The room resembled the one she’d just left except that the photo over the bed showed a different view of the Grand Canyon. The door to the bathroom hung open, and even with the light off they could see that it was empty. Palmer’s black bag sat on the bed, the laptop on the desk.
“Did I tell you what happened at the mediation?”
“Sort of. I noticed that you looked grumpy in there.”
“When Palmer gave me the slip, I reminded him that whoever had blown up his car was still on the loose. He accused me of overreacting and whined about how he deserved his privacy.” Chee clenched his jaw. “But I still have to babysit the man. To make it worse, I have to guard him even after the session, at a reception tomorrow. You know how I hate that kind of thing.”
“I know.”
“You can come. There’s a buffet involved. Keep me company.”
“I’m the one person who dreads that social stuff even more than you do.”
“Please?”
“Let me think about it.” Then she noticed the blinking light on the room phone perched on Palmer’s nightstand. She picked up the receiver and followed the recorded instructions for message retrieval. One new, one saved. She put the phone on speaker and played the fresh one.
A male voice: “Aza Palmer. Now that I have your attention, are you ready to do the right thing? Time is running out. You know how to reach me.”
Chee said, “Did that sound like a threat to you?”
“Yes.”
She pushed the button again. The saved message had the same voice saying only “Aza Palmer.”
“I guess he was lying about not knowing the man who made that phone call.”
“I have to find him.”
“I’ll come with you,” Bernie said. “Something about that voice sounds familiar.”
Chee raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s interesting.”
“I can’t place it, but it will come to me.”
They headed down the hall.
Bernie said, “I’ll get my backpack and my weapon. Let me use Palmer’s phone to call Robert. Maybe he knows something.”
“I’ll check around and meet you at the unit.”
Chee learned that the desk clerk had been in the back, focused on the day’s report, and hadn’t noticed a tall man in a white shirt and Pendleton jacket leave the building. He scanned the hotel parking lot, hoping to find Palmer smoking a cigarette. No Palmer, but he noticed the Volkswagen of Protest was back. This time, Bebe Durango had parked near the entrance, farther from the building. If his dog barked, maybe no one would complain. Bebe was standing at the open side door.
“Officer?”
He wanted to ignore him, but maybe he’d seen Palmer. “Sir?”
“Come over here a minute.”
Durango disappeared up the step and inside the vehicle, leaving the door ajar. Chee saw a table stacked with newspapers. The inside of the old camper was neat and well organized. He climbed the steps, noticing that the dog hadn’t barked. He wondered why, and what the old man wanted.
“I need to thank you and the other cops, especially the lady, for trying to keep things calm out there. I forgot to take my medicine this morning, and when that happens, I get riled up. I’m glad nobody arrested me, you know, took me to the slammer.”
Chee smiled. He had never heard anyone say that. “No need to thank us. We were doing our jobs. Have you seen Mr. Palmer out here recently, smoking or something?”
“I might have.” Bebe stroked his chin with the knuckle of his index finger. “There was a tall man in a colorful jacket over by the building. A pickup came and he climbed in. I couldn’t say for sure it was him, or what he was smoking.”
“What color was the truck?”
“It was a light one. White, maybe, or gray. I don’t know if it was a Chevy or a Ford or a whatever.”
“Thanks.” It could have been Katie, he thought and flashed back to earlier in the day when the mediator arrived in a truck. He remembered silver.
Bebe said, “What time and where is the meeting tomorrow?”
“As far as I know, the session will start back at the Justice Center at nine.” Chee turned to leave. “I’m glad your dog calmed down.”
“Oh, I’m sure that stinker is barking his head off somewhere. My friend Bruce took him so he won’t have to spend the day in the camper while I’m out working to save the planet.”
Chee drove his unit to the entrance, arriving as Bernie left the hotel. She’d brought his jacket from their room, he noticed with relief, and was wearing hers. The backpack was on her shoulder.
“The man in the VW says a guy in a colorful coat left with someone in a truck a few minutes ago.”
“Well, that narrows it down to about half the vehicles in the county. I’ll call Robert while you drive.” Bernie retrieved the phone from her pack and turned it on. “Darn. Password protected. Any ideas? I need four of something. Numbers, letters, symbols, combinations.”
“What about the year he was born?” Chee said.
Bernie made a few estimates. None of them worked.
“Try 2–4–6–8 or 1–3–5–7. Something easy, you know.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Bernie fiddled with the phone. “I’m in.”
“What did you use?”
“S-C-23.”
“My wife, the genius. Why that combination?”
“I remembered his jersey number. You know what they say: ‘Once a Chieftain, always a Chieftain.’ I put in the S for Shiprock.”
“You remembered it from high school?”
“Not really. He had the same number at the alumni game. What now?”
Palmer’s most recent missed call had a 480 area code—that wasn’t Shiprock, or even New Mexico. Maybe Phoenix. She dialed and switched to speaker.
“About time you called me.”
“Robert, this is Officer Manuelito. Do you know where Mr. Palmer is?”
The line was silent for a moment. “No friggin’ idea. You told me you were keeping track of him.”
She waited for him to say something else. “I called because I wanted to talk to him about my mom, get it? That’s all. It was something personal, not police business. If you find him, tell him to call me. And give him his phone back.”
He hung up.
Chee said, “If Bebe is correct, it sounds like our man left willingly. Maybe he arranged for the truck to pick him up. Maybe the man on the phone came for him. Did you remember where you heard that voice on his message machine?”
“No. Not yet anyway.”
“So, let’s look for a white pickup while we figure this out.”
“What’s Palmer’s clan sister Katie’s cousin’s last name?”
Chee paused. “I don’t know. She sped away after she dropped him off this morning, and he said he’d introduce me later.”
“I’ll check his recent calls.”
Chee cruised the streets near the hotel while Bernie searched the phone.
“No Katies. He must sort by last name. “Here’s an Austin with a 505 prefix from yesterday. Think that’s her?”
“It sounds like a name for a rich guy from New York.”