by Lukens, Mark
Why were they risking everything to meet with Alice Newcastle just to find Joe Blackhorn? Begay wondered. They’d had plenty of chances to run. They could’ve went anywhere from Colorado. They could’ve even left the U.S. But instead of running, they were going to what they thought was a shaman’s property.
Begay didn’t feel good about this. After the bodies and mutilations he’d seen, and then Palmer’s description of what had happened up in Colorado, this didn’t feel right. He tried not to be a superstitious person, but this felt otherworldly to him, something that was too big for him and his men. Too big for the FBI.
He picked up the phone and dialed the FBI office in Farmington. Moments later he got Klein on the phone and told him what was going on.
“You wait for me!” Klein screamed into the phone. “I’m on my way! Don’t do anything until I get there. You understand me?”
Begay hung the phone up without responding to Klein’s orders, but he felt like throwing it across the room. He hated Klein giving him orders; he hated the fact that murders and other major crimes on the Rez fell under the jurisdiction of the FBI and the government. It was like the whites didn’t believe the Navajo were smart enough to take care of themselves, to solve their own problems.
It was an old argument, one that would never be solved; nothing was ever going to change, so there wasn’t any use in ruminating over it.
Begay grabbed his hat and plopped it down on his head, adjusting it. Then he walked towards the door to gather his men together.
He had no intention of waiting for Agent Klein.
CHAPTER 48
Navajo Reservation
Cole drove the pickup truck down Route 13 around the Lukachukai Mountains. He would connect with another small road and then another one after that. The farther they traveled, the more remote everything became.
The afternoon was giving way to evening, the shadows lengthening, the sun dipping down below the mountains, the air getting even colder.
But within a few hours they should be at this man’s property, this shaman.
Cole still didn’t feel right about this, but he didn’t want to pound the point home again to Stella. He’d made his case already and he wasn’t going to keep doing it. They had made their decision. Like Stella had said, what other choices did they have?
What if they ran? Would that thing just keep following them to the ends of the Earth? Was there a place they could hide from that thing? It was like David was a beacon to the thing, like that thing could always tell where David was going, and it wouldn’t stop until it had someone kill David for it, until the threat of David was gone.
They had eaten a little more from their stash of snacks, but none of them were very hungry.
It was a scary feeling driving to this shaman’s property, but there was also a feeling of hope. Maybe the shaman could finally help them; maybe this shaman could finally explain everything to them.
Cole wondered what he was going to do when all of this was over. But he didn’t like to plan too far ahead. Right now he just wanted to focus on what was in front of him right now, put all of his energy into surviving.
And he needed to stay alert. He still wasn’t sure if they could trust Stella’s friend, and if anything looked shady he wanted to be able to get out of there.
“Shit!” Cole yelled.
Cole slammed on the brakes as two pickup trucks pulled out onto the road from each side. Both vehicles had been hidden behind large rocks and brush, and now they were blocking the road, parked nose-to-nose.
“Hold on!” Cole yelled as the truck slid to a stop on the road, the tires screeching in the cold air.
The evening was approaching quickly, but there was still plenty of light to see the men in the pickup trucks. There were two men each in the cabs of the trucks and two men in the beds of each of the trucks. All of the men in the beds of the trucks were laying low with the barrels of their rifles pointing at them.
“What the hell is this?” Cole muttered. He slammed the pickup truck’s gearshift into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal as he turned around to look behind him.
Two more pickup trucks pulled out from the brush and rocks behind them, parking nose-to-nose in the middle of the road, like the trucks in front of them had done.
They were blocked in.
Cole stomped on the brakes and the truck came to a jarring halt.
Stella looked into the back seat at David. He was scared, holding on to the back of the seat, his fingers dug into the fabric.
“It’s okay,” Stella whispered.
It’s not okay, Cole thought as he sat there with the pickup truck rumbling, options running through his mind.
Could these men be flesh puppets controlled by the Ancient Enemy?
It was possible.
Or had they been double-crossed by Stella’s friend?
That seemed to be a more likely scenario to him.
Cole glanced back in front of them at the men hunkered down in the back of the two trucks aiming their rifles at them.
“You guys need to hold on,” Cole said. “Make sure David has his seatbelt on.”
“What are you going to do?” Stella asked him.
“I’m going to ram them,” he said and looked back at David. “You stay down low, you hear me?”
David nodded, staring at Cole with wide eyes.
“Wait a minute, Cole,” Stella said. “We don’t even know what they want.”
“I think it’s kind of obvious,” Cole said. “Your friend set this up somehow. They want to apprehend us for the cops. Or even worse, enact their own justice for David’s parents.”
Cole gripped the steering wheel. The truck was still in reverse; his foot was still on the brake pedal. He thought the best idea would be to reverse into the trucks behind them, perhaps saving any damage to the front of the truck so it could still run.
“Wait a minute,” Stella said and pointed at the windshield. “Someone’s getting out of the truck.”
Cole looked out the windshield at the tall, thin man walking towards them from his pickup truck. The Native American man showed no fear. Cole recognized the man now. He should’ve recognized the beat-up GMC pickup the man had gotten out of. It was the same man who had met with Stella and David at the gas station diner.
“It’s Billy,” Stella said.
Cole pulled his nine millimeter out of his coat pocket and held it down low in his lap, ready to use it.
“Don’t shoot,” Stella told Cole as she opened the passenger door.
CHAPTER 49
Navajo Reservation—Route 13
“What the hell are you doing?” Cole yelled at Stella as she got out of the truck and stood next to it.
“It’s Billy,” Stella said again. “It’s the guy who was with Alice at the diner. He wants to tell us something.”
Cole looked back out the windshield at the tall Navajo man who stood like a statue in the middle of the road. He had his hands raised slightly in the air in a half-hearted surrendering gesture, and there was something white clutched in one of his hands.
“He has the envelope I gave him,” Stella said, not even looking back inside the truck at Cole. “The one with the money in it.”
Stella started walking towards Billy.
Cole put the truck in park, but he left it running. He looked back at David, who peered out the windshield, his hands cupped over the back of the seats. “Wait here,” Cole told him.
Cole got out of the truck with his gun in his hand.
“You can put your gun away,” Billy said to Cole, his deep voice carrying easily down the road.
Stella, who was now halfway between the front of their pickup truck and Billy, looked back at Cole. “Please put it away,” she said.
Cole glanced back at the two pickup trucks parked nose to nose behind their truck. All of the men were armed, just like the men in the two pickup trucks in front of them. All of them had their rifles aimed at him and Stella. There was no way Cole could fight
all of them.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Billy told Cole as Stella walked a few steps closer towards him. He still had his hands raised in the air.
“What do you want?” Cole asked as he looked back at Billy.
“I want to show you the way to Joe Blackhorn’s property.”
“That’s where we’re going,” Cole yelled back.
Billy gave them a small smile and shook his head no. “I gave you a different set of directions than I gave to Alice.”
Stella stopped in the middle of the road.
“Alice called the police,” Billy said. “She had it planned that way all along. We set it up so you were going to a friend’s property.”
“But it’s not really Joe Blackhorn’s place,” Stella said.
“That’s correct,” Billy said. “The police, and I’m sure the feds, are on their way there right now.”
“Why are you helping us?” Stella asked.
“Before our meeting, I drew up two different maps and sets of directions. I took them both with me. I wanted to hear your story first. We’ve heard stories of what happened to those people at the dig site, including Jim Whitefeather. He was a friend of mine. And now we’ve all heard what happened to that boy’s parents. Some Navajo don’t believe in the legends anymore, and the whites don’t believe in them at all. But there is too much evidence to deny that something is going on right now. I wanted to hear your story first and then I would decide which directions I gave to you. I gave you the directions that led to this spot.”
“So you believe me?” Stella asked.
Cole now realized that the men in the back of the pickup trucks were pointing their weapons away from them and towards the rocks and brush, like they were afraid something might come out of the wilderness.
Like animals, Cole thought. Animals controlled by the Ancient Enemy.
And now Cole heard sounds way out there in the growing darkness; there were animals moving around out there.
“We don’t have much time,” Billy said and lowered his hands. He held out the white envelope to Stella.
“You can have that for helping us,” Stella told him.
“I don’t want this money,” he told her. “It’s blood money, isn’t it?”
Stella couldn’t deny it.
“Take your money back. Inside the envelope is another set of directions. When you get to the end of this road, head north instead of south. Then follow the directions I’ve written down from there. Joe Blackhorn lives very far out in the desert, past Kayenta. But I was not lying when I said that I sent someone to contact him. He knows you are coming. I was also not lying when I said that I cannot be sure if he will agree to help you.”
“I understand,” Stella said as she stood right in front of Billy. She accepted the crumpled up envelope from him. “Thank you for helping us.”
“I’m helping David Bear,” Billy practically spat out. “I’m helping our people.”
Stella nodded like she understood.
Without another word Billy turned around and headed back to his pickup truck.
Stella hurried back to the truck and got in. Cole got in the driver’s side and they slammed the doors shut at the same time. Cole pushed the button down to lock the doors.
They watched out the windows as the trucks all turned around in the road and drove away in two different directions, their taillights growing smaller out the windshield and in the rearview mirror.
Stella opened up the envelope. All the money was still there, but another folded piece of paper was right on top of the hundred dollar bills. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. It was a lot like the other paper: handwritten directions in neat handwriting and a hand drawn map.
She looked at Cole and then gave him the paper so he could look at it. She opened the glove box and pulled out a map of the Navajo Reservation they had bought at the gas station earlier. She selected a black pen from the center console and marked the route to Joe Blackhorn’s property.
Cole watched Stella trace the route as he put the truck in drive, his foot still on the brake pedal. He glanced out the driver’s side window at the rocks and brush all around them. The land was getting very dark behind them, and the sun was dying behind the jagged mountains in front of them in purple and deep blue hues.
A howl from a coyote sounded from somewhere to their left, somewhere deep in the brush. Then another howl answered. And another one answered that one. It was like they were talking to each other.
“Let’s get going,” Cole said, and he stomped down on the gas pedal.
CHAPTER 50
Navajo Reservation
Special Agent Palmer raced down the road in the night.
He was angry. He had talked to Agent Klein, who was also angry that Captain Begay and his men hadn’t waited for them. And now Begay and his men were at the property that was supposed to be a ruse.
Palmer called Begay’s cell phone again. The last five phone calls had all gone to voicemail and Palmer hadn’t bothered leaving a message. But this time Begay picked up.
“Captain Begay speaking.” He answered the phone officially even though Palmer was sure the captain knew who was calling him.
“Captain Begay,” Palmer snapped. “You were supposed to wait for us.”
“They’re not here,” Begay said, ignoring Palmer’s words and harsh tone.
Palmer sped down the road, the headlights from his black rental car piercing the darkness. According to his GPS he was almost there. He was driving along a road that wound through canyons and led down into a valley below. “What do you mean, they’re not there?”
“They’re not here,” Begay said a little slower like he was talking to someone who couldn’t understand him. “I don’t think they were ever here.”
Palmer wound around a bend in the twisting road and saw the police lights flashing below in the valley. Outside lights illuminated a scattering of structures that looked like trailers and maybe some kind of large barn.
Klein was already there, but Palmer hadn’t called him yet, wanting to talk to Begay first.
“I think either they smelled something rotten here,” Begay said, “or they were tipped off somehow.”
“Tipped off?”
“Maybe by the man who Alice met them with.”
“And who was that?”
“She won’t say,” Begay answered.
“Hold on. I’m here now.”
Palmer parked his car, a cloud of dust rising up all around it. The property was situated in a dale with jagged hills all around it, the largest hill of rock rising up only a few hundred yards behind the three mobile homes grouped together on the property.
Agent Klein marched right up to Palmer as soon as he got out of the car. “I’m reporting Captain Begay,” he said through clenched teeth. “I gave that sonofabitch explicit orders to wait for me.”
Palmer ignored Klein as they walked towards Begay, who stood with two other officers. Other Tribal Police officers were milling around the scene, some of them standing next to their police vehicles.
“So what happened?” Palmer asked Begay, trying to keep his tone professional this time.
“Like I told you, I think they were tipped off.”
“And you can’t get to this guy?” Klein said with a sneer. “You can’t make this Alice person tell you?”
“I can question her,” Begay said.
“Maybe you should tell her that she’s going to be charged with obstruction of justice,” Klein said.
Palmer pulled Begay away from Klein. “Can we talk a minute?”
Klein looked like he’d been slapped in the face and Palmer held up a finger to him, gesturing at him to wait behind.
“Sorry about that,” Palmer muttered as they walked away. “Is Klein always like this?”
Begay just stared at him, offering no information, but his eyes answered the question for Palmer.
“Yeah,” Palmer breathed out. That’s why Klein was stationed out here, and that
’s why he’d been here for so long now. “I know you don’t want to lean on this woman …”
“Her name is Alice Newcastle. She’s an archaeologist. She’s been working here for almost thirty years. Very respected in our community by many Navajo.”
Palmer nodded.
“And she’s very wealthy. Her family can afford the best lawyers in the country. And she’s very stubborn and principled.”
“Well, maybe if she realizes that her friend tricked her and Stella and the man she’s with are still on the loose …”
Begay nodded like he’d already thought of that. “I tried that line with her. She is concerned, but it’s still not a good enough reason for her to break her word. I don’t even know where they met Stella at; she won’t say anything. I’ll get my officers to start questioning people, but that could take days, maybe weeks.”
Palmer nodded and sighed heavily again. He had rushed down here and they were back to square one. “What about this guy they’re trying to find … Joe Blackhorn? Where does he live?”
“Not many know.”
Palmer winced. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“The few people who know where Joe Blackhorn lives keep it a secret. Joe Blackhorn doesn’t like to be bothered.”
“But there’s got to be some kind of property records or something.”
“He lives off the grid. People help him. He used to be a professor at Arizona State University years ago. He was kind of famous in those circles, I gather. And then he just stopped his research about fifteen years ago and came back here. No one knows why he changed so suddenly. I heard he cashed in all of the money he made and searched the Rez until he found a place to squat.”
“So he’s just living in a travel trailer or something out in the middle of the desert?”
Begay shook his head no. “More likely he’s living on someone else’s property, someone who’s helping to hide him from everyone else. Probably has his vehicles registered in someone else’s name.”