Dance of the Bones

At last Beautiful Girl’s brother decided to ask I’itoi—-the Spirit of Goodness—-for help. He called for Messenger, Ah’atha. The brother dressed Messenger in white eagle feathers and sent him to see I’itoi. Spirit of Goodness listened to Messenger and decided to help. He took the seeds from a gourd and planted them at the base of the mountain, then he began to sing. Soon the seeds began to sprout. Before the end of the day the gourd vines had grown so tall that they covered the steep sides of the mountain. Beautiful Girl was able to climb down safely.

WITH THE HELP OF SEVERAL glasses of Pig’s Nose scotch, Ava went to bed earlier that evening than she would have otherwise. Several hours later, she was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of a cell phone clattering noisily across her bedside table. It was another of her burner phones, one that she always kept nearby with the ringer turned on silent and the phone set on vibrate.

“Hello.” She didn’t need to ask who was calling, because there was only one person who had the number. “What’s up?”

“He didn’t deliver the shipment.”

Ava sat bolt upright in bed. “What do you mean, he didn’t deliver?” she demanded. “Didn’t the package make it across the border?”

“It came across the border, all right, but our guy wants more money.”

Ava was outraged. “Are you kidding me? He’s holding my damned diamonds for ransom?”

“That’s how it sounds.”

“How much does he want?”

“Twenty thou.”

“That’s highway robbery—-twice what we’ve paid him before.”

“Well,” Ava’s caller replied with a chuckle. “You know what they say about no honor among thieves. He claims he needs the money. He says his mom is sick, and he’s looking after his younger brothers.”

“Too bad for him,” Ava replied. “Turns out now he’s lost his job, too. I want you to take care of this.”

“As in . . . ?”

“As in take care of it!” Ava snapped. “As in make a statement. As in do whatever the hell you have to do to get the job done. As in let other -people out on the res know that I am not to be trifled with. I want those three José boys wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll take care of it.”

“Before you do,” she added, “I want you to make Carlos tell you what the hell happened to my diamonds. I want them back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said again. “I certainly do.”

As he hung up, Ava thought the poor man sounded a bit shocked and more than a little cowed. It must have been hard for him to imagine that she had so casually condemned three members of a single family to death. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, this wasn’t Ava Richland’s first rodeo, and it wasn’t the first time she had issued someone’s death sentence, either. In fact, now that she thought about it, this probably wouldn’t be the last time.

Ava was relieved that she now had other -people to do the dirty work for her, so it was no longer necessary for her personally to be the one pulling the trigger. Max José had worked for her for one reason only—-because he understood that what she was doing had no connection to the cartels. But if he was behind this and was directing his brothers to hold her up for more money, he had made a fatal error in thinking that she wasn’t every bit as dangerous as the cartels.

Ava went into the kitchen and started the coffee. It was just after midnight. Harold wouldn’t awaken for several more hours. She knew that three--fourths of the José problem would be handled, but now, while she had a little peace and quiet to herself, Ava needed to make some private phone calls and arrange to deal with Max. What’s more, once and for all, she needed to take care of John Lassiter.

The man had already had two separate trials. If Ava Richland had her way, he sure as hell wouldn’t have a third one.