Shadow Walker (7 page)

Seven

looked at the destruction of nine months’ worth of work. The electricity still functioned upstairs, but Maya showed me stripped and corroded wires, strangely rigged splices, and entire junctions dead.

“I didn’t do this,” Maya wailed. “Someone sabotaged me.” She started up in Spanish again, calling the unknown person a string of filthy names.

Fremont was quieter but just as angry. He removed a panel to show me pipes coated with rust and green corrosion. He also pointed out mold rotting the studs and beams that held up the hotel.

“We gotta replace everything,” Fremont said. “All the plumbing plus the infrastructure, or the whole building is going to come down.”

Maya was right—this was new. Last May, I’d followed the former inspector all over the hotel while he’d gone through his meticulous checklist. Everything had been in pristine condition. There was no way we could have had such deterioration in nine months.

“Did we have leaks? Faulty joints—something?”

Fremont looked indignant. “Not with my plumbing. I used all new piping and the most effective sealant. Plus a little of this.” He wriggled his fingers.

Fremont fancied himself a mage, and he did have a tiny bit of magic in him, but not enough to have done this much damage even if his spells had backfired.

“And I’d never have done anything like
that
.” Maya pointed to a knot of wire that looked as though it could burst into flame any moment. “That’s plain shoddy workmanship.”

“Are you two saying someone came down here and rewired and replumbed my hotel?” I asked. “Incompetently? While no one noticed?”

Maya’s dark eyes smoldered. “We’re saying
we
didn’t do this. We’re saying we’re better than this, but if you don’t believe us . . .”

I held up my hand. “No, no. I believe you.”

This was Magellan, a town that had been built close to vortexes, which were swirling sinks of magic. Who knew what kind of mystical energy flowed through the ground, not to mention the water? A strange kind of spell could have reversed everything they’d done.

“It makes me look incompetent,” Maya said. “A stupid woman trying to do a man’s job.”

I studied the mess behind the panel, knowing that the entire basement probably looked like this. “I know you didn’t do this, Maya, don’t worry. But it doesn’t matter. Whoever did this—I need you to fix it and fix it fast.”

“A week, you said,” Maya answered. “This is a month’s worth of work and more.”

Fremont agreed. “I need to get more supplies, and then I’ll have to rip out everything. You’ll have to tell your guests they won’t have any water or electrics for days.”

Damn it. “That means I’ll have to close. Perfect.”

No guests meant no income. I had insurance, but I didn’t think it covered magical weirdness ruining the infrastructure.

“I can pay you double,” I said. I couldn’t pay them much at all, but I was desperate.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fremont said. “More money won’t make time stand still so we can get it done.”

“Hire more people to help you, as many as it takes,” I said recklessly. “I’ll buy the supplies and pay up when it’s all done.” My mind whirled—I’d have to sell more photographs, maybe go down to the bank and try to get a loan. There were programs for Indians and women-owned businesses—who knew what I might be able to get?

And maybe, just maybe, I could talk to Ted and get him to extend me another week. I’d promise to have it all done perfectly, if only he would give me a little more time. Maybe I should have Mick talk to him with me. The sight of Mick’s muscles might persuade him.

Except Mick had torn out of here in a rage. I had no idea where I could find him, or even whether he wanted to be found.

“Start,” I said to Maya and Fremont. “Do whatever you can. Please.”

Maya gave me a skeptical look, but she began touching insulated wires and tracing things with a professional eye.

Fremont settled his cap. “Got a good-for-nothing nephew who needs to learn a trade. I’ll bring him on for free.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted a disgruntled young man working on my plumbing, but I might not have much choice. Maya and Fremont turned away to get on with their assessment, and I left them to it.

Outside, the big crow that liked to keep an eye on me perched in the juniper near the edge of my parking lot. She cocked her head and gave me an admonishing look, but I didn’t have time for her right now.

I asked Cassandra for a loan of her car, not wanting to impede Fremont’s getting on with the repairs. My plan to talk to Jamison about the mysterious glyphs and skeletal hands would have to wait. First I needed to tackle Ted. I didn’t enjoy the thought of begging and pleading with him, but again, I didn’t have much choice.

Black clouds were forming to the north, rolling down from the mountains and highlands to the plateau on which Magellan lay. The growing wind had an icy bite, which meant there would be snow before dark. Swirls of wind danced in my fingers as I drove the twenty miles to Flat Mesa.

By the time I reached Ted Wingate’s office, I was giddy with the storm, wanting it to come down so I could play. I held it together and entered the small county building that wasn’t far from the sheriff’s office.

The receptionist looked up from her computer and told me listlessly that Mr. Wingate was busy, and I’d have to wait. I hadn’t sat long in the uncomfortable plastic chair, though, when Ted himself walked down the hall to greet me.

He smiled a broad smile, his teeth very straight and white in his tanned face. He should be out playing golf on some high-priced golf course, not carrying a clipboard through the linoleum-tiled halls of a county office.

“Ms. Begay,” he said, sounding happy to see me. “How are you? Let’s talk in my office.”

Ted’s office was sparse and lacked personality. The desk and chairs were gunmetal gray, and the only things on the walls were official certificates of training and licenses Ted had received. The white metal window blind was raised a precise one-quarter of the way, an angle that shut out the enormous and beautiful sky in favor of a slice of parking lot.

Ted’s smile held as I put in my plea for more time.

“Not possible,” he said. “I’m on a deadline too, Ms. Begay.”

“What deadline? I had to pass inspection to open, but even then the county didn’t give me a deadline. I just couldn’t open until I passed.”

Ted leaned against the edge of his desk. His light brown eyes set off his tan, as did his white polo shirt.

“Well, you see, little gal, that hotel is sitting on prime real estate. If the county seizes the property, we can sell it for a pretty penny. Hopi County can always use money. Now, I wouldn’t want to see this happen to you.” He set the clipboard on the desk with a decisive click. “I want to help you keep your cozy hotel, I really do. But the county says that if it’s not up to code by end of next week, I have to shut it down.”

“I have a team working on it.” My mouth hurt as I said it.

Ted’s smile widened. “I’m sure you do, sweetie. I’m sure you do. I’m not your enemy, you know. I’ve always liked Indians, and I want to see them catch a break after so many years of oppression. What can I do to help you out?”

If he were so sympathetic, why did his sympathy grate on my nerves? People existed who really did want to help Native Americans, some of them not very effectual, some clueless and doing more harm than good, but many were well-meaning and even kind. Ted, however, was in the condescending, what-will-make-me-look-good class.

“Give me another month,” I said. “That would help.”

“Now, that I
can’t
do. Although . . .” Ted stepped around me and shut the door, giving me a furtive wink in the process. “Maybe we can talk. My job gives me some pull.” He brushed by me again to close the blinds all the way. He smelled of fresh soap and toothpaste, not bad smells, but for some reason I didn’t like them.

“My electrician showed me where the wiring has been sabotaged,” I said, folding my arms. “I don’t know who did that, and I don’t know how, but I know she didn’t do it.”

I’d have suspected Ted himself, but the extent of the damage was vast and would have taken a long time. Someone would have noticed Ted repeatedly trotting down to my basement. No, something else was going on.

“I can’t give you more time,” Ted said. “Honestly I can’t. But maybe, you know, when I come back to inspect next week, I can cut you some slack.”

Again with the winking. Did he know how annoying that was?

Winter wind struck the building with a crash, rattling the window panes and howling around the eaves. Wind danced in my fingers, and I closed my fists to contain it.

“Sounds like a nice storm brewing,” Ted said. “So, how about it, little gal? Want me to help you out?”

I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he’d help me out of the goodness of his heart. “In exchange for what?”

Another wink. “You know, we could be friends, Janet.
Good
friends.”

The tips of my fingers began to crackle. “A free drink in my saloon?” I asked, letting the sarcasm drip. “Or a room for any friends and relatives who want to visit?”

Ted chuckled. “Your hotel isn’t exactly four-star accommodations, and my family are too citified to come to a godforsaken place like Magellan. I was thinking something a little more . . . personal.” He stopped an inch in front of me, smarmy smile and all.

I’d known damn well what he was getting at. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come on, little gal. You’re a cute thing, and my wife, she’s always busy. So busy, you wouldn’t believe it. If you keep me satisfied, I’ll make sure your hotel will pass its inspection.”

He closed his hands over my wrists. I tried to yank away, but he held me fast. His face was coming down to mine, his mouth open. He had to be crazy. All I had to do was mention this incident to Mick, and Ted would be toast.

I fought, but Ted slammed me against him, arms around my back. His breath was minty fresh, but I didn’t want it mingling with mine.

“Let go of me.” I tried to shout, but Ted slapped a hand over my mouth.

“No you don’t, little gal. You make my cock happy, or I shut you down. Your choice.”

The arm at my back was iron hard, Ted’s hand over my mouth biting into my face. He knew how to pin me—his body held me in place as he thrust his hand up the back of my shirt.

No one can say I didn’t give him a chance. I really, really gave him every opportunity to let me go.

Ted’s hand still covered my mouth, but I didn’t need to speak. I reached for the snowstorm, smiling as wind and ice surged through my body.

My blood burned with cold, my skin goose-bumped, and I exhaled frost. Ted’s eyes widened as my frozen breath coated his hand; they widened more when I reached up and touched his face.

Ice.

Ted yelled and shoved me away. He stared in blank astonishment as the walls of his office iced over, and snow started falling inside.

I gathered ice in my hands, whirling it around and around my cupped palms while Ted watched in horror. Faster and faster the ice shards flew, and then I released them.

Ted screamed and threw up his arms. The icicles hit him, cutting his face, and the window shattered behind him. Wind exploded through the office, whirling up a cyclone of papers, glass, snow, and ice.

I ducked past Ted and ran out. Ted screamed and cursed behind me, his face dripping blood. The receptionist sprang up in alarm, and I shouted at her as I ran past.

“The storm broke the window. It’s a mess in there, and Ted’s hurt. Get some help!”

The receptionist dashed to Ted’s office, and I ran out and leapt into Cassandra’s car. Wind and snow slapped it, but I spun out of the parking lot and sped out to the open highway to Magellan.

Straight into a whiteout.

I slowed as the wash of snow met the windshield, the wind pushing and buffeting Cassandra’s tiny car.

I laughed out loud. The storm was still whirling within me, me part of it. I lapped up the elements and danced in them. I was the goddess of ice and wind and I loved it.

My golden brown skin was turning pale, my lips blue, but I felt no cold. I beheld my strange face in the mirror, my eyes burning with fire in the middle of the cold.

I slowed the car to a crawl but didn’t stop. I knew mine was the only vehicle on the road—I’d noted that before the world had gone white. No one else was stupid enough to be driving out here.

But I could sense the road beneath me, its cold texture different from the soft pockets of desert to either side. I was doing fine, singing in Navajo at the top of my voice, enjoying the freedom and the wildness of pure Stormwalker power.

The shadow of a human being reared up in front of my window. Gasping, I jerked the car to the right, but I felt a dull thud as the driver’s side fender hit whoever it was.

I’d been going maybe ten miles an hour, but even that could knock a person down and do serious damage, especially if they’d been blundering around on the ice. I got the car stopped and opened the door, shoving hard against wind and swirling snow.

I scrambled to the body on the road. It was a woman, lying facedown, wind whipping the hood of her parka and her long black hair.

I was afraid to touch her with my snow queen thing going on, but I had no choice. I grabbed the woman under the arms and dragged her to the relative safety of the car.

She was light, and I tucked her into the passenger’s seat without problem. Her parka hood flopped over her face, and she never looked up. The car was still running as I slipped back inside and slammed the door, shutting us into silence and warmth.

“You all right?” I didn’t want to touch her again in case my crazy ice-fingers hurt her, but she didn’t respond. “I’ll take you to my hotel, and we can call for help from there.”

No answer. My heart racing in panic, I put the car in gear and moved it slowly forward. The tires spun a little on the side of the road, but with a boost from my storm power, I got back on the highway. I cranked up the heater to counteract the cold my own body radiated and drove on.