Chapter 1

It wasn’t fair.

Elsie Begay kicked at a rock on the dirt road, imagining Lyle Tonale’s smug face. Or better yet, Mr. Harper’s. How could anyone so stupid be allowed to teach school? Anyone who’d believe she would help Lyle cheat on a test must be a complete idiot. Now she had an F because Lyle was too lazy to study and Mr. Harper was too stupid to see what went on right under his nose.

She’d never gotten an F before. Even if it wasn’t her fault, Elsie was not looking forward to telling her mother. Especially on a Friday. And getting her sisters to study was already too hard.

“Excuse me!”

Elsie looked up. She hadn’t noticed the truck parked beside the road. It was an older truck, blue, with a dirty white camper shell and a New Mexico license plate. It looked like a Reservation truck, right down to the layer of dried red mud covering most of its lower half, but it was not one Elsie knew.

She didn’t know the man standing beside the truck either. He had straight black hair worn in a shoulder-length ponytail and the build of an Eastern Reservation Dineh, but there was something wrong with his eyes.

“Could you help me?” he called. “I can’t figure out where I am.” He nodded at a map spread across the truck’s hood.

“Sure.” Elsie crossed the dirt road, secretly glad for the delay. Now she saw why his eyes had looked strange – strange for a Dineh, anyway. They were pale blue.

The hood of the truck was even with Elsie’s nose. It would have been impolite to grab the man’s map, but even standing on her tiptoes she couldn’t really see it. Fortunately, he noticed the trouble she was having.

“Let me move that for you,” he said. He picked up the map and laid it on the driver’s side of the truck’s bench seat. When he stepped back to make room for her, Elsie moved around the open door and leaned over the map.

She was sprawling across the seat, the road map crumpling under her. He was behind the wheel and closing the door before she realized he had shoved her. Elsie scrambled to sit up as he started the engine. Instinct made her grab the passenger door handle but he caught her left wrist and yanked her back before she could get the door open. He pushed her down onto the floorboard and shifted the truck into drive. The look he turned on her as the truck started to move made it suddenly hard to breathe. Elsie stayed where she lay.

Chapter 2

“I thought I’d find you hiding up here.”

Special Agent Gray Keller looked up from the case file he was reading as Julie Franklin, Gray’s one-time trainee, dropped into the armchair beside him. Gray watched her slide deep into the cushions, mimicking his sprawled pose. The extra six inches his lanky frame had over her slender build kept her from pulling it off.

“You’re here early,” he said.

“I got called in for a meeting. What’ve you got there?”

“The Marcus Chambers file.” Gray gave her a closer look. Julie only resorted to small talk when she was nervous.

“That was an interesting one. You using it in your class?” Her expression was as neutral as her tone.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Julie turned to admire the FBI Academy Library’s second story view of the east Virginia countryside. Gray turned back to his file, content to wait her out.

“I don’t know why you bother coming up here,” she said. “Windows are wasted on you.”

“No phones,” Gray replied without looking up.

“Don’t I know it. I had to hoof it up the last two flights because you weren’t there to answer your phone.”

“What’s wrong with the elevator?” Gray asked, refusing to take the bait.

“Filled up with recruits fresh off the Yellow Brick Road.”

“That would make for an aromatic ride,” Gray agreed. The past week had been unusually hot for May, and the Academy’s outdoor obstacle course could make a healthy man sweat in a January blizzard.

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like the aroma of sweaty young white boys. I just can’t stand all the groaning.”

Gray smiled at his file. She was winning. “How does Curtis feel about these exotic appetites of yours?”

“Same way I feel about his. It doesn’t matter where we get hungry as long as we eat at home.”

Gray admitted defeat with a chuckle. “Okay, what made you struggle up four flights to find me so early on a Monday morning?”

“That meeting I mentioned. I got handed an on-site. A hot one.” Julie’s voice lost its teasing tone. “I could use some help.”

Gray closed his file. “What kind of help?”

“I want you to go with me.”

If it had been anyone but Julie, Gray would have ended the conversation right there. But Julie knew what she was asking, and that, unfortunately, made him curious.

“What makes you think you need me along?”

“Six bodies in eight weeks. All female. Four children and two young women. All killed with a knife. All subject to the same specific, controlled, postmortem mutilation and ritualistic body placement. At least three of them, probably all of them, kept alive for several days after being abducted.”

Gray turned to the view Julie had admonished him for ignoring. He had been reading too long without giving his eyes a break. The landscape was a green blur. “What does he do to them while they’re alive?” he asked. He heard the detachment in his voice and wondered if Julie believed it. He didn’t.

“I don’t have all the details yet,” Julie said. “But I don’t think he does anything. At least nothing the medical examiner can find.”

Gray felt her studying him. He kept his eyes on the green haze.

“Gray, you’ve got to get past this. I can’t even begin to guess how many people, how many children, are alive today because you helped catch the men who would’ve killed them. So you made a mistake. You're human. We all screw up sooner or later. In this job it’s inevitable. You’re still the best profiler the unit’s ever had.”

Gray said nothing. Julie had made it clear from the beginning how she felt about his decision to leave the Profiling and Behavioral Assessment Unit. Gray understood her reasons for wanting him to come back to the unit, even if she didn’t understand his reasons for leaving. Her motives made these occasional maternal rants forgivable.

“I’m sorry. Curtis is right. I’m a lot better at minding everyone else’s business than I am at minding my own.” She paused. “I just really could use your help on this one.”

Something in her voice made Gray turn away from the window. He could see it in her eyes, too, even though she wouldn’t meet his gaze. What was there about this case that could make Julie Franklin unsure of herself?

“You’re up to this, Julie. You’re as good as I ever was. You don’t need me along to hold your hand.”

Julie smiled wanly. “No one’s as good as you, Gray. Not even you.”

What was that supposed to mean? Gray shook his head. Julie’s odd demeanor was starting to rub off on him. “I can free myself up for the rest of the day. We can go over the case material before you go, see what we can come up with together. When are you leaving?”

“Noon, out of Dulles. Like I said, it’s a hot one. And I don’t have any case material. All I know is what I was told in the briefing this morning. Look, Gray . . .” Julie stopped and stared at her feet. “I’m not the only one who thinks you should be going along on this assignment.”

A cold ball formed in the pit of Gray’s stomach. “Harvey?” he asked, hoping that was a high as it went. He could handle the new head of the PBAU.

Julie shook her head. “Washington. Harvey said they asked for the two of us by name – well, they asked for me. Your involvement was more like a suggestion. Officially, anyway.”

Gray snorted. “Of course it was. I’m not in the unit anymore. Son of a bitch.”

“I could tell them I'd rather not work with you.” Julie glanced at him sideways, a sly smile on her face. “Harvey would back me up.”

Gray couldn't help returning her smile. “Guess he's not exactly overjoyed Headquarters is telling him to send me out on his first big one.”

Julie’s smile broadened into a grin. “Not exactly. You notice he didn’t deliver the news of your popularity himself. I’m sure he thought about it. Bringing you such joy would almost be worth having to admit to your face that ‘Mom’ likes you best.”

Gray chuckled. Thank God it was Julie. He wasn't sure how he would have reacted to Harvey, but he was sure it would not have done his career much good. Gray slumped back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands.

“I was serious, Gray. The case is officially mine. I happen to think it would do you a lot of good, but if you don't want to work it I'll find someone else. Headquarters can shove their suggestions.”

“You going to tell them that? Because Harvey won't. He might not want me on one of his cases, but he sure as hell isn't going to tell that to Washington, even if it is his prerogative. He's not that stupid. And neither are you.”

Julie shrugged. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

Gray wasn't fooled by her cavalier attitude. She knew exactly what she was offering to step in for him. He could refuse the assignment himself, of course, but he'd been in the Bureau long enough to know the bureaucracy didn't always remember the details when it was defied. Who had been in charge was often more important than who had actually done the offending. Too bad it wasn’t Harvey’s case.

“Find something more creative to trash your career over,” he said. “Who’s party are we crashing?”

Julie gave him a hard look before answering. “Our own, actually. The victims were all Navajo. All of them were taken, and found, on the Navajo Reservation, so it’s strictly Bureau jurisdiction. It’s being handled out of the Resident Agency in Farmington, New Mexico. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Come on, Julie, we’re friends. You think I’d make you go on the road with Harvey? Besides, didn’t you say you needed me on this one?”

Her frown held an echo of the uncertainty he’d seen earlier. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. It’s your case. You take the lead. I go along for the ride, provide moral support, and in the process I rack up some markers with Washington.”

“And me.”

Gray smiled. “And you. And I get to piss off Harvey. The more I think about it, the more I like it.”

“Well, you might not like this. The weather’s looking pretty brown out there.”

The news just kept getting better. “How brown?”

“We’ve got a short cycle UNSUB targeting kids from probably the worst treated minority in the country. The local community is not going to be happy 'the experts' are just now getting on it, and you know they’re going to love it when we announce it’s most likely one of their own doing it. Why do you think the only black, female agent in the unit got tapped to go out there? I'm as ethnic as they could get. Word is someone at Headquarters got a call yesterday from an Albuquerque reporter wanting their comments for a piece he was putting together for the AP. As soon as that hits the wires the flood gates are gonna open. This has the potential to turn into one hell of a shit storm, with the Bureau all alone at the helm.”

“Wonderful.”

Gray frowned, struck by a new thought. “I don’t suppose it’s just a coincidence we got tapped right after Washington got that reporter’s call?”

Julie sour expression answered his question. “The request for PBAU involvement originated in Washington. I called Farmington as soon as I got out of Harvey’s office,” she hurried on, cutting off Gray’s disparaging comment. “The senior agent seems honestly glad we’re coming, despite having the decision made for him. He said he was about to have the Albuquerque SAC put in a call to us anyway. His name is Eugene Brady, and he’s picking us up at the Farmington airport himself. He prefers to be called Brady, by the way.”

Julie was a born diplomat. Getting shoved down the primary investigator’s throat by Higher Powers seldom made for a good start, even when the primary was a fellow agent.

“Harvey better watch out,” Gray said. “The way you handle damage control, you’ll be moving into management in no time.”

“No way. Look what it did to Harvey.”

Gray pushed himself out of the chair and picked up his files. “I’ve got to find Roger and let him know he’s taking my class this week. Meet me back up here at ten. I carpooled in this morning, so you’re giving me a ride to the airport, after we stop by my apartment so I can pack.”

“You don’t want to meet down in the office?”

Gray shook his head. “No point in torturing Harvey that much. With his talents, he just might make Director before I hit retirement.”

Chapter 3

Lane Alden pulled her Ford Explorer off of Highway 666 and into the strip mall parking lot. She was relieved she had found a gas station on the edge of Shiprock. The station was on the end of the strip mall, next to a pharmacy, a Laundromat and a pizza shop, but the pizza shop was closed and there was only one car in front of the Laundromat. The parking lot was reassuringly devoid of life.

Lane would have preferred bypassing the town of Shiprock completely and driving straight to Ship Rock, the natural monolith that gave the town its name, but there were no roads leading to Ship Rock on her map. The idea of wandering around on unmarked dirt roads with less than half a tank of gas was enough to make talking to a gas station attendant bearable. Besides, she was out of coffee, and even stations that hadn’t surrendered to the convenience store mentality usually had a coffee maker for the employees.

Lane parked her truck beside the pump and climbed out, bracing herself against the side of the truck to counter the stiffness in her leg. It was only 9:00AM, but she had been behind the wheel longer than the sun had been up. Once she had the nozzle in her tank she balanced on her right foot and worked her left knee, bending and straightening it in a motion that had long since become mindless habit. By the time the old pump had filled her tank the stiffness had eased enough to let her walk to the station’s office with only a slight limp.

The overly friendly smile the young man behind the counter gave her almost stopped Lane from asking for directions. She knew her green eyes and narrow face gave her away as an outsider despite the straight black hair she had inherited from her grandmother, but she was afraid he might offer to show her the town personally if she admitted to being a new arrival. He didn’t go that far, thankfully, though he did do his best to impress her with his charm as he wrote out directions he guaranteed would get her right to the base of Ship Rock. There was no coffee, but he did offer her a Pepsi – warm, the way her grandmother had preferred them. Lane handed him two twenties and told him to keep the change. Then she made a quick exit.

She slowed to navigate the two steps outside the office door. Going down stairs often gave her knee trouble, but she reached the dusty ground without incident. An old pickup truck with an even older camper shell had parked between the station and her truck while she was inside. Lane detoured around it, anxious to leave before the attendant had a chance to screw up his courage and come after her.

She was behind the old truck when her knee gave out with its customary abruptness. Lane reached out instinctively and grabbed the camper shell’s latch for support.

A wave of terror broke over her. The shock of it froze Lane in place. She couldn’t breathe. A voice in her head screamed at her to let go of the camper. She knew her contact with the latch was the source, but she couldn’t make her fingers obey. Too relaxed. She had gotten too relaxed, too open, driving on the Reservation’s empty roads. Lane forced air into her lungs and tried to pull away from the fear surging through her.

A man stepped in front of her. Long black hair, pale blue eyes, and a pock-marked face filled Lane’s vision, adding a surge of her own fear to the chaos in her head. The man frowned at her and took a step forward.

“Everything okay out here?”

The station attendant’s voice broke through Lane’s paralysis. She lurched past the truck’s driver, forcing her leg to carry her. She could not make her lungs draw a full breath until she was back in her own truck and moving too fast down the highway, with no sign of a blue pickup behind her.