by Paty Jager
“Yes. I seen him fall. Landed like a sack of potatoes. Didn’t even try to get up or move out of the way of Loco’s hooves. We all knew what that horse would do if you landed on the ground. You had to move fast so the hazer could get between you and Loco.”
“What do you mean, he didn’t even try to get out of the way?” Shandra’s chest squeezed with fear. She felt as if she were lying on the ground unable to move out from under the striking hooves.
“They say he hit his head. Knocked him out. That’s why he didn’t move.” Charlie looked up at her. “Wish I hadn’t been there.”
“Why?”
“Wasn’t the way I wanted to see him go down.” Charlie picked up the beer can next to his chair and guzzled.
“But you did want him to go down?” Shandra asked.
The old man set the can on the table, wiped his shirt sleeve across his mouth, and nodded. “He thought no one could beat him.” Charlie half smiled. “Someone did.”
“Someone who?” Her heart pounded in her ears. What did this man know?
“The Creator, the rodeo organizers who were getting tired of hearing from the Whites that an Indian was beating them, the rough stock providers being told their stock wasn’t rough enough if an Indian could ride them.” He swung an arm. “Take your pick. Edward Higheagle made a lot of people look foolish.”
Chapter Nine
Shandra drove back to Nespelem with a thousand questions whirling in her mind. Coop remained quiet. Was he also replaying the conversation or was he thinking about his next basketball game? He’d seemed to hang on every word Charlie said, but then hadn’t said a word when they returned to the Jeep.
“You can drop me off at the Center if you want. I can catch a ride home after practice.” Coop said as they neared the turnoff to the Higheagle ranch.
“Is your mom working today?” Shandra wasn’t sure she was ready to reveal anything she’d learned today to anyone just yet. The people Charlie mentioned as having a problem with her father could be her stepfamily.
“She only worked this afternoon. She could be on her way home by now.”
The sun had set just as they pulled into Nespelem. That was the problem with winter, the daylight was too short. It was only 4:30, but darkness was descending.
She pulled into the community center parking lot.
“I don’t see mom’s pickup. She probably headed home by now,” Coop said, reaching into the back seat for his new shoes. “Thanks for giving me a ride to Omak.” He held the shoes in his lap. “What are you going to do about what Charlie Frank told us?”
“Make some phone calls. Dig a little more.” Shandra didn’t see any reason to not tell Coop the truth. He’d heard everything she had and had a right to know where the information might take her.
He nodded. “If you need anything dug up from the rez records let me know. I have access from some of the computer work I’m doing for college and for the tribal council.”
Shandra smiled. “That’s good to know. Thanks.”
“See you at the house.” He stepped out and closed the door, waving as he trotted into the center.
Shandra pulled out her phone. The signal was better here than at the ranch.
She dialed Lil.
“Evenin’,” Lil answered.
“Good evening. Everything going fine there?” Shandra asked.
“Right as rain. Animals are fed and tucked in for the night. I cleaned the studio and the house today. I’ll plow the road in the morning.” There was a pause. “Are you coming home tomorrow?”
“At this moment, yes. Unless something comes up. But I doubt it will. My cousin can look into things here on the reservation for me.” Shandra didn’t think pulling Coop in to find information she wasn’t privileged to would harm him.
“Are you leavin’ in the morning? I want to make sure the road is clear when you come.”
“I’ll be home by noon. Does that give you enough time?”
“Yep. I’ll be out there as soon as the sun’s up.”
Shandra’s lips tugged into a smile. She had no doubt the woman would be out there at the crack of dawn. “See you tomorrow.” Tapping the off button, she then touched her contacts and tapped Ryan’s name.
The phone rang twice.
“Good evening, Shandra,” he said. The tone told her he was smiling.
“Evening to you, Detective Greer.” She was used to the flutter in her belly when he spoke to her that way. It was a sure sign she was getting closer to committing to a relationship with him. But after her last two fiascos she was taking her time with Ryan. She wanted to know him inside and out to make sure he didn’t have a hidden side to him like her high school boyfriend and Professor Landers.
“When are you coming home?” Ryan asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“Perfect! I have the day off. How about hanging around in Warner with me. I’ll buy you lunch and dinner if you want to stay that late.”
His enthusiasm was hard to ignore.
“I would love to have lunch and spend some time with you, but I’d like to get home before dark. Can I take a rain check on the dinner?” She would have loved to spend the entire day with him in his environment. They had mostly spent time together in Huckleberry or at her ranch, never where she could meet his friends and learn more about him.
“What time will you be here?”
She laughed. “If I leave at eight I can be there by ten. Is that early enough?”
“No. But it will do. Warner put up the Christmas decorations on the street yesterday.”
He sounded excited about Christmas. She usually spent her Christmas going to the local family shelter and handing out small gifts and necessities to the women and children. Helping battered women regain their respect was an important goal of hers.
“I’ll get there as close to ten as I can.” And I’ll wait until then to discuss what I learned.
“I’m on duty. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The phone went silent. A day spent with Ryan in an environment where she didn’t have to worry about people making assumptions about their relationship. She loved Huckleberry and the residents, but they were too nosy when it came to her and Ryan.
She called Lil back, telling her she’d be hanging out in Warner most of the day but to expect her before dark.
Then she started up her Jeep and headed back to Nespelem and up the Nespelem River. Her thoughts lingered on the conditions Charlie Frank lived in and how he could have afforded the ranch when he’d purchased it. In the dark, she navigated the road as if she’d driven it as many times as the road from Huckleberry to her ranch. Her lights caught on the pole gate and fence denoting the beginning of the Higheagle property. It sounded like Coop planned to live elsewhere when he received his degree. What about Andy? Would he stay on to keep the Higheagle Ranch in the family?
She parked where she had the night before. Turning off the engine, she sat a minute in the Jeep. It would be terrible if the ranch didn’t stay in the Higheagle family. Her father and Aunt Jo were the only children of Minnie and Joseph. Maybe one of Velma’s children would be interested, though they weren’t Higheagles they were family.
The light at the back door came on. Aunt Jo stuck her head out. Shandra exited the Jeep and walked to the house.
“I thought you pulled in, but when you didn’t come in, I thought maybe I didn’t hear right.” Jo held the door wide open, allowing the comforting aroma of baked bread and fried meat to swirl around her head.
“Dinner smells delicious. Will it be just us?” she asked, hoping for some time with this family without being pulled by other family members.
“It will be you, me, Martin, and Andy. Coop called to say he was going to Alexander’s house after practice and he’d bring him home.” Jo closed the doors and moved to the stove.
“I’ll put my things in my room and come back down to help.” Shandra headed to the door out of the kitchen.
“I don’t need any help, but you can visit
while I finish up.” Jo smiled and busied herself at the stove.
Shandra hurried up the stairs, deposited her things on the bed, and returned to the kitchen.
“How did Charlie behave?” Jo asked, without any preamble.
“Like a man who is losing sight of reality. His house is a hovel. Beer cans, magazines and newspapers, and half eaten TV dinners are all over. There are even mice in his house.” Shandra was still trying to make sense of a man who had once been driven to be so uncaring of everything around him.
Jo shook her head. “You’d be surprised how many homes on the reservation you’ll find like that. If they don’t see hope, they lose track of life.”
“Are there any in this family like that?” Shandra hadn’t noticed anyone the night before who looked despondent.
“There are some. We try to keep them included and help them on their bad days.” Jo’s eyes appeared misty.
It was evident she held family dear.
“Were any at the dinner last night?” Shandra wanted to reach out to them. See if she could discover how to help.
“No. The more you visit they will come to see you as family and not a busybody.” Jo handed Shandra plates. “Tell me about Charlie.”
Shandra recounted her conversation.
“You didn’t ask him how he could afford the ranch?” Aunt Jo asked, handing Shandra the eating utensils.
“No. How would one go about discovering how he came into possession of that land?”
“I would imagine you’d find the records in the agency offices somewhere.”
Stomping at the back door turned their attention to Martin and Andy entering the kitchen.
They were both bundled up. As they took off their stocking caps and coats, bits of hay drifted to the floor.
“Looks like you two were doing the chores,” Shandra said, grabbing the broom by the door and sweeping the hay into a small pile.
“The livestock on this place takes time to feed and check on,” Martin said, sitting on the bench by the back door and unlacing his boots.
“Do you still breed horses?” Shandra hadn’t had time to ask all the questions that had bounced around in her head on the drive to the reservation.
“Yes, only now we are breeding purebred appaloosas.” The enthusiasm in Andy’s voice made Shandra happy.
“I take it you’re a horseman like my father?” she asked.
“Not really. I like the vet part of animals. Keeping them healthy, seeing how breeding makes a better animal.” Andy’s eyes danced with excitement.
“I’m so glad someone will be interested in keeping this ranch in the family.” She hugged Andy. Surprising both him and herself.
Jo laughed. “We’ve been worried you would want the ranch.”
Shandra looked each one in the eyes. “No. I have a beautiful ranch on Huckleberry Mountain. You’re all welcome to come visit any time. It felt like home the minute I set foot on the property. But I was worried no one would want to stay on here and preserve great-grandfather’s legacy.”
“Coop has never shown any interest in the land or animals. But Andy. He’s been hugging animals since he was big enough to crawl over to our old dog.” Martin ruffled his son’s hair. The teenager smashed it back down and narrowed his eyes at his father.
“I’m happy to know it will be in good hands. And I’d like to purchase an appaloosa or two from you. I have one. His name is Apple.”
They all laughed and sat at the table. Jo had placed dishes of food on the table as they talked.
Halfway through the meal, Shandra heard a jazz tune playing. “My phone.” She jumped up from the table and raced up the stairs. The music had stopped by the time she pulled the phone out of her purse. She looked at the call back number but didn’t know who it was.
Carrying the phone downstairs, she realized it was a local number. She checked the voice mail. No messages.
Why would someone try to call her and not leave a message?
“Do you know who this number belongs to?” Shandra handed her phone around the table.
“It’s local,” both Jo and Martin said.
“Call it back,” Andy said, with the logical idea.
Shandra smiled at him. “That would be the best way to figure it out.” She punched in redial.
Two rings and a gruff voice said, “Ketch Pen.”
Shandra peered at the people around the table. “It’s the Ketch Pen?”
“Ask for Coop,” Andy said.
“Is Coop Elwood there, please,” Shandra asked.
The man laughed. “Is this a joke? No one asks for Coop that nice.”
“Gimme that!” Coop’s voice mumbled in the background.
“Shandra?” he asked.
“Yes. Why did you call me? How did you get my number?” She didn’t remember giving him her number.
“I’ll tell you later. Come down here with Dad. There’s someone here who knows a lot about Charlie Frank, and she is willing to tell anyone who buys her a drink.”
Shandra cast a glance at Martin. “Who is it?”
“Jessie Lawyer.”
The name didn’t mean anything to Shandra. “I’ll tell your dad and we’ll meet you there.”
“What was that?” Jo asked.
“That was Coop. He wants Martin and I to meet him at the Ketch Pen to talk to Jessie Lawyer.”
Aunt Jo’s eyes widened and her mouth puckered. “I don’t want either of you talking to Jessie.”
Shandra didn’t know why Jo was so adamant. “Coop said she has a lot to say about Charlie Frank.”
Jo’s eyes flashed to her husband. “She has a lot to say about a lot of men.”
Martin’s face darkened in color. “Jo that was a long time ago. Before you stole my heart.”
“I don’t trust her!” Jo crossed her arms. “I don’t want either of you going there. Andy go get your brother.”
“Aunt Jo. If she knows something I have to talk to her. I’ll go by myself.” Shandra picked up her dishes and placed them in the sink.
“No. It’s best to have someone with you. I’ll call Velma. Pick her up before you go to the tavern.” Jo moved to the phone.
Shandra didn’t know why Aunt Jo was so adamant about taking someone with her, and not her husband, but she’d take the dog if that made Jo happy and got Shandra a chance to visit with this Jessie person. She gathered her coat and purse and headed out into the night. She’d planned on a nice evening catching up on the whole family, not walking into a tavern on the reservation.
Chapter Ten
Shandra picked up Velma. She was standing in the front window waiting for her. As they drove the short distance to the tavern, Shandra asked the question that had been on her mind since starting up the Jeep and heading back to Nespelem. “Why is Jo so against Jessie Lawyer?”
Velma stared out the front window of the vehicle. “Jessie isn’t Indian. She worked the rodeo circuit back when Edward, Charlie, and Martin were rodeoing.”
“Martin? I didn’t know he rodeoed.” Another fact she would stick away.
“He was several years behind the other two. It was his first year on the circuit. Edward tried to keep an eye on him. He knew Jo had her heart set on Martin. Jessie got drunk one night and flirted with Martin. She sent him all kind of female signals. And like any man that age, he fell for the signals. Only when he acted on what he thought she wanted, she started hollering rape. I don’t know what she thought she’d get out of the whole spectacle. All it did was hurt Martin’s family and Jo has never forgiven Jessie.”
“If she isn’t Indian what is she doing drinking in a reservation tavern?” Shandra was pretty sure only reservation residents hung out in the tavern.
“She married Raymond Lawyer after living with Charlie Frank for about five years. Ten years after her marriage to Raymond, she started drinking heavy.” Velma glanced over at Shandra. “Be careful of her. She may be drunk, but she’s still very much like the coyote.”
A square wooden bui
lding with a lighted Ketch Pen sign came into view.
Shandra pulled up alongside a beat up Ford and parked. “You don’t have to go in,” she said to Velma.
“You need someone to be there to make sure she doesn’t play tricks with you. That is why Coop asked for his father. He doesn’t know the story behind Martin and Jessie. But he does know Jessie’s antics.” Velma slid out of the Jeep and led the way into the Ketch Pen.
Shandra stepped through the door and was surrounded by heat, the odor of stale beer, and murky lighting. The lights over the pool tables beamed down like beacons onto the green felt surface and backs of the heads of the people leaning over the tables. A half dozen locals wielded pool cues. The crack of balls hitting punctuated the murmuring of the people at the scattered tables and bar.
Velma tapped Shandra on the shoulder and pointed to a wall. An array of photographs hung on the wall. Walking along, squinting at each photo depicting a Native American either in a race car or other sporting event, her heart stopped when she spotted a photo of Edward Higheagle. He held up a belt buckle and had a huge grin on his face. She reached out, touching her father’s face under the cold, grimy glass of the picture frame.
Velma cleared her throat, reminding Shandra why they were here. She tore her gaze away from her father and headed to a table.
Coop moved away from the bar and headed straight to them. “Why’d you bring Aunt?” he asked.
Shandra glanced at Velma.
“Because your mom had chores for your dad,” Velma said, nodding her head toward an average-sized woman with a tight, pink, long-sleeved shirt that had sparkles cascading down the front. The fabric stretched over her middle making a pretty pink muffin top. The dim lights made it hard to tell if her hair was bleached blonde or silver. It was in a style of the nineteen-seventies. Hair spray plastered bangs that rose from her forehead and swooped over the top of her head like photos of the Nez Perce men in the 1800s. The longer locks were pulled up into a fluffy ponytail tied with a pink ribbon.
“That’s Jessie?” Shandra asked.
Velma and Coop nodded.
“Do you suggest I introduce myself or just sit down and start up a conversation?” She didn’t have a clue how to approach this woman who had a history with both her family and Charlie Frank.