“You were burying a hand? On the pueblo?” The elder closest to me didn’t sound happy so I decided he needed to be reminded that I’d nearly been choked to death. Maybe if he realized I’d risked my life for the sake of a pueblo legend, he’d look a little kinder on me.
“You came up behind me and wrapped that rope around my neck. What stopped you from finishing the job, Caridad? Somebody was coming, right? And you couldn’t afford to stick around and finish me off.”
Her laugh echoed against the cliff walls. “How foolish you all are,” she said, glancing around at the Taopi. “To listen to this woman. Why would I want to perform this ceremony? I am a scientist. If you’re looking for someone who believes in these silly, paranormal things, you know you must look at Dan.”
His mouth fell open. “Caridad, how could you say such a thing?”
“He’s the one who believes in magic,” she said, swinging an arm in her husband’s direction. “He’s the one who wanted to prove the existence of the spirits. And he told me, many times… he told me he would do anything to make this happen.”
“Yeah, I bet he did. But you…” I took another step closer to her. “You’re the one who wanted the magical bowl, because according to the legend, the bowl cures sickness and you need it, don’t you, Caridad?”
“Caridad?” The single word from Dan wasn’t as much as question as it was a wail.
“It explains everything,” I said matter-of-factly. “The sore back. The dark circles under your eyes. You running out of breath when you tried to take off on us. And it explains you not ordering one of those crazy Cowboy Buddha margaritas because, let’s face it, they’re fabulous and nobody but a recovering alcoholic could resist. You weren’t drinking because you’re on some kind of heavy-duty medication. And it isn’t working, is it? If it was, you wouldn’t need the ceremony or the magical healing bowl.”
“I do not believe in these things.” She stomped one foot in the dust. “I am logical. Rational. It is Dan.” She pointed a finger at him. “He is the one. It was his idea.”
“We’ll sort it all out at the station.” Jesse moved forward to take hold of Caridad’s arm, but I was quicker.
“We can find out sooner than that,” I said, shooting forward. I knelt down and pulled up Caridad’s pant leg.
“Black-and-white stripes,” I said, looking at the pattern painted on her leg. “Just like the sacred clown who attacked me.”
It was one of those moments great movie endings are made of, and it might have been remembered that way, too, if I hadn’t been caught off guard and Caridad’s arm didn’t go around my throat. Before I could regain my balance, she dragged me to the edge of the mesa.
“I’ll push her,” she said, mostly to Jesse because he was the one who moved first. “One step closer and I’ll push her over the side. By the time she hits each of those rocks on the way down, you’ll be lucky if you find one strand of that phony red hair.”
“The hell it’s phony!” I would have squirmed if I dared. The way it was, I could feel the wind that shot up from the bottom of the canyon that surrounded the mesa. It was as cold as death. I guess it was a good thing it was dark. Something told me it was a long way down. It was the same something that told me I didn’t want to find out firsthand.
“I want your guns. Here.” Caridad tapped the ground with one foot and waited until Pete, Jesse, and the other cop tossed their weapons on the ground and kicked them nearer to her. “Dan was right, by the way…” Still keeping a firm hold on me, she bent and grabbed Jesse’s gun. She kicked the other two over the edge of the mesa. “I am an excellent shot. So you will let me by, and you will wait here for one hour. You will give me time to get down to the canyon and get in my truck and leave this place. And if you don’t…” Her hand bunched in the back of my jacket, she hauled me to my feet. “If I hear one movement of anyone coming after me, I will surely kill Ms. Martin.”
I’d already decided what I was going to do so this last threat didn’t exactly help me make up my mind. It did scare the living daylights out of me, though, so before I could let that stop me, I shrugged out of the sleeves of the too-big jacket and took off running. Yeah, I hid behind Jesse. It was the sensible thing to do and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when I peeked out from around him to see what Caridad was up to, he pushed me back.
“You’ve lost your hostage and you’ve got no way out.” When he took a step toward Caridad, Jesse’s voice was calm. He held out a hand to her. “Come on. We’ll figure out what happened and we’ll work things out. It’s the only way out, Caridad.”
“The only way? I don’t think so.”
I figured she wasn’t being literal and I’ll bet nobody else did, either.
That would explain why nobody but Jesse had time to move. He shot forward, but he was one step too late when he reached out to grab Caridad just as she hurled herself over the edge of the mesa.
We spent the night on the mountain. For one thing, it was a crime scene and Jesse said it had to be secured. For another, Strong Eagle refused to be rushed through the removal of the bones and the reconsecration of the sacred kiva.
Jesse insisted I stay in Caridad’s plushy tent, and even though the thought gave me the heebie-jeebies, I gave in. I was bone tired, the skin on my neck stung, and besides, even the tent of a recently deceased murderer beat outside. Plus it wasn’t like I was going to sleep, anyway. I sat in the chair by her desk, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Caridad disappear into the dark nothing that surrounded the mesa one second and the look of bleak misery on Dan’s face the next.
By the time the first light sent the stars packing, I’d had it with fighting the losing battle. I stepped outside just in time to see Jesse heading for the tent where Dan had spent the night. No doubt, poor Dan had been handcuffed to the tent’s main support post to make sure he didn’t try to take off. Yeah, he was stupid. I mean, about Caridad and all. But I couldn’t stand the thought of Dan like that. Pete had a pot of coffee going in the tent the grad students had once stayed in, and I got a cup for myself, one for Jesse, and another one for Dan.
When I stepped into Dan’s tent, he was sitting on the edge of a camp bed much like the one in Caridad’s quarters. His glasses were off and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. So was his nose. When I handed him his coffee, it was my way of saying I was sorry. Not that I regretted punching him in the nose if he really had something to do with those phony permits and all. But hey, the guy had watched his wife take a header off the side of a cliff. The least I could do was offer what comfort I was able.
What I didn’t get was that Dan wasn’t handcuffed. I guess the look on my face must have said it all because Jesse spoke right up.
“I’ve just been expressing my sympathies to Doctor Callahan, and telling him how much I appreciate all the help he gave us.”
Good thing there was a chair nearby. I dropped into it. “Help?”
“Sorry.” The single word was apparently supposed to convey Jesse’s whole message. Yeah, right. I waited until he was done gulping down his coffee and that was long enough.
“You’re sorry because…”
“Because we had to keep you in the dark.” With a look, Jesse showed that the we meant both him and Dan. “Doctor Callahan and I figured it would be easier this way.”
“Doctor Callahan…” I swung a no-nonsense look in his direction. “Doctor Callahan better start talking. Were you in on this, Dan? With Jesse?”
“Not exactly.” Dan’s shoulders were stooped, and when he shook his head, it was as if it cost him every last ounce of energy he had. “But the chief here, he had this theory about Caridad and—”
“You knew?” Sleep-deprived or not, I hopped out of my chair and, fists on hips, faced Jesse. “You knew Caridad did it? And you never told me? And you…” This time, I turned to Dan. “You knew it, too?”
Jesse scratched a hand along the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure. But as soon as I learned she’d been on the Olympic team and w
as an expert sharpshooter—”
“You knew that, too?” I sank back down in my chair. “Somebody better start explaining. And quick.”
Jesse did. “Give me some credit,” he said. “I am a cop, after all. I located Doctor Callahan a couple days ago and yes—” He held up a hand to stop me when I opened my mouth to protest. “I could have told you, but I decided it would be safer if you didn’t know. If the doc here was our murderer, I didn’t need you marching in to confront him. But I had this theory about Caridad.”
“And I didn’t believe a word of it.” Dan stared into his coffee cup. “Then Jesse convinced me there was only one way to find out. If we confronted Caridad together—”
“You could both get the proof you needed.” I understood, I just wasn’t sure I liked it. “Only, Dan, I’m betting that you didn’t think there would be any proof. You went along with Jesse because you thought his suspicions were all wrong, and that he’d find out Caridad was really innocent.”
“Yes.” He looked up at me, his face lined with grief and worry. “She’s the one who forged those permits,” he said. “I saw them initially. I handled them, sure. I mean, before they were ever signed. Jesse says that explains my fingerprints on them. But I never signed them. When he showed me my forged signature… well, even then, I didn’t believe it. But after everything Caridad said last night… after everything she did…” His voice broke over a sob. “I’m sorry, Pepper, I was blind. And it nearly got you killed.”
“But how…” I blamed my confusion on not sleeping and hoped Jesse didn’t hold it against me. “When…”
“When I finally found Doctor Callahan staying in a little motel outside of Taos, he had this with him. He grabbed it from the cabin where the kidnappers had kept him.” Jesse reached around a nearby file cabinet and pulled out my Jimmy Choo tote bag.
Only it wasn’t.
Jesse caught on to my dubious look. “You know something’s wrong.”
“That bag’s a knockoff.” I knew it instantly, but then, I have a keen eye for that sort of thing. “The glaze isn’t shiny enough, and there’s too much space between each of the studs on the handle. But if this is the bag that was at the cabin with Brian, that means the bones were in it, and if the bones were in it, why did he need to go to Norma’s to look for the real thing? Oh wait!” It was so clear, I would have slapped my forehead if I wasn’t afraid it would leave an ugly mark.
“It was because my bag is the real thing. The knockoff belonged to Norma, right? And she took one look at my real designer bag and saw a dream come true. She knew Brian would never be able to tell the difference, so she put the bones in the knockoff and gave that bag to him. Only…” The rest had me stumped, so Jesse filled in the blanks.
“After Brian had the bag of bones he took from Norma’s, he must have seen this.” He opened the bag enough for me to see the tag inside that showed Norma’s name and address. “Even though they looked the same, Brian knew the purse wasn’t yours. He must have figured that Norma kept your bag and if yours had a nameplate in it like hers did, he was afraid someone might find it at Norma’s, then track you down and put two and two together. He couldn’t take the chance. That’s why he was at Norma’s that day you got knocked on the head.”
“So I’ll get my Jimmy Choo back?”
Jesse was the picture of stony-faced patience. “After the case is wrapped up.”
It was some good news, at least. “And Dan?” I asked.
Pete Olivas showed up outside the tent, and even though Pete didn’t say a word, Jesse stood up like he knew he had someplace to go. “Doctor Callahan has cooperated fully,” he said. “I’ll be sure to make note of that when I talk to the prosecutor. Now…” He motioned us to follow him. “Strong Eagle is ready to begin.”
Pete walked side by side with Dan over to the kiva, and Jesse and I followed.
“Strong Eagle is going to do the ceremony that calls the spirits.” I didn’t need to be a detective to figure that out; I saw that the bowl of sage on the altar was smoldering, just as it had the night before when Caridad was going to get Dan to perform the ceremony. “He’s going to find out the location of the sacred bowl.”
“That’s the idea.” We were nearly to the kiva, and Jesse put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug. “The ritual is secret, but Strong Eagle is allowing Dan to attend in the hopes of easing his grief. And of course he wants you to be there. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
I’m not a ceremony kind of girl. After all, before ghosts first butted their ectoplasmic noses into my life, I wasn’t even sure I believed in spirits or the Other Side. But here’s the thing: as soon as we took our places around the altar and Strong Eagle started chanting words I couldn’t understand, I felt… something. Electricity crackled in the air. A vibration flowed from the ground. The colors of the rocks and the sage and the carvings in the cliff face were more intense, and the sound of the shaman’s voice was as clear as crystal.
There was magic on the kiva that morning, and as the sun peeked over the mountains, it filled the air and danced over my skin like the fresh morning breeze.
That same breeze blew the smoke of the smoldering sage branches into big, gray puffs and the scent filled my lungs and stung my eyes. I closed them for a moment, and when I opened them again, there were men and women standing at the altar with Strong Eagle.
The Old Ones.
Don’t ask me where the words came from, but there they were in my head, and I knew they were right. These were the spirits of the Taopi who had lived in this pueblo a thousand years before. They were small people, and their eyes were filled with wisdom. As if they were no more substantial than the smoke that drifted around the altar, they swayed in each passing breeze, faded, floated, and came back into focus again. Strong Eagle nodded to acknowledge them. He said a few more words in the ancient language, and the next thing I knew, Chester Goodshot Gomez was standing next to the shaman.
I would have raced right over there if Jesse didn’t put a hand on my arm to stop me. In a heartbeat, I saw why. This was the moment the Taopi had been waiting for for more than one hundred years; Goodshot put a hand on Strong Eagle’s arm, and together, the two men walked to the entrance of the kiva and disappeared inside.
I was all for going after them to see what was up, but hey, I am not completely dopey when it comes to these sacred, woo-woo things. Jesse and the elders and the other cops stood with their heads bowed. So did Dan. I knew this was one time it was better to stay put—and keep quiet.
Not that it was easy. Standing there with the silence pressing in on me, I just about thought I’d burst. That is, until Strong Eagle and Goodshot emerged from the kiva and walked back toward the altar. By then the sun was above the mountains and it glinted like a million stars against something in Strong Eagle’s hands.
The sacred silver bowl.
When Strong Eagle set it on the altar, I got a good look at it. The bowl was maybe a foot across and just as tall, hammered silver decorated with the same sorts of symbols that adorned the cliff face of the pueblo. Pretty much the only thing I know about silver is that it’s pretty and I like it for earrings and jewelry. But I knew this: the bowl was very old, and very special. Once it was on the altar, I realized that the humming vibration I’d heard ever since Strong Eagle started to chant wasn’t coming from the ground or the rocks or the cliffs. It was coming from the bowl. Like music.
Okay, I’m not a crier. I mean, not for stuff like this. But hey, it was hard not to be moved by the magic of the moment and the look of gratitude in Strong Eagle’s eyes. A smile touched the shaman’s face. I didn’t understand the words, but when he spoke, I knew he was thanking the spirits and promising that Goodshot’s bones would be buried with honor on the pueblo.
Strong Eagle bowed to all the Old Ones, and I knew what that meant, too: the ceremony was nearly over, and Goodshot was about to disappear forever into swirling smoke and the stuff of legends.
He’d alrea
dy started to fade when he looked across the altar and caught my eye. I didn’t see him move, but the next thing I knew, Goodshot was standing directly in front of me.
“The Taopi owe you their thanks,” Goodshot said. “They can now use the silver bowl in their sacred ceremonies.”
My smile was watery.
“I owe you my thanks, too. You brought me back to this place where I belong. Strong Eagle, he understands this, and he will explain it to the elders. Don’t worry.” His eyes sparkled as much as his smile. “I’ve convinced him that you shouldn’t do time for snatching my bones.”
“Thanks.” I’d always been lousy when it came to good-byes and I scrambled for a way to make him stay, just a little while longer.
I didn’t need to. Goodshot wasn’t done. “I have been thinking,” he said. “About your Gift, and about how it deserted you when you were trying to help me and rescue your friend. I’ve asked the Old Ones to grant me a special favor, and they have agreed. The spirits are gone from your life, Pepper. You can live the rest of it in peace, without ever having to worry again about dealing with them. Or…” Goodshot looked into my eyes. “If you want, you can have your Gift back.”
“Really?” It was a dumb question because, of course, he was serious. I knew ghosts wouldn’t bother to come back from the dead at magical ceremonies just to hand me a line. Funny thing was, I didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes,” I said. “I would very much like my Gift back.”
Goodshot glanced toward Strong Eagle. “She is the raven,” he said. “The one who walks with the living, and the dead. This is one dead guy”—he gave me a wink—“who will always be grateful.”
A breeze kicked up. It extinguished the candles on the altar and blew the smoke into the morning sky.
And when it was gone, so was Goodshot Gomez.
It took a couple days for the excitement to die down and for Jesse to get all his reports written and his phone calls made. We decided to celebrate with dinner on the patio at the Taos Inn, and I wore my newly dry-cleaned batik skirt and yellow tank in honor of the occasion. I knew it was worth getting all dolled up when I saw the appreciative grin on Jesse’s face. He was off duty, and he was wearing butt-hugging jeans and a black T-shirt. He was even more delicious than the Cowboy Buddha margarita I found waiting at the table.
Wild Wild Death Page 21
