by J. A. Jance
“That’s the story,” Brandon continued. “Last night, when they booked Ava into the Pima County Jail, they ran her prints through AFIS. The name Ava Hanover popped up in relation to an arrest on a reckless driving charge near Sacramento, California, on the second of May 1983. The police report there indicates she was trying to drive straight through from Seattle to Arizona and fell asleep at the wheel.”
“That gave her both motive and opportunity to kill Kenneth Myers,” I said.
“And now we have a confession,” Brandon added.
Call waiting sounded. I saw on the screen it was Mel. That meant her plane was on the ground.
“Hey, Brandon,” I said. “I’ve gotta go, but good on you. Sounds like you nailed her.”
“We all did, Mr. Beaumont. Thanks for your help.”
“Beau,” I told him. “Call me Beau.”
“Okay,” Brandon said. “Next time, I will.”
Mel had traveled with one carry-on, so there was no need for her to wait around at the luggage carousel. On the drive back to Belltown Terrace, I repeated everything Brandon Walker had told me.
“Sounds like you and Todd Hatcher have been a pair of busy little bees while I’ve been gone,” she observed.
“Busy, yes,” I agreed, “and I’ll be the first to admit it’s been fun.”
“So on your first at-bat with TLC, you obviously hit it out of the park,” Mel observed. “You saved a young woman’s life and took down someone who’s clearly a criminal mastermind.”
“Todd Hatcher is the one who hit it out of the park. All I did was put him in touch with Brandon Walker.”
“I just gave you a compliment,” Mel said. “You’re supposed to say thank you.”
So I did.
There was a long silence in the car. Traffic was heavy. It was raining like crazy.
“So what do you think?” Mel asked at last.
“About what?”
“About TLC? Are you going to work with them again?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I just might,” I said. “I didn’t do much, but what I did felt damned good.”
CHAPTER 29
THEY SAY IT HAPPENED LONG ago that I’itoi, Elder Brother, came down from Baboquivari. He went to the villages of the Desert People, sat with them around campfires, and told them stories. He told them about how he created the water and the earth. He told them where Wind Man and Rain Man came from. He told them about the Man in the Maze and how the Desert People had emerged from the center of the earth.
The people loved Elder Brother’s stories so much that after I’itoi returned to his mountain, that was all the people wanted to do—sit around and listen to the stories over and over. No one wanted to feed and water the cattle. No one wanted to plant the corn and melons. The men stopped going hunting and the women stopped cooking and minding the fires. Soon there was no food. Everyone was hungry, and the Desert People started fighting among themselves.
Up on Baboquivari, I’itoi heard all the quarreling and wondered what all the fuss was about. When he learned what had happened, he was very sad, for you see, nawoj, my friend, although telling stories is good, you must do other things as well.
And that is why, even to this day, among the Tohono O’odham, the time for telling stories is only from the middle of November—Kehg S-hehpijig Mashath, the Fair Cold Month—to the middle of March—Chehthagi Mashath, the Green Month. Those are the cold months, the time when the snakes and lizards go to live underground. That’s why the stories of the Desert People are winter-telling tales. If a snake or lizard overhears a story, they can swallow the storyteller’s luck and bring him harm.
IT WAS FRIDAY AGAIN, A whole week later. Once again Leo Ortiz drove Lani and Gabe past Rattlesnake Skull charco at the base of Ioligam. Lani had been both surprised and gratified when a chastened Gabe had shown up in her office earlier in the week, asking if it would be possible for a do-over of their campout. Hopeful that the events of the previous weekend might have somehow penetrated some of the boy’s defenses, Lani had agreed on the spot. With both Dan and her slated to work that weekend, it had taken some serious scheduling readjustments to make it work.
So now Lani, Gabe, and a very grumpy Leo were once again lugging their goods up the side of the mountain. “After everything that happened, I don’t understand why you have to come here again,” he grumbled as he dropped his bundle of firewood. “Couldn’t you camp somewhere else?”
“Stories have to end where they begin,” Lani said quietly.
Leo simply sighed and shook his head.
The changes in Gabe were remarkable. This time there was no surliness on his part. He hadn’t played video games on his phone during the drive from Sells, and he handed it over without a murmur of complaint to his father as Leo left. He set about building the fire pit without being told and waited quietly while Lani heated their simple supper.
It was after sunset when they settled down beside the fire. Gabe had been quiet during most of the evening and Lani didn’t want to push him. She knew he had things he wanted to say, and she didn’t want him to rush.
“I guess it’s too late to tell I’itoi stories,” he said. “I saw the snake.”
A rattler, still lethargic from hibernation, had crossed the path ahead of them on their hike up the mountain. Lani nodded. “I saw him, too.”
“Why did you let him go?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because the Tohono O’odham only kill to defend themselves or to eat.”
Lani smiled. “That’s right. The snake wasn’t bothering us, and I had no intention of eating him.”
“I was going to kill Henry Rojas,” Gabe admitted at last. “I had Tim’s knife. If Henry Rojas had opened the box, I would have.”
“I know,” Lani said, “and if you had, you would have been stuck out here for sixteen days. Your parents would have been fit to be tied. So would Mrs. Travers. She wouldn’t like you to miss that much school.”
“Is Mrs. Travers sick?” Gabe asked.
Lani gave him an appraising look before she answered. “She’s my patient, Gabe. I can’t talk about that.”
“If she goes to the Indian hospital, does that mean she’s an Indian?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
Until that moment, Gabe had always believed Mrs. Travers was an Anglo. Gabe nodded. “Okay,” he said.
After that, he was quiet for a time while the wind whispered softly through the manzanita.
“Mrs. José came to see me in the hospital,” Gabe said. “She’s your patient, too. I knew it already, but she told me herself that she’s dying.”
Lani didn’t respond one way or the other.
“My parents said that if that happens, Tim might come live with us. What would you think of that?”
“It might be good for both of you,” Lani said. “Just because Tim’s brothers did bad things doesn’t mean he’s bad. Maybe you could help him.”
“Maybe,” Gabe said. “I hope so.”
He tossed another log on the fire, but the boy still seemed troubled, and Lani suspected there was more to come.
“Henry Rojas was a bad man,” Gabe said at last. “Do you think Mrs. Rojas will stay in Sells? I heard that she’s thinking about moving back to the Navajo.”
Lani nodded. “That’s what I heard, too. After everything that happened, I don’t blame her. I don’t believe Lucy had any idea about what Henry was doing behind her back. And the evil Anglo woman he was working with—the woman who had the José brothers smuggling diamonds for her—reminds me of the Evil Giantess in the story of Little White Feather. Do you remember that one?”
“I remember some of it,” Gabe said. “I think you told it to me a long time ago.”
Lani smiled. “I’ll tell it to you again someday—next winter maybe.
”
“I had a dream last night,” Gabe continued after another pause. “It was a weird one. I think it was about the people that evil woman killed—not just Carlos and Paul and Henry, but the other people, too.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I was walking through a cemetery—a Milgahn cemetery somewhere in town, not here on the reservation. The graves opened up and skeletons started coming out of them. They made a circle around me, and even though they were only bones, I could tell them apart and knew all their names. They were holding hands and dancing. I should have been afraid, but somehow I wasn’t. That’s what was so weird. I wasn’t frightened.”
“That’s one of the things a medicine man or a medicine woman can do,” Lani said. “They can look at a dream and see what it means. The bones were dancing because after all this time the person who murdered them is finally facing justice. They were happy. You weren’t frightened of them because they weren’t scary.”
“Do you think I’ll ever be a real medicine man like my grandfather was?” Gabe asked.
“I think you can become one,” Lani replied. “You’ll have to study hard and learn a lot. Your father told me you said that I gave you some divining crystals.”
Gabe lowered his head. “That was a lie,” he said. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Gabe pulled out four tiny stones and held them out to her in the palm of his hand, where they sparkled in the firelight.
“You didn’t give them to me. I found them in the jar of peanut butter Tim left for me. I took out a spoonful of the peanut butter, and when I washed everything else away, these were what was left. I’ll give them back if you tell me I should, but they worked,” he added. “That night when I was in the hospital, I used them. When I held them in my hand and sang to them, they told me you would be all right. That you would be safe.”
Another long silence followed. “I don’t think you need to give them back,” Lani said at last, taking Gabe’s outstretched hand and closing his fingers around the glittering diamonds. “I think you should keep them. Put them back in your pocket and keep them safe. You know how the Ohb would take scalps when they defeated their enemies?”
Gabe nodded.
“They took them as trophies. And that’s what these diamonds are—they represent a piece of the evil Milgahn woman. You have a trophy, and so do I.”
“You do?” Gabe asked, putting the diamonds back in his pocket.
“Yes,” Lani said. She reached into her backpack and pulled out her medicine basket, the one she had woven during her sixteen days of exile. Removing the tightly fitting cover, she extracted the tiny pot and passed it to Gabe. “Can you see the design?”
Gabe held it close to the fire and peered at it closely. “An owl and a turtle?” he asked finally.
“Yes, those are from the story of Little White Feather as well. Owl and Turtle were the first to help Shining Falls when she came under the spell of the Evil Giantess. I believe this is an ancient pot, Gabe, maybe even as old as the ones that belonged to Betraying Woman, the ones I found in the cave. It was made by someone who knew and loved the story of Little White Feather. The evil Milgahn woman had this pot with her on the night she shot Henry Rojas. It must have fallen out of her pocket, maybe when she was putting the duct tape on my face. And now I’m giving it to you.”
“For me?” Gabe asked in surprise. “To keep?”
“No,” Lani said, “I’m giving it to you to break.” She brought out one of Dan’s white hankies and laid it across a rock. “I want you to break it on this. Don’t smash it. I want you to crack it open very gently like you would if you were breaking an egg. Once you do, I want you to wrap the pieces up in the hankie, take them home, and glue them back together. By breaking the pot, you’ll be setting free the spirit of the woman who made it. And once you glue it back together, you’ll have a place to keep your divining crystals.”
Frowning in concentration, Gabe did as he was told. When he tapped the clay pot gently on the hankie-covered rock, it split apart into four distinct pieces.
“See there?” Lani grinned. “All of nature goes in four. And once you’ve tied the hankie shut, you can put it in this.”
Once again she reached into her backpack. This time she pulled out the second medicine basket, one she had woven with love in hopes of one day giving it to Gabe.
His jaw dropped in disbelief. “A medicine basket?” he asked. “A medicine basket of my very own?”
“Heu’u,” Lani said softly. “Yes, your grandfather, Fat Crack, and an old blind medicine man named Looks at Nothing would be very proud.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. A. JANCE is the New York Times bestselling author of the J. P. Beaumont series, the Joanna Brady series, the Ali Reynolds series, and five interrelated thrillers about the Walker family, as well as a volume of poetry. Born in South Dakota and brought up in Bisbee, Arizona, Jance lives with her husband in Seattle, Washington, and Tucson, Arizona.
www.jajance.com
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ALSO BY J. A. JANCE
J. P. Beaumont Mysteries
Until Proven Guilty
Injustice for All
Trial by Fury
Taking the Fifth
Improbable Cause
A More Perfect Union
Dismissed with Prejudice
Minor in Possession
Payment in Kind
Without Due Process
Failure to Appear
Lying in Wait
Name Withheld
Breach of Duty
Birds of Prey
Partner in Crime
Long Time Gone
Justice Denied
Fire and Ice
Betrayal of Trust
Ring in the Dead: A J. P. Beaumont Novella
Second Watch
Stand Down: A J. P. Beaumont Novella
Joanna Brady Mysteries
Desert Heat
Tombstone Courage
Shoot/Don't Shoot
Dead to Rights
Skeleton Canyon
Rattlesnake Crossing
Outlaw Mountain
Devil's Claw
Paradise Lost
Partner in Crime
Exit Wounds
Dead Wrong
Damage Control
Fire and Ice
Judgment Call
The Old Blue Line: A Joanna Brady Novella
Remains of Innocence
Walker Family Novels
Hour of the Hunter
Kiss of the Bees
Day of the Dead
Queen of the Night
Ali Reynolds Novels
Edge of Evil
Web of Evil
Hand of Evil
Cruel Intent
Trial by Fire
Fatal Error
Left for Dead
Deadly Stakes
Poetry
After the Fire
CREDITS
Cover design by Richard L. Aquan
Cover photograph © by Carsten Peter/Getty Images
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DANCE OF THE BONES. Copyright © 2015 by J. A. Jance. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineer
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EPub Edition SEPTEMBER 2015 ISBN: 9780062297686
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