by Aimée Thurlo
“It wasn’t a dire emergency, but I figured I better play it safe and not push it,” John said quickly.
“I don’t know how you define ‘emergency’ but I heard you curse the orange gas pump symbol, and that’s a sign the truck’s almost out of gas,” Melvin said, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Memory like an elephant,” John grumbled. “Yeah, that’s true enough. But I can usually make it another fifteen or twenty miles. I … tested it once.”
Melvin burst out laughing. “That means you’ve run out of gas before. Where did that happen?”
“On that highway west of Morgan Lake. I had to hike six miles to the Chapter House to catch a ride,” he admitted grudgingly, then glanced up at the clock. “I’d better hurry. I’m meeting a man about a horse and I’m late. I’m sorry that I have to drop you off so early at the doctor’s, Melvin, but they’ve got a comfortable waiting room so you’ll be fine.”
“Melvin, if you’d like you could have a late breakfast here and we’ll find someone to give you a ride later,” Jo said. “After all, you’re one of our most talented artists. You’re also welcome to pick up a breakfast burrito on the way out, John. They’re fresh. My treat.”
“I’ll take breakfast and the ride,” Melvin said.
“I’ll be on my way then,” John said. “Thanks for the breakfast offer, Jo, but I’m good.” He nodded to Leigh Ann and hurried out.
Melvin chuckled as he heard the bell over the door. “I think I’ve pissed him off.”
“How so?” Jo asked.
“Uncle John hates being wrong, and he especially didn’t like a blind man suggesting that he almost ran out of gas,” he said. “The thing about John is that he takes care of the big things, like picking me up, but tends not to bother with the details,” he said.
Regina, who’d finished her work at the dairy case, came over.
“Hello, Regina,” Melvin said easily.
“How did you know it was me?” Regina asked.
“It’s the way you walk. You move with very little sound, like on tiptoes. You’re very light on your feet.”
Leigh Ann’s stomach tightened. She suspected that Regina had acquired that ability as a way of not attracting attention after years of being married to an abusive man.
“Hey, who called the staff meeting?” Esther said, coming over with a smile on her face.
Leigh Ann looked over at Jo. “Since most of us are here, do you think this would be a good time to tell everyone what’s been happening lately and why the store locks had to be rekeyed this morning?”
“I haven’t heard all the details of last night’s incident from you either, Leigh Ann. So why don’t you start?” Jo asked.
“Last night?” Melvin asked quickly. “Does this have something to do with the deputy who dropped by my house about nine P.M.? Once he figured out I couldn’t have seen anyone, he asked if I’d heard any vehicles passing by. He mentioned something about an attempted carjacking?”
“I ran into some trouble after I left your place, Melvin,” Leigh Ann said, then told them about the van and the men wearing masks and carrying clubs. When she finished, all eyes were on her.
“And all they took were a few dollars and your keys?” Regina asked, surprised.
“Yeah, but they searched the Jeep from top to bottom, even dumping out the contents of my glove box. The deputy thought they were looking for something specific—just what, I’m not sure,” she said, then added, “My sister is having our house locks rekeyed this morning. You should do the same, Melvin.”
“I’ll get it done, don’t worry,” he answered.
Jo filled everyone in about the poison in Rudy’s tea, the vandalism at The Outpost, the time when Leigh Ann and she had been run off the road and, lastly, the medicine pouch she’d found on the back door this morning.
“Are we all in danger again, like when Tom was killed?” Regina asked, looking at the faces around her.
“From what I can see, Jo and I are the only targets,” Leigh Ann said. “As for why Jo’s being targeted … That could be the result of being with the wrong person, me. Keep in mind that I was alone when those men came after me.”
“Is this all connected to the deputy who came by to talk to you?” Regina asked. “I couldn’t help but notice.”
Leigh Ann wasn’t quite ready to share all the details, but she wouldn’t lie to them either. “I found some papers in my attic that indicated my late husband may have been involved in some shady business practices,” she said, then added, “That may have been what the Jeep-jackers were looking for—more papers—but I’d already handed everything over to the detectives.”
“Uncle John works at a farm supply business that competes with Total Supply,” Melvin said. “He told me that every time they bid for a tribal contract, Total Supply manages to undercut their price by a small margin. John thinks that there’s some under-the-table dealings going on with tribal officials, but he can’t prove it.”
“That’s interesting,” Leigh Ann said, “but the papers I found only involved my late husband, and had nothing to do with tribal contracts. At least I don’t think so.”
“Leigh Ann and I will stay on guard, but it wouldn’t hurt for the rest of you to do the same,” Jo said. “If you notice anything out of the ordinary, or you think you’re being watched or followed, call the sheriff immediately.”
Leigh Ann looked at her watch. “Melvin, you’ll have to eat now if you’re going to have breakfast before your doctor’s visit.”
Esther took his arm. “Let me show you where we keep the good stuff.”
Regina walked to the front cash register, where a customer with a shopping cart was headed, as Leigh Ann took a quick look around. No other customers were in the store so she decided to join Melvin and Esther in the break room.
Before she could, Jo touched her arm and held her back. “We need to talk.”
“If this is about Melvin’s new sculpture, I don’t know much more than what he’s already told you.”
“That’s not it. I want to go to my teacher’s house. I called him earlier today to make sure nothing bad had been left at his place, but found out they’re staying with Victoria’s cousin for a few days. Since my teacher’s still unable to drive and is relying on relatives to take him and Victoria whenever they need to go, he asked that I go check.”
“Let’s both go and I’ll help you look around. We’ll drop Melvin off first, then keep going. Right now we should travel in pairs as often as possible.”
“I agree. Do you mind if we use your Jeep? My truck’s at Benny’s Garage right now, getting a tune-up,” Jo said. “I won’t have it back for another couple of hours.”
“That’s fine, but I’m curious. You never drive the truck that belongs to the trading post. How come?”
“I use it for business on occasion, but it really belongs to Ben now.”
“And everything in it reminds you of where he is, and the danger he’s facing,” she said, not bothering to turn it into a question.
“Yeah, it’s like that,” Jo admitted.
“Let me see if Melvin’s ready, then we’ll go.”
“Wait.” Jo reached into her medicine pouch and gave Leigh Ann an arrowhead.
“What’s this?” Leigh Ann asked her.
“Flint. I know you’re not Navajo, but I hope you’ll keep it in your shirt pocket. If we find something bad at my teacher’s place, it’ll protect both of us.”
Less than ten minutes later they set out. Jo insisted on sitting in the back, so Melvin took the front passenger’s seat. Noticing that he was being unusually quiet, Leigh Ann asked, “Are you worried about your doctor’s visit?”
“No, it’s only a check-up,” he said. “I was thinking about my new sculpture. I need to work out some details.”
A gust of wind blew in through her open window and Leigh Ann shook her head, trying to get the strands that had worked loose from her ponytail away from her face. Using one hand, she
tried to tuck her hair back beneath the rubber band, but the elastic snapped.
“Melvin, will you reach into the glove compartment that’s directly in front of you and feel around for a hair scrunchie? There should be one in there.”
He did as she asked. “There’s a pencil, some paper, and a … piece of metal with a hole. A bent-up washer, maybe?”
Leigh Ann felt her breath catch at the back of her throat. “Beg your pardon?”
He brought it out so she could see.
Leigh Ann stared at it in shock, then quickly focused back on the road, hoping Jo hadn’t noticed her reaction. That had been Kurt’s lucky piece. He’d taped a quarter to the bull’s-eye of a target one day, and shot a hole right through it. Since then he’d always carried the coin with him. Yet it hadn’t been among the items the police had brought back to her. She’d wondered where it had gone, but really hadn’t given it much thought. At the time, she’d had a lot more important things to occupy her mind.
Now, here it was. She knew it hadn’t been in that compartment before because she washed the Jeep and cleaned out the glove box once a week. A chill settled over her as she realized that she’d searched to see what might have been taken from the Jeep, but had never thought that anything might have been added.
“Leigh Ann, are you okay?” Melvin asked.
“Yeah, I just hadn’t seen that coin in a long time.” There was only one possible answer. The lucky piece had been taken by Kurt’s killer, and he wanted her to know he had his eye on her.
“Here’s the hair band,” Melvin said at last.
She took it from him, but decided to leave her hair loose for now. Her hands were shaking, and trying to fix her hair while steering probably wouldn’t be a great idea.
“If you don’t mind me interrupting, Melvin, tell me about your new project,” Jo said from the back, unaware of what had just happened.
“It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but wasn’t sure how to go about it,” Melvin answered. “It’s going to take some time though. This kind of piece needs to develop in my mind first.” He looked over at Leigh Ann and smiled.
“So, in the meantime, what should we tell customers wanting one of your animal sculptures?” Jo asked.
“We’ll work things out. My new project isn’t something I can work on continuously, at least at this point. In the interim, my animal sculptures will help me stay focused and relaxed.”
This time, when he looked over at Leigh Ann, he winked. It was clear he was going to keep this a secret between them, at least for now.
Minutes later they arrived at the medical center. Leigh Ann found a handicapped parking space and pulled in. “Okay we’re here, Melvin.”
Leigh Ann got out of the car, circled around, and took his arm as he climbed out. “Jo, I’ll walk in with Melvin and be right back. You might want to move the Jeep, though. I don’t have a handicapped sticker.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
As they walked into the building, Leigh Ann tried to stay calm. She’d disliked hospitals as far back as she could remember—the antiseptic smell, the white uniforms, the carts, the odd sounds …
“You hate hospitals?” he noted in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Your muscles tightened up the second we stepped inside, and you’ve got a tight grip on my arm,” he answered, placing his hand over hers.
She eased up instantly.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to walk me in. A lot of people hate hospitals, particularly traditionalist Navajos, though their reasons are undoubtedly different from yours.”
“How so?”
“Since death occurs here, hospitals aren’t considered safe places to be,” he said. “John isn’t a traditionalist, but he still won’t go past the entrance unless he has no other choice. He drops me off and I rely on the staff to take me to any new destination.”
“With me it’s nothing more than a dumb phobia. I’m fine,” she said, and pressed the elevator button that would take them to the second floor.
“When are you going to tell me about that metal piece—the coin with the bullet hole in its middle?” he asked as the elevator began its ascent.
“We’re here,” she said as they came to a stop. “That story will have to wait.” After getting his doctor’s name, she led him down the hall. “Here’s the office,” she said.
“One thing before you leave. I’m going to have my own locks rekeyed, but hang on to the old key until I can give you the new one. I want to remind you that you still have an open invitation to my home.”
“Thanks for doing this,” she said. It was more than just the key, he was letting her know he still had faith in her. A lump formed at the back of her throat. “It means a lot,” she added in a thick voice.
As soon as they walked into the office, the receptionist came over and took Melvin’s arm. “It’s good to see you again,” she said in greeting.
Knowing he was in good hands, Leigh Ann stepped back. “If you can give me an approximate time when you’ll be through here, I’ll make arrangements to pick you up,” she said.
“Thanks, but there’s no need. John will come get me, we’ll have a late lunch, and afterward he’ll drive me home.”
“All right, Melvin. See you later.”
As Leigh Ann hurried out, she decided not to tell Jo about Kurt’s lucky coin. She knew traditional Navajos stayed away from the possessions of the dead. They were said to be contaminated with the chindi, the evil side of a man that was condemned to remain earthbound after death.
As for herself, she wished the danged thing would have stayed lost. Everything connected to Kurt brought back toxic memories and trouble.
— EIGHT —
“If you tell me what I should be looking for, I’ll be better able to help you,” Leigh Ann said as she drove toward the Brownhats’ home, following Jo’s directions.
“It’s hard to say precisely. Look for anything that appears to have been left there for others to find, or something odd that doesn’t seem to belong. We’ll start by checking the front and back doors. The way I figure it is this—if the person who left that witch bag at the trading post went to my teacher’s place, too, he’ll want whatever he leaves behind to be seen. His goal is to instill fear in his victim.”
“That doesn’t seem like the work of the same person who threw paint on the side of the building,” Leigh Ann said.
“I know. I think we’re dealing with at least two different people,” Jo answered.
* * *
Rudy lived just west of Shiprock, north of Highway 64, and less than ten minutes from the clinic where they’d dropped off Melvin.
“Go down that dirt track.” Jo pointed toward the turnoff. “It leads directly to the medicine hogan. His home is about a hundred feet beyond there.”
As Leigh Ann approached, Jo sat up. “Slow down and stop about fifty feet from the hogan.”
“Sure,” Leigh Ann. “Is there a reason?”
“I want to check for tracks. The ground is fine sediment here, soft enough to leave impressions.”
“Oh, you want to do some amateur police work?”
“Yeah, and keep an eye out for any animal tracks leading up to the house, okay?”
“Like coyotes? I know they’re supposed to be bad luck,” Leigh Ann said.
“Coyote is known as the Trickster. He can bring whatever he wishes, but it’s generally not a good sign if you see one hanging around.”
Leigh Ann parked well away from the front of the hogan. Jo circled the hogan alone, searching the ground. Not finding any fresh signs, they made their way together to the house.
They checked the front entrance first, but saw nothing but two sets of shoe prints. “These look like they belong to my teacher and his wife,” Jo said.
They circled to the back next, and Leigh Ann helped Jo look around, but neither of them found any tracks other than those Jo had already identified as Rudy’s. Leigh Ann was read
y to call it a win until she saw Jo crouching near the back door.
“What did you find?” she asked.
“A trace of fur, maybe from a coyote or wolf.”
“Like stuff a skinwalker uses?”
Jo shot Leigh Ann a hard look. “Don’t use that word, especially here.”
“Sorry,” she said.
Jo reached into her medicine pouch and sprinkled a substance that looked like cornmeal on the ground.
As Jo chanted, Leigh Ann listened closely. She had long felt that there was something entrancing about Navajo Songs. Though many were basically monotonic, they often had a haunting quality that spoke of power and tradition so closely interlaced that neither could exist without the other.
After several minutes, Jo stood up. “Wait for me here,” she said. She walked around the corner of the house and out of sight. Soon another chant filled the air, softer, yet no less compelling than the first.
When Jo finally returned, she seemed more relaxed, as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders.
“Now we can go back to work,” Jo said.
“What did you do?” Leigh Ann asked.
“I conducted a blessing to take care of the danger to my teacher.”
“But the person, or people, are still out there,” Leigh Ann said, thinking of whoever was after her, too.
“That’s true, so we’ll have to be careful, but keep things in perspective. These people will eventually be caught. No matter how bad things get now, it won’t last forever.”
Leigh Ann nodded thoughtfully. Jo was right. Nothing ever stayed the same—even when you wished it could be so.
* * *
“Thanks for taking care of the locksmith today, Rachel, and for making copies of all those papers I turned over to the sheriff’s department. That ended up being a good call,” Leigh Ann said, filling her sister’s glass from a soft drink can.
“After what happened to you last night on the way home from Melvin’s, I think they might be even more important than we thought,” Rachel said.
“Nothing about this mess is simple or clear cut. Pierre and Wayne obviously lied about the money, so there’s something else going on.”
