Plant Them Deep

by Thurlo, Aimée

  Together, they walked quickly through the orchard and up to the large greenhouse. Discovering that the door had no lock, she opened it and went inside, Herman a step behind her. It was warm and not overly humid, what she’d expected from a greenhouse specializing in desert plants rather than, say, orchids. There were no overhead plant lights on now, only a few fluorescent bulbs placed near the floor that would enable Knight to move around without turning on the main lighting.

  The first room, apparently, was where plants were being developed from cuttings or grafts. Most were so immature it was difficult to identify them, but she recognized a few as plants from her list of endangered species. Labels were placed on the pots, using code numbers and dates. Many pots were encased in plastic bags and had overhead light fixtures. None of the lights were turned on at the moment.

  As they entered the second room through a large but open doorway, she saw it was crowded with four rows of waist-high planters lined up like school cafeteria tables. Like in the first room the lighting was dim, but it was easy to see now that her eyes had adjusted. There were hundreds of individually potted plants native to the reservation—some she recognized immediately as species that the Dineh were having a lot of trouble finding. On each pot was a computer-printed label with a code number, date, and location where they’d been found. Looking quickly, she saw that they all appeared to be sites on the Navajo Nation.

  Rose turned to tell Herman to videotape everything, but saw that he was already doing so. As the camera whirred softly, Rose walked down the long rows, searching for “white at night.” In a row of large plastic pots near one corner she found several of the elusive plants.

  With her heart hammering in her throat, she picked up three of the smallest pots, placed them securely into an empty five-gallon plastic bucket with a wire bale, and handed them to Herman. “Take these to my son,” she said. “They’re emergency medicine, and Lena needs them right now. They were taken from our land, according to the note attached to the pots.”

  “Let’s both go,” Herman said, lowering the video camera, then taking the plants from her carefully. “We have all we need now.”

  “I can’t leave yet. This is my one chance to search for something that will link Knight to the murder of our friend. I strongly suspect that he was the one who stole those special plants that our friend had been developing. If I find any growing here, that will connect him to those missing plants and the break-in of his trailer.”

  “But you can’t afford to get caught on his property. Our word might not carry much weight if we’re facing trespassing charges,” Herman reminded. “The videotape might get thrown out as evidence.”

  “But it would still provide a reason for the authorities to search this place. Besides, I don’t plan on getting caught. If I see him return, I’ll just sneak out the other door before he spots me. As long as he doesn’t know we’ve been here, he’s not going to suspect anything,” Rose replied.

  “Just make sure he doesn’t see you. I’d rather lose these plants than have you get hurt,” Herman said.

  “I’ll be fine. Just go, find a phone, and tell the police you saw a trespasser here in the greenhouse. Then deliver those plants to my son. Once the police arrive I’ll show myself and tell them I saw Knight digging up our plants earlier tonight on the reservation and followed him here. I’ll explain that I stayed to make sure he didn’t get the chance to destroy anything in the greenhouse when he saw the police arrive. Once they see the plants for themselves the evidence on the videotape will be all the corroboration they need.”

  “Promise to leave if he comes into the greenhouse before the police get here?” Herman said, turning toward the door.

  “Of course. I don’t want him to know we’re on to him. That’s the best way to protect the Plant People. If anything happens to all these plants, we might not have others to replace them, at least not for years, and some could be lost to us forever. As a Plant Watcher I owe this to the tribe and the Plant People. Now go.”

  Herman stood there. “I should be the one who stays. You take what you need to your son and bring the police.”

  “I can’t do that. This is my duty, and since the tribe hired me, it’s also my job. Also, as a Plant Watcher, I’ll be able to recognize our friend’s special plants easier than you can. Get the videotape away from here and protect it, then drive that hot-rod truck of yours as fast as you can and take the plants to my son.”

  As soon as Herman was gone, Rose fought a sudden surge of panic. She needed to focus. Herman would be back soon with help, but in the meantime she still had a job to do. Although Lena would finally get the medicinal plants she needed so badly, Charlie Dodge’s death still cried out for justice.

  Finding a flashlight on a workbench in the first room they’d entered, Rose returned to the big plant room and walked slowly down each row, using the increased lighting to help speed up her search. She found a planters filled with “frog tobacco” and “salt thin.” Halfway down the final row, Rose became aware of a fragrant and familiar scent. Searching for the source, she saw several plants on a planter next to the greenhouse wall. The small violet-blue flowers had a scent that was as unique as the vivid hue of their petals. Only one man had ever managed to create a variety like that. Those plants were Charlie’s special hybrids. Rose had wanted a link and now she had it. The only way Knight could have had these hybrids was if he’d taken them from Charlie.

  The gas company truck, the presence of the native plants at his greenhouse, the video of Knight digging up the plants disguised as a gas company employee, and now these dark blue flowers, matching the one she’d rescued from Charlie’s trailer, would all combine to make the case against Bradford Knight. She was trying to find other evidence to use against him, when she saw the beam of another flashlight through the greenhouse window. Rose ran to the far door and turned the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. She tugged, looking for a lever or a key to turn, but the door refused to budge. Either it was locked from the outside or the door mechanism was damaged, but there was no time now.

  Just a few seconds before the other door to the greenhouse opened, she turned off the flashlight, ducked down, and crawled underneath the closest planter. Crouching low, she made her way on her hands and knees to a hiding spot halfway between the rows.

  A moment later, Knight flipped on a row of overhead lights, set the gunnysacks down on a potting bench, then gave in to a long coughing fit, his body shaking by the time it subsided. Rose recalled his coughing before, and his pale skin, but he seemed even worse now. She wondered if perhaps he was suffering from something far more serious than a summer cold or a virus.

  Peering out of her hiding place, she saw Knight reach into his pocket, take out a medicine vial, and pop some pills into his mouth. He took out a hip flask from his back pocket and drank something to wash down the pills. After another short coughing spasm, he began to remove the varieties he’d dug up that night from the damp gunnysacks and started to pot them.

  She recognized the “baby newborn” plants. They weren’t in great shape, but she could see that he’d taken great care not to disturb the roots and had wrapped them carefully in the damp cloth. Remembering the plants he’d destroyed in the darkness, she realized now that he probably lost a fourth or more of everything he tried to dig up.

  As Knight worked on the potting bench, his back to her, Rose decided to crawl down the row of planters toward the door. Her eyes on Knight, she only moved when he was active and making noise. She was one planter away from the end of the row, almost even with him, when Knight accidentally dropped the small trowel he was using. It bounced on the concrete floor, landing just underneath the edge of the planter between Knight and where she was hiding. Rose froze, trying to melt into the shadows.

  Knight reached down for the trowel and looked right at her. “You!”

  Rose scrambled out from beneath the planters on the opposite side, placing a row of plants and tables between them. Instead of ducking beneath to
grab at her, Knight ran to the door and blocked her way, holding the trowel in his hand like a knife. “How dare you break in here!”

  Rose stood straight and calmly brushed the dust off her clothes, trying to keep her heartbeat from going through the roof. She knew that she had only one chance now. She had to convince him that the game was up.

  “A friend of mine and I followed you tonight. You went south past the Dunes in that gas company truck, the one you hide in your garage, then west onto the reservation. We know you’ve been digging up plants from Navajo land. You’ve been leaving marks all over with that military-style shovel of yours. A lot of those plants, the ones you didn’t destroy when you dug them up, are growing here now. But you’ve taken the life of an old Navajo man too, pushing him off the cliff and trying to make it look like an accident, and it’s no longer just simple theft. The police are on their way here now.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re here alone. Who are you trying to fool?”

  “You didn’t see my car outside, did you?” Rose asked, appealing to his logic. “That’s because I didn’t come here alone. My friend went to take the evidence we have to the police, then bring them here to arrest you.”

  “You’re on my property without my permission. If I get arrested, so will you.”

  “For what, trespassing inside the greenhouse of a criminal? It will be dismissed automatically once the evidence we’ve obtained reaches the district attorney. You’re the thief, and you’re the one who’s committed murder. The hybrid plants back there, the sweet-smelling dark blue ones you took from my friend’s trailer, are the link between you two. He would have never given you his special plants—something he’d spent years developing one step at a time. The gas company truck you’ve been driving—is it a phony or did you steal it—also links you to him. Witnesses who were in the area at the time he died saw that truck turn off the road and head straight toward where he was, below that mesa. It’s over for you now. The evidence is all here for the police.”

  “You’re misinterpreting the so-called evidence you have. I didn’t murder anyone.” He looked down at the trowel in his hand and lowered it. “Charlie and I were having an argument over business and he fell. It was an accident. That’s all.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, Rose pressed him. “You were arguing about the plants?”

  “No, the company I work for funded his research, which is why I have the plants here. The hybrids he developed would have been a great natural, completely safe dye, especially for food coloring.”

  “You’re telling me that you two worked together?” Her jaw dropped. It would explain some puzzling things about Charlie’s income and his generally secretive personal life. Still, it was a bit hard to take.

  “Yes, we worked for the same company, though technically Charlie Dodge was my employee. I paid him cash because he didn’t believe in checks. How do you think he managed to buy that new mobile home? At first he and I worked together well. We both needed the work and the income it provided, so we shared our expertise. He told me about the medicinal plants your medicine men used so I could research them. I stood to make a great deal of money selling the results of my research to the pharmaceutical company. But then I was diagnosed with an advanced stage of lung cancer. That’s when I remembered the stories people all around the reservation had told me about a miracle plant that cured cancer patients. I knew I had to find it.”

  Rose had hated the thief who’d damaged or destroyed so many plants with his careless, hurried digging, but now all she could feel was pity. “There is no such plant. Rumors like that have been going around as long as I can remember, but the truth is our people die of cancer too.”

  “You’re wrong. The plant’s uses and preparation were described to me in detail by an old man who lives out by Mount Taylor. They called him Hosteen Natoni—Mr. Natoni.”

  Rose nodded. “I know him, and I have no doubt he heard that story from someone else. It’s something that has been passed down for generations—like what people in the cities call an urban legend. But it’s false hope. There is no such plant.”

  “Natoni told me that only a few could identify the plant because that knowledge had nearly been lost over time. One of them was Charlie Dodge. But Charlie wouldn’t talk about it, so I stepped up my research with the plants I knew your medicine men used, trying to find the ones with known anti-tumor compounds. I worked day and night, but I haven’t been able to find the right plant.”

  “You’re searching for a mythical plant,” she said softly. “I’m truly sorry.”

  He focused his gaze on her. “So it’s all over for me, is that what you’re saying?” Knight didn’t wait for an answer. “If that’s the case, then so be it. But I won’t spend the last few months of my life in jail. This greenhouse, and you, have to go.” He reached behind him and brought a can of spray lubricant down from a shelf, then sprayed the pungent liquid up and down a wooden structural beam which reached all the way to the roof.

  Then he pulled out a silver lighter from his pocket. “They always said that being around someone who smoked was dangerous to your health.” Knight flicked the wheel with his thumb, and a long blue flame appeared.

  “No!” Rose grabbed the closest pot, which contained a small cactus, and threw it at him.

  The blow caught Knight on the head and he dropped the lighter. But he steadied himself quickly and reached for the large shovel resting against the greenhouse wall to his right. “It’ll be more merciful if I knock you out first. You’ll never feel the fire, because the smoke will probably kill you before then.”

  Rose looked around for a weapon, but there was none. In desperation, she casually scooped up some potting soil and held it in her fist as she stepped back, giving ground. As he raised the shovel to swing at her, she threw the soil right into his eyes.

  Knight staggered back coughing, and Rose ducked past him, bolting for the door. As she yanked it open, she ran right into Sheriff Taylor and Ella.

  “Mom!” Ella yelled as she reached out to steady her. “Are you okay?”

  Looking over Rose’s shoulder, Ella suddenly saw Bradford Knight burst through the doorway, his shovel raised. Pushing Rose behind her, Ella and Sheriff Taylor both reached for their pistols.

  As Knight lowered the shovel, Rose took an unsteady breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see you, daughter.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Rose was sitting in her daughter’s office at the Shiprock Tribal Police Station when Big Ed Atcitty, the police chief, appeared at the doorway.

  “I’ve seen the videotape,” he said, “and when the crucial frames are viewed one at a time, it’s easy to identify Knight as the person doing the digging.”

  “If he’d been able to complete his work, he might have been a rich man,” Ella said. “From what we saw, he was creating quality samples of the herbs the tribe commonly uses for medicinal purposes. He intended on providing dried specimens for lab extraction, then selling those pure extracts to the pharmaceutical company he worked with along with the information on their health applications. Herbal remedies don’t have to go through the same rigorous testing program that prescription drugs do, and he would have saved the company years of trial-and-error research. But then things went wrong.”

  Rose nodded, understanding. “Cancer shows no mercy,” she said. “I just wish I knew how he managed to learn about so many of our collection sites.”

  “I can answer that,” Ella said. “He admitted that he’d followed several medicine men when they were gathering their herb medicines, and though they may not readily admit it, according to Knight several medicine men talked freely about the collection sites their ‘competition’ used.”

  “I wonder if my friend, the man I knew as Charlie, found out he was being followed and that’s why they’d argued that day.”

  Ella nodded. “Knight has been plea-bargaining in order to get better prison accommodations and medical care. He told us that Charlie spotted the p
hony utility truck, remembered having seen it several times before, and decided to sneak up on whoever was inside. When he saw it was Knight, Charlie confronted him. They got into a scuffle that escalated and your friend suddenly collapsed and died. Knight told you the truth, he didn’t kill him, and the autopsy supports his story. Charlie did die of a heart attack. The most we’ll be able to pin on Knight is the theft of reservation plants and tampering with evidence at the scene of a crime. Involuntary manslaughter is a possibility, but the prosecutor doesn’t think it’ll stick. Knight made it look like Charlie had fallen off the cliff because he didn’t want to report it and get involved in an investigation.” Ella paused, taking a breath. “He’ll have to answer for a lot in court. I’ve heard that the natural gas company is thinking of suing Knight for pretending to be one of their employees too.”

  “At least Knight can’t dig up any more plants,” Rose said.

  “But you will have to answer for a few things also, Mom. What you did was illegal. What’ll make the evidence stand is that Sheriff Taylor and I went there to investigate a disturbance and we both saw the plants and their labels. All the plants were linked to tribal land because we found his codes in a logbook.”

  “And he’s confessed, right?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t exonerate you.”

  “Then so be it. My granddaughter’s father will defend me if Knight presses charges. But I think Knight will be too busy defending himself to do that. Especially if he’s trying to bargain for a better jail cell.”

  Ella glared at her. “Mom, doesn’t anything scare you?”

  “Sometimes,” Rose admitted softly. “But it’s what we end up doing in spite of it that defines who we are.”

  Big Ed laughed. “Like daughter, like mother. Right, ladies?”

  Ella sighed. “I give up.”