I won’t let them hurt you, Naomi.
“My brother is an adrenaline junkie.”
“I hope he’s safe.” She hoped all the people hunting those bastards were safe.
“What are you going to do?”
Naomi’s thoughts spun, muddled by morphine. “I guess I need to find a hotel.”
She could stay there until her stitches were out and then…
“Why don’t you stay with Chaska and me? We have a spare bedroom. I’ll take you to your appointments, and you can see Shota. You can figure out the rest later.”
Naomi stared at Winona, astonished once again by her kindness. “You truly wouldn’t mind?”
“It would be fun to have you there, and it would save you money.”
Naomi studied Winona for a moment, saw nothing in her eyes but kindness. “Okay, if you’re sure—and thank you.”
McBride turnedonto Fourth Street and pulled to a stop in front of the two-story Victorian house Chaska shared with his sister. “You were a big help out there today. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Chaska couldn’t hold back his frustration. “My help didn’t amount to much in the end, did it?”
They hadn’t caught the bastards. The cabin had been empty.
“I wouldn’t say that. If you want to meet some of the Shadow Wolves, let me know. I’ll set something up. They could use a good man like you.”
It was a powerful compliment, especially coming from a man like McBride, who understood a few things about Native culture.
“Thank you.” Chaska climbed out.
“Can I get in touch with you if I think we need your help again?”
Chaska had no problem with that. “Sure. I can’t make any promises.”
McBride grinned. “Good enough. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
“I’m off to talk to the victim about her vehicle.”
That would be a fun conversation.
Chaska walked up to the house, body tense with frustration. What he needed was a good couple of hours at the rock gym, doing laps up a 5.11 route until his muscles screamed and his mind was empty.
He stepped through the front door and found his sister cleaning the downstairs bathroom, rubber gloves on her hands. A mop leaned against the bathroom door, Linkin Park blasting over the speakers. Winona was home early, and she was cleaning.
Something was up.
She jumped when she saw him. “Oh! I didn’t hear you.”
He believed that. “Is the music loud enough? I’m not sure all of our neighbors can hear the lyrics.”
She stopped scrubbing the sink. “How did it go out there? Did you get them?”
“No.” He walked to the iPod stereo and turned down the music, not wanting to have an entire conversation by shouting. “We tracked them to a cabin, but they’d been gone for hours. We picked up their trail again, but it ended at a long-term parking lot next to a pile of window glass. McBride thinks they found a car that had keys in it, busted the window, and stole it. The owner is probably backpacking in the Indian Peaks Wilderness and has no idea the car is gone. That’s why nothing has been reported stolen.”
“So, you have no idea what kind of car it is or what its license plate number is.”