"Nothing original."His voice was a dry whisper."Questions.Fists.More questions."He tried to shift position and winced."I didn't tell them anything.They kept asking what I saw, what I knew.I told them I didn't see a damn thing."
"We need to get you to a hospital."
"No."His hand caught her wrist with surprising strength."No hospitals.Not yet.They'll be watching.I don't know who we can trust."
Kari's jaw tightened.She wanted to argue, wanted to insist that his injuries needed attention.But she could see the fear beneath his exhaustion, the genuine terror of a man who had spent three days at the mercy of people who operated above the law.
"Okay," she said."Okay, no hospital.But I'm calling Paul.He can help us figure out our next move."
Ben hesitated, then nodded."Daniels.Yeah.He's...he's probably safe."
Kari pulled out her phone and dialed.Paul answered on the second ring, his voice alert despite the late hour.
"Kari?What's wrong?"
"I found Ben.He's alive, but he's hurt.Someone took him, Paul.Someone held him for three days and interrogated him about what he knew."
A long pause.When Paul spoke again, his voice was carefully controlled."Where are you?"
"The ridge overlook, east of the old Yazzie trading post.Do you know it?"
"I can find it.I'm on my way."Another pause."Kari.Don't move him any more than you have to.And don't call anyone else.Not dispatch, not the station, no one.You understand?"
"I understand."
She ended the call and turned back to Ben.He had closed his eyes, his breathing shallow but steady.She found a blanket in the back of her Jeep and draped it over him, then sat down beside him, her shoulder touching his, letting him know she was there.
"You're safe now," she said quietly."I've got you."
Ben didn't open his eyes, but his hand found hers in the darkness and held on.
CHAPTER THREE
The first thing Ben Tsosie became aware of was the pain.
It started at the base of his skull, a throbbing ache that pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and radiated outward until his entire head felt like a bruise.He tried to lift his hand to touch the source of the pain and discovered that he couldn't move his arms.Something was holding them behind his back.
Rope, from the rough texture against his wrists.Tight enough to bite into his skin every time he shifted.
He kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, an old trick from his training days.When you wake up in an unfamiliar situation, gather information before revealing that you're conscious.Listen.Smell.Feel.Build a picture of your environment before your captors know you're aware.
The air smelled like dust and motor oil and something else—old wood, maybe, or rusted metal.The surface beneath him was hard and cold, concrete or packed earth.He could hear the faint hum of electricity somewhere nearby, and beyond that, voices.Two men, maybe three, speaking in low tones that he couldn't quite make out.
Ben let himself remember.He'd been at the fence line, the boundary of Devco's property, looking for a way in that wouldn't trigger the obvious security measures.He'd found a gap, a section where the chain-link had been damaged and hastily repaired.He'd slipped through, moved carefully across the darkened landscape, and then—
Nothing.A blow from behind, probably.
He'd been made.That was the only explanation.They'd been watching, ready for him to try something like that.
And now he was paying for it.
The voices grew louder, closer.Ben kept his breathing slow and even, resisting the urge to tense up as footsteps approached.
"Still out."A man's voice, flat and uninterested."Hit him pretty hard.Probably got a concussion at the very least."
"He's breathing fine.He'll wake up when he wakes up."A second voice, this one carrying a hint of authority."Just make sure he's secure.Last thing we need is a cop on the loose."
"What are we supposed to do with him?We can't just keep him here forever."
