“I baked it this morning.”
“So what’s the special occasion? You’re keeping Bernie and me in suspense.”
Louisa smiled. “Joe and Captain Largo have been e-mailing. Last night, the Captain asked Joe to come back to work for the department. Part-time, as much or as little as he feels up to, as a consultant.”
Chee looked at Leaphorn. “And you said yes, sir?”
Leaphorn nodded.
“Wonderful,” Chee said. “Now I won’t be imposing on you when I ask for help on a case.”
Leaphorn tapped three times.
“It probably depends on the case and how interesting it is,” Bernie said. “I’m happy for you, sir. It will be great to have you back. I mean, even though it’s on-line for now.”
The Lieutenant nodded again.
Louisa served them each a piece of cake. Beneath the chocolate frosting were two layers of yellow cake and a red filling between them. Cherry? Raspberry? Whatever it was, Chee ate every bite and looked longingly at the uncut leftovers and the big, mostly uneaten slice on Bernie’s plate. His wife had only eaten the frosting.
Louisa had moved on. “Who would like tea to go with this? It’s herbal, good for you. Won’t keep you up all night . . .”
“Gosh, not tonight,” Bernie said.
Chee said, “Sure, that sounds good.”
The Lieutenant shook his head. Vigorously.
Bernie changed the subject. “I saw your cactus over there.” She glanced toward the little plant. “It looks OK.”
“I think it’s still alive,” Louisa said. “I have more respect for the little guy after what Joe showed me about its being endangered. I guess we shouldn’t really have it.”
Leaphorn tapped twice.
Bernie smiled at him. “He’s right. It’s technically illegal, but it would never survive being transplanted again. Keep it. See if it blooms for you in June.”
Louisa asked, “What happened to the old gentleman who lived near the cactus, the man whose house blew up?”
“He decided to move in with his daughter while he recovers from his injuries,” Bernie said. “The grandson wants to rebuild the place, and the new house will have solar power. The company found an alternative site that preserves the remaining plants and the view of Ship Rock.”
“Whatever happened to the cactus thief?” Chee asked.
“I don’t know. Cordova is pretending he never existed. But somebody sent me a new backpack. And it has a wolf logo on it, the same as the logo that Miller had on his cap the night I stopped him. No note. No return address.”
Chee somehow managed to drink half the cup of tea, and then they said their goodbyes.
Bernie didn’t talk much on the trip home, but when Chee pulled into the driveway, she turned to him.
“OK. What did the Lieutenant need to tell you that he didn’t want to say in front of me?”
Chee took a breath. Exhaled. “He scolded me for not taking good care of you. He doesn’t like your bruise and your bum shoulder, and he didn’t like the way you made a joke out of it.”
“Every cop I know does that. Does he want me to be a crybaby or something?”
“I told him what happened, how you rescued the old one. I bragged on you.”
“Any officer would have done that. The Lieutenant knows better than anybody that police work is dangerous. You weren’t even there. If he has an issue with me, he should talk to me.”
“He likes you, honey. That’s why he’s worried. He knows your injury had nothing to do with me. He was just venting.” Chee put his arm around her.
“I’ll have to talk to him about that,” Bernie said.
“OK, but don’t let on that you heard it from me.”
Bernie opened the truck door and unfastened her seat belt. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing much. He passed along something Tsinnie told him. She thought I did a good job figuring out what those zombie people were up to.” Chee chuckled. “I guess he mentioned it because I asked for his advice and actually followed it.”
“I hope all the compliments don’t go to your head. Next thing I know, you’ll want that Monument Valley movie production assignment permanently.”
“No way,” he said. “The only star I’m interested in is you.”
Acknowledgments and Disclaimers
It seems to take a village to write a book.
Detective Sergeant Michelle Williams of the Santa Fe Police Department graciously shared her experience, advice, and insights into the problems of traffic stops and other hazards; retired Navajo police officer Randy Johns generously offered great information on dealing with DWI arrests; and Farmington’s Bill Stanley taught me a lot about alternative programs to address drunken driving. Thank you.
I appreciate the encouragement of engineer Sandra Begay-Campbell, and her knowledge of solar energy, the engineering profession, and the Navajo Nation. Thank you to botanist Daniela Roth for information on Sclerocactus mesae-verde, a real endangered cactus growing on Navajo Nation land, including the Shiprock area.
Ronnie Baird, general manager at Goulding’s Lodge, planted the seed for part of this book with his colorful tales of working with Mike Goulding. His generosity in speaking to the Road Scholar Tony Hillerman’s Landscape tours helped me understand and appreciate the role of the movies in the lodge’s history.
My appreciation to Alex Shapiro and the fine folks at the Institute of American Indian Arts for answering my questions, and for an extensive tour. Santa Fe’s Aldea Book Club’s astute insights into Spider Woman’s Daughter helped me to craft this new Bernadette Manuelito story.
Thanks to my fellow writers, Rebecca Carrier, Jann Arrington Wolcott, Lucy Moore, and Talitha Arnold, who showed me how I could do better. My editor, Carolyn Marino, added her advice, support, and wisdom, as did my agent, Elizabeth Trupin-Pulli, and copyeditor Miranda Ottewell.
Thanks to my mother; to my business partner, Jean Schaumberg; to Don, my terrific husband; and to my son Brandon and his girlfriend, Lola Sandman, for their tolerance, advice, and encouragement. And to David and Gail Greenberg for their friendship.
And finally, a tip of the hat to all the fans of Tony Hillerman’s work who took a chance on my first novel, Spider Woman’s Daughter, and contacted me, asking for more. Without you all, this book would not exist.
Glossary of Navajo Words Used in ROCK WITH WINGS
adlaanii “Lost one,” an alcoholic
ahéhee thank you
atoo’ mutton stew
bee ‘adizí Spindle Rock, known in English as Owl Rock
bee na’niildóhó microwave oven; literally, “you warm things up with it”
be ezo traditional hairbrush made with dried muhly grass
bilagaana white person
chindi restless spirit of a dead person
dahetihhe hummingbird
dibé sheep
Diné Navajo people
Diné Bahane’ Navajo origin story
Diné Bizaad Navajo language
Dinetah traditional Navajo homeland; literally “among the people”
hataalii Navajo singer, traditional healer