Another shot sounded. She wondered grimly if it really was farther away or if that was wishful thinking on her part. Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs. The sun was brutal overhead. Sweat snaked rivulets down her skin. The incline was getting steeper as she neared her vehicle. She hadn’t realized how sharp the slope was when she’d descended it. She’d been too intent on capturing the primitive beauty of the sandstone cliffs.

As another shot rang out, she found herself wondering if that primitive beauty was going to turn into her death trap.

The pounding of her heart sounded in her ears. Although her thighs ached with exertion, she took the incline at top speed. Finally the vehicle loomed large and comfortingly solid before her. Yanking open the front door she dived inside, keeping her head low, then pulled the door shut behind her. When she started the vehicle the noise of the engine was the most reassuring thing she’d ever heard.

Delaney threw the Jeep into reverse and drove it straight backward, away from the shooter. Away from the cliffs that concealed him. Then she did a Y-turn and headed back to the main road at a speed that was probably not totally safe.

But it was far, far safer than what awaited her back at the cliffs.

“Are we ready for a warrant?” Navajo Tribal Police Captain Jim Tapahe tapped the edge of his pen against the mound of paperwork on his desk. Though Joe saw the man diligently plowing through paperwork day after day, the pile was as much a permanent fixture of the office as the row of battered filing cabinets lining one wall.

“Karen Nez came through for us,” Joe replied. “The buy went down exactly where she said it would and we got the pictures.” Arnie rose, handed the small bundle of photos to the captain, who began flipping through them.

“And she’ll testify that Quintero is her supplier?”

Joe hesitated long enough to have the captain glancing up at him. “She says she will. But she’s scared. I can’t guarantee that she won’t change her mind if someone gets to her.”