Detective McGraw walked over from his vehicle, notebook in hand, and joined Leigh Ann as the crime scene team continued to search the area. “We’ve located the sniper’s position and are gathering evidence there. According to Mr. John, who broke up the attack, the shooter was using his vehicle door as a rest for a rifle. The footprints and tire tracks back that up, and we have a description of the vehicle, a new-looking silver SUV. But there are still things we need to know.”
“I’ve told you everything I can remember about what happened,” she said. “You’ve also got the recording I made of my conversation with Wayne Hurley. You copied it to your own phone, correct?”
“Yes, and thanks. However, we’ll need actual physical evidence and witness testimony in order to make an arrest,” McGraw said. “What you’ve gotten by going all cowboy on us is a lot of hearsay evidence.”
“But you also have another murder victim, plus a recording that should point you directly to his killer. In addition to that, the vehicle Ambrose saw is probably the SUV owned by Pierre Boone. If I’d brought a witness or the police along to this meeting, you think Wayne would have said anything besides hi and good-bye?”
“It was still a risky thing to do, and you could have ended up dead, along with your friends.”
“I doubt that,” Ambrose said, coming up. “I was closing in. If he hadn’t jumped into his SUV and raced away, I would have taken him out.”
“There’s a good chance that you wounded him,” McGraw said. “We found drops of blood on the ground beside the shell casings from the sniper’s rifle.”
“He was hunched over, sighting down the barrel, so I didn’t have a good sight picture,” Ambrose said with no particular inflection in his voice. “Still, I’m guessing there’s a hole or two in that door.”
“Copy that. You have a concealed carry permit, and this Colt .45 is your registered weapon. You might want to call the department tomorrow and see when they’ll be able to release it to you.”
Ambrose nodded.
“If we’re free to go, I have to get back to work,” Leigh Ann said.
McGraw nodded. “There’s a bullet hole in your Jeep, so you’ll have to leave it behind for now. We’ll need to process it for evidence, too.”
“How long before I get it back? It’s my only transportation.”
“It shouldn’t be long, maybe by the end of today if you’re lucky.”
* * *
Leigh Ann rode back with Ambrose and Melvin. “Thanks for checking up on me, guys, and for driving away that gunman, Ambrose,” she said, her purse on her lap. “You saved my life.”
“I understand why you felt you had to do this,” Melvin said, “but there’s a reason why even cops take backup.”
“I didn’t expect anyone to start shooting,” she said.
“Precisely my point,” Melvin answered.
Ambrose, who’d been quiet for a while, finally spoke. “I get you, Leigh Ann. I know exactly why you came alone. Your back was against the wall and you needed to prove something to yourself, no matter what anyone else thought.”
She looked over at him, the raw undertone in his words immediately capturing her attention.
“Back in high school, I was the weird gay guy, the pussy no one except Ben would hang out with. After graduation Ben left for the army and got his shit together, but I was still at loose ends. At the time, the military wasn’t an option for me.
“Around then, my uncle got diagnosed with cancer and asked me to help him finish a few pieces of Navajo jewelry he’d presold.”
“So that’s how you got started!” Leigh Ann said.
“I learned all I could from him, but for a long time I resisted making my own pieces. I’d just worked on his designs. Eventually, my uncle passed on and left his tools and supplies to me—along with a letter. In it, he said he understood I was tired of being judged, but that for the first time I was being given an even chance. My pieces would be valued on their own merit. The only question that remained was whether or not I had the balls to go for it.”
“You really didn’t know how good your own designs were?” she asked, surprised.
“No, I was pretty clueless. All of my life I’d been the guy who didn’t fit in anywhere. For all I knew, people would see my designs the same way. That’s why I went to Santa Fe to sell my pieces instead of Gallup or Farmington. I figured if I failed, it was far enough away I wouldn’t have to hear about it constantly, and it wouldn’t matter as much.” He smiled. “Of course, I sold everything the first day, even with all the competition.”
“Way to go!” Melvin said.
Ambrose smiled at Leigh Ann. “Meeting Wayne wasn’t just about clearing your name, was it, Leigh Ann?”
She gave him a thin smile. “No, it wasn’t,” she admitted.
Leigh Ann reached for Melvin’s hand. “Melvin, you’ve been there for me every step of the way, and I appreciate it, but I needed to face my enemies without hiding behind someone else. I had to prove that my fears couldn’t control me,” she added. “Wayne Hurley was the one who paid the price.”
“If you saw him as the weak link, you can bet Pierre did too,” Ambrose said. “He followed Wayne today because he didn’t trust him. Wayne’s days were already numbered.”
“Maybe so,” she admitted. “But I’ll never go solo like this again. Things can go wrong in the blink of an eye.”
* * *
Leigh Ann was at the back register talking to a customer who was purchasing groceries when her cousin Dale walked in wearing his sheriff’s department uniform: a khaki shirt and green trousers with the usual handgun and cuffs. Surprised, she smiled and waved at him. “Be with you in a minute.”
Dale waited until Leigh Ann was finished, then joined her. “Can we talk in private?”
Jo, who’d seen Dale enter the trading post, caught Leigh Ann’s attention and nodded toward the back. “Take my office.”
Leigh Ann led the way down the short hall and waved him to one of the chairs as she leaned back against Jo’s desk. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, cuz. Are you working with McGraw now?”
“Not officially,” he said. “I came because I wanted to make damned sure you never pull another stunt like the one you did today. I know you want to clear your name, but getting zipped up in a body bag isn’t going to help you much.”
She forced herself not to cringe. “Have they talked to Pierre Boone yet?”
“No. According to a clerk at Total Supply, Boone said he had to catch up to Wayne so he could sign some papers, then left. He never came back and he’s turned off his cell phone. We’re attempting to locate him now. If anything turns up, I’ll let you know. Until then, be very careful and avoid being alone.”
“What about Sorrelhorse? How’s he involved?”
“Tribal police detectives are talking to him, but until some concrete evidence pops up, law enforcement is still just fishing.”
“Melvin’s sure it was him,” she said.
“A voice ID alone doesn’t hold up well in court, Leigh Ann.”
“He’s blind, but incredibly attuned to his surroundings. His testimony is reliable.”
“I have no reason to question his honesty, but he’s been wrong before. I read some of the old accident reports, even going back to the childhood auto accident when his sister was killed. After the second wreck, years later, he reported having seen a young girl on the scene. No one was ever found, and there were too many footprints to prove one way or the other. The shrinks think he may have just gotten the two incidents confused, the result of confusion and head trauma. Besides, we need more than what he heard. Voices are easy to mimic, and we deal in facts.”
Leigh Ann walked Dale to the door. As they stepped out onto the porch, his cell phone rang. Dale looked at the display. “Tribal police, I’ve got to take this. Hang on a second, Leigh Ann.”
She nodded, then turned away to give him some privacy. The call didn’t take long, and when she turned to face him, he was smiling.
“Some good news,” he said. “The tribal police have arrested Sorrelhorse. The DNA taken from the blood on the tire iron that Melvin used to knock away the attacker’s knife has been tracked back to Sorrelhorse’s assistant, a man named Benally. Benally asked for a deal with the DA and turned his boss in for taking bribes and kickbacks. According to Benally, Sorrelhorse reviewed every contract offer that came in and was tipping off Total Supply so they could undercut everyone else.”
“Finally!” she said smiling. “That’s great.”
“There’s more: Benally confessed to throwing the paint and planting some witchcraft objects at the trading post. He also claimed that Sorrelhorse was the one who poisoned Rudy Brownhat,” Dale added.
“I’m guessing Pierre was one of the guys with the baseball bats and knives,” she said.
“I agree, which means you’ve still got to watch your back, Leigh Ann. We’ve got hard evidence now, but this is far from over,” Dale warned.
When she went back inside, Melvin came in to join her. “I was in the break room, but you must have left the office door open because I heard most of your conversation, including what your cousin told you about my twin sister. How did you find out about her?”
“When Sam did her Internet search to see if any girls had been reported missing around the time of your accident, she found an old newspaper account of what happened to your family. I was waiting for you to tell me when the time was right.”
He nodded slowly. “I took my sister’s death very hard. She and I were as opposite as two people could be, but we were still as close as, well, twins. What made things even worse were the rumors that started circulating about me,” he said.
“Melvin, I’m so sorry,” she said, taking his hand gently with both of hers.
“Leigh Ann, there’s one thing you’ve got to believe,” he said, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I know what the psychiatrist concluded, but the girl I saw the night Ronald Jonas ran me off the road wasn’t my imagined sister. Her age, size, and weight were different. My sister was fifteen when she died. The girl I saw was a lot younger.”
“Do you remember anything specific that might help us find her?”
Melvin smiled. “You believe me.”
“Yes, I do.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Thank you.”
She sighed, enjoying that moment of closeness. His chest felt hard, yet welcoming, and his arms were strong but gentle. Melvin was a maze of contradictions, but she was hopelessly in love with him. He was special in every way. A blind artist who saw with his soul, he could create a masterpiece with his hands, or make her melt with a fleeting touch. He could be gentle when she needed it, or passionate and rough. He could take control or relinquish it with equal ease.
“I love you, Leigh Ann, and my love doesn’t come with demands, nor does it require anything from you in return. It just is.”
She placed her fingertips over his mouth. “It’s because I love you, too, that I won’t hold you to this. Remember that.”
“Leigh Ann, I know you have something you’re keeping from me, and that it has to do with our visit with the Jonas family. Your reaction when we were with the father gave yourself away. Trust me and tell me what it is. Let’s work through this together.”
“I will tell you, but I’m not ready yet,” she said, stepping back.
“You want to look at the sculpture I’ve finished. When you do, you’ll be able to see yourself as I see you. Will you honor the balance and tell me then?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “All right.”
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, his voice steady and sure.
He was wrong. Some things were impossible to forgive. “For now, let’s keep looking for the little girl you saw. Are you okay with that?”
“You bet.”
Leigh Ann glanced back one more time. Regina was manning the cash register and Esther was serving someone at the coffee bar, so no help was needed out front. “Let’s go into the break room for a few minutes, have something cold to drink, and work on this.”
“All right,” he said, reaching out and letting her take his hand.
When they reached the doorway, Leigh Ann saw Jo and Ambrose inside. They were discussing the details of a permanent sign that would promote the new additions to The Outpost.
Leigh Ann stopped. “Melvin, let’s postpone our brainstorming session for now and just grab a drink.”
“No problem, come on in. We’re almost through,” Jo said, standing.
“Jo, could you stick around for a moment longer?” Melvin asked. “You’re an apprentice hataalii, so I was hoping you could help me with something. I need to fill in some gaps, details that happened the night of the accident that cost me my sight. Do you know a way to restore memory?”
“There are several ways,” she said. “I’d start with a special pollen blessing and ask you to meditate on Long-Life Boy and Happiness Girl. Together, they stand for the continuance of happiness. They represent contentment and peace that lasts. I’d work with the Plant People, too, and compel them to help you.”
“I’d like to hire you and get this done as soon as possible,” Melvin said.
Jo hesitated. “I’m only an apprentice. You need my teacher. If you’re interested, speak to him, but do it soon. He has many patients and a busy schedule.”
Melvin shook his head. “This is very personal, and I don’t want anyone else involved, Jo. Will you do this for me?”
Jo considered it. “It would have to be a brief blessing, not a ceremony,” she said at last.
“Can we do it today?” Melvin asked.
She took a minute to think it through. “We could do it after work, if you want,” Jo said, and seeing him nod, continued. “I’ll start gathering the things I’ll need and place them in the hogan.” She left immediately and Leigh Ann heard her go into her office.
“Will that work?” Leigh Ann whispered to Ambrose.
“Growing up on the Rez, I saw many things I couldn’t explain,” Ambrose said. “If anyone can help Melvin, it’ll be Jo.”
Melvin gave Leigh Ann’s arm a squeeze. “I’m not a Traditionalist, but like Ambrose, I’ve learned that the things we can’t explain are often the most effective.”
* * *
After the trading post closed for the day they gathered behind Ben’s home in the newly constructed log hogan he’d funded. Leigh Ann had only been in it once, at Jo’s invitation, and then it was just to look around.
Jo sat in the rear, on the west side of the hogan along with Melvin, her patient. Leigh Ann and Ambrose sat at the south and north, respectively. According to Jo, these positions were based upon tradition.
To begin, Jo offered Melvin a cup of specially brewed herbal tea. “The Holy People gave the Diné special plants, ones we could turn to for help. The Plant People are there for us and they’ll help us accomplish what we have to do now. I’ve used a very special medicine, Tádídíín dootłizh nitsaaígíí, what’s known as large blue pollen.”
As Melvin drank, Jo closed her eyes in silent prayer. “I want you to repeat everything I say, word for word,” she told Melvin, then turned over the basket in front of her and began using it as a drum.
As her Song rose in the air, Leigh Ann remained perfectly still. The monotone chant held a mesmerizing quality that seemed to resonate with power and the richness of traditions she didn’t understand.
The haunting quality of Jo’s Sing drew her in, and she felt herself relaxing. Its soothing nature wove itself around her, pushing away everything except the harmony the Song brought as a gift to those present.
Jo handed Melvin a special pouch. “In this bag are a rock crystal and some sacred pollen. During creation, a crystal was placed in the mouth of every person so that everything he or she said would come true. Pollen is a symbol of well-being, so in this case, the crystal acts as your prayer, the pollen as the blessing of harmony.”
“Thank you,” Melvin said, holding on to the pouch.
“I want you to meditate on Happiness Girl and Long-Life Boy. One of the many things they represent is achievement of a goal—success.”
They sat in silence. After several minutes, Melvin’s breathing became more rhythmic.
“Shut out all other sounds and listen only to my voice,” Jo said. “Think about that night. What do you see in your mind?”
“The glare of headlights, then the car, upside down, bobbing in the water, its wheels still turning.”
“Concentrate only on the sounds around you. What do you hear?” Jo asked.
“Water rushing by, bubbling, and a voice … calling to me.”
“A man’s voice? A woman’s?” Jo asked.
“No, a girl’s. It’s a high-pitched sound above the rushing water.”
“What’s she saying?”
“Hurry, uncle, swim. I’ll pull you out.”
“Now focus on her and tell me about her.”
“She’s standing in ankle-deep water, reaching out to me with one hand.”
“Her hair, is it long or short?” Jo asked, her voice calm, soothing.
“Long, down to her waist, and black. She’s Navajo.”
A small noise caught Leigh Ann’s attention and she looked over at Ambrose. He was writing something on a small pad.
“Is her hair loose?” Jo asked.
“No, it’s braided, on one side. My right side, her left.”
“Is she wearing glasses?” Jo continued.
“Yes, dark frames.”
“Is she thin, medium, or heavy set?” Jo asked.
“Slender—straight up and down,” Melvin answered, his voice calm. “Lanky.”
“Tell me what she wearing,” Jo said.
“Jeans and a light-colored T-shirt. There’s something drawn across it. It’s long and slender and pointed on one end.” He remained silent for a moment. “It’s a blue feather.”
Melvin used one hand to wipe the perspiration off his forehead and expelled his breath in a hiss. “The images are gone. Now there’s only gray.”
“We are finished,” Jo said. “The blessing has been given and it is done. Now all is well.”
As Jo brought the blessing to a close, Melvin tried to hand the medicine pouch back to her, but Jo declined.
“It’s for you to keep. It’s part of the blessing.”
While Leigh Ann, Melvin, and Ambrose returned to the trading post, Jo remained behind to gather up the items she’d used and to restore order.
Sam, who’d arrived in the interim to work on software, greeted them with a smile and went to the café counter to fix herself an Outpost Blast.
Leigh Ann looked at Ambrose. “What were you writing back there?”
“I wasn’t writing. I was sketching the girl based on Melvin’s description.” He turned the pad so she could see the image.
“That was a good idea,” Melvin said. “It’s all fading away again for me.”
“I made some mocha cappuccinos for all of you,” Sam said, coming to join them. “They’re on me.”
They sat down, and once Jo joined them, Ambrose passed around his sketch so they could all study it.
“The T-shirt looks familiar,” Jo said, mulling it over.
Sam took a look. “That’s the logo of Cottonwood Elementary School, a private school over in Waterflow. Their mascot is the piñon jay,” Sam said. “My oldest sister’s niece is a first-grader there.”
“That’s the closest community to where the accident occurred,” Melvin said.
Ambrose studied his sketch with a critical eye. “It’s a pretty generic image—thin Navajo girl with the characteristic high cheekbones, dark eyes, and the rest. It’s the glasses and braid down one side that may open up some possibilities.”
“But kids change and that was what she looked like five years ago,” Melvin said.
“We know the school the girl attended back then, so if we can access some old yearbooks from that time period, we might get a hit,” Leigh Ann said.
“It’s useless to try and find anything like that online,” Sam said. “Yearbooks with photos of underage children tend not to show up until those people become adults. It protects the kids.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Melvin said. “Look how far we’ve come. Jo?” he added, looking toward the place where he’d last heard her voice.
“I’m here,” she answered.
“Thank you. What you did for me…”
“Was only a favor for a friend,” she said.
Leigh Ann watched them and smiled. The trading post was the glue that held them together. As long as it stood, none of them would ever have to fight alone.
* * *
Jo opened the back door slowly, wondering why everyone had come in so early this morning. It was barely six thirty and the staff parking area was full of cars. Even Ambrose had skipped breakfast to hurry over from the house. As she crossed the storeroom, she heard laughter in the break room.
“We hear you, boss,” Leigh Ann called out. “Come and join us. Regina brought fried pies, I made coffee, and Ambrose is about to sing.”
“Just a sec,” Jo replied, hurrying into her office and moving the computer mouse to wake up the screen. No emails. There was still no word on Ben.
Leaving her purse, she walked into the break room, deciding not to let her mood ruin the day. “I didn’t know Ambrose could sing,” she said, glancing at Leigh Ann, Melvin, Regina, and Ambrose, who were seated around the big table, pastry and coffee in front of each of them.
They all laughed at her comment, especially Ambrose. “I can’t, but I’m so hungry I was ready to do anything to get you in here. We’re having a small celebration this morning. With Sorrelhorse in jail and Pierre Boone on the run, things are definitely looking up.”
Regina offered Jo a plate with a golden fried pie. “Peach?”
“My favorite, thanks,” Jo said, taking a seat. “So what is this really, a bribe? You all want a raise?”
“Yeah, and I don’t even work here,” Melvin replied, eliciting laughter.
Esther came down the hall carrying a heavy tote bag.
“More goodies?” Jo asked, taking a cup of coffee offered by Leigh Ann, who was seated closest to the coffeepot.
“Of a sort. Sorry I’m late, people, but it took me longer than expected to get what I needed.” Esther took several school yearbooks from her bag. “Sam told me what you all learned last night. Since my neighbor’s kids all went to Cottonwood Elementary when they were young, I was sure I could borrow some yearbooks.
“I borrowed ones dating as far back as seven years,” she continued. “If the girl you saw that night attended that school, Melvin, she’ll be in one of these. This may take some time, but it’ll be easier than going to the school and trying to wade through their red tape.”
“That’s great, Esther. We’ll look through these during our breaks today and compile a list of names that might fit Ambrose’s sketch,” Leigh Ann said.
“I’ll leave them all here in the corner,” Esther said, setting down the bag. “Now I’m going to try one of Regina’s fried pies. Any apple ones left?”
“Sure,” Regina said. “I saved one for you.”
Ambrose stood and pulled back an empty chair. “Sit over here, Esther. Join me, or I’ll sing.”
* * *
Leigh Ann unlocked the front door for business, greeting three customers already waiting on the porch. Two of them headed directly for the coffee bar, where Esther was waiting to serve them, and the third grabbed a shopping cart.
Ambrose and Melvin had joined forces and were setting up at a table where their artistic skills could be seen and discussed by anyone who came inside.
Jo was at the front register, so Leigh Ann decided to sneak into the break room and take a quick look through the yearbook that coincided with the time of Melvin’s accident.
She started with the oldest children, the fifth-graders. Leigh Ann looked at two classes and found five girls wearing glasses, but the only two who had slender faces weren’t Navajo. One was black, the other was white, what locals called an Anglo. She flipped to the fourth-graders. Two had glasses, but they were light-colored frames and only one had long hair.
Leigh Ann wrote down her name anyway, and decided to look at the group photos in the front more closely, hoping to spot a girl with a braid. As she leafed through the pages, she found a listing for “late comers.” Among the photos there was one of a girl who fit Melvin’s description almost perfectly—the hair, the braid, and the slender build. She was also a fifth-grader.
“Got you,” Leigh Ann said, quickly writing the girl’s name on a sticky note.
“Meaning our mystery girl?” Ambrose said, stepping into the room.
“Look at the photo, then your sketch,” Leigh Ann said, pointing at the images. Ambrose did and smiled.
“Irene Largo. Hopefully, she still lives in the area.”
“The Largo name sounds familiar to me, but I’m not sure why,” Leigh Ann said.
“If she goes to Kirtland Central now, maybe Del knows her,” Ambrose said.
“I’ll ask when he comes in,” she said.
Ambrose poured two cups of coffee. “When I take Melvin his cup, you want me to tell him you’ve got a hit?”
“Yeah, but remind him that all we’ve really got is a possibility. By the end of today, we may have found other girls who also fit the sketch,” Leigh Ann said.
“Good point.”
Hearing the office phone ring, Leigh Ann hurried down the hall to answer it. Jo, coming from the opposite direction, got to it first. “Hello. The Outpost. Josephine Buck speaking.”
Leigh Ann stood, wondering if this was The Call. Then she remembered that in the case of death or serious injury the army delivered that news in person.
“Yes, Lieutenant, this is Jo Buck,” Jo said quickly, her voice somber. “Have you heard anything more about Ben? I mean, Sergeant Stuart.”
Unable to hear the other side of the conversation, Leigh Ann held her breath and watched Jo.
“Yes, I understand. Do you have any idea when we’ll know?” Jo asked, her voice shaky. “All right, then.”
Jo listened for a while longer, looked up and saw Leigh Ann, then with tears in her eyes managed a shrug. “No, no thanks. I’m staying right here where I can keep busy. You can reach me at the trading post, or on my cell. Call when you get news. “Yes … Bye.”
As Jo hung up, her shoulders sagged.
“Here, darling, let me hang on to you for a while,” Leigh Ann said, giving Jo a hug. She heard footsteps and turned to see Esther, Melvin, and Ambrose crowding into the doorway. Regina was right behind them.
Jo stood up straight and stepped back, wiping away her tears. “It’s not necessarily bad news. The downed helicopter has been located, and appears to have crash-landed safely despite being damaged. The crew apparently abandoned the aircraft and sought cover. A rescue unit is on the ground and an operation is underway to neutralize enemy snipers before they bring in any more choppers. There’s evidence from a surveillance drone that the crash survivors may have established a defensive perimeter around a cave, but other than that no more information is available.”
“Any idea when you’ll know?” Ambrose asked.
Jo shook her head. “Several hours, maybe longer. The lieutenant said I could come and wait in his office at the Federal Building in Farmington, but I told him I’d rather be here working with you guys.”
“With family,” Esther said with a nod, and reached out to squeeze her hand. “We’ve been praying for Ben, and for you, and we’re not going to stop now.”
“Thank you.” She looked from face to face, managed a smile, then looked out into the hall. “Who’s managing the store? Let’s get to work, people.”