Page 125 of Canyon of Deceit
An image of us laughing and picking wildflowers seemed like a forgotten dream, just like in days gone by with Kate. “I’d be honored. She and I have become good friends.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
ONE YEAR LATER
THERESE
Blane had often talked about returning to the Guadalupe Mountains and Dog Canyon to take photographs. He wanted to capture the light to reflect in his landscape painting.
“Aren’t you concerned you might fall again?” I’d said repeatedly.
“Nope. I don’t intend to go anywhere except on a trail. Well, maybe a little off-trail but not like we did last October.”
Receiving closure for Kate, searching for Alina, facing the ROC, the lies, betrayal, and outcome bothered me still. But I agreed to come, and I’d be watching him every step of the way. His arm had healed nicely, and through PT, he’d received full mobility.
Rurik interviewed with the FBI and gave them critical details. Like the Baranovs, Rurik and Alina were given new identities and placed in Witness Protection. Blane and I had talked to them about God, and they promised to seek Him. I’d never see sweet Alina again, but she lived on in my heart... like Kate. And my heart was a safe place.
Jurg Falin recovered. Bitterness kept him closemouthed, and he refused to relay where the chips were stored or his intentions in using them. He faced a lengthy prison term. No doubt he’d assist the ROC behind bars.
Daria had been sentenced to life at a maximum-security federal prison in Beaumont, Texas—United States Penitentiary. So many charges against her that she’d never see daylight. But she’d chosen her priorities.
The FBI filed charges against Hilltop Defense Distributors in Utah. They ceased operations, and those involved faced federal charges including negligence, conspiracy, and aiding and abetting criminal activities, and those initial charges were before other federal agencies like the ATF joined in the prosecution. During the investigation, the FBI uncovered laser-weaponry components and other arms sales with the cartels in Mexico and overseas.
Blane searched for the two teen boy angels—Gabriel and Michael. Never found them, even though the police had their last names and addresses. No such persons or addresses existed. We often laughed about it.
“You’re quiet,” Blane said as he drove along U.S. Highway 62 from Hobbs, New Mexico, to the Guadalupe Mountains.
“The last time we drove this road, I was at the steering wheel of a Jeep, and it was pitch black.”
“I remember, and you were adorable.”
I swung to him. “We were both scared and too full of ourselves to admit it.”
“We did take on the impossible.” He kissed my hand. “Look what we gained. Eternity and more.”
I grinned. “That was poetic, Agent Gardner.”
“Thank you. I do have my finer moments.”
Over the past year, he’d joined my church, a men’s Bible study, and applied for training to minister to prison inmates. “You have many fine moments.”
“Whoa. Can I hear those words again?”
“No way. Wouldn’t want you to get a swelled head. We’re spending the day in the mountains for you to take pics?”
He nodded. “I might let you see the paintings when they are done. True originals.”
I’d seen his paintings, and they were outstanding. “Honestly, they are gallery worthy.”
He lifted his chin. “I hit the jackpot.”
“We both did.”
“Okay, pretty lady, why is a guitar riding with us?”
“I bought one a couple of months ago.” I sensed myself grow warm. “I wrote you a song.” I was about to lose what courage I had. What if he didn’t like it?
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