When had the crowd multiplied? Where there had been four young men and some curious spectators, now a group of Native Americans glared at her.
“Everyone calm down,” the clown said again.
His voice disappeared in Big Elk’s bellow. “Our ancestors didn’t allow the pahana priests to destroy our way of life. In this time, when the Fourth World hangs in the balance, we need to have the courage of our grandfathers.”
The clown held his hand up to silence Big Elk. “Hopi people value a humble life, self-respect, respect for others, compassion, integrity, self-control.” He inhaled. “We are not activists in the white man’s way. We protect the world by carrying out our clan responsibilities.”
Nora took hold of Heather’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Heather pulled loose. “I’m not going.” She raised her voice. “I belong here and I won’t let Big Elk ruin it.”
Big Elk’s shout rose above the mesa. “Lies from the rich white girl! This is foretold in prophesy and it’s our duty to stop you.”
“Now,” Nora said.
The clown’s calm drowned in Big Elk’s ranting. Of course the people listened to Big Elk. In their eyes, the money-chasing whites—that would be Nora and Heather—set out to destroy their sacred lands. They had lived and worshipped here for over a thousand years. The courts wouldn’t listen, the governments wouldn’t listen. Now frustration built to the breaking point.
Add a dance that was deeply rooted in religious significance, being on their own ground with their own people, and a talented instigator. This combination could lead people to forget their normal sensibilities, embrace the mob mentality and …
Kill Nora and Heather.
Big Elk continued to stir the pot. “We need to take extraordinary steps, like our grandfathers did when the white priests tried to ruin Hopi with their baptism. If we don’t, it will be like the time of Lololama, when they took our children to their white schools and tried to wipe us out. But we won’t let them this time.”
Nora grabbed Heather’s arm and tried to run.
Heather pulled back. “We’re responsible for the balance of the world. I can’t let this bastard ruin it all!”
Alex lurched forward and grabbed Heather around the waist. He jerked her backward, pulling her into himself and off her feet.
Heather’s arm wrenched from Nora’s grasp. “Heather!”
Alex backed into the growing crowd. They closed ranks and Heather disappeared. Two of the young men moved with purpose toward Nora.
29
“You shit!” Though Nora couldn’t see Heather, there was no mistaking her fury.
Nora lunged after Heather only to face a wall of Big Elk and his thugs. No way could she get through them. Rescuing Heather became impossible. Rescuing herself was up for grabs as well.
“You disrupted our sacred ceremony and brought evil to the mesa.” Big Elk’s words diced the air like a razor through flesh.
One young man pulled back like a ball in a pinball machine, ready to fly forward, grab Nora by the neck and draw her into the pack to be torn limb from limb.
She spun and shot away before he could spring.
Nora wove through the cars and bumped startled women, certain she outpaced the younger, stronger men by only a few steps.
She raced to the path, dodging rocks and pits, praying she didn’t slide off the side of the steep slope. Her legs stretched and she felt the impact of each footfall up her back. Her blood pounded, “Faster, faster.”
Shouts melted into a roar. Even though she ran past the vendors and crafts booths, no one tried to stop her. Nora dashed forward, not knowing where she headed.
Pot holes and ragged concrete made the road treacherous and she concentrated on each step to keep from landing on a rock or hole and crashing into the dirt. She dared not slow enough to look behind her but she heard feet pounding and heavy breathing. Any moment a hand would slam on her shoulder, grab her shirt and drag her to the ground.
Then what? They’d take her to the mesa ledge and toss her over to dash on the rocks below. Maybe Hopi believed in peace and hospitality, but some of Big Elk’s guys belonged to less friendly tribes. Her shattered death would bookend Scott’s.
Nora turned off the main road onto a path that narrowed into an alley between two stone houses. This part of the village looked as if it had grown from the desert of its own volition. Ancient, crumbling, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. She’d never be able to escape the thugs chasing her. No one in Hopi would help her. Nora’s last moments on this earth would be spent running for her life.
The dirt path of the alley t-boned and Nora ran to the right. The houses crumbled away until there was only a low wall on either side. The last turn proved to be a fatal mistake.
The walls ended. Nothingness lay beyond them. Nothing, except the edge of the mesa... and death. She faced the same fate as those priests four hundred years ago. Broken and bleeding under a culture they didn’t understand.
She ran on, hoping to see a path down the side of the mesa. Some escape. Sheer cliff wall dropped impossibly far to murderous rocks below. Like a cornered dog she turned to face her enemy. Panting and frantic for some way out, Nora could do nothing but watch them approach.
Two young men stopped about fifteen feet away. The taller one squinted at her. “Now where’re you gonna go?”
The other one, sweat dripping through the dust on his chest, said, “She’s goin’ down.”
“You insulted our Mother.”
They walked toward her. “You shouldn’t of messed with our peak.”
They blocked the path of retreat. The mesa formed a point and she stood at its apex, with nowhere to go but splattering on the rocks below. “This isn’t the 1600s. You guys will ruin your lives if you kill me.”
The tall one shrugged. “If we let you make snow, our kachinas will turn their backs on us. The lives of all the people will be ruined.”
The sweaty one took two quick steps, his arms up, ready to push her.
Nora swung to the side and he missed, losing his balance. He didn’t go down, but humiliation burned in his face.
He let out a growl and lunged for her.
Nora sidestepped but he wasn’t fooled again. He crouched like a football linebacker and moved with her. His hands connected with her shoulders.
She couldn’t scream. Could only understand that her life was over. Her body anticipated free fall. The painful crush of pointed rocks. Blood, broken, death.
But she didn’t fall backward. Strong hands on her back held her upright.
The man in front of her staggered backward as if she shoved him.
The little kachina salesman stepped from around her. He glared at the two younger men and spoke in a quiet voice. His Hopi words carried an obvious message of shame.
They paled. Stepped back. Lowered their eyes.
The little man barely moved his head but he made eye contact with Nora and in a gesture so slight she wasn’t sure he did anything, he indicated she needed to follow him.
Nora struggled to keep up with his sure-footed gait, especially when she kept turning around to see if the men chased them.
This little man must be a revered elder to have such an impact on the thugs. Maybe he could make Alex let Heather go.
The kachina man trotted around the last corner and pointed to Heather’s Rav4. Alex must have driven Heather out here in her car.
Heather paced in front, looking the opposite direction. Like warm honey, relief spread through Nora.
He nodded in dismissal.
Nora bowed her head, not sure how to express gratitude to him. “Thank you.”
He nodded again.
“What did you say to them?” she asked.
He spoke slowly, his words halting. “I said dis is not the Hopi way, to harm people. We are a people of peace.”
“That did it?”
“They are not Hopi. Navajo.”
“And they obeyed you anyway?”
He shrugged. “Our mother villages have mysterious powers to protect. If someone defies the power, we all suffer. Maybe all mankind.”
This guy should be president. He should be mediating in the Middle East. Such simple words and she wanted to spread peace and harmony throughout the world. She believed it could actually make a difference.
“Nora!” Heather ran toward her. “Where were you? What happened?”
Heather launched herself into Nora’s arms and exploded in a monsoon of tears.
With equal relief at Heather’s safety, Nora hugged back. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
But Nora couldn’t make sense of the sobs. Something about Heather’s embrace and tears tapped Nora’s heart like a tiny jeweler’s hammer. This girl with the courage of a lion owned the vulnerable heart of a child.
When was the last time someone had touched her with this much raw love? She’d suffered her mother’s dutiful hugs, the well wishes of Scott’s friends. She’d appreciated Charlie’s affectionate pats. But this girl cracked open the shell of her heart and it gushed with pain and loss, but also hope and healing.
Nora let loose with her own storm of tears, pulling Heather close.
30
Barrett’s Hopi contact leaned against the black Mercedes with his arms crossed. The shade of the juniper concealed the meeting from the Interstate but didn’t do much to buffer the roar of semis running down I-40.
Barrett had faced any manner of business problems in the past and overcome personal tragedy that would leave a lesser man a puddle of slush. But the last few years he had relaxed into complacency. He relied on the easy pickings of the energy boom and the domestic tranquility of a daughter that adored him.
All that changed in the last six months. His emotional and intellectual softness had to harden into granite again. He needed to be the Barrett McCreary III he used to be.
He gave the councilman a steady stare. “You said the Tribal Council was on board. They’ve got to know uranium mining will make the Hopi a rich tribe.”
The man shrugged. “Rich don’t always matter to Hopi. The elders don’t want nothing to do with mining after the sickness last time. But the younger ones, some of them want the electricity and water lines brought to the mesas.”
“Big Elk said he was making progress with the elders.” Scalding blood pumped into Barrett’s brain. Just the opposite of his cool-headed trade mark.
The cadence of the councilman’s voice sounded as if a drum beat in his head. “Benny, he’s against uranium and lots of guys listen to what he says. Big Elk ain’t convincing no one to go for uranium. He’s just gettin’ the younger ones mad.”
“Doesn’t matter now that Big Elk isn’t around anymore.”
“I don’t know who told you that. He’s out at the rez now. He’s got them so’s nobody’s even thinkin’ about uranium.”
Barrett had sprung Big Elk from jail and had hoped he’d hold up his end of the Hopi deal. He should have known Big Elk wouldn’t act with any honor. “What’s it going to take to change a couple of votes? Another clinic? A school? Untraceable cash? What does Benny want?” There was always a price and this one wouldn’t be cheap.
The Hopi man’s face showed little emotion. Indians hardly ever did. “I can ask but I don’t know how far I’ll get. The people are gettin’ pretty worked up now, with the government okayin’ the snow making and the woman layin’ pipe and all.”
“Get me the votes and you’ll be a rich man.”
Barrett slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes, leaving the Hopi man to his dilapidated pickup. He drove over the hill and out of the juniper.
The peaks commanded the landscape. His peaks. Barrett ticked through the issues needing his attention.
Deavonshire assured him the committee leaned toward allowing existing claims to go ahead. Barrett could start work on the current mines but that wouldn’t make major expansion possible. He needed the Hopi endorsement. Barrett shunted the uranium mining issue to the bottom of his agenda.
Big Elk had become too much of a liability. He punched in a number on his phone and when a low voice answered, Barrett gave the details.
Now, the next problem. Water had to be pumped onto the mountain immediately. More importantly, he needed to find and destroy Scott Abbott’s papers before someone figured out why.
He turned the Mercedes onto the highway and headed for the mountain.
Next. He had to check on Heather. Without looking, he took his phone from his shirt pocket, flipped it open and pushed speed dial for the house. No answer.
God damn it. When she’d called last night and said she was staying with her ditzy friend, Sheryl, she’d promised to be home early to clean horse stalls. This rebellion phase of hers had to stop.
Barrett simmered in a stew of problems, making phone calls to lobbyists and staffers the whole trip to Kachina Peak.
Sun sifted through the pines and dappled the hood of Barrett’s Mercedes. He pulled into Kachina Ski’s parking lot. Good, the decaying wreck of a Jeep was gone so he assumed the raving redhead wasn’t home.
He stepped out of the Mercedes and started toward the lodge, pasting on a pleasant face and formulating a plan of attack. He’d put off getting rid of Scott’s papers too long. He didn’t usually let loose ends dangle like this.
Maybe after the pumps were up and running here and he’d made a start on the uranium mines, he’d take Heather on an extended vacation. Get her away from everything Hopi.
His chest loosened slightly. Good plan.
He clumped up the deck stairs and into the lodge. “Hello.” He waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom.
No one answered him. He tried again. Silence.
Barrett knew a gift when he received it. He retreated, heading for the deck. Seemed strange Nora would keep Scott’s things. If it were him, he’d have sifted through the leavings looking for anything of value and destroy anything else. But women thought differently. Nora would probably cry over it for years.
Barrett planned to grab the box from the bedroom closet and reduce it into ashes within an hour. He reached for the screen door but it opened, startling him.
Abigail looked up and yelped. She sucked in a breath and let it out, a welcome spreading across her face. “Oh. Barrett. You scared me.”
Barrett met her smile, feeling that goofy balloon in his chest. What an exquisite woman. Her face glowed smooth as porcelain. Her eyes lit up with an enchanting sparkle. He felt foolish and delighted in a way he hadn’t felt in years--no, decades.
Right now, though, he needed to find Scott’s papers and get rid of them. “Abigail. It’s wonderful to see you.”
She gave him that inviting smile he longed to see in his bed. “It’s always nice to see you. What are you doing all the way out here?”
He stepped outside. “I wanted to see if the sprayers had been delivered. We’ve got a tight schedule if we want to have snow for Christmas.”
Abigail followed him. “You could have called. But no sprayers, it’s been quiet out here.”
She usually offered him something to eat or drink by now. What was the holdup? “Could I trouble you for a glass of water? I am really dry.”
“Of course. Come up.”
He followed her up the stairs, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips. His blood rushed to pleasant places. Yes, he’d have to find a way to keep Abigail.
Not an item seemed out of place in the little apartment. Abigail hurried to the kitchen. “I’m afraid we don’t have bottled water. Nora insists it’s environmentally abusive. But I made mint tea this morning.”
“That would be wonderful.” At least he didn’t sound as frantic as he felt.
She handed him the tea and he took a sip. “That’s great.”
She seemed pleased. “I picked the mint behind the lodge so I suppose it would pass Nora’s test for natural.”
“You aren’t having any?”
“I hate to fill up on too much tea. I’ll have to excuse myself all aftern
oon if I do.” The way she said it made him think she was trying to tell him something.
He noticed her handbag and a notebook sitting on the table. “I’m sorry. I should have asked sooner, are you on your way out?”
She smiled in that enticing way again. “It is my club afternoon. I’m secretary, which is funny, really, since I’m the newcomer. But I wanted to get involved in the community and this club does such good work.”
“Oh, I’ll get out of your hair.” Where was Nora?
She gestured toward the sofa. “Don’t be silly. Please sit and enjoy your tea. I’ve got a couple of minutes.”
She pushed him to sit and perched on the sofa arm, swinging her foot.
He started to get up. “I’m keeping you.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “You just sit. Finish your tea. But I do have to run downstairs and get something. I’ll be right back.”
Barrett couldn’t have written this. “Thank you, Abigail. You’re amazing.”
“Oh, you.” She giggled like someone thirty years younger and hurried out the door. He wanted her. No reason he couldn’t have her.
The door clicked shut and Barrett moved as quickly as his bulk allowed. He dumped the disgusting tea down the drain and returned his glass to the coffee table, only losing twenty seconds. Another couple ticked away as he hurried into the bedroom.
They lived like mice in a box. Abigail would love his spacious home with its open floor plan and towering windows, plenty of closets and cabinets to store all the pretty things he’d buy her.
Barrett opened the closet and plunged into the back where he and Heather placed that stupid box.
Gone! She’d moved it.
He spun, frantically searching the room. A filing cabinet shoved into a corner. What was stored inside? Did Scott keep copies? He ought to blow up the whole place to make sure there were no loose ends. This slum would be no big loss.
A memory blindsided him. He’d lived in more cramped quarters than this. It had been the happiest time of his life. Their bed was nothing but a mattress on the floor, the crib crammed next to the threadbare sofa. Fliers for the next rally sat on a Formica table. He stretched out on the rumpled sheets with his daughter sitting on his flat belly chattering about sister stars. Ester clattered the dented coffee pot and lit a match to the rusting stove. He loved to watch her naked body move with such fluid motion. His son made sucking noises from the crib.
The Nora Abbott Mystery series Box Set Page 18