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  “Yes, Ma’am, thanks. I take it black.”

  She nodded, and in a minute she’d brought over a pair of mugs. She set them down facing each other on the coffee table. She nudged her head to her husband and he reluctantly went to sit before one. She eased down at his side.

  Logan took his own seat opposite the couple.

  Logan could see the mother more clearly now. She had the same warm, brown eyes as her daughter, although they seemed dulled with time and perhaps life. And yet they seemed familiar …

  She gave a soft smile. “You’re Sheriff Cartright’s son, aren’t you.”

  He automatically nodded. “My dad retired five years ago,” he pointed out. “Mahoney’s the sheriff now. Does a good job.”

  She held his gaze. “Your father saved my life. You probably don’t remember – you were young.”

  Suddenly, he did remember.

  A dense snowstorm. His dad was driving them back from Uncle Joe’s and the weather was so thick you could barely see your hand before your face. They’d been listening to Hank Rogers songs on the radio, their eyes glued on the road ahead, making sure they didn’t veer off and down the embankment.

  And then up out of the blizzard had come a coat of crimson –

  He shook himself, looking at the woman before him with fresh eyes. “Tibah. Tibah Whiteflower.”

  Mike growled. “She’s Tibah Brown now.”

  “Of course,” replied Logan, his mind coming back to the present. “I wanted to check on Johona.”

  Mike’s mouth opened to protest –

  Tibah called out, “Johona? Can you come out here, please? The police want to follow up on what happened last night.”

  There was movement down the side hallway, and Logan turned his head.

  He was on his feet in seconds, moving to her side. Her head had a stripe of bandage around it and her face was swollen with bruising. One eye was nearly shut. She leaned on the wall as she walked, and he gave her his arm to help her over to the couch. As she sat, her mother went to the kitchen to fetch Johona’s mug of coffee. She seemed to take it black.

  Johona’s voice was thick but strong. “What do you want to know?”

  Mike’s brows came together. “Johona, you don’t have to tell this man anything.”

  She ignored him. She turned to Logan. “I want to help. You promised me you would find who did this to me. To bring them to justice.”

  Mike snorted with derision.

  Logan held her gaze. “I did promise that. And I stand by that promise. We’ll figure out who was involved and make sure each one pays.”

  Mike muttered, “Yeah, unless their skin is white.”

  Logan replied, “It doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like. If they’re guilty, they’ll get their due.”

  Mike crossed his arms but remained silent.

  Logan gentled his voice and looked to Johona. “I know this will be difficult, but any tiny detail you can recall will be a help. What do you remember from last night?”

  Johona twined her fingers together. “I went to the big Christmas Dance over at the meeting hall in town. They have one every year, sort of a mixer between the rez kids and the townies. It was fun – all my friends were there. I even danced once with Billy Blackwater.” Her gaze took on a wistful shine.

  Logan nodded. “Did anybody seem out of place there? Did anybody bother you?”

  She shook her head. “No, it was just everyone from our school and theirs. My friends were all in a good mood. We were talking about going sledding tomorrow. Well, today, I mean. And we talked a lot about Christmas, of course. What we’d get. Who we’d go visit.”

  He nodded again, letting her take her time.

  Her fingers wound more tightly. “It got to be late, and people started leaving. Billy offered to walk me home, but his brother called – one of the horses had caught himself on a fence. I told Billy I’d be fine on my own. I’ve walked that route a thousand times. And, besides, it was Christmas.”

  She gave a soft sob.

  Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You just take a deep breath.”

  Johona did. “I … I went by the general store. It was all dark there, of course. And the hardware store. And then I went around the Dancing Bear like I always do, to cut the corner and get to the main road. I had this odd sensation. Like someone was watching me. So I hurried up a bit, to get back out to the main road. And then … he grabbed me.”

  Logan leaned forward. “Who grabbed you, Johona.”

  She shook her head, tears cascading down her cheeks. “I don’t know. There were just hands – and boots – and they were grabbing at me. Laughing. Grunting. I screamed for help, and one of them hit me on the head. Everything went fuzzy. And they kept grabbing – and pressing – and hurting –”

  She folded over on herself, the sobs shaking out of her now.

  The door burst open and a young Arapaho man with long, dark hair, perhaps sixteen, whirled into the room. His eyes were wide in shock. “Where’s Johona! What did they do to her?”

  Mike rose to his feet. “Billy, I want you –”

  Billy saw Johona and flung himself at her, drawing her up into his arms. She collapsed against him, sobbing as if her heart would break. He held her tight against him, his face creased with anguish.

  Tibah gently stroked her daughter’s hair. She looked to Billy. “You go take her back to her room. Help her to quiet down.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Brown.” He supported Johona as the two moved back down the hallway.

  Tibah turned back to Logan. “I think you’ll have to come back tomorrow to talk to Johona. I’ll call the hospital and make sure you have full access to her records.”

  Mike’s hands clenched. “Woman, I don’t want you to –”

  She turned and stared at him.

  There was something in her gaze that made Mike sit back down into his seat. That made him pick up his mug and focus his attention on the fire flickering in the stove.

  Tibah’s gaze returned to Logan. “Thank you for your efforts, Logan. If we think of anything in the meantime, we’ll call you. And if you see your father, be sure to say hello to him for us. Hello – and thank you.”

  Logan rose to his feet and touched his hat. “Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry again for this tragedy. I’ll do everything in my power to set it right.”

  From the look in her eyes, he had the sense that she felt nothing would ever be quite right again.

  Chapter Four

  Haloke’s jeep bounced along the dawn-lit road at a speed somewhere just between barely-safe and reckless. She had managed, thanks to her years of training and discipline, to put Johona out of her mind for the long hours of her night mission. To do otherwise would have risked her own life and those of the brave soldiers who depended on her.

  But now the task was through, and she only had one thing on her mind.

  To get back to her base, to her phone, and to warn her younger sister.

  The jeep jumped and skipped as it ran head-long into small rocks and ruts, but Haloke had dealt with far worse on the rez and barely gave them heed.

  The dream had been so vivid. So clear.

  She could almost reach out and touch the faces of the four men who might soon brutally assault her sweet little Johona. The details were embedded in her brain.

  The one with straight, chiseled looks which would have made an actor proud. With blond hair cut short.

  The one who was darker, crueler, with thick brows and a scar twisting along one cheek.

  The one who was wiry, sinewy, with long, auburn hair that reached his shoulders and pinpoint eyes.

  The one who was heavy, half-way between muscle and fat, with greasy hair caught back in a short bun.

  Haloke pressed harder on the gas. It had to be that this was solely a vision of things to come. If she could just make it to base and warn her sister, none of this would come to pass. She would take a leave of absence. Be by her family’s side. Make sure that this dark
future never materialized.

  For if anything ever happened to her precious Johona, her sweet, innocent, darling –

  Something was standing before her on the road.

  It looked like a young Afghan child, swathed in robes.

  Haloke screamed. She slammed her foot on the brake and twisted hard at the steering wheel, desperate to avoid –

  The car tumbled, careened, and rolled.

  It plowed straight into the object.

  The world exploded.

  Chapter Five

  Johona screamed – screamed – screamed –

  Footsteps raced down the hallway, and her mother came tumbling into her room, reaching for her half-blindly in the shade-drawn darkness. Her mother’s comforting warmth came up around her – her familiar smell caressed her and brought some ease.

  Her mother murmured, “I’m here, I’m here, sweetheart. It’s all right. It was just a dream.”

  Her father stumbled into the doorway. “God Almighty. Enough with the screeching.” He rubbed at his brow. “Did you at least remember their faces in this dream?”

  Johona shook her head, her cheeks wet with the tears. She turned to her mother. “I wasn’t dreaming about my attack. I was dreaming about Haloke.”

  Her father waved a hand in dismissal and made his way, grumbling, back to the living room.

  Her mother smoothed Johona’s hair down with a palm and helped her sit up. Tibah sat down on the edge of the bed and drew up Johona’s hand in her own. “Dreams can hold a myriad of meanings,” she encouraged her daughter. “It is important to examine them. Tell me about yours.”

  Johona drew in a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of panic which still lurked at her edges. “Everything had a misty glow to it. I think it might have been near dawn. The sky was high and rippled in shades of lavender and soft blue. There was sand everywhere, and high hills, too, all of sand and rock.”

  Her mother nodded. “It sounds like the pictures Haloke has sent to us. Go on.”

  Johona huddled in on herself. “Haloke was driving really fast. Too fast. It was like someone was chasing her, but there was nobody else on the road. It was just her and a tail of dust a mile long. Her hands were clenched on the steering wheel as if her whole life depended on this race.”

  Her mother’s brow drew together. “Did she seem hurt at all?”

  Johona shook her head. “Not that I could see.”

  Her throat closed up. “But suddenly, there was something there on the road before her. I hadn’t seen it until then. It looked like a young child. And it just stood there. It didn’t move.”

  Her mother’s face paled. “Johona, what happened next? Did your sister run over this child?”

  Johona’s shoulders began quivering. “She saw it. She tried to stop. The car’s brakes spun in the sand. The wheels turned – it must have been in desperation. Because she was going way too fast. The car tumbled … it flipped …”

  Her mother’s mouth was open. “She crashed?”

  Johona shook her head, the tears flowing anew.

  “No, Momma. She exploded.”

  Chapter Six

  Logan strode into the reception area of the health clinic. The waiting room was clean, smelled of Lysol, and even at this late hour was perhaps half-full with patients of various ages and shapes. He spotted Sam at the far wall talking to a doctor in a long, white jacket. The man was about sixty with graying hair.

  Sam nodded to Logan as he approached. “Logan, this is Dr. Paraman. He’s the one who took care of Johona.”

  Dr. Paraman’s gray eyes held quiet focus. “Thanks for waiting until I got off shift to talk. The family has given me permission to share what I have with you. But I’m afraid it’s not much.”

  Logan hitched his fingers into his belt. “Anything might help. Even the smallest detail.”

  Dr. Paraman nodded. “Johona was definitely sexually assaulted. The bruising shows that. And it’s clear there was more than one assailant. But the attackers must have used condoms. There are no fluids to test.”

  Logan’s brow creased. “What about DNA under her fingernails? Did she try to fight off her attackers?”

  Dr. Paraman shook his head. “Right after she was grabbed, she yelled for help. One of the men hit her on the head. She was in and out of consciousness after that – mostly out. They did what they were there to do and then fled the scene, leaving her much as you found her, I imagine.”

  Logan looked to Sam. “There’s got to be something. A hair. Heck, an eyelash.”

  Sam gave a low shrug. “We have some items we were able to gather from her clothing, but it’ll be hard to tell if they are from the attackers. She had spent the evening at a well-attended dance. Any hair or lash we find could be from any of the hundred people there.”

  “I want you to go talk to the organizers of the dance. Have them make lists of every person there. Talk to those people and get them to confirm names. The more complete we can make the attendee list, the more we’ll be able to rule people in and out as we get results.”

  Her gaze held doubt. “Logan, most of these kids won’t have DNA on file. And if we try to start DNA-swabbing every single kid on the rez, we might hit some resistance. You try that on the townies …”

  He nodded. “All right, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, just get the lists of names. It’s a place to start, at least.”

  Dr. Paraman looked from one officer to the other. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. If anything else comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  Logan shook his hand. “Thank you for your time.”

  The doctor headed back into the clinic’s depths, shrugging off his long white jacket. Sam turned to Logan. “All right, what will you be doing while I’m making lists and checking them twice?”

  His gaze shadowed. “I’ll return to the crime scene. There’s got to be something I missed. Something that leads us to whoever did this to Johona.”

  He shook his head. “That poor girl is never going to forget what they did to her. The least I can do is bring her some measure of satisfaction that the men aren’t still out there, enjoying their life without any punishment.”

  She clapped him on his shoulder. “Good luck. I think you’re going to need it.”

  He followed her out of the clinic and climbed into his SUV. A light snow danced its way onto his windshield, creating a light film which made the world mystical.

  He remembered sitting, just like this, twenty years ago, as the car shuddered to a sliding stop. When the snow cleared he could make out a girl in crimson who stood firm only scant inches from their hood. Her arms were outstretched. Her eyes were wide – and her face was set in fierce determination.

  Chapter Seven

  Ringing.

  Ringing.

  Haloke fumbled for the alarm clock, her eyes closed, but her hand slammed into twisted metal. She forced her eyes open and stared in confusion at the tumbled landscape around her. It resembled her jeep, but maybe in some surrealistic version where the windshield was made by spiders and the door by Picasso.

  She turned –

  A deep groan shook out of her at the pain in her side. Something was definitely not right there.

  She blinked harder, forcing her vision to clear. The jeep was lying on its passenger side and she was suspended at an angle by her seatbelt. Everything was bent and charred and broken.

  She wondered what she looked like.

  Memories flooded back in on her, and adrenaline coursed through her body. She reached to her holster and brought up the gun. Her fingers closed reassuringly around the grip. If whoever had set that explosive device was around to finish the job, she’d have at least fifteen chances to fend them off.

  She waited –

  Silence. Just the sound of the wind blowing through the remnants of her vehicle.

  Her men would come looking for her, but she couldn’t risk waiting for them. That device had been set by someone, and for all she kne
w she was now bait for a larger trap. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  She carefully swung her legs below her to wedge them in place against the passenger door. Then she pressed the button to release the belt.

  Nothing.

  Of course.

  She pulled her knife from her pocket and carefully sawed her way through the strap at her side. Even though she was braced, when the material finally let go she seared with agony as the weight of her body came down onto her legs. She shook off the waves of pain with practiced effort. Later she could deal with that. But not now. Not when every minute mattered.

  She tucked her knife away again and carefully used her boot to knock away the remaining pieces of windshield. When there was a clear space she crawled her way through it.

  Memories of deep snow … of frigid breath …

  She pushed them away. Not now. Not when her sister was in danger. Not when she had to warn Johona.

  Haloke staggered to her feet and looked around. The gun was a reassuring presence in her hand, but she knew she was no match for a determined squad of insurgents with rifles. As she hadn’t been shot yet, she’d count herself lucky and not give them more opportunity.

  She started out.

  The morning sun lifted up over the horizon, her throat ached with parched dryness, and every step shook fresh life into the stabbing pain in her side. She gave thought to stopping to examine her injury, but she pushed that aside. If she had broken a rib or ripped something there was little she could do about it on the road. And to stop was to invite death. She would just have to keep moving until she reached the base or collapsed.

  She wouldn’t allow the latter.

  It seemed as if the sun grew in size. As if the world grew brighter, blinding her. As if the objects before her receded with every step and that her legs grew as heavy as elephants. It took supreme effort just to lift the next foot –

  Her brow creased.

  What was that in front of her?

  It was Johona, small again, dressed in that favorite crimson coat of hers. Back in Wyoming she would wear it even in the blazing heat of summer. No wonder the silly girl was wearing it now in the dry desert of sand.

  Johona put a hand out to her. “It’s not far, Haloke! Come, I’ll walk with you. Keep up with me!”

  Haloke smiled. Her little sister always was eager at the beginning. But by the end it seemed to always be Haloke carrying the sleepy little one on her shoulders or in her arms.