Navajo Echoes

She glanced toward the tropical forest. “Shouldn’t we be hearing an ambulance siren?”

“It’s possible. Cuerva has a hospital and a few neighborhood clinics.”

“How do you know that?”

“I studied up on the island. Memorized the topography and the major landmarks.”

That was so like him. John was, by nature, a planner who prepared for every contingency. He’d probably made mental notes on what to do in case of a plane crash. “What’s our current location?”

“We’re on the far side of the island. Away from the hotels and the town. Cuerva is only about four miles wide, but there’s a high bluff running down the center like a backbone. I doubt anybody saw our plane go down.”

“So there probably won’t be an ambulance?”

He frowned. “Do you need a doctor?”

The clanging inside her head had already subsided to a small tinkling bell. The worst part of the crash had been the panic, the shattering certainty that she was going to die. But here she was, alive and kicking. “I’ll be all right.”

“Then let’s get moving.” He stood up straight and glanced over his shoulder toward Edgar. “We should assess the damage.”

Following him, she marched clumsily across the beach. The wet soles of her sandals slapped with each step. Even with the ankle straps, it was amazing that they’d stayed on her feet.

He pointed to two soggy pieces of luggage. “I could only save our carry-on bags.”

Swell. Things just kept getting worse. “Most of my clothes were in the bigger bag.”

“They’re gone.”

She was going to miss that yellow sundress she’d bought especially for this trip. And her favorite running shoes. “It’s a good thing that you grabbed the carry-on. My wallet and passport are in there.”

“And the Glock.”

She remembered tucking the weapon into her bag before the crash. “Do you still have your gun?”

He tapped his ankle holster. “It got in the way when I was swimming, but I’m glad to be armed.”

As soon as they got to the hotel, she needed to check and clean their weapons. A dip in salt water couldn’t be good for the firing mechanism. “We can always buy new clothes. It doesn’t seem like anything important was lost.”

He shot her a dark, disbelieving glare. “We’ve lost the computer, the satellite phone and all the other electronics I brought along.”

Lily shrugged. She had little use for gadgetry. “I guess we’ll have to rely on our natural instincts.”

“Instinct won’t provide a secure phone line for contacting Evangeline.”

And, of course, the computer would have been handy for researching the island and doing background checks on potential suspects. “Maybe Edgar can help us out.”

She looked toward the surf where Edgar stood watching as the tail section disappeared under the waves. All that was left of Martina the Cessna was the chunk of wing they used to get to shore.

He straightened his shoulders, made a sharp pivot and walked back toward them. “Rather an inauspicious start to your assignment. Have you reconsidered your plans?”

“For now,” John said, “we’ll proceed to the hotel and act as if nothing unusual happened. We won’t report the plane crash.”

“What?” she questioned. Not tell anybody? “That isn’t even legal.”

“I don’t want to attract undue attention. We’ll stick to the original plan, go to the hotel and check in.”

“Very well,” Edgar said as he gestured toward the forest. “Shall we locate transportation?”

“Wait a minute.” Lily wasn’t sure that she liked this plan. At the very least, John should have discussed it with her. “Somebody tried to kill us.”

“And failed,” John said.

“Well, it doesn’t seem smart to pretend it didn’t happen. Even if we don’t report the sabotage, maybe we should go into hiding. Did you think of that?”

“I did,” John said. “And I rejected the idea.”

“Why?”

“Number one,” he said as he held up a forefinger.

Lily groaned. “It’s really annoying when you do the logic thing. The number one and two. Part A and Part B.”

“Number one,” he repeated, “this is a small island and we’re obviously outsiders. We can’t blend in.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m good at disguises.”

“Number two, if we’re a visible presence, we might smoke out our attacker. Next time, we’ll be ready for him.”

That made a certain amount of sense. She and John were both well-trained and able to defend themselves. Still, she said, “If the bad guys think we’re dead, we could use that to our advantage.”

“Until we’re discovered,” he said. “Then what? We have no authority on this island. We can’t arrest anybody.”

“All right,” she conceded. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Number three, we meet with Robert tonight. Then we can get this assignment planned down to the last detail.”

Of course, that was what he really wanted. A detailed plan. Very rational. Very logical. She hated when John made sense.

BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE Grand Cuerva Hotel, night had fallen. John tipped the bellman with a damp five-dollar bill and escorted Lily into the elevator, then headed to their prebooked suite on the top floor—the sixth. The Grand Cuerva wasn’t the biggest hotel on the island nor the best. Obviously.

The “honeymoon” decor looked like Valentine’s Day gone terribly wrong. The king-sized, canopy bed was draped in filmy red sheers that matched the curtains across the sliding doors to the balcony. Hearts loomed everywhere. A heart-shaped mirror over the dresser. Little heart vases. A red glass candy dish filled with—of course—hearts. There was even a red, heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub in the corner by the windows.

Lily stood in the center of the room, glaring. “There’s only one bed.”

“Honeymoon suite.”

“We’re not sleeping together. I want my own room.”

Though the thought of seducing her had crossed his mind a few thousand times, he had no intention of acting on that desire. Still, he couldn’t help teasing, “But we’re supposed to be lovers.”