“Can you tell me about Bizaadii?” The nickname referred to someone who liked to talk.
Mrs. Nez nodded. “Did you know I had two daughters? The younger one, she had a baby in high school and that boy, we called him Rocket, stayed with me, too. Then she married the baby’s father, the one we called Bizaadii, and they moved away. But in Arizona it was just the three of them. No, the two of them, because her husband was at work or in school and didn’t have time for her or that boy. After they divorced, my daughter found a better man, that Mr. Lee. I thought he was Navajo when she told me his name. I never met him, but he’s a bilagaana like your lady.” Mrs. Nez turned her chin toward Louisa, who was engrossed in her book. “My daughter said he liked to wear a white cowboy hat. Mr. Lee treats my grandson Rocket real good but my daughter kicked him out because she still loves that Bizaadii. That’s all I have to say.”
Leaphorn watched Mrs. Nez raise her gaze to the window and the vast spaces of Navajoland beyond. He let the silence sit, watching the vehicles in the yard catch the cool fall sunlight. Then he spoke. “Officer Manuelito noticed that your grandson’s truck was here at the house, not at the gym where he got hurt. The officer thought his girlfriend might have picked him up.”
Mrs. Nez squeezed her lower lip with her teeth, then released it. “It could have been.”
“But it wasn’t, correct?”
“The girlfriend wanted to marry Zoom, but they couldn’t until he saved money, so they broke up last month. A few days before the big basketball game, Rocket came over. He was doing some work out here somewhere with Mr. Lee. He said Mr. Lee had a friend, a man with a funny name, who needed to hire someone who knew about cars. The next day my grandson went to Shiprock, and when he came back, his spirit was restless, like when he used to get into trouble. I asked what worried him. At first he didn’t answer, but then he showed me money in an envelope. He said the job was putting something in a car and that he would be paid more after the job was done.”
Leaphorn straightened in his chair.
“I asked what he had to put in the car and whose car it was, and my grandson said the man would tell him at the basketball game. Zoom needed money, but the secret part made him nervous. That’s why he asked Rocket to pick him up to go to the game. He wanted to talk to Rocket about the job.”
Mrs. Nez looked at the back of her hands. “If it was something bad, I know my grandson wouldn’t do it. He left the envelope here with money to go back to the man.”
“Did you ever meet that man?”
Mrs. Nez said, “No, but I saw him once, just as I got to the house and he was leaving. A tall, thin bilagaana. He wore a white hat.”
She rose and refilled their cups. The liquid looked darker now and smelled more acidic. Leaphorn sipped the coffee, seeing the pieces of the puzzle fall into place and knowing what he had to ask next.
“Someone saw a man who looked like your grandson inside Mr. Palmer’s car before it blew up. Why would that be?”
Mrs. Nez’s face fell slack. She shook her head.
Leaphorn put his cup down. “Was your grandson angry with Bizaadii?”
“Not Zoom. Rocket was the angry one. Rocket wanted Mr. Lee to be his dad, and I know Mr. Lee treats him good. But my daughter said no because her heart still belonged to Bizaadii.”
Leaphorn told Mrs. Nez a little about the shooting that left him walking with the cane. After answering his questions, it seemed only fair that he answer hers—even those she left unspoken. They listened to the crackle of the wood in the stove and the gentle snoring of the sister, who had fallen asleep over her quilt.
As he rose to leave, Leaphorn recalled Bernie’s suspicion that Mrs. Nez had lied about Rick knowing Palmer. Mrs. Nez told Bernie that Rick never mentioned Aza Palmer, never said Palmer’s name.
“You and your daughter called Aza Palmer Bizaadii. Did Zoom call him that, too? Or did he call him Mr. Palmer, or Aza?”
She raised an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “He called him shidá’í. He called him uncle, of course.”
“Did Sergeant Chee take care of that envelope?”
“I don’t know.”
“I found it here with funny name on it, and I remembered Zoom said that he would have to go to the meeting in Tuba City to give it back. They wouldn’t let me in the meeting, so I gave it to Chee. I thought I could trust him.”
“I’ve trusted him with my life,” Leaphorn said. “I’m sure he did the right thing.”
As soon as he and Louisa left Mrs. Nez’s house, Leaphorn started an e-mail. He flinched at the idea of Louisa driving his truck, but he wanted to focus his full attention on writing what he needed to tell Bernie, including the strange notion of two bilagaanas in Mrs. Nez’s circle, each wearing a white cowboy hat.
25
A streamlined white coach the length of a small school bus arrived outside the Tuba City Justice Center. Chee and Dashee watched it pull into the parking lot.
Dashee looked at the sky, then back at the bus. “Half the population of Moenkopi would fit inside that thing. Where is your guy anyway?”
“Over there on the phone. Probably thinking about a cigarette before we leave.”
“No need to be in a hurry.” Dashee glanced overhead again. “The canyon will be foggy. No one will be able to see much.”
Chee looked at the sky, brilliant blue and crystal clear.
“Foggy, huh? Like in those movies filmed in San Francisco?”
“Like the ones where the ships are getting closer and closer to each other but the captain can’t see anything.” Dashee swooped his hands up from his sides and clapped them together. “Then, ka-BAM! I haven’t seen weather like this much. But when it comes, it’s usually in November. They call it an inverse weather system. Why don’t you mention it to Palmer?”
Chee said, “Why don’t you mention it? The day looks fine to me. You’re the one who lives out here.”
“You’re the bodyguard.”
“You’re the weather expert.”
“What are you two arguing about?” Sergeant Redbone’s voice startled Chee.
“We’re talking about the weather. Dashee predicts heavy fog.”
“Yeah, that fog is something. The whole canyon disappears. My wife was telling me how beautiful it looked on her drive to work this morning.”
“You found someone to marry you?” Chee laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day you got so lucky.”
“Believe it or not, she says she got lucky.”
Dashee said, “See, I know about fog. So, is your wife a park ranger?”
“No, she has a job in the big bookstore at the visitor center. She grew up out here, went to school in Flagstaff, got a degree in library science, worked in Prescott for a while, retired with a nice pension, and then took that gig at the canyon. That’s how I met her.” He turned to Chee. “After you found Bernie, I figured there was hope for this old bachelor, too. Is Bernie here?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you think Palmer knows about the fog?”