Under The Western Sky. Laurie Paige

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      Which he deserved for scaring the devil out of her by yanking out those handcuffs and trying to clamp them on her without warning. If he’d explained himself, then she could have explained her part in the supposed crime and all would have been resolved.

      She was still frowning when he returned, holding an ice pack to his nose. Seeing it made her feel somewhat guilty for being the cause. But only a little bit, she added, since it was his fault in the first place.

      “Chief Windover is gone for the weekend,” he said.

      “Oh, that’s right. He’s taken his family camping and fishing at Many Farms Lake.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s where I heard of you.”

      “I haven’t been to Many Farms Lake, wherever that is.”

      “Arizona, near Canyon De Chelly. However, it was while I was in the chief’s office that I heard of you. He got a call from the park service. Your name was mentioned. He said he would alert the tribal police. I assumed you were an escaped convict.”

      “I let the authorities know I was investigating a case and would be on the reservation at times. I needed a counterpart with their law enforcement department to work with me.”

      “Like Officer Diaz with the state police here?”

      “Yeah, like Chuck.”

      “Well, that explains everything,” she said, standing. “I’m glad we had this chat. Now I need to get home and—”

      “You’re not going anywhere,” he informed her.

      She tried for calm. “Now that you know who I am and that I’m not guilty of anything, aren’t you going to let me go?”

      “No way.”

      “Why not?” It came out a belligerent snarl.

      “Until we contact the chief, we have no one to vouch for you.”

      “That is the stupidest thing I ever heard. You have my driver’s license and address. You can call anyone on the council or one of the clinical staff. Surely that’s enough to check out my identity.”

      “Maybe, but the law doesn’t work that way. Your being a nurse doesn’t mean anything. There are serious charges against you. Transporting stolen goods for one. Selling priceless artifacts, for another. You also resisted arrest, which I could have added to the list but didn’t,” he stated as if he’d done her a huge favor, his thick eyebrows drawn into a severe frown above the ice bag.

      “If you’d shown me your badge first and told me what was happening, we could have talked it over without all that, uh, hassle.”

      “Hassle?” he said. “You bruised my nose and stomped my foot. That was just the beginning. Once I caught you, you tried to choke me with the cuffs, not to mention the attempt to poke me in the eyes. Hassle? It was assault and battery in my book.” He waved an arm expansively.

      “That was self-defense,” she told him hotly. “It’s very frightening to a woman to be grabbed by a strange man. Keep that ice pack on your nose.”

      He clamped the bag back on his face and winced in pain. “Anyway,” he continued, “you’ll have to stay here until we can check out your story.”

      “Here, as in jail?”

      “Yeah.”

      She couldn’t believe this. It was just too, too absurd for words. It belatedly occurred to her that she might actually need some professional help. “I want to call my brother. He’s an attorney. He’ll tell you who I am.”

      “You’ll have to ask the D.A. if you can have another call.” He started for the door.

      “I haven’t had the first one yet.”

      “Chief Windover. That was who you asked for.”

      “I demand to see somebody. Where is this district attorney?”

      He shrugged. “The office is closed for the weekend. You’ll have to wait until Monday to talk to him. Also,” he added when she started to protest, “the courthouse is closed, too. There’s no judge to listen to your case and set bail. Not that I would recommend bail. You’re a prime candidate to flee, in my opinion.”

      “Which you would just have to give, wouldn’t you?”

      His smile was barely visible under the ice pack. “It would be my civic duty.”

      With that, he left her alone in the narrow ugly room with its scarred table and three chairs, one of which had a broken leg. The anger, sarcasm and just plain disbelief faded. She blinked back unexpected tears, feeling as abandoned as a two-year-old lost in a department store.

      Not that she considered him a savior. The handsome, albeit unreasonable, detective was the one who’d gotten her into this mess. Well, Josiah, too. She had a thing or two to say to that innocent-acting young man.

      The grizzled sergeant stuck his head in the door. “Let’s go,” he said.

      “Am I free?” she asked in surprised relief.

      He gave her a look that said she wasn’t.

      “What about my car? It isn’t locked. Someone could steal it.”

      “After it was searched, it was towed in.”

      “Searched? Towed?” she repeated indignantly.

      The officer wouldn’t be drawn into further conversation. He shrugged off her questions, took her to a cell and locked the door after she was inside.

      She was a prisoner.

      Chapter Two

      After canceling his date, Tony drove home, staring at the road while the late-afternoon sun began its glide into the evening. He examined the swelling across his nose and under his eyes. On the way to his temporary home, a room in the local park headquarters barracks, his thoughts strayed to the jail. He wondered what the captive was doing at this moment. Probably giving an earful to whoever happened to be handy about her wrongful arrest.

      She’d probably sue him if she was innocent.

      At the long, low residence barracks, he parked in front of his unit, which was one big room with a bed, sitting area and kitchen consisting of an under-thecounter fridge, a two-burner hot plate, a sink and a microwave, and went inside. He had his own bathroom here, unlike some hostels he’d stayed at during his college years while working for the park service.

      All the comforts of home.

      The nosebleed returned when he took a shower. Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, he held a new batch of ice cubes to his nose while he studied the contents of the cabinets.

      As usual, his choices ran to cereal, sandwiches or soup. Not exactly a gourmet selection, but better than the food the suspect would likely get in jail.

      He СКАЧАТЬ