by Sue Hardesty
As she was pulling herself together, someone pounded on her window. Loni whipped her head around, staring at a moon-faced teenage girl, shrieking at her. Coco whirled around, barking and growling. Shushing her, Loni pushed open the door and jumped out. "Jesus, kid, are you crazy? I almost killed you."
"Help us! Please help us!" the girl begged.
"What's wrong?"
"My father!" The girl's voice raised another three notes. "He kidnapped us!" She pulled on Loni's shirt front, trying to drag her toward the motel across the street.
"Hold on." Loni pried the girl's strong fingers off her shirt before she popped the buttons, especially as she was braless. "We need to talk about this," Loni said. After arm-waving and short words back and forth, Loni talked the girl into her SUV and drove them around to the side of the motel in sight of the room. "What's your name?" The girl was shaking so badly, a shadow reflected from the streetlamp danced beside Loni.
"Pamela Rodriguez."
"Pamela, how many are in the room with your dad?"
"My mom, my sister, her two kids." Pamela spoke in spurts and stutters.
"Where are they?"
"He handcuffed my mom to him in one bed and my sister and me to the other headboard. But he forgot how double jointed I am." She lifted her arm, showing Loni her small hand. "I slipped out of the cuffs when my sister went to sleep." Her voice tightened, making it difficult for Loni to understand her.
"Where are the little ones?" Loni wanted to keep her talking.
"On the floor next to my sister."
"How old are the kids?"
"Five. They're twins," Pamela said mournfully.
"If your dad wakes up, will he see you're gone?"
"I don't think so. He passed out." Pamela broke down, crying.
Loni spoke into her shoulder mike. "Bobby. Family kidnapping at Caliente Motel."
"Want a SWAT team?"
"I think you better. And a negotiator. A divorced father with a gun. Wife, daughter, and two five-year olds. He's drinking." Loni hung up. "Did you understand?"
The girl nodded, wiping tears and snot on the hem of her gown. "How long?"
"Hour or two before they set up. It's up to your dad and the negotiator after that."
Pamela began to keen. "Why can't you go in now?"
"Look at me." Loni lifted the girl's face, turning it toward her. "Pamela, look at me!" Loni waited until the girl's eyes focused on her. "Do you think your dad would hurt anyone who tried to stop him?"
The girl nodded.
"He's scared, and he's desperate. We need to talk him out, okay?"
Pamela nodded again.
Loni wanted to take the girl somewhere safe, but the father could blow out of there any minute. "Tell me what happened."
The girl's voice began to calm, but Loni could hear the quiver of fear in her voice. "My folks got divorced, and my dad showed yesterday, drunk again." She stopped and pulled at Loni's arm. "Please. Can't we go in now?"
"Soon," Loni promised. "Tell me the rest."
"He forced us into my mother's car." The girl rattled the sentence out in one breath as her hands rubbed up and down her bare arms. Her hair fell across her face, hiding her mouth.
Loni had to lean toward her to understand her words. "Where's your brother-in-law?"
"At work."
"Where do you live?"
"Los Angeles." She started keening again. "Can't we go home now?"
"In a little while. Where is he taking you?"
"A long way below Mexico City. He said none of us could ever get back." The girl gulped a deep breath. She rocked back and forth. "Mama shook her head when I snuck out. Did I do wrong?"
"No, no," Loni reassured her. "You did good." She took her hand, trying to comfort her. The girl was so agitated that she couldn't sit still. "Tell me about the little ones." Loni kept her talking about her life in LA until the SWAT team from Tucson quietly pulled up behind her. She glanced at her watch in amazement. They had made it in less than an hour.
Loni left Pamela in the SUV and trotted back to the van. She repeated Pamela's story and returned to her SUV, quietly driving out of the way as the SWAT team converged on the dark motel room.
* * *
Loni raided the lounge at the police station for an apple and a bottle of water and took them to Pamela. She draped a light blanket around Pamela's shoulders and across her bare feet, hoping to help her shivering. It wasn't long before the SWAT team dragged her father in for booking. The girl spit on him as he shuffled by, acting like a whipped dog.
Pamela was a different girl when Loni drove her back to the motel where the others waited for her. Demanding clothes, hairbrush and food, she buzzed like a cicada around a yellow light. Remembering how insecure she was as a teenager, Loni envied the girl her take charge, independent attitude. She was changing her clothes in the backseat and talking loudly as the car started off on the long ride back to LA.
Loni sat watching down the highway long after the car had disappeared, but she no longer wanted to follow them. When did that change?
* * *
Back at the station just in time for the task force meeting, Loni saw a young girl knocking on the door. She had the round face, almond shaped eyes, and the light, chocolate colored skin of a Pima. Reaching around her, Loni buzzed to get in. She pulled the door open, asking the girl her name. "Como se llama?"
The girl shook her head. She was so tiny that Loni couldn't figure out her age. Her clean, full skirted dress was yellow with large red polka dots, and her rubber flip flops were covered with sequins.
Her eyes darted around as Loni held the door open for her. "Por favor, entra." Loni nodded toward Lola behind the booking counter. "Lola le ayudara."
The girl slowly followed Loni up to the desk.
"Hey, Lola." Loni nodded to the girl. "Maybe she'll tell you what she wants."
As she headed into Chief's conference room, she could hear Lola's soothing voice comforting the young girl.
Loni sat next to Carl, waiting for him to start. He stood, waiting for Tully to shut up. Tully's scraggly beard quivered as he muttered to himself about a computer problem before he stared back at Carl. A careful expression on his craggy face, Carl started the meeting. "Tully. Got anything?"
"Like what?"
Disgusted, Carl stared at Tully a few seconds. "Here's what I want you to do, Tully. Ask around who visited at the couple's house, talk to the neighbors, check phone calls in and out, find who they hung out with that needs to be interviewed. And do it now." Carl waited for Tully to finally get up out of his chair. Taking his time to pick up his papers, Tully sighed a couple of times before he ambled out the door. Carl turned to Loni. "The fingerprint from the valve is not in the criminal system. They said they would keep searching. You find any drugs yesterday?"
"No," Loni told Carl with a heavy heart. "The illegals were clean."
Carl nodded. "See you tomorrow."
Thinking about Bahb's and Shiichoo's troubles, Loni beat Carl out the door, hoping the fax on Bahb's missing mother cows had shown up. The young Pima girl was frantically trying to make Lola understand her. It wasn't until Lola looked at Loni in total frustration that she began to hear what the girl was saying. "Mua at g Gaso g Chuk Baha ab e-kih-ab g wainomikaj." She shook her finger at Lola.
"She said somebody killed a man named Blue at his house. Or her house. I'm not sure which," Loni interjected and turned to the girl. "Kut heDai I mua g Chuk Baha?"
"Gaso! Gaso!"
"Says someone named Fox killed him."
"Ask her where he lives," Lola told Loni.
"Bah' o kih g Gaso?"
"T wo I men g Gaso."
"Says Fox will run. He's probably already gone." Loni turned back to the girl. "Heg at wo I gei, heDai I meDk."
The girl stared at Loni. "I really hate a smart ass," she said in perfect English and hurried out the door.
Loni looked at Lola and sputtered, "Guess her English is fine." Loni walked to the door
to see if the girl was in view. "She's Pima. Better call the cops on the Gila Reservation. It's their jurisdiction."
"What did you say to her?"
"It's an old Pima truism: 'He will fall who runs.'"
"What do you suppose she really wanted?" Lola wondered.
"My guess is she's afraid of reservation cops. Whatever went down, she wanted somebody to know who did it, and she didn't want to be involved."
Lola grinned at Loni's shrug. "First it was Spanish. You understand O'odham, too?"
"Just some words like yes, no, sit, move your butt, or eat shit."
"Sounds like you're a fine communicator."
Loni shrugged. "Pointing is good, too."
"Good thing Papago and Pima are both O'odham."
"The Pimas I know mostly speak Spanish. Sometimes it's easier to talk to Willie than Bahb," Loni explained.
"He doesn't know English?"
"Not like Shiichoo. She was forced to go to the Indian boarding school when she was really little. Bahb managed to escape that hellhole until he was in his teens." Leaning on the counter, Loni tried to recall Bahb's voice. "Shiichoo made sure he learned enough English to get by, so it's pretty broken." Loni smiled. "Shiichoo understands O'odham better than she speaks it. She knows a bit of Apache. They both know Spanish."
"Do they talk to each other in mixed languages?"
Smiling at an image in her mind, Loni tried to explain. "Sometimes I've heard them rattling words off to each other, and I swear they don't have a clue what the other's saying." Loni laughed. "I asked Shiichoo about it one time. She said 'I watch his body language to see how well I'm doing.' So," Loni stood, "anything for me?"
"They ID'd your fingerprints from the windmill." Lola answered. "Here's the fax."
Loni stared down at the face of Calvin Miller. "I think he was in my freshman class in high school. I don't remember him after that." Loni looked up at Lola's concerned face. "What!"
Lola shrugged. "I used to date his brother. Hope he's not involved."
Loni was surprised at how much Lola's admission pierced her. "Which one?"
"J.R."
"I'm sorry." Loni was afraid she had upset her. "What happened?"
"Nothing. Other than he was really a bore. Nice. But boring."
"Well, there's a lot of that around."
"If he's part of this, you should look to his old man. His attitude toward Mexicans was really sick. He's one mean sonofabitch."
"I'll do what I can, Lola. Don't know what though." Loni checked the fax again. "This his right address?"
"Far as I know."
* * *
An hour later, Loni, Bahb, and Willie were on a desert road, driving in the ruts between barbwire fences. She had picked them up in her truck, and it took her a full half hour to get them to stop giving her a hard time about the climb into her truck, nose bleeds from altitude, and the rough ride. "Those fences remind me of the way you tried to teach me to drive, Bahb," she said, trying to get them to talk about something else. "You put me in that old pickup and said, 'Just keep it between the fences.'"
"I 'fraid to ride with you," he said, totally poker faced. "You go in ditch."
"Crap! You didn't know how to drive yourself. I gave up and had Daniel teach me."
She saw his mouth twitch. "Hope Shiichoo not hear you. Turds in dirty mouth."
"Soap, Bahb, soap." Loni slowly pulled to a stop. "What the hell?" she blurted, watching the scene unfold in front of her. Sitting bareback on top of a jackass, a shirtless and barefoot man was flapping his legs trying to herd a mother cow and two calves out of the road back through a hole in the fence. His arms waved in time with his legs as he yelled, "Move! Goddammit! Move your sorry ass! Move!" Loni couldn't tell if he was talking to the jackass or the cows.
His bare feet dragged the ground, catching weeds between dirty toes, as he rode over to the truck. "Look at this." He pulled on the jackass to stop. "My empire's fallin' down all around me."
Willie laughed and Loni would have joined him if she hadn't been so pissed about Flossie. And her raw, sore butt. Taking a deep breath, Loni drew herself up to her full height. "Hey, Cal. I'm looking for Bahb's cows. Know who took them?"
"Well, don't look at me. I swear I had nothin' to do wit it. All's I know is my brother took 'em."
"J.R.?"
"Nah. Not J.R. He's so worthless we have to do his stealing for him."
Loni was relieved.
"It were Peewee. He did borrow J.R.'s truck though. Boy was he pissed. Wouldn't even take a cow for it. Last I know'd, Peewee left 'em behind my dad's house."
Loni nodded and drove on up the road to Cal's dad's farm. "He's lying," she said to Bahb. "It was his fingerprint on the rod. Both he and Peewee are in on it."
"Whoa," Willie said, and Loni stopped on the side of the road. They had found their cows. Flicking ears and swishing tails, they stood with their heads down looking hungry and thirsty.
She listened to Bahb and Willie talk about the cows, each by name, as if they were people. Pulling back onto the road, she interrupted. "Old Man Miller. Is he as mean as I remember him?"
"Prob'ly," Bahb said as they got out of the truck in front of a sagging farm house. A large, short haired, brown mutt greeted them with wild, out-of-control barking and body slams against the gate.
"Wow." Willie grinned. "Guess he no like you."
Loni gave Willie a skinny look. "Maybe it's you he doesn't like."
Watching the dog slam against the gate again, Willie shook his head. "Only one thing worse than bad dog."
"I know, Willie. I heard Bahb say it before. It's the sonofabitch that would own one."
Loni clanged the cowbell hanging on the gatepost, and the dog went berserk. "Think he knows how to get out?"
"Not yet." Her granddad grinned as Loni's eyes widened.
An old man opened the screen door and yelled, "Wha'dja' want?"
"I'm after those cows out back," Loni shouted back between dog snarls.
John Miller shuffled out, kicking at the dog.
"Shaddup!" Limping, the mangy dog cowered on its belly, growling low as it crawled under the porch.
Pale and emaciated, John ran a swollen hand through his thin, stringy hair to wipe away the sweat. Tired, gray wisps of chest hair stuck out around his dirty undershirt.
"Find happy hunting ground soon," Bahb said. "Man sick."
"You mean go to hell. I wish I could send him there now," Loni fumed.
Bahb gently placed his brown hand over Loni's fingers resting on her gun butt. "He already in hell. Been there a long time." They watched him shuffle down the walkway toward them. "Leave him be."
"So?" John opened the gate and glared at them. "You want to buy them?"
"No," Loni snapped. "I want them back."
The old man sneered. "They ain't branded. Prove they're yours."
Under her breath, Loni muttered, "I really want to shoot him." She felt Bahb squeeze her hand. "I need your bill of sale."
"Why?"
"Because you can't prove they belong to you without one."
"Don't have one."
"You admit you stole them," Loni snapped and felt Bahb squeeze her hand again.
"From who?"
Loni was out of patience. "I just told you. From Bahb here."
John guffawed. "Good one. You know you can't steal from an Indian. Bob doesn't own anything worth stealing."
"It's Bahb, not Bob. He's my granddad, Mr. Miller."
"I know who you are."
"Then you know those cattle belong to him."
"Fine. Take them. Told those worthless boys not to leave them there," he snarled, starting to turn away. "Can't understand anyone who won't brand a cow, anyhow."
"Well guess what? You're under arrest, Mr. Miller."
"Ni, ni," her granddad insisted, pulling on her arm. "Leave him be."
She turned to him in exasperation. "They left old Flossie in that cactus patch to die!"
"I know, I know."
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Loni sighed. "Okay, Bahb." She turned back to Old Man Miller. "You tell Cal and Peewee to take the cows to Bahb's ranch. Today. Or I will be back and arrest the lot of you."
