Page 12 of Desert Angel

“Or was it?” Wayne said, his tone curt. “You might have made things worse.”

“How could Dylan make things worse?” Nikki asked, her tone incredulous. “He’s been here a couple of days. No one even knows he’s here but you and the police.”

Wayne sputtered and then turned to the young officer and growled at him. “You going to stand there or you going to look at the house?”

The officer shrugged and turned. As he headed to the rear of the property, Dylan thought he could hear him muttering something. Something better off not hearing, he thought and looked at Nikki. “I better go with him.”

She eyed Wayne who was still standing near them. “I’ll join you,” she said and shut the door firmly before walking ahead of the two men. Dylan sauntered beside Wayne, not bothering to hide his satisfaction that Nikki didn’t want to be alone with the man.

It didn’t take more than half an hour for the officer to decide the fire was set. A faint odor of gasoline remained on the remains and though the smoking pile of wood was still hot to the touch, the officer deemed it safe enough to leave alone. Still, Dylan retrieved the water hose and while the others were watching, doused the wood with more water. Any other evidence besides the gasoline starter was drenched or burned anyway.

Wayne hinted at staying with Nikki after the officer finished his report but she insisted that she needed a nap. When he’d left she sighed. “Our eggs are cold.”

“I’m hungry enough to eat them anyway,” Dylan said and turned toward the house. She walked alongside him. “Why would anyone want to burn down that old hut?”

“You know why, Nikki. Now we only have to find out who.”

7

They did manage a nap that morning. Dylan helped her with the goats, even trying his hand at milking one of the more mellow of the nannies. Nikki found with relief that she could smile and laugh in the midst of her troubles and chuckled at his attempts at stealing eggs from nests and dodging the kids as they gamboled around him in the enclosure. Finally, both of them grinning and Nikki joking about him quitting security work in favor of goat herding, they headed to the house.

He stretched out on the sofa and she headed to her bedroom and a few hours of rest. As she lay down on her bed, Nikki thought of his words as they’d headed to the goat enclosure. He was sure the arsonist, shooter, and goat killer had the goal of discouraging or punishing her for her desert work. But how was that possible? She was only taking water to the desert, not transporting migrants or even harboring them, though, she had to admit, she’d thought of it a time or two in the cold of the desert winters. Now, they had to find out who would think violence would deter her.

The nap refreshed Nikki and gave her the energy to work on her goat lotions and soaps. But instead of being able to focus on her mixtures, she had to face a determined Dylan. “But I wasn’t planning on going into Animas today.”

“We need to start working on any leads, Nikki. And if Animas is a place you frequent, we need to go there and see what’s what.”

“Animas is where I go if I have to send something by UPS or if I need something in a pinch. If I want to go grocery shopping or such, I go to Lordsburg.”

“So we’ll go both places,” he persisted and she sighed, then headed for the key hook and her shoulder bag.

The tiny town of Animas took very little time to go through. They stopped at the small grocery store, where Nikki rarely shopped, then headed to the UPS hub. She greeted the clerk and chatted for a couple of minutes, introducing Dylan as a friend. She could see the confusion on the young woman’s face when she didn’t produce a package to mail but Nikki tried her best to cover. “Dylan is visiting and wanted to see the village.”

“Really?” Disbelief showed on the clerk’s face. Not many people happened upon the small town and it wasn’t a mecca for tourists. Nikki led the way out of the building and slanted a wry glance at Dylan. “You think she’s our culprit?”

“Haha. Let’s check out the hardware store then head to Lordsburg.”

They were in the truck within the next few minutes and Nikki turned to look at the passing scenery with a smile. Dylan drove with a surety of purpose, just like he’d used in talking to the hardware store proprietor. They’d talked nails and saws, discussed cleaning up from the fire, which the man had known about before they entered the store, and Dylan had kept any opinion of the owner to himself as they’d returned to the truck. Now, on their way to Lordsburg, he concentrated his attention on the road ahead.

Nikki let the silence reign for a few minutes then asked. “What do you think?”

“I think you were right about Animas. No one seems to have anything to say about your desert work. Do they even know?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve not bought any jugs there, not said anything. As I mentioned, I rarely go there.”

“And the other ranchers? I noticed there are some of their cards on the bulletin board in the hardware store.”

“I know some by name, others by sight. I’ve only met a few of the owners. Some are absentees, others go to Douglas or Albuquerque instead of Animas. Maybe their hands go into town to buy beer or something, but I wouldn’t know them.”

He nodded then gestured at the garage on the edge of town. “Let’s see what Lordsburg has to offer.”

They stopped off at the garage, where she had her truck repaired on occasion. Then the town tour began. She took him to the library, the café, where they had a piece of pie and coffee, a stop at the trading post and truck stop, where she took a load of soaps and lotions each month for sale, followed by a stop at the senior citizen’s center. She turned an amazed glance on him when he mentioned that stop. “Most of the people there are old, Dylan.”

“But they hear things, Nikki. Things you and I may think are small and tedious, older people pay attention to.”

She shook her head and introduced him to the regulars that she saw when she came to leave goat hair for spinning. Several of the women there flirted openly with Dylan, either forgetting he was forty years their junior or not caring. Nikki watched as he gently returned their attentions and admired the yarns they made from the goat hair, even trying on some of the knitted and crocheted products they displayed. By the end of the visit, Nikki was convinced she’d all but disappeared from view.

He tucked a knitted scarf into his back pocket as they left the building and then turned to her. “Can we stop at the trading post? I need to pick up some clothes.”

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