friends, they'd trusted each other today. Considering how far apart they'd been only days ago, the conversation had amounted to a huge gamble for both of them but he was pretty certain the results had been worth the risk. "No matter."
"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Zan asked.
"Same words, different attitude."
He uncoiled and levered himself up and out of the car, returning the smile that had brightened the darkest places in his heart. "I do believe we just turned a corner." With a two-fingered salute, he turned and went into the house.
Chapter 5
Zan woke early after a restless night and went to the computer with a muffin in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. She picked up where she'd left off, examining the remainder of Dar's file. After several minutes, her phone rang. Without taking her eyes from the screen, she reached over and picked up the receiver.
"McLaren here," she said.
"Why aren't you at the festivities?" Mac asked.
"I'll get over there eventually."
"I know you're busy with your other work, but I'd like your presence to be the first priority. Your expertise may be helpful should a crisis arise. And we've reason to believe one will."
This was the first time they'd talked since he'd asked for her help. Although his lapse into pseudo-code annoyed her, she kept her tone light. "Is this on your time or mine?"
"If you remember," he said with dry emphasis, "there was more than one element in this assignment. So I don't care if you're on the clock or off, as long as you're available when needed. Is that understood?"
Sheesh, she thought. Big brother's funny bone has been dislocated. "Understood," she echoed docilely and raised her hand in a silent salute.
"Call me if you run into any problems and remember Dad's old saying, 'forewarned is forearmed'."
He hung up, leaving her staring at the receiver. To her dismay, he'd just warned her to carry her off-duty firearm.
*****
Inside the reservation gate and more than two miles from the newspaper building, a campground had been set up filled with tipis, stripe-roofed tents and temporary booths of all sizes and shapes. Just beyond lay a parking area choked with so many vehicles that she parked at the outer edge, far from where the powwow itself took place.
Above her, the sun rode high in the sky, like a great, brassy disk. A hot, dry light rained down on the scorched prairie. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax as she soaked in the heat. This climate suited her better than the humid summers in Virginia and New York. Even her injury hurt less out here. She wondered how the winters would be.
Reluctantly, she heeded Mac's warning, unlocked the glove compartment and removed her revolver. Once, it had represented safety and a necessary tool of her trade. Now, the silver blue object felt heavy and cold, reminding her how quickly such a weapon had ended one life and changed another. With a shudder, she chambered a cartridge, then dropped the revolver into her shoulder bag. She swung her legs outside and crossed the parking area.
She made her way down the rows of vehicles and drifted through the crowd. How would she locate Stormwalker, if he was here among the thousands of people? As if to emphasize the difficulty, groups of young men chanted and drummed out steady, measured rhythms that intensified the general cacophony of sound. The scene shimmered and vibrated with color wherever dancers practiced in their feathers and beads.
Crowds of appreciative buyers or curious onlookers made their way from one stall to another admiring the creations. Hordes of children converted mere chaos into total anarchy as they darted between the booths and chased each other around adults who turned their pathways into an obstacle course.
After a fruitless search of the crowd, she decided to have Mike paged over the P.A. system. Perhaps he could lead her to Stormwalker. About to enter the office, she saw Katti approach.
"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Zan asked.
"Same words, different attitude."
He uncoiled and levered himself up and out of the car, returning the smile that had brightened the darkest places in his heart. "I do believe we just turned a corner." With a two-fingered salute, he turned and went into the house.
Chapter 5
Zan woke early after a restless night and went to the computer with a muffin in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. She picked up where she'd left off, examining the remainder of Dar's file. After several minutes, her phone rang. Without taking her eyes from the screen, she reached over and picked up the receiver.
"McLaren here," she said.
"Why aren't you at the festivities?" Mac asked.
"I'll get over there eventually."
"I know you're busy with your other work, but I'd like your presence to be the first priority. Your expertise may be helpful should a crisis arise. And we've reason to believe one will."
This was the first time they'd talked since he'd asked for her help. Although his lapse into pseudo-code annoyed her, she kept her tone light. "Is this on your time or mine?"
"If you remember," he said with dry emphasis, "there was more than one element in this assignment. So I don't care if you're on the clock or off, as long as you're available when needed. Is that understood?"
Sheesh, she thought. Big brother's funny bone has been dislocated. "Understood," she echoed docilely and raised her hand in a silent salute.
"Call me if you run into any problems and remember Dad's old saying, 'forewarned is forearmed'."
He hung up, leaving her staring at the receiver. To her dismay, he'd just warned her to carry her off-duty firearm.
*****
Inside the reservation gate and more than two miles from the newspaper building, a campground had been set up filled with tipis, stripe-roofed tents and temporary booths of all sizes and shapes. Just beyond lay a parking area choked with so many vehicles that she parked at the outer edge, far from where the powwow itself took place.
Above her, the sun rode high in the sky, like a great, brassy disk. A hot, dry light rained down on the scorched prairie. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax as she soaked in the heat. This climate suited her better than the humid summers in Virginia and New York. Even her injury hurt less out here. She wondered how the winters would be.
Reluctantly, she heeded Mac's warning, unlocked the glove compartment and removed her revolver. Once, it had represented safety and a necessary tool of her trade. Now, the silver blue object felt heavy and cold, reminding her how quickly such a weapon had ended one life and changed another. With a shudder, she chambered a cartridge, then dropped the revolver into her shoulder bag. She swung her legs outside and crossed the parking area.
She made her way down the rows of vehicles and drifted through the crowd. How would she locate Stormwalker, if he was here among the thousands of people? As if to emphasize the difficulty, groups of young men chanted and drummed out steady, measured rhythms that intensified the general cacophony of sound. The scene shimmered and vibrated with color wherever dancers practiced in their feathers and beads.
Crowds of appreciative buyers or curious onlookers made their way from one stall to another admiring the creations. Hordes of children converted mere chaos into total anarchy as they darted between the booths and chased each other around adults who turned their pathways into an obstacle course.
After a fruitless search of the crowd, she decided to have Mike paged over the P.A. system. Perhaps he could lead her to Stormwalker. About to enter the office, she saw Katti approach.
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