please God, let her be alive. The form moved again and, ignoring all caution, I scrambled downward.

The aluminum ladder creaked and a shadow filled the roof entrance, blotting out the sunlight.

"No! PJ, go away. Terry's here. Get the hell away." I thought I was shouting, but my voice was little more than a whisper. "Please God. Someone. Anyone. Get her out of here."

PJ gave a startled cry and fell to her knees beside me, caressing my face and checking my wounds. She spoke to me, said my name, but I was too concerned about the trap she'd fallen into to hear what she was saying. I cursed my weakness, my inability to protect her.

*   *   *

"Kim! Oh God, what happened to you?" Her face was bruised, streaked with dirt and dried blood, and her neck bled freely from several puncture wounds. I gagged at the stench of sweat and urine coming from her body and soiled clothing. She'd been brutally treated and tortured. When I tried to comfort her, she twitched and shrank from my touch.

"Go... PJ... No... Please go." Her voice was so weak.

I touched her face with trembling hands and kissed her forehead, not realizing I was crying until my tears dripped onto her nose and cheeks. Her eyes glistened with tears. I took her hand and gently kissed her scraped knuckles, wincing at the sight of her cracked and broken fingernails. How much pain could one woman endure? Her skin was coated with tan, gritty dirt and her body was a patchwork of painful looking bruises and lacerations.

"You're alive. Thank God." I pulled the chain with both medallions from my neck and eased it over Kim's head. "There. The shaman says they'll make you stronger." Her expression puzzled me. It was a mixture of love and panic. "I'm so glad I found you. You're the most beautiful sight in the world, but you can't stay here another second in this filth. We've got to get you to a hospital. And we'll patch you up with some first aid supplies to make you more comfortable before that." I braced my arms under her shoulders, kept her head pillowed against my chest, and tried to boost her up. She pushed me away, muttering something about Terry.

"Don't try to talk. I can't understand what you're saying anyway. You're kind of heavy, honey, so we'll have to take it slowly, but we'll manage. I'm not leaving without you."

"Oh, you've got that right." The voice came from behind me. "Neither of you will be leaving here. Now put her down and stand up."

Still struggling with Kim, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Terry emerge from the shadows. Even with a different hair color and cut, there was no mistaking her voice. She leveled a gun at me.

I lowered Kim to the ground and stared at Terry, feeling more fury than fear. "Are you insane, woman? You've nearly killed her. What do you want from us? Name your price. I'll pay you anything, but we have to get her medical attention." I continued to stroke Kim's forehead, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She moaned and shifted to her side.

"I don't want your lousy money," Terry said, rubbing her temple. "You rich bitches are all alike. You think you can order people around. Make them do what you want. See this gun? This time I do the ordering. I've killed once already, twice if you count your wolf dog. You two are next on my list. So, get up and come over here."

"This isn't a game, Terry. All that crazy talk about killing isn't funny. You may have shot our dog, but he didn't die. Just let me get Kim to a hospital."

Her arm snaked around my neck and yanked me upward, choking me until I couldn't breathe. She pushed the gun into my lower back and dragged me to a pilaster where arm and leg manacles were bolted firmly into the stone work. I understood, belatedly, where Kim had been imprisoned for the past two weeks.

"You won't get away with this." My breath came in puffs and black spots floated before my eyes. My legs weakened.

Terry pulled the gun from my back and slammed me against the wall, strapping a leather collar around my neck before I could regain my balance. I turned to resist, but sharp metal points jabbed my neck. I gasped in pain, and she quickly had my wrists and ankles secured so that I was hugging the pilaster, unable to turn my head more than an inch or two in any direction.

So this is what turned Kim's neck into raw meat. Jesus.

Sweat dampened my forehead, neck and chest, sending stinging reminders of my precarious predicament.

Although I couldn't see what was happening behind me, I now had an intimate view of the exquisite stone masonry before me. At our conference, we were told that some of the walls in Chaco Canyon had begun to decay over the years. Unfortunately for me, this wall appeared to be as rigid as the day it was built.

Terry's fingers probed the pockets of my shirt and shorts. I heard Kim shifting restlessly, cursing. I prayed she wouldn't provoke our tormentor further. Kim wouldn't survive another round of torture. I couldn't imagine how she'd managed to last as long as she had in this painful Machiavellian set-up. If I could keep Terry away from her and focused on me for a while longer, maybe Karen would get help to us in time.

"You're in control, Terry. If you don't want money, what do you want? How can we resolve this situation to everyone's satisfaction?"

"What are you? Chief negotiator now?" She tugged a set of keys from my left hip pocket. "For starters, I'll take your shiny red Jeep. I've been admiring that little number since you got it. I like how you zip over the roads to and from your ranch with the top down. The truck I've got isn't made for these roads. A nice four wheel drive get-away vehicle will come in handy, don't you think?"

"It's yours. Take it and get out of here before anyone else gets hurt."

Her shrill laughter sent fearful tremors along my spine. "Oh, you poor, clueless bitch. You're just now catching on. You'll get hurt all right."

I felt the end of her gun move upward along my spine, stopping just below the collar.

She patted my right hip pocket. "And what do we have here? A weapon?"

"A Swiss Army knife. I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. Firearms aren't allowed in the canyon."

"Oops!" Terry chortled and slid the cold metal gun barrel across my cheek. "Guess I'll get a few demerits for packing this little baby, huh?"

"It's not too late to walk away. Please, just leave the keys to the cuffs and take the Jeep. Kim needs a doctor." My throat tightened without any help from the collar.

Terry removed the gun, ignored my pleas, and fiddled with the knife. I could hear her opening and closing the various blades just beyond my line of sight.

"This'll do nicely," she said, gripping the back of my shirt. "I have great plans for you, you little slut. We were rudely interrupted a year ago in Wales, and recently, when we were together in the same room, you were busy showing your audience all those treasures from Greece."

Oh God. The University of New Mexico lecture and the lady in the back who'd looked familiar.

A shudder coursed through my body.

"Don't you think you owe me a bit of loving before you die?"

"Please Terry. Don't do this."

"Oh, sweetheart, it'll be fun. For me anyway. You smell much better than Kim, and I'm sure she won't mind watching us. Might even turn her on."

I heard the fabric rip down the middle of my back. My bra fastener was next to go. Cool air hit my bare, sweat-soaked skin.

"There. Isn't that better?" She stroked my back and slid her hands around to squeeze my breasts. "Such fun."

I yelped and quickly changed my tactics. "If I do this with you, will you let Kim go?"

Terry pressed herself against my back. "I don't think you're in any position to call the shots right now," she whispered into my ear. "In fact, your willing participation isn't an issue. I'll do whatever I want with you."

Somewhere behind us, Kim growled, but Terry ignored her. She rubbed her palms down my sides and over my butt. "You know, I never did see that shamrock tattoo on your tight little ass." She tugged at the waistband of my shorts and then hesitated. "Remember how we talked about pleasure and pain when we were last together?"

"What?" I wanted to keep her talking, but her thought pattern was too erratic. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Let me show you how a little pain helps to heighten sexual pleasure." She giggled. "Don't go away. I need to get something first."

I heard nothing for a moment or two and then a swish of rapidly moving air, followed by a loud snap. Still pondering the mysterious sound, I was unprepared for the harsh crack of what must have been a whip across my back and the searing bum that accompanied it.

I gritted my teeth, but couldn't keep from whimpering.

Sweet Jesus. The pain radiated through my muscles. She was enjoying herself too much to stop at one. She was going to keep at it until I passed out.

Sweat coated my back, making the wound sting and burn. Shit. I had underestimated her mental state. She's nuts. Completely crazy. Kim and I had figured Terry was out of our lives forever, and neither of us worried about security at the ranch. If only I'd been more cautious in coming here, thinking I could reason with Terry on my own. Kim and I will pay for that mistake with our lives. I closed my eyes and braced for the next blow.

It never came.

Instead, I heard scuffling and grunting from two struggling bodies. Terror tightened around my chest like another manacle.

"Oh, Kim." I shivered, barely able to speak. "Be careful." Terry had the gun. She was strong. Kim had no weapon and was so weak. "Please. Oh, God. Please."

A shot rang out, deafening me.

I screamed and the collar's sharp teeth stabbed my neck.

An eerie silence followed.

Chapter 23

When I saw Terry retrieve a bull whip from the corner, hatred boiled inside me like volcanic lava about to erupt. Menacingly, she unfurled the weapon, making it crack and swish in a slow-motion arc before lashing it across PJ's exposed back. When PJ moaned, I experienced her pain as if it were my own.

The medallions throbbed against my neck, sending Shockwaves of energy to my chest, arms, and down both legs. With the added power fueling my rage, I summoned all my strength, staggered to my feet, and snagged the end of the whip as Terry drew it back. The action threw her off balance. With a quick motion, I yanked her closer to me.

She reached one hand into her waistband for the gun, and I slammed my head against hers, nearly knocking myself out with the blow. Terry dropped to her knees, but was up instantly, throwing a punch to the side of my head.

I felt no pain. I was beyond pain, feeling only rage. She'd reduced me to an animal, so I battled like one.

My grip on her slackened. We fought for control of the gun. She whirled away, but I pounced after her, hurling against her chest, squeezing the fingers wrapped around the gun, desperately trying to keep the weapon aimed at the floor. A bullet hitting a wall could ricochet and take out any of us.

I clung to her with all my strength, but I was weakening. If she shot me, I intended to take her with me. And PJ won't be alone if I die. She'll have Pup.

The gun's barrel slid through our fingers, twisting upward. When the weapon fired, the noise slammed my eardrums and echoed around the walls of the kiva. I thought my head had exploded. The smell of warm blood filled my nostrils and for several seconds, time stood still.

So this is what it's like to die.

Numbness spread through every part of my body. Terry's surprised expression changed to fear. Her muscles relaxed and she slithered to the floor, clawing and tugging at my hips. Blood spurted from a wound in her abdomen. The weight of her body pulled me to my knees. Dazed, I stared at my bloodstained hands and the still-smoking gun. The gurgling sound in Terry's throat was the last sound she made. Her body lay still in the ever-widening pool of blood.

I don't know how much time had elapsed before I realized PJ was calling my name. I dropped the gun, fumbled through Terry's pockets for the keys, and crawled toward the pilaster.

"I'm here."

"Thank God," PJ managed to say before bursting into tears.

I patted her leg and tried to push the key into one of the ankle locks, but my hands shook too much. After several fumbling attempts, I got the key into the lock and freed PJ's legs.

"It's all right," I said, gagging on the words.

It wasn't all right. Something had gone terribly wrong. Terry was dead and I'd killed her. Despite what she'd become, she was a human being, a woman I'd once loved. I turned again to PJ and with what little energy I had left, I tried but couldn't unlock the cuffs on her wrists.

She was sobbing, still chained to the wall, and unable to move. I wanted to free her but I was too weak, too shaky, to help her. That's when I saw it. The broken jar of corpse powder. Terry and I must have smashed it during our scuffle. The contents were scattered over the dirt floor. I felt light-headed, but I knew I had to keep it together for PJ's sake. Using what little strength I had left, I fought to stay conscious, though I didn't feel connected to my body. I felt paralyzed and unable to control what happened to me.

*   *   *

After lying there in the accumulated dirt of ages for what seemed like forever, I heard a distant hum which soon became a roar. Helicopters, it sounded like helicopters, then voices; men and women barking orders at each other.

I felt a padded protective bandage slip around my neck and strong arms lifted me onto a board. I babbled about corpse powder to anyone near me and was frustrated when no one listened. Someone took the keys from my hand. In my shadow vision, I sensed that someone had removed PJ's collar and unlocked the manacles at her wrists. Someone else caught her when her knees buckled.

A woman examined me thoroughly but carefully, trying not to hurt me further. I remember hearing her words of intended comfort. I was only vaguely aware of the straps tightening across my chest and legs as the litter was secured for transport up through the hole in the kiva's roof. In my weakened state, I felt a breeze caress my face and thought it intoxicating.

"PJ!" I cried. Where had she gone? Was she safe now?

"We've got her," the woman said. "She'll be fine."

I could tell by the uniform that the female voice belonged to a ranger. I squinted at her name plate. Karen Forbes. She had a reassuring voice and gentle hands.

Two emergency medical technicians came and worked on either side of the litter, hooking up an IV while, in the background, the subdued sound of an idling helicopter rotor meant we'd soon be out of this hellhole. I knew I wasn't in good shape. Maybe I wouldn't make it. I could see, even in my semi-conscious state, that the EMTs weren't sure either. It'd be so easy to close my eyes and let go, but I needed to see PJ safely out of here. And I had to warn someone about the corpse powder and have them call in a Hazmat team. They didn't seem to realize the whitish stuff scattered across the floor was lethal.

Chapter 24

I was in a partitioned cubicle in the emergency room of Mountain Memorial Hospital outside of Santa Fe, lying face down on a gurney, wrapped in a thin hospital gown left open at the back to allow for the treatment of my neck and back wounds. My thoughts drifted to Kim. Where had they taken her? Was she going to be all right? The nurse finished plastering me with burning ointment and was in the process of applying sterile bandages. When she'd finished, I braced myself on my elbows and turned to ask her about Kim. She had no information.

As if to add to my frustration, Detective Nelson poked his head between the curtains and took a step inside.

"Are you a relative?" the nurse asked him.

"Worse," I said. "He's a police detective."

"Oh, honey, you have my sympathy." She gave him a stern look. "You may have five minutes, and only five." She finished taping the dressing around my neck and patted my shoulder.

"And Kim?"

"I'll see what I can find out."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

She shot another withering glance in the detective's direction. "She's had pain meds, so don't be surprised if she dozes off. If that happens, let her sleep. Understand?"

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." As he stepped to the front of the gurney, his gaze swept over my back.

"What's the matter? My butt showing?"

"No, no, you're fine. Really."

I shifted to my side, facing him more directly, clutching the fabric to my chest. "I hate hospitals and I hate these stupid, skimpy gowns."

"Ms. Curtis, I need a brief statement from you, while you're... um... alert."

I faked a yawn, and watched him squirm. "Sure hope I don't zonk out in the middle of this."

"I'll hurry," he said.

"Why isn't Gina here?"

"She got a call about the bones your dog found. We have a tentative ID on them and it's opened up a whole new investigation."

"Bones? More than one?"

"Yes. A partial skeleton now, thanks to that animal of yours."

"Really?"

"I imagine Gina will be here later to check on you, unless you've already been discharged."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere until I find Kim and make sure she's okay."

"Right. Let's get on with this, then." He consulted his notes. "You've identified the deceased woman as Terry Simms."

"That's correct. She was Kim's former lover and the woman who attacked me in Wales."

"How did you know where to look for Ms. Blair when you got to Chaco Canyon?"

"Terry left a message for me at the front desk in the headquarters sometime during the conference."

"I see. Why didn't you contact the police when you got the note and realized who had sent it?"

"She instructed me to come alone or she'd kill Kim, and I believed her. I wasn't positive about the location, but before I went to check it out, I called Gina and left her a message. Ranger Forbes wanted me to have backup also, and when I refused, she told me she'd wait an hour and then I was getting help whether I needed it or not." I thought he'd have some sarcastic reply to that, but he moved on to other questions.

"Did Terry Simms indicate why she had taken Dr. Blair? Did she implicate any accomplices?"

"I don't remember her mentioning anyone else, and I don't think she did it for money because I offered her any amount she wanted. She did tell us that she'd killed before and that more killings would be easy. I've no doubt she intended to kill us, too." My eyelids drooped, and I no longer needed to feign exhaustion.

He asked more questions. I answered to the best of my ability, but my mind kept returning to that one about the police. Why hadn't I called them immediately and waited for help? Why was I compelled to do what Terry ordered? Did I think I could be a heroine and rescue Kim all by myself? If I'd acted differently, they might not have struggled over the gun, and Terry might still be alive. That troubling thought lodged in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

*   *   *

I tried to move, but an array of tubes and wires secured me to the bed and they were connected to an assortment of softly beeping electronic monitors. PJ was in and out for brief visits. The nurse said it was for five minutes every two hours, but it didn't seem that long or that often. No sooner had she arrived, kissed my forehead, and taken my hand, than they ushered her out again. If only she could stay longer with me. After all we'd been through, what possible harm could that do?

I suppose I was drugged out of my mind. Nobody seemed to understand what I was talking about. I begged them to test the corpse powder and find an antidote.

"There, there," a nurse had said, "there's nothing to worry about."

The doctors I spoke with were even less helpful. One, a particularly cold fish, told the nurses to pay no attention to my incoherent babbling, that I was hallucinating, and if I didn't stop demanding an audience, he'd increase my medication, just to keep me quiet.

I knew if he or anybody else ignored me, no amount of medication would reverse the effect of the corpse powder. I wasn't worried for myself so much as I was for PJ and the rescuers. They'd all been in contact with and breathed the deadly powder in the kiva.

I closed my eyes, trying to form some coherent thoughts. I heard voices. Doctor Cold Fish again. I pretended to be asleep.

"That woman's demanding more time with this patient. Who does she think she is? She's not a relative, though she has Power of Attorney and pretends to know some important people."

"She la important, Doctor," the nurse said quietly but firmly. "Not only is she the daughter of Frederick Lane Curtis, she's a prominent archaeologist. She certainly has the right to be here."

"Is this one of those so-called same sex relationships?" the doctor asked as he turned to leave.

"They're colleagues," the nurse answered.

"The resident on call can deal with them. Don't page me unless there's an emergency."

She waited until he was out of earshot. "Yes sir, Dr. Shithead."

I managed a weak smile. It was the first one in a log time. Maybe it would be my last, considering my condition and the effects of the corpse powder.

It's probably already eating me from the inside out. PJ, too.

"Oh, my God. No!"

I made a quick, involuntary movement and pulled something loose, sending off an alarm that had a couple of nurses hovering over me.

I kept bringing bad things into your life, PJ, and it isn't over yet.

If I survive this, I'll be useless, dependent on you for everything. I heard myself moan. I've feared something like that ever since we got together. I'm so much older than you. You've got to follow your own path. You'll be much better off without me dragging you down. All I ask is that you remember that I love you more than life itself. I always will.

After the nurses replaced my tube, PJ was allowed in to see me.

"You may stay a little longer this time," the nurse told her, "as long as you don't excite the patient."

"Mmm, I'd love to excite you," PJ whispered, once we were alone. "While you were missing, Holy Girl came to me in a dream. She told me that I needed to seek una vida. That's one life in Spanish, Kim. As soon as she said it, I realized that's how I think of us. Together, we make one whole life. As soon as I heard the name from one of the presenters at the Chaco Canyon meeting, I knew that's where I'd find you. Can you believe it?"

"One life?" I wasn't sure what she was saying. My brain wasn't moving at her speed yet. It was good to see her and she seemed to think a spirit guide had given her good advice. She asked me a question. I'd better give her an answer. One life. Hers and mine? Joined as one? "Yes," I said. "I believe it."

When she gently kissed my forehead and cheek, I saw the bandage around her neck where the collar had punctured her flesh, as it had mine. Other than sitting forward in the visitor's chair to avoid putting pressure on her injured back, she seemed to be okay. Thinking of what had happened in the kiva had reminded me of an important issue. I was relieved to see that she seemed okay, physically, but I couldn't let her think she or any of us were totally free from harm just yet.

"PJ," I whispered, gripping her hand so tightly she flinched. "You've heard of corpse powder?" My words formed slowly. I couldn't get my mind to work fast enough. Whatever they were pumping into me was so powerful it had turned my brain to fluff.

She nodded, though her frown indicated that she wasn't sure why we needed to discuss the topic.

"Corpse powder was in the kiva. Terry brought it in ajar and it broke open during our fight over the gun."

PJ raised an eyebrow and shot me one of her "yeah, so" looks.

"You must listen to me."

"Honey, I know what corpse powder is supposed to be and what it'll do to a person. But it's just an old Indian story. There's nothing to it."

"We can't ignore it. There's too much at stake. Your life, the medics, and rangers. All of them are at risk."

"Don't forget yourself, then, if you insist on believing it's evil."

"My life doesn't matter."

"It certainly does matter. Anyway, where could Terry have found the stuff, if there's really such a thing? It's not good for you to get all worked up over this right now."

"But you have to—"

"All I have to do is stay here with you." Her hand caressed my face, tenderly stroking my forehead and cheeks. It felt so cool, so soothing, comforting. I was tempted to let it lull me into a peaceful sleep, but I couldn't.

"Please listen to me."

"Okay." She took a long breath. "Go ahead. Get if off your chest."

"I don't know for sure it was corpse powder in that jar, but we can't play with fate. I'm in bad shape. A little corpse powder isn't going to make much difference to me."

"Don't say things like that." A tear trickled down her cheek and more threatened.

"I just want you to have someone test the powder from the kiva to see if it's human in origin. Are you listening to me?"

PJ sniffed. "I'm listening."

"It has to be done for your sake, and for those who helped us in the kiva."

She closed her eyes and took another breath. "If it's corpse powder, is there an antidote? And what happens to the people who collect the specimens and those who process it in the lab? Won't they be endangered too?"

I puckered my forehead, trying to sort through the fluff. "They'll wear hazmat clothing, and they'll have experience with handling deadly substances. You can arrange it. Your dad can help you. He'll know who to contact. Promise me you'll do it."

"Oh, Kim, I—"

"Please."

"Okay, I'll do it for you. But I think it's a waste of time."

"Go, then. Get on with it."

"Right now? This is the first time they're allowing me to stay longer with you."

"Yes, right now. It's vital."

She kissed my cheek and gave my hands a parting squeeze. Before exiting the cubicle, she turned and gave me a crooked grin. "I love you to pieces, you know, even though you drive me crazy sometimes."

I nodded my response.

Chapter 25

"I wondered when I'd see you again." I was in the waiting area next to the ICU when Gina walked in and sat beside me. Her timing was perfect. It'd be at least another half hour before I could see Kim again, and I'd finished leafing through all the magazines. Gina and I had a lot to discuss. I told the volunteer aide where to locate me, and the detective and I found an empty table in the cafeteria.

"Coffee?" Gina asked.

"No, thanks. I'm not that brave. I'll take some tea, though."

"I'm sorry to have been so long in getting back to the hospital," Gina said, when she returned with our beverages. She stirred her coffee and took a sip. "Shit, this stuffs awful. Worse than the State Police Barracks, and that's saying something."

"Switch to tea. It's a bit better."

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"You're a tough-as-nails policewoman. I figured you could handle strong coffee."

"Mmm. I'm thinking this is payback for neglecting you."

"I'd like to exercise my Fifth Amendment rights, Sergeant Esperanza."

She took another sip and shuddered. "It's probably aiding and abetting an ulcer as we speak."

"You're too tough for ulcers." I drank my tea and watched her smile. "So, what do you have for me?"

"I'm here to tie up a lot of loose ends."

"Great. I didn't appreciate getting my news from Detective Nelson. He's not exactly a wealth of information. And is he ever uptight."

"He's still tongue-tied around you."

"Tongue-tied?" I frowned at her. "Are we talking about the same Detective Nelson?"

Gina shook her head. "Damn it. He still hasn't explained." She consulted her notebook. "Forget I said anything. Let's start over." She looked up at me. "How's Dr. Blair?"

"She'd want you to call her Kim."

"Sorry. I forgot. How's she doing?"

"It was pretty scary at first, but the doctors are more optimistic about her recovery now. There may be psychological stuff to deal with later on, though. I think they'll keep her in intensive care for another day, and then transfer her to a private room. It's going to be a long road back for her, but she's tough and stubborn. She'll make it, if I have anything to say about it."

"Good. That's really good. And how are your injuries?"

"Oh, they've patched me up just fine."

Gina's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything more on that subject. "By the way, Karen and Mike send you their thanks. Her car was fixed in record time and at a remarkably cheap rate. Karen suspects you had a hand in all of that, and I concur."

"Again, I plead the fifth."

"Yeah. I figured you would. Anyway, she's grateful and sends her thanks."

"I'm glad it worked out for her. And I'm grateful for the rescue effort she led on our behalf."

"I'm sure she'd tell you that it's all in a day's work. She's got good instincts. She wasn't about to let you go off on your own for very long. When she saw what had happened in the kiva, and how you and Kim worried about each other, she knew you were more than just colleagues, too."

"Oh," I said. "I wasn't sure how she'd react if I admitted the extent of our relationship."

"It's not a problem. Karen's a romantic at heart, and she's just glad you two are together again."

"Me, too."

I took another sip of tea.

"So what's the big mystery with the bones?" I asked. "Your partner said you'd found more."

"Pup did. He led us to another buried cache. You know, he'd be a great addition to the police force."

"Forget it. He's got enough to do with saving our hides on a regular basis."

"True. I don't know if Mark told you, but Pup was acting weird just before we got the call to come to Chaco to rescue you and Kim."

"No. This is the first I've heard anything about that."

"He whined and howled and ran to the door, trying to pry it open. Once we got the message, though, he settled down. It was as if he understood that we were going to help you both. He's an amazing animal."

"We think so. I'm glad he found more bones for you."

"Oh, right. I got side-tracked. We've identified the remains. It was a banker who disappeared several years ago under mysterious circumstances. The former owner of Kim's ranch went to him for a loan and was refused. The rancher was forced to sell the property. He looked good for the possible homicide, but no evidence turned up and the banker's body was never found. It was hard to make a case, until now. We tracked the alleged murderer to a jail in northern Mexico, confronted him with the evidence, and got a confession. We're working on extradition with the Mexican authorities."

"Fantastic. Well done, Detective Sergeant Esperanza."

"Well done, Pup, you mean. He has a real nose for criminology and forensics."

"I think he just likes bones."

She laughed. "Probably."

"Hey, speaking of bones reminds me of the corpse powder thing that had Kim so freaked out."

"Right." She turned a few pages in her folder. "I have a report from the lab right here, someplace." She slid a folded piece of paper across the table to me. "Looks like you're off the hook."

I scanned the document. "Thank God. Talc and household cleanser. This should satisfy her. Now she can stop threatening me with sweat lodges and cleansing ceremonies."

"I know what you mean. Your housekeeper's been beside herself with worry about contamination and witches' spells. She was certain you and Kim would be subjected to a lifetime of pain and suffering. The Simms woman certainly knew how to damage her victims psychologically."

"She knew all the right buttons to push. And I guess it's 'once a Navajo, always a Navajo' when it comes to taboos and harmony with Little Bird. She's so sweet, though. I don't know how I'd have survived this whole ordeal without her and Jasper. All of you, actually."

"Just part of the job, ma'am," Gina said. "Oh, I almost forgot." She rummaged through her briefcase and produced several pages of white, typed paper. "When Kim is able to process the information, you may want to show her this. It's a preliminary copy of the autopsy report on Terry Simms."

I felt my back stiffen. "The shot killed her, didn't it?"

"Essentially, but she also had a brain tumor, one that she'd lived with for some time. It most likely caused her aberrant behavior."

"Are you saying she was crazy?"

"The ME says she was definitely mentally unstable because of this tumor and its location. He said it was a virtual certainty that she'd have become more violent and dangerous over time."

"My God! She was dangerous enough in the kiva."

"It might help Kim to know that Terry Simms couldn't have continued as a productive member of society. In fact, her life expectancy was probably numbered in months, if not weeks."

I felt a momentary sadness for the dead woman. "She was a highly-respected anthropologist at one time. Do you suppose she knew about the tumor?"

"Hard to tell. Maybe she sought medical help."

"Maybe she didn't, seeing as how she was on the run from the law."

"She must have suffered some ill health. Debilitating headaches, if nothing else."

I gripped Gina's hand. "Thank you so much. I'll let Kim know."

"Oh, and more good news, I think. The investigation is ongoing, of course, but we found some papers in the kiva that have led us to a few places in southern New Mexico and a town across the border in Mexico. We recovered a lot of alleged stolen property, and we hope to have something for you to identify and claim in a few days."

"That is good news."

Gina poked into another folder in her briefcase.

"I also can't go into details on this, but I need to talk to Kim again when she's able to give us a longer interview. We think we've found the accomplice who worked with Terry. Kim told us his name was Jake and she gave us a brief description of him before she went into surgery."

"That's fantastic. I'm sure Kim'll want him brought to justice, if it's the right guy."

Gina shook her head. "If it's the right guy, it's too late for him. He's dead."

"Oh, my God."

"When Mark interviewed you in the ER, you said the Simms woman admitted killing someone."

"Yes. Kim and I both heard her say so."

"We're still putting all the pieces of the story together, but we think this was the killing she meant."

"Geez."

A hospital volunteer found me and told me I could visit with Kim for ten minutes.

"Thank you, Rosemary, I'll be right along." I turned and gave Gina an impromptu parting hug. "Thanks for everything. I think we're going to be okay now. Kim'll be so relieved to get all this information. Even though it was self-defense, I know she feels guilty about killing Terry. Maybe it'll help Kim a little to know about the tumor."

"You're very welcome, PJ." She opened her shoulder bag and pulled out an envelope. "Before I forget, I want to return this. The EMTs took it off Kim before transport."

I opened the flap. "Our medallions. I wondered where they were."

Gina hesitated. "They seem to have some sort of special significance for both of you."

"They do, yes. Thanks for returning them."

"Do you know why they feel so warm?"

I was pulling the chain over my head, but froze in mid-motion. "What did you say?"

"They were both warm, when I touched them. One was even hot for a time. I couldn't figure out how that could happen. How could you stand to wear them that way?"

My stomach did a complete flip-flop. I felt the color drain from my face. For a brief moment, I thought I might faint.

Amazon alert! She felt the heat. It means she's one of us.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. And, oh dear, I need to see Kim right now, but we have to talk about these." I held up the medallions. "Soon, okay? It's important that you and I have a chat, preferably over a bottle of wine or something stiffer."

"Now you've really got me curious." Gina looked at her watch. "And, I've got to run along, too. So, sure, we'll meet. I want to know all about that crazy jewelry of yours. Call me, okay? And if you have more questions, or if you need anything else, let me know." She waved as we parted outside the cafeteria and headed in opposite directions.

*   *   *

I lay in my bed, still hooked up to the monitors. Is this life support? What kind of life is it supporting?

The nurses moved silently around me and the doctor was in and out with barely a word to anyone. Perhaps they were getting ready to pull the plug. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea, except for the fact that I'd be leaving PJ. Perhaps that, too, would be better in the long run. For her.

"Hey, tiger. I'm back."

I felt a cool hand on my face and soft lips brush my forehead. When I opened my eyes, PJ was leaning over me. She took my hand and encased it in both of hers. "You okay?"

"As well as I can be under the circumstances." My throat hurt and my voice was raspy, but if I didn't move, I felt no discomfort. As soon as I shifted, the pain brought tears to my eyes. "Are you all right?"

"As long as I'm here with you, I'm perfect. How are you doing on your reduced pain medication?"

"Not good."

"They want to wean you off the strong stuff as soon as possible."

"I know, but it isn't easy."

"That doesn't mean going without. I know you'd rather suffer than ask for something, even if it's only Tylenol or Aspirin."

"I'll ask."

"Promise me?"

"Yes. Okay. I promise."

"Good." She gave me a dazzling smile and pulled up a chair. "I have lots of news for you."

I stared at her, wondering what she could have to say that would make her so happy. Lying in that hospital bed, I'd had a lot of time to think about what lay ahead for PJ and me. I knew what I had to do about our situation, and it wouldn't make either of us happy, but it had to be done.

"First," PJ said, "I have to do this." She leaned over and licked my cheek.

"What the hell?"

"Pup asked me to deliver that." Her eyes were bright with amusement.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, I'll be serious. We have limited time, and you're not as medicated for the pain today, so I'll make it short and to the point. Gina said the tests on the alleged corpse powder were negative. It's nothing but a mixture of talc, sand, and some kind of household cleanser. No sweat lodges, cleansing, or anything like that for us."

"Yeah, well..."

"It's a relief, isn't it?"

"I'm pleased for you and whoever else came into the kiva that day, but I might've been better off if it'd been the real stuff."

She bolted upright in her chair. "That damn medication must be messing with your mind. How can you make such a ridiculous statement?"

"Okay, somewhere deep inside me, I guess I'm glad to hear it. Now, please go. You must have something better to do than sit here with this wreck of a human being."

"But, I'm not through yet. I have something else to tell you that might make you feel a little better about Terry's death."

Guilt washed over me like a bucket of dirty dish water. "And what could that possibly be?"

"She was sick. When they did the autopsy, they found a brain tumor. The preliminary findings indicated it may have caused her madness. The medical examiner also said she probably wouldn't have survived more than a few months. I know how you feel. It was tragic that she died, but she was suffering and you saved her from that."

You don't know how I feel. She died because of me. Nothing will make that right.

"Gina gave me a copy of the report. You can read it as soon as you're up to it." PJ's fingers brushed through my hair, absently rearranging the top and one side as she spoke. "Instead of robbing her of life, you stopped Terry's agony and saved our lives, too. She's at peace now. We need to forgive, forget, and move on."

I glanced away, not daring to look at her. "That's easy for you to say. You didn't pull the trigger."

"Damn it, Kim, you haven't heard a word I've said. It's not like you did it on purpose."

I could hear exasperation in her voice. She went on.

"You were fighting for your life. And mine. It was an accident. We can't change that."

"PJ, please leave now. We're only upsetting each other."

I watched her eyes glisten with unshed tears, knowing I'd caused it. Would this insanity never end?

"We seem to be doing that a lot lately," she said softly. "And I have some amazing news to tell you, but I'll go if that's what you want. I'll be back, though. You aren't dismissing me that easily."

She kissed me on the mouth.

"Oh, dear." She fumbled in her purse until she located a tube of lip ice and applied it to my cracked and dry lips. "I'll leave this for whenever you need it."

She dropped it into the drawer in my bedside table. "And I'll save my really cool surprise for when you're in better spirits."

I didn't respond. I had no idea when that might be.

I called Gina that evening and we arranged to meet at a cafe near the hospital the next morning. Kim's mood had taken such a dramatic downturn that I was worried about what to say to her anymore.

We found a booth in the back and ordered a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and tea.

"So what's up, PJ? Are you going to explain about the crazy jewelry from yesterday?"

I prepared my tea before trying the eggs. "Okay, sure. We'll get to that in a second. I want to talk about Kim first. My chat with her about all the stuff you told me didn't go over like I thought it would."

Gina chewed her toast and swallowed. "What happened?"

"She was cranky and barely heard anything I said. She couldn't wait for me to leave. All she talks about is how she killed Terry."

"It's a valid point. I've seen officers behave like that when they've had to use their guns, even in justified shootings. And it was justified for Kim, from what you told me. We know it was self-defense, but we didn't do the deed. Give her some time, okay? Be patient with her."

I took a deep breath. "I'll try."

"Let her talk and don't try to change her mind. I think her moodiness is very normal right now."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that. And I'll do my best to be calm, whatever mood she's in."

Gina poured us another cup of tea from the insulated carafe. "This tea is good. Is it what you usually drink?"

"Earl Grey. Kim and I got in the habit of drinking it when we first met in Arizona while working in the Superstition Mountains."

"With the Amazons?"

I remembered my promise to talk with her about her status and pulled my medallion out from under my shirt. "I never got a chance to tell Kim about what you discovered."

"You can tell her later on. But, I must admit, I'm curious."

I said a silent prayer that the right words would come to me. Gina was a police officer. She dealt with real world problems, probably some of the harshest human tribulation imaginable. I'd better give it to her straight out. Just the facts.

"Here's the deal, Gina. The medallion was warm when you touched it because you're an Amazon. Probably an Amazon Warrior, considering your profession."

She looked at me as though I'd just rocketed in from a far away galaxy. "I'm a what? An Amazon Warrior? You mean like a gang member?"

"Not exactly, no." I wished we'd had something a little stronger to drink, even if it was early in the morning. "Let me start at the beginning. I'll tell you about the dreams Kim had and how we came to find the lost tribe. I know it will sound crazy and totally bizarre, but it happened to us, and now I know you're one of us. It's a good thing. Really. At least, I hope it is."

"You'd better talk fast, PJ. I'm about two seconds away from giving you a sobriety test."

Two hours later, after refuting every argument and denial she tossed at me, I could see she was beginning to accept most of what I was telling her. She wasn't one hundred percent on board, but I was used to that. I had been the queen of the skeptics. Flashbacks of the ancient Amazon village in Greece popped into my head as we talked. I remembered my stubborn resistance to Queen Leeja's counseling. It would most likely take a visit from Gina's personal spirit guide to convince her.

We finished our breakfast and parted on good terms. Gina reminded me that her offer for me to call if I needed further help with anything didn't have an expiration date. I could only hope that having another of our sisters close at hand would somehow help Kim through the awful time she was experiencing.

*   *   *

I slept fitfully, only to be awakened by the unpleasant thoughts that kept intruding. Why couldn't the corpse powder have been the real thing? Why couldn't it have spilled before Terry sent PJ the message? If the powder had taken both Terry and me, it would've been so much easier. And there'd be a lot less heartbreak.

You'd never have known, PJ, and now I wonder if you'll ever forgive me for what I have to do.

Chapter 26

The ranch looked the same when I returned. It was cozy and inviting. Just like home should always be. Pup greeted me with unbounded enthusiasm. Jackie and Cleo purred loudly when I reached over to pet them as they tried to rub against my legs.

On the surface, things appeared the same. PJ was the same gorgeous, loving woman she'd always been. Pup was the same loyal friend, and the kitties, though growing, were the same mischievous creatures who'd brought so much joy into our lives. Jasper and Little Bird had greeted me with a delicious pre-prepared meal. Our valley was as beautiful and unchanged as it had ever been, at least as far as I could see. The mountains appeared unaltered, though, in fact, they were ever-evolving and enduring. So nothing had really changed.

Except me.

PJ fussed over me like a mama bear with a sick cub. "Lean on me," she'd said, as she helped me from the Rover into my wheelchair. Then, refusing Jasper's assistance, she pushed me up the newly installed ramp and into the house. Once inside, she again refused help to settle me into my comfortable recliner. She made sure I had everything I needed and that it was close by.

I felt her soft hand against my cheek. "Would you like some tea?"

"Okay, yes. That's fine."

Was I the only one who realized the truth? I was an invalid now, totally dependent on her and others for my needs. The doctors said I'd make a complete recovery in time, but how long would that be? Months, they said, but did they know for sure, and would it be complete? I'd dreaded this scenario for a long time, and it was the reason I always feared the difference in our ages.

Ironically, Terry had caused my current situation, not age. Even though I killed her, she'd still won. She'd instigated the beginning of the end for PJ and me, leaving me with blood on my hands. PJ thought Terry might've wanted to end her pain and suffering but lacked the courage to commit suicide, so she'd forced me to take her life. If Terry had planned that, she'd succeeded, but I'd never know.

One thing I did know. PJ and I would never be the same again.

*   *   *

Detective Nelson stepped into the living room and looked around. He'd brought me the last of our stolen property and I eagerly took the painting from his hands.

"I'm glad to see you're looking better," he said. "And Ms. Blair's improving, too, I hope."

"Thank you for asking." I removed the protective paper covering from the artwork, not looking at him as I spoke. "She's progressing slowly. She was barely alive when we got her out of that kiva, and she nearly died before they stopped her internal bleeding, so a gradual recovery is to be expected."

I turned to him when I'd finished replacing the painting in its spot on the wall. "Sorry. I'm forgetting my manners. Would you like to sit down? Can I get you some iced tea or a soda? We have plenty of root beer."

He perched on the end of a leather chair. "I guess the root beer would be good, if it's not too much trouble."

I started toward the kitchen, but turned back. "Did you need to speak with Kim, too? She's sleeping, but I could wake her."

"No, that won't be necessary. It's more important that she rest. To be honest, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh. Okay then, I'll just be a minute." When I returned, he was standing and staring at the painting I'd just replaced on the wall.

He took his beverage and gulped about half of it. "I'm glad you got your stolen items back."

"I am too. Especially that."

"It's Pedernal, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes. The mountain's a very familiar landmark in these parts."

"But, it isn't just that. I think I've seen that painting before."

We walked over to the sofa and recliners that made a half-circle in front of the fireplace. I sat on the sofa, easing my sore back against a cushion, and he managed to sit on Kim's favorite recliner without actually reclining it. A headache was about to require medication, but I resolved to be as civil as possible. "You probably have," I said, glancing up at the picture. "It's an O'Keeffe."

"Of course, I'm quite familiar with her work. I should have known. The museum has lots of her pictures and the galleries in Santa Fe are loaded with prints. I must have seen it there."

"You may have seen the prints, but you wouldn't have seen that painting in the museum."

"No?"

"It's an original."

"No shit? An original Georgia O'Keeffe?"

"Uh-huh. It belonged to my mother. I inherited it when she died."

"Oh. I'm sorry for your loss."

"It was a long time ago." I rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the throbbing.

"I guess that explains all the zeroes in the stolen property report on that item. I thought it was a typo."

"The last time it was appraised, I believe its value was two hundred thousand dollars."

"Amazing." Nelson drained his glass and set it on the table next to him, wiping his hands on his pant legs.

"I don't mean to be rude," I said, "but it's been a long day, and I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about paintings."

"You're right." He cleared his throat. "Now that your... urn..."

"I believe 'partner' is the word you're fishing for."

"Yes. Now that your partner is safely home and on the mend, I want to explain why I behaved the way I did."

"That's really not necessary, Detective. I know you don't approve of the way Kim and I live our lives and that it makes you uncomfortable."

"True. But there's more to it than that. When Gina and I first caught this case, I was going through a pretty bad time in my personal life."

"It wasn't such a great time in my life either."

His hands came up in a gesture of surrender. "You're right. I'm sorry. This is coming out all wrong."

I shook my head and tugged on a strand of hair behind my ear. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm tired and overly defensive. You have something to say, and I keep giving you a hard time. Go ahead. Call us deviants, pronounce us doomed for eternity, and be on your way."

"That wasn't my plan." He stood up and paced behind the chair. His usual confidence was absent, replaced by uncertainty.

I felt like a bully. Hadn't I merely voiced his feelings about us?

"For the past three months, I've been trying to get over a messy divorce. The decree was final, but the memory will haunt me for a long time."

"I see. That seems to be a problem with police marriages. I've heard a lot of them end in divorce because of the long hours and stress."

"My marriage may have suffered from those things, but infidelity caused the breakup." He stood at the back of Kim's recliner, keeping it between us, and now he gripped the top as if to support himself. "Diane, my ex-wife, found another person to love. A woman. I just didn't know how to handle that."

Neither did I, so I kept silent.

"I was getting used to being single again, when we got this case. The first time I saw you, I thought you were so hot."

"Me?" I guess my shocked expression was so evident that he needed to elaborate.

"The blonde hair, the foxy body. You're one good-looking woman. I knew you were rich, single, and I thought you were available. It wasn't hard to be attracted to you."

"Then you discovered I was one of them." I gave him a brief smile.

"Yeah, and that was something I couldn't deal with." He looked down and brushed his fingertips along the top of the chair. "I was embarrassed to have felt anything toward you, and it brought back the whole painful thing with Diane."

I stood and moved closer to him. Why did he feel the need to share all this with me? I liked him better as a surly creep. He was more sympathetic now. Human even.

"Detective Nelson—"

He raised his head, looking directly at me. "Please, call me Mark, okay? Now that I've dumped the whole story of my miserable life on you."

"All right, Mark. Then you call me PJ. It's what my friends call me, and I suddenly find you very human, if not completely likable."

We shook hands as if we were starting fresh.

"Gina said I'd feel better if I explained why I was such an ass. I do." His grin made him look almost boyish. "I guess I'll never understand why you... uh.... But maybe I'll be less critical in the future. Before the Diane thing, I never thought much one way or another about being straight or gay. It was live and let live, you know. Maybe now I can get back to that, and this case can end on a positive note."

"That would be a good start."

"Right." He checked his watch. "I'd better get going."

I walked him to the door. "Good-bye, Mark." We shook hands again. "Please don't take this personally, but I hope I never need to see you or Gina again on a professional level."

He got my attempt at humor. "I understand. And I hope I don't see you or Ms. Blair in that capacity, either. Take care of yourself, PJ."

"You, too." I closed the door and leaned my head against it.

Foxy body, huh? Sometimes life can be so damn weird.

Chapter 27

Three weeks had passed. My strength returned gradually, though I still tired easily and, for the most part, I was confined to the wheelchair while my body healed. PJ must have been exhausted, but she wouldn't admit it. Whenever I awakened after sleeping fitfully, she'd be there beside me, asking if I needed anything or if she could do anything for me. I knew she was tiring herself out and that bothered me. For the first week or so after coming home from the hospital, I had to have assistance just to walk to the bathroom. I needed someone to be there with me when I showered.

"I can see you're making the most of this," PJ said one day, stepping into the shower with me.

"If you think I'm enjoying this, then you should walk in my shoes." My tone was deliberately nasty, and I knew the time had come to act on my plan.

Her eyes registered the shock of my rebuke. "Sorry, I just meant—"

"I know what you meant. Now leave me alone before you smother me completely."

She had placed her hand on my arm, but I shook it off. "Send Little Bird in to help me get dressed. It's sickening, the way you fawn over me."

"I only want to help."

"I don't need that. I don't need you." My gut wrenched when I saw the hurt in her eyes. She raised her hands in resignation, gathered her clothing, and walked away from me.

I had to do this. I knew now what it was like to be an invalid, and though I'd probably recover from my present injuries, it was a view into the future. What would happen when I reached my seventies or eighties? PJ would be in her fifties or sixties, still an active woman with many years ahead of her. I didn't want her to be a nursemaid for an old has-been archaeologist, and a killer to boot. She deserved better.

*   *   *

I paced across the guest room floor. It was the room Dad and Sue used while they stayed with me at the ranch. When Kim came home, they returned to Boston before heading back to Lesvos, and I never expected to need this room again for any purpose. Right now, it seemed like a good place to cool off. I had to regroup and calm myself before I lost my temper. Caring for Kim wasn't easy. I could see that she hated being hurt and being dependent, but sometimes I bore the brunt of her frustration and that hurt me. A lot.

I sat on the bed, thinking. I didn't blame Kim. I knew it was all Terry's fault. She'd tortured Kim, filled her mind with all sorts of verbal abuse, and threatened to kill us both. She'd ultimately forced Kim to fire the gun. Terry was the reason Kim was so upset and speaking so irrationally. I had be patient enough to hold us together until Kim's body and mind healed. It wouldn't be easy, but I had to do it, for both of us.

The wounds on my neck had formed small rough scabs. I picked at one while I sat thinking. The sadistic collar had been so cruel and inhumane. I'd probably have permanent reminders on my back and neck from the frightening events in the kiva. Kim had an incision across her abdomen that she'd have to live with when it healed, but the physical scars were the least of my worries. "Damn you, Terry Simms. I hope you burn in hell for what you've done to us."

I took my flute to the back porch and sat cross-legged on the swing, my back against a soft, fluffy pillow. When Kim had been moved to a private room in the hospital and was feeling stronger, she'd asked Little Bird and Jasper to get the flute out of the desk drawer and bring it to her without my knowledge.

That night, when I came to visit, she had all the lights turned off in her room. The box was on a tray on her lap with the card, a cupcake with one lighted candle, and two plastic cups filled with apple juice.

I took one look and started to cry.

"I know you already found this, and I wish the juice could be champagne or at least beer, but belated Happy Birthday."

Smiling through my tears, I blew out the candle, moved the whole tray to a chair and crawled into bed with her. "Thank you, honey. It's perfect."

And I kissed her until she was breathless, which sadly, due to her condition, didn't take long.

While she continued her recovery, I'd practiced, first with lessons from the Pueblo teachers and then on my own. I could play two tunes completely and bits of three others. All five were sad love songs, however.

Now I picked the most cheerful of the lot and started playing, remembering to control my breathing and hold each note fully before beginning the next.

For a while the music calmed me, taking all my powers of concentration to focus on my technique. Then, as I continued, the hauntingly clear sounds pierced my emotional resolve, and the sorrowful refrain penetrated to the depths of my soul. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I tried several times to keep going, but each time my throat tightened and the sadness of our predicament overwhelmed me. Defeated, I dropped the flute, buried my head in my arms, and cried.

I'd been cruel, but I had to be. There was no kind way to push PJ away. It was for her own good, but when I saw the pain in her eyes, it was like a dagger in my heart. How could I do this to the woman I love? Was I no better than Terry? I got up from my chair, closed the blinds, darkening the room to fit my gloomy mood, and lay down on the bed.

I dozed, but was awakened by a soft melancholy sound. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and listened before easing myself upright and cracking the blind. PJ was sitting on the swing, playing the flute I had given her for her birthday. Well, I hadn't really given it to her then. We were both in the hospital on her birthday. I'd made up for it though. She'd been so surprised and I'd loved seeing the joy on her face when I finally gave her the flute. She'd wanted one, and I'd taken great satisfaction in having it made especially for her. I think she'd gained some measure of solace in learning to play it.

The music stopped and restarted. She tried three times, but couldn't finish. I saw her lay the flute down and bury her head in her arms. It tore me apart to see her weeping like that, but as much as I wanted to go to her, I couldn't. I dared not lose my resolve to free her of me, and the sooner the better.

PJ was hurting, but she was young and would get over it. Better she suffer a little now than spend the rest of her life tied down with an invalid and a murderer who would bring her nothing but heartache.

I closed the blinds once more and lay back on the bed, crying until there were no more tears to shed.

*   *   *

"Does the sun feel good?" PJ asked as she joined me on the verandah. I hadn't been out of my room in two days and she went overboard with her smiles and perky attitude.

I nodded, not looking at her.

"You need to get some color back in your cheeks."

"Whatever."

"Hey, I know. Let's take the Rover and drive up to our favorite picnic spot. I think it would do us both some good. I'll fix roast beef sandwiches with that relish you like."

"You go. I prefer to be alone."

She stopped smiling and took a long shaky breath. "I know this thing about Terry rocked you, but you've got to realize that it wasn't your fault. You had no choice. It was kill or be killed. You saved our lives."

"You didn't pull the trigger."

"I know that."

"That's not what's bothering me now. You are."

PJ flinched. "What?"

The shock in her voice nearly broke through my resolve, but I used my pent up frustration and anger to keep going. "Why don't you just leave me alone? I don't need you to take care of me. And while we're on the subject, I'd like you to move into the other bedroom."

Her eyes widened. "Isn't that a little drastic? I know you haven't felt up to being intimate with me lately, but after what you've been through—"

"Fucking you, or not fucking you, isn't the point."

All the color drained from her face. She reacted as if I'd slapped her.

Speaking to her like this was agony for me, but it was necessary. It was now or never. "I've changed my mind. I want you out of here. Understand? Not just out of my bedroom, but off this ranch, and out of my life."

"What are you saying?"

"I thought I made it very clear."

Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. "I thought that now, more than ever, you needed me to take care of you."

"Well, I don't."

Her chest heaved. "And I love you. I can't just flip a switch and turn that off."

"I can live without love, and Little Bird and Jasper are here for whatever care I may need."

PJ stared at me for several seconds, absorbing what I'd said. Her eyes narrowed and her face flushed. "If that's what you really want. I certainly don't want to stay with someone who takes our love and trashes it at the first sign of trouble." She looked away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her checkered shirt. "Funny. I thought what we had together was stronger than that." Her lower lip trembled. "Jesus, did you ever fool me."

She turned and ran into the house, slamming the screen door behind her. I fought back tears and the urge to go after her.

I didn't dare move and risk encountering PJ inside, so I remained on the verandah. In a short time, she emerged with a suitcase, a duffle, and her laptop. "I'm taking these," she said, looking anywhere but at me. "I'll come back later for the rest of my stuff. And as soon as I'm settled, I'll pick up Jackie and Cleo. I can't depend on your loving the kitties forever, or even Pup for that matter. So, if you decide to give up on his love, I'll take him, too."

Chapter 28

"Priscilla, honey, what's wrong? You've talked about the weather, the museum opening, and Sandy's wedding date, but I haven't heard you mention Kim or the ranch, or those animals of yours. What's up?"

I gripped the receiver and leaned back against the motel's imitation wood headboard, picturing Dad's expression when I delivered the news. "You're right, something's very wrong." My voice cracked and I swallowed rapidly to force out the words. "Kim kicked me out."

"What! You're kidding. That's impossible. Wait a minute. Let me get Sue on the line."

I chewed on my lower lip and dabbed the comers of my eyes.

"Hi, sweetie, what's going on?"

"I was just telling Dad that Kim has decided I don't belong in her life any more."

There was a long pause. "Oh, I see."

"You don't sound very shocked. Am I the last one to know about this?"

"No, no, nothing like that." She flipped into therapist mode. "It's just that when two people, even two who have a deep and lasting love, share a trauma like you have, repercussions can result, some of them bad, even life-changing. I tried to counsel Kim when she was in the hospital, but she tuned me out. At the time, I blamed her incoherent ramblings on the pain medications."

"I know what you mean. Since she came home from the hospital, she's often acted like a total stranger with me. I tried to be patient because I knew she was injured, but she told me in no uncertain terms to get out. I had no choice but to pack my bags. I'm really worried. I don't know what's going on with her."

"Do you want us to come back to New Mexico, princess? I'm sure Sandy can handle the business end of the Lesvos project for a while." My father had been silent while Sue and I were talking, but he'd quickly shifted into fix-the-problem mode.

"Thanks, Dad, but you and Sue have already lost so much time by staying with me while Kim was missing. I think you should go ahead with your plans. Sandy needs your business acumen. And the opening of the museum is set to coincide with their wedding. Kim and I planned to attend, and I hope we still can—separately, if not together. It's going to be hard for both of us now. I worry about her being on her own so much. I'm thinking of asking a friend for some help. Until I'm sure Kim is going to be okay, I really don't want to leave the area."

"That sounds like a good idea." I could tell my stepmother was still in her professional persona. "It's important that she not be left alone with her thoughts, even if she tells you she prefers it. In the meantime, let me see what I can line up for you both in the way of professional counseling right there in Santa Fe."

"I'd appreciate that, and I'll do my best. You and Dad have a safe trip back to Lesvos. Give our love to Sandy and Irini. I imagine she's locked into the wedding countdown by now. I'll call you in a day or two and let you know where I'm staying. In the meantime I have my cell phone and my laptop. I'll be reachable."

After we'd said our good-byes, I tuned the clock radio to KBOM-FM for some background music and kicked off my sandals. When the dull throbbing in my head increased to a constant ache, I padded into the bathroom for some painkillers.

"Got any plans to cap off this bitch of a day?" I asked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My stomach growled in response. "Crap. I knew there was something I forgot to do." I remembered seeing a local deli's menu among the phone book, notepaper, and Bible in the bedside table drawer. Taking advantage of the free delivery promised within a three mile radius, I ordered a grilled chicken wrap, fruit salad, and a large iced tea. Then, I pulled back the bedcovers and slipped the blanket over my legs.

"Oh, shit." Some sickly sweet love song came on the radio. I clicked it off, wishing I could control the pain in my heart as easily.

*   *   *

What do I do now? Should I really burden Gina with my troubles again? Her business card was in my wallet. The last time we had talked was over breakfast when I'd told her my suspicions about her being an Amazon warrior. I don't think she completely believed that the fact she sensed the heat of the medallions identified her as a sister Amazon. With luck, her spirit guide would show up sooner rather than later to clinch the deal. I'd done my part by telling her what I'd learned from my experiences, and maybe by telling her that I'd doubted it for a long time would help her see it was okay to question the whole Amazon concept. In time, though, the doubts would dissipate. Amazons don't take no for an answer.

I didn't expect her to change her normal routine as a law enforcement officer. I wouldn't want her to, but it'd be nice to have her as a friend now that Kim preferred to wallow in her own solitary and depressing world.

I turned her business card over in my hand a time or two. Gina had said to stay in touch, that she'd probably have more questions about the Amazon mumbo-jumbo, as she called it. She'd reminded me to call if I had any problems. I never expected to have problems of this kind, but I sure could use a friendly voice about now. Before I lost my nerve, I picked up the phone.

"Gina? It's PJ Curtis."

"Hey lady. I've been thinking of calling you and Kim. How's it going?"

"Not well, Gina, not well at all. We've split up."

"Oh, no, not you two. I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. It's a bitch, to say the least."

"So, where are you? Did you go back east?"

"No, I'm still here in Santa Fe. I'm staying in a motel. It all happened so suddenly."

"Hey, if you need a place to stay, we have a cottage on the property. It's one of those mother-in-law types. We usually rent it out to students, but it's vacant now. You're welcome to stay there. It's nothing elegant, but it's more comfortable than a motel."

"Oh, no. I couldn't impose on you like that. I just wanted to hear a friendly voice and maybe get some advice."

"You've got that regardless. And, seriously, we'd love to have you stay for as long as you need to. If it makes you feel better, you can pay something to cover the utilities, but you really don't have to. And the advice will be free of charge."

"That's a very tempting offer."

"You'd be doing me a favor. The boys are at summer camp. I'm working days, and Mike is away at a seminar in Phoenix until Sunday, so there's just me and Rosco rattling around this place in the evenings."

"Rosco?"

"Our four-legged, food-guzzling, mangy mongrel. He's totally spoiled and worthless as a watchdog, but the kids love him."

"He sounds darling, but I planned to get the cats as soon as I was settled. Maybe that wouldn't work."

"They're indoor cats, right?"

"Yes."

"No problem then. They can stay with you in the cottage. I'll make sure that Rosco's either in the house or in the fenced yard."

I took a deep breath. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy. And it's all settled. Just pick up a pen and paper and let me give you directions."

We decided I'd arrive at noon the next day. Gina would take an extra hour at lunch to help get me settled. My headache started to ease just about the time my dinner arrived. I put in a call to Little Bird and Jasper, asking them to keep an eye on Kim for me. They were upset to learn why I was asking, but I assured them I'd remain in the area, and I'd find a way to break down the wall Kim had erected between us. We had the perfect relationship. One life, the shaman or Holy Girl had called it. Kim had taken our precious one life and blasted it apart.

I didn't dare dwell on the subject too long or the pain would wipe me out. I picked up the television remote and turned on the news, resolving to focus on someone else's misery for a while. Not too much was happening in our little corner of the world. The area was unseasonably dry and heading toward a full-fledged drought. A couple of DUI induced car accidents, and a bank robbery that an alert citizen thwarted made the headlines. All in all, there weren't too many problems here in Santa Fe.

Only the end of a beautiful relationship.

But if I had anything to say about it, the problem was only temporary.

Chapter 29

Day after day I paced through the rooms at the ranch. The realization of what I'd done lay heavily on my mind, creating a mountain of guilt and sorrow. I hadn't powered up the computer or opened a book. How could I, feeling the way I did? How could I appreciate the beauty above me, in front of me, behind me, and below me? And no amount of Little Bird's Navajo coaxing could make me.

Little Bird had told me that PJ wasn't far away, but it was several weeks before she drove up to the back door of the ranch in a rented van.

"I've come to pack up my things," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"I see that." As quickly as I could, I sought refuge in the study, and later, when she came into that room, I tried to get out of her way.

"I've left some boxes in the barn. I've asked Jasper to pack up my books, and I'll let him know as soon as I know what to do with them."

I nodded, fighting the longing to take her into my arms and beg forgiveness.

"I've arranged for some temporary housing."

"Okay."

She stared at me as if unsure whether to continue. "And I packed up Cleo and Jackie. They're in the van, but they're not happy about it."

That makes three of us, then.

"Having them with me will ease my mind. You need time to get better and now Little Bird will have to take care of you."

"I'll manage."

She chewed her lip. "You'll have Pup to keep you company. But, if he becomes too much work for you, I'll come get him, too."

"We'll be fine."

"Okay, but in the event you need to contact me, use my cell phone number, or call Gina Esperanza. I'm staying in the cottage on their property."

"You should go back to Boston."

"I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do, but I want to stay around here. I haven't given up on us just yet."

A heavy blanket of silence enveloped us.

PJ looked beyond me to my desk. "Do you still want that picture of me?"

I stared at the photo, unable to tell her that I wanted it, that I hoped she would leave it so I would have her image to warm my dark and empty soul. The words clogged my throat.

"Maybe I'll leave it here a little longer."

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral to cover my relief.

I was seized with the urge to make myself scarce, and I turned to leave.

"Kim." Her voice was softer, more tentative now.

"Yes?" I forced myself to look into her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Mine probably looked just as bad.

"Whatever I did... I'm sorry."

I turned away abruptly, found my cane, and stumbled out the back door. Pup trotted along beside me.

"Oh, PJ, I can't take this. I've got to get out of here, or I'll lose my nerve."

Pup and I climbed a hillside and sat where some brush concealed us. He whined, looked at me, and made a restless move toward the house. "Okay, fella. Go say good-bye." I watched him make a beeline for the back door. I could hear him barking until PJ came out and kneeled to hug him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"PJ!" I dropped my cane and started running down the hill. "Wait!" Still unsteady, I fell headlong, skinning my hands and scratching my right cheek. I was too late. By the time I got to my feet, she'd started the van and was pulling away. I sat down again and wiped my bleeding hands on my shirt. I no longer cared about what happened to me or my clothing.

Pup lay on the verandah, nose on his front paws, staring at the road as he often had when one of us was away, patiently waiting to greet us when we returned. He seemed aware that this time was different, that PJ had gone and wasn't coming back. She was no longer a part of his life, our lives. I half-walked, half-crawled the rest of the way to his side. When I bent to pet his wise old head, he remained motionless. He wasn't that old, but he seemed to possess the wisdom of the ages. "You're going to miss her, aren't you, boy?"

He regarded me sorrowfully, his eyes rolling upward.

"So will I, buddy. So will I."

PJ had taken her clothes, her Georgia O'Keeffe painting, her CD player, and her collection of music. She left no word to say how we should dispose of the furniture and other household items we'd purchased together.

When I entered the study, I was struck with the finality of the situation. Her PC was gone and her desk was empty and a Post-It note was stuck where the oak-framed picture of me had been:

I'd like to keep your picture with me. Love, PJ... the cockeyed optimist.

I smiled at that.

*   *   *

I was totally alone. Little Bird and Jasper had left for a three day excursion to visit her family and attend some kind of Navajo festival. They'd hesitated, but I assured them I'd manage.

I went to the kitchen and put food and water in Pup's bowls. I thought about making coffee or a cup of tea before working on my computer. The chapter for Glenna was finished. All of the manuscript was at her editor's now and her wrist was much improved.

No deadlines. No lectures. No hunger or thirst. No reason to be up and walking around. I found my pain medication, downed a few capsules with a cup of water and returned to the bedroom.

Feeling tired and a little dizzy, I peeled back the bedcovers and crawled in.

When I next opened my eyes, it was broad daylight and Pup was staring at me. I had no idea how long I'd slept or what day it was. He licked my face.

"Hey, cut that out."

His response was a plaintive whine. "You can go outside by yourself. Go on."

He started to the door and then came back and sat watching me.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Okay, I'll get up. Hang on."

I was still fully clothed and needed to pee and shower, but I walked with Pup to the kitchen and put more food and water in his dishes. A feeling of deja vu washed over me.

My dizziness had stopped and I actually felt hungry. I watched Pup gobble his chow and take a long drink.

When I checked my watch, the little date window indicated I had been out of it for a full day. How had that happened? I shuffled into the bathroom and reeled at the sight of my image in the mirror. I felt better after showering and washing and brushing my hair. Dressed in clean clothing, I wandered back to the kitchen. Pup was not there. He'd probably used the doggie door to go outside.

My gaze landed on Jackie and Cleo's empty dishes. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks as I remembered where they were and why. PJ believed I was incapable of loving them and even doubted my capacity to love and care for Pup. I guess she was justified. She probably figured my love for her had been nothing but a passing fling. How wrong she was.

I'd done what I set out to do. I'd pushed her out of my life. What a pathetic human specimen I'd become in the process. In my heart, I still believed it was the right thing to do for her, but why then did it hurt so much?

*   *   *

Day by day, my strength returned. I took long, lonely walks with Pup, sometimes in the valley, but more often in the foothills and the mountains. One day, I packed a lunch and drove to our favorite picnic spot. Once there, I lay on the ground and cried.

Oh, PJ, it's so beautiful up here, but I can't begin to appreciate it with you gone from my life. There's no color for me anymore. It's as if I live in a monochromatic world now. The pine trees and flowers have no scent. There's no music in the wind, no sunshine, no moonlight. Having you in my life made everything bright and sunny. You said something about one life when I was in the hospital and I didn't really understand what you meant. I do now. You and I together... we made one life, but not anymore.

I don't know what to do. If I admitted I was a fool, could you forgive me? Do you still love me?

Forever and always, we used to say.

What have I done to us, PJ?

About the Authors

K.C. West and Victoria Welsh met online several years ago. Despite living practically on opposite coasts of the United States, they found plenty of common ground in their interest in writing. K.C. lives in the east with her husband and two daughters. Victoria, a poet and writer, resides with her life partner in the southwestern United States.

The authors are hard at work on the next and final book in the Shadows series, but they'd love to hear from you.