“Such as?”
“You’d have to ask her, I guess.”
“But you know something.” Landry didn’t mind pushing. She was just tired enough and ready for this day to be over to be more blunt than she’d usually allow herself.
He ran a hand over his head. His bald spot shone in the outside security light’s glow. “Let me just say that I believe there are some lines you shouldn’t cross. A marital vow is one of those.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll leave it at that.”
“Are you saying Stan and Winifred—”
Her question was cut off by the police cruiser pulling up and parking right in front of them. Officer Hogan stepped out from behind the steering wheel. “Miss Parker.” He shut the car door.
She stood. “Officer Hogan.”
Officer Paxton got out, holding a camera. “Miss Parker.”
She smiled, her exhaustion threatening to take charge. She sat back down in the chair.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened, starting at the beginning?” He held the form attached to a clipboard in his hands, pen poised.
Slowly, Landry recounted the evening’s events, ending with Phillip keeping her company until the police arrived.
“Did you see where Vanessa was before she spoke to you?”
Landry paused, trying to remember. She was just so tired. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you see where she went after she spat at the ground in front of you?” Officer Hogan asked.
She pointed across the parking lot. “I guess I assumed she went back to the office, but she might’ve gotten into a car and left. I don’t really know. Once I saw my room, I didn’t really think about Vanessa at the moment.”
“I see.” Officer Hogan wrote and then paused, staring into the back of the motel lot. “And the only thing missing is your handgun?”
“That’s all I can tell right now. I didn’t want to get in there and mess things up if there was evidence.”
“Uh-huh. What kind of handgun was it again?”
“Beretta M9. Serial number M9-041802.”
“You know your gun’s serial number?”
She nodded. “Old habit from my days as an army MP.”
He wrote it down. Glanced over at Phillip. “I guess you didn’t happen to hear or see anything unusual around Miss Parker’s room tonight?”
Phillip shook his head. “I’d been down at Handlebar Pub and Grill having a cold one, and I’d just come back and was walking to my room and passed Landry’s. The door was ajar and I wondered if she was okay, leaving the door open and all, so I stuck my head in and saw the mess.”
“What about Mr. Hauge? Have you seen him tonight?”
Phillip gave a dry laugh. “He sure wasn’t with me.”
Once again, clear evidence there was quite a bit of animosity between the two men.
Another thought occurred to her. “There was a reporter earlier who kept asking me and Nickolai about the map. It’d be easy for anybody to find out where we were staying. This isn’t an interior hotel, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to determine which rooms were ours.”
“We’ll check that out.” Officer Hogan stood as his partner came out of the room.
“Got pictures of everything.” Officer Paxton looked at Landry. “Did you call the office to have someone come clean up the mess?”
She shook her head. “I’ll do it myself. I’d rather see if there’s anything else missing.”
Officer Hogan nodded. “Call me if you do.”
“I don’t see any signs of forced entry.” Officer Paxton inspected her door.
Man, how had she missed even checking that out? She must be more tired than she’d realized.
“And you’re positive you locked it when you left?” Officer Hogan asked.
“Yes.” Well, she was pretty positive. Right now, she was clearly off her game. But when she’d left … yes, she always locked her doors.
“Then we’ll go speak to Vanessa. She obviously has access to the key. As well as Kohl and Margaret.” Officer Hogan slipped his pen into his pocket. “We’ll be in touch.”
Landry said good night to the police and Phillip then went into her room and shut her door, putting on the night latch. She sighed and picked up her laptop. The bottom dropped off.
Such a mess. As she reached to pick up the keyboard, another thought occurred to her: Stan Hauge had a key to her room.
Every time his hospital room door opened, Nickolai straightened. As soon as he saw it wasn’t Landry, he sighed. Strange to admit that, even to himself, but he didn’t have time to analyze it at the moment as the cheerfully loud and peppy nurse drew back the curtains. Sunlight spilled into the room. At least now he wore one of the gowns so he didn’t feel so naked or vulnerable.
“Good morning. It’s going to be a beautiful day.” The middle-aged redhead turned and smiled wide at him. “And I hear you’ll most likely be leaving us today, which is always good news, now isn’t it?” She checked his IV then lifted his chart.
Nickolai had always considered himself a morning person. He always woke well before six, usually exercised for half an hour before settling in with the news over coffee. Yet, in comparison to this woman, he felt like a true grouch, shying away from all things bright and cheerful.
“Let’s check your hand, shall we?” She set down the chart and pulled on gloves.
Nickolai set his right palm up for her inspection.
Her fingers were deft but gentle. “Looks like the swelling’s gone down considerably. Dr. McCormack said we could go without the ice pack if it was, so looks like you’ll get rid of that.” She pressed his flesh. “Looks like you might need to finish off your antibiotics before you’re discharged to make sure you don’t have a residual infection.”
“I feel good.”
She stepped back and pulled off the gloves with a pop then tossed them in the trash. “You’re doing very well. You were quite lucky. Such an allergic reaction … out in the mountains … well, it could’ve been disastrous for you.”
He smiled to himself. Landry had saved him, in more ways than one. She’d started to heal the wounds of his parents’ deaths, without even realizing it. Landry Parker was quite something.
“Well, that smile says it all.” The nurse made a note in his chart. “Your breakfast will be in directly.”
Nickolai watched her leave, feeling almost as cheerful as her.
He inspected his hand. The redness didn’t look as dark as it had last night. It wasn’t as puffy, either. There was still a little dark circle around the pinprick where the scorpion had actually stung him. Nasty little creature. During the night, he’d had many nurses and LPNs come in to check on him and monitor his condition. They’d shared their horror stories of the critters. Nickolai considered himself very lucky to have fared as well as he did.
Thanks to Landry.
The door opened and a young Native American girl in scrubs entered, carrying a food tray. She set it on the table beside the bed and moved to adjust it within his reach.
“Thank you.” He smiled at her.
She smiled back, her single long braid swaying against her back as she moved. “You are welcome.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ela.” Her smile was easy and honest.
Nickolai immediately liked her. “That’s a very pretty name.”
“It means ‘earth’ in Apache.”
“Apache. I heard something the other day that I think is Apache. I don’t know what it means, though.”
“What is it? Maybe I can help you.”
“Sadnleel da’ya’dee nzho. Do you know what that means?”
She nodded slowly. “Basically, it means long life, old age, everything is good.” She hesitated.
“What?” He sat up straighter in bed.
Ela stood at the foot of his bed. “That phrase is usually used just by shamans in my tribe, and usually during rituals. Where did you hear it?”
“I guess maybe I dream
ed it, because I thought I overheard it here.”
“You dreamed it?” Ela gripped the rail at his feet.
“Maybe. I heard chanting and that phrase. I think I saw a very tall Indian man.” He remembered more of a feeling than what he actually saw. “But I felt safe. Secure. Like everything was okay.”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“I’ve never heard of a white man having a dream vision.”
“A what?”
“A dream vision. Where a spirit comes and speaks to you. Foretells or warns you.”
“I didn’t get a warning, and I didn’t see or hear a spirit.”
“A shaman is very wise in transcendent ways. Their rituals usually lead to vision quests, journeys, and even dream visions. The man you saw was a spirit warrior.”
Nickolai wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. He knew the people of this area took this stuff very seriously. In his gut, he didn’t see any humor, either. “A warrior?”
Ela nodded. “You said he was tall?”
Nickolai nodded.
“Tall represents strength. Strength of warriors. That you felt safe and all would be okay; that’s foretelling that something will happen, something significant and most likely life threatening, but you will choose wisely and all will be okay.”
“Like me being stung by a scorpion and having an allergic reaction?”
Ela tilted her head. “Maybe. But if you had your dream visions after you were already here, I think not. Foretelling means you will face a choice. You choose wisely, and all will be okay.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t think he wanted another life-threatening event. The allergic reaction was enough for him.
“Do you remember anything else?” Ela asked.
He shook his head then stopped. “I remember hearing one word. Gopan. Do you know what that means?”
Ela stared, eyes wide.
“You do. What does it mean?”
“It means ‘protection,’ but it’s not a word.”
Nickolai used his elbows to sit up straight. “It’s not a word?”
Ela stood ramrod straight. “It’s a name. Gopan was one of the first warriors put in charge of protecting the Thunder God’s mountain and all within it.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
“Then I guess I just overheard it somewhere else and mixed it in my dream.”
Ela shook her head. “No. You see, Gopan lived centuries ago. It is a name of respect. Only warriors reborn to protect are called this. I know of none alive today.”
“So how do you suppose I heard it?” Little twinges of discomfort pulsed in his chest as he anticipated her answer.
“You were visited in a dream vision by Gopan. You will make a very important decision regarding the Thunder God. If you choose wisely, you will be okay.”
The door opened and Landry stepped inside. “Can I come in?”
Ela backed away. “Remember, choose wisely and you will be okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nickolai looked good. Really good. Landry didn’t want to really admit to herself how much she’d been looking forward to seeing him today.
“Good morning.” Nickolai’s smile made something in Landry’s stomach quiver then tighten. She’d never felt like this, but she wasn’t going to take the time to figure out what it meant. She might not like what she learned.
“How was your night?” She set a paper bag on top of his food tray.
“Good, except they kept waking me up every hour to take my vitals.”
“Yeah, a hospital is not a place to get any rest, that’s for sure. I brought you something.” She nodded toward the bag. “Stopped at Mickey D’s Café and grabbed you some breakfast. Figured it had to be better than hospital food.”
“You are a saint.” He dug into the bag. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled food. Thank you.”
She pulled the chair up beside his bed. “Has the doctor been by to see you yet?”
He shook his head. “Just the nurse. She took me off the ice pack and is having me finish up antibiotics, but said I looked good to be discharged.” He took a bite and swallowed. “How was your night?”
She’d debated on the drive over whether to tell him about her room being trashed and finally decided that he’d find out soon enough, so best to tell him herself so she could downplay. “Well, it was interesting, to say the least.”
“Do tell.” He took another bite.
Landry gave him the important details while he finished his breakfast. His frown didn’t give way, even after he’d finished eating and drank the cup of juice that had come with his hospital tray.
“What did Hogan and Paxton say?”
“Nothing yet. They took pictures and were going to question Vanessa and Kohl and Margaret, but honestly, I just can’t see it being any of them.”
“But Vanessa spit at you.”
“Yeah, but she was in my face. I can’t see her being direct and also being sneaky to trash my room.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it was retaliation.”
“Then what do you think?”
“I think it’s possible it was somebody trying to find out if I knew where the map was.”
Nickolai held up his hands and grinned. “Hey, I was in the hospital. Check my alibi.”
She laughed. “Yeah, you’re good this time. But after the news reporter … it could be anybody.” She sobered. “Did you know Stan’s key unlocks our rooms as well as his own?”
“What?” He bolted upright in the bed.
“Yeah, I didn’t, either. The day my room key was locked in the Jeep, Margaret said I should’ve just asked Stan to unlock my door for me. I didn’t really think about it at the time because I got to questioning Vanessa, but now …”
“Why would Stan trash your room, crush your laptop, and steal your gun?”
“Well, I had an interesting conversation with Phillip last night.”
“Did you, now?”
Landry nodded and repeated the conversation she’d had. “There’s definitely something about Stan and Winifred that Phillip doesn’t like. Maybe he killed Bartholomew to get Winifred and just stole the map to make it look like a different motive so no one would suspect him.” She’d played that scenario out in her head a thousand times last night when sleep refused to come.
“My, you did have an interesting night, didn’t you?” Nickolai shifted in the bed. “I guess that would work. I don’t know what Stan’s alibi was for the time of Bartholomew’s murder. Do you remember?”
She shook her head. “And all my documents were destroyed, but I do remember Monica telling me that Stan had been pushing Bartholomew to take retirement. Maybe he was trying to push Bartholomew out of the office as well as out of Winifred’s life.”
Nickolai straightened the sheet over his legs. “Could be. But then coming here with us defeats his purpose, doesn’t it?”
“Have you noticed that he keeps asking if we’re done here? How he keeps making a big deal out of the note to leave, making the suggestion that we do? Almost as if everything happened and Winifred asked him to come with us and he couldn’t very well say no, but he’s doing everything to get us to leave. Maybe he punctured my tire, left the note, trashed my room. He could have even cut your brake lines.”
Nickolai laughed. “I can’t see Mr. Fuddy Duddy knowing the difference between a brake line and a gas line, much less being able to cut the lines so cleanly.”
“You think not? There are videos online on how to do most anything. I checked this morning, and just a random search on my cell for ‘how to cut brake lines video’ yielded over ten videos. Anybody with access to the Internet and the desire to learn how to do something can find out how. And according to what I saw, it can be done pretty quickly.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“I’m going to talk to him this afternoon.”
“Wait until I can go with you.”
She smiled, feeling the heat spread across her face,
but she didn’t care. It was nice to have someone worry over her. Besides Marcie. A guy. A man. A very attractive man.
Stop it! “I’m here, aren’t I? I resisted going to talk to Stan first thing this morning.”
“Let me see if they can tell me when I’m going to get released.” He hit the nurse call button. When a lady asked what he needed over the intercom, he asked to be discharged. The voice told him someone would be in to see him directly.
“I think while you’re speaking with the doctor, I’m going to go find a cup of coffee.” She stood, needing to have a little distance from him. She must still be exhausted, because her mind went places it shouldn’t. “Do you need anything?”
He shook his head. “But thanks.”
“I’ll be back.” She headed toward the elevator bay, pulling her cell out of her purse as she walked. She pushed the DOWN button and leaned against the wall. She’d already learned that the elevators in this hospital were slow. Very slow. And one out of order.
“I told you, the white man had a dream vision with Gopan. He told me so himself,” a woman’s voice wisped down the hall.
Landry froze, holding her breath to focus her listening. She could hear only mumbling in response.
Then the same voice continued. “No, but this means the Shis-Inday are close. Someone is close to finding the mine. Whoever has that map must be stopped. The map must be returned to the Shis-Inday to be destroyed, or we will all suffer the anger of Thunder God.”
The elevator dinged, and the car door opened. Landry remained planted to the spot. She still couldn’t make out anything but the deep mumbling response to the female voice.
“I know. I will do what I can. I have to go now. I have to get back to work.” The sound of shoes squeaked against the freshly waxed floor.
The elevator door closed slowly. Once the hum of its descent sounded, Landry pressed the button again and pushed off the wall. She stared down the corridor where the woman’s voice had come from.
The young woman with the long braid down her back who had been leaving Nickolai’s room rushed down the hallway. An older man, the same one she’d seen talking to the old Indian at the motel, scurried away.
Nickolai had a dream vision? What exactly was that? What did it mean?
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