Plant Them Deep

by Thurlo, Aimée

  “You’ll have it!” Rose announced, then stood and thanked her daughter. She left the police station filled with purpose, and using the pay phone outside, called Bizaadii using the cell phone number he’d given her earlier.

  “I need to borrow something from you. Where are you now?” she asked.

  “I’m home. Curtis went home and settled down for the night watching TV, at least that’s what it sounded like from outside, so we figured we’d go home too. What do you need?”

  “You know those fancy binoculars that you use on those trips into the mountains? I’d like to borrow them for a few hours.”

  “Okay. Come on over.”

  Rose arrived twenty minutes later. Herman came out of the house, the binoculars around his neck. Before she could say anything, he opened the passenger door to the truck and slipped onto the seat. “Where are we going?”

  Rose was speechless. She’d wanted to do this alone. Herman tended to be too cautious and she was prepared to take whatever chances were necessary to accomplish what she needed to do. She cleared her throat, then whispered, “You don’t want to be involved in this.”

  Herman’s reply was definitely not in a whisper. “I’m already involved, old woman. I spent the entire afternoon following Curtis Largo. He’s such a disagreeable man, and he seems to spend far more time visiting friends than working. I wasted all that time, and got absolutely nothing except bored. He’s supposed to be an expert on plants, but even his yard is a disaster. There’s no garden there—just tumbleweeds and two brown, withered ponderosa pines that probably never received another drop of water from the time they were planted.” He fastened his seat belt. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

  Rose didn’t argue. There was no time. She needed to make sure she had enough daylight to do what she had to do, and the sun was already low in the sky. It would be setting within the hour.

  “What are we after?” he said.

  “I need to find out if Knight has a greenhouse or a garden for native herbs in the back of his property.” She filled him in on what Sadie had found. “If he’s the thief, it’s very possible he’s doing research for a big corporation using plants stolen from the Navajo Nation. That would explain why he’s been digging up so many of them. But he may also be innocent. The first step in finding out the truth is to see what’s in his back yard in the middle of that apple orchard. If he’s our man, that’s where I think the plants will be.”

  “If he catches you, he’ll charge you with trespassing, harassment, stalking, or worse.”

  Rose laughed. “Stalking? I can just see my daughter’s face. Imagine me stalking anyone. That alone makes the risk more than worth it.”

  “Your loyalty to Lena may get you in a great deal of trouble, woman,” he muttered, then added, “which won’t help her, by the way.”

  “This isn’t just about Lena. It’s also about my other friend who died searching for the Plant People.”

  “Then we’ll do it together.”

  “But even if Knight’s guilty, we could both end up in jail unless we can prove it. Are you sure you want to help me?”

  “Yes. This is something I have to do as well for the same reasons you mentioned. My nephews may not understand my decision, particularly if we end up in trouble, but we can’t turn back now.”

  “All right, then,” Rose said. The truth was that she was glad to have his company. She valued Herman’s friendship, though it was very different from what she shared with Lena. As women who’d known each other for a lifetime, they’d talk about anything and everything whenever they got together, but talking to Herman wasn’t as easy.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She decided not to answer his question, and subtly changed the subject instead. “I just can’t believe how critically important it has become for us to find just one ‘white at night’ plant. This thief has to be stopped.”

  He nodded, deep in thought. “It’ll happen.”

  A short time later they arrived at the top of a high levee that extended for miles along the south side of the San Juan River, which ran through Farmington. They drove along the dirt road until they found a spot where they could see Knight’s home on the floodplain just below, less than a few hundred yards away. Rose walked over close to the edge, then asked Herman for his binoculars.

  He handed them to her and Rose focused on Knight’s property. But there were too many apple trees obscuring her view. All they could see was the roof of the house beyond the orchard, and the glow from the lights of the outbuilding.

  “If it was winter, I could probably see pretty well, but there are just too many leaves and branches in the way. I’m going to go in closer,” she said.

  “Let me have a look first,” he said, taking the binoculars back. After a few minutes, he lowered the binoculars. “You’re right, but we can’t get any closer without going onto his land. It’s too risky. What if he’s home? There are lights coming from the outbuilding, obviously.”

  “I’ll be careful and stay hidden as much as possible.”

  “No, I’ll do it,” Herman said, and started down the levee on a narrow trail before she could argue.

  Rose followed him, refusing to be deterred. Once they got onto Knight’s land, she knew she could sneak from tree to tree quieter than any man.

  Herman slipped underneath the fence where a drainage ditch exited the property, then went to the closest apple tree and hid behind the trunk. Rose stayed a few feet behind him and, once she was in the orchard, caught a glimpse of a huge low building in the center of the rows of trees.

  The roof was glowing, but suddenly darkened. Then she saw light as a door on the end of the building door opened and shut. She came up behind Herman, who was looking toward the building from his hiding place. “Stay back. We’ll get caught,” he whispered harshly.

  “Shhh.” Rose took his binoculars, then used the tree trunk to hold them steady as she looked. “It’s a greenhouse,” she whispered. “The building is low, with a clear plastic or glass roof. That glow we saw earlier was from the plant lights, I’ll bet. I have to figure out a way to get in there.”

  “No way. It’s almost dark now.”

  “Precisely.”

  “What are you going to do, pick the lock on the door, or break a window and climb in? He’s home, or someone is. The door just opened and closed. We can’t go in there.”

  “Sure we can. The greenhouse lights are out, which means he’s gone elsewhere, probably to the house. We just need something that will distract him while I search the greenhouse.”

  “No. You’d be taking too great a risk for what you could get out of it. Even if you got in and were able to assure your daughter that there are plants there just like the ones that are missing from the reservation, that’s still not proof of anything. He could easily claim that he’d gotten the plants while off Navajo land. Meanwhile, you trespassed and broke into his greenhouse.”

  “You’re right,” Rose said, crestfallen. “But if he has ‘white at night,’ I could take one of them and give the plant to my son.”

  He shook his head. “You won’t be able to do anything at all, or be of any use to your friend, if you get caught and land in jail. And for all you know, he has alarms around that greenhouse, or even traps. People who have something to hide usually go to great lengths to protect themselves, and aren’t worried about being legal or illegal.”

  Rose mulled things over. “What we really need is to catch him digging up plants on the Rez. I bet he goes out at dusk. He spots the plants during the day while conducting legal business, then comes back and digs them up at night when most of us are asleep. Working in the dark would explain why he damages so many plants trying to remove them.”

  “That makes sense, but what can be done?”

  “We need a video camera that can operate on low light.”

  “A high school teacher friend of mine has one. I think he bought it while studying bat populations along the river for some state agency last
summer. At least that’s what one of my nephews told me. He’ll lend it to us, I’m sure.”

  “How long will it take you?”

  “I’ll call him now on the cell phone, and if he says yes, then we can go pick it up.” Herman dialed and spoke to his friend. After a minute, he hung up and glanced over at her. “We can pick it up anytime.”

  She considered it. “I’d really like to go check in on Lena before we set out. I want to make sure she holds on. How long will it take you to go get the camera and bring it back?”

  “An hour.”

  “Then you can do that while I check in with my friend.”

  Rose drove to her home and dropped Herman off by his truck. As she pulled to a stop, her thoughts circled around the one piece of the puzzle that still didn’t seem to fit. “There’s one thing I sure wish I could figure out,” she said. “People have reported seeing a gas company truck driving around in places where there isn’t any gas service, and when they tried to approach, the truck drove away. That’s got to be connected to the thefts, but how?”

  Herman shrugged. “It might be totally unrelated.”

  “My feelings tell me different. But I guess that’s not the most important thing to worry about now. My son needs that plant, and he needs it soon.”

  As soon as Herman drove off, Rose headed to the hospital. She intended to make sure Lena knew she was always first in her thoughts.

  Upon her arrival Rose walked directly to Lena’s room. The good-luck plant she’d given her was beside the bed, along with other flowers, candy, and gifts from relatives, judging from the cards. Seeing that Lena’s eyes were closed, Rose decided to leave a note, but before she could reach for a pad and pen, Lena’s eyes opened.

  Seeing Rose, Lena smiled wearily.

  “You look better,” Rose said, noticing that the pallor on her skin didn’t seem so pronounced tonight. Maybe her friend was regaining her health even without the ritual.

  Lena opened her hand slowly, and nestled in her palm was Ella’s badger fetish. “Your daughter stopped by and said I should keep it for now. She said it would help me fight.”

  “And it will,” Rose said softly, thanking Ella in the silence of her thoughts. “Its power has saved my daughter more than once. You hold on to the strength it gives you.”

  As Lena closed her eyes again, Rose tiptoed out of the room.

  Rose and Herman met earlier than planned. He had insisted on driving now that the last remnants of daylight had given way to the night, and they were now parked beneath the overhanging branches of a cottonwood tree just down the street from Knight’s home. The streetlight outside the driveway leading onto his property made it easy for them to keep an eye on the place.

  “So now we wait?” Herman asked.

  She nodded. “If I’m right, he’ll wait until well after dark, then set out to harvest the plants he’s already decided to collect tonight.”

  An hour passed slowly. Reaching into her large purse, she pulled out two burritos. “One is made with chicken, the other with mutton. They’ve also got plenty of beans, cheese, and salsa. They’re cold, but the green chile will warm you up.”

  “Great, I was starving. Thanks!” He gestured ahead. “His porch light just went out.” Herman set down the binoculars. “From the looks of it, he’s not getting ready to go anytime soon.”

  “Do you think it’s possible he spotted us down here?”

  “I’m sure he hasn’t. He hasn’t come to peer out his windows or anything like that.”

  While Herman ate first, Rose used the binoculars to keep her eyes on Knight’s car, parked close to the house. Time passed slowly. After an eternity of waiting, Rose suddenly spotted movement. “He just came outside. Get ready.”

  Herman reached for the ignition, planning on starting his own truck after Knight had already put his vehicle in motion. But Knight, wearing some kind of uniform now, walked past his truck and headed toward a small, detached garage.

  Rose’s heart fell. Maybe she’d been wrong about him, unless he had another car they’d never seen before.

  “Why doesn’t he use his truck? It’s perfect for reservation travel,” Herman mumbled.

  Rose, who had not taken her eyes off Knight, added, “I have a hunch what’s in the garage.”

  “Ah, right. Another vehicle that doesn’t say ‘I’m Bradford Knight’s truck,’ perhaps?”

  When Knight drove out of the garage in the white gas company truck, a cold chill raced up her spine. Before she could comment, Knight pulled out of his driveway onto the street. The lights on his phony utility truck were still off.

  Rose and Herman ducked down as he drove past them, then they both looked up. Halfway down the block, Knight finally turned on his headlights.

  “You’re too far behind. We’re going to lose him,” Rose said as Herman started his pickup’s engine.

  “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. There’s no other traffic right now on this stretch and that’s why we have to hang back. He’s going to see our headlights in his rearview mirror as it is.”

  They followed as Knight turned and headed west. Knight continued on for nearly ten minutes before crossing the San Juan River and traveling south down Highway 371. The state highway roughly paralleled the eastern edge of the Navajo Nation for miles.

  Once they passed the popular recreation site known as the Dunes, Knight took a dirt road to the right, crossing a natural gas pipeline, then entering Navajo land near Amarillo Canyon. The gas company truck left a plume of dust in the air, eerily visible in the moonlight.

  “Slow down, or he’ll see the dust trail that we leave behind as clearly as we see his,” Rose said.

  Herman nodded. “I think the dust he’s throwing up would hide our presence as long as he goes straight, but he might see us if he makes a sharp turn to either side. I’ll stay back a bit farther, just in case.”

  They remained on his trail for another thirty minutes. The moon, full and bright, lit their way, and even without Knight’s headlights and taillights, the white color of the truck was distinctive. Meanwhile, she knew from experience that Herman’s green pickup only faded into the darkness, looking like a medium-gray shadow in the limited light. Finally the trail of dust settled, the head- and taillights they’d been watching disappeared, letting them know that he’d parked.

  Herman got as close as he dared, then pulled off the road behind an eroded sandstone formation that, in the dark, looked like a scoop of half-melted ice cream.

  “We’ll have to go on foot from here. Otherwise he might hear the engine,” Herman said.

  “Grab the low-light camera and let’s go,” Rose answered.

  “I’ve used this kind of camera before, so I’ll climb up just below the crest of that hill and use the zoom lens once I spot where he’s gone.”

  Rose nodded. “While you do that, I’ll go alongside the road, staying behind cover. I want to see for myself what he’s digging up this time.”

  “What if he has a night job for the natural gas company, maybe as a night watchman or something like that?” Herman whispered.

  “Then he shouldn’t be out here, should he?” Rose replied. “He’s guilty. I have no doubt about that now. All that gas company stuff is just a disguise.”

  “Just be careful,” Herman whispered.

  Rose moved silently through the brush, stopping often to wait and listen. Once she located Knight, she’d find out what he was after, then back away. She didn’t want to confront a man who was most likely a killer.

  As Rose drew near, she heard a soft thump, and saw Knight chopping at the hard ground with what looked like a small pick. Moving closer, she recognized it as a GI entrenching tool, with the blade turned to a ninety-degree angle. Still needing to find out which plant was being uprooted, she went a few steps closer, hiding behind a juniper, and crouched low. Knight had found several “baby newborn” and, from the gunnysacks behind him, had already dug up at least half a dozen of the healthiest plants. A few had been cut
by his careless strokes—he wasn’t using a lantern to see—and they were scattered on the ground where he’d thrown them.

  A sense of outrage filled her, but she crept back to the truck, following the plan. Moments later, Herman joined her.

  “He’s our man, down to the GI shovel,” Herman said. “I’ve got it all on tape, but I’m not sure how clear his face will be. The magnification was good, so the image was large enough, but the angle wasn’t right. The juniper on that rise above him cast shadows on his face. My guess is that the image will come out distorted.”

  “He may be going someplace else now,” Rose said, pointing. “You’ll have another chance.”

  Knight went back to the truck and loaded up the plants after sprinkling the gunnysacks with water from a big jug. Then he picked up three orange cones placed around the vehicle, and tossed them into the truck bed. Herman filmed the activity, and made sure he got the license number of the truck.

  Rose glanced over at Herman. “We have a shot of him digging up the plants, and another of him loading the plants into his truck. His face may not be perfectly clear, but there are two of us to testify that it was him, and that he was on Navajo land at the time. If the truck is a phony, the natural gas company will probably have a criminal complaint of their own to make too. But that will come later. What we need to do now is take advantage of the fact he’s not at home and go back there and take a look inside his greenhouse. Maybe we can find something that will connect him to our murdered friend.”

  “You’d have to break in, and that’s against the law.”

  “Either way, I’m going.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  By the time they returned to Knight’s neighborhood and their parking spot beneath the cottonwood, all the lights inside the area residences were off except for a few porch lights. Rose headed along the fence line of Knight’s home, working her way toward the back, with Herman right beside her. It took a few minutes, but they found the gap under the fence they’d used earlier, and slipped beneath it into the orchard.