Death Etched in Stone

by C. M. Wendelboe

Manny stood and stretched. “There was some office money taken?”

  Lucille nodded. “From the door pocket. That’s where we keep a few bucks for office expenses. It’s gone. And things needing attention.”

  “Like Johnny’s will?”

  “If Devlon put it there, it’s gone now.”

  Willie came in from the doorway and stepped closer. “Could Johnny have come back to the office and taken the will?”

  Lucille laughed. “Not hardly. Johnny stumbled out of here after talking with Devlon. He was mumbling something about grabbing some Forever Stamps and headed across the street to the post office. I guess he won’t be using those stamps forever.”

  “I guess not.” Manny stood and pocketed his notebook. He started for the door when Lucille stopped him. “One other thing: Johnny was rambling on about needing to make peace with ‘that witch Della.’ For some reason.”

  Chapter 25

  Willie kept the rental car riding atop ruts blown clean by a stiff cross wind. Manny let him drive to Della’s: Willie drove better than he flew, and a lot safer than Manny. “How do you suppose someone broke into Thomas’s safe? ’Cause I’m ruling out Lucille as the killer.”

  “How about as a suspect in the disappearance of Johnny’s new will or the office slush money?”

  “She’d have no reason to take Johnny’s will,” Willie said. “As for the office money, it would be hard seeing your boss dead, and knowing you’re out of a job. Enough money in the petty cash to cover this week’s rent, might have been a crime of opportunity for her.”

  “Is that your vast experience talking?”

  “No. It’s that little tic at the side of her one eye when you asked her about the money.”

  “You’re learning,” Manny said.

  Manny patted his shirt pocket for smokes that weren’t there and grabbed a piece of Juicy Fruit. “McDonald thought the killer might have come upon Thomas while he was there alone over the weekend. Killed him and took the money. Locked the safe in hopes no one would realize the will was missing.”

  “Sounds logical,” Willie said. He popped a CD into the player. “But that heat business doesn’t. It wasn’t too cold this weekend. Why do you suppose Devlon cranked it up?”

  “He didn’t,” Manny said. ZZ Top came through the speakers louder than Manny wanted, and he turned it down.

  “Is that your vast experience talking?”

  “Actually,” Manny smiled, “it is. Someone who had just enough knowledge about fixing time of death would have been aware that increasing the room temperature would mess up the coroner’s estimates.”

  “Bobo?”

  Manny shrugged. “With his record—and as many years as he’s spent in prisons—he’d have that knowledge.”

  Willie turned the volume up slightly and kept his hand resting beside the volume control. “But Johnny’s will? Now that’s a puzzle.” Lucille told them she had intended filing Johnny’s will with the county clerk. Then thought to hell with it and left it until Monday. Except Monday would never come for Devlon Thomas or Johnny’s missing will. “If the closest minerals to that place are underground thirty miles away, I’d bet no one would have been out a penny,” Willie said.

  They turned off 17 Mile Road and passed a boy riding his bicycle, scarf pulled tight around his thin neck, snot froze to his wind-chafed cheeks. He waved at them as they drove past, and Willie waved back. “What do you suppose Johnny would have wanted to make peace with Della about? Odd that he lived next door to her for forty years and suddenly he needed to talk with her.”

  Manny patted his pocket again for cigarettes that weren’t there before grabbing a fresh piece of gum. “One of the follow-up reports on the Butch Hausey murder had the BIA investigator interviewing Johnny fifteen years after the murder. He claimed Della sneaked away from the hospital and killed Butch.”

  “How would he know? He wasn’t even on Wind River at the time.”

  “I’m guessing Johnny got that notion from the many times he and Henry talked across the fence.”

  “And wanting to be a big shot, he passed the rumor along?” Willie said. “But why make peace with Della now?”

  “The same reason he wanted a new will,” Manny said. “He must have thought he was close to the end of his life. People often want to tie up loose ends with others before they die.”

  “Or take care of them?” Willie said. “Like I’m protecting you.”

  Manny half-turned in the seat. “What?”

  “By insisting I drive instead of you.”

  “Hell,” Manny said. “That’s just self-preservation.”

  *****

  “I’ll be back as soon as I talk with Henry,” Willie said as he dropped Manny off at Della’s.

  She stood in the doorway and held the storm door open for Manny. “You said it was important. It better be. I got cows to feed.”

  Della led him into the tiny kitchen where she had coffee in a mug waiting for him. “Now, what’s this about Johnny wanting to make peace with me?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Did he talk with you about anything shortly before he was found dead?” Manny sipped the coffee. Like her cake he’d been force-fed the last trip, her coffee was something he’d not soon yearn for. Bitter. Mostly cold. Like Della had become over years of working herself to the bone for land she would never possess. “The day before he died, Johnny was heard saying he was on his way here to make peace with you.”

  “He made it, all right—in the middle of mending fence.”

  “What did he want?”

  Della shrugged. She sipped her coffee and scrunched her face up. Even she couldn’t stand it. “He stopped by and we talked for bit. He didn’t mention anything about making peace. All he talked about was getting right with the Great Mystery. He used to visit the glyphs when he was younger, now and again, spend all day praying to the Creator. Maybe that’s what the old fool was going to do.”

  “What glyphs?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You have been living with the white man too long, Agent Tanno. The petroglyphs along Legend Rock outside of Thermopolis. Though I can’t imagine how the old fool would have gotten there now.”

  “I thought he had a truck he sneaked out now and again?”

  Della laughed. “That’s one thing I’ll give Brandi credit for. Johnny may have had a dozen keys hidden for it, but she made sure the pickup was perpetually riding on empty. Just so he couldn’t get too far. Probably in town somewhere out of gas.”

  “Then how would he have been able to get to Legend Rock? Last I knew, Thermopolis was about a two-hour drive.”

  “And that’s with the roads being decent. With this early snow, it would have taken him longer than that.” She nodded to Manny’s coffee cup. “Drink up. More where that came from.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of, Manny thought, as he braved another sip of her mop water. “If you didn’t have a car, how would you get to Legend Rock?”

  Della shrugged.

  Manny kicked that over in his mind. Johnny had called Tony wanting him to come to Wind River. He wouldn’t have asked Tony to come all the way over here just to give him a ride. Or would he?

  “When was the last time you saw Tony?”

  “What do you need with him?” she snapped.

  “I’d like to talk with him.”

  “I haven’t seen Tony for months. Leave him be,” Della sputtered. “He’s a good boy.”

  “I’m sure he is. But I need to clear things up. You will call me if he shows?”

  Della looked away for that brief second, her eyes twitched in what Manny recognized as a micro tic, and he knew she wouldn’t tell him if Tony showed up.

  He rose slowly, stretching his knees. He needed to hit the road, get some run time in even though it was winter. He stopped before he reached the door and fa
ced her. “Did Johnny know about Butch Hausey’s murder?”

  That micro tic again. “He was just a kid living on a spread outside Lander when Butch was murdered. He wouldn’t have known anything about it. Why?”

  “Johnny wanted to make peace with you,” he repeated. “Might it have had anything to do with Butch’s death?”

  She waved it away. “Johnny once said he knew I’d killed Butch Hausey. Imagine, a young girl killing a tough guy like Butch. I told him I hadn’t, but he always claimed Kenton told him one night when they were both drunk.”

  “But the police had suspected Kenton?”

  Della’s face flushed, and she leaned close. “Butch kicked the cow crap out of Kenton. He was lying in that hospital room in Lander at the time of the murder. There’s no way he could have driven back to the rodeo grounds and killed Butch. For the next two days straight, I sat in my brother’s hospital room. I never left his side once.”

  “And you hated Johnny for spreading that rumor?”

  “I did.”

  “Enough to kill him?”

  “Not hardly.” She set her cup on the coffee table. “And if you think I did, you’re as looney as he was. That was booze making Johnny ramble on. And I’m thinking that was the first and the last time Johnny drank. He made an idiot of himself, too. But why would I want the old fool drowned now? I figured he’d wander off somewhere in a daze and do himself in. He didn’t need my help to hasten his death.”

  Manny watched out the door for Willie.

  “These last years were probably the best,” Della continued. “Only because I didn’t have to see or talk with Johnny. He left me alone to work the ranch while he drifted over to the senior center in Fort Washakie for Bingo or lunch.”

  Willie pulled up by the door, and Manny headed for the car. “I’ll tell you just as soon as Tony shows up,” she called after him. “No need to look for him. I’ll call.”

  Manny stepped out into the cold and pulled his collar up against the wind. He climbed in the car and rubbed his hands over the heater vent. “What pearls of wisdom did Henry have?”

  “Just that Tony came by Della’s house yesterday.”

  “Is he sure it was Tony?”

  Willie turned onto the gravel road leading to Riverton. “They had lunch together.”

  “Lunch?”

  Willie fished his can of Copenhagen from his pocket. He drove with his elbows while he took a dip. “Tony drove up to Henry’s place just as he was having some lunch. He said he had some time to kill while he waited for Della to come home from Lander.”

  “What was Tony doing on Wind River?” Manny asked.

  “Besides evading us? Henry said Tony needed to talk with Della.”

  “So they had tea and crumpets all afternoon. That’s just swell.”

  Willie laughed. “I’m not sure if Henry could bake crumpets.”

  “Couldn’t be any worse than Della’s baking,” Manny said.

  “I hear you there,” Willie chuckled. “Anyway, they passed the hour until Della got home. The last Henry saw of Tony, he was heading to Della’s cottage. Henry had work to do and wasn’t paying any attention after that.”

  “By any chance did he see Tony come by Della’s or Johnny’s place before Johnny disappeared?”

  “I asked him that, too. Yesterday was the first time Henry has seen Tony in months.”

  Manny told Willie that Della said she hadn’t seen Tony for some time.

  “It doesn’t surprise me that she’d lie,” Willie said, brushing snuff off onto his pant leg. “Tony’s the closest thing to a son Della’s got.”

  “And another thing: this is the second time I’ve been told Johnny didn’t drink.”

  “So the .15 blood alcohol in his system . . . ”

  “He could have been forced there,” Manny said.

  “Or tricked,” Willie slowed for a calf trotting to catch up with its mother. “It wouldn’t have been difficult.”

  Manny’s cell phone rang, and Willie stopped on a high spot in the road. “I finally got the paper dried out,” Pee Pee lisped into the phone, his dentures not seated properly.

  “What paper?”

  “The one from Johnny’s pocket.”

  “I almost forgot about that.” Manny held the phone so Willie could hear. “Some yellow brochure of sorts.”

  “It was a Wyoming publication about Legend Rock. Now why would he have that in his jacket?”

  “Because Johnny had to get right with the Creator. We just found out the why. And now we know they were there for certain.” Manny hung up. And smiled. “I got a reprieve. I’ll be driving back myself.”

  Willie turned in the seat. “I don’t believe you’re backing out.”

  “Johnny had talked to Della about visiting the petroglyphs at Legend Rock,” Manny said, almost giddy with relief. “Now we know that he did. He didn’t drive himself there, and I doubt he shelled out money for a marathon cab ride. We might get lucky and find out who did drive him there.”

  “I could fly to Thermop—”

  “I need to drive.”

  “We could rent a car once we land.”

  Manny smiled and patted Willie’s shoulder. “That’s all right. I’ve got some praying to do at Legend Rock myself.” For deliverance from your flying.

  Chapter 26

  Manny waited until Willie was in the air and headed in the general direction of Pine Ridge, before he returned Lumpy’s call.

  “What the hell you two doing over there all day,” Lumpy said, “hitting the casino?”

  “Willie’s on his way home.”

  “You’re not flying home with him?”

  “I’m headed to Legend Rock.”

  “Bullshit. You just don’t want to fly with Willie,” Lumpy chuckled. “You’re not as dumb as I give you credit for.”

  Manny rubbed the headache that often came on when he talked with the Round Mound of Sound. “Now what was so urgent that I needed to call?”

  “Robert Hollow Thunder thought he had Bobo Groves cornered outside Wounded Knee. Robert came on his beater car crapped out along the side of the road. Engine still warm. We set up a perimeter, but Bobo slipped through. Robert started looking in fields, and when he came back, Bobo’s car was gone. We still got patrols out looking for him. Any suggestions?”

  “You’re asking the advice of a federal officer?”

  “Sometimes it’s necessary to drift over to the dark side. But you’ve talked with Bobo more than anyone. He had to have called someone to come pick him up, ’cause I don’t imagine him to be the survivalist type.”

  “Call Rapid City PD and have them sit on the D&D. If anyone picked him up, it was his wife.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Lumpy started to disconnect when Manny added: “And get some units sitting on Sadie Moon’s house. If Bobo’s on the rez, he’s there looking for Shawna. And he won’t know that she’s not coming back to Grandma Sadie’s house.”

  “You think I have that kind of manpower to spare?” Lumpy asked.

  Lumpy didn’t, and Manny knew it. But he sure wasn’t going to concede that Lumpy was right.

  *****

  Manny turned off Highway 170 onto a rough gravel road leading to Legend Rock. During the tourist season, the road would be worn packed and smooth. During this off season period, the trail was bumpy, rutted, with large chunks of mud kicking up under the fenders of the rental car.

  “If the gate’s locked,” the manager of the State Bath House in Thermopolis said over the phone, “you’ll have to come into town and get the key. We have volunteers show up, but not as often after Labor Day.” Manny was in luck: the gate stood open, and he followed the signs leading to the Legend Rock visitor center.

  He stopped beside a pavilion where people might have their lunch and talk of the wondr
ous petroglyphs or the starkly beautiful scenery in Wind River Canyon when driving to the site. Now, only an older woman with her back to the wind drawing on a meerschaum pipe sat at a covered picnic table. The pipe’s brown patina told Manny the woman had smoked it for years, and she took it out of her mouth when she spotted Manny pulling up to the visitor center.

  “Kind of cold to be out here,” Manny said as he climbed out and approached the picnic tables.

  She glared at him and brushed the light skiff of snow from her parka. “Too damned hot to be cooped up in the office.”

  Manny sat opposite her and she dog-eared her book, Lover at Last. The last thing Manny wanted to imagine was the woman having a lover. At last. “I’m looking for some information.”

  “Aren’t we all?” She nodded to the visitors building. “All the information you need is in there.”

  “Not all.” He turned his collar up as he sat with his back to the wind. “Were you, by any chance, here last Tuesday?”

  “I’m here every day. Unless the sun gets too hot. Then someone else can damned well sit here.”

  “Any visitors come to the glyphs last Tuesday?”

  She knocked her pipe on the heel of her boot. Burnt embers fell away, and she reached for a tobacco pouch inside her coat pocket. “Whole bunch of visitors. Japanese tourist bus. Guess they didn’t want to visit during the summer when it gets so blamed hot,” she laughed. “About froze their scrawny little asses off.”

  “I’m interested in an Indian who came to pray at the site.”

  “India Indian?”

  “Indian Indian,” Manny said. “Like me.”

  She stared over the prairie, as she used the eraser of her pencil to tamp the tobacco into the bowl. “Sure. I remember one. A little looney I think, but reverent. Respectful. Don’t see that too often with people that come just to gawk.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “Of course he wasn’t alone. He was older than me even, hobbling around barely able to walk, let alone drive. He had a man with him. Big guy. Looked Indian, but he wasn’t one of our Indians.” She held up her hands. “No offense.”

  Manny dug into his shirt pocket and took out photos of Johnny and Tony and handed them to her. She squinted and motioned to the building. Manny followed her inside. She went behind the counter and began opening doors. “Got to find a reading glass.”