Song of the Lion (Leaphorn & Chee #21)

The man sauntered to the end of the counter, picked up a phone, pushed in four digits, and handed it to Chee.

As he listened to the rings, Chee wondered if the clerk’s attitude was because he was Navajo and the clerk was Hopi, or because the man had a grudge against the police. Or maybe because he hated life in general.

After six rings, a mechanical voice informed him that the guest he was trying to reach was unavailable. Chee left a brief message with his phone number. He rethought his idea of leaving the envelope for Blankenship at the front desk. He knew the room number from watching the clerk dial and could call it directly next time, or just knock on the door.

Back at the motel, he was pleased to see Bernie’s car in the lot and happier still to see her in their room. But Palmer was there, too, sitting in the chair at the desk. He could tell that something was off.

“Hey,” Chee said. “So this is why you threatened to fire me. So Bernie could be your bodyguard.”

Palmer laughed, an embarrassed chuckle. “I lost my head back there. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You were just doing your job. I appreciate your work even though I think I’d be fine without you.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been a strange day. Bernie can tell you about my stalker.”

“The incident you called about, right?”

Bernie nodded. “The man turned out to be his son. I bought them dinner and they had a little talk.”

“My kid is a jerk but harmless. But when I got back to my hotel room, the light on the house phone was blinking, you know, indicating that there was a message. Nobody uses those phones, but I picked up the receiver to check and heard something odd.” Palmer swallowed. “The caller said my name, waited, and then hung up.”

Chee said, “Yeah. Odd. Maybe he was going to leave a message and changed his mind. Or forgot what he was going to say.”

“That’s what Bernie thinks. But no one except you knows what room I’m in. That’s why I registered as Harris.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Who do you think it could be?”

Palmer shook his head. “It’s a voice I’ve heard before, but I can’t place it. Low, gravely, like an announcer at some sports events. I saved the message.”

“Did he sound threatening?”

“Not exactly, but letting me know he knows how to find me seems scary. Or maybe I’m overreacting.”

Bernie stood. “I suggested that we switch rooms. He takes this one, and you and I move to his.”

Chee said, “So tell me again about the phone call. What else?”

Palmer stood. “Wait a minute. Everyone knows about the mediation and a lot of people know what I look like. There are only two hotels here. If I’m not in one, well?”

“But what about checking in as Harris?”

“That’s why it spooked me, I guess. I’m sorry to have imposed on you.”

Chee said, “It’s my job to make sure you can do your job, but that call doesn’t give me much to go on. And just to be clear, you can’t fire me because I don’t work for you. I work for the Navajo Police.”

“Understood.” Chee walked with him to watch as Palmer safely entered his own room. “All clear in there?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Bernie opened the door to their room before he could slide his card in the slot. Chee sat on the bed and started to take off his boots. She sat next to him. “It sounds like you and Palmer got into it.”

“I hate being a bodyguard. He ditched me during a break at the mediation, and when I mentioned that he couldn’t do that, he said he’d like to fire me. Tell me about Palmer’s son.”

“He’d never survive as a stalker, too obvious. At Cameron, they were rude to each other and angry. Robert told Palmer some of the delegates have ulterior motives. Palmer knew that already, of course. I think Robert wanted his dad to reach out to him, apologize for things that happened a long time ago. Palmer didn’t buy it.”

Chee said, “Speaking of relatives, your sister called after you drove out of the Justice Center parking lot.”

“Really?”

“She said she and a friend plan to come to Tuba City to check out the session and then go to the Grand Canyon. They might be here tomorrow.”

“Unless she changes her mind.”

“Right. That’s happened.”

“Did she say which friend? She left me a phone message, but . . .”

“A guy with a strange name. CSI? Wait. It was CS without the I. CS? Country Sizzler? ”

“What did she say about him? Are you going to give me any more information on the dude?”

“Oh, so you haven’t met him yet.” Chee sat a little straighter. “Well, I might tell you what I know. Or maybe not. It depends on how well you can bribe me.”

He reached for her, and she felt good in his arms, warm, strong, and soft in the places where soft matters. He loved the texture and the smell of her long silky hair, the way her kiss made him forget everything except wanting to kiss her again.

Then, at a most inconvenient time, he heard a chime. Not his phone. Not Bernie’s. The interruption was coming from the desk, electronic music based on a Native flute melody. Reluctantly, he left his lovely wife and picked up Palmer’s forgotten phone.

“Hello?”

“Who’s this?” The voice on the phone sounded young, male, and irate.

“You called this number. Who am I talking to?”

“Robert. Is Mr. Palmer there?”

“No, but I can give him a message.”

“Why do you have his phone?”

Chee repeated himself. “Can I give Mr. Palmer a message for you?”

“Is he paranoid or something?” Robert didn’t wait for an answer. “Tell him to call me. He’s got the number.”

“Will he know which Robert?”

“His son. Tell him it’s urgent.” The phone went silent.

Chee walked back to the bed. “Robert said it was urgent for Palmer to call. You met the guy. Do you think urgent could wait?”

She sighed. “Call Palmer on the room phone and let him know Robert called and that his cell is here.”

He punched Palmer’s extension into the old telephone console on the desk. It rang a few times and then went to a generic message. He hung up. “Did I tell Palmer to ignore the phone?”

“Not at all. You told him not to be paranoid, but in a nice way.”

Chee looked at her and picked up Palmer’s cell phone. “Remember where we were. I’ll be right back.”

He went across the hall and knocked on Palmer’s door. No answer.

He knocked again. “It’s Chee.”

Then he came back to Bernie.

“That was quick.”

“ He didn’t answer. I have a key to his room.”

She got up out of bed. “Give me a minute. I’m coming with you.”

“What if he’s in the shower or something?”

“I’ll wait in the hall. This doesn’t seem right.”

This time, she did the knocking. “Palmer. Palmer? It’s Bernie. You in there?”

Chee slid the plastic key card into the slot. A small green light flashed, and he pushed the door open.





16


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