Shadow Walker by Allyson James Read Free Book Online Page A

I called Assistant Chief Salas of the Magellan police and asked him if he would drive me to Whiteriver.
    Most people in Magellan liked Emilio Salas, and so did I. He was good at his job but not arrogant about it, and he knew everyone in town, being related to half of it. He was hung up on Maya, but by now even he knew that a relationship with her wasn’t likely. Maya loved Nash, and that was that.
    Salas drove me up in his squad car. The sun disappeared behind us as we drove south and east, the twilight clear and cold, stars pricking out in abundance.
    Whiteriver lay in the heart of Apache country, the town south of the Mogollon Rim, following the contours of the White River. Salas drove me to my cook’s daughter’s house, where Elena lived whenever she didn’t spend the night in Magellan. Elena herself answered the door.
    Elena Williams, even if she was temperamental—and yes, sometimes dangerous—cooked the best food I’d ever tasted. She’d worked in top restaurants in Manhattan and Los Angeles and could have gotten a job anywhere she wanted, but she’d come to my hotel because it was an hour’s drive from her daughter and grandchildren. Elena wasn’t the most reliable of employees, some days choosing not to show up at all, but she mostly put up with the weirdness that went on in my hotel and cooked like a dream. I would beg to keep her.
    Salas flashed Elena his most charming white-toothed smile. “Hey, chica ,” he said. “Janet scared the bad man away. Come back down and make me some of those frijoles and squash. Please? They taste like heaven.”
    Usually, Elena softened under Salas’s winning smile, but tonight, she ignored him and pointed a stiff finger at me.
    “You, Stormwalker, bring evil,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “A Shadow Walker seeks you. I see the shadows, fluttering in the night.” She stepped back. “I stay here, so they don’t get me too.”
    Before I could draw breath to ask Elena what she was talking about, she slammed the door in our bewildered faces.
    Salas could do nothing but drive me over the mountains and back to Magellan again, cook-less.

Five
     
    Mick didn’t return from his sinkhole exploration until three in the morning. I lay in bed awake, worrying about him and other things. I was minus a cook, plus I’d seen how Cassandra had shaken her head over Ted’s list before she’d left for the night. I contemplated the ceiling above my bed, while a shard of magic mirror lay on my nightstand humming. Badly.
    All in all, things had not been good for me since my visit to the Dinetah. It had been beautiful up there during my week-long vacation in Many Farms and Chinle. Cold blue skies. Peace. Beauty. My father and I had driven the land in silence, both of us soaking up the splendor as we’d always done.
    My aunts and cousins had been too busy with their kids’ school sports to criticize me much, which had been a bonus. I’d accompanied them to a basketball game and a gymkhana, sitting with my aunts and father in the bleachers to cheer on the next generation. A good visit all around. My grandmother had wanted me to stay longer and hadn’t hidden her annoyance when I said I needed to go. I wondered if she’d put a spell on me to make my life hell because I hadn’t obeyed her.
    At three I heard Mick come in the back door and down the hall. I breathed a sigh of relief. The magic mirror cut off its hum in mid–“I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair” and went strangely silent.
    Mick walked in, not looking at me, dropped his leather jacket on a chair, and sat on the edge of the bed to unzip his boots.
    “Hey,” I said.
    He didn’t respond except to pull off his boots and drop them one by one to the floor. Thud. Thud.
    I rose on my elbow. “Everything all right?”
    Mick still didn’t look at me. “Fine. Why are you awake?”
    “I was worried about you poking around in that hole. Plus worried that one of the deputies would find you out there naked