“Yes, there is. When that park truck pulled out of the checkpoint, I noticed its exhaust was smoking… white like that truck up ahead; there’s still a haze laying on the road.” Thomas was convinced and Charlie knew he was the sort who would notice such a thing.
“See those taillights? Late model Dodge pickup taillights––that park truck was a Dodge. This is it, I tell you.” Thomas was clearly excited now and it was infectious.
Charlie tromped the accelerator, and as they pulled closer, could more clearly see the smoke. Charlie backed off and the Dodge slowed slightly as well. He looked over at the FBI man.
“What do you think, Fred?”
“Let’s ease back a bit and follow him for a few minutes.” The FBI man was well schooled in the artifices of pursuit.
Thomas was having a hard time containing himself, gripping the dash with both hands, and again shouted, “Stay with him, Charlie! We’ve got him now.”
Fred Smith leaned forward as well. “Hit your lights and siren, Charlie. Let’s see if he’ll pull over.”
When the lights and siren came on, the Dodge only increased its speed, though they were already hitting eighty after the long downhill straightaway. Less than a mile farther on the truck, without using it’s turn signals, suddenly dived to the right and skidded the rear end sideways as it made the turn onto 46, slowing very little for the first of the gentle curves. Charlie began to lose ground. Fred, who was a standout of the FBI’s driving school at Quantico, could see what was happening and gently began to coach him. “Brake hard before the curves, Charlie, then accelerate into them.”
Thomas had been on this road several times when he worked in the oilfield and was nearly breathless when he said, “He’s going way too fast. There’s some bad curves at the top of the bluff. Ease off, Charlie. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
The words hardly left Thomas’s mouth when the switchbacks began to tighten, and they could see, by the taillights, the truck was fishtailing, trying to hold traction in the turns. About that time, the highway straightened slightly and they could see the lights pull away—and then disappear.
“Don’t worry, Charlie! There’s a twenty-mile stretch of straight road at the bottom. We’ll catch him there. He can’t outrun this Chevy down on the flats.”
At the edge of the bluff, Charlie slowed considerably, and as they started down Thomas held up a hand.
“Stop!’ There was a light haze of dust in the air and skid marks across the gravel to the edge. Thomas nodded. “I didn’t think he would make it.”
The three of them got down from the truck and walked through the dust to the edge. Fred Smith stood at the brink of the nothingness, and in his matter of fact way, said, “We got him all right.”
Far below, possibly more than a thousand feet by the time the truck tumbled over and over across the broken sandstone at the bottom, there was only the glow from one headlight to mark the truck’s final resting place…and that, too, soon disappeared.
Charlie’s heart was pounding so hard he thought, surely the others can hear it. He searched the darkness about them. “You don’t think he could have jumped out, do you?” He couldn’t imagine it, but had to at least explore the possibility.
Thomas stepped even closer to the edge, and peered out into the night and the twinkling lights of the tiny settlement of Paradox. He spit into the void. “He didn’t jump out. He didn’t have time to even think about jumping out.”
Fred Smith nodded agreement. “We better call into Moab for a recovery team. This is going to take awhile.”
~~~~~~
It was nearly daylight when Charlie Yazzie drove up the road to his house. Already, the guinea hens were coming down from the neighbor’s trees, marshaling their forces into tight little bands of marauders, eager to begin another day’s adventure. Guineas live a precarious life and like to get the most from what time they have.
The light had been left on in the living room and Charlie knew Sue was probably already up and in the kitchen.
She was at the door before he could turn off the truck. Smiling, she asked, “Shall we run to greet the sun this morning?”
Charlie gave a tired smile in return. “I’ll be lucky if I can make it into the house this morning.”
Sue laughed and said, “I knew you were on the way. Lucy Tallwoman called to say you dropped Thomas off at their place and were headed home. It sounded like you two had quite a night?”
“Is the coffee on?” Charlie put his arm around his wife and they were soon at the table with steaming cups before them.
Sue gave him a minute to settle himself and fix his coffee. After a few sips, her husband seemed inclined to talk and she pulled her chair closer.
It took Charlie nearly an hour to fill her in on the night’s happenings. Sue didn’t interrupt, and at the end, was left wide-eyed and filled with questions. “Where are Harley and that woman, Eileen, now?”
“They are both in holding, waiting to see what charges, if any, might be filed by the federal prosecutor. After I have breakfast, and get cleaned up, I’ll meet with Fred Smith and we’ll see what’s to be done.” He paused. “If Claude Bell had lived, it would be a totally different story. Eileen would be in custody as a material witness, taken to Phoenix, and held at the discretion of the prosecutor down there. As it is, Fred and I believe she’ll more than likely be arraigned here on the reservation and go before a Tribal judge on reduced charges. Her mother’s a Navajo and that means she’s a Navajo. Unless Willie Etcitty and her father decide to press charges for stealing their pickup…which is not likely.”
“What about Harley?”
“Harley had no knowledge of any criminal activity on Eileen’s part…so no harboring of a fugitive. Fred and Billy Red Clay agree he was coerced, and forced against his will to go with her on her escape. Billy argued for a kidnapping charge at first but his Uncle Thomas talked him out of that saying it would serve no purpose at this point. Harley wouldn’t have gone along with it anyway. He said he enjoyed the whole thing and would testify on her behalf should it come to that. We’ll get it all sorted out this morning. There’ll be official depositions taken by the Bureau in regard to the murder down in Arizona, but with Claude Bell out of the picture, she shouldn’t have to appear in person down there. Fred thinks it should, pretty much, be case closed for the Phoenix bureau. And, in the end, it should be pretty much the same for the Benny Klee case here on the reservation.
“What about her and Harley? Are they involved…uh, a couple now… or what?”
“Now, that, we don’t know…and I’m not sure they know either. Harley would be up for it…I’m guessing here…but Eileen is a hard one to figure. We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose. She is on the Navajo Tribal Rolls and eligible to receive help or assistance here on the reservation, but we’ll just have to see how that plays out. I think it might be good for Harley if she stayed on…but it’s anyone’s guess if that will happen.”
“And what about Thomas’s father? Do they know yet if Bell had anything to do with his death?” Sue had been thinking about Thomas and his relationship with his father, and was hopeful their friend might find some sort of closure in all that had happened.
“Fred isn’t sure if we’ll ever know if Bell was involved in Gilbert’s death. Something might have come out if the case had gone to trial, but probably not now.” Charlie wagged his head. “Thomas, of course, is convinced Bell had something to do with it. But proving it in a court of law would be another matter.” Charlie slurped the rest of his coffee, kissed his wife on the forehead and headed to the shower, leaving Sue to ponder and fill in the gaps for herself.
~~~~~~
It was Harley Ponyboy himself who took Eileen May to the bus station in Farmington. He’d offered to drive her all the way to Utah and the little town outside Salt Lake where her aunt lived. She declined, saying it was better they not do that. “It would just make it that much harder,” she said.
Harley nodded. “Maybe i
n the fall…Eileen, after you are settled in…maybe then, I could come for a visit?”
“Maybe so, Harley. It’s not that far. I’ll be in touch…who knows…”
When the bus pulled up in a cloud of diesel fumes, Eileen picked up her shoulder bag and took out a Bible. “I want you to have this, Harley…you know…just in case you ever have need of one.”
They both smiled as Harley took the Bible and nodded thoughtfully. “What if you need it, Eileen? I’ll always have it should you want it back”
She smiled, “We’ll see Harley…we’ll see.” She leaned over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and turned to hand the driver her ticket.
On the bus, Eileen took a window seat and rummaged around in her bag for her transfer from Salt Lake to Seattle, Washington. It should be some cooler up there this time of year, she thought, as she turned to the window where Harley Ponyboy stood waving goodbye. She smiled and waved back. Poor Harley––he doesn’t know how lucky he is.
She fluffed up the tiny white pillow on the headrest thinking a short nap would be good. She hadn’t been able to sleep lately; she couldn’t get old Benny Klee, lying there dead in the mud, out of her mind.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R. Allen Chappell's work has appeared in magazines, literary and poetry publications, and been featured on public radio and television. He is the author of seven novels and a collection of short stories, Fat of the Land. All of his work is now available in seven different countries. He grew up in New Mexico, spent a good portion of his life at the edge of the great reservation, and still lives not so far from there.
For the curious, the author’s random thoughts on each book are listed below in the order of their release:
Navajo Autumn
It was not my original intent to write a series but this first book was so well received, and with so many readers asking for another, I finally decided to write a sequel—after that there was no turning back. I’m sure I made every mistake a writer can possibly make in a first novel, but I had the advantage of a dedicated little group of detractors, quick to point out its many deficiencies…and I thank them. Without their help, that first book would doubtless have languished, eventually sinking into the morass and there would be no series. The book has, over the years, been through many editions and updates. I know, now, how to make this an even better book and someday I might. But for now, I will leave it as it is. No book is perfect, and this one keeps me centered.
Boy Made of Dawn
A sequel I very much enjoyed writing and one that drew many new fans to the series. So many, in fact, I quit my day job to pursue writing these stories full-time—not a course I would ordinarily recommend to an author new to the process. In this instance, however, it proved to be the right move. As I learn, I endeavor to make each new book a little better…and to keep their prices low enough that people like me can afford to read them.
Ancient Blood
The third book in the series and the initial flight into the realm of Southwestern archaeology. This book introduced Harley Ponyboy: a character who quickly carved out a major niche for himself in all the stories that followed. Harley remains the favorite of reservation readers to this day. Also debuting in this novel was Professor George Armstrong Custer, noted archaeologist and Charlie Yazzie’s old professor at UNM. He, too, has a pivotal role in some of the later books.
Mojado
This book was a departure for the series in cover art, subject matter, and its move to thriller status on Amazon.com. A story built around a local tale heard in Mexico many years ago. In the first three months following release, this book sold more copies, and faster, than any of the previous books. It’s still a personal favorite of mine.
Magpie Speaks
A mystery/thriller that goes back to the beginning and exposes the past of several major characters some of which play pivotal roles in later books in the series. This book has become another favorite of Navajo friends who follow these stories.
Wolves of Winter
As our readership attained a solid position in the genre, I decided to tell the story I had, for many years, envisioned. I am pleased with its success on several levels, and in very different genres. I hope one day to revisit this story in one form or another.
The Bible Seller
Another cultural departure, in which Harley Ponyboy, once again, wrests away the starring role. A story of attraction and deceit told against a backdrop of wanton murder and reservation intrigue. It promises to be yet another Canyon-lands favorite.
From the Author
Readers may be pleased to know they can preview various audio book selections for the Navajo Nation Series on our book pages, also in public libraries, on Audible, and in many retail outlets. Kaipo Schwab, an accomplished actor and storyteller, narrates the audio books. I am pleased Kaipo felt these books worthy of his considerable talent.
There are more books in the planning stage and one already in progress. Happily, our reader base increases daily and all indicators remain positive for the series to continue with stories of our favorite denizens of the Navajo Nation. I hope you enjoy these adventures as much as I enjoy bringing them to you. We remain available to answer questions, and welcome your comments at: [email protected]
The author and his wife call Western Colorado home. From here in the High Desert, he continues to pursue a lifelong interest in the prehistory of the Four Corners region and its people.
If you’ve enjoyed this book, please consider going to our book page to leave a short review. It takes only a minute and would be most appreciated.
For more information check out our book pages https://www.amazon.com/R-Allen-Chappell/e/B00AVYI0RA/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Glossary
1. Adááníí –– undesirable, alcoholic
2. Acheii –– Grandfather *
3. Ashkii Ana’dlohi –– Laughing boy
4. A-hah-la’nih –– affectionate greeting*
5. Billigaana –– white people
6. Ch’ihónit’t –– a spirit path flaw in art.
7. Chindi –– (or chinde) Spirit of the dead *
8. Diné –– Navajo people
9. Diné Bikeyah –– Navajo country
10. Diyin dine’é ––Holy people
11. Hataalii –– Shaman (Singer)*
12. Hastiin –– (Hosteen) Man or Mr. *
13. hogan –– (Hoogahn) dwelling or house
14. Hozo –– To walk in beauty *
15. Ma’iitsoh –– Wolf
16. Shimásáni –– grandmother
17. Shizhé’é –– Father *
18. Tsé Bii’ Ndzisgaii –– Monument Valley
19. Yaa’ eh t’eeh –– Greeting; Hello
20. Yeenaaldiooshii –– Skinwalker; witch*
21. Yóó’a’hááskahh ––One who is lost
*See Notes
Notes
1. Aa’a’ii –– Long known as a trickster or “thief of little things.” It is thought Magpie can speak and sometimes brings messages from the beyond.
2. Acheii –– Grandfather. There are several words for Grandfather depending on how formal the intent and the gender of the speaker.
4. A-hah-la’nih –– A greeting: affectionate version of Yaa’ eh t’eeh, generally only used among family and close friends.
7. Chindi –– When a person dies inside a hogan, it is said that his chindi or spirit remains there forever, causing the hogan to be abandoned. Chindi are not considered benevolent entities. For the traditional Navajo, just speaking a dead person’s name may call up his chindi and cause harm to the speaker or others.
11. Hataalii –– Generally known as a “Singer” among the Diné, these men are considered “Holy Men” and have apprenticed to older practitioners sometimes for many years––to learn the ceremonies. They make the sand paintings that are an integral part of the healing and know the many songs that must be sung in the correct order.
11. Hastiin –– The literal trans
lation is “man” but is often considered the word for “Mr.” as well. “Hosteen” is the usual version Anglos use.
14. Hozo –– For the Navajo, “hozo” (sometimes hozoji) is a general state of well-being, both physical and spiritual, that indicates a certain “state of grace,” which is referred to as “walking in beauty.” Illness or depression is the usual cause of “loss of hozo,” which may put one out of sync with the people as a whole. There are ceremonies to restore hozo and return the ailing person to a oneness with the people.
15. Ma’iitsoh –– The Navajo Wolf is yet another reference to one of the many forms a witch can take, something like a werewolf in this instance.
18. Shizhé’é –– (or Shih-chai) There are several words for “Father,” depending on the degree of formality intended and sometimes even the gender of the speaker.
20. Yeenaaldiooshii –– These witches, as they are often referred to, are the chief source of evil or fear in traditional Navajo superstitions. They are thought to be capable of many unnatural acts, such as flying or turning themselves into werewolves and other ethereal creatures; hence the term Skinwalkers, referring to their ability to change forms or skins.
The Bible Seller: A Navajo Nation Mystery (Navajo Nation Mysteries Book 7) Page 19
