Bone Walker: Book III of the Anasazi Mysteries (56 page)

Read Bone Walker: Book III of the Anasazi Mysteries Online

Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear,W. Michael Gear

BOOK: Bone Walker: Book III of the Anasazi Mysteries
7.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Hi, Dusty.” She walked over and climbed the aluminum steps. Inside it was warm and the air smelled of coffee and green chili.
Sylvia and Michall sat on the foldout couch up front. Maureen and Yvette were in the booth. Maggie could tell Yvette had been crying. Her eyes were swollen and her face puffy. “Hello,” Maggie greeted, taking in the sister who had just magically appeared in Dusty’s life. It would never cease to amaze her that Whites treated relatives so cavalierly.
She has a wounded soul. Be wary until you know what she is.
The words popped into her head, as if whispered from another place. Was that Grandmother Slumber’s voice?
Dusty said, “What can I get you to drink, Maggie?”
Maggie looked around, confused by what she had just heard. Maureen and Yvette had coffee. Dusty clutched a half-empty bottle of Guinness and Sylvia had her traditional Coors Light. Michall held a can of cherry soda.
“Coffee would be great.” Maggie slid into the booth near Maureen. Her nerves were humming. Was her grandmother trying to warn her from the other world?
“So, are we all under arrest?” Dusty asked as he poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of Maggie.
“Not yet,” she told him. “Rupert’s on his way back. I called him on his cell phone. Got him out of a life-or-death budget meeting. He said he’d explain the situation to the deputy director and catch the first flight he could.”
Maggie turned to Sylvia. “You okay after Agent Nichols put the screws to you?”
Sylvia nodded, her face pale. “Can you believe that guy? God, he took me into that conference room and I thought I was in the hands of the Gestapo. He must have spent every dime the Bureau has to rake up all those nasty things from my childhood. God, you’d think I’d killed Dale, the way he was asking questions.”
“It’s all right,” Michall soothed, reaching out and punching Sylvia’s shoulder. “I told him if you’d done it, the skull would have exhibited blunt-force trauma—I also told him where to find your baseball bat.”
“Thanks,” Sylvia said. “That’s all I need. The FBI looking under my pillow.”
Michall jiggled her half-empty soda can. “That was a grueling experience, answering all those questions. Nichols kept staring at me with that funny eye of his. I thought my oral exams were tough. After what he put me through this morning, my Ph.D. dissertation defense is going to be a piece of cake.”
“What about you?” Dusty asked, and pinned Maggie with tired blue eyes. “Did Nichols take a chunk out of your hide, too?”
She nodded. “I just got out of my ‘interview.’ Once he established that I didn’t know Hawsworth, he seemed to lose interest in me, but he sure quizzed me about you.”
Dusty pulled back in mock surprise. “You mean he
thinks I have a motive? Just because Hawsworth rain off with my mother and ruined my life?”
“It always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?” Yvette asked.
Maggie cocked her head. “Are you
really
Dusty’s sister?”
She studied Maggie through eyes that looked fragile. “Same mother,” she said in a small voice.
“You have my condolences,” Maggie said before sipping coffee. Then she added, “The reason I’m here, outside of the good coffee, is that Agent Nichols has a dilemma.”
“No shit,” Sylvia said. “For one thing, I’m out of here! I have just established new standards for my work. I won’t excavate any kiva unless the bodies have been dead for at least a week.”
“Damn straight,” Michall agreed. “Sylvia and I talked it over. We’re leaving tonight.”
“That’s part of Nichols’s dilemma.” Maggie cradled her coffee, grateful for the warmth on her fingers. “He’s more convinced than ever that the site needs to be dug, that some important clue is there. His problem is that each of you are now potential suspects.”
“So,” Dusty finished, “where’s he going to find a crew?”
Maggie tilted her head uncertainly. “I told him that if he doesn’t get it dug in the next couple of weeks, the frost is going to make it impossible for him to finish the excavation before spring.” She took a deep breath. “I asked him to call Steve.”
Dusty nodded. “Good choice. If Steve can find a crew.”
“He’s bringing four graduate students, leaving this afternoon from Tucson. He says he’ll be here in the morning.” She winced. “Dusty, I went out on a limb and told him he could use your equipment. Is that all right?”
“You were worried about that?” Then he nodded,
eyes warming. “Of course you were. I’m not thinking straight. I’ll gladly loan him my equipment, unless Nichols thinks my equipment will bias the investigation.”
Maggie stared into the depths of her coffee. Her grandmother had once told her that Dreamers could see things in black liquids. “Dusty, I need to check on Aunt Sage, but I’m in charge while Rupert’s in Washington. I can’t go. I have a terrible favor to ask. Would you mind—?”
“Not at all,” he cut her off. “I’ll leave as soon as we eat. Are you up for burritos?”
Maggie smiled her relief. “Sure. I haven’t eaten since six A.M. I’m starved.” She added, “Thank you, Dusty. I’ve just got a bad feeling, that’s all.”
The faint voices, barely audible in her mind, whispered in assent.
 
 
CATKIN SPREAD HER feet, her eyes on the rooftop kiva entry.
It took ten heartbeats.
Shadow emerged from the kiva like First Woman from the underworlds. As she climbed onto the roof and looked around, the wind pressed her soft white dress against her perfect body. Turquoise, coral, and jet beads were woven into her shining black hair. An inhuman gleam filled her black eyes. She moved with the grace of a mountain lion in the rocks, sinuous and sure, each motion fluid.
She smiled when she walked up to Browser, and Catkin’s arm muscles tensed, ready.
Browser didn’t even flinch as Shadow’s slim fingers ran along his chin. Gods, how could he do that? Catkin would have been cringing under that witch’s faintest touch.
In a soft sensual voice, Shadow said, “Two Hearts has a bargain for you, War Chief.”
“What is it?”
Shadow spread her arms to the warriors below and Browser’s own warriors on the rooftops. “All of this was orchestrated just for you, War Chief—your journey from Flowing Waters Town, your stay in Kettle Town, your ‘attack’ on us here at Owl House, everything was designed just to get you here today. Isn’t it lovely? Aren’t you pleased?”
Browser shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“You simple fool! Two Hearts brought you here because he wishes
your
heart.”
Browser’s hand involuntarily went to his chest. “My heart?”
“Of course. You are both descended from the Blessed Night Sun. You are one of his relatives, and you are a strong young man. Your heart is much better than my sister’s feeble heart.”
Catkin’s stomach turned. She took a step forward with the intent of bashing in the woman’s skull.
Browser lifted a hand to stop her. To Shadow, he said, “You are a liar.”
“I am?” Shadow raised a slim eyebrow.
Browser smiled grimly. “You never planned to sacrifice the White Moccasins in a fruitless battle. Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t think it would be easier to simply surround me in Kettle Town, thus saving your warriors and lessening the risk that I might just burn you alive in Owl House and figure on fighting my way out?”
Her eyes had narrowed. “Nevertheless, we brought you here and Two Hearts will have your heart.”
“What does Two Hearts offer in return?”
Shadow laughed softly as she walked around Browser. Her white dress conformed to each curve of her lithe body and swirled about her sandaled feet. “You are surrounded. If you fight, you will surely all be killed.” She aimed a slender finger at Catkin. “Including the woman you love. So think carefully before you give me your answer.”
Browser looked at Catkin with his whole heart in his dark eyes.
“Yes,” Shadow hissed in Browser’s ear. “I will roast her alive and feed her body to my daughter, then—”
“I ask one thing,” Browser said a little too quickly.
Shadow stopped. “Name it.”
Before he answered, Browser met the eyes of every warrior, and took a long look at Stone Ghost. “If you will allow everyone else to leave, I will willingly lay down my weapons and be your prisoner.”
Catkin stared, speechless. A hoarse chuckle, followed by a cough, came from inside the kiva.
Shadow studied Browser with luminous eyes. After a moment, she stepped over to the kiva wall and looked down the slope to where the White Moccasins waited. “Thorn Fox! Most of these people will be leaving. They are to be allowed safe passage up the Great North Road. You will detail one warrior to follow them and make sure it is so.”
“Yes, Blessed Shadow,” Thorn Fox called back.
The form of address sickened Catkin’s souls.
Blessed Shadow?
Shadow stepped back to Browser’s side and said, “You have the wolf? That was not a lie?”
Browser touched the bulge sewn into the hem of his war shirt.
“You will have to give it up,” Shadow told him.
“Then he is that close to death?” Browser asked.
“He is.” Shadow paused, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Just in case your heart is not enough to save him, he must have a Spirit Helper to guide him through the underworlds.”
“And afterward,” Browser asked. “What of the leadership of the White Moccasins?”
Catkin’s gaze went from Browser’s face to Shadow’s, and back again. Had Browser lost his mind? She kept trying to fathom his plan. He must have one. What could it be?
Shadow moved forward until her breasts touched Browser’s chest. “Leadership will pass to the man I choose.” Then she turned abruptly and climbed down like a serpent into the kiva.
Catkin crossed the space in two strides. “What are you doing—”
Browser’s sharp gesture stopped her short. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Take everyone north to Flowing Waters Town and rejoin the Katsinas’ People.”
Catkin began a protest when Browser shot a meaningful glance toward the kiva entrance. She didn’t need to look to understand that Shadow’s head must have been just below the roofline, listening.
“War Chief, as your deputy—”
“I’m sorry, Catkin. I can’t let you die. And you know that’s what will happen.”
“Browser, for the sake of the gods, let’s fight!”
“No, Catkin. This is best for everyone.” His eyes burned into hers, emphasizing his meaning. “You were right earlier. One life is not worth ten.”
What in the name of the monsters of the underworlds was he doing? She searched his face.
“Browser? Please, don’t do this, I can’t—”
“By doing this, I have given you extra time and I expect you to be a better War Chief than I have been. Remember, the roundabout way is often better than a direct assault against superior numbers. Victory goes to those who are swiftest, and allies can appear from
the most unexpected places.” He smiled, touched her face lightly with a gentle finger, and ordered, “Now go.
Quickly!”
“No, Browser, please—”
“Do not disgrace me in front of others by disobedience.”
Shadow appeared on the ladder a moment before Obsidian did.
In the light, they might have been identical but for the curious sheen in Obsidian’s eyes. She wore a tan cotton shift that was loose, smudged, but her glossy hair hung to her waist. She cast a sad look at Browser, a wistful longing in her eyes. She walked up to him, saying, “Don’t you wish now that you had taken me away? None of this would have had to happen.”
Browser’s lips curled. “You didn’t have to join them. I would have seen to your safety.”
She shrugged. “They are my family, Browser. My People. I made my own bargain with them. Your heart instead of mine. I’m the one who sent Old Pigeontail this morning.”
Shadow told Obsidian, “Go down and wait with Thorn Fox’s warriors where you will be safe, Sister. I’ll call you when we are ready for the ritual feast.”
Obsidian gave Browser a seductive smile as she passed, and Catkin took a step, her war club raised.
Browser gripped her shoulder and pulled her back, whispering, “Catkin, go
now!
You may not have much time.”
She swallowed hard and met Browser’s eyes one last time. Perhaps if she just looked at him long enough, she would understand his plan. Surely he had a plan. Browser would not just offer himself up like a sacrificial deer! She whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you at Flowing Waters Town.”
He nodded. “All right. Yes, if I can. Now, go. Hurry. And leave Horned Ram.”
Catkin gave him one last incredulous look, then gestured to the warriors on the rooftops. “Come. Let’s get out of here!”
Her heart hammered like a foot drum on dance night as the Mogollon filled off the roofs and came toward her in a murmuring knot. Disbelief strained their features. White Cone seemed the most baffled of all of them.
“You heard the War Chief,” she ordered. “Let’s go.”
She started down the hill but Stone Ghost’s voice stopped her.
The old man called, “I’m staying.”
“No!” Browser shouted, and whirled to look at the old white-haired man. “Uncle, please.”
To Catkin, Stone Ghost said, “Tell Matron Cloudblower we wish her well in her search for the First People’s original kiva.”
Rain Crow appeared on the roof above, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Sweat coated his pain-racked face. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I will be staying also, War Chief. I will just slow Catkin down.”
Browser hesitated only a moment, and Catkin swore she saw a slight smile on his lips as he waved Catkin away. “Go on! Leave!”
Catkin led the way out of Owl House and down the slope.
They passed unmolested through the ranks of the White Moccasins, and at the last opportunity, she looked back. Browser and Stone Ghost watched from the kiva roof. Shadow and Thorn Fox stood a short distance away, their heads together, as though in deep conversation.
Rain Crow perched on the roof, like a lonely owl waiting for night to fly far away.
What just happened there? Why don’t I understand what Browser’s doing?
 
 
“I KNOW IT’S here somewhere,” Dusty said as he peered at the weed-filled fence line that bordered the road. He drove slowly on the asphalt, looking for a break that would mark the two-track dirt road leading to Sage Walking Hawk’s home.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Yvette leaned forward anxiously in the backseat. “You say she’s dying?”
“Breast cancer,” Maureen answered. “I think the gene runs in the family.”
“Nasty lot that. Maggie seems like a gem.”
“She’s a good friend,” Dusty said. The glow of the Bronco’s instruments seemed dimmer tonight than usual. He probably needed a new battery, as well as a new truck, but both would have to wait. “We’ve seen a lot of tough times together.”
Yvette was silent for a moment. “You’ve a great many friends, don’t you, Dusty?”
“No, not really. A few good friends. I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
“That’s a gift, you know.”
“You don’t have many friends?” Maureen asked.
“I grew up in a different world,” Yvette said bitterly. “If you value friends, God help you if come into money. Old companions vanish overnight. Everything changes.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never had that problem.” Dusty pulled over onto the shoulder of the road as a pickup appeared out of the night and sped past them with the engine roaring. It careered down the road in front of them.
“One really pissed Native, I’d say,” Yvette commented. “I hope he makes it home.”
Dusty pulled onto the asphalt again. Drunk drivers
were common out here, especially right after payday on the first of the month, but he hadn’t liked Yvette’s tone. It was superior, as though she’d seen too many TV shows about reservation Indians.
Maureen seemed to sense Dusty’s discomfort. She turned around to look at Yvette. “You’ve had a tough day. How are you faring?”
Yvette shook her head and ash-blond hair fell into her eyes. Dusty watched her brush it away through the rearview mirror. She said, “Stunned.”
“I’m sure,” Maureen said gently. “He was your father.”
“Is that what he was?” Yvette said, and when Dusty and Maureen didn’t answer right away, she continued, “He was a cold man. Somehow I ended up in no-man’s-land between him and Mum.” Her face twisted. “But he deserved better than that. Oh, dear, I swore I’d not break down and bawl like a babe.”
Dusty said, “There’s a roll of toilet paper in the bag under my seat, if you need it.”
“Thank you,” she said in a slightly stronger voice. “Both of you. For letting me tag along these last couple of days.”
Dusty slowed at the break in the fence. In the distance, off to the right, a yard light illuminated the dilapidated old trailer nestled at the mouth of the side canyon. Dusty turned and rattled over the cattle guard onto the track.
Yvette hesitated for a moment, gazing at the rusty car bodies and trash that hunkered in the weeds, then said, “I truly can’t believe people live like this. It’s barbaric.”
“Barbaric?” Dusty asked, and gave her a curious look over his shoulder. “Living in a place where you can hear coyotes howl and eagles cry? Where you can walk for days without seeing another human being? Personally,” he said as he shifted gears, “I think city life is barbaric. Hundreds of thousands of people per
square mile, living on top of each other? God, how do you live like that? It’s not even
human.”
He pulled up in front of the trailer house, shut off the Bronco, and turned off the lights. As he opened the door, he said, “We don’t knock on doors in this part of the world, so just do what I do. It’s considered polite to give the people inside time to prepare before they open the door.”

Other books

Naked Empire by Terry Goodkind
Steel's Edge by Ilona Andrews
Intercourse by Andrea Dworkin
Colour Me Undead by Mikela Q. Chase
Prometheus Road by Balfour, Bruce
The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare
Cautious by Nelson, Elizabeth
My Favorite Mistake by Georgina Bloomberg, Catherine Hapka