Dance of the Bones

“Okay,” he muttered. She left, and he allowed himself a few moments of gratitude. At least she hadn’t taken his Xbox away, and she hadn’t made him go shopping with her, either. It was bad enough that he’d had to go camping with Lani. If the kids from school saw his mother dragging him around the grocery store on Saturday morning, he’d never hear the end of it.

After his mom left, Gabe kept right on playing. Some time had passed—-he wasn’t sure how much—-when someone knocked on the bedroom door. He was going for a really high score. Thinking the visitor was most likely Tim, Gabe called for him to come in.

A moment later Henry Rojas appeared in the doorway. Gabe knew Henry. He was one of the Shadow Wolves who worked with Dan Pardee. Henry’s wife was a nurse at the hospital, and they lived in one of the units at the hospital compound, but as far as Gabe knew, Henry wasn’t a good friend of either one of his parents. Among the Tohono O’odham, only relatives and very close friends ever ventured inside someone else’s home and, even then, not without an express invitation.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I was talking to your friend Tim José,” Henry said. “He’s in some trouble and asked me to come pick you up and take you to him. Oh, and he wants you to bring along the package he left for you last night.”

Gabe tried playing dumb. “What package?”

“You know which package,” Henry said. “Now get it and come on. There’s not much time.”

“I’m grounded,” Gabe said. “My mom says I’m not allowed to go anywhere.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what your mom wants. Get the damned peanut butter and come on!” Henry’s hand went to the grip of the pistol he wore on his hip. “I have a gun and I’m prepared to use it. Get moving.”

And so Gabe moved, stumbling toward the dresser and pulling open the drawer like a bumbling sleepwalker. He reached for the peanut butter jar, leaving the bag and the note behind. As his fingers closed around the plastic jar, he knew two things with sickening clarity. One, his best friend was in trouble, maybe even dead. And two, Henry Rojas, the man who stood blocking the doorway? He was clearly one of the Bad -People—-PaDaj O’odham—-the very ones Lani had been trying to warn Gabe about. She had thought the José brothers were bad somehow, but Gabe understood that this man—-dressed in his uniform, wearing a badge, and carrying a weapon on his hip—-was someone truly evil.

With the jar in one hand and leaving the drawer partly open, Gabe straightened up and turned to face the intruder. Henry Rojas had yet to move. He stood there, still as can be, blocking the doorway.

“What happened to Tim?” Gabe asked.

“Believe me,” Rojas said, “you’ll know soon enough. Now move.”

As Gabe walked past, Henry leaned toward him. “Walk straight,” he ordered. “Don’t do anything out of line. I’ve got my Taser right here.”

It was only when Gabe looked at the Taser that he realized the man was wearing gloves—-surgical gloves. Henry had no intention of leaving any fingerprints behind.

As they stepped outside, there was no one around. It was a quiet Saturday morning. The other houses in the Ortiz compound seemed deserted. No children played kickball in the dirt outside. If women were inside neighboring houses doing chores or washing dishes, there was no sign of them, either. A block or so away, he saw -people over by his dad’s garage, but none of them was close enough for Gabe to call for help.

Henry marched him over to the passenger side of a truck that was parked just outside—-a black Chevrolet with a camper shell on it. It wasn’t the Border Patrol vehicle Henry drove when he was on duty. This was private.

Henry opened the door to the cab. “Get in,” he ordered.

Gabe tried to twist away, but Henry grabbed his neck in a viselike grip and shoved him headfirst into the cab. Then, before Gabe could right himself, a jolt of electricity from a stun gun shot through his body. When he came to, a second or so later, Henry was removing a hypodermic needle from Gabe’s bare arm.