As if the words had barbs, they arrowed deep into his chest. Twisted. Joe’s jaw tightened. “No. It’s not easy.”

“Maybe you could do something to get her to return here.” Bruce settled the glasses back on his nose and swallowed hard. “This situation…it’s not good for any of us. It’s got to be hard for Jonny to understand all the changes in his life recently. He needs his family around him at a time like this. All of his family.”

It was hard to disagree. Jonny’s home was here. His family was here, his grandfather and great-grandfather. His friends. Even the T-ball team he’d hoped to play on this summer. Heather had disrupted all that when she’d insisted on moving to Window Rock. She’d said she needed to find work. Joe remained unconvinced. She’d never worked a day in her life, and he was certain Bruce would have been glad to resume supporting her.

So that meant she’d done it solely to punish him. Maybe because he’d never been able to figure out how to make her happy. Probably because he’d finally gotten tired of trying.

“I don’t know what I can do. The custody hearing date is set for three weeks from now. Until then we both have to wait.”

“C’mon.” Bruce shuffled his feet, tried for a smile. “You’re a cop. You’ve got friends all over the reservation who are cops. You can make things…difficult for her, can’t you? You could make her see it’s better all around if she just comes home.”

Joe eyed him narrowly. “I’m not quite sure what you’re suggesting.”

“What I’m suggesting is that you prove you love your son, even if you no longer love my daughter.” His voice had risen with the statement, and Joe glanced at the closed door, wondering how many officers outside it were listening. “What I’m suggesting is that you use any means necessary to do what’s best for Jonny. Or don’t you care that your son is living among strangers? That you have to content yourself with every other weekend visits when you used to be a real part of his life?”

“Yes, I care.” Joe kept his voice low, his anger held in check. “But I’m not going to pull some stupid stunt that will jeopardize my case when it gets to court. I don’t like this situation any better than you do, but we both have to give this some time. It will sort itself out in the end.” He had to believe that. Had to believe his lawyer’s prediction of his chances in court. Because some days it was the only thing that kept him going.

Curious now, he looked more closely at the man. Bruce seemed thinner, a little stooped in the shoulders, and it was obvious that the situation was wearing on him, as well. “You’ve always had a close relationship with Heather. I can’t believe she wouldn’t listen to you if you tried to talk to her.”

The man puffed out a breath. “Heather hasn’t been listening to much I have to say for the last several months. I don’t know where her head is, I really don’t.” He sighed, straightened. “Just…promise you’ll think about what I said, Joe. Custody cases are never a sure thing. You may need to use other means to bring your son home.”

Bruce reached for the doorknob and Joe stood aside, let him leave. It was probably the first time in Bruce’s life that he hadn’t gotten his daughter to do exactly as he wanted. Well, the second time, given that she’d married Joe. But clearly Bruce was desperate if he’d come here, begging Joe to…do what? Arrange some sort of private harassment for his ex? Kidnap his son?

Joe shook his head. Would his desperation reach Bruce’s level if things didn’t go his way in court? He didn’t want to think about the complications that would arise should he be forced to transfer to be closer to his son. Charley was over eighty, and although he’d made it through the bypass surgery, he was at the age where he needed his family around him.

Deliberately, Joe closed the door on the staff room, trying to leave those thoughts behind, as well.

Captain Tapahe was waiting impatiently by his desk. “You’ve got a call, Joe.” As his stride quickened, the man lowered his voice. “You can take it in my office. It’s President Taos.”

Joe strode into the other man’s office, picked up the receiver. “This is Youngblood.”

“Frank Taos, here, Joe. We’ve never met, but your captain has been singing your praises.”

Warily, Joe looked up as the captain joined him in the office, closing the door behind him. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m just checking on how you’re coming on that incident involving Delaney Carson. I don’t think I have to tell you just how delicate the matter is.”

“I checked it out. The place was deserted, but it’s clear there had been some sort of illegal activity there. Whoever fired those shots did it to scare her away from the operation.”

“So your captain said.” There was an expectant pause, but Joe had no idea what he was expected to say to fill it. “Have you talked to the owner yet?”

“Not yet.” Apparently politicians had far more time on their hands than did tribal police investigators. “I’m in the middle of a multiagency drug investigation.”

“Which I’m sure is a priority. But I wanted you to know that I consider the Carson incident a priority, too. I’d like you to give it your closest attention. Wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on the woman yourself, until we know for sure she’s in no danger.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” At his captain’s scowl, Joe added a belated, “Sir.”

“And I think it is.” The steel in the man’s tone was unmistakable. “If you have too much on your plate I’m sure I can talk to some people, get you reassigned to free up more of your time. It’s your call.”

Joe held the receiver away from his ear in disbelief. Since when did the Tribal Council and Navajo President interfere with ongoing police investigations? Temper barely held in check, he said tightly, “That won’t be necessary.”

“Good. Keep me posted on what you discover. I can tell you find this an imposition, but I appreciate your help in the matter.”

Slowly, Joe dropped the phone back in its cradle and turned to face Captain Tapahe. The man shrugged. “I tried, Joe. He wanted me to pull you from the crystal ice case and I said no. This is give and take. Accept it at that.”

“Accept it?” There was a low burn in the pit of his belly. “Accept that someone who knows nothing about our cases can just arbitrarily pull some strings and screw up months of investigation? When did politicians start interfering with our work?”

“Since longer than you realize.” Tapahe rounded his desk and dropped heavily into the chair behind it. “We deflect as much of this kind of thing as we can, but you’re stuck on this one. Just humor the man. You were continuing to look into the matter anyway, right? That’s why you needed the information from the land bureau. Just follow up on that, get back to the president tomorrow and maybe that will be the end of it.”

“I was going to talk to more of Quintero’s customers today,” Joe objected. “I have a list of them that Arnie and I put together. I might be able to squeeze one or two of them, get something more…”

“Give the list to Garcia. She can do it for you.” At Joe’s scowl he said, “It’s called compromise, Youngblood. Be grateful you got a choice.”

A choice? Joe swallowed the retort that rose to his lips and turned to leave the office. When it came to Delaney Carson, he’d already learned to leave his preferences out of the equation.

Delaney held her sandwich in one hand and clutched the edge of the open screen door with the other to survey the man glowering at her from her porch. “Now what? Did I kick a kitten? Swat a fly? Make a list of my offenses. I’ll throw myself on the mercy of the court.” He didn’t crack a smile. Imagine that.

“You’ve got some pretty powerful friends.”

She cocked her head, considering. “You think? Well, there’s Joe Caprio at the McDonald’s back home in Witchita. He always gives me extra fries with my order, but powerful?” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t go that far.” She let the door slam behind him as he strode into the living room.