"What if this someone did take him down that road? Would you be able to tell?"
Manyhorses' gaze landed on me, then, and it was like staring at two pieces of obsidian. "Maybe," he said after a while.
"Does anyone go back there?" I had a hunch and I wanted to see how much Manyhorses would reveal.
He pursed his lips and set his hands on his hips. "No one with good intentions," he said vaguely, in a way that told me that yes, it was possible that someone might have taken Bill to a night-swept wash where Navajo witches sometimes gathered and shapeshifted and did whatever shitty things they were compelled to do. If that was what happened, and someone had tied him to something out there, maybe they were just trying to scare him into leaving Ridge Star alone. But maybe Bill got away, and he started walking, following a hint of a road back to the main route that would take him north to Highway 64. Three miles, give or take, from where he'd been hit. A long way to go, especially at night, especially when you were already scared.
I stared south again, back toward Manyhorses' place. Given the angle at which Bill had been hit, the vehicle had been behind him, approaching from Manyhorses' turn-off. His was the last house off this road. Which meant the vehicle could just as easily have originated at the Manyhorses spread. Or, the vehicle might have approached from the north. Bill saw it, and tried to hide. Maybe he was successful at hiding and the vehicle passed, and discovering that Bill wasn't at the wash where he'd been left, the driver then turned around, and went looking for him. Damn. We need that vehicle. Or a confession. Or something.
"What do you think happened, Mr. Manyhorses?" I asked, turning my gaze back to his face, almost as weathered and intractable as Tse Bi dahi.
He settled the brim of his hat lower over his forehead, shading his eyes. "Nestor told me there were some bad things going on at Ridge Star, and that your father--" he looked at Sage and River again, "was trying to correct them." He shrugged. "Someone didn't agree with what he was doing."
"But do you think that whatever he was doing would have driven someone to kill him?" I winced as Sage's hand dug into my shoulder.
"People kill for much less," Manyhorses said. He shook his head slowly and lapsed into silence. That was a cue, of sorts, for letting us know he was done talking.
"Many thanks for talking to us," I said, the impromptu spokesperson for this situation. "Much appreciated."
He grunted in response. "Sorry for your loss," he said again, and offered a brusque wave as he retreated to his truck and climbed in. We all stood aside as he started the engine and shifted it into gear. It rumbled past and he touched the fingers of his left hand to the brim of his hat as he passed. Dust swirled around our feet in the pickup's wake and we stood in continued silence, watching the tailgate until it was hidden by dust and distance.
River broke our silence. "I'm not real thrilled about going to that wash," he said, but I knew if Sage wanted to, he'd do it. The three of us turned to her and waited. Sage took her sunglasses off her head where she'd placed them and slid them back over her eyes.
"I don't think we should," she pronounced and I exhaled with relief.
"You think Mr. Manyhorses told Simmons or Martin about the wash?" Kara asked.
"I'll tell Simmons anyway." Sage turned to look again at the spot where Bill's body had been found. I wasn't sure whether I should offer comfort again or whether she needed some space and as I opened my mouth to ask, Kara's cell phone rang.
"Dang, you get service out here?" River looked at her, surprised, as she took the phone out of her pocket and checked it.
"Apparently. Couple of bars' worth." She opened it. "It's Shoshana," she said to me, though I wasn't going to ask her. "Hey," Kara said into the phone. "What's up?" She walked a few paces away, talking.
"That'd make a good commercial," River intoned.
I glanced over at him, and a little smile lifted the corner of his mouth before I turned my attention back to Sage. She was watching us both. "How about we head back to Farmington?"
River and I both nodded as Kara returned to the car, closing her phone. "There's a new problem," she announced, troubled.
Jesus, now what? I bit my lip to keep from making any comments I'd regret.
"Shoshana's uncle got a call today."
Nobody said anything, waiting for her to tell us.
"From a guy who made a threat."
"And?" I asked.
Kara locked gazes with me. "The guy didn't identify himself, but he said if Jamison talked to anybody else, he'd end up like Bill."
I stared at her. "How the hell did this guy even know Purcell talked to anyone?" I ran a hand through my hair, anxiety kicking around in my gut. "What the fuck?"
"Shoshana doesn't know, but she thinks somebody's been watching her uncle's place since Bill was found."
"But why?" This was so damn frustrating. "Why the hell watch his place and not Nestor's? Or Tonya's?" Oh, Jesus. Unless they are already watching those places. "And what do they want?"
"Maybe the notebook?" Sage put her hand on my arm.
Of course. The notebook. Somebody knew Bill had kept a record of what was happening. Nestor knew. Tonya knew. Jamison might have known. "So somebody at Ridge Star knows Bill was keeping track of shit. And maybe whoever it is, they're trying to figure out where Bill stashed his documents."
"So whoever it is probably knows what we look like." River made a little noise as he sucked air between his teeth. "Unless there's somebody else who's been out there." He looked at Kara for confirmation.
"I asked Shoshana that. Nobody since us."
River made the noise again. "What about before us?"
"Shoshana doesn't think so. Jamison seems to think the call referred to our visit because he told her he hadn't gotten any calls like this."
"So he says." River pulled on his earlobe for a moment. "We already know he didn't tell us the full story."
Silently, I agreed with him. We were going with what Purcell told us, after all.
"He's scared," Kara said, and it sounded defensive. I shot her a look.
"Okay, wait," I interjected. "I don't see the point of pushing him. Maybe Shoshana can talk to him and get a better feel for what's got him freaked out. That is, if she wants to." I waited for Kara's take but all she did was shrug. "I'll call Shoshana and ask her what she thinks we should do, if anything, to follow up with her uncle," I said, cautious, though it still felt like a boundary violation with Kara. "What do you think?" I asked her.
"Not sure. Let me think on that," Kara said, and I didn't press it.
"Next question. Do we take the notebook to Simmons?" I looked at Sage first.
"I think we should make a couple of copies of it and then take it to her." She kept her shades on, but I knew her gaze was directed at me.
"Good idea. Chris would be proud."
Sage smiled. "I say we do that as soon as we get back to Farmington."
River muttered an affirmative and Kara and I nodded. "Okay. Then what?"
"Tomorrow, River and I are going to Tonya's to have a look at Dad's things, but she can't see us until around noon because she has some stuff to do. So we can take the original notebook to Simmons before we do that."
"Sounds good. Kara and I are still on tomorrow morning for Ridge Star--" I raised my eyebrows at her and she nodded. "So we'll do that. Then how about we all go back to Albuquerque and see what Simmons can do with Bill's notebook and whatever else we dig up tomorrow?" I just wanted to go home. I wanted to forget this ever happened, that Sage's father had ended up dead on the side of a reservation road, and that there weren't potentially dangerous people watching us.
"Seems about all we can do," River said, and I thought I heard relief in his voice. "Plus, you have to be back for your Thursday thing." He directed the last statement at Sage, who nodded and then started moving toward the car.
"All right. Let's go make some copies." She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.
KARA PURSED HER lips and regar
ded me from her chair next
to the motel room's door after I'd finished telling her everything about the weird things that had been happening since Bill had died. Actually, since I'd read that damn article in the Journal.
"So there's a little bit of tension between you and Sage," she said. It wasn't a question.
I sighed. "Yeah. I'm trying really hard to be supportive--I mean, she didn't like the guy, but his death still brings old shit up. But all this crazy stuff--witches? Dark forces? I don't know what to do with that. And the nutso thing is, something happened on the porch that night. I can't shake the feeling that this really is something I can't understand and it's somehow related to all the other stuff. But I don't know how." I was sitting on the end of one of the hotel beds, my feet on the floor. Kara was seated in one of the chairs next to the little table where my laptop sat. The chair was patterned in some commercial interpretation of southwestern Native style.
"And that messes with your little anal side." She wasn't being sarcastic.
"Totally."
"Well, I'm going to mess with it a bit more. Kase, you know there's stuff in the world that nobody can understand. Think about some of the stories Mom's told us about her work in Latin America. She told us she saw some stuff that logic couldn't explain."
"And then Dad would say it's just people creating what they want to see," I retorted, though I wasn't directing the comment at Kara. More at my own frustration with the whole situation.
She shrugged. "Dad's seen stuff, too. He just doesn't talk as much about it as Mom does."
Kara had a point. "So let's say that this weird stuff I've seen and been privy to is real and outside logical boundaries. What do I do with it?"
"Why do you have to do anything with it?"
I looked at her as if a third eye had appeared on her forehead.
She shook her head and her expression said to pity me. "Seriously. What's to do about it? Whatever this stuff is--whether it's Navajo witches or something your mind created in a moment of freak-out--why do you have to do anything about it?"
I studied the carpet, noting that its shade of blue brought out the turquoise splotches of Kara's chair. "I can't help thinking that it relates somehow to what's happening with Bill's death." I looked up and caught her eye. "And I hate that it's driving a wedge between me and Sage. I fucking hate that."
"Okay, wait," she said, leaning forward like a therapist might. "Let's say it is connected. We don't know how, yet, but forcing the issue isn't revealing anything except more stress--"
"So stop trying to force the issue." I finished for her.
"Something like that. And with regard to the wedge, that's a choice you make. If you let it create difficulties between you and Sage, then it will." She sat back, and her expression told me that she was waiting for me to respond with something typically K.C., like how I didn't need her lame counseling or existential observations. Instead, I smiled.
"You're right," I said, and it felt good to admit that.
"Oh, my God," she stage-whispered. "My older sister, the professor, just said I was right about something. I'm going to call Mom right now. And then nine-one-one." She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and waved it around dramatically.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," I muttered, staring at the floor again, a mixture of fatigue and stress clenching the muscles in my back. This is such a train wreck.
Kara set her phone on the table and joined me on the bed. "Hey." She put her arm around my shoulders. The gesture made me want to cry. I bit my lip to stop the urge.
"Hey," she said again.
A single tear escaped my right eye. Damn. I bit my lip harder.
"Kase, come on. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."
I sniffled and more tears welled in my eyes. "You didn't. And some hotshot professor I am, huh?" I wiped my face with the hem of my T-shirt. "I can't fucking make sense of anything anymore."
Kara pulled me closer. "Anybody would have a hard time with this whole thing. There's no manual for how to deal with possible supernatural phenomenon and the death of a father your partner has baggage about. It's not like you can Google that and find a solution. Or research it."
"I know that logically," I said between sniffles. "But I can't make it work emotionally. I don't know what the hell to do. I can't make this situation better. I can't make Sage feel better."
"That's so not true. You've been a wonderful support system for her. And Kase, you can't fix this. Bill's dead. Sage has to work that out for herself. All you can do is offer her a safe space to vent and freak out about it. There's nothing logical about that. It'll happen on its own time, and she'll figure it out."
I wiped my face again with my tee. "But what if while she's working on that she decides she's not into being in a relationship with me?"
Kara didn't say anything for a bit, and I looked up at her. "Jesus, Kase," Kara finally said and the tone of her voice made me cry a little more. "Sage loves you and she's not the type to throw something like that away just because she's working through some stuff."
"That's not a guarantee." To lose Sage would be like cutting out a giant chunk of my heart and skewering it over live coals.
"Maybe not. But here's the deal. If you conduct your life worried that the worst is going to happen, no matter the situation, then you'll drive a lot of people away. And that tends to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, anyway. You just need to keep showing up, and not run away. Sometimes that's the hardest thing to do."
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat, but couldn't because Kara was right, again, and I remembered when my relationship with Melissa had unraveled in a similar way, with both of us withdrawing and me dreading that she'd leave but isolating myself further until she did. "Do you think maybe I subconsciously try to drive people away?"
Kara gave me a squeeze. "I don't know. Maybe. I do know that if you set up a scenario like that--Sage leaving--you're on your way to enacting it. So don't. Talk to her. And don't hide." She said it with a slight warning, making me think about Melissa, and what Chris had said about me burying myself in my work.
I scuffed my bare toes into the carpet and winced because they were still sore from my earlier idiocy.
Kara tousled my hair. "Now get your ass over to her room-- wait. I'm coming with you. Just let me get my stuff." She pulled away and stood up and went into the bathroom where I heard her rummaging around.
"What are you doing?"
She emerged from the bathroom and flashed me a look. "Kase, sometimes you are so dense. I'm trading places with Sage tonight. You need some alone time with her and I don't have a problem sharing a hotel room with a guy. River's family, anyway." She put her toiletry kit in the duffle bag I'd loaned her for this trip.
"But she wants to spend time with him." Kara raised an eyebrow at me and shook her head. "You need her now. She needs you. Tell her that."
"But--" I stopped.
"What? You called Chris to tell her about the day, and you told me what was going on. You're done with processing anything else today. So get out of your damn head, go over to your woman's room, and tell her that you need her right here, right now, and you won't take no for an answer."
I stared at her, half-amused and half-stunned. "My woman?"
"Semantics. Whatever you call her. Partner. Girlfriend. Love monster. Shut the hell up and go get her," Kara said with a smirk. She grabbed the duffle bag and opened the hotel door. Without another word, I followed her down the hall, thoughts a jumble in my head, but one stuck out front and center. I did need Sage. And I needed to tell her that.
Chapter Sixteen
I WOKE UP before the alarm went off and opened my eyes, wishing for another few hours in bed. Hell, another few days. Or weeks. Maybe we could sleep through this fiasco. I sighed. No deal. I was lying on my left side, facing Sage, who was on her right side, head propped on one arm. She came into focus, watching me. She smiled.
"Hey," I said, smiling back. "What time is it?"
"How long have you been up?" I caught her hand with mine and kissed her fingertips.
"A while."
"You okay?" I searched her eyes, looking for clues to her thoughts.
"Much better than I have been in a while." She leaned in and kissed me. "Thank you."
I waited for her to continue, tracing patterns on her hip with my free hand.
"I know that you feel things that you don't always voice."
"True," I agreed.
"But I don't want you to think that you can't say things to me, no matter how pissed off you are or upset. Sometimes I can't reach some of your deeper levels, and you have to tell me when you want me to see them."
I nodded, thinking about how I'd shut myself off from Melissa, and how the relationship had disintegrated in the midst of Megan's addiction, both Melissa and me struggling to cope with that, trying to be a support system for each other but failing. I had escaped into my research while Melissa sought comfort from another woman.
"Are you thinking about what happened with Melissa?" she asked, stroking my cheek.
I smiled again. "Yeah."
"I'm not Melissa."
"No. But I'm still me and I need to not do certain things. I'm just not sure how."
"The answer might not be here," she said as she touched my forehead. "It might be here." She ran her fingers down my neck and stopped at my heart. Chris or Abuelita would say ¿Qué dice tu corazón? in a situation like this. And generally, they were right. If I couldn't find an answer in my head, maybe I should listen to what my heart was trying to say.
The Ties That Bind Page 21
