by Billy Kring
“Our insurance man. I asked him to meet us at the office. Because of our accident.”
Hunter said, “You ordered him, you didn’t ask him.”
Marc said, “I’m afraid Mr. Bazin still has difficulty with the proper manners of American speech.”
Hunter said to Andre, “I’ll be back.” And walked under the awning, angling for the doors.
Dessaline said, “Agent Kincaid, if you will wait, I have some information.”
Hunter said over her shoulder, “Tell Agent Benton. I’ll be back.”
Andre turned to Dessaline, “I’m all ears.”
Ariel was close enough to see and hear everything, but her attention turned to the stocky man in the sunglasses, and she was not far from him when he left his table. Something was going on here, under the surface of these conversations. And the woman, Agent Kincaid they called her, was on the hunt. Ariel watched her leave the group and come under the awning to follow the stocky man.
On a hunch, Ariel went inside Larios and spotted him, not hurrying, but continuing through the restaurant and passing the bar without taking a seat. He increased his stride and walked through the double doors of the kitchen. Ariel stopped and turned. Agent Kincaid was looking around, not finding him.
Ariel stepped to her and said, “Agent Kincaid, your man went into the kitchen. He will go on through the building and cross over to Collins. If you hurry you can find him.”
Hunter said, “I know you?”
She handed Hunter a business card, smiled and said, “Ariel Baimby, at your service.”
The card read: ARIEL BAIMBY – Psychic & Spiritualist - Palms Read, Past Lives Explored, Talk to Departed Loved Ones. – Reasonable Rates. Her address and phone number were across the bottom of the card.
Hunter said, “How about waiting here until I get back. We need to talk.”
“I’ll hold a table outside.”
Hunter slipped the business card in her pocket and trotted through Larios, out the back, across the alley-like street and onto Collins. She thought she saw him once, going south, but by the time she reached the corner he was gone. She stood on the sidewalk, looked for another minute, and then returned to Larios on the Beach.
Ariel sat at a table with Andre. Marc Dessaline and Ringo Bazin occupied a table nearest the street and sat so they could view the Agents…and Ariel.
Hunter shrugged at Andre and pulled out a chair to sit facing Ariel. Before she could say anything, Ariel spoke. “You must be careful. I told Andre before you arrived. There’s darkness near you.”
Hunter said, “I don’t speak psychic. Maybe you better spell it out, and while you’re at it, tell me how you knew I was after the guy in the sunglasses.”
“May I touch your hands? The connection is stronger that way, and my reading is more accurate.”
“I’m not paying you.”
“Of course not.” Hunter put her hands on the table and Ariel touched her fingertips to Hunter’s knuckles and closed her eyes. She frowned and said in a soft voice, “Oh my.” Hunter looked at Andre and rolled her eyes. He showed a faint grin. Ariel removed her hands and looked at Hunter. Her eyes were luminous. “You have a troubled spirit.”
“So do lots of people in law enforcement.”
Ariel looked at her, “They are not like you, not like this. Not your friend Andre here, or the other two.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed a fraction, “What other two?”
“They are not together. One is worried about something. The other, he is troubled, but in a different way than yours.”
Hunter felt her scalp prickle. She felt suspicious and unnerved at the same time. “Keep going,” she said.
Andre noticed that the two Haitian men, Dessaline and Bazin, had stopped talking to each other and now watched them.
Ariel said to Hunter, “There is a darkness on the path you take, and if you are not careful, it will devour you.” She took a deep breath, “Your actions may bring your friends into it, too. Be careful what you do, Agent Kincaid.”
Hunter wiped her clammy palms on her pants. “Thanks for the free reading, but that’s not helping me find the people I need. They killed a lot of people.”
Ariel said, “I know. Drowned people, sharks, all of it.”
“If you’re so good, tell me where the man in the sunglasses went.”
Ariel said, “He will soon, very soon, be on a boat, leaving here. You will not find him, but he will return and bring more trouble.”
Hunter removed her hand and said, “If you do a Vulcan mind-meld with him in the future and find out his itinerary, call me. I’d like to meet him at the dock.” She gave Ariel her business card. “Use the cell number.”
Andre said, “You ready?”
Hunter rose, “You bet.”
Ariel watched them go, and then she rose and walked to the two Haitian men. “Would you gentlemen care for a reading?”
Dessaline pulled out a chair, “Have a seat.”
Ringo watched the two Agents drive away, before turning his attention to Ariel. He placed his large hand on top of hers.
Ariel’s breath caught in her chest. His hand was cold.
She removed her hand from under his and pulled out two business cards, using that time to recover her composure. She said, “In case you desire my services in the future.”
Dessaline smiled at her. His golden eyes made her uneasy. Her eyes were amber, a golden green, but nothing like his. Dessaline said, “What did you and the Agents discuss?”
“I told them what I do.”
Dessaline scooted his chair close to her. “What did you tell them about the other man? I know what you are, Ariel Baimby.” He motioned at her eyes, then his, “You are marabou, as am I, so do not lie to me. ”
Ariel felt her bladder weaken. She was no hero, and told them everything. They asked her questions about Agent Kincaid’s friends. Dessaline pushed her to tell them about this one who was far away. She said, “He is an Apache.”
Marc said, “An American Indian?”
“Yes.”
“I believe I saw something last year on the news about an Apache detective involved in a bit of trouble. He was from north of us, Pembroke Pines, I believe. Is he the same one?”
“Yes.”
Marc smiled at her, “Thank you. Ariel. You may go now.” He held up her business card, “And I know how to reach you if I ever need a pwofèt, a seer.” He leaned closer to her, touched her hand. Ariel felt her eyesight dim, like looking at things through smoke, and she heard a barely audible whimper escape her own lips. He said, “We know each other now, you and I.” Dessaline removed his hand.
Ariel rose and stumbled out to the sunlight, where her eyesight cleared. She walked away so fast that her heels clicked on the concrete. Ariel wanted a lot of distance between her and the two men. She thought again about the Apache detective she remembered reading about in the papers, the man who, with Detective Quick and a female Border Patrol Agent named Hunter Kincaid stopped a murderous criminal not far north of where she was. What was the Apache’s name? Ishtee. Ariel shivered and hurried to her car.
~*~
Randall Ishtee found a space at the front of the Lincoln County Medical Center in Ruidoso and parked his rental. He exited and smelled the scent of pines, felt the dry, cool air, and looked at a cloudless blue sky above Ruidoso. He missed this. More than he thought he would. Someone waved at him from behind the glass of the hospital doors, but he couldn’t make them out because of the glare.
The door opened and Jeffrey Chee waved him over, saying, “Been a long time, Randall.”
Randall entered the hospital, which always gave him an uncomfortable feeling; it had since he was a kid. “Good to see you.”
Jeffrey said, “Grandfather’s been asking every five minutes if you’re here yet.”
“How is he?”
“He’s just old. Something else is eating at him up here, though,” Jeffrey tapped his temple. He said, “When I found him at Whitetail, I
thought he’d fallen and broke something. He was lying on some pine logs and not moving. I called to him and he turned his head, but couldn’t get up, so next thing I thought was that he’d been drinking,” He looked at Randall, “You know, he did there for a while after his wife passed.”
“I know.”
“Anyhow, he wasn’t drunk or injured. Said Dahteste called him up to talk, so he hoofed it there and somewhere in all that, he had a vision, or several visions, he said.”
“And what did Dahteste supposedly tell him?”
“Grandfather said it was about danger coming,” Jeffrey looked at Randall, “for you and your friends.”
“What kind of danger?”
“He didn’t say. He kind of went limp and passed out again. I checked him over and didn’t find nothin’ broken, so I picked him up, put him in my pickup and brought him here.”
“Did he say anything on the way to the hospital?”
“Nope, just slept, looked like at the time. When they got him in the room, that’s when he said he needed to talk to you. Since then he’s been his old self, sharp as a tack.”
“But he didn’t hurt himself, or suffer from hypothermia?”
“Only mental stuff, but physically he’s okay. Well, for his age. You get to be a hundred and five, and anything can set you to the curb, you know?”
Randall nodded, “What room is he in?”
“I’ll walk with you.” They passed the nurses’ station and turned down the hall as Jeffrey said, “He’s still imagining things, says he had more visions, so be aware of that.”
Randall knew Jeffrey didn’t place much faith in the old ways, although he was like most of the tribe in not wanting to say the names of deceased people or talk much about them, but he was a good friend and cousin. Randall said, “Maybe we can get together later, grab a bite.”
“I’m always hungry. How about K-Bob’s?”
“Sure. I’ll call you when I leave here.”
“Good to see you, Randall. It’s been too long.” Jeffrey clapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the open door of room seventeen. “Later.”
Randall entered, and saw his grandfather was awake, the old eyes bright. Grandfather said, “You came fast, grandson.”
Randall sat beside his bed, seeing how frail his grandfather looked in the hospital gown, and how the skin on his forearms was tissue paper thin, almost translucent, with the veins showing under it like small, pale blue worms. Randall said, “Are they going to let you out of here, or do you like the food so much you’re going to stay?”
“Ha-ha. I told them you would take me to the house.”
“I’ll visit with the doctor about it first.”
“That’s fine. He will be here soon. Maybe ten minutes, I figure.”
Randall wanted to hear from his grandfather about what happened, and not simply rely on Jeffrey’s story. He said, “Why were you at Whitetail?” His grandfather was silent for several minutes, which did not make Randall uncomfortable, because long silences while talking were a common trait among the Apache.
Grandfather patted Randall’s hand and said, “Had to do some visiting and find out a few things. I’ve had bad dreams lately. About you.”
“Me?”
“There’s trouble coming your way. I had to be in someplace where I could see it better, without interruptions, so I went to Whitetail.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“It wasn’t clear, kind of like seein’ a far off storm or black cloud. But you and your friends are in the path. Do you still have the Tzi-Dalti, I gave you?”
“Yes. I have it in my pocket.” Randall pulled out the thumb-sized amulet his grandfather made for him two years ago. The old Apache carved it from the root of a lightning struck tree that grew through a small vein of turquoise. Two small blue stones the size of honeybees were encased in the wood.
Grandfather said, “Good. Keep it with you.” He looked at the door, “Doctor Galindo is coming down the hall.”
Randall heard nothing. Grandfather said, “You’ve lived in the city too long, lost your good hearing.” He grinned, “Don’t worry about it; I wouldn’t be able to hear the things you hear in the city, so you are still in harmony.”
Doctor Galindo entered the room and Randall introduced himself.
Galindo said, “He’s been talking about you ever since he arrived.”
“My grandfather says you might be releasing him.”
“Since you’re here. I’d like to keep him overnight for a final observation, and release him in the morning.”
Grandfather said, “Doctor Galindo, I’m ready. Just in case you were doubtful.”
“I’m sure you are, Mr. Ishtee.” He checked the charts, then the patient. “You’re looking better, and those little cuts and scratches are healing well. I’ll start the paperwork so you can be out of here before lunch tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to Randall, “Walk with me, please.”
Randall said to his grandfather, “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Outside the room, Doctor Galindo said, “Your grandfather is doing remarkably well, let me assure you. But he’s been having lapses in memory for the last year, and appears to forget where he is going, or where he is. It is natural, especially at his age, but you should be aware of how he is. Mr. Ishtee may need to be placed in a nursing home if he deteriorates further.”
Randall felt like someone threw ice water in his face. He couldn’t imagine his grandfather in a nursing home. The old man lived outside most of the time, only going in the house to sleep, and to cook in the winter on the days when it was too cold or wet to use his wood fire stove on the covered flagstone patio. Randall said, “We’ll cross that bridge when it becomes necessary.”
Doctor Galindo said, “I didn’t mean to alarm you, but I wanted to make you aware of what’s happening. He is one of the oldest people in the country, not simply on the reservation.” Galindo rubbed his nose, “And then again, your grandfather may outlive us both.”
Randall left the hospital an hour later and checked in to the La Quinta before calling Jeffrey about eating at K-Bob’s Steakhouse.
When he arrived, Jeffrey had a booth for them. “How’d it go?”
Randall said, “Doctor Galindo’s going to release him in the morning. He’s doing better.”
“You going to stay with him, make sure he’s doing okay?”
“Yeah. For a while.”
“You stay too long, he’ll run you off. He likes his independence. Chased me with a stick about three months ago because I kept asking him questions.”
“I believe it. I asked him why he went to Whitetail, and he talked around it, never really got to what happened. Said he was having bad dreams about me being in trouble.”
Jeffrey said, “I heard from the folks he passed going up there, the Kawayklas. They saw him talking like he was having a conversation with someone, but there wasn’t anyone around. They said he called names of folks that aren’t with us anymore. Spooked them, so they called me.”
“I’ll talk to the Kawayklas, see if they can add anything to this.” The server brought them menus, and both ordered water to drink. Randall continued, “I figure that having him at his house and getting more time to talk, I’ll find out what’s bothering him.”
“Good luck.” When the food arrived, they ate, talking between bites, catching up on local things and people they knew the way friends do when they haven’t seen one another in a while.
Randall went to his room afterward and called John Quick.
John answered, “You enjoying the high country?”
“You bet.”
“Good.”
Randall said, “Has Hunter filled you in on things?”
“She’s going to in about an hour or so. We’re going to your house and eat mangoes.”
“You turd.”
John laughed, “Just kiddin’. We’re going into Lauderdale and find someplace to eat and have a few d
rinks while we talk. She said she wants to see and hear the ocean.”
“That’s good. What about our cases at homicide?”
“Finishing up putting the last evidence in the file on that murder last week.”
“The tweakers.”
“Yeah, Cosmè Davidson, where he stabbed Squeegee Simmons for using Davidson’s trick of fishing with mouse-catching sticky pads in outside mailboxes to bring up letters and stuff. Cosmè claimed that was copyright infringement, and that particular mailbox was in his territory.”
“That was a sticky case.”
John laughed again, “How’s Grandfather?”
“I’m picking him up in the morning. Then he and I will do some talking.”
“Take as long as you need. Family’s too important not to.”
“I will, but it won’t be long.”
John said, “I know. One thing about Grandfather, when he tells you to get out, he does it with love.”
“You’re grinning, aren’t you? Admit it. Grandfather’s a tiny terror when he’s had enough.”
“Okay, it’s a tough love.”
“There you go. Talk to you tomorrow.” He hung up and reclined on the bed. Randall made a list of food to buy in the morning. Grandfather ate like a bird, so he needed some extra groceries for standby. Sleep came easy at first, but in the early morning hours some terrible dream invaded his mind, and Randall awoke with a yell stuck in his throat. He calmed down, letting his pounding heart slow, and could only recall one image from the nightmare: An open-mouthed human face with glistening shark teeth, partially hidden in shadow, and advancing toward him.
Chapter 3
John picked up Hunter at her hotel and drove them to Lauderdale. Blondie’s wasn’t crowded, so they grabbed an outside table and ordered burgers and beer. The breeze came off the ocean; bringing faint briny smells of seaweed and fish, with an occasional coconut fragrance from a passing pedestrian’s suntan lotion.
“How’s your case going?” John asked.
“Slow. We were in Little Haiti and South Beach, checking leads on the ship’s captain. I thought I saw him and tried to catch the guy on foot, but it didn’t work out. Might not have even been him, just had the build, and walked something like I remembered.”