“No. I fell over when Sani removed the compass from my stomach. I’m guessing if he caused bats to fly at the same time, it was to create a distraction.”
“How did he get the compass out of you?”
Winn raised his shirt. There was a two inch scar in the center of his chest, just below his pecs. It was bright red, and looked sore. “He warned me it would leave a mark,” Winn said, lowering his shirt.
Deem remembered seeing Sani point at Winn’s chest when they had been talking before they went in. Now that she had the whole picture, she felt a little sheepish for being upset.
“I guess I owe you an apology,” Deem said. “For being so snippy before.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Winn said, “or you would have had to wait outside the fence. And I knew that would have really pissed you off.”
“True,” Deem said, sucking on her straw. “I would have been angry if you’d said, ‘wait in the car,’ and then the four of you went in without me. Did you see the snake? The spear Ninth Sign threw?”
“I saw the spear, and I saw the guy catch it. Which was pretty cool.”
“It turned into a snake in his hand,” Deem said. “Bit him. The other guy cut it off him, but I thought for sure he was poisoned.”
“I’m pretty confident all three of them were full of some kind of protection,” Winn said. “Probably drank a gallon of it before they came.”
“So you’re a blank?” Deem said. “I wonder exactly what that means. If it means more than just being impervious to Ninth Sign’s creations.”
“Don’t know. I’m not too happy about this scar though.”
“Worried it might screw up your love life? All the little sexpots in Moapa will run away screaming from the ugly scar? Like you’re the Beast?”
“I’ll have to make up a story, like a battle scar,” Winn said. “Something that will make them want to sleep with me even more.” He turned to Deem and gave her his widest, most charismatic smile.
“I guess you earned it,” Deem said.
Chapter Seventeen
Carma sat at the head of a large dining table that was made of rough-hewn, polished wood planks.
“Deem, another?” Carma asked, motioning to her tray of pies on a nearby antique buffet.
“No, I’m stuffed, thank you!” Deem said, trying to speak through her laughter. She’d been listening to a story Awan was telling, and she’d been laughing for almost a minute straight. It was cathartic.
“Awan? How about you? You look hungry still.”
“No,” he said, still laughing as well. “Thank you. I can’t.”
Winn picked up his wine glass and drank the remaining half inch of merlot. “Awan, there’s one thing I don’t get.”
Carma, seeing the empty wine glass, hopped up from her spot at the table and brought a new bottle over from the buffet. She corked it as Winn talked.
“How did Sani know about me?” Winn asked. “When she arrived…”
“By the way,” Deem interrupted, “is Sani a ‘he’ or a ‘she’? We couldn’t figure that out.”
“He,” Carma said, pulling the cork from the bottle. “He’s been gender bending for years.”
“When HE arrived,” Winn continued, “he knew all about me. He didn’t ask, he just started telling me what the plan was, what to do. How’d he know I was a blank?”
“Lyman,” Awan said. “Lyman picked up on it when you were first here. He told Sani. When I told them that you were going to go into the school, they traveled up from the reservation to be ready once you came out. Sani realized you were the opportunity they needed.”
“Why did we have to go in first?” Deem asked.
“Sani’s old,” Awan said. “But he was the one with the most experience at dividing elements, which they knew was the only way they would be able to bring down Ninth Sign. They were worried Sani could handle it, at his age. They wanted to be sure they could go straight to Ninth Sign and finish him off, without searching the whole school. Letting you find him first helped with that.”
“I was kind of disappointed they didn’t stop to talk more after it was over,” Winn said. “They said nothing as we walked out. We got back to our cars, they loaded Sani into theirs, and they took off. It makes sense that Sani was wiped out. But I would have liked to know more about them.”
“The Navajo have never been comfortable talking with white people about medicine,” Awan said. “Most Natives aren’t. You have to understand. They don’t even say the word ‘skinwalker,’ let alone have conversations about it. It was nothing personal.”
“Sani called Ninth Sign ‘Shilah’, and Ninth Sign called Sani the same thing,” Deem said. “A Navajo name?”
“It means ‘brother’,” Awan said.
“As in tribal brother?” Deem asked. “Or were they related?”
“I don’t know,” Awan said. “But since Ninth Sign had been expelled by the tribe, I doubt Sani called him Shilah because they were tribal brothers.”
“Deem?” Carma said, holding the merlot bottle. “A sip?”
Deem hadn’t been drinking during the meal, but she’d been enjoying how relaxed and uninhibited the others had become as they had imbibed. Her whole life she’d said no to alcohol, in accordance with her religion. Now I’m losing my religion, she thought. The wine doesn’t seem to have hurt these three people. And in a few days, I won’t be a member anymore, anyway. What the hell.
“Sure,” she said. “A little.”
“Whoa!” Winn said, pushing himself back from the table and laughing. “You’re going to do it?”
“A sip,” Deem said. “Don’t get all worked up.”
“I’ve been trying to get her to taste a beer for the last two years,” Winn said to Awan, smiling. “No go.”
“You don’t tempt a woman with beer,” Carma said. “Wine, especially a good one like this.”
Deem raised the wine glass to her lips. She smelled the bouquet, and it surprised her. She was expecting it to smell like grape juice. I’ll bet it doesn’t taste like grape juice, either, she thought. Brace yourself.
Everyone was silent and all eyes were glued on Deem as she let the wine pass her lips and rest in her mouth. She swallowed.
“Yea!” Winn cheered.
Deem scrunched up her face as the alcohol hit. “It’s a little bitter,” she said.
“Not this wine!” Carma said. “No, my dear. This is the good stuff. If you want to taste bitter, try some bad wine.”
“She’s used to sugar drinks,” Winn said. “Hot chocolates and Diet Cokes.”
“Deem,” Carma said, “I want you to try something. Take that last bite of pie you left on your plate, and wash it down with the wine. Right on the heels of it, OK?”
Deem did as instructed, and after she swallowed, a smile slowly spread across her face.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “That’s why people drink wine with food. I get it now.”
“Oh, Deem,” Carma said, reaching out to hold her hand. Deem almost laughed; Carma looked like she might cry.
“Pour her another glass!” Winn said.
“No!” Carma said. “She said a sip, and that’s all. You just want to get her drunk and take advantage of her. Don’t lie to me, young man!”
Awan started laughing, and so did Deem.
“You watch out for that one,” Carma said to Deem, smiling. “He’s after you, I can tell.”
“He’s after half of southern Nevada,” Deem said.
Awan started laughing again, and Carma joined him.
Carma offered dessert, but everyone turned it down, too full. Carma said she’d save it for later, and they all moved into the sitting room overlooking the back yard. It seemed to be the favorite place to hang out in the house. Deem flopped into her favorite chair. The wine started moving through her, and she felt warm.
“Now to deal with your extortion brothers,” Winn said to Awan. “That ghost chalk ready yet?”
“Still working on it,” Awan said
. He’d brought his wine glass with him, and was sipping from it. “But they’ve skipped town, so even if it were ready, we’ve got to wait until they come back.”
“Something scare them off?” Deem asked.
“Don’t know yet,” Awan said. “They’re not at their home, and they haven’t been seen in town the last two days. So I’m in a holding pattern.”
“Well, let us know if they come back,” Winn said. He dug into his pants pocket, and pulled out the mindwall. “I suppose we should return these to you.”
“Nah,” Awan said. “Keep them. I have several, and my grandfather’s book shows how to make more.”
“Thanks, Awan!” Winn said, replacing the beaded emblem back into his pocket. “I find they come in very handy, in all kinds of circumstances.” He looked over at Deem, and smiled. She rolled her eyes.
“Carma told me about the excommunication,” Awan said to Deem. “Are you going to fight it?”
“No,” Deem said. “There’s no point. The fix is in. I’ll just have to help my mom through it. She’s the one I’m worried about.”
“You know,” Carma said, “you could confront Brother Dayton about it. You may have some incriminating information you could hold over him, force him to drop the proceedings.”
“Nah,” Deem said. “I’m OK with it. I’m more worried about what else he might do, or instruct others to do.”
“If he’s the one who had Claude killed,” Winn said, “he needs to pay. Somehow.”
Deem sat in her chair, contemplating. She agreed with Winn, she just didn’t know how to approach it.
“I have something for you,” Carma said, walking out of the room. She returned with a manila folder, which she handed to Deem. “A gift from Lyman. He wanted me to use it in another manner, but after meeting you he asked me to give it to you, so you could use it.”
Deem opened the folder. It contained a single picture of a teen boy. His sleeve was rolled up, and a needle hung from the skin around the inside of his elbow. His head was leaning back, a wide smile on his face.
“This looks like Johnny Dayton,” Deem said. “He’s shooting up?”
“Taken by a friend of his while they were high,” Carma said. “Lyman lifted the photo from the boy’s iPhone when he conveniently lost it at the county rodeo.”
“Lyman can do that?” Deem asked.
“Well, I say Lyman,” Carma answered, “but I really mean one of the people in Lyman’s network. They’re always looking for trash on the higher-ups. And it usually isn’t too hard to find.”
Deem knew exposing Dayton’s son as a drug addict wouldn’t cause him to lose his position in the church. But it would cause people to talk, and Dayton would be viewed as a bad father, the same way her mother would be viewed as a failure for having an excommunicated daughter. It might make it hard for him to receive another position of power when he was released from the stake presidency. Might be fair play for the damage Dayton was about to do to Deem’s mother.
Carma saw the thoughts swirling around in Deem’s mind. “You don’t have to use it, my dear. Only if it comes in handy. You might have far more powerful leverage in those boxes in the other room, once you get a chance to go through them.”
“Thank you,” Deem said to Carma. “Thanks for looking out for me. And please thank Lyman, too.”
“You can thank him yourself,” Carma said. “He’s sitting right over there. He can hear you.”
“Thanks, Lyman,” Deem said, turning to the empty chair Carma had pointed at. It felt a little weird. She dropped into the River.
Lyman was faintly visible in the chair. It gave Deem a shiver, just as it did whenever she realized ghosts were in the room that she hadn’t been aware of. She smiled, hoping Lyman might see it.
▪ ▪ ▪
“Sister Hinton,” Dayton said, opening the door. “I hope this will be a cordial visit, unlike last time.”
“It will,” Deem said, taking a deep breath and walking into Dayton’s home. She was determined to keep a calm composure. “Is your wife home? The kids?”
“No one’s home,” Dayton said, leading her into the living room and sitting down. “And I see you’re alone this time, too. Please, sit down. What can I do for you?”
“Did you kill Claude? Or have him killed?”
“Yes,” Dayton said.
Deem was shocked. She was expecting him to act in stake president-mode, pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. It took her by surprise to see him admit it.
“He violated his oaths,” Dayton said. “So his life was taken.”
“It looked to me like whoever you sent to kill him was also supposed to retrieve some of Claude’s things, too. Some documents.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“Then you know he didn’t succeed at that.”
“Yes.”
“And you know who has the documents now?”
“Who? You?”
“Yes.”
Dayton laughed. “I don’t think so.”
Deem resisted every urge in her body to argue with Dayton. It irritated her that he was so cocky, so sure that she didn’t have them. She wanted to rub it in his face, but she knew it was better to let it drop, to let him think she didn’t have them.
“I see you’ve started excommunication proceedings on me,” Deem said.
“That wasn’t me,” Dayton said. “That was your Bishop.”
“Influenced by you,” Deem said. “I know how these things work.”
“I don’t think you do,” Dayton said.
“My father was part of your council,” Deem said calmly, keeping control of her tone. “We both know that. You won’t confirm it because membership is part of your secret oaths, but I know he was. I’ll never be part of your council, I know that. I’m a woman, for one. Plus you’re a little angry at me right now. I’m angry at you, too. Killing Claude was unnecessary.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Sister Hinton.”
“I don’t understand how you can say that, when you don’t believe it. It’s phony.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Sister Hinton. It’s not phony to us. Not to any of us. We’re all true believers, through and through. So was your father.”
“You know I’m gifted,” Deem said. “And I know what I’m doing. I don’t sit at home, waiting for a returned missionary. I’m out there, doing things. I see things. I’m in touch with this area, all the strange places and people. I already know all about your council, and I’m learning more, every day.”
“What’s your point, Sister Hinton?”
“I know you won’t take me on the council because I’m a woman and because I’m not active. But I am my father’s daughter, and I know he was a good man. I know if he was on your council, there was a reason, a good reason. So I’m here to offer you a deal. Détente.”
Dayton looked at her. He stayed silent.
“I don’t care about the excommunication, personally. I’m a jack Mormon, I admit it. I know you’re only doing it to hurt my mom. But you knew her, too. She’s my father’s wife. So I’d like you to drop it, for her sake.”
Dayton continued to stare at her.
“In exchange, I’ll be your ally. I can’t be on your council, like my father, but I can do what I can to help your causes. I know you have people who work for you, that do the things the council can’t or won’t do directly. I would be a good candidate for that. And I come across information all the time. Things you might find useful. I was thinking, if we work together, we’d both get further.”
“Frankly, Sister Hinton, your actions of late would suggest otherwise. Tailing me to a meeting. Causing Brother Peterson to violate his oaths. Threatening me in my home. It would seem we’re on opposites sides of the fence.”
Deem put on her best poker face and played her best card, the one she knew befuddled old men the most. She lowered her head and started to cry. “I miss him so much!” she squeaked out between sobs. She grabbed the sides
of the chair she was sitting in, steadying herself. She forced herself to cry even more, thinking of her father’s face in his casket at the viewing. “I want to honor his name. He was my father, and I owe him that. I didn’t mean to get Claude killed. I was only trying to find my father’s journals. You have to believe me. That’s all. That’s all it was, nothing more. That’s something a child should want to do, right? Read their parent’s journals? I’m so sorry, President Dayton. I hope you’ll forgive me.” She sobbed some more, letting the tears flow down her cheeks.
Dayton stood and handed her a box of Kleenex from the table next to his chair. It’s not the first time he’s had someone crying in his living room, Deem thought. She took one. He sat back down.
“I’d like to believe you, Sister Hinton,” Dayton said. “Your father and I were great friends. He would want us to get along. I watched you grow up from an infant. I was in your blessing circle, you know that? I remember all those great barbeques your father invited us to, every summer. We used to really enjoy each other’s company, being around each other’s family. It’s just that now – well, I question your sincerity.”
“I understand,” Deem said, hurling words out though the tears. “I was rude to you the other night. Things I said – completely uncalled for. I apologize, from the bottom of my heart. I was wrapped up in an obsession. I know you’re on his side – my side. I know my father considered you a great man and a friend. I was hoping we could start over. I was hoping you’d give me a chance.”
“But how, Sister Hinton? How can I know you mean what you say?”
Deem pulled the picture from her satchel, and handed it to Dayton. He looked it over, and his face slowly washed from concern to horror as he saw the picture of his son.
“Where did you get this?”
“A friend of mine had it,” Deem said. “She was going to scan it and post it on Facebook. I didn’t want any harm to come to you or your family, so I stole it from her before she could do any damage. I wanted to give it to you personally. It’s the only copy that I know of. I’m sure this comes as a surprise to you. I’m so sorry to bring you this news! I thought, if I brought it to you, you might forgive me, and begin to trust me.” She burst into a fresh round of tears.
Blood Oath, Blood River (The Downwinders Book 1) Page 28
