“I remember you, young lady,” he said, chuckling as he glanced at Sadie. “Are you lost again?”
Sadie laughed. “No, this time I came on purpose.”
He shifted his gaze to Rose. “I know you, of course, and your children. Are you in search of plants?”
“Yes, I am. And information too.”
“Maybe I can help with both.”
She told him about Charlie Dodge, not mentioning his name specifically, but she knew from his expression that he’d already heard.
“My daughter told me about his passing. I was sad to hear the news. I saw him just a few days before his death when he came here to the New Mexico side searching for plants. He said that he was working with you to locate some of the Plant People who had moved away.”
“That is so,” Rose answered. His English was surprisingly good. The elderly didn’t always speak the language of the Anglos.
“But there’s no ‘salt thin’ or ‘frog tobacco’ here,” he told her. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
“Right now I need to find ‘white at night.’ I believe it used to grow in these parts.”
He nodded. “It does still—or it did until someone came and dug up most of the plants I knew about.”
“Did you happen to find strange shovel marks on the ground?”
He nodded. “You mean the holes made by a little pointed digging tool?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “I recognized the pattern it made on the ground because I used a GI shovel back during my days in the Marines. It seemed like all we did was dig foxholes and trenches,” he recalled.
“Did he take all the ‘white at night’ plants?”
“No, there are still some young plants left, and a few old, weak ones.”
As they walked up the canyon together, looking at the few plants along the inside curve of the dry channels, Rose glanced over at him. “I’ve been trying to find someone who knew our Plant Watcher friend when he was young, way back before the war. Did you, by any chance?”
“He always said that I was one of the few people who’d known both him and his brother, but if I ever did meet his brother, I don’t remember it.”
“Did he ever speak to you about his brother?” Rose asked. This was the first time anyone had even referred to Gilbert Dodge.
“Only rarely. His brother died in an accident and it was painful for our friend to talk about him because they’d been very close.”
“Did he ever speak of his parents?”
“All he ever said to me was that his mother and father died while he and his brother were still young and the years that followed were hard for both of them. They went hungry a lot of time until he joined the Marines. His pay kept both of them going.”
Rose looked at him thoughtfully, a new picture emerging in her head. Maybe the body in the grave was Charlie’s brother. But if that were the case, why had Charlie put one of his dog tags and his Marine uniform on him when he was buried? Had it been a way of honoring his little brother’s wishes? Charlie had said that his brother had died in an accident. If he’d felt responsible somehow … Or maybe it had been an attempt at a deception of some kind.
Rose sighed. Yet none of it explained why someone had killed the man she’d known as Charlie, or told her if his death had been connected to the plant thief.
As they reached an area where another arroyo joined the main channel, Ha’asídí stopped. “‘White at night’ grew here,” he said sadly. “But whoever dug up the other plants must have come back to take what was left.”
Rose saw all the pointed shovel marks on the ground. “The thief must have learned the hard way that ‘white at night’ doesn’t transplant well. And now there are none.” Rose thought of Lena and felt anger swell inside her. She would find the plant her son needed for the ritual if she had to walk every inch of land between the Sacred Mountains.
TWENTY
Hours later, alone again, Rose drove to Willie’s home. The situation was critical, and she still had no idea where to find “white at night.” Maybe if they combined their knowledge of the plants and the area, they’d be able to figure something out.
Rose parked in front of the professor’s house and saw Maria Poyer coming out the door. Uncertain, Rose hesitated to get out of the pickup, but Willie, who was standing in the doorway, saw her and waved at her to come in.
“I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted something, Willie,” she said, joining them, “but I have a serious situation and I could use some help.” Rose turned to Maria. “Yours too, if you’re willing to give it.”
“You want my help?” Maria asked, surprised.
“Come in, then, both of you. Let’s talk,” Willie said.
He led them back into the living room and Rose waited until everyone was seated, included Kenmore, who’d come out of the kitchen, his mouth still dripping from the water he’d been drinking.
“I have a problem and I’m really not sure what to do next,” Rose said, and explained about Lena’s illness for Maria’s sake, and the need for the specific plant in a healing ceremony.
Maria nodded gravely. “I knew that some of our people believe strongly in the power of the Plant People to cure, but I never realized their reliance on them could produce a situation like this.”
“The Holy People gave us the Plant People and taught us how to use them when we become sick. They have to be collected in a certain way, special prayers have to be said over them, and specific methods are used to prepare them. They’re our medicine. You may choose to believe in another way, but it doesn’t make our way less effective or worthwhile.”
“Mrs. Destea is making a very important point here, Maria. You already know that a lot of medicinal compounds are derived from plants, such as quinine, codine, digitoxin—used to make digitalis—and salicin.”
Maria nodded. “Salicin comes from the bark of certain willows, and inspired the development of aspirin. I’m not dismissing the value of certain plants, or denying that there are probably others around we don’t know about yet.”
“But it’s more than that. Maybe it’s because you’re not looking at it from the same perspective as the patient,” Willie said. “In recent years, medical science has come to accept the fact that a patient’s mental attitude can affect the course and effectiveness of treatment, sometimes critically so. This has led to other studies which seem to demonstrate that when a patient is prayed for, their recovery rate improves and at times there’s a complete reversal of the condition. Medicine men function as the tribe’s healers and clerics. Theological arguments aside, there’s little difference between what the traditionalists believe and what the Anglo world is just starting to accept.”
Maria nodded slowly, then met Rose’s gaze. “I may never end up going to a medicine man myself, but I’ve never been against herbal remedies or what might be called psychological help, especially when someone’s health is at stake. If you want my help finding this plant, you’ve got it, but I don’t even know where to start looking.”
“Once we decide what conditions are needed for the growth of this plant, we can select locations to search,” Willie said, leading the way to the den. “We can rule out those places already surveyed, and divide up the remaining potential sites. We can’t expect to cover them all, because it’s only the three of us, but by deciding on a plan, we can guarantee no effort will be wasted.”
By the time they finished, Rose felt more positive than she had in a long time.
“If we find a healthy plant, do you want us to dig it up?” Willie asked her.
“Yes, but be careful that you don’t damage the roots. This plant has to be preserved, pollen sprinkled on its roots, and then replanted.”
As they got ready to leave, Rose noticed that Maria seemed much more reasonable now that she understood that something immediate and crucial was at stake for a real person, not just a concept. Her positive response to a crisis was comforting to Rose. Maybe someday they’d work together for the land and The People.
“I’m glad she’s helping us,” Rose said as Maria drove off in her truck.
“She’s a bright young woman, but Maria sometimes has difficulties listening and accepting ideas other than her own because her ego gets in the way. You’ve helped her open her mind to compromise and cooperation between cultures that are a hundred years apart, and that’s going to make her an even better scientist. But she still has a ways to go and she can be quite stubborn.”
Rose nodded. “Has Maria been able to continue any of her work? If she maintains certain safeguards, I think her work could be a benefit to the tribe. But I know she needs funding. All that research and development won’t pay off until she has something to sell or market.”
“She’s had to put her work on hold for now. I have a few contacts, and have managed to get matching funds for her out of a special state program, but to make it work, she still needed to have the tribe put up half the money. That was a roadblock I couldn’t surmount, and neither could she.”
“You’ve helped me, so I’ll see what I can do. I know Maria’s important to you. She has your smile, and your cheekbones too.”
Willie met her gaze. “You’ve already figured things out, I see.” Seeing her nod, he continued. “Maria doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Rose nodded. “I understand.”
“I know that it would be possible to find out for sure if she’s my daughter through DNA testing. I just don’t think it’s fair to turn her world upside down that way. But in my heart, I believe she’s my daughter, so I’ll do whatever I can for her.”
Rose returned to her truck, lost in thought. She would go by Kevin Tolino’s office first. It was on her way anyway. If anyone could help Maria get matching funds, it would be him.
Rose arrived at Kevin’s office a little more than a half hour later. He was alone, working on his computer.
Seeing her, Kevin smiled, stood, and invited her to take a seat. “What can I do for you?”
Rose told him about her problem finding the right plant for Lena and how Maria Poyer was now working with her in the search. “But it’s not fair that the money the tribe is paying me to do the survey is taking away her chance to continue her research. The state has promised to match whatever funds the tribe puts up. Surely there’s some money somewhere that the tribe can offer her. She can have the money my friend left me too, though it’s not much.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kevin said with a tiny smile. “But I doubt it would amount to any substantial funding.”
“Do your best. The way things are going, someday we may have to rely on her plants,” Rose said, standing up.
“Is the situation that bad?”
Rose nodded slowly. “Yes, at least for a few species. And now a life is at stake.”
Rose made plans to spend the afternoon searching the area that Willie had mapped off specifically for her. Although she’d wanted to take someone along, Sadie was in class, and no one else was readily available.
She was traveling down the highway when she saw the flashing lights of a police unit behind her. Curious, Rose pulled over, and a moment later Ella jogged up to her.
“Hey, Mom! Where are you off to? I got off work early today, but it turns out Dawn’s at a birthday party. If you’re working on something interesting, can I tag along?”
Rose knew that despite Ella’s casual tone, her daughter was worried about her. “You’ll be bored. I’m off to search for ‘white at night.’”
“Great. I’ll help. I know I’ve disappointed you by not being able to take part in Plant Watcher work like I intended to a few years ago, but I’d still like to learn when I have time,” Ella said. “Since we’re not far from home, let’s stop by so I can leave my patrol unit there, then I can ride with you.”
Twenty minutes later they were under way in Rose’s truck. Ella had come armed, something that Rose found disturbing, though she knew her daughter was always on call and was required to carry a weapon. But collecting plants was prayerful work and the presence of a gun was jarring. “Do you really think you’ll need your pistol? Maybe you should leave it in the truck.”
“I can’t do that,” Ella said simply. “It wouldn’t be a good idea for a variety of reasons, including department policy.” Ella paused, then switched the subject abruptly, a sure sign that she considered the matter closed. “So tell me what you’ve learned about the death of your friend the Code Talker. Have you found out anything new?”
Rose filled her in, and told her about the dog tag for Charlie Dodge she’d found in his home. “There’s one thought that bothers me a great deal. I can’t help but wonder if my friend killed his brother somehow—accidentally, of course—and buried him there. The uniform might have been a way of pleasing a little brother who’d always wanted to be just like his big brother.”
“Maybe, but if that’s what really happened back then, I can understand why he would have wanted to keep it a secret. He would have been ostracized by everyone, even if it had been proven to be an accident. Killing a close relative is one of the ways a skin … an evil one,” she said correcting herself quickly, “gets his power. No one would have trusted him.”
“You do well not to use the word and risk calling them to you,” Rose said. Speaking of skinwalkers was always dangerous.
Ella nodded, then continued. “The brother that took on the identity of the other may have been forced to do so in order to survive,” Ella said. “Of course, if it was a murder, one committed during an argument, let’s say, then that puts the matter in a completely different light.”
Rose shuddered. “I have to know the truth. And I also need to learn how and why my friend was killed.”
“Mom, you don’t know that he was. He fell off a cliff after having a heart attack, remember?”
Rose gave her a steady look.
“Okay—you’re sure he was murdered—but that’s not enough in a court of law. How are you going to prove anything?”
“First, I have to uncover the truth. After I do that, we’ll see what needs to be done to put the one responsible in jail.”
Ella took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mom, when you investigate something like this, the answers you find aren’t always what you expected or wanted.”
Rose nodded, knowing exactly what Ella meant. “My friend might have been guilty of a crime that resulted in his burying his own brother in a secret grave. That’s true. But I have to know.”
“I wish I could help you officially, but even if he killed his brother, the police still have no reason to investigate, because the killer and his victim are both dead.”
“That’s all right. I’ll handle it my own way, but I’m seeing this through to the end. I have no other choice. If my friend was killed because of his knowledge of the Plant People—or, more to the point, because I asked him to help me locate certain plant communities—then I have a debt to repay, and this is the only way I can do that.”
“Mom, think this through carefully. If your friend was forced off a cliff, then the killer got away with murder. But now you come along and become a threat to him.”
“I know where you’re heading. You don’t have to spell it out for me. But it doesn’t change anything. If you want to help me, then find out who broke into our home.”
Ella’s face grew hard. “I’ve tried. I checked everyone on the list you gave me. Without prints, I’ve got nothing, but I questioned all the suspects. None of them had really solid alibis for the second break-in, so I couldn’t rule anyone out.” Ella paused for a moment, then added, “Do think that ties in to the death of the Code Talker?”
“I’m not ruling out the possibility.”
Ella nodded. “Spoken like a cop.”
“My daughter’s a great detective,” Rose said. “I’ve learned from her over the years.”
Rose and Ella spent the next several hours searching for “white at night” along the arroyos and intermittent streams in her designated area, but it was all to n
o avail.
“We have to find it,” Rose said, stopping to rest atop an old sun-bleached, half-buried cottonwood limb that had been washed away after breaking off the tree. “I can’t stand the thought of Lena …”
“I know, Mom. We’ll find the plant.”
Yet, after three more hours of fruitless searching had passed, they still had nothing. Ella convinced Rose that it was time for them to head home. “Maybe the others found a place where some are growing. You never can tell,” Ella said as they returned to the truck.
Rose shook her head. “No. They haven’t found anything. I can feel it here,” she said, pointing to her heart.
Ella gazed thoughtfully off into the distance. “We’ve looked where it’s supposed to be,” she said. “How about if we start looking in places where it’s not supposed to be?”
Rose smiled sadly. “That works well with police work, but not so much with the Plant People. They come from seeds, or roots from the parent plants, and require certain specific conditions.”
As they reached the main highway, Ella glanced toward Pastora Peak, way over in Arizona. “Mom, do you remember the old grocery store and gas station that used to be just this side of the Arizona state line when I was a kid? Off the highway near Beclabito?”
Rose nodded. “It was a trading post before that. Everyone used to stop there to talk and catch up on the news while they bought sodas, snacks, or gasoline. But it closed down after they built the new place on the highway … at least I think it did.” She paused, then added, “I haven’t been there in years—since your father stopped having those church revivals all over the reservation.”
“Let’s go check it out. If anyone is still around there, they might be able to give you a clue that will help you figure out who your Plant Watcher friend really was. He lived in that area all his life.”
It took them a while to find the turnoff because of highway construction. “I don’t think anyone’s come up this way in ages,” Rose said.
As they drove up the winding road, which led through red sandstone canyons dotted with piñons and junipers, Rose searched her memory. “I remember that Jerry and Cammy Hatcher ran the place. Jerry was an Anglo, and Cammy a Navajo from Many Farms. I think they both passed away several years back, but I remember that they had a daughter a few years older than I was. They named her Merline.”
Plant Them Deep Page 24