Free Navajo's Woman by Beverly Barton Page B

on the table, she took another sip of her cof-fee and faced Joe.
    “Want to make a trip to Arizona?''
    "Sure thing.I'd say Doli's hunch that Russ might have gone to a relative is our best lead yet.Actually, our only lead. Let me tell J.T. where we're going, and then wecan , head out within the hour."
    Andi grabbed Joe's arm and gazed into his eyes. "If the boys are there at Doli's uncle's home, Russ is going to balk when he sees you. He still blames you for what happened to our father."
    "Just as you do."
    "It's different for Russ. He's only a boy and he doesn't deal with his emotions rationally sometimes."
    "Are you saying Russ might shoot me on sight?"
    "No, damn it, that's not what I'm saying." Andi gritted her teeth. "I'm asking that when we get to Jefferson Nastas's home, you stay in the SUV and let me go in and check things out. Okay?"
    "Sure. You know your brother better than I do. The last thing I want is to scare him off."
    "Why don't you pack us a couple of sandwiches, and we'll pick up some bottled water at a store somewhere. I need to get dressed so we can leave as soon as possible."
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    "Go." Joe waved his hand, shooing her from the kitchen. "I'll fix the sandwiches and a thermos of coffee, after I call J.T."
    Charlie Kirk had tailed people before, so he knew what he was doing. His main objective was to not let the boys catch on that they were being followed. He'd been damn lucky that a friend of a friend had spotted the stolen truck early this morning and had called Mr. Lanza instead of getting in touch with the police. But then, Mr. Lanza paid better for information than the police did.
    His orders were to kill the boys.And to do it incon-spicuously. Hit them when they were alone, if possible, or when they were around the fewest number of people. Eliminate all witnesses. And make sure nothing pointed a finger at Mr. Lanza.
    If he'd found Russ Lapahie and Eddie Whitehorn last night, he could have done the job quickly and easily. But now they were on the move, going northwest and still within the reservation boundaries.
    Where the hell were they headed? Charlie wondered. He'd just have to wait and see, and then, when the time was right, he would strike.
    Jefferson Nastas lived in the foothills of the sparse Na-vajo land and was the proud owner of a small cattle herd. His sons-in-law and grandsons now worked the cattle for him. A widower for three years, he was all but retired and had moved into a small house that had been built for him by his family. His days were filled with peace and con-tentment. Occasionally he would ride his horse the three miles that separated him from his grandchildren and visit them for an afternoon. From time to time, a relative or a friend would come by to pass the time with him, and he would always make them welcome. But for the most part, he preferred his solitude.
    Today, he sat outside in an old rocking chair, the mid-day sun warm on his face, as he finished his daily medi-tation. Although his eyesight was not what it used to be, his hearing had not diminished. He heard the vehicle long before it reached his home. A truck, he surmised, going at top speed around the winding dirt road. Within minutes he noted a cloud of dust rising into the air, coming toward him like a whirlwind.
    He didn't move from his chair as he awaited his visitors' arrival.
    He did not recognize the truck or the two Navajo youths who emerged from it. But they were several yards away, and he did not wear his glasses when he meditated.
    "Uncle Jefferson," the taller boy called to him.
    He recognized that voice, and when the boys drew nearer he saw that one of them possessed a familiar face.
    "Russell Lapahie, Jr.," Jefferson said."The son of my sister's daughter. You are welcome here."
    "Thank you," the boy replied.
    A look of fear showed plainly in the eyes of both young braves.The fear of those being chased by evil.
    "You will introduce