Three days ago…
The name-tag on the young woman’s shirt read, Officer Nakai. She opened the door for Maggie and said, “He’s on the phone, but he’ll be done in a second.”
Maggie stepped into the small office at the back of the remote police outpost. The floor creaked beneath her feet, and the walls appeared paper-thin. Maggie took a seat in an old but sturdy-looking metal chair in front of the captain’s desk. His back was turned to her, a Stetson cowboy hat hung on a hook behind him. All she could see was his long black and gray hair pulled into a ponytail. He was speaking on the phone to someone who seemed to be a city alderman or tribal leader. Without turning around, he held up a finger to tell her it would be just one moment.
Her plan was to slow-play Canyon into a trap, but she needed to know whether the local law enforcement had been paid off or whether she could rely on them as allies. So, her first step was to introduce herself to the highest-ranking local law enforcement officer and see if he could be trusted.
Maggie was glad for the moment to survey Yazzie’s desk and the small room which he called home. The walls were mostly bare, a few pictures, a few rusty old handguns mounted to the wall. Besides the photos, there were a few American Indian artifacts and feathers. Then, among the plumage, Maggie spotted a photo that caused her to take note. It was of a young man dressed in an outfit very similar to the one worn by “X” from her mystery picture.
As her mind raced through the possibilities, she scanned the rest of the wall and noted younger photos of the woman Vasques had told her was Reyna Canyon, another of those displayed in her mystery photo.
And then, she saw a photo tucked in among the others that stopped her racing heart dead. It was a photo of a young man looking directly into the camera, a scowl on his face, and Maggie instantly knew she was no longer here investigating John Canyon.
The man with the black eyes, the real Taker, was right before her.
She was in the lion’s den, the belly of the beast. She considered going for her gun right there, but a feeling from a picture seen across the room and a memory that was a quarter of a century old wasn’t enough to condemn a man, and definitely not something that Maggie could explain to a “righteous shooting” board of inquiry.
She couldn’t be sure at all, but somehow, she knew. She considered the X on the photograph. Could that have been some nickname that Reyna had for her brother, or was that perhaps his first initial?
She scanned the desk, but all the name placard said was “Captain Yazzie.” She tried to scan the rest of the room, looking for anything that might have his name, but there were no diplomas, no awards.
She was interrupted by Yazzie hanging up the phone and standing to shake her hand. The captain wore small oval glasses that were heavily tinted and completely hid his eyes. She knew there was no medical condition that would cause a person to have jet black eyes, but the little girl in her wondered if beneath Yazzie’s glasses were a pair of black orbs that provided a view straight into the darkness of hell.
Yazzie said, “So, Agent, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Department of Justice. I don’t believe I’ve ever met one of you before. Sounds very official.”
Some part of Maggie that wasn’t scared out of her mind stood up, smiled, shook Yazzie’s hand, and said, “Actually, the Department of Justice encompasses several different agencies. I work for a think-tank known as the Shepherd Organization.”
Yazzie smiled and said, “That’s funny. We have one of the biggest sheep operations in the Southwest right here in our little town of Roanhorse.”
Maggie sat back down in her chair as Yazzie took his own. She tried to remember the story she had carefully composed when she planned to meet with the local police captain. The lies wouldn’t come to her. Her brain was completely blank, and all of her work on her cover story and her plan to manipulate the locals had been erased by fear.
She smiled and laughed nervously. “I just wanted to stop in for a moment. I don’t want to take up much of your time.”
She noticed that Yazzie still seemed to be sitting up and poised for movement. He said, “It’s no bother. What are you investigating?”
Fighting for a response, she said, “I’m not at liberty to discuss those details, but I’ll tell you this. It’s mainly down at the casino and so…it might involve employees who live in your district. I just wanted to give you the courtesy heads-up and introduce myself in case something pops up.”
She supposed that, all things considered, she had handled the improvisational cover story pretty well. All she needed to do was get the heck out of there and make a phone call that would reveal to the world the true identity of her lifelong tormentor.
Yazzie cocked his head in surprise and said, “Really? I hadn’t heard anything about any investigations at the casino. Have you spoken to all of the proper security personnel there?”
“No, it’s hush-hush, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. I’m only trusting you because you’re a fellow law enforcement officer. I don’t put much stock in private security people.”
“I know the folks over there well. They’re quite good at their jobs. I’d be happy to put you in contact.”
She smiled in response and stood. “I appreciate that, but it won’t be necessary. I’m hoping to be out of here soon anyway. I really don’t expect the need to involve them. If things pan out, I’ll be back to have a discussion with you about the resident in question, but at this point, only a courtesy call. So, I’ll just let myself out.”
She moved toward the door to his paper-thin office, and she felt him stand and step up behind her.
He said, “Whoa, little lady. I’m happy to give you insight and assistance. Why don’t you share the details of your investigation, and we can go from there?”
She replied, “I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss the details of an active investigation with non-Department of Justice personnel. I’ll be in contact soon. Thank you so much for your hospitality, Captain.”
“The pleasure was all mine, and…I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
She nodded and said, “Thanks again. It’s Agent Carlisle.”
“I meant first name. Mine is Xavier. I’ve never really liked it. A lot of people don’t know how to pronounce it.”
Her terrified mind searched frantically for a response, but all she could manage was the truth. “Maggie,” she said. “My first name is Maggie.”
She could smell gun oil and chewing tobacco on him as he winked and said, “I once knew a little girl named Maggie.” Her heart caught in her throat, and she considered whether she could actually vomit on him as a distraction for escape. She said, “Nice to meet you, Xavier. Now, if you would excuse me, I’m not feeling so well, and I’m dead tired. I’d like to get back to my hotel room.”
“By all means. I’m here when you need me.”
Maggie nodded to the young female officer on her way out. Nakai asked, “Are you okay, ma’am?”
Maggie mumbled, “Yes, thank you,” as she stepped from the tiny Navajo Nation Police outpost.
Her rental car was only ten feet away, but it seemed like a distance of miles. She fumbled with her keys as she walked toward the door. She pressed the button and dropped into the car, shutting it and locking the doors.
Her heart hammered. She couldn’t breathe. Xavier. He was the “X” from the photograph. He was the variable she had been searching for. Captain Xavier Yazzie of the Navajo Nation Police was the real Taker.
As she recalled the recent encounter, other memories that were once blurry now came into focus. She remembered seeing him at the pow-wow her family had visited, and she more vividly remembered that day and the face of the man with the black eyes.
She started the car. As she did, she pulled out her burner phone and started to call Marcus, ready to burst with the information that she had just learned and afraid that her boogeyman would be coming for her. She kept her eyes on the door to the station, but no one came out. No one perused her. Her hand reached toward the gear shift to put the car into reverse, when a knock on her window startled the phone right out of her hand.
She turned to see the smiling face of Captain Xavier Yazzie.
Her terrified mind searched for the answer of how he had gotten out of the station without her noticing. There had to have been a back door, but she hadn’t seen one. She reached out for the switch to roll down the window—as he was motioning for her to do on the other side of the glass—but her right hand strayed toward her gun. If he made any move, she was prepared to pull the weapon and fire.
Her teeth almost chattering, she awkwardly asked, “Did I forget something?”
Yazzie laughed. “No, no. I don’t think you’ve forgotten a thing. And neither have I.”
Then, with a blur of movement, she saw a tubular object appear in his hand and felt the wet spray in her face and eyes.
Her training kicking in, Maggie instantly punched out and connected with Yazzie’s chest, pushing him back from the window. She couldn’t see anything. The world was going dark. She went for her gun. She wondered what he had sprayed her with. She had been sprayed with pepper and mace in the past, but this was something different. She pulled the gun from her holster but didn’t have the strength to hold it. Just before the darkness took her, she recognized the sweet smell as sevoflurane—a potent anesthetic that Ackerman had once introduced to her.