Manny thought about high-fiving her, then realized at her age, bones break easily.
He cleared his throat, building up the courage to ask her: “Did Chief Horn—”
“Not every day I go to a funeral and a wedding in the same week,” she interrupted, chewing on a cocktail shrimp before washing it down with punch. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “You want to know if Verlyn said anything before he died? Did he leave you a message?”
Manny nodded.
“It was so sudden. He knew his ticker was failing him for months. The doctor had given him until the first of the year to live.” Sadie shook her head, and her mouth down turned in profound sadness. “He almost made it.”
“Why didn’t he say something to me if he knew he was sick? Why didn’t he let me know? I could have helped him—”
“He did tell you.”
Manny’s eyebrows raised.
“He told you he did not have much time left. I even told you he did not have time.”
“You did?” Manny asked.
Sadie nodded. “Every time you insisted he get another dog, he told you he did not have time for one. Verlyn did not want to get a dog to replace Mable and have the poor creature abandoned when he walked on to the Spirit Road.”
Manny looked away, tears forming in his eyes. Sadie laid her hand on his arm. “But he did not have to leave you any message. Not really. Of all the officers who had worked for him, Verlyn liked you and that pompous ass Leon Looks Twice the best. Where is the new police chief, by the way?”
Manny checked his watch. “About now, he’s probably headed to a meeting with the U.S. Attorney on what to do with Shawna.”
Sadie’s mouth drooped as she picked at her potato salad with her fork. “What will they prosecute her for?”
“Lumpy’s going to argue that Shawna hung with the wrong crowd. In this case a crowd of one—Nate Yellow Bull. He’s going to try to convince the prosecutor that she’s going to go the straight and narrow—”
“She is, you know,” Sadie said, but there was little conviction in the old woman’s voice. “She will be good.”
Manny nodded. “I know she will.”
“You do?”
Since Shawna was placed in a foster home on the rez, she began pulling out of the depths she fell into when she began hanging with Nate Yellow Bull. “She’ll start back to school this semester after the Christmas break.”
Sadie smiled. “When can I see her?”
“I’ll talk with Chief Looks Twice. I see no reason why she can’t move back in with you soon. But for now, she’s got to get ready for school. And her part time job.”
The old woman’s eyes lit up. “Doing what?”
“Assisting the animal shelter cleaning cages. Feeding stray dogs they’ve picked up. And taking one Chief Horn the Hound for a walk every day.”
Sadie patted Manny’s arm again. “See, Verlyn Horn and Wakan Tanka are looking out for my granddaughter.”
About the Author
C. M. Wendelboe entered the law enforcement profession when he was discharged from the Marines as the Vietnam war was winding down.
In the 1970s, his career included assisting federal and tribal law enforcement agencies embroiled in conflicts with American Indian Movement activists in South Dakota.
He moved to Gillette, Wyoming, and found his niche, where he remained a sheriff’s deputy for more than 25 years.
During his 38-year career in law enforcement he had served successful stints as police chief, policy adviser, and other supervisory roles for several agencies. Yet he always has felt most proud of “working the street.” He was a patrol supervisor when he retired to pursue his true vocation as a fiction writer.
He writes the Spirit Road Mystery series (Berkley Prime Crime); Bitter Wind Mystery series (Midnight Ink), Nelson Lane Frontier Mystery series (Five Star Publishing), and the Tucker Ashley Western series (Five Star Publishing).
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