The video cassette was red and badly beaten up. The corners chipped and cracks showed in critical places. I wondered if my ancient player would handle it. It cost me a fortune, and I knew I would have to steer clear of the ranchers in this valley once I viewed its contents.

Like so much of the other evidence I collected in my search for proof of their wrongdoing, I had to consort with the enemy. Here in the high desert-like dry land there were few places to hide. I chose to do so in plain sight.

The package it arrived in, was wrapped in plain brown paper, and considering the contents, a wry chuckle erupted from my throat. Nerves I suppose, and I had to swallow them quickly when a knock sounded at my door.

"Coming. Give me a minute. You're early."

I dropped the tape into the cardboard box where I stored the rest of the archive detailing the abuse of several missing women from the Navajo reserve just on the other side of the barbed wire fence behind my tiny cabin. I was hoping more of them were still alive after the stories of blatant misconduct during their captivity surfaced.

Embroiled in the blame game, the rancher I invited for a pasta dinner, probably wanted to erase the evidence. But I had to wonder about this particular man. His enigmatic smile and double meanings in our discourse the last few weeks pointed toward someone who was as disgusted as I was.

I needed respite from the details I recorded on my laptop, adding up to hundreds of charges against the group. The few women who managed the escape back onto the reserve deserved validation. They demanded justice and I intended to give it to them. The story on the rest of the victims remained to be discovered. I might still have a body recovery on my hands.

Was the giant on the other side of the door on my side, or here for retaliation on behalf of his cohorts? I knew the game could be up the second I opened the door.

"Alyana, I need to get inside. Now, before someone sees me. I can hear horses, and some sort of ATV."

I took three quick steps and pulled the door open.

"Chayton, you're part of the problem." I was trying to let him know I knew he was part of the group I would get arrest warrants for in the morning. This last cassette was the final one as far as I could tell. I had twenty, and the vicious domineering ringleader,

"Something smells divine."

"Food. I made pasta with a classic red sauce. Easy, seeing as I grew most of the vegetables in my garden."

He nodded and said, "Time to come clean, Alyana. I made sure I left no evidence of my arrival."

"What do you mean come clean?"

"I've been ordered to arrange for your disposal along with the tapes. I can't let that happen." The green flecks in his deep brown eyes dominated his irises as he grasped my arms, forcing me to face him.

"What the fuck?" I let my usual iron control of my swearing habit slip. I thought I was justified.

"We both have Navajo names. We both know what's on those tapes. I'm under cover. You must be too."

His sudden disclosure shocked me but didn't surprise me. I wondered who he was working for. I tamped down on the sudden drop of my stomach. I couldn't let this throw me off my game.

"Those horses and the ATV are normal. They've been circling like turkey vultures at least once a week. They're early today, but they don't come at the same time of day all the time. Intimidation, I think."

"Exactly. I believe you are actually on the original reserve before the ranchers started encroaching. You've used it as a way to make your presence here allowable. Brave. I admire the tactic. I'm working for the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). This bunch needs to be rounded up. It's time."

"The spaghetti is almost ready. I think we need a hearty meal if we're going to get into work stuff." I waved at him to follow me into the kitchen once I pulled myself free of his hands. A short counter between fridge and stove dominated the tiny area. I had a miniscule table which would barely allow room for two to eat. My farmer's sink split the counter in two, and a colander sat in the bottom waiting for me to drain the pasta.

"I was pretty sure you weren't one of the perps. It's you who's been sending me those tapes, right?"

He nodded, and I checked the noodles for doneness then dumped them to drain. Then I continued, "Every one of the twenty women I was investigating have been accounted for. Finally. I've called in state patrol. I have to take you off the list of suspects, but from what I observed when I told them what I had, they knew you were up here." I saved a bit of the starchy water.

"Not a chance I'm one of them. Thanks for the heads up. Yeah, my bosses shared it with the detachment. But who are you working for?"

"Me?" I shook my hair out of my face, and then gathered the long black strands before tossing them over my left shoulder. "I'm Department of Justice. Lawyer in charge of indigenous missing women's cold cases. This one is close to my heart. That last tape validates my worst fear. My oldest sister was one of the twenty."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew you looked familiar. I'm sorry." He reached up with a gentle finger and wiped away a single tear which escaped my control.

I leaned into his hand, relishing the first kind touch from anyone in way too long, and changed the subject.

"Let's eat. Then we can get into the urgent business." I poured the last of the starchy cooking water into my sauce. The pot was huge. I loved cold pasta, and the leftovers would feed me for quite a few days.

Chayton asked, "Can I help?"

"There's big bowls up there," I jerked my head toward the top shelf on the wall beside the window. "Grab a couple and then look in this drawer for utensils." I touched the one next to me under the counter. I started mixing the noodles into the sauce as Chayton did what I asked.

We sat, digging into our meal silently, and then I felt his foot. A quiet, gentle stroke along my calf. I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth.

"I hope this isn't the end of us working together. There are more problems we can tackle." His eyes warmed me. But I wasn't going to let things get away from us before we finished this job.

"We'll talk about it. Right now, we have a raid to plan. The ranchers meet every Friday night. I want them arrested before the entertainment starts." I stuffed my fork in my mouth. The pasta really was good. I was hoping Chayton was just as hungry.

He nodded, slurping up a long, sauce covered noodle. "Exactly my plan."