Four Corners War

by Ted Clifton

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. It could happen.” Tyee was getting annoyed with Ray’s stubbornness.

  When Ray and Tyee entered the interrogation room, Chavez had his head down on the table.

  “Frank?” Ray asked him, “Do you need a doctor?”

  He looked up. “I don’t think so. I just feel pretty bad. What’s going to happen to me?”

  Ray spoke calmly. “I don’t know. Right now, we need you to answer some questions. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to read you your rights. If you don’t understand what’s going on, or if you think this should wait until you have an attorney, that’s fine.” Ray pulled out his card and read Frank his rights. “Do you understand?”

  “Sure. Look, I’m hung over— not stupid. I want to tell what I know. I didn’t kill anyone. Period. I didn’t shoot at anyone. That old gun was my dad’s, and I’m not even sure it would fire. I’ve had some kind of mental breakdown, so lock me up. But not because I killed anyone, okay?” Frank’s voice raised while he spoke.

  “You had nothing to do with Lewis Grimes’s death?”

  “Nothing! Nothing! I told you, I didn’t kill anyone. I hated Grimes, and I’m glad the bastard is dead. But I didn’t do it.”

  “Did you have anything to do with Martin’s death?”

  “Jesus Christ. Listen to what I’m saying. I did not kill anyone. No one! Kill Martin? My god, are you crazy? He was my life. I loved Tom. I know that’s not allowed in Farmington, but I was in love. It was that monster Grimes who killed him. If I was anything other than a sniveling coward, I would have killed Grimes. But I didn’t.”

  “How do you know Grimes killed Martin?”

  He looked up. “He told me. I confronted him about it. He said, ‘Yeah, so damn what? I killed him.’ Just like that, he confessed. Said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut he’d kill me, too. He killed Tom because Tom decided he was going to tell you everything he knew about him, which was a lot. Tom told Grimes that. Told him he was finished, that he was going to see him go to jail. That’s why Grimes killed him.”

  “Was Martin having an affair with Barbara Jackson?”

  “Of course not. They were great friends, though. It was mostly because of her that Tom decided he had to do something about Grimes. He told me he thought Grimes had gone mad and had to be stopped. I begged him to leave it alone. I wanted us to go away somewhere together and forget everything else. But he said he couldn’t just leave. He had to deal with the monster.” Chavez laid his head on the table, breaking down.

  Ray instructed the sergeant to take him to the hospital and have him admitted for a mental evaluation.

  “Don’t you have to have a court order for that?” Hoover sounded sure about it.

  Ray looked at him. “Just have someone take him there, please. I’ll call the DA and have him take care of it.” The sergeant left.

  “We’re getting to the end of our rope. In lots of ways.” Tyee sounded nearly done.

  “Give me just a minute to call the DA. Then we can head out.”

  Tyee gave Ray a quizzical, slightly hopeful look. “Head out where?”

  “Navajo reservation.”

  “President Begay will see you now.”

  “Thank you.” Ray and Tyee entered the rather grand office of the president of the Navajo Nation.

  “I wasn’t sure if you would come or not. Watchman said you would because he would do the same.” Begay gestured for Ray and Tyee to be seated.

  “Where is Watchman?”

  “I’m not sure.” Begay looked troubled.

  Tyee spoke. “Being evasive with us only delays the inevitable.”

  “You’re Apache, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Apaches are our brothers. You should understand better than anyone that our lives are different. We are hearing different music than the white man, and it causes us to think differently. Those different thoughts involve not just us, but everything in this world and the one beyond. The world is not divided. Only people are divided. Watchman,” he added significantly, “is one of our spiritual leaders. And I have been honored to have known him.”

  Ray was losing patience. “Watchman killed Lewis Grimes. Didn’t he?”

  “The short answer is yes. The long answer is more complicated.”

  “We’ve got time. Tell us what that means.”

  “He was forced to kill Grimes because he’s a Navajo warrior. He had no choice once Grimes became an enemy of the Holy People.”

  Tyee nodded, but Ray asked, “Holy People?”

  “We don’t believe what you believe. But we have many similarities. Our spirits live with us. Kee was a Holy Person. Why and how that came to be doesn’t matter. For us, he was a special gift from our gods. The Navajo warrior protects the Holy People, and Watchman was a great warrior. And even if to your eyes, Kee was alive, Watchman had determined he was already dead. And his death had to be avenged. The person responsible for that was Lewis Grimes. Watchman had no choice.”

  “You can call it whatever you want,” Ray said, keeping his impatience and anger in check, “but whether you’re in Farmington or on the Navajo reservation, what you’re describing is murder. Where is Watchman?”

  Begay shook his head. “When Watchman killed Grimes, he also died. From the point of the death of Grimes, he was doomed. He won’t take any food. He’ll survive for some time—who knows how long—but he will be dead, in time. You can try to find him, but it would be futile. He has gone into the wild part of the reservation, to places where no white man has ever been. He is gone, and will die in peace.”

  “I could probably have charges brought against you.” Ray was not pleased with any of this.

  “If that suits your needs, then by all means, do it. But I’m not guilty of any crimes, except maybe spiritual ones.”

  Ray thought about Begay’s story. He wasn’t sure he understood everything he’d been told. Still, he was sure he was not going to arrest him. He also felt a tremendous sorrow in the pit of his stomach for Watchman. He knew he was a warrior, and he had not met many like him. He turned to Tyee. “Time for us to leave.” Ray got up.

  Tyee stood to address Begay. “Navajo warriors live forever. I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”

  The ride back to Farmington was long and quiet. Something good had died in order that something bad could be purged from the world.

  “Well, Thad Trujillo,” Ray smiled at the newly appointed San Juan County sheriff, “you must be pleased to see us leave.”

  Trujillo chuckled. “It’s been interesting. Still, I hate to think of what would have happened if you and Tyee hadn’t been here. I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me and my town.” He softened. “I went by the hospital this morning and visited with Frank. Ms. Walters was there reading to him. He seems a lot better.”

  “I hope things turn out okay for him. Any news on someone buying the Grimes Oil Company?”

  “Heard yesterday a big oil company made an offer, and it looks like Mrs. Grimes is going to take it. Sounds like she’ll be set for life. Guess everything worked out for some.” After a moment of awkward silence, Trujillo extended his hand to shake with Ray and Tyee. “Be careful driving home. Come back and see us anytime.”

  Tyee looked thoughtful on the way out of town. “Been thinking. I may never come back to Farmington. If someone offered me five hundred bucks, I wouldn’t set foot in that lovely town again. I believe I’m going to hold a grudge.”

  Ray smirked and shook his head. “How about five hundred thousand dollars? Would you live in Farmington, then?”

  “Half a million? Damn right. I’d live there and marry Ms. Walters. Life would be good.”

  “It’s good to know you have a price.”

  “Oh, I do. It’s really less than half a million; I’d rather not say how much.”

  Ray laughed. “Wonder how much Joyce is going to get for her half of the business?” Ray really didn’t care, but it felt nice
to talk about meaningless things.

  “One of the deputies told me more than eight million. How he got that, I have no idea.”

  Ray felt mischievous. “Wouldn’t it be interesting if she and Paul Unger plotted the whole thing to get the money? Since Unger prepared the will he knew she’d inherit half, and also he knew if Kee died before the forty-five days, she’d get it all. You saw how their romance sure did seem to blossom real quick. Maybe they’d been lovers all along, and it was all one big evil plan by the small but smart Paul Unger. How do you like that for a plot?” He watched Tyee for a reaction.

  “That’s not nice, Ray. Now that’s in my head. Nah. Can’t be right. We know what happened.” He pouted.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Ray was having fun.

  “You really are a wiseass.”

  “It’s the company I keep.” After a few more miles, Ray asked, “Do you believe what Begay was saying?”

  “He wouldn’t lie about something that important. The problem is, we don’t understand how he and Watchman see the world. It’s different. We live in the same world, but it’s not the same. Was it right for Watchman to kill Grimes? Not by our laws. By theirs, it might have been. I’m not Navajo, and I’m not a spiritual Apache. When I lived with my relatives, I was often confused about how they thought. They thought I was the odd one. And I thought they were. Maybe I should have tried harder to understand the way the old Apaches saw the world, and how we fit into that world. The Navajos believe in a different order. But,” he nodded, “I completely believe Begay was telling you exactly what he thought. And in his world, Watchman had no choice but to deal with Grimes. And here’s what we have to understand: even in the Navajo world, even if that world sees what he did as right, there will be consequences. Watchman has to pay the ultimate price for his act, even if not in the way we think he should, with a trial and a judge. He has set his own punishment.”

  “It’s a different kind of justice,” Ray admitted, “but maybe it is justice.”

  “I think so.”

  Ray woke up in his own bed. He almost laughed, it was so wonderful. Sue was still asleep, so he didn’t. Instead he headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Happy got up to come over and greet him with an aggressive, tail-wagging good morning. Happiness was being home with a lovely wife and faithful dog.

  Sue walked in. “My, but you look happy.”

  “I am happy. Wow, am I ever.” Of course, every time Ray said “happy,” his dog jumped. “I think my dog wants to go outside and play.”

  “I’m sure he does. You know he misses you a lot. You go. I’ll make breakfast.”

  Ray hugged his wife, and they kissed. “Did I tell you how happy I am?”

  “Ray, you’re just making the dog crazy.”

  Ray followed the bouncing and tail-wagging dog outdoors.

  The breakfast of hash browns, fried eggs, and bacon was unusual for Sue, who usually insisted on a healthier option. But for Ray’s return from Farmington, she went all-out.

  “It’s really great to be in good old T or C,” Ray said with a smile. “I know this likely isn’t so, but it seems to me it even smells different here.”

  Sue laughed out loud. Next, he saw she was crying.

  “My goodness, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just miss you so much.”

  “I’m never leaving home again.”

  “You do remember were going to Santa Fe tomorrow for the governor’s funeral?”

  “Okay, then. I’m never leaving home again after we get back from Santa Fe.”

  “That’s an okay with me.”

  He sighed. “I know I said yes because the governor put it down in his final instructions, but I dread giving a eulogy. You would think he’d pick a fellow politician for that. They love to talk. I don’t.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “Maybe you just answered you own question. He was a great friend of yours. He was odd, even strange, but he admired you and you admired him. Just tell people that. It doesn’t have to be long-winded. Just tell them what you feel.”

  “I will do that. Thanks.” Ray smiled. “Are Tyee and Nancy going to be there?”

  “That’s what Tyee said yesterday before he left for Albuquerque. I sure hope everything works out. I have a really good feeling about them.”

  “Me, too. I hope it works.”

  Ray spent the afternoon writing out a few thoughts for the eulogy. He was not comfortable about speaking in front of a lot of people, even if it was an honor. And he wanted to make sure he didn’t come off like a hick sheriff.

  An early morning departure got them to Santa Fe in plenty of time. They had reserved a room at the La Fonda, the memories of the famous margaritas were a major factor. They agreed they would give those another shot.

  Their room wasn’t ready when they checked in, so they left their luggage at the desk. Ray was thinking a cup of coffee would be just the thing he needed before leaving for the service. After some time alone, they were ready. It was a beautiful day and they decided to walk. They had time. As they approached the capitol it was clear there was going to be a huge crowd.

  The service was in the rotunda. Ray was relieved it was not at a church, which would have made him even more nervous. As they entered, several people came up to Ray to offer condolences. That seemed odd to Ray, but he only smiled and moved on. They spotted Tyee and Nancy, who had saved seats for them. The service began with songs and speeches by several people Ray didn’t know. Quicker than Ray preferred, the lieutenant governor made a statement that sounded like a political speech and it was his turn.

  “When I first met the governor, I thought, ‘I’m going to hate this man.’ ” Ray smiled and looked across the crowd. Everyone was paying attention. “As I got to know him, I became one of his biggest admirers. I regret now, that I didn’t tell him how much I admired who he was. But that would not have mattered to him. He never seemed to notice whether people admired him or hated him. He just did the job the best he could, regardless. The governor didn’t care what important people thought of him. He knew he rubbed many elites the wrong way. He cared most about whether the people of this state thought he was doing his job to make their lives better—especially the ones who didn’t have wealth or power. He worked every day to make their world, their state better for them. The important people never did understand him. Many thought he was a buffoon. But what they did not understand is that he knew who he was—he was someone who cared about the people he represented. Every one of them, and the weakest were the ones he cared about most. Any powerful man could demand all he wanted from the governor, but if it was not good for the state, he would not budge. A weak man, someone in trouble, someone under the thumb of some bureaucrat or fighting the power structure didn’t even have to ask for Jeremiah Johnson’s help. He wanted to help. I had lots of dealings with the governor, and there was always one thing he’d ask me, ‘Is it fair?’ He wanted everyone treated the same, and it had to be fair. You might say, ‘Well, what does that mean?’ Being fair to everyone is not as easy as it may sound. In all my dealings with the governor, his sense of fairness was always exactly right. He never wanted to split it in the middle, because that’s not fair. It’s arbitrary. He’d make the right choice every time, no matter who was involved.

  “He taught me a lot. For sure, he taught me some words I will not use here today. While his language was colorful and not always suitable for everyone, he was a kind and forgiving man who wanted the best for everyone. He cared. I did not know his wife, Jane. I know her death was a great tragedy for him. He once told me she was why he cared so much, because she had cared, and he was the one left. He had to go on and do the best he could, for her.

  He cleared his throat. “I have recently experienced something that has caused me to question a lot of things. A man who considered himself a Navajo warrior took actions that many will question and even condemn because he did not choose the easy path of just standing back and letting someone else deal with a difficult issue. His wa
s a path in which you take responsibility for everything you touch. In that path, the world and you are the same, and you cannot hide from responsibility. Governor Johnson was not a Navajo warrior, but he could have been.

  “My friend Governor Jeremiah Johnson will be greatly missed.”

  Ray stepped toward his chair, suddenly aware that everyone was applauding, and they were rising to stand while he passed. He kept his head down and found his seat.

  Sue leaned over to whisper, “Perfect.”

  The service ended. Many people came up to Ray to thank him for his words about the governor. He felt totally out of place, and he and Sue left as soon as it seemed appropriate.

  “How ’bout a margarita? This walk is making me thirsty.” Sue smiled at him.

  “Sounds good to me. Are Tyee and Nancy joining us?”

  “No, they went back to Albuquerque. She has some kind of important test and needed to study. They did say they’re coming down to T or C to stay with us this weekend.” Sue was anxious to talk to Nancy.

  They settled into the colorful, crowded bar and ordered two giant margaritas. The drinks arrived quickly in glasses so large they looked too heavy for a person to lift. It was a good thing they came with straws. Soon, Sue and Ray were feeling much younger—maybe even smarter.

  “I think we’ve been here before. It’s about now we say adios and go to our room, correct?” Sue was giggling quietly.

  “Yes. I want to be alone with you.”

  They were up early the next morning, checked out and headed home.

  “Do you think we’ll get tired of each other?”

  Here we go again, Ray thought. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. You just see people who’ve been married a long time and they seem kind of tired of each other.”

  He grabbed her hand. “I don’t think that will happen with us. How could you ever get tired of me?”