Had Kat figured out the message? And if she had, were these Shadow Wolves out here trying to find her?
At first, the idea had filled her with a sense of relief to think that this nightmare would soon be over and she would be home again. And then . . .
Then Zach would return to the life that had almost gotten him killed. She would go back to the newspaper and the existence she’d known before she’d met him. And everything would be fine.
Except that nothing would be fine at all. Zach would be in danger, not only from the Zetas, but possibly also from law enforcement. And she . . .
She would miss him.
After six long years, she’d finally begun to feel again, and he was the reason why. It wasn’t just the situation. It washim. It was Zach. She didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it, but it was true. The idea of him walking out of her life made the bottom drop out of her heart. She couldn’t go back to the way she’d been before—darker, emptier, and more parched inside than this desert.
That’s up to you, isn’t it, girl?
She supposed it was. She’d made herself a promise to live again, and she needed to keep that promise, no matter who was in her life.
And what will happen to Zach?
Would the two of them be processed like others who’d crossed the border illegally? Would they be detained, fingerprinted, questioned? How would they prove who they were without ID?
One thing was certain: If they were fingerprinted, and Zach had a criminal record, he would be arrested. She didn’t want that to happen.
“What will these Shadow Wolves do with us when they find us?”
Ahead of her, Zach came to an abrupt halt. For a moment, she thought he’d stopped because he was irritated with her for asking a question. Then he crouched down, motioning for her to do the same, pistol in hand. She did, her pulse rocketing. It was in that same moment that she noticed it—an indescribably awful stench.
Zach seemed to be looking toward a stand of mesquite that stood off to their right. Her gaze followed his, and though she didn’t have night vision goggles, she was just able to make it out—the shapes of human bodies strewn across the ground. “All dead.”
Natalie was on her feet, hand covering her mouth, her stomach revolting at the sight, the smell, the shock of it.
Then Zach was there beside her. “Breathe! Don’t you dare get sick. You’ll get dehydrated.”
He took her gloved hand with his and drew her along behind him, until the horrible odor had dissipated. Then he turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Sorry. I smelled them before I saw them. They were hidden by the mesquite.”
“Wh-what happened to them?”
“Don’t know. Couldn’t tell.” He held her tighter. “Whatever it was, it’s not going to happen to you.”
JOAQUIN SIPPED HIS coffee wanting this damned meeting to end. It was already ten o’clock and hotter than hell outside. If Natalie was out there somewhere . . .
“So you think they’ve crossed onto our land?” Ned Zepeda, commander of the Shadow Wolves, looked across the table at Marc and Kat, who sat close to Gabe holding their baby on her lap.
Kat had insisted on coming along, certain that she, as a Navajo, could help. Gabe had refused to let her go without him, and Marc had welcomed his company. As an extreme climber and skier, as well as a paramedic and a former park ranger, he was not only experienced with the outdoors, but also good with a gun and handy when it came to first aid. And he had balls of solid rock, having sacrificed his left leg to save Kat’s life. No one watching him would suspect he wore a prosthesis.
“Yes, sir, we do.” Kat handed Commander Zepeda a copy of the transcribed code-talk message. “We were hoping you might be able to help us find her.”
Zepeda studied it, his brow furrowing. His face was weathered by the sun, deep lines etched into his cheeks, making Joaquin wish he’d brought his camera inside. But that’s not why they were here.
“Rossiter and I are both trained law enforcement, so we can handle ourselves.” Marc pointed to Joaquin with a jerk of his head. “Ramirez is a photojournalist. He was with Ms. Benoit when she was taken. We’d like to ride along, or if you can’t mount a rescue effort today, we’d like permission to rent or borrow a vehicle and head out on your land ourselves.”
Still looking at the transcript, Zepeda shouted toward the hallway. “Eh, Chiago, get in here. You’re going to want to see this.”
Another officer—a tall son of a gun—walked into the room. Well over six feet, he looked like he was in his thirties. Dressed in a green military-style uniform, a pistol holstered on his hip, he looked at them through dark eyes that had seen their share of action. His dark hair was cropped short, his hard gaze moving over everyone in the room as if sizing them up, then softening when he looked at Kat and Alissa. “Yeah, Chief?”
Commander Zepeda repeated the story that Kat and Marc had just told him, then handed the transcript to Chiago. “Got any thoughts on this?”
Chiago frowned, read through it, then looked up at them. “I’ll take you out. We’ll get a team together. It’s a big reservation, but we’ll see if we can find her. But tell me again about this man you heard whispering in the background. Did you bring a file of that recording with you?”
CHAPTER 18