Chapter 11
Dylan shifted the package from one hand to the other and smiled to himself. He’d never expected to buy a present like the one he had in his bag, but then he’d never been in love with a goat herder, either. His grin widened as he recognized his acknowledgment. He was in love with Nikki Hill.
He frowned as he approached the truck. He’d been gone longer than he’d anticipated and expected her to be waiting for him. But the truck was empty, as was its bed of the bags of groceries he’d expected to find. As he approached the driver’s side he saw a flash of white on the windshield. Plucking it off he read, then bit off a curse and headed into the trading post.
He didn’t bother to hide his irritation and sprayed the few passersby with dirt as he pulled out of the parking spot. On the way to the police department he dialed Hank. “They’ve arrested her.”
“What?”
He filled his boss in and requested some legal advice. “I need it as soon as you’ve got it, Hank. She can’t stay in there.”
“You’ve got it. I’ll call you back.”
Uncaring of the expensive piece of equipment, Dylan tossed the phone onto the seat beside him and focused on getting to Nikki as soon as he could.
When he got to the station, she was sitting calmly at the young police officer”s desk, a cold soda at her side. At his abrupt entrance, Nikki looked up at Dylan and smiled. “It’s okay.”
“Okay?” He sputtered then sank onto a seat near her. “You’re okay.”
“I am. Are you?” She eyed him closely.
“Not sure. I guess. Maybe.” He reached over and got the soda, taking a long draft before setting the can back on the desk. “It’s not what I was expecting, Nikki.”
“Me neither,” she said.
“Have they read you your rights? Given you the charges?”
She shook her head. “Officer Phillips said he wasn’t going to do it. The prosecutor had to.” She shrugged. “I think I know his aunt. She was the lady who called me this afternoon, about the goat’s milk products.”
“The lady who promised to keep buying your stuff?” At her nod, he relaxed a bit. “Okay. So we have a little time.”
She looked around the police station. Desks, phones, and computers abounded. But there was only one clerk and Officer Phillips in the outer room, indicating the busyness of the crew. “I feel like I’m in a dream right now.”
“Not a nightmare?” he asked, scooting closer to her.
“Not yet. If I have to stay in a cell, it might turn that way.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said and glanced up as Officer Phillips stepped forward.
“Captain Wallace is coming in,” he said, relief in his voice.
“Thanks,” Dylan said and then leveled a hard glance at the young man. “What are the charges, Officer?”
“I can’t—”
“You know them, or you wouldn’t have been sent out to arrest Nikki.” At the guy’s wince Dylan went on, somewhat mollified that the kid didn’t like his job right now. “You may not have given her her rights or pressed charges, but can she leave right now?” The kid shook his head, a panicked look crossing his face. “Then, you’re arresting her. What are the charges?”
“Aiding and abetting an illegal act, crossing into federal lands without a permit and interfering with law enforcement.”
Dylan took in the counts with a sinking feeling. Some of the charges would surely be federal. How would they fight them, along with the threats against Nikki?
The prosecutor and Captain Wallace arrived within seconds of each other and Nikki stood to face them, Dylan at her side. She listened to the charges and signed the statement before facing her accusers. “Am I going to the cell now?”
Captain Wallace glared at the prosecutor before saying, “No. You are not. You’re going to be released on your recognizance. Don’t leave the state, don’t try to evade. We’ll give you a court date to appear to answer the charges.”
The prosecutor, a woman in what had to be a very uncomfortable jacket and straight skirt, glared back at the captain. “I think with the extent of the charges—”
“This woman hasn’t had a parking or speeding ticket to her name. I’m not putting her in a jail alongside guys in a drunk tank. If you have any objections take them up with the Judge. He’ll be in town next week.”
With that, he turned his back on the lawyer and smiled at Nikki. “Sorry. You go ahead on home. I’ll be in touch regarding the court date.”
As she walked somewhat unsteadily for the door, Nikki reached for Dylan’s hand. He enfolded hers with his and squeezed it. “You okay?”
She nodded then stopped. “I didn’t get groceries. I was going to go to Douglas.”
He waved it off. “We’ll run back into town and get them now.”
“Now?” she said, thinking of how she’d be greeted after her arrest.
“Now.”
They both felt the stares as they walked the aisles, gathering chips, lunchmeat, and bread. When Dylan stopped at the ice cream freezer, Nikki said, “It’ll thaw before we can get home.”
He opened the freezer door and pulled out two pints, one chocolate and one vanilla. “We’ll eat it on the way.”
She smiled and then turned to see Mark Williams frowning at her. Pasting on her “bless you” smile, she greeted him. “Hot today, isn’t it?”
He nodded curtly and turned away. Nikki took a breath and started down another aisle. “If we’re eating ice cream, we need spoons.”
They gotthe groceries unloaded and the animals fed for the evening before Hank returned Dylan’s call. As Nikki looked on he made notes, nodded, grimaced, and finally grinned. “Gotcha. Thanks, Hank.”
Before he could hang up, though, Hank had more news. Dylan, who’d stood, sank into the seat again, his face grim. “You sure? Yeah. I gotcha. I’ll check in later.”
By now, Nikki realized the last sentence was an indication that he’d be calling for more news when he was away from her. She sat at the table across from him and waited. When he fiddled with the pen, making doodles around his notes she pressed. “Tell me.”
He glanced up. “Oh. Hank has a friend who’s a lawyer familiar with immigration law. Seems there are some mixed decisions on what they call aiding and abetting, particularly on your own land. Even some of the public land officials are putting out beacons for people to activate if they’re in trouble, no matter what nationality they are. It’s the federal land issue that is in question. Is your land part of any federal or public lands?”
She shook her head. “No. The desert has some regulations attached to it but it’s not federal or public land. The closest is the National Forest and that’s way to the north of me.”
He grinned a little, “Then I think we’re good. The lawyer has agreed to be here at the hearing.”
“I can’t afford—” she began only to stop at his look. “Thanks.”
He nodded and folded the sheet of paper and stuck it in his pants pocket. When he started to rise she stopped him. “What else?”
“Hmm?” he said.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Dylan. You’d jotted all that down on the paper and was about to hang up when Hank said something else. Something that has bothered you and that you don’t want to share with me. What?”
He firmed his mouth into a hard line and looked away then back at her. “Hank’s had some guys nosing around on the internet, seeing if they hear anything about militias or groups that are more extreme about illegal aliens crossing over. There’s chatter about something happening in the bootheel.”
“The bootheel region can be in any number of states. Kansas, Arizona—”
“The bootheel region of New Mexico.”
“Oh.” Her home region, in other words. She was practically in the sole of the bootheel. The prime area for protests and activities. “What is the gossip or chatter?”
“There is regular patrolling by some groups along the border. They generally ride along the border, flashing lights, and so on.”
She nodded. She’d seen evidence of the patrols on her weekly excursions. “Scare tactics.”
He nodded. “They want to send a more serious message. They’re planning on more aggressive activities this time.”
She took a breath. “Is there a time for this activity?”
He shook his head. “No. But Hank also said they may visit some of the more compassionate people in the region while they’re at it.”
“Meaning me,” she said.
“Meaning you.”