Death Etched in Stone

by C. M. Wendelboe

  “But not too busy to visit a strip club.”

  “I was there on official business.”

  Clara laughed. “Right. And next you’re going to tell me you met someone who buys porn just for the articles?”

  Manny rubbed the back of his head and started to tell her about the old barber before he thought better. One stretch of the imagination was enough for one day.

  Chapter 17

  Willie stood eyeing the sandwiches before pocketing his money and returning to the conference table.

  Pee Pee Pourier turned his dentures over in his hand. He held them to the light and picked at them with a paper clip. “You’re not hungry?”

  “I haven’t eaten in two days.”

  Lumpy patted his stomach and reached for a donut. “I wish I had that will power.”

  “It’s not that I’m not hungry,” said Willie, looking longingly at the vending machine. “It’s just I remember the last time I stuck money in a Wheel of Death.”

  Manny leaned across the table. “On our little field trip to Wind River, Willie got a mild case of Washakie’s Revenge, because the sandwich he ate had sat in their machine for a week. Or two.”

  “Just waiting for some schmuck like me to come liberate it,” Willie sat beside Pee Pee. “And the bread was so hard it chipped my tooth.”

  Pee Pee held his dentures up. “Like these?”

  Willie shook his head. “Of course not. You’re as gullible as the lieutenant with his Elvis stuff.”

  “What Elvis stuff?” Lumpy dropped folders on the table. He smoothed his starched uniform carefully before sitting.

  “Before you came in we were discussing the special online Elvis auction scheduled to open tomorrow.”

  Lumpy leaned over the table and glared at Pee Pee. “You gonna bid?”

  Pee Pee shrugged and fingered a handkerchief in his shirt pocket. “If I see something that tickles my fancy, I might. Like this silk hankie.”

  “So you claimed yesterday,” Lumpy said. “And the day before. And the day before that. It still doesn’t mean it actually soaked up Elvis’s sweat at that Las Vegas concert.”

  “If we could get it tested for DNA, I’d prove you wrong.”

  Lumpy jabbed Manny. “Now, maybe the FBI—”

  Manny smiled. “Even the Bureau would frown on testing Elvis’s hankie.”

  Lumpy got red-faced, and Manny let him off the hook. “How are your assault victims doing?”

  “I sent Robert Hollow Thunder to Hot Springs hospital to interview Joey One Feather,” Lumpy answered, “but he skipped in the middle of the night. Joey must have recovered from that beating if he could do that.”

  “Or he’s just scared to death.” Manny chanced a cup of lukewarm coffee before sitting back down. “I believe I’ve identified your suspect: Bobo Groves. Joey and Kyle’s description matches perfectly. And he’s got the history of violence.”

  “Why the hell would he come to the rez and beat up a couple of our model citizens?” Willie asked.

  Manny picked a hair floating in his coffee. “He wants to find out who stole his car. Real bad. He’s taking it personally that someone stole it. He must have talked with someone who put him on to Joey and Kyle.”

  “Well, until we find either Joey One Feather or Kyle Wells to ID Bobo’s photo,” Willie said, glancing again at the Wheel of Death, “we can’t even bring him in for interrogation.”

  Lumpy rolled his velvet Elvis chair closer to the table. “But we can do something about this other mess we got.” He leaned his pudgy arms on the table as he flipped through pages in the file folder. “The state lab came back with a match on the prints in Bobo’s car. They belong to Nate Yellow Bull from Rosebud.”

  “I’ll call Lieutenant Jumps—”

  “I already called.” Lumpy leaned back against Elvis and sneered. “We do have some law enforcement experience here. It’s not just the FBI that can use the phone.”

  “I got your point,” Manny said. “What did Rosebud PD say?”

  “They’ve had a bunch of contacts on Nate, all juvie shit: possession of weed, pilfering from St Francis’s offering plate. He stole a car last year.”

  “Two cars,” Pee Pee corrected. He put his teeth back in his mouth and walked to the coffee cart and eyed the donuts. “I went over there last year to help them process a break-in at a ranch west of Martin. Nate took the farmer’s Mercury joy riding.”

  “That’s right. It was on the line between Pine Ridge and Rosebud,” Lumpy said. “A dozen yards into their jurisdiction,” he chuckled. “One less case we had to fart with.”

  Pee Pee turned back to the table. He had eaten half a filled long john before he sat back down. He laid his pastry on a napkin while he grabbed his coffee cup. “Did you bring these?”

  Manny nodded. “Fresh today.”

  “You don’t want any?”

  “I can’t,” Manny answered.

  Lumpy reached over and grabbed the rest of Pee Pee’s long john. “You’re such a generous soul.”

  “Let’s just say I can eat the pastries vicariously through you and Pee Pee.” Manny nodded to the box. “There’s some left. Acting Chief. Even those cream puffs you like so much.”

  Lumpy eyed the box and started scooting his chair back when he stopped and patted his stomach. “I’ve got to cut this down before I get diabetes like you, Hot Shot. Besides, the tribal council is due to make a decision on the permanent Chief of Police position next week and I want to look sharp.”

  Manny exaggerated a once-over. “It’s going to take more than a few pounds down to make you look sharp.”

  Before Lumpy could respond, Manny picked up the folder and scanned Nate Yellow Bull’s rap sheet. All juvenile. But he turned eighteen two months ago. “He’s eligible for some serious time for jacking Bobo’s car.”

  “If he’s the one who took it,” Willie said.

  “Unless he’s tied in with Johnny Apple’s murder,” Lumpy added. “Then he’s gonna be someone’s girlfriend in prison.”

  Manny agreed. “Let’s put out a BOLO for Nate.”

  “We already have,” Willie said. “Rosebud PD hasn’t seen him for months. Lieutenant Jumps says he hangs out here on Pine Ridge with his girlfriend, Shawna Moon.”

  “Then let’s hunt her up and see what she knows,” Manny said.

  Willie stood as if to head out.

  “You’ve got other chores,” Lumpy said. “Or did you forget you have to interview Pookie Martinez this morning? She bought dope two days ago, and the least you can do is find out who sold it.”

  Willie dropped his head.

  “Bet you thought I’d forgotten about that, Mister Tribal Investigator.” Lumpy’s tone became serious, and he leaned across the table. “You have important work here. Bobo’s car is still an auto theft out of Rapid City. And it’s not even been tied in with Johnny Apple’s death, which may or may not be a murder.” He smiled at Manny. “Besides, I found a new partner for you. Just to help you out.”

  “What new partner?”

  Lumpy picked up the phone. “Send in Chief Horn.”

  “Chief Horn? What the hell?”

  “I found out Shawna Moon lives with her grandma, Sadie Moon,” Lumpy said.

  “What’s that got to do with Chief Horn?” Manny asked.

  “Sadie Moon talks with no one she doesn’t trust. And she doesn’t trust the FBI any more than the rest of us here on the rez.”

  “Which doesn’t explain—”

  “Chief Horn and Sadie Moon sparked about a century ago,” Lumpy said. “She still visits him in the Cohen Home once a week, though I don’t even want to know what they manage to do behind closed doors. If anyone can get Sadie to talk about her granddaughter, the chief can.”

  Chief Horn burst through the door, a wide smile replacing his usually gruff
frown. Manny elbowed Lumpy. “You know the Bureau won’t allow anyone in the car that’s not law enforcement.”

  Lumpy grinned wide and turned to Chief Horn. “Show him, Chief.”

  Chief Horn dug in his pocket and came away with an Oglala Sioux Tribe Department of Public Safety Police badge.

  Lumpy patted Manny on the shoulder. “See, now it’s official. You and the chief can investigate all you want.”

  “You want these?” Pee Pee said as he took out his teeth and plopped them on the table in front of Manny. “As toothless as Grandma Moon is, you might have immediate solidarity with her.”

  Chapter 18

  “We are not a team,” Manny insisted as he pulled onto the highway leading to Sadie Moon’s house. “And put your seat belt on.”

  “It will not fit over this,” Chief Horn patted his stomach.

  “You just don’t want to. It’ll make you safe.”

  Manny saw Chief Horn look down at the medicine bundle dangling from his neck “With your driving,” Chief Horn said, fingering his turtle wopiye, “this is all I need to be safe.”

  “Suit yourself. But all you’re going to do is give me an intro to Sadie. I’ll do the asking.”

  Chief Horn put his hand over his heart. “I am hurt. You told me the plan twice already. Do you think I am senile or something?”

  “I just remember how you’d take over when I was on the force.”

  Horn dropped his eyes. “Was I really that obnoxious?”

  Manny patted the chief’s hand. And lied. “You weren’t. Usually you jumped in when we started screwing things up. You salvaged many an interview I bumbled.”

  “I did?” Chief Horn’s face lit up. “But I will keep quiet this time. I do not want to be a burden. This is a whole lot better than writing tickets for messy rooms.”

  They turned at Sadie Moon’s mailbox and started down the winding gravel road.

  “You know what you need,” Manny blurted out, “A puppy.”

  Chief Horn turned in the seat. “Not that again.”

  “I know it gets a little boring in that home . . . ”

  “Boring is not the word.” Chief Horn took out his hearing aid and began swapping batteries. “It is depressing with all the old farts there. All they want to do is sit around and wait for the end.”

  “Then another dog would perk you up.”

  “I do not want another.”

  “But you’ve always had a dog,” Manny argued. “I’m sure Mable would have wanted you to have another.”

  “I do not have time for another dog.”

  “What else are you doing all day?”

  “Do not remind me how they love me calling their danged Bingo.”

  Manny turned onto Sadie Moon’s drive, past flower boxes full of bulbs hibernating for the winter, past an apple tree on the left with crab apples still hanging by a cold thread, past juniper bushes with their branches drooping under the weight of ice that clung to the tips. They parked in front of a picket fence painted yellow and red and black, sacred colors all. “Nice place for a nice lady.”

  “She is.” Chief Horn looked sideways at Manny. “But she does not trust the FBI.”

  “That’s why I got you.”

  Snow had drifted across the steps, all but obliterating the Welcome mat. Manny raised his hand to knock when the storm door opened, and a shriveled face pressed itself against the screen. “What you want . . . ” A smile crossed her face and she opened the door.

  “Hau, Hankasi,” Chief Horn said.

  Sadie stepped close and looked up at him, cupping his face in her gnarled hands. “Verlyn. You have not been at my place since the night—”

  Horn coughed and stepped aside. Sadie Moon stopped mid-sentence. “Sadie, this is Senior Special Agent—”

  “I know who he is. Is there a reason to bring him here?”

  Horn nodded. “There is. But I am about to knock icicles off my butt waiting for you to invite us in.”

  Her smile faded. She scowled at Manny and motioned for them to come inside. He squeezed past her and stepped by a new litter of pups feeding on their mother’s milk in Sadie’s entryway. He followed Chief Horn as he walked into the living room, as if he’d been here a time or two. Sadie shut the door and followed them inside. “Sit. I will bring coffee.”

  They sat in a tiny living room that reminded Manny of Della Charging Bear’s place—small, but neat and tidy. In minutes Sadie brought coffee in mugs and sat them on the low table in front of them. “Now, why him?” she asked Chief Horn as if Manny wasn’t in the room.

  “He has questions, Sadie. Please answer them.”

  She nodded reluctantly, and sat across from Manny, waiting.

  “I need to find your granddaughter,” Manny began, picking his words carefully. “I understand Shawna lives with you.”

  “She has. Ever since her mom decided it was easier to take some pills with a double dose of whiskey. Hastened her departure along the Wanagi Tacanku. What do you want with Shawna?”

  Manny started to answer when Chief Horn interrupted. “We need to find her. We think she and her boyfriend stole a car in Rapid City couple nights ago.”

  “I told her that Nathan Yellow Bull was no good.”

  “Well, she might be in trouble.”

  Sadie leaned closer to Chief Horn. “That girl has been wild since that Nathan come around. She quit school. Quit beading.” She nodded to a cradle board displayed on the wall. “It took her two years to bead that. We would sit around the fire at night, and bead and talk. Just like in the Old Time. She was planning on using that for her first baby, once she finished college. Now she is gone—and stole a car.”

  Sadie stood and grabbed a picture from the wall. “That is her junior picture, taken last year.”

  Shawna’s prominent cheekbones, aquiline nose, and natural beauty would have put her in contention for Homecoming Queen. If she had gotten a chance. If she hadn’t gotten involved with Nate Yellow Bull.

  “She still looks like that.” Sadie replaced the frame on the faded spot on wall. “She did that goofy thing where she bleached her hair down the middle.”

  “Does she still wear it like that?” Manny asked.

  Sadie nodded. “Why?”

  Manny started to explain, but Chief Horn interrupted. “Was she home three nights ago?”

  Sadie dropped her eyes and sipped her coffee. “She came home late. Pret’near sun-up. She said Nathan’s car broke down on the way here. Said they had to walk. But they did not follow the road.”

  “How do you know that?” Manny asked.

  Sadie glared at him. “Just ’cause I am old does not mean I do not see things. They were both cut up when they got here. Cactus and sage brush thistles and jaggers stuck to their pants. They come across country from somewhere. They did not walk a road.” She finished her coffee and set her cup on the table. “That is all I know.”

  Chief Horn leaned over and held Sadie’s hand. The old woman’s face lit up. “Tuesday pinochle?”

  “Of course,” he told her. “Just send the bus around for me.”

  Chief Horn used the edge of the sofa to stand, a grimace crossing his face, his jaw tightening, and Manny looked away. Someday I’ll have more aches and pains than I’d like, too.

  On their way out, Manny bent to the puppies in the box in the kitchen. “Yours?” he asked.

  “Jane Cotton. Police Dispatcher. She will pick them up again when her shift is done for the day.”

  Manny ran his hand over fuzz barely a week old. “Wouldn’t you love to have one?” He asked Chief Horn.

  “He does not have the time for one,” Sadie said, with a slight sadness in her gruff voice.

  “So he’s already told me.”

  Manny held the passenger door for Chief Horn and walked around the front of the car. Just
before Manny sat behind the wheel, Sadie Moon called after him: “You find Shawna, you tell her that her bed is waiting for her. And tell her I love her.”

  Chapter 19

  Reuben reached over and ejected the CD. The “Too Fat Polka” stopped abruptly. He adjusted the knob until the radio took over, steady singing and heavy drum beats rising and falling and reverberating inside the car from KILI.

  Manny reached for the buttons, but Reuben slapped his hand away.

  “I don’t like pow wow music,” Manny said and reached again for the controls. Once again Reuben slapped his hand away.

  “You need to get in touch with your roots, Misun. Listen to the drum beat.”

  Manny shook his head and pulled out of Reuben’s driveway. “I can still get in touch with my roots if I listen to polka,” he muttered.

  Reuben smiled, but kept his hand hovering close to the radio controls. “I thought you and Willie had an agreement, that you wouldn’t listen to polka anymore?”

  “That’s with him in the car. When I’m alone, I listen to what I want.”

  “But you’re not alone. I’m with you.”

  Manny looked sideways at his brother scrunched into the seat of the government car, his knees rubbing the dash and his head butting up against the headliner. “You can listen to whatever you wish when you do the driving.”

  “I got no license.”

  “Didn’t stop you from driving Philbilly’s taco truck all over the rez, did it?”

  “Did anyone stop me?”

  “No,” Manny chuckled. “But only because they were scared to.”

  Reuben backed away as far as the confines of the car would allow. “I’m a sacred man now. It’s not like I would hurt anyone.”

  Manny’s hand snaked toward the controls, and Reuben turned the music down a notch. “And just why did you want to come along?”

  “I told you,” Reuben rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to get a trim at that neat little barber shop you mentioned.”

  “You didn’t even mention you needed a haircut until I said I needed to reinterview Bobo Groves.” Manny smiled and elbowed Reuben. “I think you just want to visit the bar, check out the show. See what girls are there.”