29
Chee said, “Where is Lee now?”
“I don’t know. I heard him scramble up the hill.”
Chee noticed how she winced as she moved closer to Palmer. “You might have cracked something in that fall.”
“I’m OK, lucky I didn’t split my head on one of those rocks.”
Chee said, “I’m hiking up to call for a copter and let the feds know about Lee.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Guarding Palmer was your job, remember? You’re stronger than I am, and getting him out of here is going to be tough.” Bernie hobbled toward him, and he saw her grimace. “You stay here. I’ll go for help.”
He shook his head. “Protecting Palmer is my job, just like you said. I don’t like his condition. I’m not injured. I can get help for him faster. You know that, don’t you?”
She looked at him for several long seconds and he knew from the jut of her chin that she wanted to argue. Finally, she said, “If you see Lee on the trail, be careful.”
He unzipped his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “I promise.”
She shrugged off the coat. “You keep it.”
“No. What if you or Palmer go into shock?”
She nodded. “Don’t hike up this way. Climb down between those two rocks and you’ll hit the main trail. It’s longer but quicker.”
She watched him make his way down the hill until he vanished in the fog.
Palmer’s skin was gray and his breathing shallow. She put Chee’s jacket over him and then hobbled to retrieve the beautiful turquoise Pendleton.
The voice startled her.
“You’re too smart for your own good.” Lee sounded tired. Tired and desperate. “If you and Chee had been slower, I could have finished Palmer off with his insulin pen. Not a terrible way to die, and it would have made life simpler for all of us. But now, well, we have a problem.”
Bernie couldn’t see where the voice came from. She drew her gun.
“No, you have a problem. Chee knows you tried to kill us, and he’s on his way to the feds. I’ve got a weapon pointed at you. It’s over. Come out and make things easier on yourself.”
“I didn’t want to kill you, just slow you down so I could take care of that stinkin’ weasel.” Lee’s voice seemed to come from a large rise of rocks. “Palmer has some kinda hold on Lona. She can’t see that he’s all talk. And nobody should ignore his own kid like that.”
Bernie said, “You helped me with that injured man. Let me help you.”
“Honey, you’re in the way of the mission now, so your death has to look like an accident.”
She heard a rock collide with something and turned toward the sound.
“Up here.” Lee towered above her, in the opposite direction from where he’d tossed the first rock. The huge stone he hurled now brushed her shoulder as she dodged away. Bernie almost lost her balance with the impact.
The exertion cost Lee his footing. She saw him stagger on a narrow sandstone outcrop. Then he tumbled off the ledge and rolled down the slope, propelled by momentum, making no effort to break his descent. She watched him fall into the deep gray gloom.
She listened for a moan, a stirring against the rocks. The man was tough, fired by jealousy and revenge. If he was still alive, he’d muster every ounce of energy to kill her and Palmer. He had nothing to lose.
She limped to where she’d seen him disappear and looked down into the gray haze, but she saw only stillness. At first she heard nothing. Then a rumbling growl rose from below her. Even though the fog tried to mute it, she recognized the song of the lion. She made her way to the Pendleton jacket and back to Palmer. She shook off the dirt, and as she prepared to cover him, she found something in the pocket. She pulled it out—a bag of M&M’s, Chee’s favorite. She gave one to Palmer, then popped some into her own mouth—a sorry substitute for lunch. She fed him another and, when she was sure he could handle it, a sip of water from her backpack.
The increased warmth and the sugar gradually made Palmer more alert.
“Chee?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
“It’s me, Bernie. Chee went for help.”
Palmer reached for her hand. His squeeze hurt her damaged fingers, but she didn’t pull away.
“What happened?”
“Byrum Lee tried to kill you.”
He wrinkled his brow. “Why?”
“Jealousy. Don’t worry about that now. Rest.”
She had trail mix in her backpack and shared it all with him as they watched the light begin to fade and waited for rescue. She felt cold, sore, hungry, and glad to be alive. After forever, the noisy, distinctive, and welcome sound of a helicopter filled the sky.
She tugged the turquoise jacket off Palmer and waved it, hoping the pilot could see the flash of color through the trees. The helicopter moved closer, finally hovering overhead. Tricky work, she thought. Their rescuing angel looked like a bottom-heavy dragonfly. She saw something red leave its belly, swaying in the breeze. No, two somethings—a person and a big pack.
The EMT, a man in his forties, introduced himself as Scott. He looked at her battered hands, but she directed his attention to Palmer.
“He’s diabetic and he had a bad fall,” she said. “His shoulder could be a problem.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged off the question. “There’s another man down the slope. From the way he fell, I think he’s unconscious or worse. I called out to him, but he didn’t answer.”
“Show me.”
She moved gingerly to the spot where Lee had disappeared. Scott yelled his name loudly, with no answer.
“I’ll have search and rescue deal with him. We’ve got to get Palmer some help, and you don’t look too good either, Officer.”
She helped Scott place the rescue harness around Palmer and watched the mediator swing on the cable as he ascended to the belly of the helicopter and the waiting arms of another medic.
“Come on,” Scott said. “You’re next. You get a lift outta here.”
“No thanks. I can hike out.”
“No arguing.”
Bernie looked at the harness and the swaying line that spanned the breathtaking distance between the ground and the hovering dragonfly with more trepidation than she’d felt at the sight of the lion.
Scott extended the harness toward her. “We’ve got an injured man up there, remember? Get going.”
She slipped it on and squeezed the fetish in her pocket as Scott secured her harness to the cable.
30
Chee found Bernie in the ER waiting room at the hospital in Flagstaff.
She gave him the update on Palmer. “Besides the fractured shoulder, he has broken ribs. He’s in surgery.”
“How about you?”
“They said I have a bruised back, cuts, scrapes, the usual. They gave me something for my headache and muscle pain and predicted a few days of soreness. Worst of all, I’m starving. The cafeteria is one floor below us!”
“I brought you some clean clothes and those earrings that you like.”
She looked in the bag and smiled at him. “Almost as good as a sandwich. Thanks. I’ll change and let’s eat.”
Chee didn’t like hospitals. He couldn’t free himself of the idea that people died there. He thought about suggesting that they go somewhere other than the cafeteria, but he wanted to be close when Palmer got out of surgery.
She dressed quickly. They ordered a Coke for her, coffee for him, hamburgers for both, and took their trays to a vacant table.
Chee said, “How was your ride to Flagstaff?”
“Fine, once I got inside the helicopter. I wondered if I would get sick. I kept remembering how airsick the Lieutenant always gets. The fog lifted, and I got to see the canyon from a condor’s perspective.”
“Cool.” Chee felt his phone vibrate. “It’s Cordova.” He took the call.
Bernie sipped her Coke and thought about ordering a second hamburger.
“She’s banged up, b
ut she says she’s fine. Here.”
He handed his phone to Bernie.
Cordova said, “I wanted to let you know we just arrested Blankenship.”
“For being a jerk?”
Cordova chuckled. “We had him on the radar from a protest in California. They matched him to the surveillance video but it took a while because he shaved his head and he’d had a beard and long hair in California. He was behind the vandalism at the Justice Center, the problems with the power and the heat.”
“Did Blankenship say anything about the bomb at Shiprock?”
“No. He denies involvement in that. I heard you took care of Lee pretty good.”
“I just stepped out of his way and let gravity do the job. Did search and rescue find him?”
“What was left. A big predator had a meal out of him.” Cordova cleared his throat. “Take care of yourself, Manuelito. If you and Chee get to Michigan, look me up.”
She gave Chee his phone and put her drink down. “I’m stunned about Lee. How can a guy who seemed so nice and helpful—”
Chee said, “I forgot to tell you. Leaphorn sent an e-mail about his conversation with Mrs. Nez. She saw the guy who hired her grandson to mess with the car. You know, the envelope said that down payment should be returned to Blankenship, but she described the man as a tall, thin bilagaana with a white cowboy hat. That’s Lee.”
He stopped talking as an attractive Navajo woman walked up to their table. She looked at Bernie.
“Are you Bernie Manuelito?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Lona Zahne.”
“Lona! Your smile has hardly changed since high school. This is my husband, Jim Chee.”
Chee stood. “Join us.” He waved toward an empty chair.
“Thanks, but I’m here with a message for you, Bernie. Rocket—I mean Robert—wants to talk to you.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Much better, thanks. He’s young and strong, and that will help him recover. He said you asked him a question and he didn’t tell you the truth. Finish your food and come up when you can.” She gave Bernie the room number.
After Lona left, Bernie said, “You told Palmer that Robert wanted to see him. Was that true?”
Chee smiled. “Of course. Robert might not have actually said it, but he does. Why else would he have been such a pain in Tuba City?”
On their way to the stairs, they encountered Denny Duke. The old Paiute broke into a grin. “Hey there. I have something for you to give Mr. Palmer.” He showed them Palmer’s black bag. “I found it in the outhouse.”
Chee said, “Yeah, I remember seeing it there.”
Bernie said, “What happened to the delegates after Palmer disappeared? Did everyone behave?”
Duke said, “Ma’am, you’d be surprised. They listened to the Indian stories, and then Mr. Keevama asked everyone to climb back on the bus. He said Chee and you were looking for Mr. Palmer and that the FBI was helping.”
Like all good storytellers, Duke paused. “Guess what happened then?”
Bernie said, “I don’t know. What?”
“Mr. Keevama told the delegates they should cancel the mediation until future notice. The Navajo representatives agreed, and then they acted like it was really their idea. The rest of them went along with it, even the Canyonmark dudes.” Duke laughed. “The Grand Canyon has been there a long time. It will still be there when the next plan to change it comes along.”
He said to Bernie, “You know, I met you at that big game in Shiprock when you helped keep everything calm. You did real good.”
“I thought I remembered you.”
“My neighbor’s grandson is a Chieftain. He’s on the team, but mostly on the bench.”
Duke gave Palmer’s bag to Chee. And he was gone.
Robert’s face was swollen, and an ugly bruise stretched between his right eye and his chin. His left arm was in a sling. Lona sat in a chair next to him. Chee took his familiar place against the wall.
Bernie walked over to Robert. “Hi. Your mother said you wanted to talk to me. Is it all right with you if she and Chee stay here, too?”
“Sure.” Robert looked down at his damaged arm, then raised his gaze past her to the wall with the whiteboard for patient and staff comments. “Mom told me about what happened in the canyon, about Lee hurting you and my dad. I can’t believe it.”
Bernie said, “He fooled me, too.”
“We were at that restaurant with Dad and you asked me about the explosion, right?”
“I remember.”
“Well, I know why Rick was there, I just didn’t want to talk about it with my dad around.”
“Do you want to tell me now?”
He nodded. “Rick knew a lot about cars, so when Lee asked me for somebody who could help his friend, some dude named Blankenship, I gave him Rick’s name.”
Young people like Robert didn’t mind saying the names of the dead. Bernie waited.
“When we were driving to the big game, Rick told me that Blankenship had given him a bunch of money to put something in a fancy BMW. He figured it was a tracking device.”
“Rick said the guy who owned the car owed Blankenship money. He wanted Rick to steal the car later, when it wouldn’t be so obvious. Rick felt funny about that; he was trying to go straight but he needed cash because he wanted to get married.”
Robert pushed against the pillows to sit a bit straighter. “We got to the game way early and Rick put in the tracker. We watched Aza play, and Rick noticed his number—twenty-three. He got a funny look on his face. He told me that was the number on the special license plate on the car he’d messed with—a Beemer from Arizona—and that he needed to undo what he’d done. He said he’d be right back and he went out through the side door.
“That tracking device was really a bomb. Rick went out to remove it. Blankenship must have seen him, figured out what he was up to, and set it off.”
Bernie said, “One of the people I talked to about that night mentioned a young man outside the gym, standing there looking suspicious, wearing a blue sweatshirt with a hood. Was that you?”
“I went out to find Rick.” Robert’s voice grew softer. “I think he knew that thing might go off if he messed with it. He was just sitting in the car and he waved at me to go back inside. Rick died because I got him involved in that. He liked Aza and never would have harmed him. My dad loved him, loved him better than he loved me.”
Lona put her hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Aza did love Rick, and he loves you, too. He wanted custody when we got divorced, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I was so furious I wouldn’t let him talk to you when he called. I threw the letters and presents he sent you in the trash.”
Chee walked into the hall to take a call.
Bernie turned to Lona. “Lee was jealous of Aza, that’s why he wanted to kill him. And he used Robert to help.”
Robert said, “Rick told me Blankenship was the guy who hired him. But I did give his name to Lee.”
“Lee hated Blankenship, too, because an environmental group Blankenship had worked for cheated Lee’s sister. Lee arranged the explosion and used Blankenship’s name in case things went bad. That’s why Lee showed up after the explosion.”
“So Rick is dead because of Lee. I liked Mr. Lee.”
Bernie said, “Lee wasn’t all bad. He helped at the bomb scene.” Lee must have wanted to make sure Rick didn’t talk to anyone about his role in the explosion, but she didn’t say that.
Chee returned from the hall. “The nurse said Aza came through surgery just fine. He’ll be in recovery awhile, and then they can move him to a regular floor.”
Robert looked at the empty bed in his room.
“I’d like it if he could be here with me.”
Lona said, “Me, too.”
Bernie stood. “One last question. What happened with your accident, Robert? Everyone says you’re a good driver.”
He looked at the faces in the room. “Rick was dead becau
se of me. I thought I deserved to die, too. I drove too fast and went off the road on purpose. I wanted it to look like an accident so I scrapped the fender against a fence first. I didn’t want anyone to feel guilty. But Dad always made me wear my seat belt. I got in the habit, and that’s what saved me.” His voice broke with emotion. “Dad gave me another chance.”
Chee handed Palmer’s bag to Lona. “He treasures this. He takes it everywhere. I think he’ll be glad to have it back.”
Lona touched the leather. “I thought he’d forgotten all about it, the same way he forgot all about me.”
“You were wrong on both counts.” Chee smiled at her. “Good luck.”
Chee drove himself and Bernie back to the Tuba City motel, north on US 89 and then northeast on US 160. Bernie, who seldom fell asleep on the road, snoozed with her head against the headrest, waking only when he turned off the engine at the motel.
She smiled. “Thanks for driving.”
“Gave me time to think about the last few days. It makes sense except for one thing. Mrs. Nez. Did she lie to you and Cordova about her grandson knowing Palmer?”
Bernie shook her head, noticing the ghost of a headache. “Sort of but not exactly. I asked her if he ever mentioned Palmer’s name and she said no. Cordova and I didn’t ask the right question. Of course he wouldn’t use Aza’s name. She told Leaphorn the boy called him shidá’í. What else would he call his uncle?”
“Are you going to tell Cordova he goofed?”
“No. That’s his going-away present.”
When they entered the motel lobby, they found Darleen and CS waiting.
“Hey there,” Darleen said. “We’re heading home, but we were wondering if, well . . .”
Bernie guessed her sister needed money.
CS picked up the story. “We saw this lady with a flock of sheep out by the highway today. The animals were all over the road, and so Darleen thought we should help.”
Darleen said, “She wanted to take them to Tuba City to meet our president, but I told her the whole mediation was canceled. She didn’t know what to do, but CS had a good idea.”
He took up the story. “I said we could do a video with the sheep and what she wanted to say, and then send it to the president. She liked the idea.”
Song of the Lion Page 27