Wolves of Winter: A Navajo Nation Mystery

by R. Allen Chappell

  Charlie hadn’t realized he was holding his breath, and let it out with a sigh, as he motioned Paul to continue.

  “Danny Hat was paying for the drugs with artifacts, pottery mostly, from the ruins the road crew was plowing up. That’s why only he and Karl Hoffman operated the bulldozer. Luanne said they stayed in advance of the crew and Hoffman was good at what he was doing, knew how to skim off the top layers, and leave the good stuff more accessible.” Paul grimaced, “I’m sure they ruined a lot, but they did most of their work on weekends, after the crew went home, and were probably able to salvage a good bit.” The old man settled his hat back on his head, giving the brim a good tug this time to fix it in place. “I think Luanne might be wrong about her mother not knowing what Danny and her were doing. Martha Keyoni is no fool and she has ears everywhere.” The singer then stood, indicating he was through talking and had said what he came to say.

  After Paul T’Sosi left, Charlie sat trying to put it all together in his mind. He was now convinced there was a link between Danny’s death and the two murders. He thought he would have to pay Luanne a call and he would take Harley Ponyboy along too, just so everyone would be on the same page. He would have to talk to Police Captain John Beyale about the Ute Jimmy John.

  ~~~~~~

  Sue Yazzie had spent nearly an hour talking to Lucy Tallwoman before she realized Charlie would be home soon and there was still dinner to make. Now that she and Lucy both had phones they thought it silly not to use them. Not many other people they knew had phones, so for the most part they talked only to each other. Lucy pointed out the fact that those phones cost the same no matter how many people were talked to, or for how long, so they might as well get some good out of them. She was a practical woman and generally frugal, though of late her income had risen to the point she had become more generous with herself. Her loom was now in the living room of the new house and she could talk and weave at the same time. But, she said, using her shoulder to hold the receiver was giving her a crick in her neck. Between the two of them they thought they had pretty much wormed out all the information their husbands knew concerning the recent murders. Suppositions still flew hot and heavy as the pair heated up the phone lines. One thing the women did not yet know was the latest on Luanne Keyoni’s problems, and Charlie didn’t intend for them to know either.

  Sue heard Charlie’s truck drive up, looked out the kitchen window and said, “Crap.”

  Three-year old Joseph Wiley also said “Cwap” though he didn’t look up when he said it. He was pushing a plastic truck across the floor while listening to his mother talk, and had already added several new words to his vocabulary.

  Sue Yazzie frowned down at him, but thought it counterproductive to say anything fearing it would only make things worse.

  Charlie stopped to feed the horses, and by the time he came in, Sue was in a flurry of activity between the stove and sink.

  “Running a little late here… Dinner in thirty minutes.”

  Charlie nodded and picked up his son. “Hey, buddy, how’s that new truck working?”

  “Cwap.” Was all the boy could think to say about the truck.

  Charlie looked across the kitchen at Sue. “Where’d he get that?”

  “Beats me, maybe something on the TV. You should hear what some of these cartoon characters are saying these days, even makes me blush sometimes.”

  Charlie nodded again, thoughtfully this time, “Talked to Lucy Tallwoman today?”

  “Oh, for just a minute. Can you watch this chorizo and eggs for a second? There’s clothes in the washer and I need to get them out before I forget and they sour.”

  “Sure. Burritos for supper?” Charlie liked egg and chorizo burritos but thought they went better for breakfast than supper. He noticed the phone, slightly ajar on its cradle and put it to his ear; the earpiece was still warm but no one was on the line. The phone and the TV were a part of their lives now, a bigger part than Charlie had intended. The TV antenna had taken him and Thomas Begay nearly a half-day to put up and they only got four channels, but two of the channels had cartoons in the afternoon and he felt there was no harm in letting Joseph Wiley watch a few from time to time.

  Thomas had told them, “You’re lucky, we only get two channels out at our house and only one has cartoons. The kids aren’t happy about that. Harley doesn’t get any channels… And Harley likes cartoons too.”

  When Sue came back to tend the dinner, Charlie got down on the floor with his son and showed him again how to operate the dump bed on his truck.

  “So, anything new on those killings?” Sue tried to sound disinterested, just making conversation, but she turned one ear to catch his answer and was disappointed when he went on playing with the boy.

  She was about to ask again but decided to wait. She knew she could push Charlie only so far. He was holding back something important. She was certain of it.

  Charlie looked up and grinned. “I told you that was all privileged information. But no, there’s really nothing new as yet.”

  “Well, Lucy Tallwoman says her father was in to see you this afternoon. What was that all about? She said Danny Hat’s sister Luanne came out to their place yesterday, too, but that Paul wouldn’t say what she wanted.”

  Charlie didn’t look up this time, only said, “Hmmm,” as he went on making an engine sound and pushing the toy truck around the floor. Joseph Wiley tried to make the sound as well but couldn’t seem to get it right. Charlie looked at him a moment before turning toward the stove. “He can say ‘crap’ clear as a bell, but he can’t make an engine noise?”

  Sue shrugged, and began rolling burritos and stacking a platter. “Okay, it’s ready, put him up at the table, and watch that highchair––that back leg you said you were going to fix is still wobbly, and it’s getting worse too.”

  Charlie wiggled the chair back and forth before plopping the boy in it, then wiggled it again and said, “It’s not bad. I’ll try and get to it this weekend if I have time.”

  “Maybe if he falls out on his head you can find time.” Sue didn’t bother hiding her irritation.

  Charlie looked across the table at her, took the saucer of scrambled egg and chorizo for Joseph Wiley’s tray and barely caught the tortilla she tossed at him. “What’s up” The washer didn’t crap out again did it?”

  Before Sue could answer, the baby grabbed up a handful of the burrito filling, held it out to Charlie and said, “Crap,” clear as a bell.

  “You see there! That’s where he gets it!” Sue was on a roll and determined to get her husband’s attention regardless of consequence.

  Charlie calmly picked up a burrito and began eating, thinking his wife must have a good reason to be so out of sorts, it had been happening on a regular basis lately, but he couldn’t fathom the cause of it. It just wasn’t like her. The last time this had happened was when she was pregnant and worried about witches and such. She had been talking to Lucy Tallwoman a good bit lately, and he wondered if she had somehow gotten caught up in some new phase of her friend’s more traditional life; some perceived threat perhaps. Sue would not have come to him with that, as she knew very well what his views on the subject were. That only left one other reason.

  10

  The Interrogation

  Harley Ponyboy stared straight ahead but watched Charlie Yazzie from the corner of his eye and grew a little nervous as they drew closer to Luanne’s place. Charlie had not said a whole lot for the last few miles but there was something in his manner that made Harley suspect he had reason to be upset with him.

  At the camp Luanne shared with her mother and stepfather, there first seemed to be no one home. The only vehicle was a Ford truck that had obviously seen better days and had not been moved for a while.

  Charlie stopped his truck a short distance from the hogan and looked past the brush arbor to the camp trailer. There was someone at the window Harley thought was Luanne. She came outside and fixed him with a steady gaze, which caused him to color as he hurri
ed to get down from the Chevy. Charlie followed, and the three of them met in front of the summer hogan. The shelter had several gaps in the brush roof, and was in obvious need of repair. Luanne led them into the shade, where she indicated a derelict car seat opposite two kitchen chairs. She then stood with folded arms and waited for them to speak first.

  Harley forced a smile. “How you been Luanne? Me and Charlie was just passing by and thought we would stop and talk a little. You probably already know Charlie’s with Legal Services.” He turned to the investigator. “He has a couple questions about Danny.”

  Luanne stood waiting and while she did not appear worried, she didn’t seem happy to see them either.

  Charlie cleared his throat and put on a smile. “Luanne, I see you now and then at the Co-op but you’re generally too busy to talk.”

  “I’m busy right now.” Luanne said as she moved to one of the chairs and sat down…and waited.

  Charlie shrugged. “We’ll only be a minute, just a few things I’d like to clear up…won’t take a minute.” He really hadn’t taken much notice of Luanne these last few years and was surprised how she had aged. She was heavier now, looking tired and somewhat dark around the eyes. She had been quite a pretty girl when he’d first met her and it saddened him somehow to see her like this.

  Luanne looked up at the brush roof as though taking note of the damage for the first time…maybe figuring what it might take to fix it. When she returned her gaze to the two she sounded irritated, “Billy Red Clay and the FBI were both out here already. Don’t you guys talk? I don’t know anything I haven’t already told them.” She looked down at her nearly new sneakers and bent to brush a piece of dried mud from one.

  “Well, then maybe we can talk about you Luanne. Harley says you have a little problem left over from Danny’s bigger problems.” It wasn’t what Charlie had meant to say, but it was close.

  Harley shot a sharp glance at Charlie Yazzie and frowned, he hadn’t expected this.

  The woman looked thoughtfully over at Harley Ponyboy before turning back to the investigator, “I’m guessing you talked to Paul T’Sosi, too.”

  Charlie didn’t bother denying this, instead brushed past it, “It’s not like it’s a secret, Luanne. People know what you and Danny were doing and have for some time––I didn’t have to look far to find them either.” Charlie’s voice became gentler, “At this point we’re more interested in getting you some help, than we are fixing blame. I’m not here to cause you trouble Luanne.” He pointed toward Harley. “Harley here’s like me, worried, and wants to do what’s best for you. You’ve known Harley a long time…you know how he is.”

  Harley interrupted, “I didn’t say nothin’ Luanne.” Then looked at Charlie in a way that caused the investigator a twinge of guilt.

  Luanne took a deep breath, and when she let it out, her face relaxed and she closed her eyes as she nodded. “I don’t know what more I can tell you that I haven’t already said?”

  “I’m interested in what you might have heard Danny say about a man named William Crawley? He’s said to have come by the construction site from time to time…talked to Hoffman and James Erdric. He may have something to do with a ‘contract archaeology company,’ clearing sites along the new highway.” He paused and said, “Danny might have called them ‘salvage operators’ or some such a thing.”

  Luanne looked from one to the other trying to figure what they were really after, but finally nodded. “I don’t recall Danny ever mentioning any William Crawley. But he did mention an archaeology outfit. He said they were not really a company at all. They were James Erdric’s buyers for the things taken from the ruins. A ‘fence’ Danny called them. He said they were the money people. Danny wasn’t part of that inner circle. He only did what Hoffman told him.” She gave Harley a meaningful look before turning to Charlie. “I heard about that little set-to between Hoffman and Billy Red Clay.” She stopped and a shudder ran through her. “Hoffman was a hard man––told Danny he would kill him if he ever talked to anyone about their business. That’s probably why he didn’t want Billy Red Clay to take him in.” Her eyes filled. “Danny? He was in way over his head. He was scared to death our mother would catch wind of what he was doing…not just the drugs…but robbing what she calls, ‘our ancestral sites.’ My poor mother is convinced those people are our ancestors. She said she hears them calling for our help.” Luanne grimaced. “She’s big into Hopi religion…and politics, more so than when she was young. Her husband back then, Danny’s father, was a secret member of some Indian rights group and fought for the Repatriation Act. She’s been thinking about going back to the Hopi, maybe run for council even.” She sniffed, “My father would never go to live with the Hopi. He’s put up with plenty just for marrying her, he won’t go.”

  “What do you think, Luanne? Are those people calling to you too?” Charlie couldn’t help but wonder. Was she torn between the two cultures like her mother?

  “Me? Naa, not me, or Danny neither, we didn’t care one way or the other what happened to those ruins…or the people who built them. I don’t think those people were anything like the Hopi are now.”

  Charlie sat back in his seat and didn’t know what to think; Luanne needed help all right, maybe more than he’d first thought.

  She saw what was going through his mind and standing up, looked down the road to the highway. “My mother and dad will be home from work any time now. I would rather you two not be here when they come.” She gave a flip of her hair, “I’m tired of all these questions anyway. Nothing’s going to bring Danny back.”

  Harley stood, suddenly anxious to be away, and waited until Charlie also came to his feet before saying, “Luanne, I’m really sorry we bothered you with this. It won’t happen again.” He gave Charlie a hard look, and with a push of his lips toward the truck, indicated it was time to go.

  Charlie, still deep in thought, only nodded to Luanne as she was left standing in front of the arbor, not looking at them, but gazing beyond the mesas to some place she thought she’d rather be. Harley stood a moment, a little distance from the woman, trying to think of something to say that might help but couldn’t. Charlie Yazzie was just hanging up the microphone when Harley climbed back in the truck and sat staring through the dirt streaked windshield.

  ~~~~~~

  Harley Ponyboy and Charlie Yazzie were nearly to the Colorado line before either of them said a word. Charlie knew he had hurt his friend’s feelings by putting him on the spot with Luanne. But felt he had only done what he thought was needed and didn’t apologize.

  The investigator was first to speak, “I’ll do everything I can to see Luanne gets help.” Charlie was not without influence when it came to the various tribal agencies, and intended to go out of his way for Luanne. He would do whatever he could.

  Up until this point Harley had avoided looking at him, but now turned to regard the tribal investigator in a slightly different light. “That would be good, Charlie; she could use the help. She’s a good person down deep. Her brother’s death hit them all hard and it may take them a while to get over it.”

  Charlie looked up the road as they crossed what he thought might be the state-line. Someday, he figured there would be a sign to mark the place. Someone was always drawing lines across this country, dividing it up––making plats, and writing pieces of paper, deeds. All to prove ownership of something no one can own. No one owned this land in the beginning, and he doubted anyone would own it in the end. It would someday be as trackless and wild as when humans followed the first wooly mammoth across the Bering Straits. The professor was right; there were no Native Americans, only immigrants, some earlier, some later, but immigrants all.

  Those who came first claimed only what they could hold, either by tenacity, physical endurance, or by force of arms. That was how they came by these lands and later, how they lost them. When the Europeans came they called it “Manifest Destiny,” a term they thought might justify the unjustifiable…if only to themselves. But it
had been going on long before that, the strong displacing the weak, and in turn being displaced by others. Man has always wanted to brand things he covets, own them so to speak. Some things won’t hold a brand. Charlie believed this wild country was one of those things.

  “I guess were going on up to that Ute’s place… Jimmy John, is it?” Harley thought it the wrong thing to do, but knew it was useless to say so.

  “Yes, Jimmy John. There’s something that didn’t make sense that day James Erdric was killed. Jimmy John seemed way too anxious to please. Utes aren’t known for cooperating with the authorities, and especially not with Navajo lawmen…at least that’s been my experience.”

  “So what makes you think he’s going to talk to you…on his own place, and in Colorado?”

  “Oh, he’ll talk to me all right… I’m almost sure of it.”

  Harley shook his head. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Well I know a little something now…something I didn’t know until I talked to Captain Beyale this morning. He’d sent for a record of Jimmy John’s Colorado priors…there were several interesting similarities––not in the charges, but in the arrests themselves, now I know how to go about talking to him.”

  Charlie seemed to assume a different persona as he reached for his Stetson and pulled it down tight. “Sun’s in my eyes.” He said.

  Jimmy John, along with several other men, were horseback, working a set of calves through a chute for inoculation and ear tags. The Ute saw Charlie’s official truck coming from quite a distance and for just a moment it crossed his mind he ought to make a break for it. But he didn’t, not in front of these younger relatives who still looked up to him. He was Uncle to two or three of them and they would think poorly of him if he ran.