Looking Through Darkness

by Aimée Thurlo

  “No, give him room. He can’t hurt himself where he is now, but he could hurt you without meaning to. He’s having some kind of seizure.”

  “Why? What’s causing this?”

  “An allergic reaction, or maybe poison. The tea…” Jo looked down at the mug her teacher had dropped.

  “Don’t let him die!”

  “Help will be here in just a few minutes,” Jo assured her.

  Fortunately, the Brownhats lived on the outskirts of Shiprock so the regional medical center was just minutes away. Hearing the sound of sirens, Jo went to the door of the hogan, watching for the EMTs. “Here they come.”

  Victoria nodded, her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. “First let the Anglo doctors help, and then do a Lifeway Sing.”

  Jo nodded. That was the way it was these days. The emergency room came first, then it was time for traditional medicine from a hataalii.

  As the EMTs raced up the dirt road, Jo dialed the tribal police. Something told her they’d be needed, too.

  * * *

  The rest of Saturday went by quickly at The Outpost. Not long after Melvin’s bear sculpture had sold, another customer expressed interest in the horse, promising to come back on Monday. Leigh Ann smiled, looking forward to giving Melvin the good news.

  It was approaching six when she went to check on Del, the high school senior who worked for them during the afternoons and all day Saturday. The young man had kept to himself today, stocking the shelves and organizing the storeroom.

  Leigh Ann walked into the storeroom and found him cleaning out the big double sink. “It looks great in here. Good job,” she said. “About done?”

  “Everything is shelved or on pallets, and I’ve just finished mopping the floor. I guess I better move fast and sweep the front. It’s past closing time,” Del said, glancing at the clock above the door.

  Leigh Ann looked over and drew in a breath. It was five minutes past, actually, time to lock up if there were no more customers inside.

  The afternoon had gone by in a blur. Melvin, who’d called earlier to say he’d be delayed—they’d had a flat—would be arriving soon and she still had to prove out the cash registers.

  “It’s later than I thought, too,” she said.

  Esther was still at the sewing machine, working.

  “Esther, it’s time to call it a day,” she said.

  “You’ve got one more customer,” Esther replied, and gestured by pointing her lips, Navajo style.

  Leigh Ann hurried to the cash register, where the Anglo businesswoman she’d spoken to earlier about the horse sculpture was waiting. The lady explained that she had decided not to wait to make the purchase, afraid someone else would get it first. Leigh Ann smiled. More good news to share with Melvin.

  Once the sculpture had been carefully packed up, Leigh Ann escorted the customer out, holding the door open for her and wishing her a good evening. Then she closed and locked the door and hung up the closed sign. Turning back to the room, she saw Regina helping Esther add a new, obviously handmade western shirt to the clothing display. “That looks great!”

  “It’s still pinned in spots, but it will look fine to customers,” Esther said. “I’ll take some material home and finish another top tomorrow afternoon.”

  “You don’t have to do that, tomorrow’s Sunday,” Leigh Ann reminded her.

  “I need something to help me unwind,” Esther said. “Days … are long at home—even the Lord’s day.”

  As Esther walked into the back to punch her time card and collect her purse, Regina remained behind with Leigh Ann. “Del’s already gone, and I’ve got to clock out, too. Mom’s got a part-time job as a waitress at the Palomino Café in Kirtland so she has to get ready for her shift.”

  “Go. I’m waiting for Melvin, so I’ll be here a little longer,” Leigh Ann said, recalling her own six-month stint as a waitress at the Bullfrog Tavern, just off the Navajo Nation.

  A café without a liquor license was probably a better gig than a bar, though she didn’t know what was worse, an amorous drunk or a bawling child whose parents were oblivious.

  Regina’s mom could probably handle it. Leigh Ann had met the woman, and she didn’t take crap from man or beast. The thought made her smile.

  As soon as the others left, Leigh Ann turned down the lights, made sure the registers balanced, then put all the cash into the safe in Jo’s office. She was just finishing when she heard a knock at the front entrance.

  Leigh Ann stepped into the doorway of the office and looked down the main aisle, spotting the familiar pickup parked in the lot. Grabbing her purse, she flipped off the light and walked out the door, keys in hand.

  “Hi, guys!”

  John gave her a nod. “You’re all set, nephew,” he told Melvin, who was standing on the gravel beside the passenger side door. “I’ll be going now.”

  “See you later, John,” Leigh Ann said.

  “You ready to go?” Melvin asked, stepping forward, feeling his way over the concrete parking barrier.

  “Yep. Let me lock up, then we’ll be on our way,” she said. “On the way home I’m going to make a quick stop, okay? I want to pick up some sparkling apple cider. It’ll help us turn dinner into a celebration. I’ve got some good news for you!”

  — THREE —

  Upon her arrival at the tribal hospital, Jo turned over the herbal tea container to the doctors treating Rudy. One of the lab people, a Navajo well versed in native herbs and regional plants, had been told of the symptoms and already had a theory. Based on her description of the symptoms and their onset, he suspected that Rudy’s tea had been contaminated with chopped azucena de Mejico berries—belladonna. The berries tended to be sweet and masked easily by the traditional herbal tea the hataalii preferred.

  “Tell me why you immediately suspected that he’d been poisoned,” the Navajo tribal police officer standing at the nurses’ station counter asked, questioning Jo as he filled out an incident report.

  “I didn’t know he’d been poisoned—he did,” she said. “He pointed to the teacup and tried to tell me, but by then, he couldn’t speak.”

  “You have no idea how the berries got into his tea?”

  “If you’re implying I had something to do with this—” Jo said angrily.

  “Ma’am, I’m not implying anything. You’ve already stated that the hataalii was drinking from the cup when you arrived. I’m just trying to establish a timeline and sequence of events.”

  “I was in the middle of a Sing I’d been trying to learn for weeks, concentrating on that,” she answered, mollified. “By the time I glanced over at him, he was already in distress and showing symptoms.”

  “Beside the patient and his wife, do you know who else might have had access to that tea?” the officer asked.

  “Any of his guests or patients could have contaminated the container, I suppose. He keeps it in the medicine hogan on a shelf, but anyone could have gained access. The entrance is covered only by a wool blanket.”

  “That’s according to the old ways,” the officer said, nodding. “Do you know if your teacher has any enemies or if anyone has threatened him recently?”

  She nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do. The fiancé of a former patient accused my teacher and me of not giving the young woman the proper treatment when she came to us. She died a few days after the pollen blessing.”

  “How, exactly, did she die?”

  “The doctors here should know. From what I heard, it sounded like she had a heart attack,” Jo replied.

  “What’s the man’s name?”

  She shook her head. “Names have power. My teacher didn’t share that with me.”

  The officer nodded, then brought a small notepad from his pocket and handed it to her with a pen. “Then write down the patient’s name. I can get the boyfriend’s name from her family.”

  The officer was respecting the Navajo custom of not speaking the name of the deceased aloud so soon after the fact, and Jo appreciated
that. She wrote down the name: Rosemary Bernal.

  Just then, a doctor came out of a double door and walked over to Victoria. “Excuse me a moment, please,” Jo said, stepping over to join Rudy’s wife.

  “He’s out of danger now,” the doctor told them, “but some of the symptoms will persist for a while. With that in mind, we’d like to keep him overnight, just to be safe.”

  Victoria nodded. “May I sit with him?”

  “Of course.”

  Jo remained next to Victoria as the doctor left. “Your husband’s getting the best of care, but I’ll be happy to keep you company.”

  Victoria smiled, and shook her head. “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s not necessary. I know you have things to do, so don’t worry. My husband and I will both be fine.”

  “All right then.” Jo returned to where the police officer waited. “There may be more of that tea at the hogan. Would you like to follow me back there and collect it?”

  “Good idea. Lead the way.”

  Jo walked out to her truck. All things considered, Rudy had been lucky. If she hadn’t been there …

  She suppressed the shudder that ran up her spine. Though it had been a long day, she doubted she’d get much sleep tonight.

  * * *

  Leigh Ann happily served her sister and Melvin her specialty, what she called New Mexican lasagna. It was her own recipe, made with lasagna noodles, fresh green chile salsa and cheddar cheese. Since tonight was a celebration she refused to count the calories and put a good-sized portion onto her own plate.

  Before long, Rachel helped herself to seconds. “I’m going to have to run for five miles to work this off,” she said, “but it’s just so darned good.”

  “It is,” Melvin agreed and asked for another serving.

  A phone rang somewhere in the room and Rachel said, “That’s my cell, so it’s probably Charlie. I think I’ll skip dessert. Excuse me,” she added as she stood and hurried over to the coffee table where she’d placed her purse.

  “Charlie’s her boss. They’re dating now,” Leigh Ann explained.

  “That could get awkward,” Melvin said.

  “Guys, I’m taking off for a bit,” Rachel said, walking back toward the table. “Charlie wants to talk to me about something, so we’re meeting for drinks at the Bullfrog Tavern.”

  “You’re going to have a conversation at the noisiest bar in the county?” Leigh Ann asked, surprised.

  “I forgot you waitressed there for a while,” Rachel said. “Now that I think of it, you might want to bring Melvin and come along. Back to your old stomping grounds, sis.”

  “I never stomped, I waited tables and ended up hating the place. Why would I ever want to go back?” Leigh Ann asked.

  “Pierre Boone hangs out there,” she said. “You need to talk to Kurt’s former partners about what you found in that box and it’ll be safer in a crowded, public place. They’re not bound to get defensive there, even if you stick your foot in your mouth.”

  Leigh Ann said nothing for a moment or two. “No,” she said at last.

  “Suit yourself,” Rachel said and shrugged. “See you later, Melvin. It was nice having you over for supper.”

  “Good talking to you, too,” Melvin said, leaning back in his chair.

  “You ready for some dessert?” Leigh Ann asked.

  “Coffee would be great, but nothing else.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’d rather just talk for a bit.”

  Leigh Ann got the coffeepot going and returned to the table.

  “Rachel might be on to something,” Melvin said. “If you’ve turned up information you think Kurt’s former partners may not like, talking in a place like that may work to your advantage. Neither man is likely to give you trouble there, and even if the guys decide to follow up on it later, they’ll have had time to cool off.”

  She sighed. “Not tonight. I need time to think it through. Kurt’s entire life was a maze of lies and secrets.”

  “So what’s this about a box? What’s going on?”

  “It’s not about Kurt’s women this time, at least.” Months ago, in a moment of weakness and needing the comfort of his friendship, she’d confided in Melvin, telling him about Kurt’s girlfriends. “This is something totally different, but I don’t understand most of it yet,” she said, then told him what they’d found in the attic.

  “You know what bothers me most about all this? I spent years married to a man I never really knew. I saw only what I wanted to see. How could I have been so gullible?”

  “Whatever Kurt did is out of your hands now. Maybe you should just let the past go.”

  “I can’t. The past will keep finding me, just like that box in the attic, until I deal with it once and for all.”

  He nodded slowly. “You can’t forget and let go until you have closure. I get it.”

  Once again she heard the edge of darkness that lay just beyond his sexy smile. She wondered about that side of him, the one he never showed the world. Yet as badly as she wanted to know more, she didn’t push. That was a line neither of them ever crossed. Their friendship had boundaries.

  “If you think Kurt hid stolen money in a storage locker,” he said, “why don’t we go over there right now and take a look?”

  “I’m not sure the place is even open this time of night.”

  “Give them a call. I have a feeling they don’t keep banker’s hours. The people who use those places often have to go there after work and on weekends.”

  “Good point, but I still don’t have a key.”

  He smiled, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a combination knife. “I used to be very good at picking locks.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “You were?”

  “Practically gifted,” he said, chuckling. “As a kid, I was always taking doorknobs and locks apart to see how they worked. It drove my parents crazy.”

  “Okay then.” She found the number on a phone search and called. A minute later, she hung up. “I got a recording, but if it’s up to date, they’re open ’til midnight.”

  He stood. “Coffee can wait.”

  They were on their way moments later. Leigh Ann had grabbed a copy of Kurt’s death certificate along with the rental receipt.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you want to get involved in this?” she asked as she entered the city limits of Farmington, which was twenty miles to the east along the river valley. “I have no idea what I’ll find except that it’ll be something illegal. I may be getting you involved in a very dangerous situation.”

  “Leigh Ann, you worry too much. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m just trying to look out for a friend,” she answered.

  “I know, and I appreciate it, but you’re doing me a favor by letting me get involved.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I’m between projects now,” he said. “This is the time I’d usually go visit the art classes at the elementary school. Unfortunately, the semester is almost over and funding cuts have taken away most of the summer art programs for the kids. Volunteering at the schools, dealing with the kids … that’s what helped me unwind. Without those visits I’m too alone with my thoughts, and that often takes me down some very dark trails. I need to be occupied, to keep my mind busy. Being around the kids helped me create new art—being around you … even more so.”

  “I inspire you?”

  “You do in ways I find hard to put into words,” he said.

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Leigh Ann said.

  “It’s the truth.”

  She parked at the curb outside the high wall of the storage facility, her hands now shaking so badly at the moment she almost dropped her keys. “We’re here. The gated entrance is about fifty feet away,” she said, but made no move to get out of the car.

  “Relax, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’ll be all right,” he said quietly. “No matter what you find here t
onight, we’ll figure things out and go from there. Take it one step at a time.”

  “Good advice.” She took a deep breath, sat perfectly still for a moment, then finally climbed out of the Jeep and walked around the front to the passenger’s side. “There’s a sidewalk, but you have to step up at the curb,” she said through Melvin’s half-open window.

  He opened the door and stepped out carefully, feeling with the tip of his boot. “This is the time of day when I find it almost impossible to see anything at all. I can see shapes of people and objects when I get close enough, but at night even those disappear into the background unless there’s really strong lighting.”

  “Do you want to stay in the Jeep?”

  “Not if I’ll need to pick a lock. It’s true that I have a hard time getting around at night, but I may still be able to help you. I can detect scents that you wouldn’t necessarily notice, for example, and hear the slightest whisper. My touch is heightened, too.”

  Leigh Ann’s thoughts strayed as her anxiety was replaced with other emotions that led in another direction entirely. She’d always been more comfortable making love in the dark. It had been her way of hiding, of holding on to the piece of her soul she’d never surrendered. Now instinct told her that with Melvin there’d be no lines, no barriers left uncrossed. She bit back a sigh.

  “The dark can reveal secrets we’d never share otherwise,” he murmured.

  A delicious shiver ran up her spine; there was a tiny hitch in her breath.

  Melvin said nothing, but she saw the ghost of smile touch the corners of his mouth.

  Forcing herself to focus, she wound her arm around his and walked to the storage facility’s office, a small room just inside the tall, sliding panel, metal gates. As they entered, a young, attractive Hispanic woman smiled and rose from a tall stool behind the counter. “Melvin! I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  Melvin paused for a beat, then said, “Jenny, is that you?”

  “You remember!” she said, coming around the counter and giving him a hug. “I haven’t seen you since you and Kathy broke up. I kept hoping you’d come by the house just to say hi,” she said, snuggling into him.