Shadow Canyon (A Coyote Wells Mystery Book 2)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Campouts and picnics.”

  “I remember the first time we came out here with Luke and Leia. We were probably eleven at the time. You told me this story, a legend about a great warrior named Wee-taw-wah, the spirit of the coyote, who protected a young maiden named Moonbow while she gathered water at a stream.”

  “Not quite the way I remember it,” Lando corrected with a grin.

  “Then talk to me, Lando. Make me forget what I saw back there.”

  “As the story goes, Moonbow was the daughter of a great chief. She woke up one morning and decided it was such a beautiful day that she’d weave her baskets down by the river. She walked all the way out to the nearest stream and found a rock next to the bank where she could easily braid sweetgrass and enjoy the birdsong without a worry in the world. Hours passed, and she had no idea she wasn’t alone. Nearby a young warrior from a rival tribe had been watching her from his perch on a cliff. His name was Wee-taw-wah and he was so taken with the young girl’s beauty, with her skin, with her eyes and her hair, that he couldn’t look away. He spent hours watching her weave her baskets until he noticed movement in the trees. That’s where Wee-taw-wah spotted a phantom, something sinister, watching the young maiden work. The watcher kept sneaking up on the young beauty from the other side, getting closer and closer. Wee-taw-wah saw the thing shapeshift into an innocent-looking maiden, ready to fool Moonbow. But the brave warrior knew the girl, the real girl, was in trouble. He called out to his spirit guide, the coyote, for help. Coyote immediately picked up the phony maiden’s trail. Wee-taw-wah himself leapt into action, crawling down from the bluff to make his way as fast as he could down to Moonbow to save her. Meanwhile the enemy was ready to strike. Wee-taw-wah took out his bow, aiming his arrow straight into the shapeshifter’s heart. Moonbow cried out with alarm until the phantom shifted back into his demon-like self. Moonbow was so grateful to Wee-taw-wah that she took him back to her village to meet her father. Whereupon, Wee-taw-wah asked for the lovely maiden’s hand in marriage.”

  “You tell it so much better than I remembered. Why didn’t you ever mention Aponivi to me back then?”

  “I did. Over the course of our childhood, I tossed in Aponivi several times here and there. You just weren’t paying attention.”

  “That’s the same thing Leia said to me about Kamena.”

  “Then it must be true. Back then you weren’t interested in learning native ways. Don’t try to pretty it up. That cave you’re so fascinated with was once earmarked as a make-out spot. But you wouldn’t go in there. You said the place was too rustic.”

  “Rustic? It was downright creepy and an unacceptable place to stay for long, let alone make out. And if we’ve been in there before, why not mention it last Sunday?”

  “Is it too much to expect that you’d remember all the times we spent out here?”

  “I think it might be. Have you given much thought as to who you’ll get to replace Louise?”

  “No idea. Know anyone who needs a stable income with benefits?”

  “As a matter of fact I do. Maybe Lianne would like to interview for it.”

  “Lianne? I thought she loved her job.”

  “She does, but it isn’t exactly stable income. I can’t promise I’ll still be in business six months from now or that I’ll ever be able to offer her benefits. She’d be better off with a regular job.”

  “What does Lianne say about this?”

  “She doesn’t know I’m out here pushing for her to take the job.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. Louise won’t go away without a fight. And suddenly her most vocal advocate is Fleet. I don’t quite get his change of heart, but it’s pretty obvious he’s in her corner now. Up until a few days ago he hated Louise.”

  “My guess is money. Louise is offering him some type of financial incentive for his support.”

  “Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned ethics?”

  “Out the window, significant other.”

  “Hey, I don’t know what we are from one day to the next. As you pointed out, you’re more than my girlfriend, more than my ex. But we don’t live together. Some days I’m confused about where we’re going.”

  “What’s confusing about us? We love each other. That’s the bottom line. Why do we have to declare anything else like we’re filling out a box on an application? We shouldn’t have to do that. Thanks to you, I’m wearing my wedding ring made from a moonstone rock that came from this very canyon. That says it all.”

  “It does?”

  “We have a long history together that no one else comes close to recreating. We know each other’s deepest thoughts. We’re each other’s best friend. Why does it have to be anything else?”

  “If you’re happy then I guess I am, too.”

  “You don’t sound like it.”

  The trail narrowed down but on a steep incline where only one horse could get through the opening. Lando took the lead on Bandit, cuing him into a trot to get up the hill. Gemma did the same with Gypsy.

  “I’m just caught up in this case. It’s making me crazy. Having to suspend Dale was a hard call to make. I’m always at odds with Louise. Her going behind my back to curry favor with Fleet is a low point. Then there’s Adam Greendeer going along with a sleazy betting pool. You think you know people and they stab you in the back. It’s depressing.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Stay out of situations that might compromise the investigation.”

  They reached the flat path on the other side where willow and coast oak were thickest. A snake slithered out from under the sagebrush causing Bandit to rear up, almost tossing Lando onto the ground.

  “Whoa there, boy,” Lando commanded. “Easy. Easy. It’s just a little gopher snake.”

  “But it’s hissing at us,” Gemma pointed out, jerking the reins into a halt.

  “That’s what they do. It’s just as scared of us as we are of him or her. Look, it’s already moved off into that patch of fountain grass. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Gemma said, patting Gypsy’s neck, nudging the horse past Bandit and his skittish behavior.

  Lando gave Bandit a little prod, coaxing him into a trot. The horse responded by raising his head and darting past the stretch of path he didn’t like.

  “You have a way with that horse.”

  He ran a hand along Bandit’s neck. “The more we ride, the more I understand his temperament. Maybe that applies to you, too. The more time we spend together, the better I see why our marriage didn’t work out in those early years.”

  “We hadn’t yet begun our journey.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. I prefer to think we had lives to lead, separate from each other, so that when we did come around again, we appreciated things much more than when we were kids.”

  As they descended out of the canyon, thunder rumbled behind them, a roar so loud it sounded like a sonic boom.

  “It seems Aponivi agrees with you.”

  “If that’s his sign of approval I’d hate to be around when he objects to something.”

  “Me too. Paloma offered me her granddaughter’s piano.”

  “You should take it.”

  “Do I really have time to learn to play, though? Dale said he’d teach me.”

  “Then you should make time. Figure out a way to do it. We should both start making more time to do the things we enjoy doing, especially making more time for each other. Both of us have always loved music. It could add another layer to what we already have. And I could still show you how to play guitar.”

  “I’d like that. Okay. I’ll let Paloma know I’ll take it.”

  Before reaching the stables, they watched storm clouds move in from the west. Ominous and dark, the cloudburst seemed to hit just as they reached the barn.

  Willow greeted them out of worry. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send out a search party for you guys.”

  Gemma
had to holler over the downpour. “It’s like the monsoon came out of nowhere.”

  Willow dumped grain into a feed bucket and filled up a trough with fresh water. “It does that sometimes. It’s almost like the land we live on is smack dab in the middle of a vortex of uncommon weather events, especially during the summer months. In the evening after the chores are all done, we sometimes sit on the porch and watch the sky go from sunny to cloudy in an instant. It isn’t the only strange phenomenon either. My grandfather kept track of all the weird weather, even describing strange halos, green fire, or fire in the sky that appeared out of nowhere without warning. My dad still keeps up his writings by adding to it every time there’s another unusual occurrence.”

  Gemma found that fascinating. “I’d love to read about what he wrote sometime. My grandmother kept journals about her life here. It’s amazing that generation spent so much more time with books, reading and writing things down, than we do today. Only by delving into the past can you correct the future.”

  “Who said that?” Lando wanted to know.

  “Aponivi,” Gemma muttered, without a clue as to how she knew that.

  18

  A drenching rain made for a cozy night inside Lando’s beach house where Gemma and Leia had pooled their talents to fix a scrumptious coconut clam chowder and homemade rolls.

  Members of Fortitude sat around the dinner table breaking bread and commiserating. The food was a bonus, served with a fruity but dry vino, and an ambiance that provided their own safe harbor.

  “I don’t see going back to the Duck & Rum,” Radley stated. “But if we want to keep the band together and still play, it seems to be our only option.”

  Over the course of the evening, Bosco Reynolds had tried defending his boss, only to have the others turn on him. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Adam meant anything by it. Although he has taken in over two thousand dollars.”

  “It’s not a consolation,” Lando fired back. “Even if he gives the money back, it’s an insult to Gemma and me. I still can’t figure out why Harry Ashcomb gives a damn about my love life or Gemma’s.”

  Bosco looked confused. “What does Harry have to do with the betting pool?”

  “That’s the same thing I wanted to know. Greendeer said it was his idea.”

  Bosco scratched the side of his jaw, where stubble had grown for several days. “That’s odd. I could’ve sworn it was Sam Wells, playing pool in the back one night with Jeff Tuttle. It was after you and Gemma had that big disagreement over her grandmother. You and Tuttle were in the same camp that thought Marissa’s death was an accident. Gemma thought it was murder. And you were upset because Gemma was trying to get Tuttle to change the cause of death. At least that was Tuttle’s story. Sam suggested you two would never get along for any length of time. I’m pretty sure betting started that night about when you’d get together and then when you’d split up.”

  “It’s been going on that long?” Gemma asked, astounded. “Don’t people have anything better to do than stick their noses into other people’s business?”

  “What difference does it make?” Lando proffered. “It’s still a lousy thing for Greendeer to have done. No one twisted his arm to take the money.”

  “Does anyone here really think Dale murdered Mallory?” Jimmy said, changing the subject. “That’s stupid talk. Dale couldn’t hurt a fly. Even when Lando sent us down for training, the guys in L.A. thought Dale wasn’t aggressive enough to be a cop.”

  Dale started to object. “Now wait a minute.”

  But Lando nodded, glancing over at Dale. “He’s right. But aggression isn’t exactly a plus to becoming a good cop. You just have to pass the psych tests and have a good head on your shoulders. Dale did both.”

  Dale sat up a little straighter. “Thanks for that. I wish I’d used the head on my shoulders to keep away from Mallory.”

  Gemma slapped him on the arm. “So don’t make that mistake again. I had this idea. We could put on a concert in the park once a week from now until Labor Day. We have our own equipment and a speaker system.”

  “Weather permitting,” Radley pointed out. “It might work.”

  “Because of my situation maybe I should drop out,” Dale suggested.

  “No one’s dropping out,” Lando stated. “You’re our keyboard player no matter what. We play together or not at all. The sooner we find Mallory’s killer, the sooner we can get back to normal.”

  Zeb cleared his throat. “I have some news on that score,” he said, eyeing Dale. “It might not be appropriate to go over it now, though.”

  “I get the message loud and clear,” Dale snapped, jumping up from his chair and starting for the door. “I’m leaving. Just let me know if we’re still playing Saturday night.”

  The door slammed, leaving everyone numb.

  Bosco got up to follow him out the door. “I’ll go buy him a beer. I don’t think he should be alone tonight.”

  Radley got to his feet, too. “You guys carry on. The more support he has, the sooner he’ll get back to himself.”

  “That was awkward,” Leia remarked when they’d all three gone. “Poor guy. I’ve known Dale forever and he’s just not capable of cold-blooded murder.”

  Luke took a pull on his beer. “I hate to see it, but Dale will forever be changed after this. That easy-going guy we know, will disappear. I’m not sure he’ll ever get his mojo back the way it was. You can already see the cloud of suspicion taking a toll on him.”

  Lianne put her hand on Luke’s back. “If only we could find something big that would break the case wide open and remove all doubt from Dale.”

  All eyes turned on Gemma.

  Gemma picked up her wine glass. “Don’t look at me. Aponivi was no help at all. Even less so than Kamena. There was no real connection between us like I had with her.”

  “Stands to reason,” Lianne began. When she got looks from the others, she went on, “Think about it. Aponivi is a guy. Nothing warm and fuzzy about an ancient shaman who thinks he holds all the answers.”

  Amused with that description, Gemma took a sip of the Chablis. “Yeah, well, Aponivi said I should right a wrong and then clammed up, did his disappearing act, and left me standing there in the wind wondering what he meant. I don’t see how that kind of guidance does anything to help me get better at this. So much for fulfilling a quest. What a crock.” She looked over at Zeb and held up her glass. “So if you have answers, Mr. Longhorn, do tell us your news.”

  Zeb pushed back from the table and stood up. “Lando piqued my interest right from the get-go by hinting that Louise Rawlins didn’t exist before she showed up here. I thought he was on to something, so I got a friend of mine in Portland to run facial recognition on Louise’s current California driver’s license to see if it matched anyone else in the system.”

  “And by system he means other DMVs going back years,” Lando added for clarification.

  “The hit that came back looks very similar to a woman by the name of Deborah Borelli out of Tucson, much younger of course. But to verify the direction this was going, I also sent him a photo of Holly Dowell. Got a hit on Holly as well when she lived in Los Angeles. Same last name matches to Borelli. The sisters grew up in the foster care system in Tucson after their mother abandoned them, left them one afternoon in the care of a neighbor and never came back.”

  “Then Rawlins must be a married name?” Gemma wanted to know.

  “Nope. Neither Louise or rather Deborah has ever been married. Why she became Louise Rawlins is anyone’s guess.”

  “Her fingerprints aren’t in the system,” Lando added. “So she wasn’t picked up on anything illegal as an adult. There’s scant details about the kids in Arizona because they were underage and Children’s Services frown on divulging much of anything on a juvenile. But something happened around the age of nineteen that prompted Deborah Borelli to become someone else.”

  Gemma grabbed her laptop. “Something just occurred to me. If Louise got a new
identity that year, why not search and see if anything major happened in the news? In this case, it would be news from Arizona or California.”

  “Throw in Nevada, too,” Zeb suggested. “She spent time hanging around Reno before she landed here.”

  Leia leaned back in her chair. “I find it fascinating that Louise isn’t native. I’m almost certain I had a conversation with her last summer where she claimed to be from the same Chippewa tribe as Cheyenne Song.”

  Lianne had been thumbing through the Internet. “The name Borelli originated in the Tuscany region of Italy. It’s definitely not Chippewa.”

  Lando’s cell phone lit up. “Gotta go. SOS from Payce. Seems he has a live one down at Thackery’s.”

  “I’ll go,” Jimmy offered.

  “We’ll both go,” Lando returned. “Zeb, do me a favor. Hold down the fort here until I see what type of situation Payce has on his hands.”

  “No problem. Let me know if you need help.”

  Thackery’s Pub was a more fashionable bar than any other in town. It was owned by Peg Thackery, a Brit, who’d moved here after losing her parents in an airplane crash in 1990. Peg offered pricey cocktails, imported cognac, and a list of craft ales as long as your arm.

  With a fireplace on one wall and several comfy chairs sitting in front of it, the cozy setting brought people in for its old Victorian charm. It wasn’t unusual for customers to spend hours here in one of the big wooden booths, buying rounds of drinks or trading gossip. You could even get your picture taken with a cardboard cut-out of the Queen Mother to use as a Christmas card.

  Peg’s clientele were loyal return customers who didn’t mind warm beer. They came to play darts or cribbage or backgammon. Some even preferred to wait their turn for a crack at the reigning chess champion of the week.

  When Lando and Jimmy strolled in, Payce stood in the middle of what seemed like an angry mob. The cop was surrounded by a group of Louise’s loyal barflies.

  Lando sized up the situation. An inebriated Louise held court, letting her opinion be known about how there was no justice in town.