Song of the Lion (Leaphorn & Chee #21)

Darleen had never been interested in physical activity. Bernie liked the “smooth shoes” excuse.

Clayton cleared his throat. “Sergeant Chee asked me to tell you that you went off with the keys to his unit.” Bernie remembered that she had planned to ask for a background check on this guy, CS, and wished she had already done it. He seemed normal, but that’s what the neighbors always said about mass murderers.

Bernie patted her pants pocket and felt Sandra’s rock and a tell-tale lump. She remembered borrowing Chee’s keys when she went for the map. “So, how did you find Chee?”

“Oh, we stopped at the meeting to see what was going on. It looked crazy. People arguing in the parking lot. Tons of signs. TV trucks. That’s where Darleen saw the sergeant, and he came over and gave her the message about the keys and told us where you were hiking.”

“Did it take long to find me?”

Clayton smiled. “No. I’m from the Bodaway Chapter. From around here.”

Bernie said, “If I give you the keys, can you take them back to Chee?”

Clayton said, “Sure, but not until tonight. We’re on our way to the Grand Canyon for that program they do about condors. I’m shooting a video of that and then the condor specialist agreed to let me tape an interview with her. I have to be there early to set up but we could drop them off later.”

“He’ll need his keys before tonight.” In fact, he needed them before now and he’s probably peeved about it, she thought. “I’ll hike up with you.”

As she’d expected, the climb back to the trailhead took more energy. Even though Clayton was years younger, Bernie noticed that he was breathing hard at the pace she set. They focused on the hike, not conversation, and she appreciated the cool November temperatures. They finally reached the overlook with its vendors and the parking area and saw Darleen waiting at a picnic table. “Hey, sis. I’m glad you met CS.”

“He gave me the message about the keys. So you ran into Chee at the Justice Center?”

Darleen nodded. “I felt bad for him. There was a guy being totally rude.”

“What did he look like?” Bernie wondered if the man was one of the protesters she’d seen on TV.

“Weird. His face was white below his eyes all the way to his neck.” Darleen moved a finger along her own face to demonstrate. “But his nose and his forehead were tan.”

CS said, “Make a picture of him. You’re brilliant that way.”

“I can try.” Darleen extended her hand toward Bernie. “Let me borrow that notebook you always haul around and a pencil or something.”

Darleen put the book on the tabletop and started to draw. After a few minutes, she showed them her sketch of a man with a bald head. She had shaded to illustrate his uneven tan.

CS examined the picture. “That’s him all right. I didn’t notice that he had an earring.”

Bernie looked at the face. She’d seen the man at the meeting yesterday. She wondered if he was on the FBI’s list.

Darleen said, “So what’s up with the Cheeseburger? He looked totally serious.”

“From what you said, the situation was tense. He’s in charge of keeping the mediator safe.”

“Oh, right.”

CS said, “We’ve got to go. I don’t want to miss the bird talk.”

Bernie walked with her sister and CS to Darleen’s car, a miracle on four tires. She noticed CS reached through the window to open the driver’s door for Darleen—the only way to do it

“Do you know much about cars?” Bernie said.

He shrugged. “She’s the expert on this one.”

Darleen said, “I know how to put in the gas, turn on the headlights, adjust the radio, and push the brake to stop.” She laughed. “I know how to check the oil, turn on the windshield wipers, fix a flat, and call somebody if we break down.”

“Would that somebody be me?”

CS said, “I’ve got relatives out this way, but if you want, we’ll call you or the sergeant if we need help.”

Darleen said, “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. We made it this far. Hey, the Cheeseburger said to tell you Lieutenant Leaphorn called. I almost forgot.”

After they left, Bernie pulled out her phone and looked at it. She had two bars for the strength of signal; not great but worth a try.

She dialed Leaphorn’s number, and he—or maybe it was Louisa—answered on the third ring. The voice broke with static.

“It’s Bernie. I’m having trouble understanding you. I’ll call from the road when I get—” She heard the dreaded five tones of a lost call. She put the phone on the seat next to her, along with Chee’s purloined keys.

She started the Toyota, happy that the sun had warmed it. She could kick herself for walking off with Chee’s keys and knew she’d get some ribbing about it, especially after her computer brain speech last night. On the positive side, she’d done some hiking and had a chance to look CS in the eye. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed northeast toward Tuba City.

After a few minutes, she heard the rumble of her phone vibrating. Sure that it was Leaphorn, she pushed the button to answer and put it on speaker without looking to see who was calling.

“Did you hear about Robert?” A distressed female voice joined her in the front seat.

“Who is this?”

“Lona.”

It took her a minute to line things up. Robert was Palmer’s son; Lona was Palmer’s ex. Lona was Robert mother. “I heard. I’m so sorry. How is he doing?”

“What I meant was, did you find out what happened to the car? What caused the wreck?” Lona sounded exhausted.

“The police said it was a rollover, a one-car accident.”

“I think there’s more to it. You know someone wants to get at Aza. What if he thought this was a way to do it. Poor Robert. I told him to stay here in Phoenix, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Lona? Did I lose you?”

“I’m here. Just thinking. First my boyfriend and I split up and then poor Ricky. Robert couldn’t even talk about that, it upset him so much. And now this.”

Bernie said, “I admire Robert for wanting to see his dad. That took—”

Lona interrupted. “That’s not the only reason he’s out there. My boyfriend, I mean my ex-boyfriend, does a lot of business in the Four Corners and he offered Robert a job. Those two have a lovefest going on. By acts more like a dad than Aza ever did.”

“Guy?”

“No, By. Byrum, my former boyfriend. If it hadn’t been for Robert I would have kicked him out of my life sooner.” Bernie heard a stifled sob. “Robert drives better than I do, better than Aza. I don’t think this was an accident. Will you let me know if you hear anything?”

“Yes. And will you let me know how Robert is doing?”

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