Eye of the Falcon Page 3

  Gray was getting out of the cab of his white truck. He slammed it shut and glared at Eagle. “You could have given me an explanation.”

  “It would have taken too long,” Eagle said calmly. He nodded inside. “You need to see this.”

  Gray’s name matched the closely cut short head of whitish hair and beard. He shook his head. “It’s not like you to be so mysterious.”

  “Did you tell anyone where you were coming?” Eagle asked belatedly. Shit, he should’ve warned Gray first. Eagle glanced around the area, his gaze searching the shadows. Had someone chased her? Tracked her here? If so he had to prepare. He had no intention of letting anyone at her again. Not once she’d finally escaped.

  He motioned the old man inside.

  Gray walked up the porch steps, almost being deliberately slow to aggravate Eagle.

  Unfortunately Eagle didn’t have any time or patience. “You didn’t answer me,” he snapped. “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

  Gray raised both hands in exasperation and walked into the house. “Who would I tell? I live alone, remember?”

  “I wonder why,” Eagle said.

  “No sass, boy,” Gray muttered. “You live alone too, remember?”

  With the door locked behind them, Gray raised his eyebrows, and the two hairy lines shot toward his hairline. He stared at Eagle wordlessly.

  “Follow me.” Eagle led the way to the bedroom to see the woman exactly as he had left her. Like Rikker’s magical disappearance, Eagle had been a little worried she’d disappear as well.

  Gray stopped in the doorway and studied her. “Shit,” he whispered. “Who is she, and what happened to her?”

  “I don’t know the answer to either question.”

  Gray was all business now. He dropped his bag on the floor beside the bed and rolled up his sleeves. “Explain,” he barked.

  Eagle shared the little bit he knew, leaving off much of the mystical stuff he still struggled with himself.

  Gray shot him a hard look, carefully pulled back the covers, and sucked in his breath. Then he proceeded to check her over. With Eagle’s help, they gently rolled her to her stomach. With her back exposed, Eagle took the opportunity to wash and clean the scratches that went up and down her frail body.

  “I don’t like that bullet hole or the bullet graze alongside her head,” Gray announced. He tapped her good shoulder. “Not sure what kind of life she’s lived, but that looks like a very old bullet hole too.”

  Eagle studied the small scar. “Not an easy life obviously. But these new injuries … Why do you think I called you?”

  “You should’ve called for an ambulance and the sheriff.”

  “Not happening.” Eagle wouldn’t budge on that issue, not until he knew who had done this to her.

  Gray settled back on his heels. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? She isn’t your problem.”

  At that, Eagle said nothing.

  Gray raised both hands again, this time in frustration. “Fine, don’t be sensible. Don’t let the authorities know where she is. Don’t let her family know she’s safe.”

  “You get a point for that last one. But not the rest.”

  “That’s the thing about family. Nobody gets to be her age without having parents, siblings, or somebody who cares about her.” He picked up her ring finger. “No evidence of a wedding ring, so you might be off the hook of any husband. That doesn’t mean she can’t have a live-in partner of the last five years.”

  Eagle nodded. “It also doesn’t mean that live-in partner isn’t the same asshole who held her captive and beat her to the point she ran until her feet were skinned bare to escape him.”

  Gray let out a slow breath. Then gave a clipped nod. “Okay, point to you too.” He turned to look down at her. “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Help me get the bullet out, patch her up, and deal with the head wound. If you have any antibiotics to stop some of the infection waiting to take over, that would be good. Plus any painkillers in that bag of yours too. There’s no flesh on her bones, and whatever trauma she’s been through would’ve been more than just physical. She’s a fighter,” Eagle said quietly. “She got this far on her own. She needs every chance we can give her.”

  “And if the men who did this to her come after her?”

  Eagle gave him a grim smile. “As soon as we get that bullet out, I can set up the security system outside.” His gaze narrowed. “Then I’m loading up every weapon in the house, in case I get a chance to empty them into the asshole who did this to her.”

  Gray warned, “You can’t take on every ill in the world, you know?”

  “No, just those that come to my front door.” Eagle turned and walked out.

  *

  “Did you find her?”

  Dylan stared at his longtime boss and swallowed hard, then shook his head. “No. We tripped his security system,” he said bluntly. “As we bolted, Jordan here fell back and took some kind of a spear in the belly.”

  The boss looked down at the man gasping for breath on the floor and nodded. “And yet you weren’t injured?”

  “It looks like he runs some kind of raptor center.”

  “Raptor?” the boss said, his voice low, sharp with interest. “Anything of importance?”

  “I don’t think so. Honestly it was dark, and I couldn’t help but see a thousand eyes staring at us the whole time. It was damn spooky.”

  The boss nodded quietly, contemplating the sky over their heads.

  “Boss, can we get some help for Jordan here?” Dylan asked, motioning to the man collapsed on the floor, still groaning. “I know he deserved the punishment for letting her escape, but surely he’s suffered enough?”

  The boss nodded. “Absolutely.” And, right in front of them, he pulled out a handgun, pointed, and fired, placing a bullet between Jordan’s eyes.

  Dylan swallowed again and again. He stared down at the man he’d worked with the last few months. He hadn’t known him well. He’d been a laborer the boss had picked up, but he’d been here the whole time they’d held Issa captive. Dylan had even wondered himself if it was safe to keep Jordan around when this was over and done with. He wasn’t sure the man could keep his mouth shut.

  Not to mention the boss had asked Issa a lot of questions. Dumb questions. Dylan had thought they were more stupid curiosity, but still the boss had the power to shock him. The boss got colder every day. With the boss’s breath slowly calming down, Dylan turned to look at him. “Where do you want me to dump him?”

  This wasn’t the first time Dylan had disposed of a body. But this was the first time a man was gunned down beside him. Dylan didn’t dare show any nervousness. There was a whole lot of mean in the boss—especially lately. And he appeared to no longer have any boundaries as to what he’d do or wouldn’t do.

  “Take him out to the ditch in the back. Bury him deep enough we don’t have to worry about the animals. Make sure the job is done properly.”

  Dylan nodded. He glanced at the big man at his feet and sighed. “Maybe you could hire a smaller man next time.” He bent down, grabbed Jordan by the hood, and dragged him out the front door. There wasn’t much for flooring here thankfully. Just dirt, but he still left a blood trail.

  A trail he knew he’d have to clean up fast. When he got to the front step, he walked around the building, turned on the tractor with the bucket on the front, hopped on it, and drove around to the front. Reversing the front-end loader so the bucket was down in front of the porch, he got off the seat, dragged the body into the bucket, and, with his chest heaving, straightened up again. Wiping his brow, he walked back around to the driver’s seat, hopped up, and raised the bucket. Then he drove around the side of the cabin and parked. He knew better than to leave that blood trail visible for long. There were too many people around this place.

  He went back in with the bucket of dirt that sat outside and spread it on top of the blood. Then grabbed several more bucketfuls. He gave it a couple min
utes, then grabbed the heavy rake and smoothed over the area. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but there wasn’t any other way. Blood was blood.

  The boss never said a word. He sat beside the fire, his laptop on his legs, and wrote notes. He was a hell of a smart man. Dylan had to admit he was worried that maybe the boss had bit off more than he could chew. His fascination with that damn girl and her birds had cost him a lot. Then he was haunted by so much more.

  The two were actually old friends in many ways but not when push came to shove. … Dylan spent his life looking after the boss. Not the other way around. The boss was very clear on that.

  When the inside was cleaned up, Dylan hopped back onto the tractor and drove carefully along the trails.

  There’d been a lot of rain lately, and the ground was soft. At the back of the property were a couple ditches. He was pretty sure he could find a place to put Jordan and not have anybody ask any questions. When he got to the spot he was thinking of, he hopped off and took a good look. They’d had a spring runoff, and some of the ditches had ended up very deep. He considered one that was well over six feet deep, almost a crevice.

  He turned the front-end loader around to get into position, and, when he could, he dumped the body into the place he’d thought would do for a deep-enough grave. Then he maneuvered the bucket to pick up rocks from close by and slowly filled in the area. When he was done, he got off, grabbed some of the deadfall from around the area and dragged it over the top.

  Then he backed up the tractor, and, with his boots, he made scuff marks so the area was clear of any tire tracks.

  Inside, his mind was in turmoil. Had Jordan been shot because he had failed to guard the girl? Or because he’d been injured, and that made him a liability? It didn’t matter what the answer was because Dylan got that much closer to being the next one forfeited. In fact, as he drove back, he worried he would get a bullet right away. The boss had kept him around to take care of Jordan’s body, but now what? Just because they’d been together for years didn’t give Dylan a free pass.

  He walked back into the cabin and headed for the kitchen. There he washed up and started dinner. He did all kinds of jobs here. None of them mattered. He didn’t have any other life. He had given his life to the big man eons ago. Dylan was too old to do anything different. He was a wiry monkey man, strong, but there wasn’t a whole lot to him now. He’d aged and not well. He used to be as bombastic and fiery over issues as his boss was. The boss was much younger, but the years were becoming more noticeable as he aged too. The question now was, how long did Dylan have?

  For a long time he thought loyalty was the answer to longevity. Now he had to wonder if a bullet was in his near future. He prepped the potatoes and tossed them into the pan to start frying. He could hear the boss on the phone.

  Bits and pieces of the conversation came his way. None of it made a lot of sense. Dylan and the boss were both Irish, but it was as if his boss spoke a different language. That was okay. The less Dylan knew, the better.

  It might stave off that bullet for a while.

  Chapter 4

  Issa listened to the footsteps retreating from the bedroom. She had no idea who this man was. She’d only awoken to the pain—fingers poking and prodding.

  It was hard to lie motionless as they continued to explore her wounds. Her feet felt funny—warm, yet cold; stinging, and yet healing. She couldn’t figure out what they’d done to her feet. Everything hurt so damn much. Now if only she knew where she was, why she was here, and who these men were. The one thing she did know was that Roash stood guard beside her.

  As if sensing she was awake, her falcon leaned forward and gently stroked his beak along her temple. Hot tears came to her eyes. She didn’t know if anybody could possibly understand how bereft her life had been, how empty since she had lost her own falcon two decades ago. Roash had filled those footprints more than most, but their relationship still didn’t have the same depth as what she’d had.

  It seemed like she had spent all that time searching for another feathered friend, an animal that would give her the same connection. Something about this one made her hope and, at the same time, made her fear. This was the second time in her life everything had blown up.

  The first time had cost lives. And everything she’d known—her father, her brothers, her homeland, and the house she’d spent every day in. The fields and the hills, the cliffs and crannies, she had climbed and crawled and laughed and played on them all. But the loss of her own falcon had hurt the most. It turned her into a mute for many months. Nobody understood. Specialists said it was the shock and trauma of losing so many family members. But, in fact, it was the trauma of having the voice in her head go silent. It had been … special. The two of them together had been … incredible. But she’d been a child, and nobody had believed her. They understood the falcon came when she called, that he had been trained, and, even though she was young, she had worked hard to develop the bond between them. Of course she had. Her father had always threatened to take the falcon away if the two didn’t do their best for him.

  Her dad had been an opportunistic man, gleefully dealing in activities that the government would’ve done a lot to stop. But it was the only way he knew. It was how he fed his family, how he’d been raised. And it was a life he took to naturally. He led a large group of trusted men just like him.

  She’d had an odd relationship with her father. As long as she was of value, she was treated fairly. But, even though a mere child, dare she cross him … As such, her memories were conflicting. Most of the time she was happy with foggy memories that allowed her to see him in a warmer light. But she was an adult now. She knew he had been a smuggler. But the other charges she’d seen on that criminal record sheet had shocked her. Made her question her childhood.

  The covers were pulled off her body yet again. She knew she should be worried that whoever checked her over was someone she didn’t know. And that her body was entirely exposed and just as injured. But she had heard nothing but compassion in either of the men’s voices. Soon blankets were pulled up to her neck, and a welcomed warmth invaded her body.

  She was so very cold. In her homeland, she was used to the cold, as they all were. You got up in the morning, and you could see your breath in the air, and she found a certain joy in the experience. Evidence of the freshness of the world around them. And she missed it.

  She missed so much. Everything that had happened in her twenty-six years of life, she could label into parts: part one being before the nightmare, before she lost all but one family member.

  Part two being the aftermath. That horrible stage of immigrating to America, forced to see doctors and specialists, looked upon as an oddity, attending school, which she had no interest in. A life without her father or her brothers. Or her beloved falcon. A life inside the concrete city with concrete boxes stacked on top of other concrete boxes and stuck beside more concrete boxes.

  Life where there were no green hills, no waves crashing on the shores below. And worse yet, no breath hanging frozen on the air when she got up in the mornings. And no falcon ever at her side. The loss had been overpowering.

  Part three was the adjustment. Growing up, going to schools, multiples of them, finding a life worth living, learning to understand what relationships were, her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first affair, and then her first graduation and her second graduation, followed by a third. Those were the normal steps in life here. Although she’d been behind when she first arrived in the States and had been held back from school for a long time until she began to speak again and could pass her placement tests, she’d eventually made the most of her new reality.

  Until part four. When her physically healthy mother, at only sixty-two, had a heart attack and died on the kitchen floor, while Issa had been working on her research at the university. She’d found her mother when she had arrived for dinner. And all that part one pain and shock and loss reopened, and she realized how little she’d dealt with that original pa
in.

  Now an adult, she had been forced to go through the motions of organizing her mother’s body for cremation and finding a place to lay her to rest. It had been tough to go back into her mother’s apartment to clean up her personal belongings.

  And just like Pandora’s Box, she’d opened the box of paperwork and then been kidnapped—her world split anew and part five began.

  Part five tore her world apart.

  The footsteps returned. She couldn’t stop the shudder rippling down her spine. She didn’t know who this first man was, but she recognized caring when she felt it.

  He’d brought her in from the cold, but, more than that, … Roash trusted him.

  For her, that said everything.

  Until she heard a second voice. And the thick Irish accent.

  *

  “How is she?” Eagle hovered as Gray cleansed and then stitched up the head injury.

  “She needs a doctor,” Gray snapped. “How do you expect her to be?” He twisted to stare at Eagle. “I get that you don’t want to bring in the sheriff, that you want nothing to do with authority anymore, but what you can’t have is this woman dying on you.”

  Eagle’s voice was hard. “That’s why I brought you in.”

  Gray shook his head. “That’s not good enough. I don’t have the proper facilities here to take out that bullet.”

  “You do it, or I do it,” Eagle said firmly. “No law enforcement types.”

  Gray twisted on the side of the bed and glared at him. “Why? Why would you choose to put her life at risk by not calling for help?”

  “Because she’s running for her life. Somebody shot her. No way in hell am I letting anybody else know she’s here.”

  He watched as Gray’s face worked. In many ways Gray was like Eagle, somebody who didn’t do well with the establishment. But Gray would call the sheriff or EMTs. Or a lawyer. Whoever was needed, he would reach out for help, whereas Eagle had been the help for a long time. Being in the military, he’d spent time all around the world, helping military coups, fighting against insurgents, saving people, rescuing kidnap victims. He’d been the one everyone called for when they needed help.