As she heard Carolyn’s instructions, Rose’s legs nearly buckled. When the workman pried back a loose board with the shovel and she heard the creak of the wood, she shut her eyes tightly. A heartbeat later, the board broke loose with a thud—it was too rotten to really snap—then nothing.
No one said a word. Unable to stand the sudden, total silence, she opened her eyes and saw Carolyn and Michael crouched down beside the pine box. Rose stepped back, horrified, as Carolyn reached for something inside the container and pulled it out.
“This person was buried in what I think is a World War II Marine uniform,” Carolyn said thoughtfully. “And this dog tag,” she said, glancing down at what she was holding, “identifies the body as that of your Plant Watcher friend—the man we came here to bury today.”
Stunned, Rose stared at Carolyn as she handed the metal tag to her husband. “But that’s impossible.” She looked back at the inexpensive pine casket that contained Charlie’s body. “What in the world is going on here?” Rose looked at Carolyn, then Michael, and finally the Anglo man who’d uncovered the old grave, but no one had any answers.
SIXTEEN
Michael Lavery stood by his wife, still looking at the dog tag, a small rectangular piece of aluminum, which had a slender piece of frayed cord attached. “Soldiers usually wear two dog tags. Where the other one?”
Carolyn glanced inside the box again. “There’s only that one tag.”
“I know that in the military, at least the way it used to be, one tag was taken off by the burial detail for recordkeeping and the other was left on the body. Since this was no military burial, I would have expected both to still be there. One thing’s for sure, another Navajo would have never kept one of the dog tags as a memento.”
“I’ve known my friend for thirty years or more. How did the man buried in this grave get his dog tag?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to have to call the police,” Carolyn said. “By several feet at least, we’re still on tribal land, so that means Shiprock and tribal jurisdiction.”
Rose sat on a sandstone rock in the shade of Hogback, well away from the grave, as they waited. Charlie had wanted them to dig here. Finding the body had not been an accident. But she still had no idea what it all meant.
Carolyn cleared her throat and walked over to Rose. “There’s a patrolman being dispatched and he’ll be here shortly. Because I would have been called to this scene anyway, my husband and I are going to save time and take a closer look at the skeleton. We want to try to figure out if there’s any evidence concerning how he died. You might want to go for a small walk.”
“Yes, thank you.” Rose stood and walked away. Behind her, she could hear the men shoveling away the remaining dirt from around the box. With a shudder, she headed farther south toward the old trading post to wait.
Sometime later Carolyn came to meet her with the police officer who’d responded to the call, a man Rose recognized as Sergeant Joseph Neskahi. Rose stood up as they approached and braced herself.
“My husband and I checked the skeleton, but there’s no physical evidence to indicate he was murdered. The police chief has decided not to move the body from the grave it obviously has been in for decades, and a local judge concurred after a quick phone call. The general consensus is that we’ve found an unmarked grave dating back to the forties, and we should leave it alone.”
Rose nodded. “Put my friend’s coffin beside that one, then. This is where he asked to be buried, and I think we should respect that.”
Carolyn glanced at the man she’d hired for the burial and gave him a nod.
“But will you do one thing for me first?” Rose asked Carolyn. Without waiting, she added, “Fingerprint the man we came to bury, and send his prints to the FBI in Washington so they can compare them to his military records. I’d like to confirm who he really was, now that there is apparently some doubt.”
“I agree, otherwise we may have to dig the body up later anyway,” Neskahi said. Then, looking at Carolyn, he added, “Doctor, what do you say?”
Carolyn nodded. “Consider it done.”
Rose stood way back as Carolyn opened Charlie’s coffin, with the help of her husband, and completed the task. When the coffin was finally interred, alongside the decomposed body already there, Rose felt an undeniable sense of relief. It was now time to leave.
Thanking everyone for their help, Rose returned to her pickup and drove away. She would never return here again.
Rose decided to stop by her son’s hogan before she went home, though she had to pass by her house on the way. Even with the jish, she felt she needed something more to protect her now.
When Rose explained the circumstances to him, Clifford winced. “You were right to come back here first.”
Clifford sang a Song of Blessing over her, and as he did her worries lifted. She felt clean again. Had she been near the body of an enemy, Rose would have had a proper Sing, one that would have lasted over a week. But this and the jish would be enough for now.
Once she got home, Rose showered and changed. After having a light snack, she sat out on the porch to watch her granddaughter playing under the shade of an arbor made of tree branches.
The heat soon became uncomfortable, and Rose went back into the house. She’d just poured herself some iced tea when the phone rang.
It was the councilman who’d hired her. “This is John Begay. We’ve received a complaint concerning your survey work that we need to look into. We need to see what you’ve done so far.”
She knew that Curtis Largo had done as he’d said, telling Begay and other officials that her report wouldn’t meet their requirements. “I’ll have a preliminary draft ready for you tomorrow by ten in the morning.”
“That’ll will be fine. We’ll see you then.”
Rose immediately called Willie, first thanking him for speaking on her behalf at the chapter house meeting, then getting to the point. “I really need your help, Professor,” she explained. “If I could give them grids or coordinates that will specify a general area in the scientific terms they so love, I believe that would still satisfy them. Also, I’m going to need to indicate the scientific names for the plants, and more details, in scientific terms, about the soil conditions and terrain.”
“Come on over to my house right now. Bring everything, including any computer files you may have saved on floppy disks. We’ll get that report in tip-top shape in no time.”
She detected his confidence and enthusiasm, and knew that he would enjoy the challenge. “I really appreciate this, Willie.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Rose gathered the few photos, her many sketches, notes, and the maps she’d drawn, and a copy on diskette of her text files from Ella’s computer, then set out for Farmington.
When she arrived, the front door to his home was open, and hearing her truck, Kenmore pushed the screen door open and ran toward her, tail wagging. The mastiff’s powerful body looked too big to make a quick stop and Rose braced herself, her back against the truck. But Kenmore came to a dead stop just inches before her, and sat down, his tail wagging furiously. She didn’t have to lean down to pat his head, something that never failed to impress her. It was a very good thing that Kenmore was an agreeable dog.
Willie came out the door a moment later and laughed at the sight of her and the dog. “Don’t just stand there, come on in!” he greeted.
Willie led her into his den, and together at a large desk, they began to compile her notes and sketches into a formal presentation. Willie scanned her sketches onto his computer, then printed them out.
The final draft looked very professional, and Willie added a final touch by binding the approximately eighty pages in a special folder.
“I don’t know how to thank you for this, Professor. It looks wonderful, and gives them what they asked for without forcing me to violate any confidential information.”
“It should impress them—and shut them up, at least for a while,” Willie s
aid with a smile. “Now we should celebrate. Why don’t you stay and have dinner with me? I have some steaks we can put on the grill, and some fresh corn on the cob.”
She couldn’t say no, not after he’d spent most of his afternoon helping her. “Let me call home and tell them not to expect me, then I’ll be happy to join you.” Rose asked to use his phone, and was shown back into his den.
“I’ll be outside getting the grill started,” Willie yelled as he walked back into the kitchen.
Rose sat down at his desk, and as she spoke to Jennifer, the phone cord brushed against a paperback novel Willie was reading and knocked the book to the floor. As she discussed Dawn’s dinner, Rose picked it up, but a photo that had been tucked inside the book fell out. Rose reached for it next and saw that it was a Polaroid taken of Willie and Maria at a party.
She’d hung up and was studying the photo when Willie came in.
Seeing the photo in her hand, he asked, “Did that photo drop out of the book? I’ve been using it as a bookmark to remind myself to get a frame for it. It was taken at a birthday party a friend of mine threw for me a few months ago.”
“I know the woman,” Rose said.
“Ah, and you saw her with me at the chapter house meeting. Your tone suggests you don’t like her. Is that it?” he asked.
“It’s not a matter of liking or disliking, but there is tension between us because of our different philosophies.”
He nodded slowly. “Maria is a very bright young woman, though a bit too idealistic—a common ailment a lot of young people share. In time I think she’ll be a great asset to your tribe. Don’t underestimate her ability, or her intentions. All she needs is a few more years of experience and maturity.”
He placed the photo back in the inside flap of the book. “I came to ask you if you’d like your corn broiled over the coals or boiled.”
“Whichever way you prefer is fine,” Rose answered. There had been a strong undercurrent of emotion laced through his words when he’d spoken of Maria. Despite his clear, logical answer, she had a feeling that there was more going on between them than he was saying.
Rose joined Willie in the kitchen, and proceeded to make herself useful husking the corn while he marinated the steaks. Once the coals were ready in the barbecue, they went outside to the patio in the back. As they prepared dinner, Willie was uncharacteristically quiet. It was clear that something serious was weighing on him.
Twenty minutes later, when they sat down to eat, Rose realized that he’d cooked a small steak for Kenmore as well, a reward for the monstrous dog, who had rested on the grass the entire time, watching but not nosing the food. The dog seemed very happy.
“Kenmore’s reward isn’t entirely altruistic,” Willie explained, seeing her watching him as he placed the steak down inside a dog dish the size of a Dutch oven. “When he watches us eat, he’ll start to drool. Soon afterwards, he’ll shake—and after that, I guarantee, our appetites will be ruined. On the other hand, if he gets a steak now, he’ll eat and then lie down for a nap.”
“You certainly know your animal,” Rose said with a laugh.
Willie smiled. “I spoil him, but he’s my family, and he’s great company. I lived alone for many years after my wife died. Then I got Kenmore. These days I can’t imagine not having him around. A man couldn’t have a better buddy.”
“A pet can make a lot of difference. After my husband died, there was a period of time when I lived completely alone. My daughter came home several months later after she resigned from the FBI, but the days before she arrived were long ones for me. I’d never lived completely alone until then—not ever. Dog showed up at my door one dark night, and after that was my constant companion. Of course, Dog was a lot smaller than your Kenmore.”
They chatted amicably through dinner. Then, as they gathered up their plates and took them back inside, Willie’s mood grew somber.
“Recently I learned that the Plant Watcher who died just inside Arizona was a friend of yours,” he said.
She looked at Willie in surprise, wondering how he’d known and if he’d been a friend of Charlie’s. She nodded. “He was a dear friend.”
“At first I was told that the police had ruled what happened to him as an accidental death. Later, a friend of mine who does contract work for the tribe transporting bodies told me that an autopsy had been done. Do you know why?”
“It was necessary.”
“Why?” he pressed.
“Because I knew he’d been murdered,” she said, deciding to be completely honest. He deserved that from her after all the help he’d given her. “Now, thanks to the autopsy, we all know that the fall didn’t kill him—it was a heart attack, which may have been caused by the fall itself, or by being forced to the edge of the cliff where the ground was unstable.” She paused, then slowly added, “I’ve also managed to learn that an Anglo man was seen with him the day he died.”
Willie took a deep breath. “That Anglo could have been me. I went to see him to learn more about Navajo herbal medicine. I wanted to include the information in a book I’m writing. But I wasn’t the only one who came to see him that day. After I left, just as I got onto the main road, I saw a gas company truck heading out to his camp.”
“When you talked to him, did our friend mention that he was expecting company?”
“No, it was just the opposite, in fact. At one point I asked him what he planned to do that day and he said that he was going to stay out a bit longer and see if he could find some herbs he was looking for. He said that whenever he went out into the desert by himself, he was always at peace because he could almost feel the interconnectedness of everything. I remember him saying that in particular, because I mentioned the Global Consciousness Project being conducted by Princeton University and we got sidetracked discussing that for nearly another hour.”
“The what?”
He smiled. “It’s an experiment that’s found a way of measuring the concept that one mind interacts and combines with another and then another until there’s what they’ve called a global consciousness.” Willie paused and smiled. “It’s a fancy way of saying that all things are interconnected. Isn’t it funny how we’re all just beginning to discover what the Navajos have known since the beginning?”
Rose smiled. “We’ve gone from being labeled primitive and superstitious to being called insightful. Isn’t that always the case when people suddenly find that they agree with you? That must have amused him.”
“Yes, it did.”
Her thoughts back on Charlie, Rose continued. “Did you happen to get a good look at the driver of the gas company truck?”
“No, I didn’t. I just remembering catching a glimpse of it on my rearview mirror as it turned off where I’d just been.”
“So you can’t really say that the driver met with our friend—just that was heading in his direction when you last saw him?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“When you two were speaking, were you at the top of the bluff?”
“No, we were in the valley below.” He watched her for a long moment. “You know that a heart attack could have simply been caused by his age, maybe exertion from climbing onto the bluff, and the fall was subsequent to it,” he said gently. “It doesn’t have to be murder.”
“But it is,” she said simply. “And I will prove it.”
The following morning, as Rose was getting dressed for her meeting with John Begay and the other tribal officials, Ella came into the bedroom and greeted her mother with a Cheshire-cat smile.
“Hey, Mom, what’s this I hear? You’ve got another boyfriend? And a professor, no less! I need to start learning your tactics. I’ve yet to find one guy to go out with regularly, and now you’ve got two.”
“You’re being impertinent,” she said with a tiny smile.
“Fess up, Mom.”
“You may get more of an answer than you wish,” she said, deliberately teasing her daughter’s imagination.
Ella stared a
t her, surprised. “You can’t stop there!”
Rose laughed. “There’s nothing between Professor Hoff—Willie—and me. I stayed for dinner because he said he had something to discuss.” Rose told Ella what she’d learned and watched her frown.
“Mom, I don’t like this. If what you suspect is true, you’re going to stir up a hornets’ nest.”
“Maybe so, but I have no other choice.”
“Let me look into it.”
“Other officers are already involved. You don’t need to take on more responsibilities—you’ve got enough to do already.”
“Yes, but I can find the time to—”
Rose shook her head. “Whatever extra time you can find, you need to spend with your daughter.” She met Ella’s gaze and held it. “If I need your help, I’ll let you know. Until then, we’ll do what we are each called upon to do for the tribe.”
“But Mom, I—”
Rose held up one hand. “You seem to think of me as someone you have to take care of, but I’m not. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. Why is it that you trust me to take care of your daughter, but not to take care of myself? That, daughter, doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“Mom, I know you’re a fighter and that you have a bright mind, but you’re going into territory you’re not familiar with. When you pursue a criminal, or start digging up secrets others want to keep covered, trouble comes at you from every corner.”
“Daughter,” Rose finished putting up her grayish black hair into a bun. “I intend to be careful. But if someone caused my friend’s heart attack, I will find out about it.”
“Do you realize that, even if you do, you may never be able to prove it in a way that will lead to a prosecution? You might get sued, that’s all.”
Rose smiled. “I’m not as concerned with the Anglo system of justice as you are. To expose a killer in our midst will restore balance in a way that goes beyond Anglo justice. And if he’s a member of our tribe, it will be even more so.”
Plant Them Deep Page 19