by Aimée Thurlo
“I honestly wasn’t sure how our regulars would react,” Jo said, “but from the tiny sample last night, so far, so good. I think we might get more passing tourists dropping by, too, though only time will tell. There were several who came in yesterday during our brief reopening and two were really captivated by Melvin’s display. One wants to commission a horse sculpture, the other a mountain lion.”
“That’s great. Do you think they’ll be in the area long enough to come back and cut a deal?” Leigh Ann asked, knowing Melvin would be pleased.
“Yes, they left their cell phone numbers so they could call and confirm sometime today. They’re willing to meet his terms, half up front and the other half upon delivery. I quoted them Melvin’s highest figure, the price he thought we’d never get. They never even blinked! Both men are sales reps on vacation, but they work this area. They’ll be coming back in another four weeks and could pick up the sculptures if Melvin agrees and the pieces are ready. I’ve already got their credit card numbers and will run them through once Melvin gives me the okay.”
“I’ll talk to him. He told us before that he was willing to work on more than one thing at a time if the projects weren’t overly large or complex.”
“Let me know,” Jo said.
Leigh Ann returned to the break room, planning to make a fresh pot of coffee—their usual blend. After all, the new drinks weren’t free for staff, so she expected her coworkers would favor the familiar coffee.
As she plugged in the pot and pushed the brew button, Sam came in.
Leigh Ann smiled. “You’re here early.”
“I had second thoughts and decided to set up a separate router for the coffee bar Wi-Fi. That’ll make our regular network more secure. Jo doesn’t pay me by the hour, I’m a contract worker, like you, so she doesn’t mind if I switch my time around.”
“I heard you fixed some mean coffee yesterday.”
Sam smiled. “It’s a recipe I came up with for myself months ago. I couldn’t afford to buy the four-dollar brews at the fancy coffee shop, so I created something I thought was even better.”
“Jo said that you did some research for Melvin and me last night,” Leigh Ann mentioned. “Did you find out if any girls the right age were reported missing around the time of Melvin’s accident?”
“I used several search engines, but there were no Amber Alerts issued or reports of runaways that coincided or were close to the date of Melvin’s accident,” Sam said. She hesitantly added, “I did find one thing.…”
“What?” Leigh Ann asked. Seeing the worried look on Sam’s face, she added, “You can tell me anything. Don’t feel you have to hold back.”
“It’s a detail about Melvin’s first accident. I’d gone back quite a ways before I stumbled on it, and you probably already know about this, but…”
“First accident? You’ve lost me,” Leigh Ann said.
“When Melvin was fifteen, he and his family were in a bad car accident,” Sam said, then paused as Jo came into the room. When both Leigh Ann and Jo nodded, the younger woman continued. “According to the reports, Melvin’s dad was driving. It was pitch black outside, and as the car rounded a curve they came across two deer crossing the highway. His father swerved instinctively, lost control, and rolled the car. It went through a fence before it came to a stop,” Sam said. “His parents both survived, though they were badly injured. Melvin only had a few cuts and bruises, but his twin sister, who’d been sitting right beside him, was impaled by one of the metal fence posts. She died.”
Leigh Ann stared at her in horror. “Melvin never said a word to me about any of this,” she managed at last. “Are you sure you’ve got the right family?”
“I found it in the Diné Times, the reservation newspaper. Melvin’s last name showed up in his sister’s obituary.”
“I had no idea,” Leigh Ann said, sitting down, knowing that this tragedy had probably made his recent accident just that much more difficult to handle.
“Maybe Melvin just doesn’t want to talk about the dead,” Sam said, “especially when it’s someone who was that close.”
Jo nodded. “That’s a valid reason, but this could go beyond not wanting to call his sister’s chindi. This kind of incident opens itself to some other very bad interpretations.”
Sam looked at Jo. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that. It’s the main reason I wasn’t sure I should even bring it up.”
“Guys, I need to know,” Leigh Ann said. “What’s the problem?”
Sam excused herself, then Jo asked Leigh Ann to follow her into her office. After she closed the door, both women sat down. “Skinwalkers, Navajo witches, are very different from the modern Wiccan witches you have probably heard of.”
Leigh Ann nodded and Jo went on. “Skinwalkers are feared and despised. One of the ways a Navajo skinwalker is said to gain his powers is by taking the life of a relative.”
“But it was clearly an accident, and Melvin wasn’t even driving,” Leigh Ann said.
“What might have fueled some whispers among traditional Navajos was the fact that Melvin came through almost unscathed.”
“He got lucky,” Leigh Ann said defensively.
“Some beliefs are hard to brush aside,” Jo said softly.
Leigh Ann nodded and swallowed hard. “He never told me.” She shouldn’t have been disappointed, she already knew he was a man of secrets, but her heart felt as heavy as a rock.
“Sometimes things are just too painful to talk about, Leigh Ann. Don’t assume that a lack of trust is the reason he never spoke about it,” Jo said, as if reading her mind.
Leigh Ann didn’t answer. Melvin and she were allies, but ones with pasts shrouded in long shadows. He was heavily burdened with guilt and other issues, and now, as of yesterday, she had a new secret that could tear them apart. Once he knew that secret, would Melvin be able to live with it, or would it break them apart for good?
* * *
The sandwich sign announcing the coffee bar might have done the trick, since Leigh Ann noticed an increase in walk-in traffic throughout the morning. Although several people came in just for coffee or an espresso, a good percentage made an additional purchase. Three people asked about Melvin’s sculptures and took one of the fliers Samantha had printed up.
It was a little past eleven when Jo approached Leigh Ann, who was working the front register. “The next time you talk to Melvin, find out how he feels about letting the trading post place a regular monthly order for say, two small sculptures—he picks the subject. We buy them outright and resell them here. He’d have a certain amount of money coming in regularly, instead of having to wait for a commission, and I think we can easily sell two pieces a month based on recent history.”
“I’ll ask,” Leigh Ann said. “It’s time for my lunch. I’ve got the early time slot today.”
“Go. I’ll take over here.”
Leigh Ann’s cell phone rang as she headed for her Jeep, intent on driving to Total Supply. Recognizing Melvin’s ring tone, she fished it out of her pocket and answered, promising herself she wouldn’t ask him about that first accident. “Hi, Melvin.”
“Are you on your way to Total Supply?” he asked.
“I’m just leaving the trading post now.”
“You sound tense,” he said.
She muttered a soft curse. Her mood had given her away. “I’m okay, just thinking ahead.”
“Be careful what you say,” he said. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be better if I came along?”
“No, unless I’m alone, Wayne will tense up and I won’t learn anything. I’m going to appeal to him from the standpoint of someone who knows what it’s like to get swept into something and suddenly find you’re in way over your head.”
He didn’t answer right away. “That might work,” he said at last. “But I still wish you’d take someone as backup. Isn’t Ambrose there? He’s staying with Jo, right?”
“Don’t worry, I can handle this. I know what I’m doing,” she said, try
ing to sound confident.
“It’s hard to predict what others will do, Leigh Ann, even the ones we know best.”
He couldn’t possibly know why she’d reacted like she did after seeing Ronald Jonas’s photo, but what if he suspected she knew about his twin’s death? He’d given Sam permission to dig into his past. Maybe he hoped it would all come out. Either way, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring it up. She’d wait for him to broach the subject first.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” she said.
As she placed the phone back inside her shirt pocket, her thoughts remained on Melvin. Sooner or later, she’d have to tell him about her newly discovered connection with Ronald Jonas, and the role she’d played in the accident that had claimed his sight. He’d spoken of the price attached to failure, and how vulnerable that fear could make you feel. She understood that now, but to do the right thing, she’d have to risk it all.
Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with him, hard, which meant she couldn’t let any secrets form a wall between them. She knew from her own marriage how deception and betrayal could destroy lives.
* * *
Leigh Ann saw Pierre walking through the Total Supply back lot as she pulled up. She hung back, hoping he was heading for his vehicle. Catching Wayne alone would give her a slight advantage. He was never as guarded when Pierre wasn’t there. Leigh Ann parked behind a large, extended cab truck and watched Pierre climb into a new-looking silver SUV. Moments later, he drove out of the parking area, heading east toward Farmington.
She breathed a sigh of relief. So far, luck was on her side. She went inside, glanced around, and through a large glass partition saw Wayne at his desk. There was only one salesperson on the floor and he was with a customer, looking at some metal fence hardware. Leigh Ann went around the counter and straight to Wayne’s office.
He looked up when she knocked and gave her a tentative smile. “Hi, Leigh Ann. You’re here about the squirrel trap? I’m afraid the one that arrived turned out to be damaged. We didn’t notice until you’d already been contacted. I’m sorry for the delay. I ordered a replacement and we should have it in a few more days. I’ll call you when it comes in, okay?”
“Thanks,” Leigh Ann said. “Do you have a moment? I need to talk to you about Kurt.”
His expression went from harried to somber and he cleared his throat. “I see,” he managed, his voice sounding strained. “Have a seat. Do you want something to drink?” he asked, clearing his throat again while going to a small fridge in the corner. “Water? Soda?”
“No, I’m good,” Leigh Ann said. She waited for him to sit down again, noting that he’d looked around the room first, as if checking to see who might be listening. “Wayne, I know what’s going on. Navajo officials are being paid kickbacks for making sure tribal contracts are awarded to Total Supply. I have reason to believe this has been going on for some time, and that Kurt took part, too.”
“What? Where did you get a wild story like that?” he asked, glancing toward the clerk tending to the customer.
His tone conveyed fear, not surprise. Wayne was a bad actor, which spurred her to press on.
“Kurt kept a list of tribal officials, probably those who were involved, or else potential targets. Lewis Sorrelhorse’s name was at the top. I’ve got a reliable witness who overheard Sorrelhorse talking to someone from Total Supply about how much a new contract might be worth.”
Wayne turned pale.
“That someone was you, Wayne. Remember, you even honked your horn and waved to me when we were both leaving the tribal offices.”
“Leigh Ann, you have no idea what you’re getting into,” he whispered. “Walk away from this. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. The cops think I had something to do with Kurt’s death, that I was his partner in crime. I’m innocent and I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove it.”
“Leigh Ann, go back to work, or go home. So far you’ve been lucky, but don’t keep pushing. Actions have consequences.”
“I’m not backing off. Kurt’s murder and the kickbacks are connected and I’m going to find out how.”
Hearing Pierre’s voice outside, Wayne tensed up even more. “I can’t talk to you about this,” he said, almost in desperation.
“Then maybe I should ask Pierre,” she said, wishing he’d stayed away longer. She was sure Wayne would have told her more if given the time.
“Listen to me good, Leigh Ann. Pierre’s convinced that you’ve got the money Kurt stole from us and, to him, you’re already a liability. Stop causing trouble and lay low. That’s your only chance. I can’t protect you any longer.”
Hearing the door opening up front, Wayne changed the subject instantly. “The replacement trap is being shipped priority, and I’ll check to make sure it’s in good working condition this time before we give you a call.”
“Hey, you two,” Pierre greeted, coming into the office, holding what looked like a stack of mail in his hand. “What’s going on?”
“Leigh Ann dropped by to check on that squirrel trap, the one we had to reorder.”
Someone called Pierre’s name, and he turned to see a man in the back holding a clipboard. Pierre waved. “That’s Ralph from the feedlot. I’ve got to go again. Good to see you, Leigh Ann.”
As Pierre walked off, Leigh Ann met Wayne’s gaze. “Wayne, you’re a good man. After Kurt passed away you made sure I was handling it. You even helped me with the life insurance forms and made me a good offer on Kurt’s share of the business. There’s no way I’m going to believe you’re a willing part of whatever’s going on over here. I think that you’re caught up in something that’s spinning out of control. Help me set things right. Don’t let Pierre pull you down with him.”
“Leigh Ann, there are some powerful people involved, the kind who are very bad enemies.”
“To stop the ones who are already coming after me, I need to know what’s going on. This isn’t about calling the police—this is about staying alive. Help me, please?”
Wayne stared at his desk, lost in thought. “Okay,” he finally responded, resignation in his tone. “We should talk, but not here.” He looked at a big wall clock. “Meet me in twenty minutes over by the old red barn off of Orchard Road, the one with the roof that’s caving in. It’s south of the highway, this side of Waterflow.”
“Just past the casino billboard?”
“Yeah, that one. Park beside the barn and I’ll meet you there on my lunch break. And don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
Leigh Ann gave Pierre—who was outside next to a truckload of water troughs—a cheery wave as she crossed the parking lot. By the time she got into the Jeep, her hands were shaking. She hugged her purse close, the weight of the .38 revolver making her feel less vulnerable. She was close to finding answers, she could feel it, but danger was also closing in fast.
She drove for a few minutes before she pulled off the highway to call Melvin. She quickly filled him in on what had happened. “I’m on my way to meet Wayne now.”
“I don’t like this, Leigh Ann. It has a bad smell.”
“No, I understand Wayne. He’s just scared. Talking to me for more than a minute or two would have flagged Pierre for sure.”
“Wayne’s hip deep in this and you know it. I’m betting he was the man who cleared out Kurt’s storage locker.”
“Wayne’s involved, no doubt about that, but I also think he’d like to find a way out.”
“And you’re willing to bet your life on that? At least call your cousin Dale.”
“He’s turned everything over to McGraw, and the police still don’t trust me, not completely anyway. I have to see this through. This might be my only chance to uncover the truth.”
“I guess I’ll see you when you get back to the trading post. You can tell me about it then,” Melvin said.
“You’re at The Outpost now?”
“Yeah. I finished the sculpture and Jo
hn gave me a ride in. Jo called to talk business but it was easier to cover everything face-to-face. It also allowed me to sign my new agreement with The Outpost immediately.”
“All right then. I shouldn’t be long. See you later.”
“Be very careful.”
Less than ten minutes later she pulled up by the barn. Wayne was nowhere in sight, but he’d said to give him twenty minutes. She sat back to wait, making sure her phone was nestled safely in her shirt pocket, set to record.
Before long, Wayne’s red pickup came up the dirt road. Once he parked in the shade next to Leigh Ann’s Jeep, she climbed out and walked up to his open driver’s side window, purse in hand, the .38 within reach, if necessary. Her phone was recording now.
“All right, Wayne. I’m here. Now what’s going on?”
“You have no idea what you’re stirring up, Leigh Ann,” he blurted out in anger. “Kurt set up a phony vendor, Frank Jones, and was bleeding our company. When Pierre noticed there was no inventory from Jones, he gave the vendor a call and discovered that the number was out of service. An Internet aerial map search for the listed business address showed a vacant lot.
“Kurt was handling the account exclusively, sending company checks to a mail service address. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on,” Wayne added bitterly.
“Did Pierre confront Kurt?” she asked.
“Not at first.” Wayne took a nervous look down the highway in both directions, then climbed out of the pickup and stood with her beside the Jeep, arms across his chest. “He staked out the UPS store and saw Kurt picking up the checks. Pierre had him then, but he and I talked about it and decided to confront Kurt during our hunting trip. A private meeting on neutral ground sounded like a good idea. All we were planning to do was force Kurt to pay back the money, but things got crazy.”
“What happened?” Leigh Ann asked, grateful for having brought the revolver with her. If Wayne admitted to murder, she’d become an instant loose end and she doubted he’d let her just walk away. Maybe she should have followed Melvin’s advice after all and brought backup.