It was noon on Sunday and although the trading post was closed for business, Jo and Samantha Allison, Sam for short, were there, configuring and tweaking the computer software.
“Are you sure working on Sundays isn’t going to create a big problem between you and Esther?” Jo asked, finishing the sandwich she’d taken from the deli bar.
“Grandmother hates it when I work on what she calls the Lord’s day,” the half-Navajo girl answered, sipping an oversized cola, “but I’m not a practicing Christian. I’m more into math, science, and technology,” she said, focusing on the monitor for Jo’s desktop computer. The blue upload progress bar was moving, but slowly.
At twenty-one, Samantha was the quintessential computer geek, hoping to gain real-world business experience by working at The Outpost. Jo had hired her to adapt and configure some new software. The Outpost had unique, individualized contracts with local artists—sculptors, potters, jewelry makers, and more. Sam’s tweaks had made it possible for Jo to keep a continual tally on all merchandise under consignment as well as the specifics of each agreement. A database stored all the information Jo needed to reorder or commission new stock. What made it almost perfect was that Sam had set things up so that the pertinent data was automatically transferred to the store’s tax accounting software.
“Your car’s not outside,” Jo said, casually glancing out. “Is it still at the shop?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it back tomorrow. It needed transmission work. Jack Colburn dropped me off earlier. Which reminds me, Jack wanted me to ask you if he could deliver the bales of bedding straw later this afternoon instead of on Monday. If you’re okay with that, he said he would stack it himself. I should be through by then though, so I can help him.”
“That’s fine,” Jo said. She wasn’t planning to stay long at The Outpost; in fact if she hadn’t felt it necessary to get this computer work finished, she wouldn’t have come in at all. As soon as she could get away, she wanted to check on Rudy. He’d spent the night at the hospital, and if the doctor released him today as planned she wanted to be on hand to offer him and Victoria a ride home.
“Oh—and can he put up a notice on our bulletin board?”
Jo glanced back at Sam, realizing that she had tuned out the young woman’s last few sentences. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“The bulletin board. Jack wants to expand the number of free riding and grooming classes he offers to children of military veterans. His Saturday classes are jammed, so he’s going to start teaching Sunday afternoons, too. He wanted to place a notice on our bulletin board to help get the word out.”
“No problem at all. He’s really doing a great job. I’ve heard some of the moms and dads bragging about how much their kids have learned from Jack.”
“Jack’s a natural, being the son of a big rodeo cowboy. Since he’s also half Navajo and remembers all the traditional stories his mom taught him, the kids think he’s really cool. Of course they’re a little surprised at first by his prosthetic arm, but after a while, they don’t even notice it.”
Hearing the way Sam’s tone of voice changed when she spoke of Jack, Jo smiled. “You got a thing for him?”
Sam smiled. “Yeah. Not that he’d ever notice.”
“So you two aren’t dating?”
“Nah, I help him with the horses and the kids when I can, but that’s about it.” She shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t plan to stick around the Rez much longer. There’s really not that much work available around here for a computer tech—at least right now.”
“That’ll change—sooner rather than later.”
“Maybe, but I have to be ready to go wherever the work is, and although it’ll be hard to leave, it’ll be exciting, too. A new adventure might be out there waiting for me.”
“You sound just like Ben did when he graduated high school,” Jo said, remembering.
“He joined the army and has seen the world. Europe, the Persian Gulf, the Middle East. Afghanistan … Now there’s an adventure,” Sam said wistfully. “Testing your limits … finding out about yourself…”
“More than you want, sometimes,” Jo said quietly.
“Yeah, it can be like that, too. When you test yourself, you don’t always get the answers you want, but look at Jack. He served in the army, fought the enemy, and like Ben, became stronger for it.”
“Is that what you want—to join the military?”
“No, I’m not a fighter—not the gun-carrying kind anyway. Jack needed the structure and discipline of the military to find himself, but I’m after something different. I don’t have a big college degree, just a lot of good course work. I’m good with computers, though, and I love math. What I need now is some experience and the contacts to eventually build a business of my own. I want to be the go-to IT source in the Four Corners.”
Jo smiled. Although they were only seven years apart, Samantha seemed more like a teenager than a woman to her. Sam had been sheltered and protected all her life. Jo, on the other hand, had cared for herself and her shattered family for as far back as she could remember.
“Have you heard from Ben lately?” Sam asked. “Grandma says he usually calls via Skype on Thursdays and that you were disappointed last week when you didn’t hear from him.”
That was one of the reasons she’d come in early today. Sometimes when Ben couldn’t contact her during the week, he would call on Sundays instead, but so far she hadn’t heard from him. No email, no call.
As Sam’s focus shifted back to the computer, they suddenly heard a loud thump, followed by breaking glass, coming from the back.
Sam jumped up and ran to the rear window. “Nobody’s out there. I thought maybe Jack had come back early and run into something.”
Jo stepped into the hall and looked across the interior of the store toward the front parking lot. A dark-colored truck was speeding up the drive in a cloud of dust. “The driver must have circled the building. I wonder what he did? It’s easy to see that we aren’t open for business today…”
“Let me grab the baseball bat and go out with you,” Sam said.
Jo continued to look outside, but didn’t see anyone. “No, Sam, stay put. I’ll step out onto the loading dock and check my truck and the trading post’s vehicles. If you hear me yell, call 911.”
“Don’t go out there alone, Jo. Let me go with you. I can fight. I grew up with three brothers.”
Jo chuckled. “Okay, but bring your cell phone.”
Once they stepped onto the loading dock, it was easy to see what had happened. A glass jar filled with blood red paint had been thrown against the overhead door. The jar had shattered, creating a big splatter that was tricking down in rivulets and scattering shards and chunks of glass everywhere.
Jo glanced around and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that her car and the store’s van were untouched.
“Petty vandalism,” Sam said and smirked. “With graduation coming up, the high school seniors are just itching for some action. Things can get awfully dull around here.”
Jo sighed. Dull. She’d welcome that. Some days she was so busy she barely had time for meals.
Sam looked over. “Should I call it in?”
Jo shook her head. “No, don’t bother. The sheriff won’t be able to do much. We didn’t get a license number or see a face.”
She stepped closer to the paint, making sure not to step on the splatter, and sniffed the air. “It’s water-based, which means I should be able to wash it off before it dries if I move quickly enough. I’ll bring the pressure washer we normally use for cleaning the dock and add a little detergent to the spray.”
“I’ll hook up the hose,” Sam said, running off.
Jo stared at the paint. The color … the timing … After what happened to Rudy, she couldn’t know for sure, but it was possible that this was more than just petty vandalism. Someone might be sending her a message.
Sam brought the hose out of the storeroom. “Do you need my help here, or should I go back to setting up the software?”
“Hook up the hose, then focus on the computer. That’s your skill set. I can take care of this.”
Jo put on a pair of rubber gloves, then collected all the pieces of glass she could find and put them in a bucket out of the way. Using the pressure washer’s high-impact spray, she rinsed the paint from the loading dock’s door. It didn’t take long. She was just cleaning off the washer with some paper towels when Sam beckoned to her from the employee door.
Hoping it was a call from Ben, Jo ran inside. “It’s Victoria Brownhat,” Sam said softly, gesturing to the phone.
Jo answered quickly. “I’m here. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I’m calling because I need to talk to you. Can you come by the house today?”
“You’re already home?”
“Yes, my cousin came by the hospital to visit and offered us a ride.”
Jo glanced up at the clock. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” As she hung up, she glanced over at Sam. “Can you lock up without me when you finish? I have to go.”
“Of course,” Sam said, “and before I leave I’ll also make sure the bedding Jack’s delivering today is properly stored. Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.” Thinking of the vandalism and suddenly worried about Sam, too, she added, “When’s Jack supposed to be here?”
“He said around four, but no prob. I’ll be fine,” she said, as if reading Jo’s mind.
Jo shook her head as she checked the time. It was two thirty. “No. I’ll wait.”
“You want me to call Jack and ask him how his schedule is running? He’s usually early.”
Jo nodded. “Normally I wouldn’t ask but … these are special circumstances.”
Sam nodded and had just picked up her phone when they both heard the roar of a powerful truck engine. She went to the window and smiled. “Jack’s here. As I said, he’s always early.”
“Good. Grab dinner before you leave, on the house, but don’t forget to lock up everything and set the alarm.”
“I’ll ask Jack to take one last look around, too, just to be on the safe side.”
Jo smiled. “Thanks, Sam.”
“No problem,” she said, sipping from a jumbo cup of highly caffeinated soda.
No wonder Sam stayed so skinny, Jo thought. The girl loved those fast-food energy drinks and was always on hyperdrive.
Jo grabbed her purse. The bright silver tote sparkled in the sunlight and she just loved it. She’d always had a thing for purses, the wilder the better. They cheered her up, and at the moment, she needed all the boost she could get.
* * *
Leigh Ann was dressed casually today, wearing jeans, a sleeveless blouse, and comfortable sneakers, appropriate attire for the Sunrise Café, a popular roadside diner in the community of Kirtland. She was waiting for her cousin, Dale Carson. He’d served with the state police for a decade before transferring to the county sheriff’s department, wanting a smaller area to patrol. Although he hadn’t been involved in the investigation surrounding Kurt’s death, she knew he was familiar with everything that had happened.
The tall, blond sergeant, out of uniform and wearing a dark blue polo shirt and jeans, stepped into the diner and Leigh Ann waved. In a moment he’d joined her at her table.
“Day off?” Leigh Ann asked.
“Yeah and not just because it’s Sunday. I’ve been working the graveyard shift. Next week I go back to days again.” He ordered coffee, leaned back, then placed his arm across the booth’s low back. “What’s up, cuz?”
“I’ve got a mess on my hands, Dale.” She told him what she’d found in her attic.
“You turned that stuff in, right?” Seeing her shake her head, he added, “You’ve got to do that, Leigh Ann, and be aware that once you do, things are going to get a lot tougher for you. You were Kurt’s wife, which means you’ll become an instant suspect in his embezzlement scheme. Did anyone ever ask you about Kurt and that missing money, or about the fake vendor, Frank Jones?”
“Wayne and Pierre have both asked me about business files pertaining to Frank Jones. They thought Kurt might have brought them home or transferred them to his home computer. I looked around, but I didn’t find anything at the time.”
“It sounds like they did suspect Kurt. Once officers go talk to both men, the partners may claim that you’ve been holding out on them.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t know anything about all this until I found that box.”
“Maybe so, but look at it from a different perspective. It could be argued that you knew Kurt had been cheating on you. When you found out about the money, you decided to kill him, make it look like a hunting accident, and take the cash.”
“Oh, crap. I’m a pretty good shot, too,” she admitted in a muted voice, fear winding through her. “I used to go with him to the gun club and shoot the rifle he bought me for our anniversary. What a gift, right? Conveniently, it was the same rifle he’d wanted for himself for years.”
“Consider getting a lawyer,” Dale said, looking serious.
“Are you kidding me? I barely have enough to cover my bills.” She stared at her hands, lost in thought, trying to come up with a plan. After a moment, she looked up at him. “I realize that at first glance it may look bad for me, but if people stop to think it through they’ll see I’m not guilty. If I were, I wouldn’t have turned the box over to them.”
“It’s not that simple. You could have decided to shift the focus back to Kurt’s illegal activities, hoping that would protect you from his partners. Since they knew about Frank Jones and the embezzled money, it was only a matter of time before they came after you. At the very least, they might have sued Kurt’s estate for restitution.”
“But I almost got shot getting that box,” Leigh Ann said, trying not to lose it now.
“That shotgun booby trap could also work against you. Even if it could be proven that you didn’t fake it, it suggests Kurt was keeping the theft from you and was willing to risk you getting killed. That begs the question, why didn’t he trust you? Couple that with the fact that you didn’t have an alibi for the day he was killed and it doesn’t look good.”
“I was at home that entire weekend,” she said, swallowing hard, her voice whisper thin, “but I shouldn’t have to prove my innocence. They have to prove my guilt.”
“That’s true, but while they look into things your life is going to get mighty complicated,” he said. “Here’s another question. When did you first learn that Kurt was cheating on you?”
“Not until after he died.”
“Can you prove that?” Seeing her shake her head, he continued. “Infidelity is a common motive for killing a spouse. Add to that the money Kurt stole, and you’ve got the makings of a pretty good circumstantial case. The detective in charge of the investigation will undoubtedly consider the possibility that you’ve got the money hidden somewhere right now, or have been spending it a little at a time.”
“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have called you,” she said, almost in tears.
“Leigh Ann, we’re family,” he said, patting her hand. “I had to let you know what you’re facing. I’ll do my best to protect you. In the meantime, you need to watch your back. Give straight answers, but don’t volunteer any information.”
She felt sick but managed to nod. “Okay, let’s go to my place. All things considered, I’d rather hand the box over to you.” Everything except for the .38. It was loaded with six rounds, and she’d already put that somewhere safe. She had a feeling she might need it.
* * *
Leigh Ann sat just outside the French doors on the patio, looking into the garden. Dale had told her he’d pass the box along to the detective who’d investigated Kurt’s death. The white collar crimes division would also be informed. Someone in one or both of those divisions would call on her soon.
On edge, she stood and paced, praying that Dale’s worst-case scenario would end up being nothing more than a scary story. She’d assumed the police would be on her side, but it seemed she might be in more danger than ever. If Kurt had been murdered, she’d just awakened a sleeping tiger, a dangerous adversary who, up ’til now, had gotten away with his crime.
Last night, after dropping Melvin off, she could have sworn she’d seen a dark-colored sedan following her and had briefly wondered if it was the same one she’d seen when they’d left the storage facility. The car had veered off before she’d reached the turnoff to her home, so she’d stopped worrying about it. Now she wondered if she should have paid closer attention and tried to make note of its license plate.
Rachel came out the French doors with two mugs of tea, handed one to Leigh Ann, then sat down in the other patio chair.
Leigh Ann looked at her across the small bistro table in surprise. “What’s all this?”
“I have something to tell you and I wanted you to have some of your favorite vanilla caramel tea while we talked.”
“What’s up?”
“Since you’re so intent on finding out what Kurt was up to, I decided to give you a hand. I made copies of everything that was in that box. I figured you might need to check that information and duplicates might come in handy somewhere along the way.”
“That wasn’t a bad idea at all,” she said, considering the circumstances. “Thanks.”
“I also ran into Pierre Boone last night at the Bullfrog. I told you he hangs out there, remember?” At Leigh Ann’s nod, she continued. “He and Wayne were having a drink, and while the band was taking a break, I went over to talk to them.”
“You did what?” Leigh Ann sat up. “Rachel, what exactly did you say to them?”
“I was casual about it, but I told them that some of Kurt’s personal papers had raised some questions for you and that you’d probably be calling them to see if they could help you find answers.”
“Rachel, I really wish you hadn’t done that,” Leigh Ann said.
“Those two have always liked me, so I wanted to open the door for you.”
Leigh Ann thought back again to the sedan she’d seen last night. Didn’t Wayne drive a similar make and model? Then again, so did half the county. She took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t get involved in this, Rache.”
“Once they find out you’ve turned everything over to the cops, they’re not going to hold you responsible for anything Kurt did. They’ll leave you alone.”
“It’s not that simple.” Leigh Ann gave her a short version of what Dale had told her.
“Damn,” Rachel said softly. “I didn’t think of that. There’s only one thing you can do then. Stop looking into this right now, Leigh Ann. Maybe the whole thing will blow over if you just let it be.”
Leigh Ann shook her head. “It’s too late for me to back off, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I spent a lot of years closing my eyes to whatever I didn’t want to see. I can’t be that person anymore, no matter what the risk.”
“You’ve changed a lot this past year, Leigh Ann. You’re harder … tougher, you know? You don’t back away anymore, but that can get you into a lot of trouble.”
“Maybe, but I’m through hiding my head in the sand.” Leigh Ann stood, grabbed her cup, and went inside.
There was one important thing she’d have to do as soon as possible. She needed to let Jo know what was going on. She didn’t think that whatever she’d stirred up could affect the trading post, but Jo deserved a heads-up.
The trading post people had become like a second family to her. They’d all faced danger together before, after Tom Stuart was murdered, and she knew they’d have her back.
She picked up the phone next to the kitchen cabinet and called Jo. Maybe they’d be able to talk tonight. If not, it would have to be tomorrow at work—hopefully, before a detective showed up to question her.
* * *
Jo sat across from Victoria in the Brownhats’ small living room. Property belonged to the women, according to tribal customs, and that was evident inside the house. Just as the hogan was Rudy’s domain, everything here held a feminine touch. The walls were adorned with beautifully crafted Navajo rugs of various styles. Victoria’s mother and Victoria herself were skilled weavers. There were wildflowers in pots all around the room, too. Some Jo recognized, having become familiar with the Plant People, as Rez plants were called by Traditionalists.
Victoria sat in her favorite chair next to a small end table. At her feet were the beginnings of a woven basket. “My husband’s resting now, but he asked me to give you a message.”
Jo waited. Long pauses were common, and interrupting them was considered extremely rude.
“The fiancé of the woman who passed away days after her pollen blessing is a very angry young man,” Victoria said. “The first time he came by, my husband was making tea from the herbs he keeps in the hogan. The man may have come back later during the night and added the poison to the container. The hogan is always open.”
She handed Jo a piece of paper with the name Edmund Garnenez. “That’s his name. I’ve been told by several people that he claims you and my husband witched her.”
“That’s a very serious accusation and a complete lie,” Jo said, fighting to control her temper.
“Yes, but stories like those can take on a life of their own,” Victoria warned. “They grow from the telling.”
“People will see that it’s his grief talking.” Knowing that Victoria had enough to handle, Jo added, “I’ll try to track the man down and talk to him.”
Victoria shook her head quickly. “No, that’s precisely what you shouldn’t do. He’s not thinking straight right now. I ran into him at the pharmacy and he said some bad things right to my face.”
Although Jo knew that an apprentice hataalii couldn’t afford to succumb to anger, she felt a slow rage building inside her. There was no way she’d allow anyone to try to intimidate her teacher’s family.
“Your first instinct may be to confront him, but remember that a hataalii, even an apprentice one, has to remain above things like this,” Victoria said.
Jo swallowed hard and nodded. Her teacher’s wife was right.
“My husband said to warn you that the young man may try to poison you next. You need to be careful what you eat and drink.”
“I’ll stay on my guard. Don’t worry,” Jo said, and stood. “If you need me, day or night, just call.”
“Walk in beauty,” Victoria said, accompanying her to the door.
As she headed for the trading post, Jo’s thoughts shifted back to Ben. He was never far from her mind, but he’d been out of contact for several days, and she was worried about him. Since she didn’t have access to Skype at home, she intended to hang around the office today as long as possible.
Hope … It was often a cheat, but sometimes it was all a person had.