

# THUNDER

## The World of Professional Wrestling

## By Rita Karnopp

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-0274-3

Kindle 978-0-2286-0275-0

Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0276-7

2nd Edition Copyright Rita Karnopp

Cover Art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

# Chapter One

Chloe didn't see Thunder anywhere around. The humidity of the Florida night air soaked her to the bone. She reached for the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Three in the morning – it didn't seem right. Call it a detective's sixth sense or experience - someone was watching her. She glanced right, then left, straining to hear anything in the eerie stillness.

Taking a deep breath she entered the Yamada Training Facility, making every effort to be discreet. Cold air engulfed her completely and she shivered. If Thunder came early to work out, why couldn't she hear the echoes of his equipment? Something was wrong, starting with his text telling her to come and meet him here. He hated cellphones and he never used text messaging.

She pulled her gun out of her purse and pulled the slide toward her and held the barrel up in front of her forehead. Chloe inched her way down the corridor and turned right into the lounging area under a round skylight. She gasped and froze in place. "Thunder," she cried out.

His body swayed slightly. . . a braided horsehair rope gripped his neck. She tossed her gun into her purse, dropped it to the floor and ran toward the metal ladder flipped over on its side. It took incredible effort to lift and set it upright. She slid it over near Thunder's limp body and quickly climbed up. Hanging onto the edge she leaned over until she could reach out and check for a pulse. There was none.

"I've got to get you down." She grabbed him around the waist and pulled his body toward the ladder. If she could somehow get the rope off his neck and lower him to the floor . . . she could start CPR.

"Leave the man where he hangs, girl."

Chloe jumped, then shot a quick glance down and stopped short - staring into Mamba Yamada's black evil eyes. "Help me get him down. Come on!" She lifted his waist and struggled to pull his body toward the ladder."

"You're tampering with evidence. The police won't like knowin' you moved that ladder or touched the body. There's nottin' you can do for him now. Best you call 911 and wait for the circus to begin." He released a dry annoying laugh and shook his head.

She hated the man's broken, African accent. "Get your ass up here and help me. We still might be able to save his life."

"He be dead. Plain and simple."

"You know this how?" She couldn't refrain from glaring at him. She didn't care if he read the distain in her expression. Again she pressed her fingertips into Thunder's neck, hoping for a hint of pulse. Devastated, she made her way down the ladder.

"Found him that way - half hour ago. He sent me a text and told me to meet him here. Said he had . . . something interesting to show me."

"Was Thunder in the habit of texting you?" Chloe picked up her purse and dug for her cellphone.

"No, actually that's the first time - now that you mention it. I thought it was strange considering the time."

She dropped her purse. "Damn it!" Sinking to her knees she tossed lipstick, checkbook and a pen back into her bag. "Why haven't you called the police?" She grabbed for the cellphone.

"I not be calling no police. I be leaving that kind of thing to a girl like you. They be climbing down me throat and me business soon enough."

"Which means you've been busy removing anything that could be considered illegal before they get here." Yamaba might be considered rather handsome had he not sported dreadlocks that dangled just below his shoulders, they made her skin crawl. His mustache and goatee complimented his light black complexion. He always seemed to be wearing the same white baggy pants and long white shirt. She'd never seen him without the double stranded wood beads and a choker of leather, hanging from it a dangling Y carved in ivory. Cradled in the Y was the largest diamond she'd ever seen. Thunder had once told her Yamaba had harvested it himself and several others like it . . . and escaped Africa. That was only ten years ago and now he owned one of the largest wrestling training facilities in Florida.

"Don't you be pointin' fingers at me, girl. I run a legitimate business here."

Sitting on the floor she punched in 911 and impatiently waited for someone to answer. "As legitimate as can be proved," she mumbled under her breath.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I . . . ummm . . . I'm at the Yamada Training Facility. My fiancé, Thunder. . . uh . . . Kitchi Keme . . . is hanging by the neck from the rafters. He's . . . dead." She fought the lump rising in her throat.

"What is your name, ma'am?"

"My name? Chloe Evans."

"Are you certain Mr. Keme is dead?"

"Yes . . . I mean I checked several times for a pulse and can't find one." She wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek.

"What is the address, please."

"223 East Colonial Drive. It's two blocks down from where they are remodeling a warehouse into the new WWE Performance Center."

"Stay right there, I have an ambulance and police on their way."

"Thank you." Chloe pressed end, then closed her eyes.

"This ain't what I be needin' right now." Yamada punched the arm of his leather chair. "Do you know how many organizations want to buy my facility? Two blocks from the Performance Center is the perfect place to be. Even McMahon wants to buy it. Fuck them all!"

"Why not sell . . . I'm sure they're offering more than it's worth?"

"In ten years it will be worth ten times that amount."

Chloe got to her feet and sat across from him. She put her back to Thunder. "You don't seem too upset that Thunder is dead. You have any idea who might do this to him?"

"I don't think it be about Thunder. It stinks of a setup."

"A setup? What do you mean?"

"I won't sell my facility. . . so maybe they can frame me for Thunder's murder. They want me to be the prime suspect. But let me tell you this . . . if I wanted him dead . . . I wouldn't have done it right here and I sure as hell wouldn't have used a rope. Damn fucking gruesome hanging there. Be givin' me the willies."

"Maybe that's your plan. You kill him in your own facility and claim you wouldn't be that stupid. I don't think you strung him up but I do think you might know who did." Chloe watched the man squirm in his chair.

"Wrestling be a violent . . . dog-eat-dog business. A wrestler must be fit and well. But it's not all muscles and brawn, it's intelligence, too. Thunder made new enemies every day. He didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. I'm tellin' you like it is. You don't want to hear the truth, don't ask me any questions."

"I didn't say a word."

"Your expression tells me everything. You be engaged to a loose cannon."

Chloe studied the man. "What do you mean by that?"

"Love puts you at a disadvantage. You only see good side of Thunder. Everyone here had a fight or two with the man. He was nosy and asking questions he didn't have a right to ask. He stepped on one too many toes . . . and it got him killed."

"You don't kill a man over toe-stepping . . . but you might kill if he's learned something that could send you to prison. Besides, a few seconds ago you said he was killed to frame you since you didn't want to sell. Now you want me to think it's because he had a big mouth."

"What you inferrin' girl? I ain't got nothin' to hide. I run me a legit training facility."

"So you've said. You have any idea what Thunder wanted to show you? You said something interesting?"

"If I did . . . I wouldn't give you the fucking satisfaction of knowing."

Chloe glared at the man. She heard sirens in the distance. "They're just about here. You think I should tell them you were pressuring Thunder to release his training contract with you?"

"Fuck you, girlie."

Chloe gave him a stern glare. "Could be construed as motive, don't you think?"

"Fuck you!"

"The way I see it . . . it might mean fuck you."

Yamada jumped to his feet. "I had nothing to do with Thunder's death. That nosey bastard got himself fucked up."

"What questions was he asking?" Chloe slid to the edge of the couch.

"Stupid jerk asked my trainers if they was helping me participate in the Nothing But Nets campaign."

"Why was he interested in that?"

"Hell, I don't know. He be asking everyone who besides them divas Alicia Fox and Natalya visited the refugee camps in Rwanda in February."

"That was part of WWE's alliance with the United Nations Foundation's campaign, wasn't it? I collected funds to help raise awareness to fight malaria in sub-Saharan Africa."

"That be the one."

"They distributed life-saving bed nets to help protect refugee families who were fleeing conflict in neighboring Democratic Republic of the Congo. But why would Thunder be asking about that?"

"Don't know. Every guy in my facility volunteered time and money to get those nets ready for the campaign."

"Meaning they did what?" Hearing the sirens outside the facility, Chloe stood.

"Meaning shit. They boxed up nets and got organizations to donate money to fund as many nets as possible. You can't read anything suspicious into that one."

"What the hell you two doing near that crime scene?" The blue suit quickly headed their way. "Both of you get over here. Who found the body?"

Chloe walked toward the detective. He sported a rugged manly short beard and modern, slightly spiked, dark-brown hair. Blue eyes stared back at her and she struggled not to find him too attractive. "And you are? She asked sarcastically.

"Detective David Steuven."

"Well I'm Chloe Evans and Thunder is . . . was my fiancé. I'm the one who called 911, but I believe Yamada was the first one to find him. When I got here I checked for a pulse, but didn't find one."

"You touch anything?"

"The ladder was tipped over on the floor . . . so I set it up and climbed it to check for a pulse. So yes, I touched it."

"How about you, Yamada I presume?"

Chloe didn't miss his discomfort as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy white pants.

"Mamba Yamada and this be my training facility. I . . . got a text from Thunder telling me to meet him here. When I got here I found him hanging like that. I didn't need to check no pulse to know he be dead."

"What did he want to see you about?"

"Hell if I know . . . he be dead, remember?"

"So you don't have any idea what he could have wanted to discuss with you?"

"Not this time of the mornin.' Just went to bed two hours ago."

"How do you know the victim?"

"He be one of my regulars. Those boys keep a strict work-out schedule."

"Boys?" Detective Steuven stared past Yamada as the crew lower the body.

Chloe swallowed hard. She wanted to run to Thunder, but didn't move.

"You know wrestlers. They's a rare breed willin' to follow strict workouts and demanding schedules. You gotta be focused to make it in this business."

"And Mr. Keme was like that?"

"Thunder," she corrected. "He liked to be called Thunder." Chole wondered where the detective's line of questioning was headed. She couldn't keep from staring at Thunder's lifeless body. She'd seen dead men before . . . but none of them had been her fiancé.

"And you, Miss Evans, why are you here at this time of the morning?"

"Call me Chloe and . . . I'm here for the same reason as Yamada. Thunder sent me a text around two . . . and I came right away."

"He usually ask you to come to his training facility this time of morning?"

"No, actually he never has. That's why I knew something was wrong."

"Miss Evans, I know this is difficult for you but has Thunder been depressed lately? Has he been moody or despondent? I mean . . . you catch any hint, or were there any signs he was planning on hanging himself?"

Chloe shot Detective Stueven a penetrating glare. "He didn't commit suicide."

"That's not what the evidence is saying. He—"

"Excuse me, detective, we found . . . uh . . . we found this in the victim's pocket." He handed over a note slipped inside a plastic bag.

She stepped alongside Steuven and read the note.

"I did this for my My Heart . . . it's for the best. Look up and think of me, Chloe. I'm sorry. Thunder."

"Anyone care to shed light on what the hell this is supposed to mean?" Steuven shouted.

"My Heart is his daughter's name, Nuttah," Chloe closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "The rest means he's looking down at us – I guess. He . . . this isn't how he talks . . . talked. He wouldn't have written that." She looked up at Steuven.

"Printed that you mean?"

"He doesn't . . . didn't print like that and he wouldn't have said he was sorry. He never said the word sorry . . . it wasn't in his vocabulary. Maybe he was forced to leave a suicide note . . . this is his way of telling us he didn't kill himself."

"You're positive?"

She nodded. "I'm positive. We'd joke about it. He'd never say he was sorry . . . because he never did anything to be sorry for. I don't believe he wrote that note for a second and if he did – it is supposed to tell us he didn't hang himself." She waited while Stueven scribbled in his notebook.

"If he didn't write it . . . who do you think did? You have any ideas?"

"Me? No, what would I know?" Chloe noticed Yamada's uneasiness. "Maybe it's not me you should be asking."

"You are . . . were his fiancé. Has he been acting differently lately? Has he been working extra late hours and not coming home? Did he seem worried about anything?"

"I think you misunderstand our relationship. We are engaged but we are not living together."

"I apologize, Miss Evans."

"Chloe."

"I apologize, Chloe. These days couples usually live together before marriage."

"It's out of respect for my parents. Strict Catholics and . . . I guess I have always wanted to save myself for my wedding night."

"No fucking way! You be a virgin? No wonder Thunder was humpin' that blonde."

Chloe glared at Yamada. "What blonde?"

"You know the one. She be a cocktail waitress at some cheesy bar. You can't be that blind or naïve."

She wiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. "Teri Ingman? I . . . don't believe you, Yamada. You're a mean, vindictive, foul-mouthed jerk. You and Thunder have been fighting for months. Maybe you should tell Detective Stueven about that."

"You fucking virgin! That be nobody's business but mine. I didn't kill Thunder."

"What exactly did you and Thunder disagree about?" Steuven asked.

"Like I said, it be nobody's business but mine and Thunders'."

"You can answer me here . . . or maybe you'd like to come down to the station tonight and answer a few more questions."

Chloe held her breath and glared at Yamada.

"We . . . we be discussin' his finding another training facility. He has a five-year contract and I could get more money from the new guys, seeing the WWE Performance Center is now down the road."

"I don't understand," Stueven said.

"Almost every aspiring World Wrestling Entertainment star will train here in east Orange County. The center be a new boot camp where wrestlers perfect their skills, from jumping off the top ropes to talking trash to rivals."

"Damn, they teach all that? I thought they were all just born arrogant and stupid enough to want to get hit and beaten up."

"You have no idea what wrestling is about. You might do some homework if you're going to be investigating Thunder's murder," Chloe said.

"I haven't ruled this scene a homicide yet."

"You're a poor excuse for a detective if you don't. Maybe you didn't notice the rope is braided horse hair?" Chloe waited while he glanced back to view the rope.

"Meaning?" He turned back toward her.

"Meaning . . . ugh . . . must I spell it out?" Chloe glared at Stueven.

"I guess you must since I'm not getting your drift."

Yamaba shifted his feet and stretched his neck from side to side.

"You do know that Thunder is Blackfeet, right?" She waited for Stueven to nod. "Well it seems a bit obvious that Thunder wouldn't hang himself with a Native American made rope."

"I'm not following you, Chloe."

"Thunder split ways with his family. They didn't approve of his lifestyle. They disapproved of his divorce. Then he filed for full custody of his daughter, Nuttah. His most grievous of all offenses was he started dating me, a napikwan. They turned their backs on him."

"A napi . . . what?"

"A napikwan. Really? You can't figure that one out? A white woman. Me."

"Maybe that's all the more reason he may have committed suicide."

"Thank you, detective."

"No, I mean . . . he couldn't face his family turning on him like that."

"No, it means he wouldn't have used a horsehair braided rope. I'm telling you, he wouldn't have disrespected his people or his heritage by hanging himself."

"Once again, Chloe, I'm not following you."

"You really need to study-up on the Native culture. Where you from?" Chloe stared at the handsome detective and noticed a dimple in his cheek as he spoke.

"I'm from California. So if you don't mind, please explain your comment."

Chloe twisted the Native beaded bracelet Thunder had given her. "In the old days it was believed hanging by the neck trapped the spirit inside the body and it can't get out. I'm not saying they still believe that, but you won't find many hanging suicides among Native Americans."

"Interesting. Maybe that's what Thunder was counting on."

"You're saying he hung himself because it would draw suspicion? Unlikely, Detective Stueven."

"I'll need a statement from both of you. It would be best if you both came down to the station right now while everything is fresh in your mind."

"I be needin' some sleep. I'll come down to your station tomorrow . . . uh . . . I guess that be later today. "

"No one will be allowed inside this training facility until we've finished processing the crime scene."

"Everyone has their own key. They not be missing a day of training. You better tell your boys to hurry because I not be closin' down."

"Maybe when they hear about the death of their friend they'll understand." Stueven flipped a page and jotted a few more notes.

"Thunder had no friends here. They'll be wanting to work out."

"I'm telling you right now, they won't be stepping inside this building until we say they can. You want to leave and get some sleep, fine. Be at the station around three." He wrote the time down in his notebook. "How about you, Miss Evans? You want to come to the station now or later today?"

Chloe thought it over. She certainly wasn't going to get any sleep. But, before she disclosed anything about herself, she needed to speak with her boss. Thunder's death couldn't have come at a more inopportune time. That sounded cold and she instantly regretted the thought.

"Miss Evans? Chloe, are you okay?"

She looked up into the pale brown eyes of Detective Stueven. "Uh, what? I mean I . . . I need some time to . . . collect myself. I could stop at the station around four if that works for you."

"I'd prefer you come a bit earlier than that. How about two?"

She grabbed a handful of long, red hair and tossed it behind her shoulder. "Fine. You do realize this is all wrong, don't you? You have to dig deeper than what you're seeing on the surface. Thunder did not commit suicide. I don't know what he wanted to tell Mamba and me tonight, but whatever it was got him killed."

"Maybe he wanted the two of you to find his body."

She stared at the man and shook her head. "I don't think he would have wanted either of us here. I don't think he would have wanted to hurt me this way . . . and Mamba isn't high on his list of trusted people. He'd have no reason to want Mamba to find him. No, nothing about this feels right."

"This be fucked up, man."

"Excuse me, Detective Stueven, but there's a door at the end of the hallway that is locked. We need to check it out."

"That be me office. You got no business to be goin' in there. You want to step in that room you best have you a subpoena."

"You hiding something in there, Mamba?"

"No, but it ain't none of your business. I know my rights."

"I'm sure you do. Jake, call and get that subpoena."

Mamba stomped his foot and shook his head. "Stinkin' po-lice."

"Why don't you make it easy on us and just open the damn thing. You know we'll have our subpoena within the hour. We consider the gesture when you cooperate."

"I don't want nobody thinkin' I be cooperating with the po-lice. You want in my office then you gots to get you that subpoena. Meantime, I think I just be sittin' in there waiting till you does." He rubbed his trimmed goatee and glared at Stueven.

"Is that how you want to play this, Mamba?"

Chloe wouldn't have expected anything less of him. He had to be hiding something and she couldn't help thinking that something got Thunder killed. She heard the zipper of the body bag and flicked a single tear from her cheek with the tips of her fingers. "I'm leaving." Sudden exhaustion washed over her. "I can't even think right now." She dug in her purse and retrieved her car keys.

"Would you like someone to drive you home, Miss Evans?"

She glanced at Stueven and read the concern in his expression. "Thank you, but my car is out front and I can manage. You know . . . when I arrived . . . I had this feeling someone was watching me. I couldn't see anyone, yet I just knew someone was lurking close by. You should send someone outside to process the perimeter as soon as possible."

"Too bad you didn't think of that a while ago. Peters? Take Murphy and comb the perimeter. Miss Evans believes someone was watching her as she entered the building. Come on people!" Stuevens shouted, "I want some answers!"

Chloe turned and walked toward the main door. It had only been a few hours since she found Thunder hanging from the rafters . . . it felt like days. She lifted the police tape and headed for her car. She slid behind the wheel, slammed the door, and closed her eyes. This was not going down like anything like she expected. She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. She reached for her phone and pressed Joel Burnstein's number. Hitting speaker, she started the car and shifted into drive while the phone rang and rang. She headed for her apartment, a million thoughts crowding her head.

"Burnstein here."

His groggy tone made her smirk. "Evans here."

"Damn, Evans you have any idea what time it is? This better be good."

"Oh, it's good alright. Thunder's been murdered."

"What the hell? You sure . . . I mean . . . damn it! Two years of work down the toilet! Who killed him?"

"I don't know. I found him hanging from the ceiling at Yamaba's Training Facility. And although I think Mamba's guilty of many things, I don't think he's the doer."

"Why the hell not? He's certainly capable of it . . . and worse."

"You don't think I know that? Listen Bernstein, I need to know how much of my cover do I reveal to the cops." Chloe looked both ways, then sped through the intersection. There was little traffic at three in the morning.

"Your cover is pretty much blown at this point."

"Like hell it is. I haven't said a word to the police. Listen, I want the bastard on top . . . especially now. I want to nail his ass to the wall."

"The stakes have gotten too high. They killed Thunder and won't think twice about killing you. It's just gotten too dangerous."

"You serious? You really think I became an agent to stay safe? I know the risks. I know what position I'm in."

"What position do you think you're in . . . exactly?"

"The right position."

"So you know what Thunder was investigating when it got him killed?"

"Not everything. But I do know it has to do with taking mosquito nets to Africa. He asked Mamba and me to meet him at the training facility. Thunder was dead a half hour before Mamba arrived, which was an hour before I showed up."

"Maybe Thunder was going to confront Mamba."

"I think Thunder found out something that even Mamba wasn't aware of."

"Why Thunder asked you there is what I don't understand. You were his fiancé . . . why would he expose you to such an altercation? Unless he . . . Evans, tell me you didn't let Thunder know you were undercover."

"Now why on earth would I do that? I had no way of knowing how deep Thunder was involved. We only have one hysterical woman's accusations that her husband was killed, making it look like he shot her before killing himself. They find two raw rocks and the whole bureau is singing blood diamonds."

"You're out of line, Evans. We have more evidence than two stones. Serious smuggling is going on, and you know it. Two years and you're finally getting close . . . and your lead is murdered. I'd say we're getting damn close."

"Exactly, then why would you consider taking me out? No one . . . and I mean no one . . . has a clue I'm not Thunder's true fiancé. I'm the best bet we have in getting the bastard on top. You pull me now and we may never get him."

"This is getting dangerous, Evans."

"So? I'm a trained agent, I know what's involved."

"That's just it . . . I'm not sure. You don't have the experience. These people are killers. If they even suspect you're anything other than a wrestling memorabilia sales clerk and Thunder's fiancé - you're screwed."

"I've been here two long boring years. Things are finally getting interesting. I'm getting somewhere and you're thinking of pulling me. I don't understand. I'll say it one more time; I didn't become an agent to be safe. I know the stakes and I want to do this. I'll prove Thunder had nothing to do with this. I think he just might have discovered who did . . . and it got him killed."

"My point exactly. Thunder either stumbled onto something or he figured it out. It has to do with Mamba, that much I'm sure."

"You do realize you have jack shit on what is going on over there? Two years you've been fumbling around in the dark, Evans. Are you going to get yourself engaged to Mamba next?"

"You're out of line, Bernstein. There is only one reason I've been allowed to come and go around the here . . . I'm . . . I was Thunder's fiancé. Now, whether you like it or not, I'm in this thing deep. I have connections and I'm going to use them. I think Thunder was on the side of the law and I'm going to prove it one way or the other."

"And if he's guilty as hell, then what?"

"Then I guess I'll prove that. I'm on the side of justice, Joel."

"What's your next move, then?"

Chloe paused for a moment. She hadn't had time to give it much thought. She was morning Thunder's death. "I . . . Thunder . . . was a good man."

"Your opinion."

"Please, Joel, don't hate him because he's . . . was my fiancé . . . whether for real or undercover, I do . . . did see the good in the man. He didn't deserve to be killed like this. He was making enemies left and right and I'm not sure why. He wouldn't tell me."

"Explain."

"He was keeping an eye on trips to Africa. When Paula Dupare's husband was killed, didn't he refuse to take nets to Africa?"

"So you think the entire wrestling federation is involved with blood diamonds? Are you nuts?"

"I didn't say that, I'm saying someone shot Paula DuPare believing they killed her. They shot her husband to made it look like he killed his pregnant wife, then himself. It's gutsy and not amateurish. I wouldn't be undercover if the bureau didn't believe there was something big here to investigate."

"You were put on this case because they didn't believe Paula DuPare's story. We have to check these things out. They were just getting ready to pull you from the assignment . . . now . . . with Thunder's hanging . . . I'm sure they'll reconsider."

"What are you saying, Joel? You sent me on a two-year dead end? You and your buddies put me on this case because you felt there was no case? Son of a bitch! Two years of my life and you're all laughing at me! You have no idea how pissed I am."

"Calm down, Evans. I shouldn't have told you that. But cheer up. Now that Thunder has either committed suicide or was murdered . . . the case is of interest again."

"You're lucky we're talking on the phone."

"Lighten-up, Evans. Get some sleep. Call me if you learn anything interesting."

Chloe pressed end and slammed her palms on the steering wheel. He didn't deserve a comment. Thunder had died and they only cared about the information he'd uncovered. Bernstein pissed her off. What had Thunder wanted to tell her? Why couldn't he have asked her over to his place to talk? He knew she hated the training facility, yet he asked her to meet him there. Why? Maybe it wasn't Thunder who sent the text . . . someone else used Thunder's phone and sent the messages to Mamba and her.

She pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. Silence and overwhelming exhaustion gripped her. She'd get some sleep . . . then prove Thunder Keme was innocent . . . or she'd die trying.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Two

Mingan pushed back his emotions; they wouldn't serve him right now. No way in hell did Thunder kill himself, period. He wouldn't have done that to Nuttah. Mingan needed to get her from Thunder's fiancé . . . but it suddenly occurred to him, he didn't have her phone number or address. He knew almost nothing about her. His own brother's fiancé and . . . Mingan hadn't given her a chance. Met her once and decided she was all wrong for Thunder and refused to accept her.

If there ever was a time Mingan regretted his actions . . . this was it. The whole family had turned on Thunder. He had a right to divorce Koko. He shouldn't have married her in the first place.

"We need to go to Florida and get Kitchi's things."

"He liked to be called Thunder." Mingan noticed his father's red and puffy eyes.

"The family is Keme, Thunder in the white man's tongue. A man should be called his given name . . . Kichi is . . . was much like his name."

"Yes, he was brave, father. Brave to stand up to the family and make his own decisions as a man. I look back at it and realize I was wrong to turn my back on Thunder."

"Kichi."

"He preferred being called Thunder, and I will respect him in that." Mingan knew it was wrong to argue with his father at such a hard time.

"In the ways of the old ones, we would never say the name of a dead one. A person refrained from saying his own name, unless it was necessary. Today a man calls himself whatever he wants. A name should be given, not taken."

"Thunder isn't just any name, it's our last name. It's powerful with great meaning. In the wrestling world he is very popular and holds much honor." Mingan took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"He . . . was being laughed at by the elders. He pretended to fight and that is . . . was an insult to all the great warriors before him. I tried telling him this. He could have fought, but he should have done so with pride. It was the way he fought that brought offense."

"Father, I know you believe that, but it's not all so easy. It takes great strength and training to be a wrestler. He was a great wrestler. It's like any job; we have bosses and must do what we're told. He wanted to make a great life for Nuttah and he couldn't do that here in Browning, Montana. He was saving money to put her through college."

"She will follow your example on how to make life worthy . . . by getting a good education. You will bring great pride to the Keme name and so will Nuttah. She wants to go to school and be a doctor and come back here to her people. She is tex years old and already she knows her direction."

Mingan smiled and nodded. "Yes, she will make Thunder proud."

"And you? You will soon be finished with your books?"

"I just finished my final exams and soon I'll have my doctorate in Native American History. I've been offered a professorship at the University of Montana next fall. I've accepted and am looking forward to teaching the truth about our people."

"They will let you tell the truth . . . or their truth?" Huritt Keme adjusted the red cloth knot that tied off his long braid.

"I will teach our language, the ways of the old ones, beadwork, our music, and I will paint a picture that tells the truth on both sides. I am going to teach how to make a flute and play one. So you see, the ways of our people will live on in—"

"The napikwan is only interested in the fascination of the Indian. They do not care about preserving our history."

Mingan rubbed the back of his neck. His father would never change his mind, yet Mingan couldn't blame him. What had happened all those years ago remained in the minds and hearts of his Blackfeet people. There were reminders of it everywhere. The people still longed to roam the lands and follow the buffalo. It was in their blood – but it would never be that way again. Yet, his people clung to what was . . . and what they wished still remained.

"Thunder wanted to show our young braves they could do something with their lives and get off the res. He showed them they could pursue their dreams and make a very good living for themselves and their family. He wanted to show that leaving the res was okay."

"The reservation is not the problem. It is the lack of our values. Thunder was promoting the white man's way. It is corrupt and dangerous for our young people. We must protect them and guide them to become educated and come back to help the people."

In ways, his father was right . . . but in so many ways he was like all the old elders. They wanted to live in the past and hoped if they clung to the old ways . . . they would return. "Of all people, I am a strong promoter of our heritage, but we cannot go back . . . we must learn to move forward. We were wrong in how we treated Thunder."

"Maybe I was wrong to judge my son so harshly. I miss him and Nuttah."

"I'm going to find out who killed him," Mingan leaned against the wood gate and scratched Tahki's jaw. Thoughts of Nuttah naming his newborn Spanish Mustang Colt rushed to haunt him.

Nuttah stayed with him as the cold was born. He remembered her saying, "He is cold. Tahki is his name."

Cold wasn't exactly the name Mingan had in mind for a horse he'd waited most of his life to acquire. Nuttah possessed incredible maturity. The people all saw her special powers. Many believed she retained memories of the old-ones. She will make a fine doctor.

"You or mother wouldn't have Chloe's phone number or address, would you?"

"The white girl? No. We know nothing of her."

"If she made Thunder happy, we should have been happy for him." Mingan opened the gate and grabbed a brush. Tahki loved having his hair brushed.

"He should not have divorced KoKo. She could be harsh, but—"

"You'd want your son to stay married to a woman who . . . takes her sleeping blanket all over town? You'd want Nuttah to see her mother become the town whore? Thunder was right in taking his daughter away from this nothing life."

"You agreed with the family in not supporting Thunder. Now you are saying we are . . . were wrong?"

Mingan nodded, "I'm saying I was wrong. I should have listened to my brother. He was not happy here. He loves . . . loved wrestling. He tried telling me something was wrong and he needed my help. I wasn't listening because I had my head in my own life. I wasn't there for him . . . and now he's dead."

"That is not your fault."

"Isn't it? If I had gone back to Florida and had been the trainer I promised him I'd be, maybe he'd still be alive right now. I'm going to take his place on the wrestling circuit. I'm going to find out why and who killed him and set things right." Mingan brushed Tahki's back with a vengeance.

"So I should lose two sons? Your brother would not want you to die because of . . . him. He would want you to be alive to take care of his daughter. His daughter is now your daughter. Nuttah needs you."

"Yes, that may be true, but right now I don't even know where she is."

"She is with the napikwan. We will get her back at Thunder's ceremony. She will stay with her people. There is no more engagement. Koko does not want Nuttah."

"What are you talking about? Of course Koko will want her daughter. She fought to get custody and lost to Thunder, but she still fought for Nuttah."

"She only wanted custody to hurt Thunder. Your mother told me this. Koko isn't even living in Montana."

Mingan stopped brushing and stared at his father. "I thought . . . I thought she was living with Machk and they were going to get married."

"She lived one year with your cousin, then went to Florida."

"Koko is living in Florida? Where? Was she trying to get back together with Thunder?"

"You ask many questions. I only know she is living with a man she calls Schilling."

Mingan slammed the brush into the ground and Tahki bolted, running across the field. "Brandon Schilling?"

"I do not know that for sure, son. Do you know this man?"

"If it's Brandon Schilling, yes I know him. He's about as sleazy as it gets. He has a training camp about a mile down the road from the Yamaba Training Facility."

"This is where Kitchi . . . uh Thunder trained?"

"Yes. I worked with Thunder at the facility and Schilling came in one night and started yelling at Mamba."

"Mamba . . . I have heard this name before."

Mingan pulled himself up and sat on top rung of the heavy gate. "That's because Thunder despised the man. Mamba wanted Thunder to give up his contract agreement to use the training facility. Thunder refused. I never liked Mamba and tried to get Thunder to allow me to sign him up at the Title Wrestling Facility."

"Is this what you boys argued about?"

"It was more than that. You know Thunder, he has . . . had to be right all the time. Once I wanted to switch, he wanted to stay. I pointed out what a jerk Mamba was and he only answered—"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Chuckling under his breath, Mingan nodded. "Exactly. He wouldn't even discuss it after that. That's when he decided to divorce Koko."

"We do not like our children having such troubles."

"I can't blame him for that. A man must draw the line."

"I do not understand why she would go to your cousin. It only makes bad feelings in a family."

"She did it because she knew it would hurt Thunder. Machk was like a brother to us and she knew it. Thunder warned her that he'd get a divorce and get custody of Nuttah if she continued to run around nights drinking."

"Mother and I were very disappointed she chose to do this."

"I told him he should come back to Montana, go back to school and finish his degree like me. He loves . . . loved sports and he could use his . . . could have used his experience in the wrestling world to guide the young boys. He had much to offer them."

"He would have made a good teacher. He could have made a difference with our young men."

"I wanted us to go to college and then get our doctorates together. We've always made decisions like this as one. But this time . . . he said no. Thunder wanted to live his life without me telling him what to do. I offered to stay and continue to be his trainer. He told me to go and live my life the way I wanted. He didn't want me there."

"That is when you returned and immediately went back to school? Why did you not come and talk to me? I did not understand why my togquos were not together. Twins should stay together. Everyone noticed because you were never apart. Twenty-eight years and suddenly you did not talk to each other. It made my heart heavy and your mother cry."

"I am sorry we did that, father. Now I think I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"He caused that fight so I would leave. He found out something and knew it was dangerous. He didn't want me to get involved . . . because he thought it might get me killed."

"I think you are right, my son. It would be the only reason he did not want you with him. He loved you very much."

"I wish I had realized it then. If only I had pressed him. I could have gotten him to tell me what was going on, I always could. I was angry he took Nuttah from the family and kept her in Florida . . . I . . . am ashamed to admit I envied him for having a daughter. She is like my daughter, too. When he took her away . . . I told him I wouldn't talk to him until he returned her to the family."

"You told Thunder that? You had no right to say such a thing. She is his daughter. I wanted Nuttah here with us in Montana, too. But . . . he wanted her with him. That was his right, Mingan."

"I know, but I was so angry with him. He never brought her here for holidays. Mother was heartbroken and . . . he could have tried being a part of our lives. I . . . didn't hear from him in over a year . . . until the week before he died."

"Kichi called you?"

"Yes. I was guiding a tour group to the First People's Piskun near Belt as part of my dissertation. I noticed Thunder had left a message . . . and I meant to call him back that night. But, I was studying for my finals and didn't think of it until around one in the morning. I decided I'd call the next day. I got your call first, telling me . . . he was dead."

"You have any idea what he wanted to tell you?"

"Not the slightest clue." Mingan jumped off the gate. "That's why I'm going to replace Thunder on the wrestling tour."

"What if they don't let you?"

"Oh, they will. His murder is headline news all over the world. I'm a novelty . . . a curiosity. It will make millions for the owners. They won't be able to resist the opportunity."

"I'm not sure you should do this, son. I do not want to lose you, too."

"I have to do this. Thunder would do the same thing if it was me who was murdered. If Koko is in Florida, maybe she can help. She might know what Thunder was digging into."

"Her heart is as black as her name."

"I agree, night fits her perfectly. But I'll make nice to her if it gets me what I need. I need to win her trust. If you hear rumors about the two of us, know it's no more than a means to the truth."

"You be careful. She was very angry with Thunder and our whole family when he was awarded Nuttah. She wouldn't even talk to your mother. I doubt she'll even talk to you."

"I'm going to ask her if she would like to come to Thunder's ceremony. If she says yes, I want you to ask the family to be very kind to her. We must make her think we hold nothing against her." Mingan walked slowly alongside his father toward the house.

"What if Koko tries to get custody of Nuttah? Your mother and I want to bring her here and raise her. We are old but we have a lot of family to help us."

"Koko is still on probation for three DUIs. If she can't prove she's no longer drinking and can provide Nuttah with a safe, healthy home, there's no way in hell custody will be awarded. You and mother should file papers to get Nuttah temporarily until we find out what Koko's going to do."

"That is good advice, Mingan. You . . . must be careful."

"How is Ahanu handling Thunders death?"

"We named your brother He Laughs because he was the happiest baby we'd ever seen. Now he is a very angry young man. We should renamed him Sokw."

"You wouldn't name your son Sour, would you? He has every right to be hurt, angry, and sour. His brother has been murdered. It's hard to handle such a thing at seventeen. Hell, it's even hard to handle at twenty-eight."

"Well he's fighting with everyone. I put him in charge of bringing Thunder's belongings here. Thought it would give him something constructive to do. He's taking a group of friends and they'll have everything here before Thunder's ceremony. We'll store his belongings in the workshop until we decided what to do with them."

"Father, Thunder's apartment will be a crime scene. They can't just go there and take his things." Mingan sat down on the top step of the front porch. Several large cottonwoods shaded them.

"We do not have to follow napikwan procedures. His murder will be solved by our people. We do not need—"

"Yes we do need. We need the expertise of the Florida police. We need their databases and we need their man power. They know the area and they may even know what is going on. If we are going to solve this murder, we need everything they can dig up. We may not want them poking into our business, but it's a small price to pay – for the truth."

"I'm not so sure you are right, Mingan. We have our ways."

"Yes, we do. But that is here in Montana. We are at a disadvantage in Florida. There is a lot of evil there. Have you spoken to Kanti?"

"Mother spoke with your sister last night. She is flying home right away from Australia. She had just finished a fashion shoot there. She is heartbroken."

"I'm sure she is. I wish I could spare her the pain. Tell me something, why were you and mother so hard on Thunder, but not on Kanti?" Mingan accepted a bottle of water from his mother. "Thank you."

"Why would you ask such a question?"

He shot a surprised glance upward. She rarely made comment on a conversation what wasn't hers. "Because we all have been supportive of Kanti's modeling career among the napikwan, but not Thunder's wrestling career. Why is that?"

"Kanti has stayed true to her Blackfeet people. She always comes home and remains a part of the family. Kitchi cut all ties with us, including you. I will never understand why."

"Maybe when I find out who killed him . . . it will answer why he stayed away so long. I don't think it was us or shame of being Blackfeet. If that were the case he wouldn't promote himself as the Blackfeet warrior fighter. He would not encourage Nuttah to learn the dance and ways of her people. There are reasons for what he's done . . . and I'm going to find out what they are."

"And get yourself killed, too? Put those foolish notions right out of your mind. You go get Nuttah and bring her to us. Do that . . . and nothing more."

"Are you saying you don't want to know who and why someone killed your son?"

"It will not bring him back. I do not want to lose you, too."

"This isn't like you. It's not like either of you. Have you been threatened?" Mingan noticed the spread of red creep across her cheeks. "Tell me."

"Mingan, we did not want to tell you this just yet." Huritt Keme walked across the porch and sat on a swing suspended by thick horsehair ropes. "The day after Thunder was murdered mother received a phone call."

"Mother?" Mingan stood and crossed the porch and sat in a wicker chair across from his father.

Sinopa handed Huritt a bottle of water and sat down next to him on the swing. "I do not know who it was. The voice was muddled and deep. He said if we try to interfere with Thunder's police investigation the same could happen to our other children."

"Did you tell the police?"

"No," Sinopa shouted. "We will not do anything to endanger our children. You must not go to Florida. We have lost one son and that is enough."

"I'm sorry mother, but I have to put Thunder's death right. Ahanu is still in school and you can make sure he has someone with him all the time. You should ask Kanti if she will stay with you awhile, that you need her."

"We should tell them about the threat," Huritt said.

"We should tell them nothing. Kanti is too young to be worrying about this kind of thing. Ahanu is too stubborn to stay home and act like nothing has happened. You tell her the truth and she'll be on the next flight to Florida. I don't need to worry about keeping her safe."

"Mingan is right, mother. Unless we are faced with no alternative, we will tell no one but Thunder about the phone call."

"Was that everything the caller said?" Mingan watched his mother carefully.

"I asked who was speaking and why they were threatening my family. He said, no can do, then hung up."

Mingan drew in a long, deep breath, then slowly released it. "Think hard, mother. Do you remember hearing anything in the background like a train, or maybe a horn, or—"

"A bell . . . yes, I heard a loud bell. I forgot about that."

"You mean like a school bell or was it a trolley bell?"

"No . . . it was loud and short."

"Could it be the bell they clank between wrestling rounds?" Mingan leaned forward.

"That is it exactly. I knew I had heard it before, but I just could not place it. I remember because it startled me. It interrupted the caller."

"Was there anything else about the call? Did he have an accent or did he talk to anyone in the background?" Mingan waited while she thought the conversation over.

"I do not think so," she shook her head. "The call was abrupt and I was shocked anyone would call me and . . . threaten my family."

"Have you heard from Koko since the murder?"

"You don't think she has anything to do with this, do you?" Sinopa asked.

"No, I was just wondering if you heard from her. Father said she moved to Florida. I wasn't aware of that. Do you know if she saw Nuttah then?"

"Your brother called me on Mother's Day. That was the last time I talked with him. I won't ever get to speak to him again." She wiped a tear from her cheek. "I asked him if he was going to help Nuttah call Koko for Mother's Day. He said absolutely not. He said Koko didn't deserve the title of mother. She forgot Nuttah's birthday and remembered a month later. I'm not too sure Thunder knew Koko was living in Florida."

"What makes you say that?" Mingan asked.

"He said Nuttah made her a Mother's Day gift in school and that he was mailing it to her in a month," Sinopa said.

"If she lived there for over a year, you'd think they would have run into each other by now."

"Maybe they have. Like I said, he hasn't called me . . . I should have called him. Why didn't I call my own son?"

"Now, mother, don't you start that, Huritt said "We called . . . you know we called. His birthday just last month we called. He did not answer the phone. We left a message . . . like we always do."

"How I have missed Nuttah. Is that woman going to bring Nuttah to the ceremony?" Sinopa wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

Mingan swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "I'm assuming you mean Chloe Evans? I don't know, mother. Unless you have her phone number or address, I have no way of contacting her. I can only hope she somehow has found out when Thunder's ceremony will be."

"You sound angry. Why?" Sinopa asked.

"I'm not angry with you two, I'm angry with myself. Chloe was my brother's fiancé and I didn't give her the slightest chance. I didn't like her . . . without even getting to know her. She was napikwan and that meant she didn't belong in our family. I couldn't have been more rude or unaccepting. If Thunder had done that to me, I'd have punched him out. What gave me the right to decide who he loved and married? I told him I didn't want to be around her, and that was before they were engaged. I told him to come to his senses and find a lovely Blackfeet girl to date."

"You told Thunder that? Hurritt swallowed half the water from the bottle. "What did he say?"

"He said what he should have said . . . go to hell. The next day I suggested we change training camps. I worried Mamba Yamaba was up to illegal dealings and we would be wise to have nothing to do with the man and the training facility."

"It appears you were right," Sinopa said.

"We have always been able to talk things out and meet somewhere in the middle. Not this time. The more stubborn and ticked he became with me . . . the more demanding and unmoving I became with him. He fired me as his trainer."

"He fired you?" Huritt asked.

"Thunder said he was fed up with my trying to run his life. Just because I was the oldest twin, didn't give me the right to make decisions for him. He wanted me to leave him alone and go back to school and get my doctorate. I tried talking him into going back for his masters in teaching. We argued for hours. Finally he stood up, tossed his beer in my face and told me to get the hell out of his life. I haven't spoken to him since."

"That doesn't sound like either of you," Sinopa said.

"You're right, mother. I've played that conversation over and over again in my head, and it still makes no sense. He pushed that fight so he could fire me. He knew I wanted to go back to school. I could have lived with that . . . but . . . severing me from his life . . . that I couldn't take. I called him every day for over three months. He refused to answer. I sent him emails. No response. He shut me out."

"That does not sound like Kitchi."

"Mother, what sounds like Kitchi? We know he has . . . had a temper like no other." Mingan drank some water. "We also know that once that temper was over, he was always sorry and apologetic. I just knew in a couple of days he'd be on the phone slobbering all over himself trying to get me to come back. Not this time. I still don't understand it. I now realize I failed him. He said nothing . . . crying out louder than words . . . for my help. I didn't hear him . . . and now he's dead."

"How could you have known? We . . . did the same as you." Sinopa wiped at her eyes. "I want some answers, but I can't lose any more children. I would not forgive myself if something happened to you, Tahki, or Kanti. You must not look for your brother's killer."

"Mother, what you are asking is impossible. I have a right to avenge my brother's death. It has always been the way of our people. It is in my blood. If it were me dead, Thunder would be out there looking for the killer. I let him down in life . . . and I won't let him down in death."

"I understand, but I'm asking you to step back." Sinopa cried into her palms.

Huritt pulled her into his arms. "Your mother has no right to ask this of you. Her heart aches for a son she lost. She wanted you to find the killer, but after that call – it changed things. I don't want to lose another child either. But I do want revenge. I want my son's killer brought to justice – your justice. But be wise son. Stay within the law, I do not want you to spend the rest of your life in prison. It would be like losing two sons. Nuttah needs you."

Mingan understood his father. "I will find my brother's killer and make sure he pays for what he did. More importantly, I will find out who ordered the hit on him. I want to get the man on top and bring him down. I'll make sure they are either dead – or they rot in prison the rest of their lives."

* * *

Mingan leaned over his black cup of coffee. Exhaustion claimed him. Sleep just wouldn't come. Anger and loss consumed him. He looked up into Kanti's swollen, tear-filled eyes and bolted from his chair. He rushed to her and pulled her into his arms. They cried together, holding each other tight.

"Come, sit on the patio with me." Mingan whispered into her ear.

She nodded and released her hold.

"I made coffee, you still drink yours with that caramel creamer?" She nodded and headed out to the patio. Mingan placed the coffee cups and two blueberry muffins on a tray and pulled the patio door closed behind him. "You look like shit."

"Thanks. Might I say you look worse than shit?" She grabbed the coffee and sipped the hot liquid.

"I probably do. You just get here or did you come last night?" Mingan handed over a small plate with a muffin.

"I just got here. You know anything more on what happened?"

"No. I'm going to Florida the day after Thunder's ceremony."

"I'm going with you."

Mingan took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I'm sorry sis, I know you want to go. I think mother really needs you here right now. Why don't I go and keep you posted. I'm not sure what I'll find there, but you can be sure I'm going to find his killer."

"I can help. I'll go crazy staying here. I want to go with you."

"You have to trust me on this one. I'll accomplish more if I don't have to keep tabs on you. Mother is worried about you and Ahanu. She's fine one minute and the next she's falling apart. I don't blame her, but she really needs your strength right now." Mingan drank coffee and took a bite of the muffin, he tasted nothing. "When was the last time you talked to Thunder?"

"Just before I left for Australia, um three weeks ago. He sounded stressed and said he was onto something. I asked him what and he said he wouldn't talk about it on the phone. I told him he should call you and he said he would. Did he?"

"The day before he was killed. I couldn't talk to him then . . . and I never got a chance to. He needed me and I wasn't there for him." Mingan set the half eaten muffin down and sipped on the black, bitter coffee.

"How were you to know? I think he wanted to talk to me, too. I should have flown down to Florida to see him. Now when I think about that conversation . . . I think he was asking for my help. He needed someone to listen - someone to confide in. I was in a hurry to pack and get ready for this shoot. I remember thinking . . . I wish he'd hurry up, I have so many things to do. If anyone let him down, it was me."

Mingan waited for her sobs to subside. "Now we see how hard he was reaching out to us. We all feel guilty in our own way. I'm done putting my energy into wishing I had listened to him. I'm going to concentrate on finding his killer."

"Where are you going to start?"

"I'm going to take Thunder's place on the wrestling tour. I'll keep my eyes and ears open and I'll work my way into the confidences and friends Thunder made. I'm going to contact Koko."

"No, she won't help you. She's probably glad Thunder is dead. Did he have a life-insurance policy? That's something we should check."

"You think Koko has something to do with his death?" Mingan watched his sister with renewed interest.

"Maybe. I talked to her when she was shacking up with Machk. I told her to leave our family alone. She went out and got drunk and woke naked on the trampoline across the street from Teepee Bar. Rumor has it she made good money that night. The next day no one would talk to her. Machk tossed her out of his place. Next thing you know she's moving to Florida. Many thought Thunder took her back. I think she dropped a couple of hints that he had just to spite him."

"There is no way in hell he wanted her sorry ass back. Dad said she is with Brandon Schilling and if that's the case . . . bad news."

"You know him?"

"I know of him and have met him a time or two when I was training Thunder. Schilling would do anything for money. I'd be curious to know if Thunder saw Koko there. Dad doesn't think he knew she was living there."

"Dad and mother don't have a clue what he was doing. But that wasn't their fault. Thunder . . . should not have shut his family out. If he had troubles, he should have been honest with us."

"I think he shut us out to protect us. Something was really wrong and it got him killed. I don't think he wanted any connection with is family, so we were safe."

"Then you should stay the hell away from Florida. Thunder wouldn't want you getting killed after having sacrificed so much to protect you."

Mingan thought about her words for a moment. "There's some truth to that, but I can't just ignore the fact my brother was murdered. It's my duty to make the killer pay. You wouldn't happen to have Chloe Evan's phone number or address, would you?"

"No, but she called me today and I told her where and when the ceremony would be. I hope that's okay. Why do you want her number?"

"I wanted to let her know when Thunder's service was. I . . . I wasn't very nice to her . . . when I met her. I think his fiancé has a right to be at the ceremony. Thanks for letting her know."

"What do you mean – you weren't nice to her?"

Although his coffee was cold, Mingan drank it down. "You ever wish you could go back and behave differently?" Kanti nodded, so he continued. "Meeting Chloe was one of those times for me. Thunder introduced her to me just before our big fight. I'd noticed her a time or two selling shirts at the fights. She worked the memorabilia sales shop. Tiny thing with bright red hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. I have to admit, she turned my head. It didn't take long to notice she had eyes for Thunder, not me."

"That's why you were rude?"

"Old fashioned jealousy and . . . the fact she was a white girl. Don't get me wrong, I like white girls, but not for marriage material. We had an agreement."

"Are you for real? Mingan Keme, I'd love to knock that chip right off your shoulder. When I fall in love – I don't care about the color his skin is or his nationality. You better wake up and face the possibility Ahanu or I may not marry Blackfeet. Are you going to be rude to them, too?"

"No, I won't be rude. I . . . know it's wrong to choose a partner based on heritage. It was different for Thunder and me. I just wanted . . . Thunder and I agreed we'd both marry Blackfeet girls. I know it sounds—"

"About as stupid as it gets? Yes, I agree."

"I can't make up for rejecting her . . . but I can be cordial when she comes to the ceremony. She won't know anyone but me. I . . . did she say she would bring Nuttah?"

"Oh, she has Nuttah? I took for granted she was here already. I feel so bad for Nuttah. She loves her daddy and with Koko being . . . anything but a mom, she needs us more than ever. It will help mother to have Nuttah here."

"Maybe I should call Chloe and make sure she has Nuttah."

"I don't have her number."

Mingan wrinkled his brown in frustration. "You said she called you, right? Her number should be in your phone."

"She called me at the airport."

"How would she know . . . it doesn't matter. She should have called me." Mingan shook his head in frustration.

"Why? She knows you don't like her. Thunder knew I was going to Australia and I'm sure he told Chloe. It would be easy to check flights and have a call announced until she found me. I never thought of asking her how she found me."

"It doesn't matter. I'm glad she knows about Thunder's ceremony. I . . . have this feeling about Nuttah. I'd feel better knowing she will be here."

"What kind of feeling? Your feelings are usually right. You having good or bad feelings, Mingan?"

He noticed alarm washing over Kanti's expression. "I just sense she needs me. It is going to be devastating for that little girl. Mother will know how to console her. I just wish she was here with us." There was no way he could share his dreams that Nuttah's life was in danger. He heard her cries for help . . . something was more than wrong.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Three

Chloe leaned back in her chair and cried as the medicine man chanted over Thunder's urn. Her lone white chamomile slid from the tabletop and fell onto the ground. It reflected the untruth of her relationship with him. She wiped the tear from her cheek. A light breeze brushed her ear as if whispering secrets.

Mourners crowded in, surrounding the chairs of those closest to Thunder. Several Blackfeet banged on beaded, feathered drums. A lone fully-native dressed man played a flute. He wore his waist-length hair lose except for two thin braids down the edge of his cheeks. Eagle feathers and beads hung from the braids framing his face. The tunes wavered more haunting than soothing.

Chloe looked up and met the gaze of the flute player and gasped. It was Thunder's twin, Mingan, Gray Wolf . . . it fit him perfectly. He always seemed mysterious and a loner. She met him once and she could tell he didn't like her at all. He did his best to steer clear of having anything to do with her, as did his family.

For the first time she looked around and found herself surrounded by hundreds of Blackfeet relatives and friends dressed in their finest native dress. A truly impressive sight. They burned sacred sage and cleansed themselves before stepping forward and dropping an item onto the table with Thunder's picture and urn. These items would travel with him and be useful in the afterlife. It didn't matter if in this century they believed it or not . . . tradition was tradition.

There were only a handful of wrestling associates paying their respects to a man who lived only twenty-eight years. He should be alive . . . it was her fault Thunder's family suffered losing their loved one.

"Where is Nuttah? Why didn't you bring her to be with her family?"

Chloe turned around and faced Mingan. His dark black eyes held her spellbound for a moment. "Mingan," she looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Where is Nuttah?"

Chloe looked up and read his anger. Why did he have to come across so harsh? "Why are you asking me?"

"You're his fiancé . . . and Nuttah isn't with her people. We thought she was with you. None of us knew your number or where your apartment was."

"I was Thunder's fiancé . . . yes. But that doesn't mean I have Nuttah." Chloe flipped a handful of hair behind her shoulder. "We weren't living together and I never stayed overnight. We had an example to set for Nuttah."

"We . . . the family believed she was with you. It's been five days since his death. Are you telling me you don't know where she is?"

"I had no idea she was missing. I've talked with no one since Thunder's death. Except, I called your sister to find out when the ceremony was. I . . . didn't think the family wanted anything to do with me. Surely one of them has her. If I couldn't watch her, Thunder always had his neighbor, Phoebe Thigpen watch Nuttah when he needed to work out or when he had matches. Has anyone checked with her?"

"Do you know what she looks like? Is she here?"

"I don't understand this at all. You . . . no one has seen Nuttah since Thunder's death? This doesn't feel right." Chloe glanced over the crowd, right and left she scanned the faces. Fear filled her as she moved from face to face. "There," Chloe pointed to a woman standing off to the side of the crowd.

"Where? What does she look like?" Mingan asked.

Chloe rose to her tiptoes and pointed again. "There, the woman dressed in a black blouse and black slacks. She has short black hair and she's clutching a pale yellow-fringed purse."

"I see her. Does she have Nuttah? I don't see my niece anywhere, do you?"

Chloe shook her head and immediately headed toward the woman. Moving slow and deliberate, Chloe managed not to attract attention as she weaved among the mourners. She sensed Mingan following close behind.

"Chloe, I'm so sorry for your loss," Phoebe said in a low tone.

"Thank you," Chloe stood beside the woman and took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. "Um, Phoebe, when was the last time you watched Nuttah for Thunder?"

"Nuttah, well let's see . . . I . . . stayed with her the night Thunder . . . died."

"Really? Who came to get her then?" Chloe noticed Phoebe struggled to hide her nerves.

"Well, around two in the morning . . . um . . . you sure you want to know?"

"I'm sure." Chloe waited patiently. She glanced up to find Mingan staring at the woman.

"I . . . you won't like this one bit, Chloe. I was hoping you wouldn't have to find out . . . being his fiancé and all."

"Find out what? It's okay, Phoebe, please tell me."

"Well, Thunder . . . he . . . had been seeing that sleazy blonde . . . uh, Teri something. I think she was a dancer at one of those trashy nightclubs. Anyway, she'd come stay the night whenever she felt like it. She'd show up and send me home."

"So she showed up the night Thunder died?"

"Like I said, around two she told me she'd watch Nuttah and wait for Thunder. I didn't think anything of it."

"Did you see her leave with Nuttah the next day?" Mingan asked.

"You're his brother, aren't you? You look . . . a lot like him."

"Yes, he was my brother. Do you know who Nuttah left with?"

"No. I just figured family came and got Nuttah. Are you saying she's missing? Dear mother in heaven."

"We aren't sure. Do you know where Teri worked or better yet where she lived?" Chloe gave Mingan an uncertain glance.

"I don't . . . wait . . . she wore a jacket that had a wrestling rink sewed on the back."

"How about Tag Team?"

"That's it. I think it's a bar for wrestlers. Does that help?"

"Yes, that helps a lot. Would you keep this information to yourself? Please, don't tell anyone else about this conversation."

"I suppose . . . but . . . shouldn't I tell the police?"

"I'll make sure the police find out. I'll be seeing Detective Stueven later today and I'll make sure to tell him. Do you have a number I . . . he . . . can reach you at – just in case?"

"Sure." Phoebe tore the corner off one of her checks and handed it over. "My address and phone number are there. Will you call me when you find Nuttah? I hope nothing has happened to that sweet child."

"I'm sure she's just fine. But I'll make sure someone calls you when we find her. Thank you, Phoebe. Um . . . if you think of anything else . . . would you call me?" Chloe jotter her number on a piece of paper and handed it over.

"I sure will. I . . . don't think Thunder killed himself. He would never have done that to his baby girl. He loved her, you know."

"Yes, he did love her. Thanks, Phoebe."

"I'm sorry I had to tell you about that . . . trashy woman. I never understood why he was doing that to you. A man who cheats on his fiancé . . . cheats on his wife. I considered telling you, but I finally decided it wasn't any of my business and I worked for him. You deserve better, Chloe."

"Thank you, Phoebe. I'll let you know when we locate Nuttah." Chloe quickly moved to the edge of the crowd, relieved to have breathing space.

"If anything happens to Nuttah—"

"Don't even think that. I have no idea where or why Nuttah is missing, but you can be sure I'm going to find her." Chloe glared at Mingan.

"I'm coming with you."

"No, right now you have a brother to bury. You can be sure none of your family will miss me." She pulled out her cellphone and opened her contacts. "What is your number? I'll call you when I find her."

"406-212-2349, but my brother would want me searching for Nuttah."

"Yes, I agree. But right now your family needs you. They will not forgive you for being absent at your brother's ceremony. Go back to them and call me later . . . when you can get away to talk." She wrote her number on a piece of paper and handed it over to him. "Mingan, do you know what Thunder was investigating before his death?"

"He . . . called me the day before he died. I was leading a group of tourists at the Ulm Pis'kun First People's Buffalo Jump. I couldn't answer my phone. I didn't get to call him back right away. I received my father's call that he was dead . . . I didn't get to talk to him.."

"Didn't he leave you a voicemail?"

"That's just it. All he said was he needed to talk to me."

"You were here in Montana?"

"Exactly. I haven't been back to Florida in over a year."

"Since you and Thunder had . . . that fight?" She sensed Mingan's sudden discomfort.

"We didn't fight . . . we disagreed."

"Your parents wanted him to quit wrestling."

"Not exactly. But right now isn't the time for this conversation. I . . . have a brother I need to say goodbye to. Find Nuttah . . . and find her quickly. If you had anything to do with her . . . not being here at this difficult time . . . I'll see you pay for it."

"I would never do anything to hurt Nuttah." Chloe turned on her heels and stormed away. "I love her," she added under her breath. She didn't glance back. She could feel Mingan's glare as she walked away.

She'd get on the first flight back to Florida. As she hurried to her car, Chloe popped her Bluetooth into her left ear and searched the contacts until she located her boss's number.

"Bernstein here."

"Hey, it's me. There's a major wrinkle on my end."

"What now?"

"It appears Thunder's ten-year-old daughter, Nuttah, is missing."

"What do you mean missing? Are you saying we are now dealing with a child kidnapping? Jesus, Evans, what are you doing down there?"

"Thunder's family thought the girl was with me and that I would bring her to his service. Problem is . . . I haven't seen her for days. I hadn't been contacted by any of his family . . . and it wasn't easy finding out where and when his burial ceremony was going to be. They don't exactly . . . believe I belong among them."

"You don't. If they ever find out—"

"Bernstein . . . give it a rest. I . . . did what I had to. He understood and it would have worked out if he hadn't been murdered. Mingan, Thunder's brother told me they thought Nuttah was with me. Obviously she isn't. I spoke with the babysitter, Phoebe Thigpen. She told us that a Teri something was having a fling with Thunder."

"Did you know about that?"

"Well . . . no. I can't blame him for wanting some action . . . he certainly wasn't getting anything from me."

"So Thunder knew you were an agent? I though you hadn't told anyone."

"He . . . agreed to the engagement because . . . he believed I was being stalked by my ex-husband. I . . . needed his protection. We were . . . friends."

"You must have been more than friends . . . no guy is going to fake an engagement without fringe benefits."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Joel. I . . . we . . . get it straight - we didn't sleep together. You can believe me or not, I don't care. Now, back to business. This woman, Teri, came to Thunder's apartment and told Phoebe to go home, that she would watch Nuttah and wait for him."

"Why is this information important, Chloe?"

"Chill, Bernstein, I'm getting to that. It was the night Thunder died. No one has seen Nuttah since that night."

"You want us to do an Amber Alert?"

"I'm heading back to Florida. Let me make sure the girl is missing. I want you to check out a club called the Tag Team and see what you can find out about a dancer there named Teri. I'll call you back when my flight lands. Oh, and Joel, do you know what Thunder's autopsy showed?"

"He was . . . dead before he was strung up."

"I knew it!"

"Yep. They are guessing he strangled, then was hung . . . attempting to make it look like a suicide."

"I told you he was murdered. What leads are the police following up on?"

"They have charged Mamba Yamaba."

"Right, how convenient for them."

"Wait a minute. I thought you said you suspected this Mamba of being knee deep in Thunder's investigation. You change your mind?"

"No, not exactly. I think Mamba is involved in some serious shit here, but I don't think he killed Thunder. There is something else going on . . . and if I'm going to prove who killed Thunder . . . I'm going to have to figure out what he was investigating and why it got him killed. My only lead is this Teri. Dig deep, Joel."

"You got it. You be careful . . . you hear me?"

"I can handle myself, Bernstein. This may be my first big case, but I'm ready for it."

"Experience would be helpful. Why don't I send Dennis down there to help out?"

"Right, and that won't look at all suspicious. Either you trust me to do this . . . or you don't. I am right where I need to be."

"Thunder got himself killed. If you're not careful that's what it'll get you. I still think sending Dennis would be—"

"I don't need Mr. Know It All Dennis to come hold my hand, Joel. Give me a couple months. Right now we need to concentrate on finding Nuttah Keme. We find her and it just might get me inside the Blackfeet circle."

"Get yourself engaged to Thunder's brother."

Chloe pulled into the Great Falls airport parking and grabbed the paystub. "If I was a man trying to infiltrate a group you wouldn't have a single qualm about my performance. Get one thing straight right now, Bernstein. I am not interested in having a relationship with you now or anytime. Therefore, how and what I acquire in the field is up to me to approve or disapprove. You are my supervisor only. If I give you results – that is all you should care about."

"You get me wrong, Evans. I wasn't judging you."

"Like hell you weren't. And I expect you to stop it. Find out about this woman. I need an address if you can get one. Don't raise suspicions and don't mention me. I'm playing my betrayed fiancé card."

"Evans, be careful. If this little girl is kidnapped we have a Federal case on our hands."

"I guarantee you we already have a Federal case on our hands."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't have proof. When I do . . . you'll be the first one to know."

"Evans . . . you can't keep—"

Chloe clicked the Bluetooth off and tossed it into her purse. She'd never hung up on Bernstein before. How would he know the connection or lack thereof caused the conversation to halt? She pulled her single suitcase from the back seat and hurried toward the front doors of the airport. A quick glance to her right confirmed she wasn't alone. The man crossed the street and entered the airport at the far end.

Did Bernstein put a tail on her? Could he be Thunder's killer? Did they have Nuttah? Was he the same person who watched her enter Yamaba's Training Facility before she found Thunder? Was she imagining things? Chloe shook her head and entered the airport.

So what did Thunder find out that got him killed? Was Teri involved? What did he want to tell her? So many questions . . . and no answers.

* * *

Chloe pushed the front door open and dropped her suitcase. Things broken and turned upside down in every direction she looked. What were they looking for? Who were they? She dialed 911 and sat in the doorway and waited.

Thirty-five minutes later she watched a male and female detective head her way. Exhausted, Chloe got to her feet. "Hi, I'm Chloe Evans. I called you about my house being ransacked.

"Detectives Silva and Bloom, Miss Evans. You go inside at all?"

Chloe shook her head.

"Wait here until we have a chance to go through every room and make sure the perp still isn't inside."

Chloe nodded, and almost laughed. Really? They thought the perp was still in her house? It had been a long day. She waited impatiently.

"No one here, they did a good job. You'll have to fill out some paperwork and list anything that is missing. If anything of value is stolen, you can report it to your insurance company. You know anyone who would do something like this?"

"Silva is it?" Chloe noticed the woman wore no makeup yet had an attractive naturalness. "I . . . have no enemies. I have no idea why anyone would do this. I went to Montana to . . . for my fiancé's funeral . . . I'm exhausted. I almost didn't call you . . . until tomorrow, but I just couldn't go in there." Chloe wiped her moist eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss and what a terrible thing to happen at such a sad time, Miss Evans. Most likely someone realized you were gone and was looking for valuables to pawn. Again, we'd like you to check for anything missing. Stop by the station tomorrow and fill out a report. Ask for me and I'll be happy to help you. I'm sorry this is all we can do for you right now. Here is my card if you need me or something comes up. Be sure and lock your door."

"Thank you."

"I see you have an alarm system," Bloom said. "Maybe if you had turned it on, this wouldn't have happened."

"I'm certain I turned it on before I left, detective." Chloe clenched her jaw.

"Unlikely, since I called SecureTimes and they said no alarm was recorded from your house. Who else knows the code?"

Chloe thought a moment. "Only my fiancé . . . I guess now . . . no one but me."

"Are you sure?" Bloom asked.

"I ought to know how many people have my alarm code, detective. Thunder was the only person who knew it." She picked her purse up off the floor and pushed her suitcase through the front door. Thanks, I think I'll be okay. I'll stop by tomorrow and fill out a report."

"You have a good night. Like I said before, don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Chloe nodded toward Silva and totally ignored Bloom. She closed the door, locked it and quickly set the alarm. It gave her little comfort. Obviously someone either had the code or . . . they knew how to bypass it. She went to the kitchen and seized a chair then quickly wedged it under the front doorknob. She returned to the kitchen, grabbed a stack of stoneware bowls and returned, piling them onto the chair. Her college door alarm worked then, and certain should work now.

Exhausted, Chloe considered a tub soaking and some relaxing music . . . but she knew she'd never be able to relax in the mess around her. She wondered if they had tossed Thunder's apartment as well. She grabbed her jacket and purse and headed for the door. She smiled at the makeshift door alarm and eased it free.

Chloe stood outside Thunder's apartment and wondered if she should go in. It wasn't breaking-and-entering since she had a key. It felt awkward and . . . violating. She no longer had a right to be here. She needed to find Nuttah. Chloe slipped the key into the lock and heard the click. She ducted under the police tape and quickly stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She locked it.

Frozen in place, she stared at the empty living room. Where were all his belongings? She entered the kitchen and her heels clicked on the tile. None of his belongings remained. She opened the refrigerator, then freezer . . . and found nothing.

Room after room she found the same . . . the apartment had been stripped. No sign of Thunder and Nuttah remained. Chloe made her way to Thunder's bedroom . . . and dropped to the middle to the floor and cried. She was stronger than this. She was trained to put personal feelings aside. If she was going to find Thunder's killer – she would have to be objective. Thunder had said to look up when she needed him. She laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling fan. Was that the edge of a piece of paper on the blade?

A loud click echoed in the empty apartment and Chloe froze. She glanced around the room and noticed an attic opening in the ceiling above the closet shelf. She raced to it pulling herself up, clinging to the wire shelving, hoping it would support her hundred fifteen pounds. She eased the tile open and slipped through the hole, dropping it back in place.

"You check the bedrooms and I'll do the rest."

The deep voice echoed in the hollow space.

"Where the hell did all his stuff go? How the fuck we suppose to find it now?"

"How should I know? We check every square inch and report back. Can't do nuthin' about his shit being gone. You think Schillings knows this place is empty?"

"How the fuck would I know. It wasn't in the girl's house . . . so I'm bettin' it was here. We'd better find out who cleared this place out . . . and where they took it all."

"Check the bedrooms and hurry it up."

Chloe wanted to ease the ceiling tile open a bit so she could get a look at the guy, but reconsidered. He might notice it and reveal her hiding place.

"There ain't a stinkin' thing here."

She held her breath as the man entered Thunder's bedroom and clanked the blinds up and down. He stood just inside the closet and looked around. He pausrd for a moment below her and she wondered if he heard her breathing.

"What you doing?" The second man entered the room.

"I was just thinking if I was going to hide something in this apartment, where would I hide it. Are there any window air conditioners?"

"You watch too damn much TV. These modern apartments have central air, you idiot. Let's get out of here."

"I'm tellin' you . . . old school is not so stupid. Cops just caught a killer because some old fart used a pencil on a notepad and got a phone number that led straight to the guy. So you see, laugh all you want, it's the simple shit that gets you caught."

"Come on, let's get out of here. I'm sick of listening to your shit."

Chloe rubbed her fingertips into her forehead and her purse slipped down her arm, bouncing into the metal buttons on her jacket.

"Hey, you hear something?"

Silence filled the space.

"You're kidding, right? Crocker you're getting on my nerves. "

"No, I'm telling you I thought I heard something clank."

"Listen, dumb shit, we need to get out of here before someone hears us and calls the police. We could do jail time for bustin' that police tape on the door. We've been in every room and there's not a fucking thing here."

"Okay . . . okay. What did this Thunder fucker do to get himself killed anyway?"

"I heard he got nosy and stupid shit stole merchandise from Schilling's boss. You don't steal from those people. They don't give second chances. We got to find us that box."

"You think they'd kill us just for not finding it? What the fuck you get us into?"

"Shut up. Let's get out of the building without anyone hearing or seeing us. You feeling me?"

"Yeh, I'm feelin' you."

Chloe heard the front door click shut and she hurried down from the crawlspace. She had to follow them. It was her first good lead.

She pressed her ear to the door and finally heard the elevator ding. It opened and closed before she opened Thunder's door. The seals were no longer in place. She hurried down the hall and eased the stair door open, making as little noise as possible. She slipped her heels off and ran down three flights of stairs. She edged the door open only to hear the elevator door closing.

Glancing right, then left, she saw no one. She stepped into her shoes and hurried toward the apartment main doors. She pulled up short when two men crossed the street, heading for an old beat-up black sedan. The driver wore baggy jeans and a blue plaid shirt. Greasy black hair fell below the collar. The other man ran around the front of the vehicle and jumped into the passenger side. He appeared younger with a black crew-cut on the side and bleached white hair spiked on top. He wore a dirty, white sleeveless t-shirt sporting a picture of The Rock. So, he at least was a wrestling fan.

As soon as they sped down the street, Chloe ran to her car and pressed unlock before reaching it. She slid behind the wheel and squealed her tires while popping a U-turn. She'd barely driven a block before she heard the police siren behind her.

"Damn it! Damn it to hell!" She wanted to scream she was an undercover agent and insist they let her go . . . but she couldn't take the chance of blowing her cover. She rolled down the window with driver's license and registration in hand and waited for the cop to arrive.

"Good day, ma'am. You know why I stopped you?"

Chloe smiled up at him. "Yes, and I'm so sorry. I never make U-turns. I . . . I wasn't thinking. I . . . my fiancé's burial ceremony was today . . . I just wasn't thinking."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Driver's license and registration please.

She handed them over.

"Please wait in the car until I return."

Chloe nodded. It was useless to try and find the sedan now. If only she'd been able to see their license plate. She noticed the cop heading back her way.

"Here are your license and registration. In lieu of the circumstances I'm going to just give you a warning. Making a U-turn across a double yellow line is a hundred dollar fine. You might think about that next time you consider doing it again."

"Thank you, officer. Like I said, I've never done that before. Thank you for just giving me a warning."

"Good day, ma'am."

She waited for him to turn off his flashing lights and head down the road before pulling back onto the road. She turned at the next street and headed back to the apartment. No ticket meant no write-up that she had been near Thunder's apartment building. The police could conclude time and day – she had broken the police tape.

She had to go back and see if that truly was a piece of paper on that ceiling fan before someone else noticed it. She parked a block away from the apartment and followed a woman with a crying boy back into the building.

"They never cooperate when you need them to," the woman said.

Chloe smiled. "May I help you with those groceries?"

"You don't have to, I can manage."

"No, really I don't mind. Your arms must be breaking." Chloe grabbed two grocery bags from the woman's right arm.

"Oh, thank you. You're his girlfriend, aren't you? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that."

"That's okay. Yes, I was Thunder's fiancé."

"I didn't know you were engaged. I thought . . . never mind. I'm sorry for your loss."

"You thought we were dating because of Teri, right?"

"I'm sorry. It's an apartment and we see things. I'm not one to put my nose in anyone's business. My name is Janet and this handsome young man is Jimmy." She pulled her son against her waist.

Chloe smiled. "He's a cutie. It's nice to meet you both. My name is Chloe. I . . . did you happen see them move Thunder's stuff out?"

"That was something else. My apartment's right across from Thunder and Nuttah. I wasn't snooping, mind you. There must have been ten burly Native American teenagers here. Early the day after Thunder died they showed up with four trucks and trailers. They brought in carts of boxes and packed everything up and had the place cleaned out in hours. I've never seen anything like it."

The elevator opened and they moved into the small space. They waited for a tall, thin man to enter. The elevator door closed.

Silenced settled around them and the man pushed two. Within seconds he exited the elevator.

"Go ahead, honey, press three. That's a good boy."

"Do you know that man? You seemed nervous when you saw him."

"I . . . dated him once. His name is Buster Mosher. He acted so creepy that I refuse to go again. He slides notes under my door and leaves messages on my answering machine asking me out. He doesn't seem able to take no for an answer. That will be the last time I date a man from my building."

"Do you think he's dangerous? Maybe you should file a complaint at the police station, just in case."

"No, I think he's harmless. He's just creepy. His mother died last year and he said he was really lonely. I felt sorry for him and agreed to dinner. Big mistake. Oh, here we are. I can take those bags—"

"I'll walk them to your place. I have a favor to ask."

"Favor?"

"I was wondering if you have a small step ladder I could borrow."

"I don't understand."

"Thunder's brother told me the family left me a package of personal pictures they thought I'd like to have. They put them in a crawlspace in the closet so no one would take them."

"How strange."

"Well, not really. I had no contact with the family and they all live in Montana. They weren't sure I would be coming to his memorial service, so they left the package here."

"You didn't know them? You were his fiancé. I'm sorry, that's none of my business. Here, hold this bag and I'll get the door unlocked." Janet adjusted her purse and a smaller bag while sliding a key into the lock.

Chloe grabbed the heavy bag and waited. "I don't mind you asking, because it was strange. Thunder's family turned away from him because he divorced his Native wife and was now dating a white girl. They didn't approve of me."

"I'm sorry. Come on in. I have a three-step stool that you can use. Set the bags on the table there. Jimmy, go ahead and play in your room."

Having set the bags down, Chloe noticed the yellow stool against the wall. "This is perfect. I'll be right back." She grabbed the stool and hurried out of the apartment and crossed the hall.

"You won't be able to do that . . . oh, look," Janet pointed. "Someone has broken the police seals. Who would want to do that?"

"Didn't the Native boys do it when they moved his stuff out?"

"No, I don't think the police had been to Thunder's apartment yet. The seals went on after those boys packed it up and left it empty."

"I didn't realize there were seals on it. I guess it won't matter if I go in now." Chloe smiled, and unlocked the door.

"You can leave the stool in front of my door when you're done. It was nice meeting you."

Chloe smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate your letting me use this stool." She waited for Janet to close and lock her door before entering the apartment. Chloe entered, then locked the door behind her and hurried to the back bedroom. She opened the steps on the stool, kicked off her heels, stepped up and stretched for the paper.

She retrieved an envelope from the fan blade, dust followed. It sounded like something slipped off the envelope and she used it to scrap the top of the blade. A shower of dust and a small plastic pounch fell to the carpet below. Chloe stepped down the step-stool and quickly picked up the most beautiful diamond earring she'd ever seen. It had to be at least six carats, but what did she know about diamonds? Why was Thunder hiding a big-ass stud diamond earring on his ceiling fan blade?

Now wasn't the time to contemplate. She dropped the packet and unopened envelope into her purse. After slipping her heels back on, she slid the step stool back together and hurried out of the apartment. Placing the stool in front of Janet's door, she knocked once and rushed down the hallway.

"Chloe!"

She turned around, surprised to see Janet running her way. "Yes?"

"I . . . I saw that blonde take Nuttah the morning Thunder died. I didn't tell the police . . . because I didn't want anyone coming after Jimmy or me. A mother has to protect her child. I told them I didn't hear or see anything. But I did. I . . . feel bad because Nuttah is a sweet little girl and Thunder loved her very much."

"I won't tell the police a thing. What did you see?"

"Come back to my apartment where we can talk."

Chloe nodded and followed Janet. "Was Teri alone or was she with someone?"

"That's just it. Come inside." Janet grabbed the foot stool and hurried into her apartment. She quickly locked the door behind Chloe. "It was around two in the morning when I heard two women arguing. I looked through the peephole and saw that blonde and Phoebe standing in the hall. You know her don't you?"

"Yes, she lives down the hall and often watches Nuttah for Thunder."

"Phoebe and I are friends and that's how I got to know Nuttah so well. She and Jimmy play together so well. It's not like Phoebe to raise her voice. Teri came many nights and would send Phoebe home. Teri said she'd watch Nuttah and wait for Thunder. We knew what she was waiting for. I'm sorry—"

"I know. I didn't before . . . but I do now. What were Teri and Phoebe arguing about?"

"Phoebe didn't want to leave because she didn't know the man with Teri. She told Teri she wasn't going to leave until Thunder got home. The man told Phoebe he was Thunder's brother and that he wanted to surprise him."

"Did he look like Thunder?" Chloe weaved her fingers together and twisted them tight. She had met Mingan once and although he looked a lot like his twin, they weren't identical.

"I really couldn't see that much. The hallway is really dark. I'd seen Teri before so I knew it was her, even if I couldn't see her all that well."

"That makes sense." Chloe wondered why Phoebe hadn't mentioned all this in Montana. And Mingan didn't seem to know what Phoebe looked like. Yet, he was Thunder's only brother, so one of them was lying. "How long have you and Phoebe been friends?"

"I've lived here almost two years. She moved in about six months ago. We hit it off from the start. She even watches Jimmy for me in a pinch."

"Nice. We all can use good friends like that, can't we? Is there anything else that might help me find Nuttah? Could you describe the man a little bit . . . I mean was he tall or thin or anything?"

"Well he was a lot taller than Teri. He was broad across the chest, too. He was Native American."

"How could you tell if it was so dark?"

"He had long black hair and it was braided on both sides of his cheeks. I would have loved getting a better look, if you know what I mean. Your Thunder is . . . was a very handsome man." Janet gave a slow, sympathetic smile.

"Yes, he was that. May I leave my phone number with you, just in case you think of anything else that might help?" Chloe wrote her number on a piece of paper and handed to Janet.

"You promise you won't tell the police anything I've said to you? I don't want anyone to know what I saw or they'll come after Jimmy and me. Tell the police and everyone knows. I just had to tell someone . . . I don't want anything to happen to Nuttah."

Chloe reached over and squeezed Janet's arm. "I promise. Thank you for trusting me. I love that little girl and I'll do everything I can to make sure nothing happens to her." Chloe glanced at her ringing phone. "I have to take this. Again, thanks Janet."

Rushing out of the apartment, Chloe pressed the phone to her ear. "Evans here."

"They just found Thunder's babysitter stabbed in the airport bathroom," Bernstein said.

"Phoebe? Anyone see it happen?"

"Of course not. Get on the next plane to Montana."

#

#

# 

# Chapter Four

Chloe settled into her seat by the window. Part training and part instinct, she made a mental note of each passenger boarding the plane. If Phoebe had been murdered, things were heating up? She felt relieved no one sat beside her.

What did Phoebe know that was important enough to silence her? Maybe that she knew who took Nuttah from Thunder's apartment that night?

They'd been in the air for over an hour before Chloe reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope she'd confiscated from Thunder's apartment. Nothing on the outside gave an indication what was inside. She sliced the side of the envelop open with the edge of her nail and slipped out a folded white paper.

Chloe - I knew you'd figure out the look up comment sooner or later. I should have come clean with you, but you didn't trust me either, did you. If you're reading this - I'm either missing or dead. My main concern is Nuttah. Take her to my family, they will protect her. Don't accept their help – I don't want them involved. The earring is key to this whole mess. Find out who it belongs to and you'll find my killer, too. If things had been different . . . I think I could have fallen in love with you. Thunder

He knew? Chloe pressed her fingertips between her brows. How could he have possibly known? If he figured out she was undercover, who else knew? It was certain Mamba didn't know. If anyone at the WWE knew, she'd no longer have a job. The field narrowed as she moved down the list.

So they kill Thunder and try to make it appear a suicide, then why would they be stupid enough to kill Phoebe? Did they think no one would connect the murders – she after all was killed in an airport bathroom and robbery was suspected? "Robbery my ass!" Chloe muttered under her breath.

She should be in Florida looking for Thunder's killer. Surely Montana could handle a babysitter's murder. Exhaustion washed over her and her lids grew heavy.

* * *

Chloe never slept on a plane, except this time. Half the people had already exited. She unlocked her seatbelt and froze. She had tucked her purse under the seat in front of her. It now sat wide open beside her. She quickly searched through it, then under and around it. The note from Thunder was gone. "Damn it!"

"Lady?"

Chloe looked up to see a young girl staring at her. "Yes?"

"Is this yours?" she handed a paper and envelop toward her. "It slid down alongside the seat in front of me. I thought it might be yours."

"Oh, yes it is. Thank you so much. I was just looking for it." Chloe smiled and took them. She glanced up toward the back of the plane and caught a glimpse of a man she recognized from the apartment. She quickly turned back toward the young girl.

"You're welcome." She stood hunched over under the cubbies.

Didn't Janet say his name was Buster . . . Buster Mosher? What on earth would he be doing on the same plane she was on, going to Montana? Now that was a surprise.

She pulled her suitcase from the overhead storage and stepped in behind the young girl. Chloe refrained from looking behind her. She hoped Buster hadn't realized she saw him. He must have boarded before her, that's why she hadn't seen him. She definitely wasn't going to the ladies room.

She grabbed her cell phone and pressed Thunder's number.

"You find out something?"

"Well, hi to you, too. I'm back at the Great Falls Airport and I want to get together and talk."

"What the hell are you doing back here in Montana? I thought you were finding Nuttah!"

"I am . . . I mean . . . I—"

"I'm waiting for an explanation."

Chloe looked up ahead and stared into Mingan's deep, dark eyes. "You're here? Am I ever glad! There's a guy following me. He lives at Thunder's apartment building. He also has been trying to date Janet who lives across from Thunder. I thought—"

"Whoa, I don't know a damn thing you're talking about. Start by telling me why you're back here in Montana."

She pulled her suitcase over to a corner area facing the crowd of people coming and going. She sat and motioned for him to sit beside her. "You know Phoebe Thigpen has been murdered, right?"

"We heard it on the news. It happened right here yesterday."

"You didn't by any chance talk to the police?" She watched as he leaned back and tossed the long braids on both sides of his face behind his shoulders.

"Why would I talk to the police about her?"

"Are you kidding? She was your niece's babysitter and she came to the funeral—"

"Ceremony."

"Okay, ceremony for her employer who was murdered. Now she has been killed. Don't you think that would be of interest?"

"You think they're linked?"

"Of course they're linked. Someone wanted to silence Phoebe. I don't' know what she knew . . . but I'm guessing it has to do with who has Nuttah."

"So you haven't found her? What the hell am I going to do?"

"We are going to talk to the police. I want to know if Phoebe had anything in her purse or suitcase that would help us find Nuttah. It's been five days and we still haven't gotten a call from the kidnappers—"

"Kidnappers? You really think it's come to that?"

"Thunder shows up dead, then his babysitter is killed, and Nuttah is missing. Not a single family member has told the police she is missing. Why?"

"We like to handle things in our own way. I am going to find her – if it's the last thing I do."

"Right, but how are you going to find her if . . . you have no leads . . ." Chloe pretended not to notice the man looking her way. Buster Mosher wasn't fooling her in the least. "I want you to accidently spot a tall, thin guy wearing a brown cowboy hat walking toward the escalator. He's pretending not to see me. I want you to get a good look at him if you can."

"Is he the guy tailing you?" Mingan asked, still not looking toward the man.

"There's always the chance he has business in Montana and it has nothing to do with me."

Mingan stood and like lightning sprinted toward Buster. In minutes the two men headed her way.

"Mingan, you can't just . . . never mind. Sit down here, Buster," Chloe motioned to a chair next to her. "I think we need to have a chat, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here to see my parents. I don't even know who you are, lady."

"Nice try. You will answer a few questions . . . and if I like the answers, we'll let you go. If we don't, we're taking you to the police." She glared at the man.

"Why would you do that? I haven't done anything wrong."

"Get on with it!" Mingan growled.

"Tell us who has Nuttah and why they took her."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Chloe noticed he swallowed hard. He most definitely knew something. "You were trying to cozy up to Janet, why? To get closer to Nuttah? Did someone take the girl as collateral? You'd better start talking."

"Sounds like you got it all figured out. You don't need me."

Mingan leaned over and punched him in the stomach.

Chloe shook her head. "Draw too much attention and security will show up. You want security to come and help you out here?"

"No. That doesn't mean I know anything about the girl."

"What do you know about the murder of Phoebe Thigpen?" Mingan asked.

"Don't you be trying to pin that on me. I wasn't even here when she got killed. I don't know anything."

"Why are you following me?" Chloe leaned in close.

"I . . . I . . . a guy gave me a ticket to Montana and five hundred dollars a day to follow you and tell him where you go and who you talk to. I need the money, so I said yes."

"How do you give him the information?"

"He gave me this phone," Buster pulled a black pre-paid, untraceable phone.

"You just happen to live at Thunder's apartment. How long have you been feeding information about Thunder to his guy?" She glanced up at Mingan. "Don't think about lying because if you do . . . you won't live to spend that money."

"You can't threaten me like this. I've done nothing wrong."

"Answer my question."

"I . . . I moved in to keep tabs on the guy."

"The guy happens to have been my fiancé . . . so be careful, Buster. Who hired you to watch Thunder?"

"I don't know who he is. I even tried finding out. He pays for my rent in cash."

"Why is he having you follow me?"

"I don't know."

"What did you tell this guy about my brother?" Mingan asked.

"He . . . he was going to Africa in two weeks."

"Like hell he was. Thunder wouldn't have even considered going to Africa. Where in Africa?" Mingan pulled his hair tight behind his head, then let it go.

"I don't know. It was all in a fancy wooden box."

"What was all in that box?" Chloe drew in a breath.

"His ticket, contacts with phone numbers and gold."

"What the hell? Gold? What do you mean gold?" Mingan grabbed Buster's jacket and pulled him to within inches of his face.

"Calm down, we don't want to draw attention," she whispered.

"There was at least ten chunks of melted gold medallions in that box. I saw them with my own eyes."

"What would Thunder be doing with that?" Mingan released his hold on Buster.

"Money. Best money for buying information you can get. You happen to see where in Africa he was going?" Chloe didn't expect much from Buster.

"I . . . think the ticket said Nairobi, Kenya."

"You're full of shit! Thunder would not go to Africa," Mingan said.

"Why are you so sure of that?"

"The place scared him. They wanted him to go help deliver nets for malaria and he refused. Said that was the last place on earth he'd go to. If there's one thing I know, Thunder would not be going to no Kenya."

Chloe drew in a breath. Why did nothing seem to fit? "You lying to us, Buster?"

"No . . . I mean . . . I'm sure that's what I saw."

"Where did you see this box and shit?"

"It was in his locker at the training center . . . I swear."

"Damn it, I never thought about looking in his locker." Chloe pressed her fingers into her forehead. "I'm sure the police have gone through it by now . . . maybe even Mamba thought of cleaning it out before the police got there. He's such a sleaze."

"You're telling us you saw at least ten pieces of gold medallions in this box and you didn't take any of them? I'm finding that hard to believe."

"I didn't dare. You don't mess with these people or you end up dead. I guess your Thunder found that out the hard way, huh?"

Mingan elbowed Buster in the chest. "You don't mess with us either."

Buster rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand. "Damn, that hurt."

"So tell me, Buster," Chloe leaned toward him. "What exactly are these people dealing with? I'm sure you've heard at least rumors about what's going on."

"Listen guys, I don't know shit. I follow . . . or did follow Thunder and reported what he was doing."

"You haven't really told us what he was doing. Start talking . . . or we'll take a drive to the res and a couple of my buddies will interrogate you. I might warn you, they don't have any tolerance for bullshit but they do have a high tolerance for your pain. You get my meaning?" Mingan stood, walked a few steps away, then turned around and stomped back, dropping hard in the chair next to Buster.

"Okay, I get you're pissed. But . . . if I tell you anything - I can count the hours I live. You don't seem to understand . . . they have eyes and ears everywhere. They know I'm the one who followed Thunder. He's dead. I have to be careful."

"What do you know about Nuttah? You know who has her, don't you?" Chloe waited while Buster squirmed in his chair.

"I only know that Teri went to the apartment that night to . . . spend some time with Thunder. Some Indian guy was there. They were fighting in the hallway and then Phoebe went back to her place."

"That was the night my brother was killed, right?"

"Yep. I knew Thunder was training, so I decided to go there."

"You were there?" Chloe nearly choked on the words.

"Didn't see anything, if that's what you're hopin' for. I got there about three minutes before you. I was just going to do some window peeking when I saw you drive up. I hung back in the row of trees. I saw you look around. You could feel me, couldn't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Buster. I heard you, there's a big difference."

"The police showed up so I got the hell out of there."

"You're saying you know nothing about Nuttah's abduction? Somehow I don't think you're telling us everything," Chloe said.

"Let's go." Mingan stood and grabbed Buster's arm and twisted it up behind him.

"Where you taking me? I'm not going anywhere with you."

"That's where you're mistaken. I promised you a ride to Blackfeet country. They don't have mercy when it comes to one of their own being hurt. Nuttah is ten years old. You'll talk."

"What they going to do to me?"

Chloe sat back and watched Mingan work.

"If they decide to follow the actions of my ancestors, I'd guess they'll skin you inch-by-inch."

"What the fuck! They can't do that!"

"Listen Buster, I don't like it any more than you do. It's barbaric and lacks finesse, but you got to admit, it gets results. I need to find my niece and my brother's killer. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Rot in hell!"

"Most likely, but not until I find Nuttah. So, are you going to talk to us or should we take a road trip?" Mingan tightened his grip and Buster winced.

"That . . . Indian and Teri took the girl. Phoebe was there and she knew if she talked, they'd kill her. Someone must have thought she wasn't to be trusted. Probably after she talked to the two of you at the ceremony."

"You were there?" Chloe realized she hadn't noticed. Was Bernstein right about her being in over her head? She should have noticed Buster.

"You bet your ass I was there. You had no clue did you? I was following you, but I don't know who was tailing Phoebe. My guess is once you talked to her, you signed her death warrant."

"This Indian, you ever see him before?" Mingan asked.

"How would I know, you all look alike." Buster's loud laugh filled the waiting room.

Mingan put pressure on Buster's arm and he stopped. "Fuck you. Looks like we're going for a drive."

"Okay . . . okay. I'll tell you what I know."

"Sit down and behave yourself." Mingan pushed him into the chair.

"I didn't get a great look at the Indian, I was watching from down the hallway. They were fighting and Phoebe said she changed her mind. That they should leave because she was not letting them take Nuttah."

"You heard her say that?" Mingan asked.

"I just said I did, didn't I? If you're going to question everything I say, then I'll just shut up."

"You're getting on my nerves, Buster. Keep talking."

"If you ask me . . . I don't think the guy was an Indian."

"Thought you said there was an Indian guy and Teri. What are you trying to say?"

"I think it was someone dressed up like an Indian."

Chloe leaned close. "Are you changing your story?"

"I . . . I think the guy was wearing a wig. He . . . wanted people to believe she left with relatives."

"So they were holding her ransom to control Thunder," Chloe said.

"That would also explain why Thunder would go to Africa – nothing else would get him there." Mingan stretched his neck back and forth. "So why do they want Thunder to go to Africa? What is the underlying purpose?" Mingan asked.

"Use him as cover."

"Cover for what?" Chloe glanced over at Mingan and they paused for a moment. The unmistakable sound of a bullet connecting to skull made her jump back. She glimpsed at Buster and bolted from her chair. Within seconds Thunder stood beside her.

"What the fuck just happened?" Mingan shouted.

Chloe searched the lobby from right to left. She caught movement in the construction area across and above them. "Stay here." She sprinted across the lobby, heading straight for the stairs leading to the top floor.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? Mingan shouted.

"Call 911 and stay right there!" That was plain stupid. If the shooter didn't know she'd seen him, he sure knew she was headed his direction now. Damn! She knew better. She slowed down and inched past the entry door. She took a second to scan the lobby below – and she spotted him. A man with a white hoody pulled up over his head, carrying a long, black duffle bag headed toward the escalators.

Chloe bolted back down the stairs and ran full-force toward the escalator. She wanted to descend on the top bar, but it wasn't possible since a waterfall cascaded downward with taxidermy animals positioned throughout, some extending over the escalator railing. It was a typical Montana nature tour right in the middle of the airport terminal.

She reached the first floor within seconds and rushed forward, searching the line of doors, hoping to spot the white hoodie. She ran outside and scanned the parking lot. The man had disappeared. Police sirens blared, their lights flashing as they sped toward her. This was going to be awkward. She had a decision to make – disclose her situation or spend the afternoon at police headquarters trying to say nothing.

She turned around and rushed back into the lobby and up the escalator. Buster remained in his chair, a single trickle of blood rolled down his forehead from the impact wound. Mingan? She glanced around frantically searching for him. She spotted him at the ticket counter and grabbed her suitcase and hurried toward him. She didn't look back.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to Florida to find Nuttah and get some answers. What are you doing?"

Chloe thought for a moment. "Looks like I'm going to Florida. You do realize we should stay with Buster and talk to the police, right?"

"Why? We don't have anything to tell them. We don't know who shot him or why. Saying nothing will cost us a day." He grabbed his ticket and walked away.

She knew Mingan was right, but leaving the scene of a crime was flat out wrong. "I need a ticket to Orlando, Florida."

"You're lucky, the plane is almost ready to take off. Do you wish a seat next to your boyfriend?"

Chloe smiled at the woman. "That would be lovely." She took the ticket and hurried to the boarding gate. Nothing was going as planned. She spotted Mingan already seated and headed his way. She stored her suitcase in the overhead compartment and settled in the seat beside him. "You do realize that every time we get a lead – they end up dead, don't you?" She fastened her seatbelt then looked his way.

"Like I wouldn't notice. Just means we're on the right trail. Look whose boarding the plane."

Chloe glanced up and spotted a tall thin man wearing a white hoodie settle into a seat at the front of the plane. "Interesting. Either he's taking a chance we won't recognize him or he doesn't know we're on the plane."

"Or maybe we're his next targets."

"Now that's a comforting thought. Mingan, I think we should work together to find Nuttah and Thunder's killer."

"I work better alone."

"Right, and so do I. But this is one time I think two is better than one. I was Thunder's fiancé and I love Nuttah. If there is going to be a ransom call to get Nuttah back – I think I'll be that choice."

"No offense, but I don't think they'll want to deal with a woman. I'm going to pick up the remaining matches Thunder has on his contract with WWE. If they tried involving him into something – you can bet your ass they'll try the same with me."

"Being a woman has nothing to do with it. I'm the next best thing to Thunder. I'm telling you they'll call me."

"And I'm his twin, what makes you think they won't call me?"

"You two haven't talked to each other for over a year. Yes, you care about Nuttah, but they know I love her like she's my own little girl. They'll be calling me."

"Don't be so sure. Nuttah is my niece and there's a good chance they'll be calling me."

"Thunder was asking a lot of questions that lost him friends. Which tells me some of the wrestlers are in on this . . . whatever this is." Chloe closed her eyes and rested her head against the chair.

"He didn't say anything to you?" Mingan adjusted the feather attached to his thin braid.

"No . . . but . . . he—"

"Spit it out. We don't have time for games here, Chloe. Nuttah's life may depend on what we do and how we do it. I'm not taking any changes that could get her killed. Focus and we'll get through this."

"Don't be rude. This isn't easy for me. I had no idea Thunder was in this kind of danger. I went to his apartment and everything was gone."

"Everything?"

"Everything. It's completely empty. But I did find one thing." Chloe reached into her purse and handed over Thunder's letter.

"What's this?" Mingan asked.

"It's a letter Thunder left for me on the ceiling fan in his bedroom." She wondered if she should have shared it with Mingan.

"Really? And, you're first showing it to me now? Damn, woman! The ceiling fan. This is getting to be a bit James Bondish, don't you think?"

"Call it what you want, just don't make fun of it. The note they said Thunder left as a suicide farewell . . . mentioned something about looking up for him. I was . . . lying on the carpet in his bedroom and noticed a paper on the fan blade. This is it." She waited while Mingan read the letter.

"Interesting. What earring is he referring to?"

Chloe dug in her purse and handed the plastic packet over."

"Holy shit!"

"Shhh, keep your voice down," Chloe whispered.

"Don't start telling me what to do. You do realize this thing might be six or seven carats and could be worth thirty or forty thousand dollars – maybe more?"

"Well, Thunder doesn't mention where he found it so it's almost useless. I'm starting to think this is all about blood diamonds. We need to find a good safe place for that thing. Wait a minute . . . there might be DNA on the earring post. I haven't taken it out of the packet so . . . it's not contaminated."

"You trust the police, because I'm telling you right now – I don't? Thunder was an Indian and I don't think they give a shit he was murdered."

"It's all about Native American versus napikwan to you – isn't it?" She glared at him.

"Damn straight. Just look in the history books . . . maybe not, most of them don't tell the truth. I know I wasn't exactly nice to you when Thunder introduced us – and I called you a napikwan. I . . . could have been . . . nicer."

Chloe laughed and shook her head. "Nicer? You were downright rude. Your entire family rejected me without even giving me a chance. You want to know the real kicker?"

"Land it on me."

"Really – land it on you?" She rolled her eyes upward. "Thunder and I weren't real." She hadn't meant to say it, and now she couldn't take it back. Damn, this man got under her skin.

"What do you mean you weren't real?"

"Just what I said. We weren't really engaged or really dating. I'm going to be honest with you, Mingan. Something I should have been with Thunder . . . and I think he knew it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Chloe leaned toward Mingan. "I'm not who you think I am . . . and I wasn't who Thunder thought I was. I cared about him, but I wasn't in love with him and he definitely wasn't in love with me. We didn't even kiss. We would not have gone through with a marriage."

"I'm confused. Are you saying you used him? You were his fiancé but not really?"

"He used me, too. That about sums it up. I couldn't be totally honest with him . . . he was in too deep. You, on the other hand . . . I believe you're being honest. You don't have a clue what your brother was up to."

"Damn straight I don't. Who are you, Chloe . . . or is your name really Chloe?"

"Yes, my name is Chloe. I . . . it's in your best interest not to know exactly who I am."

"Bullshit! You want to work together – we'll be on an even playing field. You be honest with me and I'll be honest with you. Either of us holds back or lies, this agreement to work together is off. Those are my terms."

"If I tell you – promise not to judge me? Give me a chance to prove myself?"

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

"Thunder and I were friends. I noticed you looking at me and I have to admit . . . I wanted to look back. But, truth is I suspected Thunder was . . . involved—"

"Involved in what exactly?"

"Stop interrupting. I'll tell you all I know and we'll take it from there. I had reason to believe he was involved in blood diamonds or he was trying to find out who was. When Glenn Dupare supposedly shot his pregnant wife and then himself . . . let's just say it looked suspicious. Not unlike Thunder's murder. The difference was the cops found two raw diamonds in the lining of Glenn's jacket. Obviously his killers didn't know that."

"How do you know all this? No . . . no don't tell me you're a fed. Fuck! Thunder suspected and that's what he meant by your not trusting him?"

"I'm not sure. I . . . told him I was being stalked by a former boyfriend and needed protection. He said he didn't want to be in a relationship right now. So he suggested we get engaged to scare the jerk for me and this would also give him the space he needed. Being Thunder's fiancé got me into the training facility without questions asked. I did a lot of listening and watching. Working in the shop for WWE gave me a chance to observe who chummed with whom. Were they whispering or acting suspicious."

"Were they? Was Thunder?"

Chloe drew in a long, deep breath. "Something is going on. I just haven't been able to figure out what. I would guess Thunder finally did figure it out – only too late."

"Why not be honest with him and work together?"

"You know your brother. It was his way – or no way. I tried talking to him and he just shut me out. We spent less and less time together. I often took Nuttah for the weekend. I'd ask him where he was going and he wouldn't tell me. Said it was obviously none of my business since we weren't engaged for real – he was right. It was none of my business. Except, I worried he was getting in too deep. He wanted money for Nuttah and I started thinking he just might be in on the dirty business. I couldn't tell him I was undercover. But a lie leads to another and deceit leads to more. Finally it was way too late to be honest with each other. Maybe if we had worked together – he'd still be alive."

"You just might be right. It was your job to serve and to protect. You did a piss-poor job of both."

"Right well, I'm not going to make the same mistakes with you. That's why I decided to be up-front and honest with you. Take it or leave it."

"I'd like to smack you for deceiving my brother and not protecting him. Wasn't there one time where you decided he might be in danger? Did it matter?"

"Of course it mattered . . . it still does or I'd be back at headquarters right now. Nothing I say or do now will bring Thunder back. I'd like to concentrate on Nuttah. We find her and I think we figure out who killed Thunder and why. I'm taking that bastard down."

"I want nothing to do with you lady. But fuck, I don't have a choice. I can't take the chance they'll contact you regarding Nuttah. I have to be there for her. I'll agree to us working together, but you screw me over the slightest and you'll pay dearly."

"Don't worry, I'm not the least bit interested in screwing you. So let's concentrate on Nuttah. I don't understand why I haven't received a ransom call." Chloe fought back the lack of sleep and struggled to concentrate.

"Okay, since you seem to have been honest with me, you should know my father asked Ahanu to bring his belongings home."

"Who is Ahanu?"

"Thunder never told you he had a younger brother? He really did close you off from really knowing him, didn't he?"

Chloe felt betrayed – then nearly laughed at the thought. She'd been more deceitful to Thunder than he'd been to her. "Touché."

"I have a younger brother, Ahanu who will be a senior in high school this fall. I have a younger sister by two years who is a model. Her name is Kanti."

"He told me you were his only sibling and then admitted just a month ago that he had a sister. I overhead him talking to her on the phone, and asked him about her. Sings is a beautiful name."

"You speak Blackfeet?"

"I don't know if you'd say I speak Blackfeet, but yes, I've been studying the language for several years. It's hard to find books about it . . . and when I do find them, they are extremely confusing. I . . . I was hoping to impress your family with my knowledge of the language and traditions of the Blackfeet. But, Thunder never asked me to meet them. He said you disapproved of me and so did the family. He said that suited him just fine, because he didn't want anyone trying to contact him right now."

"Did he say why?"

"He said it was none of my business. He said he was considering sending Nuttah to live with your parents."

"How long ago was that?"

"The day before he was killed. I could tell something had changed. He appeared uptight and nervous – more than usual thatis. I knew he'd either found out what he was searching for . . . or he was a participant and was uptight before the mission. I was hoping it was the first."

"You didn't think to ask him?"

"Don't be snip with me. Of course I asked him what was wrong. He said he'd talked to Koko and she always put him in a mood."

"He actually said it was Koko that had him in a mood?"

"I guess you're familiar with his moods, huh? I thought he said that to brush me off. They were divorced so there wasn't that much she could do to him."

"She is living in Florida.

Chloe sat up straight and shook the cobwebs off. "He never told me. That puts a different light on the whole thing."

"What do you mean?"

"How would Koko put Thunder on edge? I'll give you one guess."

"She wanted custody of Nuttah."

Chloe nodded. "Exactly. So why? What reason would she—"

"Money. Koko wants one thing – the green stuff."

They landed in Orlando and Chloe led the way to her car. She dropped her bag in the trunk and tossed him the keys. "I'm plain too tired to drive. You're welcome to my couch, what do you say?"

He nodded and slid behind the wheel.

Chloe's phone rang and she quickly pulled it out of her purse. "Evans."

"Check your messages." The caller hung up.

"What?" Mingan asked.

"An electronic voice told me to check my messages." She quickly pressed messages. "It says . . . dear God!"

"What . . . what does it say?"

"Want to see Nuttah? Be at Warren Park. Noon tomorrow. Come alone. No police."

#

#

# 

# Chapter Five

"Obviously your cover isn't blown. This is the moment we've been waiting for." Mingan pulled into Chloe's garage. He couldn't help liking her and he didn't want to. She should have been there for Thunder . . . but then . . . so should have he.

"No this isn't what we've been waiting for. I was hoping Koko would make a grand appearance with the child. This is serious and we need to call in the FBI."

"You're the FBI, aren't you?"

"Yes, but this is a different division. They're trained to deal with this type of situation. We are not."

"Fuck the FBI. They'll get her killed. We're not calling them - period." Mingan turned off the ignition and slammed his palms on the steering wheel. "Chloe, we can't call the FBI. Whoever sent you that message you has the inside track. He has your phone number and he texted you for Christ's sake."

"Right, but it's a Federal offense. I have to—"

"You have to shit! Who will know? I'm telling you the FBI will just fuck things up. You need to go and find out what they want. You call me on the phone and put it in your pocket. I'll listen to what they're saying. If it sounds like you're getting in trouble, I'll have your back." He hoped she'd be willing to do this meet his way. If she insisted on calling the FBI . . . he might have to restrain her until the exchange was completed. That might get him in a world of trouble, but he had no choice. He was getting Nuttah back safely.

"Maybe you're right. We check this out. If they ask for a ransom, we have to go to the Feds."

"We'll decide that if we have to. Right now we both need some sleep before we don't make it inside. I'm beat."

"I'll second that one."

Mingan followed Chloe through the utility room and into the kitchen.

"Damn it, not again!" she tossed her purse on the counter.

"What do you mean, not again?"

"Someone has tossed the place again. I feel bad because they've broken so many things and this is my aunt's house. She remarried and they're living in Australia. I'm living here to take care of it until they decide to come back. They hasn't for two years. Now this."

"Maybe they're searching for the wooden box Buster told us about."

"Well it's not here. I forgot my suitcase and I believe your bag is in the truck, too. You get them and I'll get you a pillow and some blankets. Oh hell, you can use one of the three extra bedrooms if you want. This place is so big you need a map."

Mingan laughed and headed for the garage. He barely saw movement when he took a hard blow to the back of his head. He staggered and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Dazed he caught a glimpse of a man running down the street.

"Chloe," he shouted.

"Yeh, what's up?"

"You see that guy running up the street? Try to spot what kind of car he's driving and even get a license plate number if you can. Go!" He noticed the concerned look, but her training kicked into gear and she was gone in a flash.

Half groggy, he watched Chloe nearly catch the guy before he squealed his tires and sped off down Seminole Drive.

"Hotdog!"

Mingan shot her a confused look. "I wasn't trying to be. I'd have chased him down myself, but he got the jump on me and clobbered me with . . . hell, I don't know what. Damn, it hurts."

"No, his license plate said hotdog. I'm calling it in. It might lead to the perps who have Nuttah."

"They'll need to know why and you can't really tell them that, can you? No, we sit tight and wait until after that meeting in Warren Park. How far is it from here?"

"Five or six minute walk."

"No shit? They know your phone number and where you live. Go through the people you and Thunder know. Who do you think might be doing this?" Mingan looked at his sticky hand and realized it was covered in blood.

"Good God, you're really hurt. Come on and sit down at the table and let me look at it."

He followed her on unsteady legs and dropped into a chair. "He smacked me pretty hard. I think we surprised him tossing the place."

"Drop your head down," Chloe said.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep. "See anything?"

"You have a cut just below the hairline in back. Maybe we should go to emergency care and get you some stitches."

"Not happening. Clean it up and pull it together with a couple of Band-Aids. All I need is a couple hours of sleep."

"It really looks nasty."

"Just patch it up already. He impatiently waited for her to clean the wound and patch it up. "Mind if I use the shower before going to bed?"

"Top of the stairs go right to the end of the hall. There's a master bedroom with bathroom attached. Help yourself to anything there, including the mini-bar in the reading nook."

"Your aunt rich? Damn it! Chloe, tell me you don't have a rich aunt!"

"I do. Aunt Francis is worth millions, to be honest. This is her house."

"Nuttah has nothing to do with Thunder's death. It's just a damn coincidence. They know you love Nuttah and would do anything to get her back. You have an aunt worth millions. Fuck! Okay, let's sleep on it." He noticed Chloe nearly fell asleep standing, listening to him.

"Good night, Mingan. Need anything just shout. I'll be on the opposite end of the hall."

"Okay." He followed her up the stairs, she turned left and he right. If he wasn't so tired . . . he would have actually laughed.

* * *

The warm sunlight on his face seemed somehow comforting. He bolted upright. What time was it. Mingan glanced at his watch. "Damn it!"

He jumped out of bed and ran out of the room, down the hall, then bolted into Chloe's bedroom. All prepared to start yelling . . . a glimpse of bare leg halted his speech. He followed the smooth skin upward, across a peak of hip, waist, and settled on the edge of her breast. Damn sheet only gave him the image of what was to be. He stood there gawking like a star-struck teenage boy seeing his first cleavage. He shook his head, breaking the spell.

"Chloe! Get up, it's ten already!"

She lurched upright, the sheet falling in her lap, staring at him half-dazed . . . her gun pointing at his chest. "What the hell you doing in my room?"

"Put that damn gun down. It's almost ten. We need to get ready for that meeting. Get a move on." Damn if she didn't have the most gorgeous tits he'd ever seen. He swallowed deep, then brought his gaze back to her face.

"You see enough or would you like me to give you a bit longer?"

"You sleep naked? I wouldn't have guessed it." He didn't mean to say that out loud. "Cover up or I'm going to look." He hadn't meant to say that either. He shook his head, turned around and walked back to his room, closed the door, then looked down and laughed. In his haste he'd stood in front of her in his silk shorts and a definite woody. He headed for the shower.

What was it about that woman? She caught his eye from the very beginning and she only had interest in Thunder. Now he knew why. She was a white woman in law enforcement. Two things he detested. When Nuttah was safe and he'd exposed his brother's killer, he would say goodbye to Chloe Evans.

Buried in thought, Mingan buckled his pants. The door to his room flung open and banged on the wall. He glanced up to find Chloe staring at his bare chest.

"Would you like me to just stand here so you can get a good look?" He gave her a stern glare.

"Oh, I didn't mean to hit that door so hard . . . or to stare. Coffee is on and I've started scrambled eggs and bacon if you'd like some."

"Sounds good. I'll be right down." He watched her walk down the hall, her cute behind wiggling ever so seductively. His instincts told him to run after her, pull her into his arms, and devour her full lips. Instead, he pulled his shirt on and headed for the kitchen.

"I'm nervous. You really think Koko would do this? Her own daughter? What will the family say once they find out?"

He filled two coffee cups. You drink it black?" He caught her slight nod and set the cups on the table. "I'm not sure what to expect. If Koko has anything to do with the kidnapping, I'll see she pays. She won't be welcome back in Browning, that much I'll tell you." He searched several drawers and found the silverware and grabbed two forks and knives along with two mats and assembled them haphazardly on the table.

"I'm not asking my aunt for a dime until I see Nuttah and make sure she's okay. She's only ten, but that girl is too smart for her own good. I hope she doesn't have an idea that this is all going on. It'll scar her for life."

"I wonder if she knows her daddy is . . . dead." Mingan cringed at the idea. "It would have been easier on her if she'd been at the ceremony with family. She loved her daddy."

"I never thought of that. My heart breaks for her. This is not going to be easy for her since she already feels like she's lost her mother."

"And she has. Koko isn't in her life and Nuttah isn't blind to the fact. That's why it was so hard when Thunder took her to Florida. The family surrounded her with so much attention and love that she didn't have time to miss her mother." He buttered the toast and cut in at an angle.

"She was very lonely. She really liked Phoebe, so I'm upset that she would have anything to do with ransoming Nuttah."

"Money is the damn devil if you let it. Sounds like her change of heart actually got her killed. Wish she would have told us more at the ceremony." Mingan grabbed the plate of toast and Chloe brought over two plates piled high with eggs and bacon. "That actually smells and looks incredible. But, anything would, since I'm starving. Tell me something, you ever work on a kidnap for ransom before?"

"No, that I haven't. My unit doesn't handle kidnap cases. We turn them over to the specialists. They know what to do . . . and what not to do. I still think we should have called them. I do anything that gets Nuttah hurt . . . I won't be able to forgive myself."

"It's my call. They know your every move. I just hope they don't know I'm working with you. That gives us an edge. That bright yellow top will help me keep an eye on you. If they don't bring Nuttah then you set up a new meeting. You won't negotiate until you see her."

"If they threaten her life?"

Mingan stopped eating and took a healthy sip of coffee. "I don't like this one bit. You won't have a choice but to listen. Ask them for some proof that they have her and she's okay."

"Listen, my aunt may have money, but I don't. I keep asking myself who would know enough about me to know this. Maybe we've guessed wrong. It still could be connected to Thunder's murder."

"That has crossed my mind, too. I'm just not sure that Koko would stoop so low as to—"

"Jealousy."

"What?" Mingan looked into Chloe's blue eyes – they held him for a moment. The way the sun shone on her red hair framed her porcelain skin. He hated to be drawn to her beauty.

"It's okay she has lovers, but she hates the fact Thunder is . . . was engaged. He had his daughter, a lucrative career, and was happy."

"No, that's not right at all. One look at him and she could tell he wasn't all that happy. I'm sure she heard from friends and her family that he hadn't been back to Browning in almost two years. I'm not buying this bullshit story. You're a trained agent and can't come up with anything better than that? Maybe you should either go back to school or quit altogether."

"Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?"

Mingan looked up at her and pointed his fork in her direction. "You don't agree? You think his ex was jealous. I think his ex was greedy and became involved with scum. They took my niece and are going to offer her back to you for a price."

"Could be you're right. What if you're wrong? We have to look at the facts and do our best to be prepared for as many scenarios we can imagine. So make all the cracks about my incompetency you want, we still need to get prepared."

Having cleaned his plate, Mingan spread raspberry jam over his toast and considered what Chloe said. "If Schillings and Koko were involved with blood diamonds they might need someone to bring them from Africa. Thunder goes along with a group of wrestlers to hand out mosquito nets. He returns with a stash of diamonds. Once he hands them over . . . he gets his daughter."

"Now they have Nuttah and Thunder is murdered. What they going to do now?" He washed the toast down with coffee.

"Ransom the kid and take the money and skip the country. But, that doesn't tell us who is at the top, does it?"

"Fuck!" I can't believe Thunder allowed himself to get mixed-up with this shit."

"That's wasted energy. We can't even go there right now," Chloe said. "To be honest I don't think he wanted anything to do with it. He must have found something—"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Chloe asked.

"I don't think he went after them . . . I think they approached him. They did their best to pull him into their club. He turned them down and then they didn't know if they could trust him to keep his mouth shut."

"Right. He starts asking questions, trying to find out who else is involved. But he's high profile and they have to be careful."

They fell silent, absorbed in their own thoughts. "What's this Warren Park like? Big or small, lots of trees or no trees. Give me the lay of the land." Mingan leaned back into his chair and watched her as he drank the rest of his coffee.

"It's quite small surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence which is covered thickly with some kind of ivy. There are huge weeping willows everywhere and a walking trail around a nice children's park. People have picnics at the tables and there is a large gate to the backside as well."

"We have no idea where they want to meet you." He stretched his neck first right, then left.

"True. I think you should remain in my car and park it near the back entrance. I'll settle myself on a picnic bench and wait for them to come to me. It doesn't matter where I'm at, you should hear the conversation, the park isn't so large you'd lose the connection." Chloe pilled the empty plates and glanced at her watch.

"We still have thirty minutes before we leave. I'll drive there and you walk."

"That's a good idea but I want you to wait a full ten minutes after I head-out before leaving the house. If they're watching, I don't want them believing you're going with me. They might not even know you exist yet."

"Unlikely, you forget about hotdog."

She chuckled. "You might have been a guy I just brought home for a drink. I don't think any of them know you're here – yet. That won't last long. You're not exactly inconspicuous."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Big Indian go home?" He clenched his teeth together.

"You said it not me. You really think wearing your hair like an eighteen thirties Indian warrior doesn't get attention? Of course you do and that's why you do it. So don't go getting sanctimonious on me."

"You just can't help yourself from pointing it out, can you? What did Thunder see in you that made him want to help you? No, wait a minute. He knew his family wouldn't like anything about you. He used you as his catalyst to stay away from home. You provided the perfect alibi to sever connections."

"So you're saying I'm everything your family wouldn't like in a mate for Thunder? That's a bit harsh don't you think?"

Thunder laughed. It's downright clever, if you ask me. Look, you're definitely white – downright close to being a staau."

"Great, now I'm white as a ghost."

"Exactly, look at you. Then there is that hair. Dang woman, who has hair that color?" Mingan reached over and before realizing it he had a handful of silky, red hair across his palm."

She jerked free from his grasp. "I'll have you know this is my natural hair color. It's the same color as my mother, grandmother, and even great-grandmother's. I didn't ask you to like it."

"In Browning you'd stick out like a silhouette on the horizon." He couldn't help chuckling at the image of her in the Tipee Bar.

"Are you done insulting me? Because if you are I think we should walk through our strategy for today."

"I wasn't insulting you, I was just pointing out the obvious. You have any clue Thunder was using you to create fiction with his family?"

"I didn't care about his reasons, they worked for him and me. Now I don't want you coming to my rescue unless I say the word fuck."

"Really? Out of the whole dictionary, that's your word choice?"

"Well genius, it isn't a word I use often and it certain wouldn't put up any red flags. What, you want me to say something clever like matwau? Screaming enemy in Blackfeet certainly wouldn't be obvious, right?"

"You can really be a smart ass, can't you?" Mingan got to his feel and walked over to the patio doors and scanned the back yard. Trees, flowers and a rock path led to an incredibly beautiful pool. He'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Chloe asked behind him.

"I'm not here to smell the roses." He turned back toward the table, grabbed his coffee cup, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.

"Now who is being a smart ass?"

He ignored her comment and faced her. "If they don't bring Nuttah to the park, we need proof they have her. Find out what they want and setup the exchange back at the park. Whatever you do, don't go anyplace with them."

"I hope you realize this could be a big mistake? You might be putting my job in jeopardy."

"Just don't get yourself killed. I don't need that on my conscious too." He knew he sounded cold, but there was nothing he wanted from Chloe past finding Nuttah and his brother's killer.

"Gee, I'll do my best to stay alive – just for you. Thunder could be an asshole and it looks like those qualities are genetic. I was hoping you might be a better version of the Keme twins, obviously that was too much to wish for."

"Let's get this straight – in case it escaped you. I'm not here to be nice. If I didn't think you were a means to get Nuttah back safely, I wouldn't be here. Once she is safe and I've settle the score with Thunder's killer – I don't ever want to set eyes on you again, FBI Agent Chloe Evans. You get my drift this time?"

"We've wasted enough time. I'm going to the park. Ten minutes and no sooner should you drive over. Take a right out of the driveway and keep going southeast. You can't miss it. Slink low in the seat and try to stay out of sight. When I'm almost at the gate I'll call you . . . then slide the phone into my pocket. Don't talk to me or make any loud noises or they'll hear it."

"Be smart." Mingan stood with his hands shoved into his pockets. He wanted to tell her to be careful and safe, but either might be misconstrued that he cared. He wasn't going to let himself worry about her. She was FBI and could take care of herself.

"We'll make this work. Just stay back and let me do my thing."

She grabbed her purse and sunglasses and paused with her hand on the door knob. "Just so you know, I did care about Thunder. We weren't close, but I do mourn his passing. I love Nuttah and I'll do everything I can to bring her safely back to her family. Just wanted you to know."

She hurried out the front door and closed it quietly behind her. He watched her from slightly closed blinds. Her walk appeared unhurried and relaxed. He glanced at his watch . . . the minutes ticked slowly. By the time he'd waited ten minutes he was ready to explode.

He grabbed the car keys and headed for the garage. The sound of someone working on the garage side door lock caused Mingan to move back into the utility room and hide in the broom closet. So they didn't know about him and were back to finish searching the house. He needed to get to the park – and be there for Chloe. Yet he wanted to get this guy and squeeze him for information.

Mingan inched from his hiding place and worked his way behind the intruder. The cock of a gun made him freeze in place.

"I knew you were lurking here somewhere. You think your girlfriend leaving would lure me in, right?"

"No, I was just leaving myself. What the hell are you looking for?" Mingan turned to see who held a gun to his head.

"Don't turn around. I'm sure you know exactly what I'm looking for."

"Save me the guesswork and tell me."

"Where the fuck did your brother hide that wooden box? Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about either."

"Wish I did. Fact is this is the first time anyone has mentioned a box to me. I hadn't been in contact with my brother for a couple of years. You might say we had a falling out. What's so important about this box?"

"I don't believe you don't know anything. It . . . I'm being paid a thousand bucks to find it. I don't come up with it . . . no money. Again, where the fuck is it?"

"Like I said, I don't have a clue. I do have an appointment I need to be at. Let me go and I'll let you continue your search without a word."

"Like fuck you will. I let you go and you'll be calling the police."

"I'm an Indian, we don't call the police." The guy laughed and banged his gun against Mingan's skull..

"You're funny, man.

Mingan's phone rang. "Listen, I need to answer that . . . it's important." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and moved the slide to unlock. "Tell you what, go upstairs and look in the closet in the bedroom down the hall to the right. I saw at least seven wooden boxes piled up on the shelf."

"If you're lying, I'll be back and I won't be so nice."

The intruder dropped the gun and ran past him toward the stairs. Mingan turned his attention back to Chloe. "I was detained . . . I'm leaving right now."

"Don't bother. They never showed up."

"What do you mean – they never showed up?"

"They never showed up. How hard is that to understand?"

"Be patient. It's still early." Mingan glanced at his watch and realized they were forty-five minutes late. "They're probably watching you and making sure you're alone and not talking on the phone with a second party."

"Fuck!"

Mingan hit the garage door opener and got into the car. "Chloe you there?" He squealed the tires and backed out of the drive nearly out of control, then shifted gears and raced down Seminole Drive. "Chloe you hear me? Chloe?" A dial tone answered him. He made it to the backside of the park within minutes and bolted from the vehicle. He glanced right and then left while running down the cement path. He saw no signs of Chloe's bright yellow top anywhere.

He ran the entire path before stopping at the picnic table closest to the backside of the park. Chloe's phone remained open on the table. He picked it up and noticed a number had been punched-in. Mingan pressed call and waited while it rang.

"Hello?"

"You're no smarter than your brother, are you? Now I have your niece and your girlfriend."

"What do you want?"

"Well, it's obviously not the millions you think I want from Chloe's aunt, although I must admit it is a bit tempting."

"Then what the fuck do you want?"

"Thunder had something that belonged to me. He kept it in a wooden box along with a ticket to Africa. I suggest you find that box and turn it over to me."

Mingan kicked the picnic bench and looked around in hopes the caller was watching from nearby. "You have guys already looking. What makes you think I can find it?"

"I have your motive right here. You want them to live, then I suggest you do what I ask."

"How do I know you have Nuttah and Chloe?"

"I texted Chloe's phone a nice picture of them together. Go ahead . . . check it out."

Mingan checked her messages and stared at a picture of Nuttah hugging Chloe. He flipped back to the conversation. "You bastard. You do anything to hurt either one of them and you won't live to regret it."

"You sound just like your brother . . . and it appears he's in no condition to follow-through with his threats."

"Listen you fuck. I'm not Thunder . . . but I'll see his threat honored. I'll look for that box but I need Chloe if we're going to find it. She's my connection here. She's involved and I need her knowledge to pull this off. If you really want this box you'll get her back here."

"We're still keeping the kid. You contact the police and she's a dead kid. You don't get me that box and she's a dead kid. I think you understand where I'm coming from."

"It might help if you enlighten me what this is all about. Are there wrestlers involved? You want results, you're going to have to help me some." Mingan grasped at the chance the jerk on the line would give him something to work with.

"Are you really saying you don't have a fucking clue what your brother was up to? I find that hard to believe."

"I don't give a shit what you believe. You're the reason I buried my brother. Don't think I don't know that much. Thunder's babysitter is dead and a man who was paid to follow Thunder is dead. I would guess you are responsible for that too. Which leaves me where?"

"In the middle of a wrestling war."

"What the shit you talking about?" Mingan sat on the picnic table and propped his feet on the seat.

"It's like the old days of insurance. You pay and you're protected. You don't pay and you could get hurt."

"What the shit you talking about? You telling me that you are making wrestlers pay for protection or they and their families could be hurt or killed? Is that what happened to Glenn DuPare and his family?"

"You're not as dumb as you look. It took your brother months to come to that conclusion. But then once he figured it out – he wouldn't let it go."

"What does this have to do with blood diamonds?" Mingan stretched his neck.

"Who the fuck mentioned blood diamonds? Where'd you hear that?"

Mingan cringed, pissed he'd made the comment. "I was having a chat with a fella named Buster. He mentioned Thunder was going to Africa to bring back blood diamonds."

"No shit! That ass wipe actually said that? Where the Sam hell would he have gotten that information?"

"I was threatening to have him skinned inch-by-inch, maybe he made it up. Hell, I don't know, but if that's what we're involved with – I need to know. I'm sick of surprises."

"I'll send Chloe back . . . a little damaged, but she's alive. She's lucky you need her, because I sure the fuck don't."

"Wish I didn't need her either. She's all mouth and a pain in the ass. I'm not sure what Thunder saw in her. But you can be sure she'll tell me what she knows. She's partially to blame for his death." Mingan hoped the caller believed his line of bullshit.

"Well I've got her all primed and ready for talking."

"She's no good to me dead." Mingan wondered why he cared.

"The boys will drop her off at her place sometime today. Let me tell you how this goes down. You fuck me, your niece will start losing fingers. I don't give a shit she's ten fucking years old. I won't be sending them to you . . . but to her grandparents. I'll make sure they know it was your fault. You feeling me?"

"Why don't we just meet face-to-face and cut the Rambo bullshit?"

"No can do."

A dial tone screamed in his ear. Mingan wanted to toss the phone across the park. Instead he went back to the messages and brought up the picture of Nuttah and Chloe. Nuttah looked unscathed and smiled for the camera. That was good. Chloe's expression revealed much more; fear . . . anger . . . no, it was neither . . . it most definitely expressed pissed. Good. They wouldn't be getting any information from that woman.

He headed back to his car, slid behind the wheel and drove back to Chloe's place deep in thought. As the garage door lowered he heard a soft moan. He glanced back and caught a glimpse of someone behind him. It didn't take long to open the passenger door and pull Chloe into his arms. She clung to him as he carried her into the house.

Mingan wasn't surprised to find just about everything turned upside down. He stepped carefully . . . trying to miss broken glass. He carried her upstairs to her bedroom and gently laid her on the bed and took a visual inventory of her condition. They had done a good job. Both eyes showed bruising as did her lip and jaw.

Gently he removed her bloody yellow top. She moaned in response and he cringed, trying not to hurt her. She'd be lucky if nothing was broken. It took over an hour to clean Chloe up and get her into fresh lounging shorts and top. He hoped she wouldn't be too angry with his liberties.

They'd have killed her had he not asked to have her returned. What kind of animals were they? They still had Nuttah, but at least now he knew she was okay.

Mingan covered Chloe with a sheet and light blanket, then settled down in the reading area of the room. He opened his phone and pressed send.

"Uncle Chogan, I need your help."

"You got it. What you need, Mingan?"

He knew he could ask his father's youngest brother by fifteen years, anything and he'd be there for him. Right now he needed that rock and someone he could trust. "I need a body guard, you interested?"

"Huritt told me you went after Nuttah and your brother's killer. Would this have anything to do with that?"

"Everything."

"Please tell me you've found Nuttah. Your parents are sick with worry about her . . . and you too."

"I'll purchase you a ticket online, just go to the Great Falls Airport and I'll have everything ready for you. Uncle, could you ask Machk if he'd . . . like to avenge his cousin's murder?"

"You don't need to ask. He would do anything to make up for . . . allowing Koko in his life and nearly destroying it. He knows it hurt Thunder . . . and you. He would do anything to heal the wrong he's done."

"I was counting on that. Let my parents know that Nuttah is well. I can't explain it right now, but tell them I'll be bringing her home soon. Uncle Chogan, bring my sacred bundle as a carry-on. I want the sage and support of my ancestors."

"How will it pass through security?"

"You still have doctor on your driver's license?"

"Of course."

"There is nothing that can't be explained as Native American medicinal tools and herbs."

"Got it."

"The number I'm calling you from is the best number to reach me at. Keep watch that you're not being followed."

"Has it come to that?"

"Worse. We'll talk when you get here . . . and thank you."

"It's my duty to help you if you need it. You never have to thank me. Text me the flight information and we'll be there as soon as we can."

Mingan hung up and gave the sleeping Chloe a careful glance. Now came the hard part. He dialed and waited as the phone rang. His palms grew clammy.

"World Wrestling Entertainment, may I help you?"

"Yes, I want to speak with Vince McMahon. Mingan Keme speaking."

"Oh, are you Thunder's brother? I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yes and thank you. It's very important that I speak with Mr. McMahon. Is he available?" Mingan drew in a steady breath and slowly released it.

"I will check, please hold."

This was the bewitching minute. Either he got in . . . or shut out. He had no clue what he'd do if McMahon didn't accept his offer.

"Oh, Mr. Keme, I have Mr. McMahon on the line for you, just one moment please."

Mingan smiled to himself. He had a feeling McMahon wasn't going to pass up a golden egg.

"Mingan, good to hear from you. Damn shame what happened to your brother. Thunder was a good man and a real crowd pleaser."

"That's why I'm calling. I'd like you to put me in Thunder's place for the remainder of his scheduled contract for this year. I would like to put that money in a fund for his daughter's college. I'm sure the public would find me a novelty – stepping in for their Indian warrior."

"Thunder was an exciting wrestler. He ranked right at the top. I know you've wrestled, but I don't believe you to have the ability your brother had. That could be a problem."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of. I trained Thunder and if you want the truth – I was always a better wrestler than him. I won't ask twice."

"Cocky bastard, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir . . . all wrestlers are. I would fight under the name Rolling Thunder. I expect you'll double your income just at my matches alone. I also expect forty percent of the increased revenue."

"That's impossible."

"Fine. Didn't think it would hurt to ask. It was nice talking with you Mr. Mc—"

"Whoa, wait a minute. I didn't say we couldn't discuss this. I'm willing to give you a thirty percent increase on extra revenue. How does that sit with you?"

"That would work. If you want to draw up the contract, I'll stop down tomorrow around three and sign it. Please have my schedule available as well as any other paperwork I'll need to complete."

"Damn, if you aren't one hell of a business man. I should hire you to negotiate contracts instead of wrestle."

"Not interested. See you tomorrow." Mingan hung up and stared out the window. He'd done it . . . he'd stepped into his brother's shoes. Whatever he was involved in would soon present itself. Mingan hoped he was ready for it. Nuttah's life depended on him.

"They said yes?"

He glanced over at Chloe. "Yep, I'm in. Welcome back. I hate to say it, but you're going to feel a lot worse before you start feeling better." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I can hardly wait. You do realize you saved my life – don't you? They planned on beating me until I told them something . . . anything. But, I really don't know a whole lot, so it was easy to say nothing. I've taken a few beatings, but nothing like this."

"You should close your eyes and get some sleep. It'll take a few days before you start feeling better. It might be a good idea if we took you to ER and had them check you over. It would be a shame to have you die after getting you out of there."

"Funny. I'm not going to any ER. Nuttah is just fine. She has no idea she's been kidnapped. Koko is there with her. I didn't see her but Nuttah said her mother was there with her. She asked about her father, but I didn't tell her anything. That means Koko hasn't told her Thunder's death either."

"Bitch! She talk to you?"

"She refused to give me the satisfaction. She wore a ski mask and was rubbing up against a guy named Brandon. They keep Nuttah in the back bedroom and barely pay any attention to her."

"You have any idea where they took you? It couldn't have been very far, since—

"It was one of those travel homes. They put headphones on Nuttah and played movies while they beat me. She didn't see me after they took that picture. Which I'm glad."

"I could strangle Koko with my bare hands. I'll see to it that all her rights to Nuttah are stripped permanently. You hear any names while you were there?"

"Brandon, Cocker, and Billy were the three that beat me for information. I think they finally believed I didn't know a whole hell of a lot, but they still kept on hitting me. Koko gave me the black eyes."

Mingan had a hard time looking at Chloe. "Did you learn anything that we didn't know before?" He waited for her to answer.

"You still have that picture they sent of Nuttah and me?"

"Of course, why?"

"Let me see it," Chloe said.

Mingan took her phone off the night stand and opened the text. "Here it is." He handed it over to her.

"Notice the background? It will prove this picture was taken in that travel trailer. It's proof of the place they held their kidnapped victim. Send it to Joel Bernstein in case something happens to my phone."

"Good idea." He sent the picture off to Bernstein. "Is there anything you overheard that would help us?"

"Brandon asked me what I knew about Africa. Of course I told him it was in South America. That's how I got this." She pointed to her bruised jaw.

"What other questions did they ask you?"

"Right, that works, Mingan. Let's see, Brandon also asked me if I knew where Thunder kept an intricately carved wooden box. Billy asked if Mamba and Thunder were close. Koko had Brandon ask if I knew where in Africa Thunder was going. Cocker asked who contacted Thunder about being part of a fund raising group. Brandon wanted to know if Thunder had ever thrown a fight for kickbacks."

"Anything else you can remember?" Mingan could tell she struggled to think.

"They must have asked me a hundred questions . . . and that's all I can seem to remember."

"That's okay. Get some more sleep and we'll talk again later. I'm going to clean up the place so if you need me . . . just yell."

"What do you mean . . . no . . . don't tell me someone trashed the place again?"

"Afraid so. That's why I was late coming to back you up. You no sooner left and this guy showed up and pointed a gun to the back of my head. He wanted that wooden box."

"It must contain something incriminating for everyone to be searching for it. I only hope we find it first. Do me a favor, look up my contact Joel Bernstein and let him know I'm okay. I should have reported in yesterday."

"Like hell I'll be calling FBI. When you wake, you can do that one yourself." Her eyes were closed and he doubted she heard a thing he said. Mingan left her bedroom and headed toward the stairs. His phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced down to find a text waiting for his attention. He clicked on messages and stared at a picture of Thunder being strung up at the training center. Mingan nearly dropped the phone. "You're next," he read.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Six

Chloe kept her eyes closed and relived her abduction, scene by scene in her mind's eye. What details could she pick up on - that would help their investigation? They wore ski masks so she didn't see their faces. That in itself was strange since they planned on killing her. Who told them to let her go? She heard another voice . . . a man sitting up front in the passenger seat, next to the driver.

She could see him from behind, but he was careful not to turn around. He was on the phone. Yes, that's the guy who was talking to Mingan. Did his clothing reveal anything specific? She struggled to remember. His hair flipped out an inch below his baseball cap . . . no it was more like a wrap . . . he wore a white beanie hat like . . . Africa.

She heard the door open and she looked up to find Mingan walking toward her with a tray. That was something Thunder would never have done.

"How you feeling? He waited her for to sit, then set the tray over her lap.

"Like a Mac truck drove over me twice. Could be worse – I could be dead. Nothing a couple of aspirins and some answers won't cure." She smiled, then winced as the cut in her swollen lip resisted.

"I thought you could use some food before the Tylenol so you don't get sick. I don't' care that much, but right now it'd be me cleaning up the mess and I'm saving myself the work. You think of anything else from yesterday you care to share?"

She wanted to laugh at his explanation, but saved herself the pain. "This smells incredible. Did the guy you talked to on the phone have an accent?"

"I couldn't tell because he used some kind of electronic gadget and everything he said was distorted. Why?"

"There was a guy in the trailer. I couldn't hear him talking but I remember him sitting up front with his back to me. I also remember he wore a white hat – but it was one of those beanie-types like African's wear." She reached for the coffee and winced.

"You think it was Mamba?" Mingan pushed the tray closer to her.

"I don't know. Mamba has a definite broken English pattern to his speech. But if it was distorted, I'm not sure you could tell either way. So we're back to square one." Every lead hits a brick wall.

"Not exactly. We have the white beanie. It could be important. I'm headed over to the WWE Training Facility to sign a contract to wrestle in Thunder's place. If I'm guessing right, they are working up ways to blast Rolling Thunder as the new attraction."

"You sure this is what you want to do?" His expression told her it was the last thing he wanted to be doing.

"I'm going to stop by the Yamaba Training Facility and inform Mamba I'll be replacing Thunder on the training schedule."

She nearly devoured the ham omelet with fresh salsa. "This is fabulous beyond words. I didn't realize I was so hungry. Aren't you having any?"

"I already ate mine, but I'm glad you're enjoying it. I held back on the jalapeños in case you aren't the spicy type eater."

"You made this? Damn, it's the best salsa I've ever eaten! Seriously. Better than my salsa. You'll have to share the recipe sometime. You like to cook?" She shoveled another loaded fork load into her mouth and rolled her eyes in pleasure.

"Actually, I'm not here to share cooking tips."

"Back to being a jerk, huh? Fine. If Mamba was trying so desperately to get Thunder to release his training facility contract, what makes you think he'll extend it to you?"

"He doesn't have a choice. Both Thunder and I signed that contract. It's legal and binding for me, too. He doesn't like it, tough. I'm starting my training tomorrow."

"Oh, shit, I didn't call into work! I forgot to let them know I've—"

"Gotten in a car accident and are bruised up?"

"Right, that works. I'll call them and Bernstein while you're gone."

"There must be an alarm system for this fancy place. You trust me enough to share the code?"

"I don't have a choice, do I? The code is 131313."

"That's . . . simple."

"My aunt had trouble remembering it so she simplified. Hey, if you don't know the code it doesn't matter how easy or complicated." How could he be so kind with breakfast and so damn aggravating ten minutes later? She finished the omelet and leaned back against the pillows to finish her coffee.

"Tell her in time those numbers will be worn and it won't take long for someone to figure the code out. An FBI agent should have realized that."

"Does everything have to be a fight with you?"

"Who's fighting?"

Chloe drew in a deep breath and released it. "While you're at Yamaba why don't you check out Thunder's locker? Maybe I should come with you?" She couldn't imagine staying in bed all day.

"Right, you can barely sit up and you want to go with me. You afraid I can't handle it or that I might not catch on to something important? Believe me, sweetheart, I can handle myself just fine."

Why did men believe their masculinity was being challenged? "That wasn't what I meant at all. Never mind. Go!"

"I'll set the alarm. Don't go anywhere until you're steady on your feet. You want me to get you some Tylenol?"

She shook her head. "I need to get up and use the bathroom. A bit of stretching will do my body good."

"Want me to make sure you don't fall flat on your face?"

"My ass is more like it, but no, I'll be fine. Go before your pent-up energy drives me nuts. Thunder use to get like that and it drove me insane." She stopped . . . swallowed hard and fought the tears that surfaced.

Mingan hurried from the room and she smiled. Smart man. If a woman looks like she's going to cry, head the other way as fast as you can. She wiped her eyes and winced.

With a little cautious maneuvering she made her way to the bathroom. She swallowed a couple Tylenol and turned on the shower. She stood in the warm beating stream . . . it felt incredibly good. She poured a healthy stream of eucalyptus spearmint shower wash on the loofah and drew in the relaxing aromatherapy. She definitely wasn't going back to bed.

If Mingan was taking care of the locker issue, then she would check Teri out. The woman definitely had to know what Thunder was doing. Janet said Teri were there when Nuttah disappeared. Teri had to be in the middle of whatever was going on.

Chloe looked at herself in the mirror. The makeup did a fantastic job. Very little of the bruising showed. There wasn't a thing she could do about the spit, fat lip. She had bruises all over her body, but once she was dressed, she looked perfectly healthy. She might look that way . . . but how she felt was a completely different story.

She grabbed her phone and sat in the reading area. She dialed and waited.

"Bernstein."

"Hi, Joel. Sorry I didn't call you yesterday. A lots been happening here."

"Yeh, so I hear. You left a man shot in the head at an airport? Are you crazy?"

"Now, Joel, you have to understand I didn't have much of a choice. I was following a lead and I couldn't take the chance of losing it."

"First I got my ass chewed from my division, then again after Anders got his ass chewed. Girl, you better have some good news for me."

Chloe could tell he wasn't in the mood for excuses. "Thunder's daughter was kidnapped and the same group grabbed me and nearly beat me to death. Mingan got them to release me, but they still have the kid. This thing is deep and is connected to Africa. Mingan is taking Thunder's place on the wrestling tour. My cover isn't broken."

"You okay?

"Yes, sir, thank you for asking. I'm following up on a lead and Mingan is—

"I don't care to hear what you're doing, I want to hear what you know. I need proof Evans. I got this fucking picture text to me from your phone. You and an Indian girl. I've been waiting for a ransom call or some shit. You have any idea what you put me through? I'm assuming this is Thunder's daughter. Why did you send it to me? An explanation would have been helpful."

"They took that picture from inside the travel trailer. It's evidence and proof they kidnapped Nuttah and me too, for that matter. If they say they never saw the kid, you have proof they're lying."

"Okay, that's good. What else do you have for me?"

"Mingan had a conversation with the guy who has Nuttah. He is looking for an intricately carved wooden box. Whatever is inside this box, that's what got Thunder killed."

"What do you think?"

"Don't know. It's big or people wouldn't be dying all around us. They want us to find this box and turn it over to them . . . whoever they are . . . in order to get Nuttah back."

"I'm sending you help."

"No. Whatever you do don't send anyone here. No police. No FBI. You send anyone, they will kill Nuttah. She's ten years old, Joel."

"Agents don't get emotionally involved. They do and it's dangerous. Separate the two, Evans."

"Yes, sir. I'll get back to you as soon as I have something to report."

"You do that."

Chloe called for a cab and slowly made her way downstairs. She was amazed at how clean everything was. Thunder certainly wouldn't have cleaned it for her.

The twins were alike and different in many ways. They looked a bit alike, but the similarities were more like separate siblings and not twins. Personality wise Thunder was the extrovert. He was also the loaded cannon. Mingan seemed a bit easy-going, yet stubborn. Most of his gruffness appeared to protect what was on the inside. Most likely he'd been truly hurt by a woman and now he wasn't willing to let anyone in. Chloe understood that one. Not that it mattered with Mingan, she couldn't wait for this case to be over.

The cab tooted his horn and she quickly scribbled a note to Mingan and quickly left the house. It didn't take long for the cab to pull up in front of Tag Team.

"You sure this is where you want to be, lady?"

Chloe smiled. "Yes, I'm sure." The place looked cheap and rowdy. She paid the cabbie and slipped into her light WWE jacket and opened the heavy door. She expected dark and dreary, but the place surprised her. The walls were lined with TV screens and wrestling memorabilia. Customer tables were arranged inside a wrestling ring. Strobe lights lit the place up.

"You want a seat at a table or the bar?"

"The bar works for me. Say is Teri working today?"

"You know Teri?"

"You might say that."

"Next time you see her, tell her that her ass is fired." The over-weight man's face turned red.

"So she hasn't shown up for work?"

"Not for five days. Not even a fuckin' phone call. I have a business to run here. She's good . . . but she ain't that good."

"Has anyone seen her?" Chloe asked.

"Hey, Chuck, you know anyone whose seen Teri?"

The bartender looked up and appeared a bit uncomfortable. "Naw, she's usually hangin' around here, even if she isn't working. Haven't seen her."

"She probably ran off with some rich asshole needing arm candy. Teri is a real looker. Nicest tits I've ever seen. Go have yourself a drink, I've got work to do. You see Teri don't forget to tell her she's fired."

"I'll remember." Chloe walked over to the bar and slid onto bar stool. The effort sent pain down her spine.

"What'll it be?"

She smiled up at Chuck and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "I'll have a gin gimlet with a touch of 7-up, please." She watched him make the drink. He flipped her glass and added ice. Then he added the gin and Roses Roses before tossing a lime in the air and catching it perfectly.

"Nice job. You should be working at Vegas where they pay bartenders big bucks for talent like yours."

"Worked there for a while. Hated it . . . too many people."

"I know what you mean. So were you and Teri friends?" She asked, hoping not to appear too interested.

"She showed up six months ago. The hottest cocktail waitress that's ever worked here. She loves the men and they love her. She started hanging on that Thunder fella . . . the wrestler they found hanging at Yamada's Training Facility last week. It's been all over the news."

"I know who you mean."

"You could tell he was hot for her. Some say she was his whore. I didn't even know the guy was engaged until I heard it on the news. Guess when you make the kind of money those wrestlers make, you can do what you want."

"Teri make moves on you, Chuck?"

"No, why?"

"You're a handsome man. All those wrestler muscles don't turn me on. Don't you wonder what they'll look like when they stop working out?" She giggled and Chuck laughed.

"Women seem to like it. Teri didn't appear to be a long-termer here anyway. She was looking for a free ride. Guess she thought Thunder was the one."

"She latch-on to anyone else besides Thunder?"

"Hell yes. She musta gone home with at least thirty different wrestlers in the past months. We made bets on who she'd go home with. She especially liked the new young bucks. Thing is, no one took her home a second time."

"You ever take her home?"

"My wife isn't into three-somes."

Chloe laughed. "I can't blame her. You ever go to her place?" He paused and gave her a smirk. "Aw, come on . . . you did, didn't you? I didn't think she could resist you."

"Actually I didn't. Strange thing is, a couple nights before Thunder died she was hanging all over me. She and Thunder had some big fight. He came in all sweaty from a workout. He never did that before, always showered. He sat at that back table where Cowboy is sitting."

Chuck pointed and Chloe glanced over and noticed a man wearing a cowboy hat staring at her. She turned around, putting her back to him. "He a friend of yours?" She asked quietly.

"Who, Cowboy? Not really. He's in here all the time. Usually sits with Straight Jacket, Animal Crackers, and two bodyguards; Jordash and Mo. Not the nicest guys. Seems like most boys in here steer clear of them."

"Let me buy you a drink, Chuck." Chloe pushed a folded twenty toward him.

"You want another?"

"Sure," she said, glad she ate before coming.

Chuck set her fresh drink down and tipped his beer her way. "Thanks."

She nodded and smiled. "You were telling me about Thunder and Teri fighting."

"Oh, yeh, almost forgot. I think she was trying to make him jealous by hanging on me. When it didn't work she went over to him, turned his stool around, stepped between his legs and pressed her body against him. Have to tell you it gave me an instant woody. She is one sexy woman."

"He go for it?" Chloe sipped her gimlet.

Looked like he nearly gave in, then he pushed her . . . sending her down on her ass, legs in the air. Damned if she wasn't even wearing panties. Gave everyone a free show."

"Not exactly what she expected, I'm sure."

"He said she was where she belonged . . . on her back."

"You think Thunder caught her screwing some other guy and he wasn't having it?"

Chuck nodded to a new customer that entered the bar. "I think it was more than that. Let me see what they want."

Chloe glanced over to the newcomers and swallowed hard. Mamba and her boss, Arik, stared back at her. She nodded toward them.

"You working tomorrow?" Arik asked.

"I think I need a couple of weeks to get my head on straight. Does that work for you?" Chloe picked up her drink and swallowed hard.

"Suppose Angie can cover for you. Haven't seen you in here before."

"That's because I haven't been in here before. Stopped in to chat with my old friend, Chuck." She smiled at him and hoped he'd back her up.

"We went to high school together . . . a million years ago." Chuck wiped off the bar.

"Speak for yourself." Chloe laughed.

"Mingan tells me he be wrestling in his brother's place. That be true?" Mamba adjusted the white beanie he wore.

"He mentioned he was going to ask McMahon about it. Don't know if it's true or not. I've only talked to Mingan a couple of times . . . and I've given him a place to stay while he's here in Florida. That doesn't mean I care about him and it certainly doesn't mean we're a couple."

"Kinda touchy aren't you girl?" Mamba asked.

"Why aren't you in prison for Thunder's murder?" She knew that would get him going.

"They be needin' something they call evidence. They have none because I be havin' nothin' to do with Thunder's death."

"I though he committed suicide," Chuck said.

Chloe turned toward him and took another long sip of her drink. "They thought so at first, they even found a suicide note. But now they are saying it's murder."

"Jesus! I've never known anyone who was murdered for real. He used to come in here a couple times a week."

Chloe made it appear she was listening to Chuck, but she struggled to hear anything Mamba and Arik were talking about. Finally she gave up, they were just too far away. "Did Thunder and Teri leave together that night he pushed her?"

"No, hell no. He told her to steer clear of him."

Draining her drink, she set it down and looked up at Chuck. "Who did she go home with that night? Do you remember?"

"She actually left with Cowboy and his bunch."

"Thanks for . . . you know . . . earlier."

"Anytime." He leaned in closer. "That Mamba is trouble. If he's having a drink with your boss, I'd find a new job. There's something going on here that I just haven't figured out. I see money changing wrestler's hands all over the place and it makes no sense."

"What do you mean?" She laughed and loudly added, "That would be Shirley Hansen . . . the prom queen for sure! What about the money changing hands?"

"At first I thought it was gambling. Wrestlers throwing games for big kickbacks. Thunder was in here asking the same questions. It got him killed."

"Did you tell anyone Thunder was in here asking questions?"

"That's just it . . . I didn't have to tell anyone . . . he wasn't being very discrete. He wanted answers and many times he'd slam guys against the wall and make accusations. He didn't have many friends around here. Yesterday the cops came asking all sorts of questions. I told them nothing."

"Doesn't it bother you to know something is going on in here and they won't include you in on it?" Chloe spotted a gold medallion hanging from a chain around Chuck's neck. "Damn, that is one dynamic chunk of gold!"

"Oh . . . it's not real. My wife gave it to me for my birthday. You . . . work for the WWE?"

Why did he suddenly seem nervous? "Yes, I sell memorabilia and tickets for matches."

"Be right back."

Chloe waited while Chuck refilled drinks around the bar. When he returned he had another for her. "Chuck, I really can't drink that. Two is my limit, especially this time of day."

"Well just sit there and nurse it then, because it looks strange to be sitting here and not drinking."

She took out another twenty and placed it on the bar. "You're so right." She took a sip and set it back down. Chloe glanced in the mirror behind the bar and noticed a tall, broad, well-built man walk in with a beautiful Native American woman. They headed straight for the table area. "You know the couple that just walked in?"

"That's Schillings and his girlfriend, Koko. They started coming here right after Thunder's murder. They've been meeting up with some real cagey looking people."

"Do you have a back door, Chuck? Because if they spot me . . . I'm in serious shit."

"Sure, meet me at the end of the bar and I'll let you in the door down there."

"Hurry." She eased from her stool, grabbed her purse, and slowly walked toward the door Chuck indicated. The room swayed and she grabbed the bar edge to keep from falling down.

"I've got you!"

Chloe turned her head to the voice and fell into Mingan's arms.

* * *

Chloe woke with the worst migraine she'd ever experienced. Barely able to open her eyes, she struggled to keep the room from spinning. Once it settled down she found herself once again in bed, wearing fresh sleeping shorts and top.

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

"Must you shout?"

"Here, drink this."

"Is it some Native American herbal cure all? I don't think I could possibly drink anything. I think I have the flue."

"What you have is a hangover from Ruffies."

"Are you telling me I was drugged? Chuck was such a nice guy. He was telling me—"

"Drink this and you'll feel better. It's a carrot and cilantro cooler. It's packed with vitamins and a bit of hair of the dog. The beta carotene in the carrot juice will protect your liver, the cilantro will help eliminate toxins, and of course orange juice has vitamin C."

A wave of nausea moved up her throat. She slowly sat and took the glass he offered. "At least it looks good. Why would you know all that?"

"I used to be Thunder's trainer, remember? I made him plenty of these."

"You don't drink?" She took a small sip. "It actually tastes good." She gradually drank it down. "If I didn't feel so rotten, I'd actually have enjoyed it. Ruffies . . . you sure?"

"I'm sure. Good thing you left that note telling me you were headed for the Tag Team. You might be facing another round of interrogation tactics otherwise."

"What the hell is going on? No one is honest. Everyone seems to be ten steps ahead of me. I think Bernstein might be right . . . I'm in over my head on this one."

"Thunder worked on this for over two years, you really think you should figure it all out in two days? I don't think that's the way it works. You get any useful information?"

"If we can trust Chuck's information, Teri started working at Tag Team about six months ago. That's exactly the same time Buster moved into Thunder's apartment complex and started reporting his activities."

"Right and Buster is dead and I'm guessing Teri is missing?"

Chloe nodded, then moaned. "I don't think Chuck put that into my drink. I don't know how, but if I were to guess I'd say it was Mamba or Arik."

"You think Arik Wheat is mixed up in this?"

"He was having drinks and talking friendly with Mamba the whole time I was there. Oh, there was a guy they called Cowboy at a table to the back of the room. Chuck said he was a regular and hung with a rowdy group."

"I remember him. He always had two brut bodyguards. One was Mo and I can't remember—

"Jordash." The nausea started subsiding and she almost wished for another cooler.

"That's right. Two wrestlers always hung with him; Straight Jacket and Animal Crackers. Neither were good wrestlers, but they managed to hang on the fringes for the really dirty fights. No one wants to get a money maker hurt."

"Chuck said he noticed money was changing hands and he thought wrestlers were throwing fights at first. But as he observed how things were flowing . . . it just didn't fit. He said Thunder was all over the place asking questions, slamming guys against walls and making accusations."

"Sounds like my brother. Anything else?"

"Yes, one thing that is most interesting. Chuck was wearing a chain and guess what was hanging from it?"

"A gold medallion?"

"You should join the FBI! Second thought . . . maybe not. Their motto is; the only good Indian is a dead Indian."

"Very funny."

Chloe felt smug with her small triumph. "Do you hear how stupid that sounds? You have to realize people just don't think that way anymore. You create the prejudice yourself by the way you act and react to Native American vs white . . . or should I say napikwan?"

"Give it a rest, Chloe. Did Chuck say anything else that might be useful . . . that is before you fell into my arms."

"Nice . . . I didn't fall . . . wait a minute . . . I don't remember a thing from the time I grabbed for the bar and seeing your face . . . until I opened my eyes here. That is not a good feeling. And why would someone just happen to have Ruffies?"

"If you really don't think it was Chuck, then maybe Mamba and your boss had other ideas for you and I spoiled their plans. You sure Arik doesn't suspect—

Chloe help her palms up and mouthed, stop! "That Thunder and I were breaking up and I shouldn't need this much time to get over his death? I don't think so. I sure could use some fresh air and maybe another one of those drinks you made. How about I get dressed and we sit out on the patio for a while?"

"I have someone to meet at the airport in about two hours, could I use your car?"

"Sure, I don't think I feel like going anywhere. I'll meet you downstairs." She slipped off the bed and walked over to a vase of sunflowers and pointed to the base filled with fancy glass rocks. Sunlight hit a metal oval bug just right, leaving a shining line across the wall.

Mingan nodded and walked from the room.

Chloe wiggled into a pair of skinny jeans and slipped on a white spaghetti strap crop top with beaded and feather bodice edging and earrings of matching grouse feathers. She applied makeup to hide the bruises and left the bedroom as quickly as she could. Once out on the patio, she sat in the shade, downed two Tylenol and drank down more of the carrot and cilantro cooler as if it was an antidote.

She stared at Mingan's back and wondered how he could even function. Having lost a brother would be horrible . . . but a twin must be devastating. "Now they know everything we know. Damn it!"

"They don't know who you are . . . and they don't know who they're dealing with. My uncle, Chogan, and cousin, Machk, are on their way here. I'm hiring them to be my bodyguards." He turned around and leaned against the post.

"Isn't Machk your cousin who Koko moved in with? Thunder was hurt when Bear took up with Koko. The divorce wasn't even final. Maybe he kicked her out and she moved on . . . but he still did wrong in my eyes."

"True . . . every word. But he apologized and he wants to make up for his wrong. You can't ask for more than that. He is more than a cousin . . . he's always been like a brother to Thunder and me. Thunder would want me to give him this chance to set things right. If he can help us save Nuttah . . . any grievance can be forgiven."

"You really love her too, don't you?"

"She is now my daughter. Everything I do must be for her. It is a great responsibility to have a child. She is the life of Thunder. She carries his spirit . . . and I must protect her at all cost. My ways may seem . . . primitive and old-fashioned, but they are the ways of my people. I respect and take pride in keeping the traditions of the old ones."

"I think it's a beautiful way to believe. Good is never wrong, Mingan." She didn't know what else to say, so she fell silent.

"I think this Teri is also dead. They are eliminating everyone who knows about Nuttah's kidnapping. Does that mean they will kill Koko and Nuttah as well?"

Chloe gasped behind cupped palms. "We should call in the FBI. We need their expertise."

"No. Our best hope is making them believe we are cooperating on their terms. Our focus has to be finding that wooden box."

"You check Thunder's locker?"

"Yes. It had been trashed . . . but I found this in the back corner on the top shelf." Mingan opened a slightly cupped his hand. A single small raw diamond rolled around the indenture.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Seven

Mingan sat across from Chloe and stared at her beauty. He couldn't get past the bright blue of her eyes. They made him think of mountain lakes that reflected the serenity around them. He hated red hair, yet somehow it looked right on her, teasing the edges of her pale cheeks. Soft yet edgy. He found himself drawn to this FBI agent, and that scared him.

"I'd say don't go anywhere, but with you that's like spitting in the wind. Consider waiting here while I go to the airport for Chogan and Machk. Then I think we'll go pay Chuck and his gold medallion a visit."

"I'm going with. Chuck will talk to me. Besides, I want to know who put that Ruffies in my drink."

He looked her over and liked what he saw. She did look incredibly better than when she woke. "You sure you feel up to it?"

"Don't think I'm ready for drinks with the boys, but I'm good to go. If you promise not to interrogate anyone at the airport again, then I'll go in with you, too."

"Only if you promise not to chase down any shooters." He couldn't help chuckling. "We do seem to get in a bit of trouble when we're together, don't we?"

"People either die or are kidnapped around us. I'm hoping neither is the case today. They aren't ready to kill us yet, they want that box too much. You have any ideas what's in it?"

"I've been giving it considerable thought, as I'm sure you have. You think it's full of raw diamonds?" He waited for her to respond.

"Something tells me it's more. Diamonds . . . even raw diamonds are enough to go after, especially if they're worth millions. I get the impression whatever Thunder found might expose a great deal more than diamonds. Maybe information on the cartel or even the skivvy on the import-export of their dealings. That information gets discovered and the top players are in a heap of shit."

"It has to do with the wrestlers. Most of those guys have a wife and families. They wouldn't get mixed up in this kind of crap." Mingan headed toward the house. "Let's get to the airport."

"I thought we had almost two hours before their flight arrived?"

"That's what I wanted our buddies to think. Their flight gets here in about twenty minutes. We drive up, they get in, and we drive off before anyone has a chance to notice. While we have our chat with Chuck, they'll be waiting for us at the airport."

"You're getting the hang of this cloak and dagger stuff pretty darn fast. You forgot one thing."

He got into the car and pushed the garage opener. He waited while she slid into the passenger seat and locked her seatbelt. "What am I forgetting?"

"All they have to do is call and find out when and what airline they arrive."

"True except I never said who was arriving. I said I was meeting someone at the airport in about two hours." He smiled and backed out of the garage, then sped up the street.

He caught a whiff of eucalyptus and liked it. "I have my first match Wednesday night on the Main Event in Miami."

"That soon? That gives you only five days to train. Will you be ready?"

She was right and he knew it. "I'll have to be ready because I don't want to lose. I'm matched up against Yellow Snake. He fights dirty and spits. I hate the bastard." Mingan wondered why he was telling her . . . it had nothing directly to do with finding that box.

"Competitive . . . like Thunder. He hated Jack-In-The-Box to be honest with you. Said the man cheated to win. Last time they fought he blew body glitter in his face. Thunder said it burned his eyes like hell. Jack got disqualified and he was beyond pissed."

"There they are on the corner." Mingan pulled up to the curb, popped the back and unlocked the sides. In a matter of seconds both men were in the vehicle and they were merging into traffic.

"Glad you made it. Anyone follow you?" Mingan put on the blinker and turned right.

"Two fellas at the airport were scanning all incoming flights. We spotted them and worked our way around the crowds. We don't exactly blend."

"Uncle Chogun and Machk I'd like you to meet Chloe Evans. Chloe this is my Uncle Chogun and cousin Machk."

"It's so good to meet you both. Oh, my car is so small you barely fit. I . . . didn't mean that as an insult."

The men laughed. "Uncle Chogun is a world winning Sumo wrestler. He taught Thunder, Machk and me everything we know. Machk went to the Olympics and won silver. You might say it's in our blood."

"Then why did everyone disapprove of Thunder wrestling?" Chloe asked.

"Good question," Chogun said. "It was not the wrestling that was wrong. It was the heart . . . or should I say lack of heart in the matches. Wrestling is a preparation for battle not for show. Men must be ready to protect what is his and his loved ones. It is not something to take lightly."

"But Uncle Chogun—"

"Just Chogun."

"Would you prefer Blackbird?"

"Either would be fine."

"In all the ages there were sports for entertainment. There were great arenas with fighting for all classes. Even during the rendezvous there were fights for entertainment and even betting on winners. It's nothing new."

"This is true, and we have no problem with such activities. But today the wrestling is a joke. They do not take it seriously. It is done with chairs and ropes and insults. There is no pride in that."

"I once thought the same way, Chogun. But in the past two years I've been watching these wrestlers. They train until their muscles ache. They have to travel and they have great pressure on them to win. They have families and if they fail, there's no money to pay the bills. Times are different and yes wrestling games have changed, but unless you've seen the men and the games, maybe you should keep your comments until you've witnessed them."

"Wise words for such a young woman. So, you are the girl Thunder was going to marry?" Chogun asked.

"No, if you want the truth. We agreed to get engaged so I had the inside track to the wrestling world. In turn he had someone to help him with Nuttah and give him an excuse not to drink all hours of the night."

"You were friends helping each other?"

"Yes, we were friends. I love Nuttah and I will do anything to see she is returned without harm."

"That bitch Koko has something to do with this . . . doesn't she?" Machk asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Chloe said. "But you are going to have to keep that anger in check. Anyone mentions her name and you have to keep your expression free of emotion. Find out anything you can about what is going on in the wrestling arena."

"Mingan, I like this girl."

"Good, Chogun, because we need her. Right now we're going to a bar called Tag Team. Most wrestlers hang out there. You two are now my bodyguards. You are the eyes behind my head. You are my ears when I can't hear." Mingan pulled up in front of the bar and turned off the ignition.

"After we leave this place . . . we need to go rent a big car with plenty room. We look like sardines in a can. A bodyguard has his pride." Machk struggled to get out of the back seat.

Mingan laughed. "You two have no idea how ridiculous you look back there."

"When you are done laughing it's a good idea if you could come around and help your uncle get out of this tin can."

Mingan hurried around the vehicle and pulled and lifted Chogun's arm until he stood on solid ground. Once they stopped laughing, Mingan cleared his throat. "Thunder would have been on the ground laughing if he were here.

"And he would be the first to tell everyone so they could enjoy the laugh," Machk said. "I . . . did him a great wrong. I wish he was here to forgive me."

Mingan slid his palm over Machk's shoulder and gently squeezed. "You know he will forgive you when you help save his daughter's life. He would not have stayed angry with you forever. You are like a brother to us. We fight, we get mad, and we forget it. Nothing has changed."

"We will get Nuttah back and we will avenge Thunder's death. When that is done I will go back to Montana a happy man."

"Before we go inside, know one thing, men. These people are playing for keeps. They would kill you without blinking. They are serious and they are dangerous. No one must know you are here to find Nuttah. Never mention her name. You are bodyguards . . . nothing more . . . nothing less." Chloe tossed her hair back and adjusted her top to show a bit more cleavage, then headed for the front door.

In spite of his size, Machk hustled past her and opened the door. Mingan smiled to himself. Chogun hung back, glancing around, making sure no one observed them. Mingan was satisfied with his decision to ask them for help.

Mingan followed Chloe and sat next to her at the bar.

"Hi, didn't expect to see you so soon. You were wasted last night."

"Hi, Chuck. I'm actually here to find out if someone . . . other than you . . . could have put something in my drink last night?"

"What are you saying, Chloe? I didn't drug you, if that's what you're suggesting. I thought you and I were on the same page last night." Chuck wiped the bar clean.

"We were and I don't think it was you. Someone slipped me Ruffies and if my friend here hadn't come by when he did, who knows where I'd have ended up. Is there anyway . . . when your back was turned that someone could have . . . you know . . . poured something in my drink?"

Mingan waited while Chuck thought through his actions from the previous night.

"There's only one time it could have happened. I started making your last drink when a guy on the other end of the bar waved his empty beer bottle. I grabbed him a fresh one and took it to him before finishing your gimlet. That would mean . . . hell, that means either your boss or Mamba spiked your drink."

"Why? I don't understand—"

"You were asking an awful lot of questions. I really don't think they could hear any of them, but they seemed mighty nervous you were here."

"I'd like a Barkley with ice and how about one for the lady, too? They ask what you and Chloe were talking about?" Mingan pulled out a fifty dollar bill and placed it on the bar.

Chuck returned with two bottles of root beer and glasses filled with ice. He grabbed up the fifty and slipped it into his front pocket. "They did ask me what we were laughing about. Told them we went to high school together and were reminiscing good times. They bought it."

"You happen to overhear anything Mamba and Arik were talking about?" Chloe took a sip of her drink and pushed it aside.

Chuck filled a glass with orange juice and set it on the bar. "This might be better for you." He looked over at Mingan, then added, "They were pretty uptight. They kept a close eye on Chloe here and now that I think about it . . . when she started getting tipsy . . . both men were headed her way. You beat them to her and they both backed off before anyone noticed. I didn't think anything of it until now."

"You overhear any of their conversation?" Chloe asked again.

"I caught . . . shipment . . . Saturday at the docks . . . and something else I didn't really understand."

"What was that?" Mingan leaned closer to the man.

"He said something like nootaw . . . or nutog—"

"Nuttah?"

"Yes, that's what he said."

"How did he say it? Do you remember?" Chloe encouraged.

"They were getting ready to leave and I heard Mamba tell Arik they were trading Nuttah for a box."

"Shit sounded freaky to me. I went about my business and made sure they never guessed I heard shit. That's how people get killed. They hear shit they shouldn't. You better not tell anyone you got this information from me."

"What information?" Chloe said.

"You know it. That's what I'm talkin' about."

Mingan smiled. "Chloe said you were wearing a pretty nice piece last night. You care to show it to me?" He didn't miss the sudden tensing of Chuck's jaw. He glanced right and left, then leaned forward.

"I ain't wearing it because . . . it wasn't a gift from my wife. Someone left it here and I . . . sort of took it. I didn't know it was real until she seemed to take a shine to it. I stopped at a pawn shop on the way here and damn, it was worth fifteen-hundred bucks. They gave me a thousand for it. You gotta swear you won't tell no one."

"You have any idea who lost it?" Chloe asked, leaning forward just enough to distract him from his nerves.

"If I tell you . . . you won't let it slip where you learned it from?"

"Chuck, there is no way my friend or I will ever share this conversation with a living soul. You did right by me last night and I won't forget it."

"Okay . . . I . . . I saw the pendant way before it landed on the floor. Two guys were up in this third fella's face. They were arguing about usual wrestling shit. Cowboy comes struttin' in with his side-kicks and all hell broke loose. The place was packed and no one was willing to come to Dawes rescue. I was getting ready to call the cops when Thunder walked in and pulled Cowboy and his crew off the guy."

"Who was wearing the pendant?" Mingan asked.

"Dawes rushed out of here like his shorts were on fire. Thunder and Cowboy had words and that was the end of it. The guy never came back asking for his chain and pendant so I held on to it. Wore it for the first time last night. When Chloe commented on it . . . I took it off real quick and like I said . . . I sold it this morning down the street at Billy the Kid's Pawn."

"Have you seen or heard anything about this Dawes since that night?"

"Well . . . now that you mention it . . . I think he was in a bad car accident a couple weeks back. Drunker'n a skunk he drove right into a parked van going something like eighty miles an hour."

"Let me guess, he didn't survive?" Chloe said.

"They took him to some hospital and he lived a couple of days. Word is he never regained consciousness."

"Why am I not surprised? Thunder ever say much to you?" Mingan played a hunch.

"You're his brother, aren't you? You look a lot like him. He was an okay guy. He didn't play well with the other wrestlers, and I have no doubt that got him killed." Chuck slid a piece of paper across the bar. "Maybe this might help. It fell out of Koko's purse the other night."

"How do you know it was from her purse?" Chloe asked.

"Because it was under the table she was sitting at and it smelled of cheap perfume . . . like her. She's one gorgeous woman . . . but she's no lady hanging with Schilling."

Mingan slipped the paper into his front pocket. "Have you seen Schilling and Mamba together in here?"

"Not together out there publically, but if you ask me they connect with messages in the men's room. I may not look it . . . but nothing gets past me."

"Is there anything else you can think of that might help us find Thunder's killer?"

"Is that what you're doing? Hells bells . . . you two are going to get yourselves killed, too. These aren't people you should piss off or mess with. If you're smart you'll pack your bags and just head home."

"Would if I could." Mingan took a long swallow of root beer. "Thunder didn't by any chance leave something with you . . . for safekeeping or to give to someone in case he died . . . did he?"

"What would make you think that?" Chuck stepped back.

"How about that gold medallion? Let's agree you keep all the medallions and I get the box and whatever else is in it." Mingan held his breath.

"I . . . I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm going to be honest with you, Chuck," Chloe leaned forward. "Anyone . . . and I mean anyone even suspects you have that beautifully carved wooden box and you'll be dead before you can deny it. I'm just being honest here."

"But . . . I . . . don't—

"We say nothing. No one will find out shit. Thunder trusted you and now you have to trust us. My brother would have wanted you to keep the gold. The rest . . . you don't want anything to do with it man. Give me the box, walk out of this bar and get your family packed up as fast as you can. Take them, the gold, and get the hell out of Dodge."

"What are you saying?"

Mingan finished his drink and set it on the bar. "You sold one piece that can lead right here to you. The minute they find out—"

"I used a fake name."

"Did you use a fake face? If you didn't . . . all they have to do is show a picture of you and your ass is grass. Chuck they've been waiting for something like this to happen. They were dead in the water. When you sold that gold piece you gave them wind in their sail. Give us the box and get the hell out of town."

"I need your purse."

"What?" Chloe glanced at Mingan. "You have the box here?"

"Right here under the ice chest." He slid her purse toward him, slipped it quickly over the edge and moved further down the bar. He rattled the ice chest several times. "Damn thing plugs up and I have to shake it sometimes," he said rather loudly. He returned with another Barkley and glass of ice for Mingan.

He dropped a ten dollar bill on the bar. "Thanks. You want another orange juice?" She shook her head. "I think I'll just take the bottle with me this time. He stood and stretched. "You ready?" he asked.

Chloe moved alongside him, her purse clutched under her arm. "See you later, Chuck," she called out and followed Mingan outside.

"Okay boys, no time for explanations. Get in the car and let's get the hell out of here." Mingan merged with traffic before relaxing enough to talk. "Anything or anyone get your attention, boys?"

"Things were definitely quiet. Your airport decoy may have worked," Chloe said.

"Chloe, your place is bugged. I say we get a room at a hotel and send the guys for a bigger car. That will give us time to . . . be alone."

"I think that sounds like a plan."

Mingan drove in silence, finally pulling up to a Holiday Inn he parked and got out. "Leave your purse in the car," he mouthed. She nodded and they got out of the vehicle and closed the doors."

He helped Chogan get out and closed the door. "I'm not sure what we have is a setup or even what we've been looking for. You go get a rental and call when you get back here." He handed the keys over. Mingan opened the passenger door, grabbed Chloe's purse and handed it to her, then led the way into the hotel.

After ten minutes, they finally entered their room. Mingan didn't hesitate to grab her purse and head for the bathroom. Gently he set it in the tub and opened the snap. "Nothing exploded . . . so far."

"That's what you're worried about?"

"That and other things," he admitted. He lifted the leather bag open and slid out a wooden box. He stared at it in disbelief. The intricate design carved into the wood paled in comparison to the ivory inlays. It was a piece of art.

"That is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Chloe whispered.

"Go in the other room as far away from the bathroom as you can." Mingan swallowed hard.

"If there's a bomb inside, I'd have to be outside not to get hurt. Just open it and get done with it. Besides, you really think Chuck wouldn't have warned us? I think the guy was on the up and up. Stop being dramatic and open the damn thing!"

"Has anyone mentioned how annoying you can be?" Mingan flipped the gold latch and lift the top slow and easy. "It didn't explode and I don't see a bug. Let's take it to bed and see what we have in here that is worth dying for. Would you double-check the lock on the door?"

"It's locked and I'll slide a chair under the knob."

"Good. Pull those drapes before you sit down." Mingan set the box in the middle of the bed and sat with his back against the pillows. "Hurry up, Chloe." He didn't know why he felt it important to wait for her.

"Okay, so what do we have?"

Mingan picked up an airline envelop and stared at a ticket in Thunder's name. "He was going to Kenya. I have a hard time believing that one."

"Set it aside . . . what else . . . is that a bag of diamonds?" she asked.

He opened the drawstring on the velvet bag and poured a handful of raw diamonds onto his palm. "I don't know much about stones like this . . . but this is not good."

"Okay, what else do we have?" Chloe's impatience showed.

He dropped the rocks back into the bag and pulled the strings tight and set it aside. "Take a look inside this." Mingan handed her a small notebook held closed with a rubber band. "Here's a flash drive."

"That's what I was hoping for. Hand it to me."

"Why . . . what you going to do?" Mingan handed it over and watched her snap open her eye shadow box and slide the flash drive into the hollow bottom, then snap it shut. She dropped it back into her purse.

He grabbed an envelope and poured the contents out on the bed. "Look, they're pictures taken in what looks like Africa." He flipped them over hoping to find notes written on the back, but found none. "They mean nothing if there aren't any explanations."

"They're written in here. Picture number one is taken in Nairobi, Kenya. Somalia's Al Shabaab militia stand proudly by stacks of ivory tusks from their recent kill of one hundred fifty elephants. This isn't about blood diamonds, Mingan, it's about trafficking ivory tusks."

"No shittin' way. Who does that notebook belong to?" He waited while she searched front and back for any kind of ownership.

"Here, Luke Bloom, Global Post. It belongs to a journalist? I wonder how Thunder got all this."

"Maybe he was helping this Bloom gather information to expose the operation? Thunder was big on fund raisers to save endangered species. That might be how he got involved."

"Here's a note; armed insurgent groups – and major players in illicit ivory trading \- Uganda's brutal Lord's Resistance Army (LRA), Somalia's Qaeda-linked Al Shabaab and Sudan's Janjaweed militia. Trafficking tusks internationally for cash and trading ivory for food and ammunition. Equivalent to conflict diamonds, mined in war zones to fund insurgencies or militias."

"We're in some deep shit here. I'm just not sure how this ties in with the wrestlers." He glanced at Chloe . . . and couldn't believe she was taking snapshots of pictures with her iPhone. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sending evidence to Bernstein. I'll text him all these pictures and pages from the notebook. Hell, I'll even send a picture of the bag of raw diamonds. What we need to do is find a computer and see what's on that flash drive."

"You're taking chances with Nuttah's life . . . and I don't like it."

"No I'm not. We can't just turn all this over to them. You really think they'd believe we didn't look inside the box? They aren't stupid."

Mingan leaned back against the pillows. "We've seen all there is to see and we've learned what they're up to. They were never going to let us or Nuttah live."

"You don't know that. What we do is get them to deliver Nuttah to your parents before we hand over anything. Before we do that . . . we find a computer and send copies to my boss. I get him to agree he won't do anything with the information until we tell him he can."

"You're asking me to trust the FBI?"

"No, I'm asking you to trust me."

Mingan stared at her . . . his instincts were on alert. "I trust you, Chloe, but I'm not willing to say I trust your boss or anyone else at your office. They want their information and don't care who gets hurt in the process. I can't take that chance with Nuttah's life."

"Mingan, we have to copy this information and make sure it's not all for nothing. Thunder risked his life for this box. He felt it was worth dying for." She continued taking pictures of the notebook.

"You done?"

"Yes, I have it all."

"Okay, so this is what we do. We're putting your cell phone and a copy of that flash drive in a bubble pack and address it to Bernstein. We'll send it to my father and if something happens to us he'll mail it."

Chloe nodded. "That works for me. Now we need to find a computer and—

The knock on the door was more a pound. Mingan gathered all the pictures and stuffed them into the envelope. Chloe slid a rubber band over the notebook and dropped it into the box. The second pound came with more urgency. Mingan handed the wooden box to Chloe. "Put it back in your purse."

"Come on, open up!"

The sound of Chogun's voice sent a wash of relief over Mingan. "Damn, you have no idea what that knocking did. I thought you were—"

"Get your asses out of there and let's get out of here."

"What's going on?"

"Machk spotted a guy with a gun enter the lobby. They know you're here."

Mingan grabbed Chloe's arm and pushed her ahead of him. Chogan hit the carpet and Mingan turned just in time to feel a staggering blow to the back of his head . . . then darkness.

* * *

Nausea hit him before the stabbing pain at the back of his head. The last thing he remembered was . . . shit . . . Mingan forced his eyes open and pushed himself up off the ground to his knees. He had no idea where he was. "Chloe?" he called out.

The heat from Chloe's blazing car forced him to inch back. He stumbled to his feet and searched the area as best he could in the black night. "Chloe?" he called out again.

Fear filled him. Did they leave him here believing he was dead? Did they have Chloe and the box? Was she burning in the vehicle? He had failed Nuttah and Thunder and even Chloe. Musty grass and stale water filled his senses. The moon inched out from behind several moving clouds.

If this was Montana, he'd have a pretty good idea where he was . . . but this was Florida. He heard traffic and glanced up a steep hill. He heard voices and wondered whether they were making sure the job was done . . . or were they here to help him.

His head pounded and the ground moved as he attempted to get to his feet. He hit hard before realizing he'd fallen.

"Stay still and don't try to move. We're trained paramedics and are here to help you. Were you alone in the vehicle?"

"I . . . don't know." Mingan managed to answer.

"What is your name sir? Is this your car?"

He closed his eyes and struggled to keep awake.

"He's in pretty rough shape and by the looks of it, he's lucky to be alive."

"Chloe?" he said.

"Hey Charlie, he is calling out for Chloe. Go check the wreck and see if there is anyone in or out of that rig."

"Hell, ain't nobody surviving that wreck. I'll check around . . . but this here don't look so good."

"What's your name, buddy?"

"Mingan Keme." He looked around hoping to spot Chloe.

"It doesn't appear you've broken any bones, and that's amazing when you look at the car. Did you jump out?"

"I don't remember."

"I'm not surprised. That's quite the bump and cut you have to the back of your skull. Stay still and we'll get you to the hospital as quickly as possible. You have any family you want called?"

"My cellphone call Chogan."

"Cho gan?"

"Yes. My uncle. You find Chloe?" Mingan asked, struggling against the headache and pain in the back of his head.

"Is this her purse? I found it on the bottom of the hill." A fireman held up a fringed, black, leather bag.

"Yes. Let's take it along and I'll see Chogan gets it. Would you place it under my blanket? A guy thing."

The paramedic laughed. "Sure, I get your drift. These days it doesn't take much for people to jump to conclusions. My name is Mike, by the way."

Mingan closed his eyes. "They didn't find a body burned in the car . . . did they?"

"Charlie, what's the visual on anyone still in that vehicle?"

"Nope. I'd say his Chloe is lucky she didn't decide to join our Indian here for a joy ride. She'd be crispy critters right now.

"Watch your mouth, Charlie. Make a slur like that again and I won't hesitate to report you. You're new or I'd report it this time."

So Charlie was new. How new? Tonight new? Mingan inched his eyes open and observed the slightly over-weight paramedic. Did he look familiar? The pain to his skull made thinking difficult.

"Charlie go topside and lower the Stokes basket and get ready to winch him up. I'll steady it here as it goes."

Mingan waited several minutes, then said, "Have Charlie drive and you stay back with me." Mingan could tell his speech sounded slurred.

"What?"

"Mike? I don't trust Charlie. Don't leave me alone with him. Someone tried to kill me here." Mingan wasn't sure if Mike believed him. "Has he been working with you for long?"

"Actually this is our first night together . . . and I'll admit . . . he does seem green around the edges. Especially that nasty comment about you being Indian. I'm going to ask for a police escort to the hospital. If he planned on a side trip – it won't happen on my watch."

"Thank you." Mingan closed his eyes.

"Hey, I'm going to hate to do this . . . and by the time we get to the hospital you are going to hate my guts, because I can't let you fall asleep. There's a really good chance you have a concussion."

"Do what you gotta do," Mingan fought the heaviness. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"Okay, stay still and let me place a bag to your right. That's it . . . sometimes you'll feel better once you vomit."

Mingan couldn't remember a time he felt more ill or felt such pain. In spite of it all . . . his thoughts kept drifting to Chloe. He hoped she wasn't being interrogated again. Her purse was here and she wasn't. They'd left the hotel and were ambushed, that much he remembered. If they had taken her and the box . . . her purse wouldn't be in her car. So where was she? Did she have the box?

#

#

# 

# Chapter Eight

Chloe limped her way in the dark. Damn her ankle hurt like hell. She could only hope that Mingan wasn't killed falling down that hill. He'd definitely be burning had she not been able to push him out the door and dive out herself.

She couldn't find him in the dark and wondered if she should stay . . . or make sure she hid, in case they were watching.

"Oh . . . now look at you. You a cat with seven lives or what? You have no idea how happy I am you survived that little car crash."

The moon shed enough light on the man to reveal he carried a gun. "Would you just leave me alone? You have your box . . . so why don't you just let me take Nuttah back to Montana? You'll never hear from either of us again."

"The thing is . . . something is missing from the box. I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about . . . and where I can find it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We found the box and were preparing to set up a meet to exchange it for Nuttah when we were attacked . . . by you and your boys if I were to guess."

"For a clerk, you're not too stupid. Thunder should have kept his nose out of this . . . and he'd still be alive."

"What exactly is this? People are dying . . . so it must be something lucrative."

"You really want me to believe you don't know?"

"Believe what you want . . . but Mingan wouldn't let me see what was in that wooden box. Said it was for my own safety. He rifled through it, read a couple of things, then tossed it all back in and said we were going to set up a meeting. That's all I know."

Come on . . . let's get moving."

"I can't . . . I think I broke my ankle." She stared at the man's gun.

"Lucky for you, there's a road just up ahead and my car is parked on it. You walked nearly a mile on that ankle and a few more yards won't hurt ya." He motioned with the gun for here to get moving.

She stared him down for a few seconds, then hobbled forward. "Is Mingan okay?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"That I don't know."

Chloe cringed. If she caused his death, she'd never forgive herself. She still had a chance to save Nuttah, she just didn't know how. "You better hope he survives, because I'm telling you the truth when I say I don't have a clue what's missing from that box." She saw his car and was relieved, her ankle was killing her.

"Hey, Charlie, Billy here. You gotta keep that Indian alive . . . at least until we get some answers outta him. I've got the girl, she'll live. Meet me at the trailer."

Chloe wondered how she'd get away from Billy. She definitely didn't want to end up at the trailer for another interrogation.

"Face the car and put your hands behind your back."

"Oh, come on, Billy. Just tie them in front of me . . . How can I run with this ankle? Besides, you've got the gun."

"Get it straight in your head, I won't hesitate to shoot you."

"I believe you." She turned and placed her wrists together, holding them as far apart as she dared. "Is Nuttah okay?"

"Kids a kid. Give them a TV and games, they're happy. Now that mother of hers . . . I'd sooner shoot her than listen to her. Can't keep her yap shut. Get in the front seat where I can keep an eye on you."

Chloe smiled. First chance she got, they were headed for an accident. "Koko thought this kidnap was for ransom, didn't she. How's she taking it they've tricked her into using her own daughter's life for a wooden box?"

"See, you know more than you let on. Koko is one of a kind. She's so in love with Schilling she'd shoot the kid if he asked her to. She was mighty pleased when Thunder got himself in too deep. She didn't even care when he died. She was beyond pissed when she realized there wasn't going to be a million dollar ransom payoff from your aunt. She'd been drinking, talking smack, and pretty hard to live with since."

"Maybe she's figured out that there's a good chance they'll kill her to keep her quiet."

"Wish they'd do it sooner... instead of waiting for later."

They hit a bump and Chloe cringed. "Aren't you worried when they'll decide you're next? It appears to me just about everyone connected to that wooden box are having fatal accidents. Either it's jinxed . . . or the contents are."

"Don't be giving me that humbo jumbo voodoo crap. I'm loyal and I get the job done. Cowboy has his racket setup and nobody has the guts to challenge him."

"Except Thunder?"

"Yeh, and where did that get him?"

"You aware they're dealing with big bad guys in Africa?"

"What the shit you talking about?"

"Thought they hadn't included you in on the hundreds of millions they're making by dealing in ivory tusks."

"You're nuts, girl. Cowboy is making wrestlers pay for insurance. If they pay the five hundred a month for protection, they won't have to take nets to Africa and bring back packages."

"You serious? Five hundred dollars and they get a free pass. What if they refuse?"

"They are handed a ticket to the next trip to Africa. They deliver mosquito nets, meet up with some guys and bring a box back to the states."

"If they get caught, who is protecting them then? Would the WWE . . . or are they on their own?"

"You see that's the beauty of wanting protection. If you go to Africa, you're on your own."

"Okay, let's say they make it back safely, then what do they do?"

"They drop off the merchandise and receive a diamond for their success."

"They receive a diamond? You serious?"

"Some guys don't pay the protection just so they can get the diamond. There's been a few fights over who goes next. Didn't expect that one, did you?"

"Where does the ivory fit in the picture?" Chloe couldn't believe Billy was talking so freely with her.

"It doesn't."

"What do you mean, it doesn't. Who isn't being honest now? Did you see the top of that wooden box? Do you know who that box belongs to?"

"I heard about a wood box with ivory inlays, but never seen it."

"Are you saying you didn't find it when you grabbed Mingan and me? You better hope he doesn't die, because he's the only one who knows where it is." Chloe didn't miss the worried expression that washed across his face. "There's a good chance it's burning up with my car.

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"That's the thing . . . I'm not lying. You and your buddies can beat me all you want, and I won't be able to tell you anything. I don't know anything. If you didn't check his inside jacket pocket, then you can be sure it's up in flames because I'm pretty certain that's where he put the thing. Either that or he hid it somewhere in that hotel room. I was in the bathroom just before we left that room and that's when you guys grabbed us. You take me back to the trailer and they'll beat me to death and you know it. You want that on your conscious? Maybe we should go back to that hotel room and see if we can find that box hidden somewhere. Or you could let me go and tell them I jumped out of the car at a red light and you couldn't do a damn thing about it."

"And Schillings would shoot me on the spot. That just isn't happening. It's you or me, and I'll be up front with you – it's not going to be me."

"Then I suggest you have someone go to that hotel room and look for that box. If you guys hadn't got the drop on us, that box would be in the hands of the owner and they'd be letting Nuttah go. This whole mess is your fault. Tell me who that box belongs to and I won't tell Schillings you and Charlie didn't even check us for that box." She watched him mull over her deal.

"If I knew . . . I just might agree. We don't know what's in that box or who it belongs to. If I was a betting man, I'd guess Mamba. He's one scary dude."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Mamba? He's from Africa and his brother visits him regularly. He's rich and he's arrogant. He gets his money from something other than that training facility."

"What's his brother do for a living?"

"Rumor is he deals in financing militia groups in Uganda. Everyone is afraid of him."

"Who around here have you seen Mamba associate with?"

"There's a guy big in the wrestling management, uh, I think Arik is his name. He's the guy who approves all travel and the wrestling schedule. Here we are. Too late to bale on me now."

Chloe realized her interest in what Billy had to say took her mind off trying to get away. Now it was too late. She waited for Billy to open the door before swinging her hurt ankle to the ground. The trailer was parked under a large weeping willow at the end of a lane in a camper court. They were hooked up to electricity and sewage.

"Whose trailer is this anyway?" she asked, hopping alongside him.

"Schillings owns two of them; one he lives in and this one is for business."

"A rich guy like him? That doesn't make sense. Maybe he has a house somewhere no one knows about?"

"Don't think so. I've worked for him for over five years and I would know something like that."

"He must have a boss . . . someone he calls and takes orders from?"

"Don't we all? I hear him talking to someone all the time, but I don't have a clue who he is. Schillings has been acting really strange lately. I think it has to do with Thunder's death. Then his brother shows up asking questions with you and we have his kid."

"You have any idea how much trouble you're in for knowing about a kidnapping and not reporting it? It's a federal offense."

"Shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear it."

"Just thought you should know. Prison time buster. Maybe if you help me get Nuttah out of here, they would drop all charges against you." Chloe grabbed his arm to help walk. Her ankle had to be broken. It was the size of a grapefruit.

"Keep your mouth shut in there. I don't know what I can do, but I sure as hell don't want prison time. You let them know I've been talking to you and I'll shoot you myself."

Billy opened the trailer door and Chloe hobbled over to the couch and sat down.

"What the hell you bring her here for?" Koko tossed back the balance of her drink.

"Charlie get here yet?"

"No, why is he coming here? You two were supposed to . . . what happened?"

"I don't have to answer to you, Koko. Why don't you go sleep it off."

"Fuck you Billy."

"You have such a foul mouth when you're drunk. Is this what you want your daughter to see?"

"She's here . . . so I'm outta here. Tell Schilling I went to my place to get some clean clothes and get away from this dungeon. Don't know when I'll be back . . . but when I do come back – she better be gone."

"Not your decision, Koko."

"You dumb ass, you do realize she's now seen your face and mine. I thought . . . never mind. I'm out of here."

"Glad you're going. I'll give Schilling your message."

"Fuck you, Billy."

"Ditto."

Chloe chuckled at their interaction. She just might be able to talk him into helping yet. "May I go back and get Nuttah?"

"Sure. You might ask her is she's eaten. Seems like everyone around here forgets a growing kid needs food and water."

Chloe walked to the back bedroom and looked around. She backtracked and checked every room, which brought her back to Billy. "She's not here."

"What do you mean, she's not here?"

"Billy, I checked every room. You've got to tell me where they've taken her."

"I don't have a clue." He pulled out his phone and turned his back to her.

She sat back on the couch and rested her foot on the coffee table.

"Schilling, it's me, Billy. Say Koko said to tell you she's gone back to her place. Charlie is headed this way. Uh . . . did you take kid somewhere else? No, she's gone? I don't know. Koko was here and after she left I went back to the bedroom and the kid is nowhere to be found. Okay . . .I'll check again, but I'm telling you she isn't here."

Chloe waited and watched as he stormed to the back bedroom, slammed a couple doors open and shut.

"I checked . . . the kids gone. What you want me to do? Yeah, she's here. Got her tied up and sitting on the couch. I think her ankle is broken. Charlie said he's in a bad way and they don't expect him to pull through. We'll be here." He hung up and tossed the phone on the coffee table.

"He doesn't know where Nuttah is?" Chloe asked.

"Said she was supposed to be here. He thinks Koko might have had a change of heart and took her. That's between them."

"You don't really care what happens to that ten-year-old, do you?" She watched him squirm. "I want to go look for her. Maybe she snuck out while Koko was sleeping? Why don't you call here?"

He picked up his phone and dialed. "Koko, you got the kid with you? I wouldn't be asking if she was here, now would I. I checked the bathroom and every room. I'm telling you she isn't here. Well, fuck you too." He dropped the phone in his pocket and sat down in a recliner.

"She didn't have Nuttah, did she? You have to let me go look for her."

"I can't . . . they'll kill me."

"Billy, you have a chance to do something good. That I would guess doesn't happen very often. How about I grab that bat." Chloe maneuvered her loosely tied palms over the end and swung it over her shoulder. "What if I swing this sucker and hit your gun away." His gun went flying across the room, hit the window and broke it. "Now how about I swing again and catch you on the jaw."

Billy dropped to the carpet like a boxer catching a left hook.

Chloe smiled, then said, "Sorry about that Billy, but I've got to hit and run before Charlie gets here. You don't mind if I borrow your cell phone, do you?" She patted Billy down and grabbed his phone, keys, and his gun. She wondered if her Glock was still locked safely away at her aunt's house. Now wasn't the time to worry about it.

By the time she reached the hospital, Chloe gained back some of her confidence. She parked to the backside of the building, under several trees and hobbled to ER.

"You okay, Lady? Would you like a wheelchair," an attendant asked while rushing for one.

"I'd accept that. Could you get me a doctor right away?"

"As soon as we get the paperwork—"

"Now! Just do it, please?" She gave him a pleading expression, hoping it was better than pointing the gun at him.

"Oh, Doctor Anders, this lady—"

"Doctor Anders, I'm sure you're busy, but could you please take me to a secure room where we can talk immediately?"

"It's fine, Don, I'll take it from here. Please go sit with my patient in B22. Thank you." She moved behind Chloe and pushed the chair down the hall. "This is my office, we can speak privately here. What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm FBI, plain and simple. I'm on sensitive case and I can't show evidence I've been treated here. I believe I've either fractured or broken my ankle in a car accident."

"Might you name be Chloe?"

"How on earth would you know that?" She glanced around to room to make sure they were alone.

"You're the woman our handsome Native patient keeps asking for, aren't you?"

"Once we fix my ankle, I need your help taking Mingan out of here with me." She hoped she sounded confident and in charge.

"I don't know why, but I actually believe you. Mr. Keme has been doing a pretty good job faking a coma. I figured he has a good reason to want people to think he can't talk or communicate. I've been his attending physician since he was admitted. Why must you take him out of here - we can take care of him here, both physically and mentally?"

Chloe laughed. "Well, as much I might question his sanity, there's nothing wrong with him in that department.

Doctor Anders laughed.

"Is he sedated?"

"No, I haven't found it necessary. He has a nasty cut and bump on the back of his head, but that's actually healing nicely. I've been playing along with his coma, but I had a cut-off date for that in mind."

"Someone is— ow, that hurt." She forgot about her ankle needing attention. The smell of antiseptics and other medical items made her stomach queasy.

"Well, it could very well be broken, but let's forego the xray and I'll just put a boot cast on it. Will give you more mobility than a traditional cast, and you won't need crutches. Only, if you promise to come back in two weeks and let me see how it's doing."

"I'll agree, but if I don't show up . . . send the FBI after me!" she chuckled then grit her teeth as Doctor Anders slipped the book over her foot.

"Pretty tender, huh? If this happened in that accident, you've been hobbling around on it way too long. Would you like a few pain pills to take the edge off?"

"No, can't afford not being completely alert." Chloe moved the boot around and nodded at the results.

"Here's a small bottle of Tylenol. I could easily release Mr. Keme, but if you are serious about not wanting anyone to know, I will have him loaded on a stretcher and I'll take him down to imaging. Take the stairs to the right and go to basement floor and wait for me there. Where are you parked?"

"To the backside of the hospital under a couple of huge weeping willows." Chloe found the walking cast an incredible improvement already.

"Perfect. How does that cast feel?"

"Better already, but I can't worry about that. I'll meet you downstairs." Chloe let Doctor Anders leave first, then quietly left her office and exited down the stairs. She moved slow and as quiet as she could on the metal stairs. On the final landing she waited just inside the door, watching through the small square window for Doctor Anders and Mingan. The scent of vehicle exhaust sent a wave of nausea over her.

"Okay, come on out, Chloe. It's quite a walk to where you've parked your car so I'm going to give you a ride. Follow me."

Chloe barely heard a word. She couldn't keep her gaze off Thunder. She forgot how handsome he was. She hadn't worried about a man in years . . . she didn't want to care, but if she was honest she did care about Mingan Keme.

"You okay? What happened to your foot? That a cast? Damn, it happened in the accident, didn't it? I just knew you were in that car with me." He handed over her purse.

"You have it? They didn't take it?" Chloe grabbed for her bag.

"Oh, they took the box alright, but not your purse. Your cell phone is even there. Hope you don't mind I checked."

"If they have the box, then we don't have any bargaining leverage to save Nuttah. Wait—"

"We can discuss that later. Right now let's concentrate on getting out of here without anyone spotting us."

"Okay," Doctor Anders said. "I just saw a guy run across that lawn with a gun in his hand. My first guess is he's after you, Mr. Keme, or even you Miss Chloe."

"Damn, how do they do that? Every time I think we're ahead of them, were not." Chloe hobbled as fast as she could with her boot cast.

"I want you to push me down, grab my keys and take my car."

"I couldn't do that. You're the only one in this place I trust. You're helping us—"

"Oh, you aren't helping us. I made you go get Mr. Keme and bring him down here to me. I pushed you away and took your car. I'm okay with that," Chloe said. She pushed Doctor Anders to the cement floor and grabbed her keys. "You okay?" she quickly asked.

"Yes, but I'll have a very nice bruise on my arm. Get out of here. Hopefully this will be over and you'll be back here in two weeks so I can look at that foot."

Chloe chuckled and tossed the keys to Mingan. "Once a doctor . . . always a doctor. Thank you." Not waiting a moment longer, Chloe nearly ran around the vehicle and slid into the passenger seat.

"No, this is wrong. Climb in the backseat and lay down. I don't want anyone seeing you're not in a coma. I'll drive . . . just in case."

"That won't be easy with that cast on your foot, will it?"

"Don't argue with me . . . just do it." She got out and walked back around the car and slid behind the wheel. She squealed out of parking garage and headed for the freeway.

"You have any idea where we're going?"

Chloe took a deep breath and shook off the shivers. "Before my aunt decided to get married and move to Australia she bought me a small cabin across the lake. I haven't told anyone that, since it's . . . my space. I come and go from there during cases. Once Aunt Francis asked me to watch the main house, I decided to let people think I couldn't really afford anything, and so I was house sitting until her place sold. Truth is she doesn't plan on selling it. It's willed to me. Actually . . . I'm her only living relative. We only have each other, so I was devastated when she moved across the continent. She is like a mother to me and I love her dearly. I wish she was here right now. I've always thought of her as my rock. It's been difficult since she left. I know it's good for me to be totally on my own . . . but I miss her dearly."

"You might not have thought of this, but it will be easy to find a house in your name."

"True if my name is Chloe Evans, which it has been for two years." She wondered if she should have told him. She wanted to trust him . . . but it was hard.

"Mind my asking what your real name is?"

She paused . . . now was the moment of truth. Did she trust Mingan Keme? Could she let him in her circle where few were allowed?

"Maybe it's best you don't tell me. I can't tell what I don't know."

She drew in a breath. "I'm sorry . . . but I have bad news to tell you . . . well, I don't know if it's bad or good. Billy took me back to the trailer and Koko was there. She spouted off and left. I went to go see Nuttah . . . she was gone."

"What do you mean she was gone?" Mingan sat.

"Get back down. I'm not taking any chances. She was gone. Billy suggested Koko had a change of heart and took her. I don't believe that for a second. I think the smart little cookie escaped. I don't know where she'd go or how'd she'd get there, but I think she got away."

"We need to go back there and start searching for her?"

"No, that's exactly what they'd expect us to do. They don't know Chogan or Machk. You should send them scouting the area."

"Good idea."

Chloe concentrated on driving and making sure they weren't being followed, while Mingan called his uncle. Her foot ached and she wished it were her left foot that had the cast. She drove around the block several times before hitting the garage door opener and driving inside. It closed and enveloped them in darkness.

She got out of the car and quickly entered the key code and opened the side door. "It might be a bit musty . . . I haven't been back here in almost six months."

"Why? This has to be the cutest darn place I've ever seen. It's . . . like walking inside a tipi. I feel right at home here. You surprise me, Chloe."

"And what is so surprising, Mingan?" She loved her place and wasn't surprised he found it charming.

"It's totally Native. Why didn't you tell me you were part Native American? You are, aren't you?"

"Well, you never asked. You were so quick to judge me, that it never even occur to you to ask my nationality. Thunder never knew."

"Really? Okay, what is your nationality, Chloe?"

"I'm one-quarter French and Chippewa Cree Indian, and half Polish." Quite the mixture, huh? I never knew my any of my Polish family from my father's side. My mother and aunt are the French-Native side. Why don't we both take a shower and freshen up . . . I meant each of us . . . in separate showers . . ." She rolled her eyes upward.

"If you're offering . . . I accept."

"What . . . no . . . I mean you go ahead and I'll take mine when you're done." The heat of embarrassment raced up her neck and across her cheeks.

"You really blushing? Now I know how to fluster you." His laughter filled the room.

She couldn't help but join him. She wondered the last time she'd laughed. When was the last time this house heard laughter? Bridger . . . that was when. She did not want to go there.

"What? What's wrong? You suddenly look like you're going to cry. Chogan and Macht will find Nuttah, I'm sure of it."

"After you shower, call and tell them how to get to Aunt Francis's house so they have a place to stay. Where have they been staying?"

"Uh, I already told them they could stay there, hope you don't mind. I thought it would make sense. But if the house has been watched, they would know what they look like and I just sent them to try and find Nuttah."

"It doesn't matter, Mingan. Them . . . us . . . someone has to be looking. I don't suppose you would know where she might go?" Chloe went up the open, spiral staircase and headed for the bathroom. "There are supplies here," she grabbed an oversized towel, box of Safeguard, travel razor and shaving cream, and a wash cloth and placed them on the white marble sink counter.

"You're well equipped for a male visitor."

"It was a hundred years ago. Take your shower and stop asking questions." She walked toward the door and he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. She looked up into his coppery brown eyes. She drew in her breath and slowly released it. He lowered his head and she waited for his kiss. His lips covered hers warm, soft and inviting. As much as Chloe wanted to resist . . . she wanted it. This was a case and Mingan was involved. She pulled back and left the room without a word. She went to each room and opened the windows and doors and turned on the ceiling fans . . . the evening fresh air felt wonderful.

She went downstairs and opened windows in every room and flipped on the ceiling fans to get some fresh air circulating. Her ankle throbbed slightly, but it seemed to feel better already. Once that was done she headed for the kitchen. She heard the shower and wondered what Mingan looked like in the buff. She shouldn't be thinking about it. She should be thinking about her next step in finding Nuttah and Thunder's killer. She needed to go back to work and find out what everyone was talking about.

She opened the freezer and took out several lobster tails and filled the sink with water and dropped them into it. She'd make a rice pilaf and that would have to do. She wanted a salad, but that wasn't going to happen. She loved to cook . . . it was relaxing and comforting. She grabbed a bottle of chardonnay from the wine cooler to let it breath.

Heading up the stairs she realized the shower was off. She stood in front of the partially closed bathroom door. "Down the hall to the left is my spare bedroom. Riffle through the drawers and closet you might find something to fit you. I won't make any promises."

"Okay, thanks. I'll be done in about five minutes."

"No rush." She turned and went to her bedroom and stood in the doorway and smiled. Too bad Mingan couldn't see this room.

"Wow . . . this is amazing," Mingan almost whispered.

Chloe jumped and turned into him. "Oh . . . you scared me. I should have been more—"

"I don't mind . . . you can bump into me anytime."

He smelled of Safeguard and musk shaving cream and she wanted to lose herself in his arms. "I should go take my shower."

"You keep looking at me like that and you'll go nowhere except—" He pulled her against him and kissed her hard and demanding.

Her head told her to pull back . . . but her body wouldn't listen. She melted into his arms and returned his kiss with want and excitement. Chloe felt alive for the first time in six years. She told herself she didn't need the attentions of a man. She didn't need the physical sharing. She didn't need the relationship. She could tell herself that every day . . . but Mingan's kiss shouted . . . liar.

He lifted her in his arms and walked to the bathroom. "We should find a plastic bag for that cast."

"Oh, I forgot about the damn thing. In the kitchen, bottom right drawer there are all sorts of bags and the drawer above has tape and scissors."

"I'll be right back."

Chloe sat on the toilet seat cover and waited. She didn't want to rely on a man – period. She'd been down that road once before and it broke her heart. Mingan returned with several items in hand. She sat still, silent, as he slipped the plastic bag over her cast.

"This might sound forward, but you'd better take those jeans and undies off or you'll just pull the bag right off the cast after all my work."

"You think so, huh? You might have a point there. Okay, turn around."

"Really?"

"Really."

She waited while he turned around . . . chuckling as he did.

She quickly slipped out of her clothes and grabbed a towel and wrapped it high under her armpits and sat back down. "Okay I'm ready, Doctor Mingan." She couldn't help feeling uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

"You have any idea how absolutely beautiful you are? Uh, I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to say that. I'm . . . trying like hell to resist you. But I'm not succeeding any more than I did the day I spotted you selling t-shirts two years ago. You didn't notice me . . . you had eyes only for Thunder." He pulled the bag over her cast and taped it tight, sealing the edges.

"I noticed you . . . believe me I did notice you. But I had a job to do . . . and I still have a job to do."

"So this is where you tell me . . . maybe after the case . . . and I go back to Montana we can stay friends and see if something develops later?"

She didn't miss the disappointment in his tone. Chloe stood and slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. A shot of adrenaline jolted her completely. She leaned back and said, "No, this is where I ask if you'd care to share my shower with me. With the cast and all . . . I don't want to fall and hurt myself."

"I agree, one slip and you could really cause some damage." He reached over and turned the shower on, dropped his towel, then gave hers a slight yank.

The time for talking had passed. She literally fell into his arms as he guided them into the glass encasement. He touched her everywhere . . . and she couldn't get enough. Every inch of her was on fire and needing more.

He lathered the loofah with Moonlight Path jell and lathered every inch of her. She leaned into him, enjoying the intimacy . . . the tenderness. He knew how to excite a woman.

"You are amazing. I forgot how enjoyable it is to be with a beautiful woman."

"How long," she breathed.

"Try three years."

Chloe looked him in the eyes for a moment. "I've got you beat, try six years. Oh, I've dated and even enjoyed a few of them, but I didn't want to take them to my bed. I didn't want to get to know them. I didn't care about them . . . but I do you." She kissed him deep and giving.

"That about sums it up for me, too. I don't really believe in sex . . . I believe in making love. Call it old-fashioned, but it's just how I am."

"Would you like to make love to me, Mingan?"

"I've wanted to since I saw you in Montana. I didn't want to admit it and I'll be honest, I was damn mad at you. But that's a conversation I want to have at another time. I want to take you to your room and lay you on those buffalo robes." He reached over and turned off the water.

"What are you waiting for?" She gave him a soft kiss and allowed him to pick her up and carry her toward her room. "Bring me over to that counter so I can flip that blue switch." She reached out and turned on the surround sound. Water flowing over rocks and birds chirping became background to Mary Youngblood's mystical Native flute.

She clung to Mingan as he lowered her to the floor. He slid his palm across her cheek and rubbed he thumb across her jaw line. She never knew it could be so sensual. He kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth teasing. He moved his hand from her cheek into her hair, pulling her closer.

He kissed her neck, down her throat, finding her breast, drawing a nipple into his mouth, flicking the tip, while bringing the other taunt between his fingers. He dragged his tongue down her ribs, then flat stomach. He kissed the inside of her thigh and Chloe gasped, every inch of her alive. She pulsated with anticipation.

He moved up and kissed her hard. "You sure you want this?"

"Yes, can't you tell?" she answered nearly breathless. "Maybe it's you who is having second thoughts about making love to a napikwan?"

"Wrong. If I didn't want to . . . I wouldn't be hovering over you and longing to be inside. I want you to be sure."

Chloe reached up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer and wrapping her legs around his hips. "Does that answer your question?"

He entered her and her heart beat against her breast. They moved in rhythm with the drums and he took her away from everything but the sweet bliss of his love.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Nine

Mingan lost himself in making love to Chloe. She electrified his senses like no other woman. He kissed her hard . . . then soft. Her willing responses drove him further and further with increased excitement and desire. He kissed her neck, her clavicle and shoulder. "You are incredible, Chloe."

"Skylar." She flipped him over and straddled him.

"What?"

"My name . . . is Skylar. I shouldn't have told you that. You call me anything but Chloe and it could prove disastrous."

"It wasn't easy for you to share that with me, was it?"

"No. But . . . making love to you isn't easy either. I mean . . . I didn't mean making love is difficult . . . it is fabulous." She smiled and moved against him. I meant deciding to allow you this close to me is difficult. Plus, I'm working a case and I shouldn't be involved with anyone connected to it."

"I'm not connected to your case. I'm connected to Thunder, I think there's a difference. We're working together, so I don't think there's any conflict of interest." He reached up and grabbed her hips, guiding her to a tempo that excited his needs. She moved above him, her breasts taunt and beautiful. She took the length of him and he literally exploded inside her.

"That was . . . was—"

"Incredible," she finished the sentence.

"How stupid could we be?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You regret it already?"

She stiffened and he pulled her against hm. "No way in hell I regret what we just shared. Stupid in we didn't use protection. That was impulsive and—

"Don't worry. I'm on the pill to regulate my menstruation. At least one of us was thinking."

He pulled her against his chest. "Goes to show you I don't let myself go like this that often. I don't believe sex is out there just to make one feel good. Making love to a woman should mean something. It shouldn't have happened this quickly between us, to be honest. But . . . I wanted to be close to you Chloe . . . Skylar. You know that fits you? What's your last name?"

"Peil. My great-great grandfather was a French trapper. He married a Chippewa Cree woman, Little Fawn. They had a daughter who had red hair like mine and they named her Sky Eyes. No need to ask why they named her that. I'm named after her. My grandmother said we are the only other red-heads in the family."

"I like that story. That explains this house . . . this room. It's like being back in the eighteen-hundreds. How did you do it?"

"I look for collectors selling Native American items. Many of them . . . like the parafleches over there, and the bone lounge chair, and of course the bows and arrows hanging behind us. The buffalo hides and rabbit blankets are fresh and new. I made them this past winter. I have another room filled with dresses, moccasins, and all sorts of Native collectibles."

"They don't belong in a room . . . they should be displayed in museums to share the beauty of Native American culture."

"I agree whole heartedly. When I locate the tribe that would appreciate an item, I sell it at the price I paid from the collector. If I find medicine bundles, I buy them, verify the tribe and contact them for a transfer of possession ceremony and donate them. I don't understand why people don't understand the priceless significance of Native American artifacts."

"I really did judge you wrong, didn't I? Did Thunder know all this about you?" He wondered what their relationship was like. He envied his brother's claim of engagement, even though it was a lie.

"No, we didn't talk about me. You know what he was like. And remember, we really weren't in a relationship. We were friends . . . but in ways I don't even know if we qualified as friends. We never shared much of anything. There was no chemistry. He needed me and I needed him . . . in a non-intimate sort of way."

"You didn't kiss? Didn't people suspect?"

"He'd tell everyone I was shy and didn't like public affection. It worked somehow."

"Interesting."

"I spent more time with Nuttah. I knew the day would come when I'd have to leave her, and it breaks my heart to think about it. She's everything I'd love my daughter to be like. She is nothing like her father or her mother. I'd say your parents must have been the influence that has made her the lovely girl she is today."

"My mother would be pleased to hear such praise, as would my father. They were heartbroken when Thunder took her away from them. The whole family was angry and hurt." He choked back the emotion that filled him. He worried about his niece and wondered if he should call his father, he'd know what to do.

"In the morning we should go talk to Paula DuPare. What can you tell me about that incident?"

Glenn's wife was expecting and she said she didn't want him to go, in case the baby came early. I was still Thunder's trainer and we were pretty good friends with Glenn and Paula. Now that you mention it, I think it was a month after his death that Thunder changed."

"Do you know where his wife is now?"

Mingan thought for a moment, then said, "She might still live in the same place she and Glenn lived. If that's true, I know where. If she's moved back to where her folks live . . . it would be somewhere in Iowa if I'm not mistaken. Let's get some sleep and head over there first thing in the morning."

He glanced down at a sleeping Skylar. Her thick dark lashes were in stark contrast to her porcelain skin. She looked fragile, she was anything but. It felt good holding her in his arms. If only they had Nuttah back and his brother's murder behind them.

* * *

"What on earth smells so good?"

Mingan smiled and looked up from the pan. "I found pancake mix and some frozen bacon. I looked for maple syrup but didn't find any."

"I can't stand maple anything."

Mingan laughed. "Believe it or not, neither can I. I did find some frozen butter . . . who freezes butter?"

"I travel a lot."

"Hmm, well I'm glad you did. The coffee is ready if you want to pour it and I'll bring the bacon and pancakes."

"You cook . . . I'm impressed."

"Love to cook. It's comforting and exciting. I love watching cooking shows and learning from them. Haven't had much time for such things lately, but now that I've finished school . . . and when we have Nuttah back and expose Thunder's killer . . . I'm looking forward to some stability."

"Will Nuttah go live with your parents?"

Mingan thought about her question and realized he hadn't given it all that much thought. "I actually think she should come live with me. She is my daughter now. I will see she spends a lot of time with her grandmother and grandfather, but she should live with me."

"I'm impressed. You really feel that way . . . don't you?" She stuffed a large bite of pancake into her mouth.

Mingan chuckled, finished chewing his bacon and swallowed it down with several sips of hot coffee. "Yes. It's common practice among my people. Relatives always step up to take care of each other." He loved the ways of his people and how they supported each other.

They didn't waste much time eating and Mingan found himself lost in thoughts all the way to the DuPare home. He pulled into the drive and turned off the ignition.

"Do you think Paula will speak with us?"

"I should have gone to see her after Glenn's death. I'm ashamed to say I haven't once. What do you say when a man supposedly tried to kill his pregnant wife and then shoots himself in the head. I still don't understand it and probably never will."

They walked up to the front door side-by-side. Mingan knocked softly and waited. Just ready to knock a second time the door eased open. A rather worn-out Paula DuPare stood before him. Recognition slowly washed over her face.

"Well, Mingan Keme," she said. "I didn't expect it to be you." She stepped forward and gave him a warm hug. "Would you like to come in? Is this your wife?" She glanced over at Chloe.

"Girlfriend. Chloe, I'd like you to meet Paula DuPare. Paula this is my girlfriend, Chloe Evans."

They shook hands, then Paula stepped back. "Come on in. Would you two like some coffee?"

"We'd love some. How have you been doing?"

"Follow me to the kitchen where we can talk. Glenn Junior is still sleeping and since he was up vomiting around three this morning, I'd like him to stay sleeping."

"The thrills of being a parent, huh?" Chloe commented.

"You have children, Chloe?"

"No and since my clock is ticking, as the saying goes, I hope to have some one day soon."

"There is nothing like it. But, I'm sure you didn't come to hear about motherhood. Why are you here, Mingan?"

"First is to apologize." He held a chair open for Chloe, then sat next to her.

"Apologize? Whatever for?"

"I should have taken . . . believed you when you said Glenn would never have tried to kill you and Glenn Junior. I don't mean to dredge up your nightmare, Paula, but would you mind telling me what you know about that night. This time I promise to listen."

"I . . . it wouldn't be dredging anything up . . . because it has never gone far from my thoughts in all these years. I go over and over it . . . and wonder what have I forgotten? What did I miss?"

"You both were home watching TV?" Mingan prompted.

"No, actually Glenn was in the living room watching a WWE match and I was angry with him because I wanted to watch something funny and light. We didn't get all that much time together and when we did I didn't want to spend it watching or talking about wrestling. So I decided I wanted a nice long, quiet soak in the tub."

"If I remember right, someone had been over for dinner earlier, right?"

"You were listening more than you thought. Yes, Arik and Theresa Wheat."

"Really? He's my boss. I sell wrestling memorabilia, tickets, and whatever needs to be done in the office."

"We were really good friends and took turns every Saturday having each other over for dinner and we'd play cards afterwards. Both Theresa and I were pregnant and due within weeks of each other."

"Anything specific happen that night that seemed strange or odd to you?" Chloe asked.

"That's just it. After dinner the guys went outside to the patio and had a huge fight. Theresa and I were cleaning up the dishes and were shocked. Arik shoved Glenn in the chest with his fists. Theresa and I both raced to the patio and just as we opened the door, like a lightning flash Glenn punched Arik in the nose. They never came to our house again. It was shortly after that when Glenn started acting . . . nervous."

"Then what?" Mingan asked.

"In a month he acted paranoid and downright afraid. He called in sick for events, missed practices, and suddenly didn't want go to any of the team barbecue get-togethers."

"You told the police all this?"

"Yes. What I didn't tell them was that we were planning on leaving Florida without telling anyone. Glenn told me not to tell a soul, but he wouldn't tell me why. You are the first person I've revealed that to."

"Thank you for trusting me. You heard . . . about Thunder?"

"Yes and I think whoever killed Glenn, killed Thunder."

"But Glenn shot himself after shooting you, didn't he?" Chloe asked.

"You see that's the part that gets tricky. The police said the front door was locked on the inside and nothing indicated anyone broke in. The only person who could have shot me was Glenn."

"You didn't see who shot you?" Mingan asked.

"I was relaxing with my back to the door and my eyes closed. That would have reflected in the mirror tiles. I heard someone open the door and I thought it was Glenn and so I decided to get him wet and I scooped up water with my hand in one fast motion and tossed it at him. At the same time I heard a loud pop sound . . ." Paula paused, swallowed hard, then drew in a slow breath. "I kept my eyes closed. My arm burned and I dropped back into the tub. I held still and after a few seconds I heard the door close."

"Did you hear the second shot?" Chloe asked.

"The tub was filling with flood and I knew I had to get my arm wrapped to stop the bleeding. I grabbed a pillow case out of the linen closet, folded it and wrapped it tight around my arm. I had just finished doing that when I heard the second shot."

"That long after you were shot. What . . . maybe five to eight minutes?" Chloe asked.

"It could have been as much as ten. And I'll be honest, I thought I heard two men shouting at each other. The police said it was probably the TV. I don't think so. I think Glenn knew I was shot . . . hurt or dead before they killed him."

"You don't believe attempted murder-suicide?" Chloe set her coffee cup down.

"I'll never believe that. If you knew Glenn, you wouldn't believe that either. He was a strict Catholic. Suicide means eternal damnation. He loved me and was excited about the baby. No, he did not do this to us."

Mingan leaned back in his chair. "Are you aware of anyone else who might have been going through anything similar to Glenn? Did he say anything that might be helpful?"

"I had something . . . that I sold . . . that paid off this house. If I hadn't done that, we'd never make it alone. It was Glenn's way of protecting us." She got up from the table and opened a cupboard door above the stove. She emptied a clear plastic container filled with raw macaroni and retrieved a paper from it. She slid it across the table toward them.

Mingan stared at a snapshot of six raw diamonds. "When did he give these to you?"

"He didn't. About four months after he died I happened to notice the lock card for the small safe in his closet. It looked like a series of books alongside all his other wrestling and hunting books. So I opened it . . . and found a letter from him to me."

"You still have that letter?" Chloe asked.

"No. I burned it. The police would have said it was his suicide letter. I refused to add to their lame theory."

"That's okay, Paula. We understand, truly we do. Can you tell us what his letter said?" He waited while she drank several sips from her coffee cup.

"He said he was sorry he didn't protect me better. He said if something happened to him I was to take the diamonds to Gerry's Rock Shop, it's about a three hour drive from here. He told me to make payments on the house and my bills each month with money orders. That way no one could prove I had a large sum of money, nor could it be traced. That money will last about two more years. I'm taking some on-line courses for getting my degree in psychology. I plan to have a practice before the money runs out."

"That's all his note said?"

"That was it . . . no . . . at the bottom he said I should stay away from Arik and Theresa."

"Did either of them try to talk to you after Glenn's death?" Chloe asked.

"That's the strangest thing. Theresa didn't even call me once. Neither came to Glenn's funeral. I just don't understand why they tried to kill me. I didn't know anything. No attempt has been made on my life since. Everyone has just left me alone."

"Was Glenn asking questions around the rink or training center that you know of?" Mingan pulled his palm over his lips. He should have cared enough to see Glenn had been murdered.

"I think he found out something he never expected. Once he knew . . . he wasn't good at acting like he knew nothing. He wasn't good at lying."

Chloe sat up straight and drew in a deep breath. "I know this question will seem strange, but did Glenn have a place that he could hide papers or maybe a video that was his private place? Or did you run across anything of his that seemed out of place? Did he say anything strange that might give us a clue where he hid something?"

"No, I don't know of anything . . ." Paula stood. "I . . . thought it odd at the time . . . and haven't thought about it . . . until now. We were going to leave town and not tell a soul. I was so afraid and even more afraid what all this stress was doing to our unborn child."

"What did you remember, Paula?" Mingan asked.

"He told me . . . not once . . . not twice, but three times to be sure and pack our wedding book." She went into the living room and opened the bottom door of the entertainment center.

Mingan followed Paula and motioned for Chloe to join them. They sat on the couch while Paula pulled photo albums and envelopes of loose pictures onto the floor. Finally toward the back she retrieved a large white wedding book.

"At first I thought it was so sweet of him to care that much about our wedding pictures. By the third time I was annoyed that he felt I'd forget. I zipped it into the front pocket of the suitcase barely two days before he died."

"Was the house ransacked any time before he was shot?" Chloe asked.

"Well actually yes. We went out to the movies with Arik and Theresa about a month before their big fight. When we got home we realized we'd been burglarized. They took our computer, TV, camera, and everything of value. The police said two other houses in our neighborhood had been burglarized the same way. We didn't think anything more of it . . . other than feeling violated. That's when we put in the expensive security alarm system."

"Did Arik have anything to do with that system?" Chloe asked.

"Well . . . yes, it was the same system he had installed at their house. He even showed . . . dear Lord. He showed Glenn how to set the security code. I wouldn't be surprised if he set it. I'm going to change it today."

"No, don't do anything different than you normally do." Chloe looked around the house. "Do you ever find little things moved . . . and wonder how it happened, then decide you must have done it yourself . . . because you know no one else could have?"

"Actually yes, all the time. Just yesterday I found my mail piled nice and ditty on the kitchen table. It's delivered through the mail slot on the front door. It should have been inside on the floor. Yet, it wasn't. It stopped me cold. But then I talked myself in believing that I must have done it myself. The alarm was still on."

"So they're still looking for something Glenn had. They've been looking for something Thunder had, too. I'd venture a guess both contained evidence revealing the players and what is going on." Mingan leaned forward when Paula placed the album on the coffee table.

She pulled a thin chain from around her neck. "The theme for our wedding was you have the key to my heart. So for a gift he gave me this sterling silver heart and small skeleton key. The key actually opens our wedding book."

"That is a cute idea," Chloe said.

Paula smiled. "This is strange."

"How do you mean, strange?" Mingan asked.

"Well, it seems thicker and heavier." She slipped the key into the lock and it popped open.

Mingan stared at a wooden box, the cover intricately carved with ivory inlays. "It's identical to the other one," he said.

"What other one? I've never seen this before," Paula said.

"This is what they've been looking for." Mingan lifted it out of the hollow wedding album and lifted the cover off. "Well, would you look at this? Another bag of raw diamonds, a ticket to Nairobi, Kenya, a piece of paper with contact names and phone numbers, and spread across the bottom are eight gold medallions. This looks damn familiar."

"Dear Lord in heaven. I had no idea this was in my house."

"They suspected Glenn hid it in the house and if you had known about it you would have shared it with the police already. Since you aren't spending big . . . they trust you are innocent. That's why they haven't been threatening you."

"You think they are watching me?"

Mingan could tell just the thought brought her to tears. "Maybe in the beginning but now, two years later, no I don't think so. They come when you're not home and continue their search, but they won't bother you."

"Was Glenn planning on going to Africa?" Chloe asked.

"He was going to be a part of the nets for wiping out malaria. He was excited about it. But then Thunder showed up here and they talked outside. Next thing I know, Glenn doesn't want to go to Africa because I was pregnant. I was happy he wasn't going, the place scares me. That was shortly before he and Arik had that fight. He would never tell me what it was about."

"I'd like to take this with us . . . if you trust us," Mingan said.

"I don't want it here. Take it and prove my husband did not try to kill me and committed suicide. It would be the greatest gift I could give my son."

"We'll do our best to prove his murder. We won't mention the diamond sale to anyone at any time. Don't do anything that might cause suspicion. Do everything the same way you have the past two years."

"I will. Mingan, I'm sorry about Thunder. I didn't believe he hung himself from the get go. No one believed me and I'm sure they didn't believe you."

"The autopsy proved he didn't commit suicide but they don't have a clue who or why."

"We're not all that far ahead of them if we're honest. We'll do all we can to prove Glenn's innocence." Chloe stood and headed for the door.

Mingan followed Chloe and gave Paula a hug at the door. "Don't tell anyone we've talked."

"Who would I tell?"

"Got it. When this is over . . . I'll come see you. Until then, take care of yourself and Glenn Junior."

"I will. It was nice meeting you, Chloe. I hope someday we'll have a chance to meet again. I have a feeling we could be great friends."

"Thank you, Paula. You just might be right."

Silence filled the car while Mingan drove away from Paula's house. "Okay, what do you think?" he finally asked.

"I like her."

"No, not that. What do you think about the box?" He glanced her way and realized she had just been kidding.

"I need to go back to work tomorrow. I'll get closer to Arik. He's the key to this entire nightmare."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea. I think it's really dangerous. I'm going to train tomorrow and see if anything feels out of place. Maybe someone will give us something to work on. I fight in four days."

"Should I steer clear of you . . . or . . . how do you want to play it?"

"I don't want to play it. I want you at the fight as my girlfriend. The media will love it and it just might open some doors." He sensed her hesitation and liked it. "Come on, do it for real this time."

"But . . . what will your parents and family think of me? They think I was engaged to your brother and now I'm your girlfriend. What does that make me?"

Mingan laughed. "You must like us Indian boys!"

"Not funny. I'm sure the media will have a hay-day with it. I think it might be more effective if I hate you. I don't want you taking Thunder's place. I don't want you around the wrestling arena. I'll publicly tell you to go back to Montana."

"I get it. You want to buddy up to Thunder's enemies. Might work . . . most likely won't." He could tell she wasn't happy. No doubt she liked being in control.

"And why not?"

"How many people do you think have seen you and me together? We were at Tag Team a couple of times and Schilling isn't a fool, he knows we're working together. They know you love Nuttah don't they? Your hating me isn't an option."

"Don't look so smug. I see your point."

He pulled into the driveway of Chloe's aunt's house and pushed the garage door opener. "I'm going to Yamaba to check the schedule for training. If no one is scheduled I'll put in a few workout hours. On my way home I can pick up some Chinese takeout if you'd like."

"Why are we here? You trying to get us killed?"

"You're going back to work and I'm definitely fighting on Friday. We can't hide out at your place. Besides, we could be followed . . . and I'd hate to see anyone ransack your beautiful home."

"I guess you're right. I'm not all that—"

"Hey! Where have you two been?" Chogan opened the car door and pulled Mingan out and embraced him.

"I didn't even think of calling you. I'll explain it all later. Any sign of Nuttah yet?" He glanced around in hopes of seeing her.

"We have done nothing but search for her. Maybe Koko has her after all?"

Mingan opened the back door and carefully retrieved his jacket. "I'm going to grab my gym bag and head for the training center. I want you standing guard. Where is Machk?" Mingan stood in the living room and shook his head.

"Oh, no, not again! How many more things will they break?" Chloe got down on her knees and picked up several large pieces of glass.

"Don't, Chloe, you'll cut yourself. I'll clean it all up after I get back."

"This was very old and very expensive. Aunt Francis loved this piece."

"Maybe we can replace it before your aunt returns." Mingan took the pieces from her.

"Ten thousand? Besides, I doubt if it can be replaced. She bought it in France when she was young, during the war."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"We stopped cleaning," Chogan said. "Every time we left and came back the place was even more a wreck. So we started leaving it. I think they finally stopped looking though. I was gone twice today and everything is the same."

"I'm getting a new security company over here tomorrow and they're going to reconfigure the entire security system. I've had enough of this."

Mingan helped her to her feet. "I agree. This has to stop. Now, where is Machk?"

"He's out looking for Nuttah. We are searching for her in shifts so we can get some sleep."

"I wish I had been a part of her life because then I'd have a good idea where she might go. We have to find her."

"I'll write down a couple of places for Machk to check out. Nuttah has a couple of friends."

"I'll be right back, Chogan. Chloe would you mind coming with me for a moment?" He hurried up the stairs and she followed. He entered his bedroom and waited for her to step inside before closing the door and pulling her into his arms. "You didn't think I could leave without properly saying goodbye, did you?" He kissed her long and hard. She nearly took his breath away.

"I like Chogan and Machk. What will they think of me when they see us . . . together?"

"I'll explain a few things to them and they'll not judge you. Is there a safe where we can put both these boxes?"

"You have them both? I . . . I thought the first one burned in the accident. That's what I told Billy. Oh, so that's why they stopped searching the house."

"What?"

"Chogan said he didn't think anyone has been searching the house all day. I'll bet they called off the search because they believe it burned."

"Makes sense.

"There is a safe under that rug on the floor," she pointed to the rocker in the corner.

"Really? Wow, that is something." Mingan pulled the rug back and saw nothing but oak hardwood floor. "There isn't a safe here." He looked up at her.

"You see that knot hole?"

"This one," Mingan pushed his index finger into it and heard a popping sound. A square panel rose to reveal a digital pad. "Let me guess, thirteen, thirteen, and thirteen." He laughed when a pressurized vault door opened. "This is something else."

"Would you hand me my gun? I think it's time I put this in my purse . . . just in case."

"I hope it doesn't come to that. I'd rather beat the shit out of them than shoot them. A bullet is too easy."

"Once again, you'd make a good agent. You'd better get going. I'll make that list for Macht and then check in with Joel. You be careful around Mamba."

"That is the last thing I'm going to be. I'm going to charge into the place and make a few demands. I'm going to be the biggest ass they've ever seen."

"Why?"

"Intimidation! Thunder didn't let them walk all over him . . . and they killed him. I want them to realize he was mild compared to who I am. They'll wish Thunder—"

"Mingan, before you close that safe, hand me the lists of contacts so I can compare them. I'm going to send them on to Joel to start checking them out. I wonder if any of them happened to be in the states when Thunder was killed."

He handed up the first list and she took a picture of it with her iPhone. He put it back inside the box and retrieved the list from the second box and handed it to her. "You do realize these together are probably worth several million dollars?"

"Yep. Mighty tempting for sure. I think I just figured out why they tried killing Paula." She took a picture of the list and handed it back to him.

Mingan handed Chloe her gun and closed the vault door. "Why?"

"What was stopping all the messengers from taking the box they've retrieved and running? Each box is worth millions. I think they threatened a girlfriend, wife, children, or even parents. Bring it all back or their loved one is killed."

"We have the currier box from DuPare but who does the second one belong to?"

"Oh, you're right. Thunder hadn't gone to Africa yet. So whose box did he intercept? There must be another death that no one has connected to DuPare. While you're gone I'll do some checking online."

"Good." Mingan pulled her back into his arm and kissed her lips, cheek, neck, and then back to her lips. "I can't get enough of you. My brother was a fool not to notice you."

"There was no chemistry between us."

"Well I'm damn glad there is chemistry between us." He kissed her again, pulling her into him as close as she could get.

"When will you come to your senses and face the fact I'm not Blackfeet? The novelty will wear off and you'll realize you're left with nothing but a one-quarter Chippewa Cree. I'm not sure that will be enough."

"Once again, you're wrong. You have more Native soul than many who have never left the res." He opened the bedroom door and rushed down the hall. "Remember I'm bringing dinner. Chill a chardonnay."

"So now you think you're calling the shots?"

Mingan smiled and took the stairs two at a time. He was done fooling around. He wanted some answers and before the night was over . . . he would have some.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Ten

Chloe handed Macht a list of three friends Nuttah might have gone to. "I don't think you should knock on the door and ask if Nuttah is there. The best thing is to stakeout each house. Find out if the girl goes to school. Does her body language give away that someone is left home?"

"I get it. Are they in the order I should check them out?"

"Yes. Macht, I . . . well, I'm sure it must seem odd to you and Chogan that Thunder's fiancé is now interested in his brother. I don't want you to think—

"It is none of my business. When Mingan wants to share or confide in me . . . then I will listen. It is not my place to make judgments on you or him."

"I . . . am not a loose woman. I take relationships seriously. Thunder and I had our reasons for being engaged. But . . . you should know that I love Nuttah like she is my own daughter. If anything happens to her I don't know how I'll live with it."

"I could tell your heart is in the right place. I see what Mingan sees in you. You try to appear hard on the outside, but I believe your heart betrays you. Thunder would not be angry to know you are now Mingan's woman."

"Thank you, Machk. I know Nuttah is special to you, too. She is strong and resourceful for a ten year old. I believe she is okay. I . . . feel she is upset, but she isn't in danger. Find Nuttah for us, Machk. Please find her." Chloe choked back the tears that threatened.

"I owe it to Thunder. I want his forgiveness and approval. I will find her, Chloe. I will bring her back to Mingan and you. I will know then that I have paid my debt to Thunder. My wrong will be set right and I will then go on with my life with a happy heart."

"Go. I'll be just fine here without you. Do you want to use my car?"

"No offense, but that jack box isn't my style. You see that old, beat-up pickup truck across the street? That's my style and my ride. Call me if you need me and I'll get here as fast as I can."

"Thank you, Machk." She watched him cross the street and take off in his manly truck. It was easy to like him. She couldn't begin to imagine him with Koko. Having met the woman, she couldn't imagine Thunder and her either.

She text a few words to Joel and attached the two lists. She sat at her desk and turned on the computer. She quickly keyed recent deaths of wrestlers and hit search. She read Joel Drew's June second, two thousand-eleven article on the seven most shocking deaths in wrestling.

Pro wrestling is full of shocking deaths. It's been reported that wrestlers die at a far younger median age than any other sport. Whether it's because of direct drug abuse (Mr. Perfect Curt Hennig had cocaine in his system at the time of his death), or because of effects from years of steroid use (Rick Rude suffered heart failure at the age of 40) or due to travel hazards (referee Joey Marella died in a car accident at the age of 31), pro wrestlers have come under fire for having serious short life expectancies...

...Professional wrestling has always been frowned upon by society. Even at its highest peaks, it was still regarded as a low brow form of entertainment. Part of the reason it's looked at in a negative light is because it's "fake." However, wrestling isn't as fake as it seems. The pro wrestlers put their bodies through unbelievable physical exertion night after night, and many of them pay the price with an untimely death. As wrestlers continue with the need for drugs to help rehabilitate, to help them sleep, or to help them deal with the arduous road trips, the death of wrestlers will remain shocking. And you truly won't know who is going to be next.

Chloe paused, suddenly afraid for Mingan. He hadn't trained for years and in a few days would be fighting some of the best. She'd never gone to a single wrestling match to watch Thunder. She found the event vulgar and fake. Had she misjudged it? Wrestlers had millions of supportive fans. There had to be good reason, didn't there?

She read on and on . . . hundreds of articles regarding the life and often death of wrestlers. Her eyes ached and she struggled not to fall asleep. The picture of a young boy caught her attention. Brody Baxter's young three-year-old son died from accidental drowning. The wrester, Mean Dog, and his family were having friends over for a barbecue. The boy was found floating in the hot tub. No one had seen him leave the party. One of the children said he left with a tall, thin man she had never seen before. Chloe jotted the information down on a pad and continued searching.

Daughter of wrestler Bandit died in freak accident when the Hernandez family was on vacation. Five-year-old Annie ran ahead of her parents and slipped through the bridge guard rail, falling eighty feet onto rugged rocks to her death.

After his fight Friday night, wrestler Bronk Buster found his mother dead out on the patio of his home. Medics on the scene suspect heart attack to be the cause even though she had never been treated for a heart condition. Although foul play is not suggested, there seems no real reason such a healthy woman should die.

Chloe could see a pattern forming and wondered why no one had noticed it before. She glanced up and jumped. Mingan stood before her, holding up a bag.

"Damn, you scared the bageebies out of me. Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Actually I did knock and I also said hello, obviously you were so deep in thought you didn't hear me."

Chloe drew in a deep breath and shook her head. "I think I'm losing my edge. I've been trained to hear everything . . . right down to someone breathing. I'm off my game . . . and I think you're the reason. I have got to get my head into this case and stop being distracted by you. This is my one big case, Mingan. I have to solve it . . . and get Nuttah back safely."

"You found something that's scared you, haven't you?"

She nodded. "Let's eat and talk this over." She turned her computer off and grabbed her notebook. Mingan had already headed downstairs. She didn't mean to snap at him, but she meant it. There was no time for romance. There was no time to develop a relationship. She was in the middle of a nightmare that wasn't going to end if she didn't give it one hundred percent of her attention.

"So, let me have it. What did you find out?"

Chloe grabbed two plates and silverware and joined him at the table. "You that hungry?" She stared at the amount of food he'd purchased.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I got one of just about everything. I'm not worrying any of it will go to waste with Chogan and Machk."

"Where is Chogan?" she asked.

"I sent him to get some sleep. He's been helping Machk and hasn't slept in about fourteen hours."

"What about Machk? I hadn't considered asking him when he slept last when I sent him off to find Nuttah."

"He got some sleep while Chogan was looking for her earlier today."

She loaded her plate with sweet and sour chicken, egg rolls, and a couple deep fried shrimp and cream cheese wontons. "You want some wine? I never eat Chinese without wine."

"Sounds good. Now, what did you find out that has you in such a mood?"

"I'm curious why no one has noticed how many family members of wrestlers have died, supposedly from accidents, in the past two years. I've just read about three and I'm sure that's not all of them. I can't imagine why the police haven't noticed." She poured the wine and sat down.

"You think it's because the wrestlers haven't drawn attention to it? They're afraid something will happen to other family members."

Chloe gave his comment some thought. "You think they all were curriers that stole some goods from the box and paid the price? They couldn't draw attention or they'd implicate themselves."

"Right. Paula said Glenn gave her six raw diamonds. Yet, the payment for a delivery is one raw diamond. That got a loved one killed."

"Maybe in Glenn's case he happened to be home and it got him killed, too."

"So we know why . . . what we need to find out is who." She crunched into a wonton and washed it down with the light Yellowtail Chardonnay. "How did your workout go?"

"Damn hard. Mamba wasn't there. I put my name on the schedule as Rolling Thunder."

"I like it. You sure you want me at that fight Friday night? I've never been to one and I'm not sure I have the stomach for it." She sat back and noticed how tired Mingan looked. He had taken on a lot and still hadn't had time to grieve the loss of his twin. "I think you should get some sleep."

"I wish I could sleep. I slept the best I have in two weeks in your arms last night."

"Well, if you promise to behave yourself, you're welcome to snuggle with me again tonight. We both need sleep. Why don't you go shower and climb in. I'll do these dishes and put the food in the frig for the guys."

"Thank you, Chloe. Uh . . . I know what you mean about us being a distraction. I want you to know there is nothing that is going to make me forget why I'm here. When I have Nuttah in my arms I will be able to go after these assholes with a vengeance."

"I know what you mean. After reading about those other deaths, I'm convinced they didn't take Nuttah for ransom, they took her as hostage so Thunder would do his run to Africa. Go get some sleep, I'll be along shortly."

Mingan moved behind her and kissed the back of her neck. She smiled, then absently worked on clearing the table. The answer had something to do with those wooden boxes inlayed with ivory. It didn't take long and Chloe headed upstairs. A quick shower and she slid alongside Mingan already lightly snoring. She found comfort in the rhythm of his breathing.

* * *

It seemed odd to be walking through the doors of the Wrester's Mania Shop. She didn't feel like working and she really didn't want to face Arik.

"Well . . . well . . . well! If it isn't Miss Evans. Come up to my office so we can talk."

Chloe didn't have to look up at the loft to know it was Arik talking. From his tone she could tell he wasn't exactly happy either. She stored her purse in the drawer behind the desk.

"Oh, Chloe! I'm so happy you're back." Doris gave her a big, warm hug.

"It's good to be back. I think I should have come back sooner. It would have taken my mind off things. But I just couldn't make myself get up and get ready for work. My checkbook convinced me it was time."

"Chloe, get up here now!"

"He's been like that ever since you've been gone. He took Thunder's death pretty hard."

"I doubt that's his problem. He hardly knew Thunder." Chloe stalled going to his office.

"You'd better go up. I'll fill you in when you get back."

"Thanks, Doris. I missed you." Strange as it seemed, Chloe really meant it.

"I missed you, too. He brought his wife in to fill-in for you. She is the laziest woman I've ever met. Go... go... I'll tell you all about it later."

Chloe giggle and headed upstairs. She stepped in his office and waited for him to ask her to sit. She hated his rude disposition.

"Sit."

"Don't be angry with me. Losing Thunder was . . . difficult."

"No doubt, but I have a business to run. If you weren't the best sales girl I've ever had, I'd fire you on the spot. That's not why I called you in here."

"Oh, well what can I do for you, Arik?" She didn't miss he still hadn't looked at her. So, he had something to hide and didn't know how to smooth it over. She had seen him meeting with Mamba. It had more meaning now.

"You . . . that was Thunder's brother you were with the other day at Tag Team, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I met him at the ceremony in Montana. He wants to finish Thunder's schedule so he can put the money in a college fund for Nuttah. I think it's rather admirable. I don't know what kind of wrestler he is, but if he's anything like his brother, I wouldn't want to be fighting him."

"I see. I'm sure you're wondering what I was doing there talking to Mamba?"

"Not really. You can talk to whomever you want. It's none of my business. I was upset to see that guy . . . uh . . . Cowboy there. He scares me and I know he and Thunder didn't get along at all. He never said much to me, so I don't really know what he was up to. He kept his wrestling issues to himself and I have to admit – it made me feel left out."

"I always thought the two of you had a rather strange, almost platonic relationship."

"It was almost one-sided and to be honest, I was getting ready to call it off. I feel so bad about that now. Maybe it was better this way. I just wish I knew who killed him and why."

"How did his daughter take it? Is she back in Montana with her family?"

"Thunder's family didn't accept me . . . and really don't have anything to do with me. When they find out Mingan and I are interested in each other . . . I'm sure they'll disown him like they did Thunder. I feel bad about that and am having second thoughts about him, too. It's just that I'm really drawn to him, nothing like with Thunder."

"Sounds like you're asking for trouble. Mamba is interested in us selling shirts advertising his training facility. I want you to look over the proposal and let me know if you think it sounds good. You did such a good job negotiating the wrestling dolls, I think you have a good business sense."

"Arik, may I ask you something?" She wondered if this was the right strategy or if she was stepping out on a ledge.

"Sure, fire away."

"You know Cowboy, right?"

"Yes . . . I know who he is. Don't have many dealings with the guy."

"I'm not one for gossip but I heard he is running an insurance racket with the wrestlers." She noticed Arik fidget with his pen.

"I believe I've caught wind of that one myself. It's not all that bad a deal. He charges five hundred dollars a month and for that he protects the wrestlers from having to take road trips they don't want to go on. All those donation events are just that . . . donated time. It takes a wrestler away from his family and he isn't even making any money."

"Do they have a choice if they want his protection?" Chloe asked.

Arik dropped his pen, then grabbed it quickly and clicked it over and over. So he knew about the trips to Africa. She truly hoped he wasn't involved.

"I'm sure every man has a choice. I seriously don't know why a guy would turn that protection down."

"Thunder turned it down. Do you know why he would do that?"

Arik stood, nearly tipping his chair over. "I . . . I have no idea, young lady. You'd be smart to keep that under your hat and let anything about Thunder just rest. The police are working had to find his killer. You just have to put it in your past as soon as you can."

"I suppose you're right. I'd better get to work. If you give me the file on Mamba's proposal I'll look it over tonight."

"I'll make copies and bring you a file later. Thanks, Chloe."

She smiled and paused. "How come you sounded so angry when I came in? I thought for sure you were going to fire me."

"I just didn't want Doris to think I found it okay for you to be gone this long without a bit of grief. I can't let everyone take off two weeks for a lost love one. I'll go broke."

"You didn't pay me those two weeks, so I can't see how you lost money."

"True, but I had to call my wife in to fill-in for you. Never again will I do that."

Chloe laughed. "I like Candice. She's the only woman I know that you don't treat like she's ignorant. You try that with her and she'd sue you for half of everything." She hated small talking with Arik, but she had no choice. She needed him to think of her as his ally. She laughed and left his office.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe returned to the main desk. "That was interesting. Do you know anything about Brandon Schilling?"

"Hold your voice down. That is not a question you should be asking me," Doris said.

"Why not? Aren't we friends?"

"Of course we're friends. But . . . I don't want to be caught in the middle of nothing."

"Honest, Doris, I don't know what you're talking about." Chloe sat down in the chair next to Doris.

"Koko is my neighbor and she and I are friends. I know you moved in on her ex and that she and Thunder were trying to patch things up. He was going to break it off with you, but he didn't know how."

"You serious? I had no idea. Does Koko have Nuttah or is she living with family in Montana?"

"She's isn't with Koko, that I'll tell you. She isn't much of a mother. That woman is a man magnet with her gorgeous black hair and eyes. Native American woman are beautiful. But she hooks up with that Brandon Schilling. Why? She could have any man she wanted. I think she was trying to make Thunder jealous. Stupid . . . but she really wanted him back."

"I don't know this Schilling other than he runs a training facility." Chloe turned on the computer and signed in. She didn't want to appear too interested in the conversation.

"He is the scum of the earth. He . . . I shouldn't be saying anything. But I will tell you this, he is up to something that is rocking the wrestling world. Before that man showed up things were good. Now he has the guys fighting among themselves. He and that Cowboy. I've never seen anything like it. Bernard wants me to quit and find someplace else to work. Arik pays me well and I have Mondays and Tuesdays off. Not many jobs I can have two days off in a row like that."

"I agree. Are Cowboy and Schilling doing that insurance scam together?"

"Oh, that's small potatoes compared to what they're involved with. You haven't noticed a thing, have you?"

"Noticed what? I really don't have a clue what you're talking about, but I think I should." Chloe hoped to finally learn something valuable.

"It has something to do with those mosquito nets they're taking to Africa. Thunder was asking all sorts of questions about it and he had a shouting match with Arik a few days before he died."

"Did you tell the police that?"

"Hell no. I don't want to get fired or killed."

"Do you know what they were arguing about?" Chloe lowered her voice and leaned toward Doris.

"You set up all the tickets for travel to Africa, right?"

"Most of them anyway, yes. So what?"

"Well, some of the guys are taking a side trip and picking up a small box of cargo and delivering them to the states. No one questions the wrestlers. They are doing good things by donating time and nets to thousands of Africans."

"What's in the boxes they bring back?" Chloe hoped she looked surprised and ignorant.

"There have been lots of rumors about that one. Bernard said he heard the custodians talk and they heard wrestlers are being paid a raw diamond for one trip. Thunder was shaking things up and that's what got him killed."

"You serious? Oh my God. There has to be more to it than that. I mean if they are bringing a box . . . what's in it? Diamonds? What's to stop them from taking the package and disappearing? Good Lord, what if they get caught – they'd go to prison, wouldn't they?" Chloe wished Doris would give her something she didn't know.

"Well Bernard said there's people involved that help cover it up."

"Doris, did he mean the police or customs?"

"I think he meant both. And if you don't mind my saying so, I think Arik is involved. He doesn't fool me with this clothing line Mamba wants to partner about. Mamba's brother, Borbo, came in last week and I'll tell you what . . . he's one scary guy. Arik blew a gasket when he showed up. They quickly left for coffee."

"How did you know he was Mamba's brother?"

"They look a lot alike and he dresses just like Mamba; white pants and tunic top with that necklace holding a big diamond."

"You overhear any of their conversation," Chloe asked.

"Now that you mention it, yes. Borbo called Arik a pompous jackass. Said he was going to get everyone caught. He said it should never have happened."

"What were they talking about?"

"I think he was . . . I think he meant Thunder. Mamba and Borbo are the force behind the wrestler's insurance scam and Arik wants to buy their training facility. I don't think that's going to happen."

Chloe swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath. "They say anything else?"

"No. Arik stormed down the stairs with Borbo following right behind. Neither one looked very happy. I pretended I didn't notice."

"Very smart. Doris, I need to share something with you and then ask a favor."

"Sure, fire away."

Chloe smiled. "I . . . I was going to break it off with Thunder before he died. I've been feeling so awful about it since. Now that you've told me he was going to rekindle his marriage with Koko, I feel better. The awkward thing is . . . I've fallen for his brother, Mingan. I know it makes me look cheap and sleazy. Engaged to Thunder and when he dies start having a relationship with his twin brother. I just wanted to tell you so you didn't have to hear about it."

"You and Thunder never seemed right. I never felt there was any chemistry between you."

"You're right and that was one of the reason I wanted to break it off."

"What's the favor you need?"

"Mingan is taking Thunder's place on the wrestling tour. He wants to donate all the earnings to Nuttah's college fund. His first fight is this Friday night. Would you go with me? I'm so nervous because I've never been to a fight before."

"It's about time you went. Bernard and I already have tickets to go Friday night. I got two extra tickets in case my sister and her boyfriend wanted to go, but they can't. It couldn't have worked out better because we have front row tickets. That's so exciting. You'll love it. Once you go you'll be hooked!"

"I must confess . . . I've steered clear of them. But Mingan wants me to go. He doesn't want our relationship to be hidden in a closet. I'd prefer no one knows anything about our personal life. He seems to think it adds to the fan base. This is so not my thing."

"I remember Mingan before the brothers had that fight. Thunder had a temper and Mingan never said much of anything. But one of the guys said they'd fight Thunder any day, he'd retire if Mingan ever got in the ring. I think we're in for a real treat."

Chloe wondered what she'd gotten herself into. "Maybe I should watch a few fights online so I can prepare myself."

"Nope. You just can't hear and feel it all without being right there and experiencing it. I know what so many people say about wrestling, but once they go to a match, they are caught up with the excitement of it and they come back time and again. I can't wait to watch Mingan fight."

Chloe wasn't so sure. She got back into the rhythm of working and finally when five rolled around she was more than ready to go home. A stop at the grocery store to stock-up didn't finish until she spent over three hundred dollars. All the while she struggled to figure out where Nuttah might be hiding.

After dinner and dishes, Chloe took her glass of wine out to the sun porch and settled on the wicker swing. "I'm so worried about Nuttah I can barely function. We need to be smart about this. We've gone back into the mainstream but we both know Schilling's group could come back after us at any time."

"They believe the box was burned in the accident. We go to the police about what they did to us or that they grabbed Nuttah - and they'll kill her if they have her. It's their word against ours. They don't know we suspect Nuttah has escaped. Machk said he watched Koko's place for two days and saw no indication that Nuttah was with her. We have to believe she got out of that trailer and has found a safe place to hide."

"Let's have him shadow Schilling."

"I agree. If they have Nuttah, he just might lead Machk to where they're holding her. He has to stay at a distance and log Schilling's activities; date and time, places and who he's meeting with. We need evidence to support a case." Chloe sat in the sun porch and watched the sun set behind the trees across Lake Conway.

Mingan paced the room and finally sat across from her. "You're not going to like the man I become in the ring. I'm giving you warning."

"I don't understand. Why can't you just be you?" Chloe could tell this wasn't easy for him.

"Westling is as much about being a technical artist in the ring as it is about raw bad-boy behavior. Thunder was good in the ring because he wasn't afraid to hit a guy when he wasn't looking or adding a couple of cheap shots to make a point. He was brilliant with the crowd and exaggerated his emotions. They loved him."

"You don't have to be him."

"I have to be better than him, meaner, more talented, and they have to love me . . . or I'll be sent home packing the next day. Wrestling is all about entertaining the fans. They already feel bad I've lost my twin brother, now they want an angry, volatile, mean wrestling machine to avenge his death. They want to see the Indian released."

"Rolling Thunder. I get it. You do what you have to do, Mingan. We'll see where it leads when the dust settles. I haven't heard back from Joel, that only means they haven't uncovered anything important on those lists."

"Let me have a look."

"I deleted them from my phone. I figured they get me . . . they get everything I've sent and to whom. I'm not taking any chances with Nuttah."

"Smart. I'm going to work out so don't wait up for me."

"No, we aren't playing that game. You can't work out all night and I can't sleep wondering what's happening to you. So be honest, where are you and Chogan going after practice?" She hated sounding like a nagging wife.

"Never was much of a liar. Thunder did all our talking when we tried getting away with shit. He was definitely good at it, too."

Chloe wanted to do something to make his hurt go away, but nothing would do that. Only time would help him heal. "So where you boys going?"

"We're giving Cowboy a visit."

"Doris said he's in it with Schilling, but like everyone else, she didn't know what it was. You have to wrestle in one day. You go visit Cowboy and you might end up with an injury that will lose you the match . . . and your chance on the inside. Maybe that visit should wait until Saturday . . . after the fight." She waited while he considered her comment.

"Maybe . . . you're right. Okay we'll pay him a visit Saturday."

"Okay, while you do that I will follow-up with some of those other deaths. Talk to the families if they will let me . . . see if there's a connection. We're going to find Nuttah . . . and Thunder's killer." Chloe's phone rang and she headed inside to answer it.

"Hello? Hello? Nuttah . . . is that you?" Chloe could tell someone was listening.

"Come get me."

"Speak up, I can't barely hear you. Where are you, Nuttah?"

"I don't know. I think I'm in a box. It's dark and scary. Can you come—"

"Nuttah . . . Nuttah . . . you there?" A dial tone told her the call had ended.

"You spoke to Nuttah?" Mingan asked.

"I don't know. I . . . don't think that was her."

"But are you sure? What did she say?"

"She wants me to come and get her."

"Where is she?"

Chloe didn't miss the urgency in his questions. "She said she was in a dark and scary box."

"Those sons of a bitches! I'll kill every last one of them with my bare hands."

"Talk like that isn't going to help anything. Let me think about the call."

"What do you mean, think about it?"

"Were there any noises in the background that might tell us where she is? Were there any other voices? It's all important." Chloe thought the conversation through.

"Well . . . were there?"

"I heard someone breathing heavy, and it wasn't Nuttah. I believe they were holding a cloth over the mouthpiece and that wasn't Nuttah at all. She is ten and the voice almost sounded five. I think that call was fake."

"Why call at all?"

"Why is a good question. To warn us? To keep us on edge? And, there is always a possibility that it was Nuttah on the phone and they wanted us to know they have her again, but are playing games." Chloe tossed her phone onto the couch and sat down and rubbed her eyes, then forehead.

Her phone rang again and they both stared at it. She picked it up and noticed it again was a blocked number.

She held the phone out so Mingan could listen in. "Hello."

"Put the Indian on the phone."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I said so."

"He's not here right now. Can I have him call you back when he does get here?"

"Don't play games or the Indian girl won't make it to her eleventh birthday."

"You keep saying things like that but I have no proof you have Nuttah. I want to talk with her." Chloe struggled to keep the phone from shaking.

"And I want to talk to Mingan. Put him on the phone or—

"Or what?" Chloe hated taking chances with Nuttah's life.

"Or you'll be receiving a pinkie fingernail in the mail sometime early next week. You know how slow the mail is these days."

"You crazy bastard. You hurt even her little pinkie and I'll see you rot in hell." Chloe grit her teeth.

"I want to talk to—"

"What do you want asshole?" Mingan asked.

"Oh, so you are there."

"I just got here. Where is Nuttah and why haven't you returned her to me?"

"Well now that you ask, let me tell you what is going to happen Friday night. You are going to lose. You win and your niece will pay the consequences."

"Let me talk to her. I will do shit unless I'm convinced you have Nuttah."

"How about we bring the little Indian to the fights with us? You contact the police or FBI and she'll never survive. If I go to prison it might as well be for killing the little rat since kidnapping her gets me pretty much the same penalty. At least I will have the satisfaction of knowing I gave you a chance to save her and your decisions got her killed."

"You son of a bitch!" A dial tone answered.

#

#

# 

# Chapter Eleven

Mingan held a braid of three strands of sweet grass in his left hand, lit the end on fire, and quickly blew it out. Cupping his right hand he channeled the smoke over his body cleansing himself.

"Do you know what this symbolizes and why I use it?" He wondered how much Native history Chloe truly knew.

"Is this a test?"

"No, just wondered." He sensed her tensing and extended the sweet grass toward her. She cupped the smoke over herself, and it surprised him.

"Sweet grass is the sacred hair of Mother Earth; its sweet aroma is a reminder of the gentleness, love and kindness she has for the people. The three strands represent love, kindness, and honesty and is used for purifying the spirit. The aroma will help place you in a different state of mind and into a deeper part of yourself. It will also help you concentrate on what is happening, and give you a sense of direction."

"Well, I'm impressed. I don't think I could have explained it any better. Stop worrying."

"Are you going to . . . win or lose?"

He adjusted the feathers on his braid and tossed it behind his back. "I don't know. I want you to scan the audience for Nuttah. If you spot her call Machk and tell him where she's seated. Once you've done that I want you to stand and shout win for Thunder over and over until the crowd gets into it."

"I don't think I can do that. What if they don't get into it?"

Mingan laughed. One thing you can rely on are the fans, Chloe. They loved Thunder and you can be sure they'll pick up the chant." He wished the match was over and he had Nuttah in his arms. He pulled Chloe against him and kissed her hard. "We can do this, Skylar," he whispered in her ear.

She nodded and walked beside him as he entered the arena. They played Indian Outlaw; Thunder's introduction song. Mingan danced part of his rain dance and after several circles the crowd exploded into cheers. He hugged Chloe and walked up the stairs into the ring . . . and danced several more circles for the crowd. He sensed Thunder's presence and support.

"Ladies and gentlemen, introducing for the first time and taking the place of his twin brother, Thunder—"

The crowd roared and the ring announcer paused. "Give a warm welcome to Rolling Thunder!"

Mingan held a spear above his head and feathers draped down from it, whipping around from the large ceiling fans. He handed it over to Chloe, then removed his fringed and beaded leather jacket and handed it over to her as well. The crowd cheered as he stood before them in a modified breechclout. He had no intention of losing it with the pull of a string.

"In this exciting match we have Indian versus Cowboy. In the far ring . . ."

Everything got quiet in Mingan's head. He hadn't noticed he'd be fighting the one man he believed had something to do with his brother's death. Mingan shot the man a menacing glare. Now he understood why his brother's spirit clung to him. They would fight this monster together.

The energy in the room fueled him. They chanted Thunder and Mingan sized the Cowboy up, then quickly charged into him – chest to chest and dropped Cowboy down. Mingan wasted no time in adding a drop kick before pressing his entire body down and pinning Cowboy's elbow into an armbar.

Cowboy barely tapped out.

"You're going to hurt when we're done," Mingan taunted.

"Like your brother hurt? Got himself killed and it looks like you're following in his tracks." He pulled Mingan into a roll-up.

He reversed the roll-up into one of his own and the crowd counted . . . one . . . two . . . Cowboy had enough in the tank to kick out. Mingan ascended the ropes but found himself knocked off by a strong and determined Cowboy.

"Where's Nuttah?" Mingan twisted Cowboy's arm and snapped him against the ropes. The grimace on his face revealed the horror of his pain.

"Fuck you, Indian!"

Mingan delivered a powerful chop to Cowboy's head and the man staggered slightly before regaining his footing. Having leveled Cowboy with several crushing strikes, Mingan used his considerable size to overpower the smaller man, keeping him on the defensive.

"Tell me who you work for and I'll let you win. You tell me nothing and you'll be lucky to leave this ring alive." Mingan didn't miss the fear in Cowboy's eyes.

"He'll kill me if I tell you," Cowboy said.

"I'll kill you first if you don't." Mingan took a blow to the ribs and dropped to a knee before shooting upward, catching Cowboy in the throat with both fists. The man dropped and Mingan pinned him to the floor. Again Cowboy broke the hold just in time.

"A name or a broken arm." Mingan pulled Cowboy's arm back and twisted it downward. The man screamed out in pain, but Mingan refused to let go. "A name, damn it!"

"Fuck you!"

Mingan gave Cowboy's arm an extra jerk and it snapped. He screamed in pain and the crowd roared its approval. Mingan grabbed his other arm and twisted it back. "A name or I'll break this one, too!"

"Maybe you ought to pay more attention to your girlfriend."

The crowd yelled, Thunder . . . Thunder . . . Thunder over and over. Mingan wondered how long they had been chanting it.

He glanced up and searched the front row. His gaze settled on Chloe. He didn't miss the gun pressed against her ribs.

Cowboy took advantage of Mingan's momentary distraction and punched him in the stomach then landed a right hook to his jaw.

He shook off the effects of Cowboy's blows and with uncanny flexibility, flipped him onto the ground and locked him in Thunder's Death Grip to secure the win.

The crowd went wild and chanted, Thunder . . . Thunder . . . Thunder.

Mingan searched out Chloe again . . . the seats were empty. Why would Doris hold a gun . . . where had they taken her? He looked around and saw nothing but crazed, cheering fans jumping helter skelter to celebrate his win. He grabbed his jacket and lance and ran down the retreat lane toward the lockers. It didn't take long to change into jeans and a t-shirt.

He first then realized Chogan was nowhere around. Mingan grabbed his I-Phone and dialed first Chogan, Macht, and then Chloe. No one answered. Mingan couldn't help wondering what the hell he had just done. He sat on the bench and tied his tennis.

"You just had to win, didn't you? I knew you couldn't throw a fight and I told them that. No one ever listens to me."

Mingan swung around and faced Koko. She looked rough round the edges; the drugs and booze were showing. "Who did you tell that to, Koko?"

She staggered slightly toward him, then stepped back. "They lied to me. They said they were going to ask for money and then they'd let her go. I believed Brandon. I love him . . . loved him you know."

"Something happen to Schilling?" Mingan asked.

"They killed him. They killed Thunder, Buster, Teri, Crocker, Billy and even that kid at Tag Team."

"They killed Chuck? Damn it! Where did they take Chloe? You don't want her to die, too, do you?"

"Of course I do. She took Thunder away from me. She tried taking Nuttah, too. I . . . didn't want my baby to get hurt. I don't know where she is."

"Koko, listen to me. You have to tell me where they took Chloe. That's where they took Nuttah. We have to save your daughter. I can't do that if I don't know where they've taken her. Did they take Chogan and Machk, too?"

"No . . . well yes in a way. I told them to go to the docks and they'd find Nuttah. I don't feel right. You think they gave me bad shit this time?"

Mingan realized suddenly why she didn't look well. "You shoot up today? Tell me . . . who gave you the shit?"

"I did just a little to take the edge off. This has been very stressful and now they killed Brandon. I don't know what I'll do without him."

"Koko, where at the docks? What docks? I'll go help Nuttah if you tell me. Do this one good thing for your daughter." She slowly dropped to the cement floor and sat for a moment staring at him.

"I told Chogan . . . Port Canaveral . . ."

"It's a big place! Do you know the pier?" Mingan held her head off the cold cement.

"Thirteen. Ain't that a kick in the . . . ass. Lucky thirteen . . . find my baby . . . and keep her safe, Min—"

He slipped out from under her and jumped to his feet.

* * *

Chloe stared at Doris. "What's this all about? It must be big if you're willing to kill for it."

"You wouldn't be able to imagine half of what's going on. I wouldn't have considered it myself but Bernard is quite convincing. We had it all planned out right down to the inlays. Thunder fucked it all up. I warned him and he wouldn't listen. He got what he deserved."

"Why hang him, you had to know the police could prove he didn't commit suicide?" Chloe clutched her purse to her chest.

"He was such a cocky Indian. I read somewhere that Indians rarely committed suicide by hanging. Had something to do with locking their spirit in their body. It was my payback for how much trouble he's caused me."

"What do you plan on doing with Nuttah and me?" Chloe wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"I don't like this any more than you do. I was hoping you'd stay away . . . mourning your loss. But, you had to join Mingan and start causing as much trouble as Thunder did. My deal is worth about four million. I wouldn't hesitate to kill you and even Nuttah for that kind of money." They pulled into Port Canaveral and passed gate after gate.

Doris pulled into Pier 13. "Always was my lucky number. I'm sorry, Chloe, I really am. If you had stayed out of it . . . it wouldn't have come to this."

Chloe waited while Doris turned off the truck and ran around to open the door. "Get down and don't try anything stupid or I'll shoot you where you stand."

"You seemed like such a nice woman. You surprised me, Doris."

"Walk ahead of me and go to that building with the blue light above the door."

Chloe slowly inched her hand inside her purse. "If you give me Nuttah I will take her to Montana and you'll never hear or see me again. I won't say a word to anyone." She felt the cold metal of her Glock forty.

"Somehow I just don't think I can trust you now. You've been asking questions all over with Mingan and I'm certain you know more than I've begun to tell you."

Chloe swung around and hit Doris's gun with her purse. It clanked on the pavement and out of sight in the dimly lit parking lot. Chloe pointed her gun at Doris. "We aren't going inside that building. You are going to put your hands behind your back or I'll make you."

"You're willing to fight me? Isn't this a surprise? This is absurd. I'm shocked you even know how to point a gun at someone. I'm a trained fighter and you don't scare me in the least, even with a gun."

Chloe smiled. "Let me surprise you even more. I'm an FBI agent and I've been collecting evidence on this case for over two years."

"Bigger surprise? I knew that. But you can't touch me because I have connections that will protect me." She laughed, then dived at Chloe.

Landing on her back, Chloe took a fist to the right eye, dazing her.

Doris continued with a left and then another right to the Chloe's jaw.

She shook off the cobwebs and rolled Doris over, straddled her and delivered a hard blow to her jaw with the butt of her Glock.

"You bitch!" Doris shouted.

"You got that right." Chloe pressed the gun to Doris's forehead. "Who told you I was FBI and how long have you known?"

"Actually I found out tonight. I don't think he meant to tell me, it just sort of slipped. But, it doesn't matter. I knew you and Mingan had to be dealt with. That's where Nuttah came in handy. The girl was more of a pain than we expected. Oh, and that useless mother of hers. Hopefully she enjoyed her final rush."

"You have been busy. Who told you I was FBI?"

"You really think I'm going to tell you that?"

What have you done with Mingan?"

"Well, that's where you come in. I'm sure he's going to want to rescue you from . . . us . . . so after you call him, he'll come running and we'll finally have all the players together."

"It's not going to happen like that, Doris. I'm arresting you and taking you in. I'm calling in the police and the FBI and soon your warehouse will be surrounded by the law. What do you think of that?"

"I don't think that's going to happen, Chloe. Let Doris up."

Chloe recognized the voice, but didn't believe it until she turned around and saw Joel Bernstein behind her with his gun pointed her way.

"Really? You? All this time we were trying to get a grip on this case and you've been feeding them information to stay way ahead of us? I'd like to shoot you where you stand."

"Don't take it personally, Evans. There was a time I'd have included you in on this sweet deal. But you wouldn't give me the time of day."

"You think every girl wants you, Joel. That's just not the case. You're not my type."

"What exactly is your type, Skylar?"

"Who the hell is Skylar?" Doris asked.

"Never mind. Let Doris up and let's get to that warehouse. Great job, babe."

Chloe nearly choked when Doris brushed against Joel and kissed him hard. "What about Bernard?"

"He's my brother, you stupid bitch."

"What? You're brother? You never told me that." Chloe wondered if she was in the right line of work. So much had escaped her.

"Move!" Joel shouted.

"Why, Joel? You . . . are FBI. You fight crime and serve to protect. You forget what it's truly about, or are you—"

"Shut the hell up. You have any idea how many times I wanted to bring you into this? In all my years of being on the force I've never met anyone who was least prepared for undercover work. Two fucking years and what have you accomplished?"

"The lists. I sent you the lists. You bastard!"

"I really have to thank you for that. We were screwed without them and you delivered them into our hands. I need the diamonds from those boxes."

"Fuck you!"

"No, you'll be fucked if you don't. You and I could have been a great team. I still don't understand why you wouldn't at least give us a chance. I had real feelings for you."

"What the hell you talking about, Joel?" Doris jarred his shoulder with hers. "We've been fuckin' for over a year and now you're talking about your feelings for this bitch. Knock it off and start thinking with the head on your shoulders. We've got a job to finish."

"Shut up, Doris. Go on ahead and check the trucks. We're loading up and moving it all tonight."

"What the shit are you talking about? We aren't moving the merchandise, it's too risky."

"We have to. Too many people know about this location already. It's only a matter of time before the cops show up. Get your cute ass going, we don't have time to waste."

Doris pulled him to her and kissed him hard.

Chloe turned around and bolted for the shadows. The sound of a fired gun and the fire-like burn that hit her shoulder and sent her reeling to the ground. "Son of a bitch!" she muttered under her breath.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Joel shouted.

"To save your fucking ass. You really think you could have caught her? You're lucky I didn't aim for the bitch's heart."

"Doris, you are one exciting woman. You're right of course. I don't even mind your jealous streak. Now go check on those trucks. I'll get the information we need from Chloe and—"

"Finish her off. If you can't – I will. She knows way too much and you know it." Doris ran toward the warehouse. "I refuse to spend my life looking over my shoulder," she shouted back at him.

"Well you heard the boss lady. Where are those boxes?"

"Fuck you, Joel!" She struggled to get to her feet and Joel kicked her in the stomach . . . sending her hard to the ground. She moaned, favoring her left shoulder.

"Suddenly tough, huh? There is one thing you've wanted from day one. You want Nuttah safely returned to Montana. I'll give you my word we'll do that if you tell me where the diamonds are."

"You prove you have Nuttah. I want to see her. Otherwise, no deal."

"Listen Chloe, I don't have time for your games." He stepped over her and pressed his foot to her injured shoulder – and pressed.

Chloe screamed out in pain. "You asshole! You kill me and you'll never find the diamonds. I'm the only one who knows where they are. You don't have to believe me. What do you need them for? Oh, wait . . . you're buying rifles and ammunition, aren't you? How does the ivory . . . wait, the truck loads of merchandise – ivory tusks, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"What war you supplying arms for? No, you don't care do you? The highest bidder gets it all. Well, aren't you a man of high morals and character?"

"You're starting to get on my nerves. Where are the diamonds," he pushed his boot into her bleeding shoulder again.

Chloe grabbed his ankle and pushed and pulled. She arched her back and kicked out, finally catching him off-balance – and he stumbled, then fell before scrambling back to his feet.

Chloe went for his gun but Joel whipped it to his right, then back fast and hard connecting with her jaw. She dropped into a black abyss.

* * *

If anything happened to Chloe or Nuttah, Mingan would never be able to live with it. It felt like hours before he located the entry gate for docking area thirteen. He parked the truck on the far end next to several other large trucks in the entry lot. He got out and surveyed the area. He noticed activity to the far end of the docks. Three semis had backed into a warehouse. He noticed several others were waiting to be loaded. This had to be the right place.

Keeping in the shadows and constantly scanning the area, Mingan headed toward the warehouse. He smelled cigarette smoke and ducked behind a stack of oil barrels.

"After everything is loaded, set the warehouse on fire."

"Doris, once again you're not thinking this through. We can't kill her before we find the diamonds. It was your responsibility to keep that kid—"

"Shut the fuck up, Joel. You hired those assholes to watch her, not me. I told you weeks ago we needed to step this thing up when we had the kid. You want to place blame, look in the mirror."

"Okay, we aren't accomplishing anything by fighting. Chloe won't talk until we show her the kid. This deal will go south if we don't get those diamonds. You didn't have to hit her so hard. I thought you told those bastards to meet us here at ten?"

"No, I told them midnight. Come walk with me on the docks. I'm sick of listening to those loaders complain about how much work this is."

"You know we can't just let them walk, don't you?"

"You better hope they don't figure that out before they load those trucks. When the drivers arrive, get them on the road as soon as you can."

Mingan worked his way to the end of the barrels and inched his face to the edge, hoping to get a look at Joel. Could this possibly be Chloe's boss? Now he understood how they stayed ahead of the all this time. Did Thunder find out the leader of this group was none other than Joel Bernstein, FBI?

The warehouse light revealed Joel to be nearly six foot, well-built and a surprisingly good looking black man. He wore his hair close cropped and the warehouse light revealed a huge diamond earring post in his right ear lobe. It looked a close match to the one Thunder gave Chloe. DNA might be the evidence they needed. His black leather pants and jacket nearly made Mingan laugh. He hated cocky guys.

Using the nearly pitch black night for cover, Mingan weaved between and around pallets of boxes, until he'd reached the back side of the warehouse. He jumped and grabbed the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder and pulled himself up – rung by rung until his feet finally slid over the metal. He didn't waste time in climbing up and over the roof edge. Scanning the dark space he quickly spotted the open door, obviously left that way for ventilation.

He stepped carefully across the flat surface, anxious to get inside. The enclosed wooden staircase allowed him to descend undetected. Echoes of men talking rose and echoed in the tin warehouse. Stepping behind long wooden boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, Mingan ran the length of them, stopping at the far end. Just ahead of him, in the corner, he spotted Chogan and Machk. Their arms were extended over their heads and tied with rope looped over a heavy metal pipe that ran the length of the warehouse.

Mingan paused, chirped like a cricket and waited for the men to notice him. After the second chirp, both Chogan and Machk made eye contact. Mingan nodded once then slipped back behind the stack of boxes and quickly pulled himself to the top, sliding across it until he had the vantage point to scope the room and evaluate what he was up against.

Then he saw her crumpled on the ground . . . blood pooled by her side. Choe didn't move. They had killed her. He wanted to charge and shoot every one of them. Taking control of his emotions, he took note of the situation. He glanced east and couldn't believe elephant tusks filled the entire end of the warehouse, nearly twenty-five thirty feet deep and touching the ceiling. Six men loaded carts and wheeled them to the semis, then unloaded them. They'd have six or more trucks filled. The enormous amount of money this ivory would net boggled Mingan's mind.

Other than the loaders, and Joel and Doris outside, there didn't seem to be anyone else around. Mingan made his way back down the back side of the boxes. Everyone seemed way too busy with their work to notice him make his way over to Chogan and Machk. Chogan nodded and eyed up his high laced moccasins.

Mingan slid the knife from Chogan's sheath strapped inside his boot. He eased himself behind the men and cut the ropes, freeing their hands. "Are they any others than those we see here?" he asked.

"Just one mean son-of-a-bitch in the office by the name of Bernard, and he's all mine," Chogan said under his breath.

"How many guns you have?" Chogan asked.

"One, but we should try doing this with our fists or we'll bring the two guns outside in here. You go take on Bernard and Machk and I can handle those six loaders.

"That works. I'll take my knife if you don't mind." Chgan held out his palm.

Mingan turned toward Machk. "I've got an idea. Wait here and I'll walk up to them as a loader. You'll know if I need you. Grab that rope and make it appear you're still tied up. They might not notice Chogan is gone."

"Okay, I like it."

Drawing in a deep breath, Mingan slowly walked across the warehouse. Chogan had disappeared between the boxes. "Hey guys, did you know we have three more semis to load after these?"

"About time we got more help."

"You guys realize what these are, right?"

"What you mean?"

"These are illegal elephant tusks. Worth millions. You know these people . . . because I'm getting the shit out of here. They'll kill us after we're done loading. I'm getting out of here while I can."

"You serious, man?"

"Damn serious. You see that woman they killed? She' bleeding all over the office floor. They aren't going to let us go when we've seen all that. I'm outta here!" As Mingan headed toward the back door he heard several tusks hit the floor.

"Shit, let's get out of here too. "Thanks, man," one of the guys yelled as they passed him and ran out into the night.

"Well that work good," Machk said. "Let's check on Chogan.

Mingan took a couple steps toward the office when Bernard hit the ground and scrambled to his feet just outside the door. Chogan walked right up to the man and punched him in the nose. Blood ran down Bernard's face. "I asked you a question and you damn well better answer."

"I ain't tellin' you shit, Chief."

Chogan punched him again, this time connecting with his left eye. "Where is Nuttah?"

"We don't know. Kid ran off and we can't find her nowhere. That's the truth."

"Okay, then where are these trucks heading and who are you meeting up with?"

"You're nuts if you think I'll tell you that."

Mingan entered the office, moving as far away from Chloe as he could. He looked around, then spotted a stack of shipping sheets and glanced them over. "He won't have to tell us, we have all the shipping information we need right here. What I want to know is what are you buying with all these ivory tusks and diamonds?"

"You know about the diamonds? Hell, that's great news. This all comes down like lined-up dominos if we don't get our hands on those diamonds," Bernard said.

"Looks to me like you're not the one on the receiving end. Tell you what, give me what I want to know and I'll tell you where to find the diamonds."

"Why the fuck would I do that? Doris or Joel would kill me if I told you anything."

"Where the hell are the loaders?" Doris's voice rose. "Bernard . . . what the fuck—"

"Put the gun down, or I'll shoot him where he stands," Mingan said.

"Damn it to hell, how did you get in here? Who untied the Indians? What the hell is going on in here?" Joel shouted.

"It seems the Indians have gotten the upper hand." Mingan pulled Bernard up to his knees and pressed his Colt into the base of his neck. "Which of you killed Chloe? Speak or I'll shoot him, doesn't matter to me."

"The bitch deserved what she got!" Doris said.

"Chloe wasn't dead when I brought her in here. She got the jump on me and started running. Doris stopped her with a bullet to the shoulder. She was breathing when I dropped her on that floor."

"Bernard, what did you do?" Doris asked.

"I didn't touch her. She just kept bleeding and . . . I guess it did her in."

"Great . . . just great. Where'd all the workers go?" Joel asked.

"I guess they decided you weren't going to pay them with money and they hi-tailed it out the back door. Can't blame them. I'd have come to the same conclusion if I were them. Seems like your plan is falling apart."

"Take the gun off my brother," Doris pointed her handgun at Machk.

"Not smart, Doris. You might shoot him, but I'll definitely kill Bernard. Might not be such a bad idea since I think his nose and jaw are both broken. He's got to be in a world of hurt right now."

"Give us the diamonds and we'll give you Nuttah." Doris lowered the gun.

"I really want to know why you need ivory and diamonds. It's driving me nuts trying to figure that one out." Mingan continued pressing the muzzle into Bernard's neck.

"You're looking at millions right here," Joel waved his hand around the room. "Fact is you can't hand over a tusk as bribery, now can you? Diamonds speak volumes. They aren't traceable and they only increase in value. It will take all three bags of diamonds to get this ivory to its destination."

"Where exactly is that?" Mingan asked.

"Knowing isn't going to help you any."

"I'm a curious guy. I like to know the why and where shit. Which of you killed my brother? I have a right to know that, don't I?"

"Fuck you, Mingan. You shouldn't even be here. None of this has a thing to do with you."

"You, killed him, didn't you, Doris?" Watching her expression told him all he needed to know.

"Don't be so quick to judge. Joel here gave the order, I only followed it through."

Joel raised his Glock and fired. A single bulled to the middle of her forehead dropped Doris to the ground. "I couldn't listen to one more minute of her cackling."

Bernard moaned his loss. Mingan almost felt sorry for him. "Looks like you're the boss now, Joel. What you going to do without the diamonds . . . and since you don't have loaders, how you going to deliver all this ivory?"

"Let me worry about that. I can buy guns on the black market any time of the day. I won't miss her loud mouth or fucking her. There are plenty out there to take her place."

"If I had a gun, I'd shoot you where you stand." Bernard's words slurred and pain edged his efforts.

Joel cocked his pistol and again pulled the trigger, shooting Bernard in the chest . . . again . . . and again.

Mingan didn't expect it and jumped back only to catch one of Joel's bullets on the side of his gun, sending it across the floor. He looked up and froze. Joel pointed his gun directly at him.

"You and I are going to get those diamonds. While we are doing that your two brothers are going to load those trucks. They don't and you will never live to talk about it."

"Tell me where Nuttah is!" Mingan said.

"No can do. Which one you want me to shoot first?" Joel turned the nozzle toward Chogan and then at Machk."

Would this day ever end? Mingan could hardly think straight. "You know damn well I don't want you to shoot either of them. Aren't you going to admit this plan has fallen apart and you'd be smart to just leave the country while you can?"

"I still can pull off the deal of the century. I have two days and you can be sure I'll have my merchandise ready to exchange for rifles, rockets, grenades, and hell . . . you name it! I'll come to the aid of my countrymen."

Mingan thought for a second, then glanced at Chogan and Machk. "This is about supplying an army . . . for . . . for—"

"The Jews. We've been persecuted century after century. I'm their new Moses. I'm going to show them how to get free of persecution. It's time for every . . . you're stalling. Where are the diamonds?"

"You screwed yourself on that one, Joel. I never knew where they were. Chloe hid them in a safe but I don't know where the safe is. I would guess your men had a hard time finding it too, because they tossed the place day after day. You killed your only—"

"Where the fuck is she?" Joel shouted.

Mingan shot a glance at the office doorway and realized Joel was right – Chloe was gone.

"Come out, Chloe! Where are you? You want your boyfriend to take a bullet? Get out here or I'll kill him first, then one by one the other Indians. One little, two little, three little Indians," he sang, then laughed. "Aw, come on Chloe. I'm so tired of this shit. Get your ass out here."

"Maybe she's left the building," Mingan suggested.

"Okay, you had your chance." Joel cocked his gun and raised it toward Mingan. The loud echo of her gun answered Joel."

"Drop it – I won't warn you again," Chloe shouted.

"Fuck you!" Joel raised his gun slightly and several bullets entered his chest before he could pull the trigger. He dropped to his knees, then fell face down on the cold cement.

"Skylar?" Mingan shouted, swinging around and searching the darkness behind him.

"Who the hell is Skylar," Machk asked.

"Long story." Mingan caught a glimpse of movement in the corner and ran toward it. She sat in a chair and braced her arm on the back to steady her aim. He quickly took the gun from her and gently pulled her into his arms. "Are you going to be okay? Should we call for an ambulance?"

"I'm going to be fine. The bullet grazed my shoulder, but it hurts like hell."

"I really thought you were dead," Chogan said.

"Me too. Should I call the police or should we just leave it all for them to find?"

"Guys, I can't just leave it like this. I have to ask if you will call this number and wait for the FBI to arrive. That second number is my badge number. Tell them we'll be back as soon as we can. Come on Mingan," she shouted.

"Where you two going?" Chogan asked.

"I have to check something out."

#

#

# 

# Chapter Twelve

"Go to my place so we can clean up." She jumped into the passenger seat of the old truck.

"Why are we cleaning up?" Mingan got the vehicle up to speed within seconds.

"Why isn't the question . . . for whom is."

"You figured out where Nuttah is?"

I was on that floor wondering what I should do and that's when Janet popped into my head. I think Nuttah might go to Janet."

"You sure, Skylar?"

She liked hearing him call her by her real name. "I'm not sure of anything . . . but . . . I told you about Janet and Jimmy across the hall from Thunder?"

"Yes."

"I think Nuttah would make her way back to them. She felt safe with them. No one would think to check with Janet. I thought Nuttah might call me. She knows my number." Skylar hated admitting it hurt Nuttah hadn't reached out when she needed someone.

"The last time Nuttah saw you, you were being jerked around by Schilling and his gang. It wouldn't surprise me if she thinks you're dead. She probably thinks I'm dead, too. Poor kid must be scared out of her mind."

"I could be wrong, but we should go check it out—"

"We should have send Chogan and Machk to get her. If they find her they could all return to Montana and we'd have spared them from having to deal with the FBI - sorry."

"That's okay. You have to realize Janet wouldn't know the guys. She'd never trust them. I have to go . . . we have go. Do you think Cowboy and his thugs are still out there looking for Nuttah? They won't know Joel, Bernard, and Doris are dead. They still might believe there's a great reward in finding her."

"You need to get your FBI buddies rustling up those jerks. Every decent wrestler and his family will want to thank you. They've been under horrendous pressures just to protect their families."

"I wish I had figured this out way before so many people were hurt. Maybe those diamonds in those boxes could go into a fund to help those who need therapy to handle their loss. We could have them create a medical fund to help pay medical expenses and income supplements when a wrestler is injured and recuperating."

"That is a dynamite idea. I can't think of a better use for them."

"That would be stealing in a way, Mingan."

"Not really. They came from awful beginnings . . . who is to say what you and I found in those boxes by the time we found them? Let's allow those diamonds to do some good. I like this plan a lot, and I'll bet Thunder would too.

"How about we call it the Thunder Foundation?" She choked back her emotions.

"My brother would be very proud of that, Skylar." They grew silent for a few minutes. "Let's take Machk's truck. Less likely someone will recognize it. You have any clothes that will make you look like a boy? Pull your hair up into a baseball cap, jeans and a t-shirt. I hope you're right about this." He pulled into the drive and parked the brake.

"Me, too." She jumped out and rushed ahead of Mingan. She unlocked the front door and ran upstairs to her room. After a quick stop in the bathroom to wash off the blood and do a makeshift bandage to her shoulder, she quickly pulled on jeans and tennis. She carefully slipped into her baseball jersey from a hundred years ago, or so it seemed. In seconds she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail and pinned on the top of her head. She slid the team baseball cap on and looked in the mirror.

"Damn, don't you look just like my kid brother? Maybe not. You're just about as pale as a white girl can get, aren't you?"

"Red heads are known for having porcelain skin. I've tried tanning, but you really don't want to see how pink this pale face can be. It's not a pretty sight." She turned around and nearly choked. Mingan had wrapped his braids up under a black beanie. He wore low crotch jeans and a black shirt hanging long with several silver chains and an oversized cross. The biggest surprise was the cross earring hanging from his right ear.

"Well, little buddy, we gots ta go. My ride is a sweet beat-up red truck. Don't you be makin' fun of it, cause I takes these things rather personal."

Skylar started laughing until she dropped to the floor holding her stomach. She tried stopping, but every time she caught a glimpse of Mingan it started all over again. "Okay, okay . . . I'm getting in control . . . I promise. Did you look in the mirror?"

"Sure did and I be too sexy for words."

That alone sent Skylar into fits of laughter that bordered hysteria. "No one will recognize you, that's for sure. You really going out of the house in that? Where did you get those clothes?"

"They actually belong to Macht, although they fit him a bit tighter. Don't you have a laughing fit in front of him or he just might take offense."

"Believe me, he sees you in that getup and he'll be here laughing alongside me. We'd better get going. There's a back door into the apartment complex and I still have the key."

It didn't take them long to reach the apartment building. She slid down in her seat and pulled the cap down over her eyes. If anyone would be recognized, it would be her. People had seen her come and go from Thunder's apartment. Nuttah just had to be with Janet.

"Okay, I see nothing that would indicate we've been followed or we're being watched. How about you?"

Skylar made one final scan around the entire parking lot and opened the truck door. She walked alongside Mingan and her heart nearly beat out of her chest. What if her instincts were wrong? What if Nuttah wasn't with Janet? The next step was an Amber Alert – and the mere thought scared the hell out of Skylar. Had she handled this all wrong? Nuttah just had to be alive.

"You as scared as me?" she asked.

"I'm . . . horrified if you want the truth. I keep wondering what we're going to do if she isn't here. I'm consumed with worry. I really let her down."

"Mingan, she was gone before you even got here. If anyone let her down it was me. I should have known this deal was peaking. I should have gotten her to safety way before anything began. If she's damaged by this, it's completely my fault."

"Let's stop blaming ourselves and find her. If this doesn't work out . . . we'll try something else. We are going to find her – if not today – then tomorrow."

Skylar clenched her teeth and fought the tears that threatened to surface. They took the stairs up the three flights and walked down the hall without a word. They stood in front of Janet's door. She glanced at Mingan and allowed him to pull her into his arms.

"It's going to work out, Skylar."

She loved him that moment. He could easily have accused her of all sorts of failings – and his only concern was for her. The one man she would never have considered loving . . . and in spite of it all, she did love Mingan Keme.

"I'm so glad it's over and I can finally be me." She knocked on the door and waited.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Janet . . . it's me, Chloe."

"You aren't . . . go away!" Janet shouted.

"What? Oh, wait." She whipped off her hat and pulled the ponytail band free. "Look again, I promise you, it's me."

"What on earth?" Janet unlocked the door, but left the chain connected.

"We wanted to make sure we weren't recognized or that anyone was following us. It's safe I promise you. May we come in?" Skylar read her hesitation and glanced at Mingan and laughed. "Oh, this here is Mingan, Thunder's brother." They waited while Janet slipped the chain off the door.

"Come in quickly." Immediately she chained and locked the door. "I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm nearly out of groceries and the kids . . . I mean Jimmy is driving me nuts being cooped up all the time."

"It's nice to meet you, Janet. Skylar told me so many good things about you and your son." Mingan leaned against the door.

"Skylar?"

"That's really my name, Janet. I've been undercover. I'm FBI. I couldn't share that with anyone for so long. I'm not so sure I want to stay in this line of work."

"You sure had me fooled."

"Would it make you feel better knowing I wasn't being fake with you? I . . . was grateful for your confidence." The apartment smelled of popcorn and that alone made her think of Nuttah.

"I wondered if you had anything to do with that Buster Mosher moving out of the apartments. After I told you he was harassing me, he left. People said he didn't even take his stuff. If you did scare him away, thank you."

Skylar laughed. "All I can say is he'll never be back to bother you again." She closed her eyes for a second and drew in a breath. "She's here isn't she? Nuttah has been with you all this time. Please . . . please tell me she is here safe and—"

"Chloe! You finally found me!" Nuttah raced across the room and tossed herself into Skylar's arms.

She dropped to her knees and hugged Nuttah to her. Her left arm ached beyond words, but she found it the sweetest pain she'd ever felt. Tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"I thought you were smarter than you are."

"I'm sorry, honey, I don't know what you mean." Skylar got to her feet and sat down on the well-worn couch.

"Well, Janet said we were playing hide and seek. Every day she would give you a new clue where I was. We gave you some really good clues, too. It sure took you a long time."

"You're right, I should have guessed it long before this. I was busy with work, too, so I had to search for you when I got home. What's wrong, honey?"

"How come Uncle Mingan is standing by the door and hasn't given me a hug yet?"

Skylar smiled as Mingan drop to his knee and opened his arms. Nuttah ran straight into his embrace and clung to him. He brushed his cheeks with the back of his hand. "How come you're getting so tall? I can't believe how grown-up you are."

"I'm ten and not a little girl anymore. Why are you dressed so funny? That is how Uncle Machk dresses and I don't think it looks all that good."

"Well, if that's the way you feel, then I guess I'll go back to the way I usually dress if you like."

"I'd like. Are you going to take me home to Grandmother Sinopa and Grandfather Huritt?"

"That is definitely where you are going. Skylar and I have a few things we need to finish up here, then we'll come join you. Your Uncle Chogan and Uncle Machk will take you home."

"Who is Skylar?"

"My name is really Skylar. Chloe was just a nick-name and I've grown rather tired of it. It's like when you were a little girl and everyone called you—"

"Abukcheech!" Mingan offered.

"Everyone called you mouse when you were little?" Skylar asked.

"Yes, and I hated it!"

"Well, I rather hate the name Chloe. So I'm taking my birth name back." Skylar loved how Nuttah refused to let go of Mingan's arm.

"I think Skylar is a beautiful name and it fits you. This is a good day. Will you take me with you now?"

"I think that's a very good idea, dear, Janet said. "Why don't you go tell Jimmy you have to go home and give him a very big hug." Janet turned her back to them and sniffled. "I'm glad you have come for her . . . but I've grown very fond of having her with us. It was like having a daughter and a son. We won't ever see her again, will we?"

"Well, I hope that's not true, Janet. I have a lovely home here in Florida that I don't think I'll ever part with. I was wondering if maybe you and I could discuss the possibility of you taking care of my aunt's house while she lives in Australia. You could live in it in exchange for taking care of it. I know it's a bit of an imposition since the place is furnished and you might have to store your furniture or sell it—"

"This junk... I'd leave it in a second. Are you serious Chloe—?"

"Skylar!" Nuttah shouted. They all laughed.

"Skylar. I would truly be interested in such an arrangement. Thank you for thinking of Jimmy and me."

"You and I know the truth, Janet. You didn't have to do what you did. And who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been a compassionate and caring woman. I hope this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship." Skylar smiled and gave Janet a warm hug.

Janet stepped back and looked at Mingan and then Skylar. "You two are in love, aren't you? I don't even have to ask. I can see it in the way you look at each other. I'm happy for you both. I think Thunder would be happy about that, too."

"You and Uncle Mingan? Does that mean I can still be your little girl, Skylar?"

She didn't miss the tears that swelled in Nuttah's eyes. "Come here, Abukcheech." Skylar pulled her against her chest. "I will always love you. Your Uncle Mingan and I have got a lot of things to work out. We have a lot to learn about each other. I haven't told him this, but I do love him."

"Do you love Skylar, Uncle Mingan?"

"You sly little mouse! What do you want me to say?" Mingan teased.

"You have to say yes. She's really nice and special. Grandmother and Grandfather will have to give her a chance if we both love her."

"Well, then I have to say, yes, I love Skylar very much."

"Yippeee!" Nuttah jumped up and down. "Can I live with you . . . like a mommy and a daddy? It's the way of our people, you know."

"Yes, I know . . . I have to tell you your daddy—"

"Yes, I know. I heard the bad people talking. And Koko was happy."

"You should not call your mother, Koko." Mingan said.

"Skylar is more a mother to me than her. She never wanted a daughter but I know Skylar has always wanted a daughter. I love her more than I've ever cared about Koko. Great Grandfather Hassun said the things we do will always be with us. Koko did so many bad things and that is why she was not happy. I ran away because I didn't want them to hurt me. They hurt her, didn't they?"

Mingan lifted her into his arms and held her tight. "Yes, Koko is in the Sand Hills now."

"Maybe she will be happier there. Can we go now?"

"Yes, but only after you give Janet a big hug and thank her for taking such good care of you." Mingan lowered Nuttah to the floor.

She ran into Janet's arms. "Let's go pack up your things, Nuttah." Janet led her down the hall.

Words couldn't express the relief of having found Nuttah. It felt like the weight of the world had lifted off her shoulders. Skylar gripped her arm and winced from the pain.

"I think we should stop at ER and get that shoulder looked at and bandaged properly."

Skylar shook her head. "Actually I already put some antibiotic cream on it and a bandage. I think I'll stop by after we get Nuttah settled down. ER is no place for her right now."

"I'll have Chogun and Machk stay with her and I'll take you. You don't always have to be strong. You're not alone anymore, Skylar. I know I told Nuttah that I love you. But, I've never told you. You kind of grew on me and believe it or not, I never would have imagined I'd fall in love with a red-headed, blue eyed, pale faced napikwan. I love you, Skylar."

"There you have it - you and Thunder and that silly pact of marrying a Blackfeet girl. What were you thinking?"

"We thought we had control over such things. I now realize when it comes to women men don't have half a chance of controlling anything."

"You're finally right about something. Well handsome Indian, I love you, too. Now come over here and kiss me like you mean it."

The End

## Karnopp book published by Books We Love

Suspense

No Ordinary Killer

Revenge

Kidnapped

Atonement

Destiny's Shadow

Native American and Historical

Dark Spirit

Sacred Ground

Ransom Love

Leota Dream Woman

Whispering Sun

Whispering Spirits

Nazi Germany – Gypsies

Tango of Death – Jewish Soul

Tango of Death – Partisan Heart

Tango of Death – Gypsy Spirit

Futuristic Thriller

White Berry On The Red Willow

Young Adult

Off the Grid

Multi-published author Rita Karnopp knew at a very young age she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first story at age sixteen. She is drawn to the history of the Native American and strives to bring alive the authenticity of a time past. Whether writing suspense, Indian historicals, or contemporary romance, Rita enjoys bringing excitement and the enduring power of love to her stories.

Rita currently resides in Montana with her husband and their loveable Cockapoo named Gema. When she isn't reading, writing or doing research, Rita enjoys making dream catchers, gold panning, crystal or sapphire digging, rafting, fishing, canoeing, and spending time with her children and grandchildren.

