Redemption FinalWPF6 7 (13 page)

As Uriah moved toward Joe, the rifle swung upward. He had
only an instant as the barrel settled underneath the other man's chin. Uriah
leaped and grabbed for the gun. Wrapping his hand around the trigger guard, he
clamped Joe’s hand in place before he could pull the trigger. He held on to the
barrel of the rifle with the other hand, trying to push it to the side, to
prevent either of them from getting hurt. They were as close together as
lovers, struggling in a deadly, silent dance.

Crrraaaack
.

The world exploded. He felt the impact of the shot against
his chest, and the two men fell to the ground, covered in blood.

****

The sound of the shot as it reverberated around the canyon
brought Gabe to his feet and moving cautiously to the mouth of the cave. When
Diane tried to race in front of him he shoved her roughly out of the way. “Get
back.”

“Uriah! Oh God— what if something happened to Uriah?”

Gabe ignored her and looked to the top of the cliff, toward
the site they’d agreed was the most likely spot for their assailant to have
hidden. He squinted into the sun but it was too far away to make out any
details. They couldn't go out, they had no cell service. Now it was a waiting
game. It might only be a mile as the bullet flied but it was a hell of a lot
farther on foot. It would take Uriah at least four hours to hike back around to
access their remote campsite. All he could do now was try to offer Dee the comfort
that they both needed.

“We have to trust him, Diane. We have to trust that
everything's okay.”

“I never told him. I never told either of you that I love
you,” she said softly crying around her words.

Gabe wrapped her up in his arms and lowered them both to the
floor of the cave, to resume his position against the wall. He buried his face
in her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “He knows, sweetheart.
We both know.”

****

The continuous pounding of the Colorado River faded into the
background, a low rumbling always present and somehow unnoticeable for its
constancy. He knew they wouldn’t likely hear him over the rush of water, but he
needed a little more space than his morning alone had provided. He needed to
wash off the blood.

Uriah slipped into the small pool of water, gasping at the
cold against his overheated skin. He rubbed at the dried blood and gore. When
it didn't wash off with a simple swipe of his hand, Uriah rubbed harder. Closing
his eyes, he could still see the condors circling Joe’s body, knew that despite
the steps he’d taken, the man he'd left behind was now carrion, and nature
would have her way. In a moment of bizarre clarity, he worried whether Joe
remembered not to use lead ammo, a definite hazard to the health of the
endangered species of bird. When the reality of his thoughts spilled over,
Uriah crawled swiftly to his knees and wretched until there was nothing left.

He knelt on the sand, back hunched, his forehead resting on
his folded arms. He swallowed hard against the wave of emotion that threatened
to pull him under.

Over the last couple of days they become so used to the
sound of the Colorado River he almost didn't notice the other noise. The steady
whooping wasn't the same as the rush of water, and as it got louder, he
recognized the sound for what it was. A helicopter was making its way toward
their clearing. From the corner of his eye he saw Gabe and Diane crawl out of
their cave. He turned his head to meet their looks, and watched as Diane’s
expression went from panic to fury as Gabe gripped her around the waist and
prevented her from running to the clearing where the helicopter was landing.
Gabe was talking, pointing to the helicopter, and he felt relief wash over him.
Gabe wasn’t rejecting Uriah, he was keeping their woman safe.

Uriah made a move to head toward them when the door to the
helicopter opened and four law enforcement rangers jumped out, armed with
rifles, and all pointing in his direction.

Chapter Twelve

Uriah had spent his lifetime on the right side of the law,
never even going on the outings to the jail when his dad dragged his brother along.
Still, as an attorney’s kid and years of watching more than a few cop shows on
TV, he knew he was in big trouble. He’d been photographed, fingerprinted, and
read his Miranda rights before they locked him in a tiny cell that didn’t even
have a toilet. He understood the implication. Obviously, prisoners would be
transferred to another facility in Flagstaff shortly after their arrest. He
wondered how long he had. Unless maybe Gabe and Diane…he let the useless
thought fall away and instead shifted to planning his one phone call when he
had the chance.
Hello, Dad…

There was a commotion outside, car doors opened and closed,
voices raised in greeting and farewell, and he figured the transportation for
his trip to the county jail had arrived.

The door opened and Gabe’s friend Patti walked in and
dismissed the other ranger with a nod of her head. Fifteen steps later, she’d
crossed the length of the small room that served as main office, public area,
and central booking. He warily eyed the redheaded ranger.

“Put your hands out,” she ordered, indicating the
rectangular opening in the bars. She quickly refastened the cuffs, then led him
to a World War II era steel gray table and ordered him to sit.

He winced as his hands bumped against the edge of the desk.
Patti leaned back, and looked at him a long moment, as if she could sense his
guilt or innocence by virtue of some kind of x-ray vision. Nervous laughter
threatened to escape, so he cleared his throat instead. He held his cuffed
wrists up. “Any chance we can take these off?”

“No.” She didn’t even crack a smile. After reading his rights
a second time, verifying his name and address, she started right in with the
questioning. As questions went, she handed him the whole length of rope. He
knew she was going to let him tell it his way first so she could pick it apart
any way she wanted. Well, he would give nothing but the truth. He had nothing
to hide, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Diane and I hiked. We arrived. Someone shot at us. Not much
more to say about that. Then Gabe found us and he taped up my head.”

All conversation stopped while Patti examined his injury and
took pictures with the digital camera. When she sat again, he continued.

“We couldn’t stay tucked into the cave forever, one of us
had to see if the gunman was still there. Gabe had looked around a bit the
first day. We used his information and the topo hiking maps to determine the
most likely place the gunmen had to be in order to shoot at us. You know the
terrain. There's not very many places to hide. Everything to the west is flat
and the gunman wouldn't have had the angle to take the first shot. That meant
it had to be east, a high spot that was closer than a mile in order to have an
accurate shot, with a large enough rock formation to hide behind. I knew right
where we were looking.” He started to run his hand through his hair, but
stopped at the jangle of cuffs. Blowing out a breath, he continued.

“I left before sunrise and circled back around in order to
get to the section of cliff where we knew he would have been that first
afternoon. I found him there. Joe Yazzi. I found him.”

“Are you saying Mr. Yazzi was dead when you found him?”

“God, no.” He looked toward the door as his throat
tightened. Absently, he played with the chain on his handcuffs. He swallowed a
deep breath and went on. “You already know we were here to spread my brother’s
ashes. Joe thought I was my brother, he thought I was Pete.”

Patti didn't say anything, just sat there, cop-faced,
listening.

“We talked. For little while. When I convinced him that I
wasn't Pete, he moved the gun away from me and pointed it under his chin. I
tried to stop him. We fought for the gun. It went off. There was nothing I
could do. Nothing.” Uriah wanted to fall apart. The memory of the blood, of the
run back to the site…

“Okay, he shot himself. Then what did you do?”

Her businesslike tone helped him hold it together. He
swallowed hard, and continued. “Gabe made me bring my cell phone along, just in
case we could find a signal anywhere along the trail. He said reception was unlikely
as far as we were from the village, but sometimes you could find a spot. The
roaming indicator was flashing, but the call kept timing out before it would go
through. I sent the text instead, hoping it would get through, eventually. I
took off my shirt and covered… Joe's—”

He shook his head as if he could erase the image seared into
his brain. “I headed back to Diane. To let them know I was okay, and that it
was over. That we could hike back.”

“But you didn't see them right away; instead you went to
wash in the river.”

“What the hell do you think? I was covered in blood and
brain and—Fuck—” His throat worked as he fought back another wave of nausea.

“Okay let’s go over this again…”

****

Gabe waited in line for his chance to check into the small
bungalow his friend Nan had been able to arrange for him, despite the late
notice. The lobby of the Bright Angel Lodge was crowded with tourists, and
French, Japanese, and German mixed with English to create a symphony of
excitement. Diane stood across the room, near the stunning fireplace designed by
the famous Southwest architect Mary Coulter, but he knew the beauty of the piece
was lost to her at the moment. With her arms wrapped tightly around her own
waist, she chewed on her bottom lip and watched all the people as if she was
looking for someone to help her. He just didn't have a lot to offer at the
moment.

He was so fucking pissed at Patti that he couldn't see
straight. It was painfully obvious that Uriah hadn't done anything, yet she
wouldn't let them speak on Uriah's behalf. Instead, they'd been kept separated
on the helicopter ride back to the rim and as soon as they landed, an official
government vehicle had whisked the handcuffed Uriah away. And goddamn Patti had
gone with them. She hadn't given Gabe a chance to explain anything. There were
just only so many things that a man could take. He knew his friend Michael Enwright
had the connections to find out exactly what was going on. Gabe would send
Diane ahead to the room to wait for the rangers who would be returning soon to
take their witness statement while he made a few phone calls.

He finished filling out the registration card and turned to find
Diane and tell her the plan when the roller coaster day took another dip. Melody
was standing there talking earnestly and from the look on Diane's face she
didn't like what she was hearing. Mel must have seen them walk in together. He
glanced over toward the open door of the lounge. Cocktail hour…of course Mel
would have been here.

Moving swiftly across the lobby, he grabbed Melody by the
forearm, her surprised expression quickly replaced by a narrow-eyed, falsely
innocent smile. There were so many things he wanted to say but this was neither
the time nor the place. He kept his message succinct. “Go away.”

“Gabe. I was just talking with your friend here. I guess
this means you're not coming back to our house—” She broke off with a little
squeak when he squeezed her arm.

“Gabe.” Diane said in a shocked voice. “Let go, you're going
to hurt her.”

“Oh, that's nothing new, is it Gabe? It wouldn’t be the
first time. He’s a mean drunk. Sometimes he didn’t even remember hitting me
when he’d been drinking. But I thought it was going to get better, that he was
really going to try this time…you promised, Gabe. ” Then the lying bitch
squeezed out a tear and managed to make her lips tremble.

Diane’s shocked gasp made him turn his head, but it was the
look on her face, the one that said
I believe her,
that had him letting
go of Mel’s arm. Without a word to either woman, he handed Diane the room key
and walked away.

****

“Should've known I'd find you in here,” Patti said. “Why
aren’t you celebrating with Uriah and Diane?”

Gabe tossed back another shot of whisky, and followed it with
a couple of swallows of beer. He was well on his way to being flat-out drunk
and he didn't give a shit. After all, he had a designated driver. He looked
down at his wrist only to discover he no longer wore his watch. Didn't matter.
The guys would be here soon. Max and Marcus never let him down. Patti’s words
sank in.

“I thought Uriah was with you. Or…I guess it would have been
the county jail, by now.”

“No. His story checked out. We had to do our jobs, Gabe. We
had a dead body. We had evidence that at least one other person had been at the
scene of the death. We had to investigate. Because you and I are friends, I
kept it by the book. And yeah…I know you’re going to be fucking pissed at me
tomorrow. 

“You didn’t answer my question though. Why are you sitting
in here drinking instead of backing your room celebrating with the lovely Diane
and Uriah?”

“That's not gonna happen. You were right. Hooking up with
those two was a bad idea all around.”

“Is that what you really think, Gabe? That making love with
us was a bad idea?” Diane asked. Her voice was tight, full of hurt. Once again,
she’d managed to come up behind him without him noticing. Gabe briefly closed
his eyes and prayed for the strength to do the right thing. Then he met Diane’s
gaze in the mirror mounted behind the bar and the moment stretched like a
tightrope.

“Uriah needs you,” she whispered, unshed tears threatening
to fall.

Gabe broke away before he said something they would all
regret and begged for her forgiveness. He knew that she couldn’t understand
right now, but someday she would. The time at the bottom of the canyon had been
magic for the three of them, but it had been a fantasy. Diane and Uriah were
made for each other and they needed to move on with their lives. Without him.
He tossed back the next shot of whisky and said the words that would close the
door forever.