Fatal Intent (Desert Heat Book 3) Read online

  “I believe you’d have actually taken me up on that,” he said.

  Now she knew he was teasing, and her course was clear. “Any time, any place,” she teased back.

  It was his turn to look uncertain. Before it got uncomfortable again, she linked her arm through his. “Come on, let’s go to the deli and get a picnic lunch to take to the ruins with us. Surely we can find some shade there, even at noon.”

  Dylan gave her another uncertain look, but let her lead him out to his pickup, where he helped her up on the running board and into the passenger seat. “Rain check?” he said, as he leaned in to kiss her.

  “I’m pretty sure the forecast calls for rain tonight,” she answered, murmuring against his lips.

  The ruins turned out to be interesting, but not as extensive as other parks Dylan had worked in. They did find a nice covered picnic area that wasn’t too crowded due to the heat. Walking along with a guided tour, they did get hot, sandy and sweaty, and the sight of Dylan’s glistening brown skin had Alex’s eyes constantly shifting to watch him, imagining what his shirt covered and more. She didn’t know about him, but she couldn’t wait for the moment they found themselves alone again, in the cool of her house.

  That moment came after he maddeningly insisted on driving to the casino after all, only to declare himself not interested in it and driving back to Casa Grande. They had dinner at a Mexican restaurant where Alex tried to order a margarita only to be rebuffed by a server, who was clearly immune to the college students’ attempts to be served while underage. Dylan laughed at her and refused to order one she could taste.

  “You’ll pay for that,” she threatened.

  At last, the sun went down and Alex insisted they go home. She didn’t say it to Dylan, but she thought they probably should have followed through on their teasing earlier in the day. It was all she could think of, even though the sweat of the afternoon had dried and they’d brushed the sand off their skin before going into the restaurant. Maybe it was the anticipation, or maybe she was growing up. She didn’t know for sure, but tonight she felt adventurous and more forward than she’d felt with him before. She proved it the moment they closed the door behind them and she turned into his arms.

  “I can’t wait another minute, Dylan,” she said. “Make love to me now.”

  Dylan stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, looking deeply into her eyes. “How about that shower?” he asked.

  “As long as we’re together,” she said. This was something new, too. Except in bed, he’d never seen her nude, nor she him. In fact, she usually had her eyes closed tightly, and she didn’t know why. Maybe, like an ostrich, she thought if she couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see her either, and she wouldn’t need to be embarrassed by her nudity. How silly it seemed now! She wanted him to see her. Wanted him to tell her she was beautiful and know he meant every part of her. Something was different about them being together tonight, and she couldn’t pin it down.

  Alex firmly turned off her analytical side and gave herself to the moment. Dylan bent his head to kiss her, slowly and thoroughly, slipping his tongue between her lips to dance with hers. When she swayed toward him, he caught her around the waist and shoulders with his muscular arms and bent her back, trailing kisses down her jaw to the hollow of her throat, licking the salty skin with a growl.

  Alex’s insides turned to molten lava then, and her fingers curled into his arms, digging into his skin. Dylan picked her up as if she were weightless and carried her into her bedroom. He set her down on the bed and gave her another look that curled her toes, before taking the few steps into her bathroom and turning on the shower.

  When he returned for her, he was naked. She’d shed her clothes too, and his eyes burned her skin as they roamed over every inch of it. Then, still without a word, he took her hand and pulled her up, then led her into the bath and helped her over the rim of the tub into the shower. Alex found her voice as Dylan turned her back to him and pulled her close.

  “Wait, no fair!”

  “You’ll get your turn.” Dylan’s husky voice betrayed his feelings as his soapy hands came around the front of her and began to stroke her.

  Alex closed her eyes and leaned back against him. The evidence of his arousal settled in the curve of her ass and made her hyper-aware of every sensuous stroke of his hands. When one hand cupped a full breast and the other dipped between her legs, she almost lost the ability to stand, but his arms held her firm. It took only moments to reduce her to a quivering blob of jelly. Dylan turned her again and snuggled her close.

  “Shall we go to bed?”

  “No!” she managed. “You promised me a turn!”

  He chuckled softly. “I thought that was your turn.”

  In answer, she reached blindly for the soap and began stroking him from shoulders to thighs, coming close but teasing him by not touching that part of him that was waving for her attention.

  “Woman,” he warned. “That’s a loaded weapon.”

  He managed to persuade her to get out of the shower before she was through teasing him, but once in bed, they resumed their foreplay until they came together like never before. Alex figured out the difference then. Her reservations were gone. She loved him, deeply, irrevocably. She was his, and if she believed her heart, she always had been. She just hadn’t told him yet.

  ~~~

  Dylan woke up in Alex’s bed, with his arms wrapped around her and no one else in the house. He wouldn’t have moved from there for the rest of the day, but she insisted on getting up and going out for coffee and a pastry for breakfast, then on to the grocery store for some things to bake a cake. Dylan groaned when he realized the roommates were going to join the two of them for an actual birthday party.

  “Alex, I’m too old for a birthday party.”

  “You are not. Quit complaining, this is my gift to you,” she said. He considered reminding her of the gift of the previous night, but decided discretion would be better when he noticed how close the other tables were. Instead, he gave her a knowing smile that made her blush. He loved that about her. As smart, independent and self-sufficient as she was, she still blushed like a little girl when she was flustered. To have her flustered over him was the best part. His smile broadened and she rolled her eyes at him.

  They lingered over their coffee, talking idly about what mischief Davi had gotten into lately, and whether he should try to get Juan interested in a baseball or soccer city league. Before he was ready to move, Dylan noticed Alex glancing at her watch.

  “Do you want to go?” He smiled again, to let her know he didn’t mind.

  “Not really, but we should, if your cake is going to have any frosting on it. It has to cool first.” She began listing ingredients she needed and he could see they had at least a twenty-minute shopping trip to get through as well.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  As they stood, a voice called out from somewhere in the restaurant. “Well, no wonder. She’s got one of them for a lover.”

  Neither Alex nor Dylan looked around, until the voice made it clear its owner was addressing them. “You’re the girl writes that beaner-lovin’ blog. What’s your boyfriend’s name, beaner-lover? Bet he’s one-a them illegal border-hoppers. What’s your name, wetback?”

  Alex froze mid-stride, and then turned around to look for the speaker, her face a thundercloud. Dylan put his hands on her shoulders, and said in a low voice, “Ignore him. Come on, let’s just leave.”

  Alex stiffened at his touch, then relaxed. “You’re right. Come on. Ignorant redneck, anyway.”

  “Don’t stoop to his level. Calling names never solved anything.”

  Dylan would have been amused at the misunderstanding if it hadn’t been so unpleasant for Alex. He was Tohono O’odham, not Latino or Mexican, though the difference was academic along the border, as he’d learned from his aunt Wanda a few months ago. He guided Alex out with his hand on the small of her back.

  As soon as they were outside, she whirled
and threw her arms around him. “Dylan, I’m so sorry!”

  Surprised, Dylan peeled her away from him to look her in the face. “Why, baby? You think I feel bad about myself because some asshole is prejudiced? I don’t.”

  “But what he said was so ugly!” Alex’s face was a mask of sorrow. Dylan had never wondered whether she considered him second-class, or beneath her notice. She’d never made him feel that way. In a way, having the thought intrude into their existence was like a flaw on an otherwise beautiful flower, and it saddened him, too.

  “Baby, sticks and stones. You know? Words can’t hurt us if we don’t let them. But I don’t like that kind of hatred aimed at you. Please, please take your picture down from your blog. At least do that for me.”

  “Okay, Dylan, I guess you were right about that. I’ll do it tonight.”

  “Thanks, babe. I’ll feel much better when I know people won’t necessarily recognize you on the street.”

  “Me too, I guess.”

  They thought no more about it as Alex baked her cake and her housemates arrived with pounds of fresh shrimp they’d brought on ice from Rocky Point. Between the three girls, enough friends showed up to celebrate Dylan’s birthday that he felt part of a group of happy people for the first time in a long while.

  SEVEN

  Between the festivities of the party, which included some very odd pairings of beer and birthday cake, and Dylan leaving, Alex forgot her promise to take her picture off her blog that night. She remembered the next morning though, when an anonymous comment appeared for moderation. She read it in disgust and then deleted it. No way was she going to allow that filth on her blog. The comment called her everything from a fucking whore to a cock-sucking bitch of a wetback-lover. The worst part wasn’t the language. It was the utter disregard for everything she was saying, the deliberate misunderstanding.

  A little more cynical now, Alex removed her photo from the blog and replaced it with the symbol that spoke to her most from the O’odham tradition. I’itoi, Big Brother, stands at the entrance to a maze representing life. The journey is long and takes many twists, but at the center is a return to the center of everything. Alex imagined it as the heaven she’d read about, though she hadn’t been raised in any particular religious tradition. Instead, she thought of a sort of misty otherworld, where spirits roamed free of pain, suffering and sorrow.

  After class on Tuesday, she met with her adviser, the journalism professor who’d first encouraged her to blog and to make it a paying enterprise. That it barely made enough to support her internet connection didn’t matter. She told him about the ugly incident at the coffee shop and the disturbing comment she’d refused to publish.

  “Alex, there’s a fine line between censorship and keeping yourself safe. Did you get the sense that the person who commented had any personal animosity toward you?” Professor Daniels asked.

  “Well. Yeah, I got the idea it was the same person, actually. Some of the phrases were the same. But I want my blog to be as appropriate as it can be, considering the subject matter. I want kids to be able to see it, too. So I couldn’t really allow that language.”

  Alex firmly believed that kids as young as pre-teens had just as much right, when their parents or other loved ones were missing, to know what was happening as anyone older did. She’d known from a very young age that her mother had gone somewhere and not come back. No one ever told her, though, whether they thought she was dead. In fact, her dad to this day insisted she was alive.

  “I understand, and for that reason I support your decision to ban inappropriate language. But you can’t ban everyone’s dissenting comments. Otherwise, what you have is editorials, not journalism.”

  Surprised, Alex retorted, “I intended to have editorials. That’s what blog posts are, aren’t they? Opinion?”

  “Only if you unequivocally state them as such. Do you?”

  The question disappointed her. Had her professor, her adviser, not read her blog? Surely, he should have known.

  “Unless the post is a news item, I do label it an editorial,” she said. Was her tone sufficiently respectful, even though she was disappointed in the man she thought was on her side?

  Unbelievably, he had yet another challenge for her. “And do you think it is in the best interest of the debate to disallow dissent with your opinion?”

  Was this a trick question? Alex took a moment to think. “No… ” she said, still thinking as she spoke. “I don’t guess it is. To be fair, though, I haven’t had many comments, and most of them have been in agreement with what I’ve said. Only this one wasn’t, and it didn’t really have any thing intelligent to say. Just name-calling.”

  “Very good, Alex,” Daniels answered, smiling now. “You’ve crossed another milestone. Journalism is about exposing truth. You can’t expose truth without debate. You’re doing fine.”

  Alex was relieved, until he spoke again. “Did you ban that person, or just his comment?”

  “Just the comment.”

  “In that case, make sure there is no trail leading back to your physical location. He sounds like a dangerous character. Your boyfriend was right to insist you take your personal photo down. I only hope it’s not too late.”

  Alex left Daniels’ office wide-eyed and fearful. She’d had enough personal interaction with danger in her short life, and she wasn’t particularly interested in pursuing another encounter with it. When she got home, she’d talk with her housemates about always securing the door, even when they were at home. Her discussion with Daniels suggested she’d better think more seriously about getting a private hosting account with extra security around the ownership of her blog. Not once did she consider abandoning it.

  Two days later, she was thankful she hadn’t. She arrived at the regular get-together of the activist group at the Student Union building, to find the group in chaos.

  “What’s going on?” she asked one of the boys that seemed closest to Dawn.

  “Have you seen or heard from Dawn?” he asked, startling her.

  “No, why? Haven’t you?” Alex was under the impression that this boy was more than a fellow activist to Dawn. In fact, she’d thought them a couple.

  “Not since Sunday,” he revealed. He gestured at the knots of others, all talking with animation and plenty of noise. “I’ve asked everyone. No one has heard from her since I did. She sent me a text Sunday afternoon that she was going for a visit to the rez. Since then, nothing.”

  “What about classes? Have you checked to see if she was in class? Maybe she’s just been busy.”

  The boy, whose name Alex now remembered was Jesse, became even more agitated. “No, that’s just it! Every class she has, she shares with one or more of us. We haven’t seen her. She hasn’t returned my texts or calls. It’s as if she disappeared into thin air!”

  “Calm down. Let’s get this organized,” Alex said. She stood on a chair and whistled loudly. Everyone turned to look at her.

  “Jesse tells me Dawn is missing. We need to verify if that’s true, and if so, we need to get a search organized. Has anyone heard from her or seen her since Sunday afternoon?”

  No one responded. Alex began to get a sick feeling.

  “Does anyone know her people on the rez?”

  A couple of girls raised their hands. “Can you call and see if she’s still there? Maybe she’s sick or something.” Alex climbed down from the chair and met Jesse close to the two girls, who could have been sisters. One was holding a cell phone to her ear.

  “There’s no answer,” she said.

  Alex could see no other alternative than going to Dawn’s home in person. A call that she was missing might panic her folks, come to think of it. Who knew what that would cause? “Can you direct me to her parents’ home, if I drive?” she asked.

  Jesse answered. “I can. We can take my truck.”

  “Come on, then. If she isn’t there, there’s no more time to waste.” Alex remembered vividly how close to death she’d come while being hel
d in a small RV. Granted, the weather wasn’t quite as hot in early June as it had been in late July, but the heat could still be deadly. If her calculations were correct, Dawn had gone missing at least four days ago, possibly a little longer.

  She followed him out of the building at a trot and climbed into his old pickup on the passenger side. She didn’t know Jesse well. None of them, really. She was an outsider to the group, even though she was sympathetic to their cause. Dawn going missing gave her a stronger bond, because of her own experience. Someone had to find her.

  While they drove, she sent Dylan a message. He’d be home from work by now, probably even have the kids in bed and trying to have a relaxing evening. This was a different county from theirs, and she knew none of the law enforcement people here. She was hoping Dylan could get hold of Lt. Wells and ask for a referral to someone in Pinal County in case they needed a search party. At the same time, she held out hope that they’d find Dawn safe at home and nursing a summer cold or something.

  When she finished her text and received Dylan’s reply that he’d do what he could, she turned to Jesse.

  “Forgive me if this is none of my business, but isn’t Dawn your girlfriend?”

  “I wish,” he answered. “I used to think so. But once she got involved in this, she didn’t seem to have time for me anymore. I hang out with this group in case she wants to see me that way again.”

  His voice was so flat that Alex wondered if he’d given up hope. She put her hand on his arm. “Don’t give up on her,” she said. What if Dylan had given up on her when she was being such a pill about her career?

  Jesse smiled a sad, sweet smile. “Never,” he said.

  They got to the rez at a little after nine, which wasn’t ideal. Ordinarily, Alex would never knock on the door of a stranger at that time of night, but this could be an emergency. She knocked, with Jesse standing just a bit behind her.

  When the door opened, a short, stout Native man appeared. His expression was one of annoyance until he spotted Alex, and then it turned to puzzlement. Alex could read his thoughts. What was a white girl doing knocking on his door at this hour?