She sounded far away. “You’d gone back to New York by the time I found out. I was afraid, all alone on the Pueblo except for my family. My mother and grandmother told me to let you go. That you lived in your own world.” Her hands clenched the pillow so tight I thought I heard it scream.
“I could have been a part of your lives. If—”
“Would you have turned away from your wife and come back to us?” The pillow slid down. The pain on her face came into full view.
Dear god. “Yes, Nai’ya, I would have. That was three years before Holly and I met.”
“Oh.” She looked away. “I never expected to see you again. Then you showed up last April. I thought about telling you. I wanted to. I couldn’t. You’d been left all that money. You might have misunderstood.”
“Have a little faith in me.”
“I was afraid if I told you, I would lose you again.”
“Then you don’t know me.” I stood and walked to the window and looked into the darkness. “What does Angelina think of me?”
“She thinks her father died before she was born.”
I struggled to hold in all the emotions I felt like letting out. My hands trembled. I put them in my pockets. I couldn’t swallow. My stomach flipped. I leaned against the wall.
Neither of us spoke. Minutes must have passed before I turned around and looked at her lying there on the bed.
I actually think she expected me to hit her. “Please, don’t judge me,” she said. “Or Angelina.”
“I don’t want to judge anyone. I want to know the truth.”
She didn’t say anything, just drew farther away. I guess that was all the truth for tonight.
“Try to get some rest,” I said. “We can talk some more in the morning. Should I cover you up?”
Nai’ya’s head bobbed up and down just one time. I pulled the sheet over her and turned out the light on my way out of the room. I left the door open a crack.
The living room couch seemed the best place to come up with a plan. All I had to do was find a daughter I’d never met who didn’t know I existed.
I slumped forward and spotted the .45 on the bare floor near the edge of the carpet. I’d forgotten about it. Could the gun tie Angelina to the casino killing? I glanced across the room at her picture on the mantel and walked over. I studied her face and wondered what she might have looked like as a little girl. And wondered what I’d say to her if we ever met.
The picture frame was cheap and I gripped it too tightly in my hands. The wood sections in the upper right hand corner came apart. Everything was coming apart.
I didn’t see the envelope until I reached to put the damaged frame back on the mantel. No address on the front, just a hand-written Mom. I took out the single sheet of paper it held.
I have to go away for a while. I saw a man murdered in Mr. Klein’s office at the casino. They may come after me. Whatever you do, don’t go to the cops. I took a lot of money when I left. I’ll pick up Matty and disappear for a while. We’ll be back when it’s safe. Don’t you try to find me either. You might be followed. I can do this on my own.
I love you.
Angelina
I knocked softly on the bedroom door and pushed it open. “Who’s Matty?”
Nai’ya looked at me and then looked away. “Our grandson.”
“Of course.” I sat back down at the bottom of the bed.
“He’s six years old. So handsome. He has your eyes.”
“Don’t.” I ran my hand along the bed sheet. “So where is my son-in-law? And don’t tell me he’s some college professor from back east.” Shit, why did I say that?
Nai’ya let my cruel remark pass. “Angelina’s husband John was military. He’s MIA in Afghanistan. It’s been more than four years now.”
Her words shamed me. The Old Gabe would look to kill a bottle right about now. Instead, I leaned forward and placed the letter on Nai’ya’s pillow. “You need to turn this over to the police.”
“No!” She grabbed the envelope and stuffed it beneath her pillow.
“It’s evidence in a murder investigation. The police need it to understand Angelina had nothing to do with any murder. Right now, all they know is a man’s been killed and she’s run away. And before too long they’ll find out about the money she took.”
She stubbornly shook her head. “Angelina said not to go to the cops.”
“They can protect her. Matty too. If you keep that letter from Archuleta and he finds out, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Sam Archuleta?”
“He’s in charge of this case.”
She nodded and let out a deep breath. “Good. Sam would understand why I’m keeping the letter.”
“Don’t bet on it. He’s a cop first, last, and always. Let the police know. Let them help find Angelina and Matty.”
“I won’t betray my daughter.” Her demeanor recalled the words of my great-grand uncle James A. McKenna: Don’t ever mess with a mama bear.
This was useless. I gave up and moved away from her. “I’ll come to bed later.”
Nai’ya’s bleary red eyes pleaded with me. “I know you won’t let us down.”
I could have uttered some empty words of reassurance. Instead, I grabbed my bathrobe from the closet and shut the bedroom door behind me.
In the half-bath off the kitchen, I filled the sink with cold water that I splashed over my head. My anxiety didn’t wash away.
I changed into the bathrobe and walked through fog to the living room. I picked up the .45 and stuffed it into my pocket. I had lots to say, but it would keep until morning.
Nai’ya stored her liquor on the bottom shelf of a credenza next to the television. I gave both of the little guys on my shoulders equal time. I really did.
Then I got up and fetched a clean glass from the kitchen. Just one small whiskey. One.
CHAPTER SIX
An overturned glass lay on the coffee table less than a foot from my head. An empty whiskey bottle stood accusingly nearby. A dead fly lay on his back next to the bottle, both feet in the air, its wings spread wide and still. I wondered if anyone had notified his family.
The walls pulsed and contracted like an old respiratory bellow behind a dying patient’s hospital bed. No. That’s my head. Sunlight oozed around the edges of the front window blinds and abused my eyes. The doorbell rang.
“Nai’ya?” I lifted my head and called her name a second time. She didn’t respond.
I dragged my body off the couch and staggered to the front door. Once the dead bolt and chain were off, I peered out into a brightness that hurt.
Lieutenant Sam Archuleta looked me up and down. “Jeezus. Gabe McKenna, Man of Many Surprises.” He crushed his cigarette butt into the porch’s concrete floor.
I moved forward until my body filled as much of the doorway as it could. “Sam Archuleta, the cop who doesn’t like surprises.”
“Not when I’m working. May I come in?” He pointed past me into Nai’ya’s living room.
“The lady of the house is still asleep. Can we talk out here?”
“She’s the one I came to see.” He pointed inside again.
“Knock yourself out.” I backed off and let him brush past me.
He cast a policeman’s eye around the room, walked to the couch and gazed down at the coffee table. “Where’s your club soda?”
No use pretending. I picked up the empty glass and whiskey bottle and headed for the kitchen. “Coffee?” I asked in a loud over-the-shoulder whisper.
“I’ve had mine, thanks.”
I set the empty glass in the sink, the bottle on the counter, and looked back over my shoulder. Archuletta stood in the living room facing away from me. I slipped the .45 from my bathrobe pocket and stuffed it toward the back of the utensil drawer. Then I strolled with affected nonchalance back to the lieutenant.
He stood by the fireplace mantel, one finger tracing the framed photo of my daughter.
“Lovely girl.”
“Angelina.”
“Got any idea where she is? I have a few questions.”
“No.”
“Then you’d better wake up your sweetheart. Angelina is her daughter.” He paused. A look of surprise came over his face. “Or didn’t you know?”
“I know. She’s my daughter, too. Anything you want to ask Nai’ya, you ask me.”
By now Sam’s eyebrows had merged with his widow’s peak. He reached into his pocket for a Camel and sighed. “That’s another surprise, Gabe.”
“Life is so full of them.”
He lit up. “So how come you never told me about your family?” He paced a Great Circle Route around the living room and ended up back at the fireplace. “Been supporting them all these years? Good for you.”
A faint rustling sound came from the kitchen. Sam’s gaze darted in that direction.
“Let me get you an ashtray. Be right back.” I hustled out of the room.
The kitchen was empty. I had no idea if Nai’ya had any ashtrays or where she might keep them. I checked the cupboards.
Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway. He watched me fumble through the rest of the cabinets. “Maybe in one of these drawers?” He opened and shut the one closest to him. “Nope.” His hand moved to the utensil drawer and slid it open.
“Sam—”
“Nothing here either.” He flicked his ash into the sink. “I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”
I loosened my grip on the countertop. “What do you want to know about Angelina?”
“I want to speak to Nai’ya. And I don’t have all morning. Wake her up.”
I shuffled down the hall to the bedroom. The door was shut. “Nai’ya?”
Still no response.
I opened the door. Sam peered around me. The light was off, but enough sunlight made it through the blinds to give us a dim view of the room.
The bed was empty, the door to the master bath ajar. The fluorescent ceiling light above the sink flickered a bit, the way it often does on cold days. I edged past the bed to the bathroom door. A dark green towel lay crumpled on the floor. The medicine cabinet was open.
Sam called from behind me. “You got a problem in there, Gabe?”
“You might say that.”
He walked into the bedroom and flicked on the overhead light.
“She’s not here,” I said. “I have no idea where she could have gone, or when.”
Maybe he saw the fear in my eyes. In any case, his tone softened. “Look, I didn’t come here to pry into your personal life. You and I, we’ve been on the square most of the time. But I have to talk to Nai’ya if we’re going to find your daughter. Now where is she?”
“I have no idea. Honest.”
“Let’s start again. When was the last time you saw her?”
“About nine-thirty last night.”
He looked confused. “Not this morning?”
“I’m telling you, she was asleep. Right there.” I pointed to the bed.
“Okay, okay. Then when did you last see or speak with your daughter?”
I cringed inside. “I’ve never seen or spoken to her. Not even once.”
He glanced at the empty bed and then back down the hallway toward the living room. “You just found out. You didn’t know about her until last night.”
I slumped down onto the bed.
“I saw the bottle—”
“Yeah.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry, Gabe.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I’m going to break the rules here. Tell you what we know so far. You have a right to that much.”
He stepped into the bathroom. A cigarette hissed under running water and the toilet flushed. He came back to the bedroom empty handed. “How about we go back to the living room?”
I wanted to get rid of him and look for Nai’ya. But I knew Sam. The harder I tried to get him to leave, the longer he would stay. “Sure you don’t want a cup of coffee?”
“Some water maybe?”
I moved into the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap. I glanced at the utensil drawer on my way to the living room. Closed.
Sam sipped the water and paced the room as I sat on the edge of the couch. He told me what he could.
“Two nights ago, a man was shot and killed inside the owner’s office at the Pueblo-66 Casino. A .45 slug to his brain.”
I didn’t want to give anything away so I kept my head down. “Saw that on the news.”
“Your daughter’s desk is in an office one door down the hallway.”
I nodded like I knew.
“Surveillance cameras caught Angelina Harper running out of the owner’s office moments after the shooting. We also have video of her removing money from the office safe a few minutes later. The outdoor cameras show her running to her car carrying a dark bag and then driving off at a high rate of speed. This is shortly after midnight. Night before last.”
“That doesn’t mean she had anything to do with the killing.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you see why I have to question her. There’s an APB out. She hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”
Angelina was in deeper than I’d figured.
“This is murder, Gabe. If you hear from Nai’ya or Angelina, I expect you to contact me.”
I stared at the floor. Sam put a hand on my shoulder. “I have a daughter myself. And I have some idea what must be going through your head right now. Just don’t get any crazy ideas about getting involved. Promise me you’ll let the police handle this.”
“I can’t.”
He took out another cigarette and slipped it unlit between his lips. “Gabe, you’ve been told. Keep in touch. I’ll do the same.”
I followed him to the door and stood there until he got into his car. He spoke to somebody on the police radio and lit up. He started the engine and drove away with smoke billowing from his exhaust and the driver’s side window.
Pigeons scuttled on the metal roof of Nai’ya’s front porch. A young girl rode by on her bicycle. I closed the door and dashed back to the kitchen to see how Sam could have missed the .45 in the utensil drawer. The gun wasn’t there.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I checked everywhere. The closets, under the bed, even the crawl spaces. Nai’ya wasn’t there.
Outside, I checked the patio, the yard, the area behind the garage, and the adjoining lots. Nothing. I ran to the front yard. The little girl on her bike rode past again. She pointed at my bathrobe and laughed.
Nai’ya’s car remained in the driveway. I punched in the code numbers on the garage door keypad. The door lifted and sunlight spilled inside. Her Diamondback mountain bike was gone and the far-side door left ajar.
I sagged against the wall. Think, man, think. I charged back into the house. My cellphone was in the pocket of my jacket on a living room chair. Nothing in my call log. I speed-dialed Nai’ya’s UNM office. No answer. The phone system connected me to the office secretary.
“Professor Alonso-Riley’s office.”
“Mary, this is Gabe McKenna. I need to reach Nai’ya. It’s important.”
“She called in ten minutes ago, all upset. She canceled all her classes for the rest of the week.”
“Did she say where she was?”
“No. She said a family emergency had come up. Professor McKenna, what’s wrong?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Call me back if you hear from her.” I gave Mary my cell and home numbers.
“Will do. And—”
“What?” I said.
“I’m worried about her. Please call me if there’s anything I can do. I’ll pray for her.”
Good old Mary.
Nai’ya’s other office was at the Laguna Pueblo Education Center, a forty-five-minute drive. I left a message:
“It’s Gabe. Call me when you get this. Everything’s going to be all right. We can do this without the cops. I love you.”
Nine-thirty. Rebecca would be at the house by now.
She answered my ca
ll right away. “No, Nai’ya hasn’t called. Was she supposed to?”
“She’s disappeared.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you about it when I get there. I’m coming right over.”
“Please. We have a problem with Sergeant Crawford.”
“Shit. Did the work crew show up?”
“They did, but Crawford sent them all home.”
“He had no right to do that!”
“He’s out in the barn with a bunch of other cops. Said he needs to speak to you as soon as you get here.”
“Give me half an hour.”
“The coffee’s on.”
“Add a shot of whiskey to mine.”
“Gabe?”
“Bye.”
I took a one-minute shower and put on clean clothes from the hall closet Nai’ya let me use.
One of the cop cars in my driveway sounded its horn when I drove up. Crawford had them watching for me. He bulled his way across the front lawn and intercepted me before I got to the front porch.
“McKenna, what’s the big idea putting those men back to work? This is a crime scene.”
“This is my home.”
“Figured you might see it that way.” He poked me in the chest. “Listen smart guy, I have authorization to dig up every foot of your barn.”
“Says who?”
“Deputy Chief Cornejo. You got a beef, you take it up with him.” He spat on the ground again.
“What’s the point of digging everything up?”
“The point is, we found a body yesterday. Maybe you got others. And we got probable cause to find out.” He took a folded document out of his coat pocket. He waved it in my face and stuffed it into my hand. “That’s a court order. Go ahead. Take it to that lawyer of yours. Waste your money. See if I care.”
“I will. And if you go one step beyond what’s authorized, I’ll report you.” I jammed the paper into my jacket pocket.
Crawford parked his bulk in front of my nose and blocked my exit. “You’re nothing to me, McKenna. Get in my way and I’ll bust you good.”
For a split-second I weighed the cost of assaulting a police officer against the immense satisfaction of landing a straight right to one of his chins. But I swallowed that, turned around and stomped into my house instead.
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