Chapter 4
The state police were about as helpful as Nikki had predicted but Dylan insisted on a paper trail. Of what? She wasn’t sure. When she asked, he said, “You’ve been shot at and now the goat. These are as threatening as things come short of bodily injury, Nikki. We need to make sure the authorities know about the situation. Especially if I’m going to become involved.”
“But you’re only here to fix the window, then you’re leaving.”
He studied her until she felt her face redden. “I don’t have the funds to hire a security expert, Dylan. Though I appreciate you being here today, I think it’s a good idea for me to take this from here.”
When he didn’t answer her, she glanced up to meet his gaze. Understanding, compassion, and something more greeted her.
“I’m here for the duration, Nikki. And I’ve talked to my boss. We’re okay regarding the fees.”
“How is that possible?” She asked, her mind whirling. “I got online for a little bit this morning before you knocked. I may not know exactly how much your organization charges for security experts but I do know it’s not so little that you can afford to give it away.”
“Hank has the final say about the finances, Nikki. I’m just the grunt of the operation.”
The police officer interrupted them with another comment and the argument was tabled. She had to admit she was relieved that Dylan would be on hand for the next few days, even if she’d never be able to repay his kindness.
After the police left, without doing any real evidence gathering, Dylan instructed Nikki in the basics of looking for tracks, checking the locks and entrance to the goat house, and walking the perimeter of the house. Dylan had insisted that the police do a dusting for fingerprints on the door fixtures of the goat enclosure but the officer turned green when a suggestion was made that he take the head with him. Dylan finally examined the cuts that had severed the head from the body and then gravely buried it for Nikki, making sure to secure the grave with several large stones to prevent predators from digging. When Nikki wondered again at the absence of the rest of the goat, he replied, “Probably got taken in the night by something. I’m kind of surprised the head wasn’t removed.”
She nodded then headed to the house and a shower she technically didn’t need, but she felt dirty. She excused herself, telling him to feel free to make some toast or cereal, then escaped for a cry and the cleansing power of hot water and soap.
Upon entering the living room, Nikki was surprised to see the plywood taken from the window and Dylan hard at work loosening the old window frame. He glanced at her and she wondered if her eyes were red from crying and if he’d ridicule her for tears over a ranch animal. Instead, he ignored any sign and gestured at the window. “I thought I’d get started on this. It might take all day. I’m not that great at construction.”
“Me neither, but maybe together we’ll get it done.” She approached the window and stared up at him as he applied a battery-operated driver to remove screws in the large frame. “Should I hold something?”
“Sure,” he gestured at the window. “Hold onto this as I loosen the screws. With any luck all we’ll have to do is take one frame out and put the other in.”
Several hours later, they both flopped onto the leather sofa in the middle of the room and leaned back, glasses of iced water in their hands. “I didn’t think we were going to get the second window in for a minute,” Nikki said and glanced over her shoulder at the window, slightly smudged from her sweaty hands and with the manufacturer’s sticker still on the glass.
“Me neither. I guess the house settled a little. But that video helped. Good thinking on finding it.”
“Lucky we had internet at that moment,” she said and sipped her water.
“About that. Do you mind if I contact the satellite company and start service for you?” He took a long drink of his own and she watched him swallow the liquid with far too much pleasure.
“I suppose not. I need it, now more than ever,” she admitted and turned the glass, wet with sweat from the cold water, in her hands.
When he didn’t reply she looked at him. “I realize someone is trying to scare me, but why? Because I take water to people in the desert? That doesn’t seem to be a good enough reason.”
He shrugged then took another sip before leaning back against the back of the couch and resting his head on the cushion. “I’ve seen people do violent things for much less. But it may not be because of your charitable work. Do you have anyone angry at you about the ranch? Your other work?”
She snorted a laugh. “My ranch barely keeps me above water. I’m not competition to anyone. And as for my other “work” as you call it, it’s barely more than a hobby right now. I use the profits from the soaps and lotions to buy more supplies and occasionally pay a bill. It’s really something to keep me busy in the down times.”
“If you don’t know of anything, there’s two possibilities,” he said. At her blank look he continued, “It’s the desert thing or something we don’t know about.”
She sighed. “That’s what worries me. That I’m in the dark about something.”
“You never answered me about Wayne,” he said, his gaze on her.
“I told you last night,” she insisted, “He’s into cattle, not goats. He’s razed all of the old pecan groves that were on his property and he has a huge pepper crop every year.”
She stood, her glass in her hand, and then reached for his. “As far as the scare tactics, Wayne isn’t a suspect. We need to look somewhere else.” She took the glasses into the kitchen, effectively putting an end to the conversation.
Dylan waited until Nikki returned to the living room with a bottle of window cleaner. He watched as she cleaned both the inside and outside of the large windows then shoved the sofa back in front of the glass. He’d bet she wouldn’t be sitting there, with her back to the window, for a while. At least not while he was there, he’d make sure of it.
When she was finished, he broached another sensitive subject. “What if it’s the desert water outings?”
She laid her cleaner and paper towel on a table then straightened. “I don’t hurt anyone with my outings.”
“You don’t, I agree. But for some people, it’s a signal to the migrants, or illegals, in their minds, that crossing the border is okay. In some people’s minds, you’re encouraging the act.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, her exasperation plain in her tone. “My property is in the States. The migrants have already crossed the border. I’m only putting water out for people who are already across.”
He shrugged, “In other words, your acts of kindness keep people alive.”
“Yes.”
“And able to report back to their relatives and friends that someone in the states gives them enough supplies to get a little farther north.”
She huffed. “I’m not giving them money. I’m not even giving them food. I’m only giving them water so they don’t die in the middle of the night on my land.”
“And if the desert water outings are the reason for the threats and the scare tactics? Will you stop?”
“No.”
“Even if your health and safety is at risk?” His temper was rising. Didn’t she see that she was too precious to take that chance?
“No.” Her expression appeared to be that of a child, determined to stand her ground in the face of the schoolyard bully and for a split second, Dylan felt bad for pushing the issue.
“Someone else will do it, Nikki. If you make some calls someone else will take water to the desert.”
“Maybe. But what if they don’t?” She took a deep breath then stepped toward him. “Dylan, my faith tells me to love my neighbor, to feed him, to give him drink and clothing when he needs it. And to do it without any expectation of return. If I stop doing this, I’ll be failing my faith.”
“But it’s becoming more dangerous,” he asserted and she nodded.
“And it’s a chance I need to take.”
“When are you going out again?”
“Tomorrow night,” she replied.
“Then I’m going with you.”