Bigman said, “I asked dispatch to call Mr. Tso’s daughter. She’ll meet us at the hospital. Can you wait with my unit just until the backup guy comes?”
She wanted to say no, to go to Mama’s, take a shower, eat something, and stretch out on the couch with an ice pack. But she was part of a team. And she realized she didn’t have a car there. And she was missing her phone, her wallet, her keys, her gun, and all the other important things in her now-incinerated backpack.
“Sure. Can I use your phone before you go?”
Bigman looked at the ambulance. “Be quick.”
Darleen answered on the first ring. “Sister? Are you OK? Oh my god, I thought you might be dead or—” And she stopped talking and started to cry.
“I’m fine. I’ll be at Mama’s later tonight.”
The ambulance driver yelled, “Bigman, we’re ready. They’re waiting in ER for these two.”
Bernie said, “I have to give Bigman the phone, but thanks for calling the station about me. I’m proud of you.”
“I love you, that’s all.” And Darleen hung up.
Bernie watched the ambulance speed off, lights flashing, the piercing wail of the siren penetrating the summer night. She stood by the road, noticing that the glow from Mr. Tso’s explosion was nearly gone. No one had arrived from the fire department, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The old house was long lost.
Despite the ringing in her ears, she heard a coyote singing to the moon. She looked at the stars and the Rock with Wings, rising from the landscape. She thought about Miller and Buddy, wondering why Buddy got to ride in the front seat. Wondering about the animal that had attacked Oster. Wondering why she and Mr. Tso hadn’t died in the explosion.
She’d talk to Mama again about teaching Mrs. Bigman how to weave, she decided. Not just ask, but try to convince her. They could use the loom Chee had built. No point in it sitting idle.
She climbed into Bigman’s unit, watching the occasional vehicle drive past and flashing the light bar at speeders. After about half an hour, a Navajo Police car pulled to the side of the road behind her.
Chee opened the door almost before the vehicle came to a stop.
Despite her sore shoulder, his embrace had never felt so good.
22
Chee hadn’t seen the Lieutenant since before his Monument Valley assignment. He was glad to have Bernie with him for the visit. She always managed to know what to say to ease the conversation forward, and when to stop talking.
Louisa greeted them at the door. She wrapped him in a quick hug. “Welcome, stranger!” Then she turned to Bernie. “What happened to you, sweetie? That bruise looks bad.”
Bernie touched the tender place on her chin. “It’s nothing. I did a face plant in the line of duty. How’s the Lieutenant?”
“Joe is waiting in his office. I figured you all could talk there while I finish dinner.”
“Can I make a salad, set the table, or something?”
Louisa nudged her away. “I’ll call when it’s ready. Go and chat.”
The Lieutenant sat on an overstuffed chair with a view of the activity at the hummingbird feeders. He motioned them to the couch across from him. The Lieutenant had a computer on his lap. He looked better than he had at their last visit.
“It’s good to see you.” Bernie spoke in Navajo. “And before you ask what happened to my face—well, you should have seen the other guy.”
Leaphorn turned to Chee.
Chee said, “She’s OK. Nothing broken. No permanent damage. She’s as feisty as ever.”
The Lieutenant looked at Bernie again.
“I wanted to let you know your ideas helped solve that case in Monument Valley,” Chee said. “What you wrote about the pendant and the poker chip? That led me to remember a tourist couple who had camped where they shouldn’t have. It turned out they had carried the cremated remains of her parents out to the valley. That’s where the bone fragments I saw came from.”
Leaphorn typed something and handed the computer to Chee: Etcitty too young.
“What does that mean?” Bernie asked.
Chee said, “I was wrong about that. When the Lieutenant told me Robert Etcitty created the necklace, the only Etcitty I’d heard of is about my age. That’s why I thought, well, that the Lieutenant might have been mistaken.”
“Oh, right. Your friend who made my bracelet. So this man was his relative?”
“A great-uncle.”
“Remember that old photo of the cowboys and Indians at Goulding’s?” Bernie asked. “You mentioned that the man looked like Robert.”
“I told the tourist lady about that photograph. One of those cowboys might have been her grandfather.”
They watched Leaphorn hunting for the letters on his keyboard: Chip?
“You were right about that, too. I didn’t realize it was important when I found it. It was from Stagecoach, like you told me, in the poker scene. The tourist woman’s grandfather saved it as a souvenir, and she left it when she deposited the ashes. Without it, without you putting it together, I wouldn’t have made the connection.”
Leaphorn tapped three times.
“Three means maybe you would have,” Bernie said.
The Lieutenant typed: Work w. Tsinnie OK?
“Tsinnie? Who’s that?” Bernie asked.
“Oh, a detective in Monument Valley. She knows the Lieutenant.”
Leaphorn typed: Trained her.
Chee hesitated. “We only spent part of a day together.”
Leaphorn and Bernie waited. Finally she asked, “And?”
“And, she’s sharp. Asked tough questions. She reminded me of you, sir, in some ways. She made me think.”
Leaphorn nodded and tapped once, his signal for yes, for agreement.
Bernie said, “Should I be jealous?”
Leaphorn looked at Chee, then tapped twice.
“OK, then. No jealousy.”
He typed again: Need to talk to Chee alone.
Bernie said, “Sure. Maybe Louisa can use some help now.” But Chee noticed her frown. The Lieutenant had hurt her feelings.
At dinner, Chee tried to keep them entertained with stories of the gourmet coffee and characters he’d encountered during his movie duty. But the Lieutenant seemed distracted, glancing at Chee, then at Bernie, then turning away.
After the meal, Louisa said, “I made a special dessert tonight in honor of seeing you both again. And Joe has some good news too. So go out to the back porch while I get it ready, and we can sit and talk there.”
The Lieutenant pushed his chair back and used the table to rise. He moved better than the last time she’d visited, Bernie realized. The therapy must be helping. She and Chee joined him at the glass patio table. Louisa had already put out the forks, white plates with an orange stripe around the rim, and matching orange cloth napkins. The Lieutenant’s news must have called for a celebration with more than disposable dishes.
The back door opened, and Louisa emerged with a layer cake with chocolate frosting studded with pi?on nuts. Who knew what deliciousness hid beneath it? Bernie felt herself salivate at the thought.
Louisa put the cake at the center of the table.
“Wow,” Chee said. “That’s beautiful. Did you make it?”