“No.” Chee looked at Dashee.
Dashee said, “It’s a blessing. Rare and beautiful.”
“Palmer and the delegates might not see it that way. They might just see clouds where the canyon used to be. Somebody should mention it.” Redbone looked at the bus. “Why didn’t he rent a smaller van?”
“Beats me,” Chee said.
Dashee said, “That’s one of the buses the tour companies use to drive people up to First Mesa for the Walpi tour. I guess Palmer wanted to make sure there was plenty of room for us cops to go, too. And Mr. Keevama is bringing his wife and kids. Maybe Palmer’s going to toss a bone to some of the protesters and let them ride along today to see the fog.”
Redbone angled his ample weight toward Chee. “You heard any more about the problem with the heat yesterday?”
“Yeah. Looks like it was vandalism, the same as the power going off. It should be working again tomorrow.”
“Wow. Any idea who did it?”
“No. Captain Largo told me the feds now think the young guy who died in the explosion might have links to the bomber after all. One of the witnesses saw him in the car before it exploded.”
I’m following the bus in my unit, just to be on the safe side.” Dashee chuckled. “Mr. Keevama has a meeting at two, so I’m going to drive him back here if the field trip runs long. I told his kids they could ride with me. They’re excited about being in a police car.”
Chee noticed Palmer motioning his way. “I gotta see what the man wants.”
Palmer got right to the point. “Delegate Jessica Atwell has to attend a teleconference with her husband and her mother-in-law’s doctors. The old lady is in a nursing home, and they have to make some emergency decisions about her care. She won’t be done in time to catch the bus with us. You need to wait here and then give her a ride out to the site. ”
“I have to stay with you. You know that, especially after the vandalism and the dead fish.”
“Help me out here, Chee. I can’t postpone the trip long enough for Atwell to take her call. She can’t drive herself because her husband has their car.”
“Why not go without her?”
“The delegates and I made a promise that everyone would have access to all the same information.” Palmer shifted his black bag to his other shoulder. “Do it. You hate this bodyguard stuff anyway.”
Chee said nothing.
“OK, then figure out how to solve this.”
“Ask someone else to be a chauffeur.”
More cars had pulled up. He saw Blankenship, with a hat pulled over his ears, and Duke, with his jacket unzipped, talking together. The information Bernie had shared from Leaphorn’s interview with Mrs. Nez fueled his dislike for Blankenship. And Duke was on his bad list from last night’s escapade even though Palmer had gone with him willingly.
Protesters milled about. In addition to Save Wild America, Chee saw some homemade signs that read “Let the Fish Swim.” He noticed Bernie keeping an eye on things.
Palmer spoke quietly. “Have you heard anything about Robert?”
“Not yet. The nurse promised to call me if there’s any change.” Chee hesitated. “Any change for better or worse. Did someone brief you about the fog?”
“Fog?”
Chee explained what Dashee and Redbone had said about the weather. “Dashee said he’s seen this kind of fog before, and that it fills the canyon from rim to rim. With this and Atwell’s problem, you could—”
Palmer cut him off. “Cancel? No. This is the only day we have the bus. I can’t control the weather, and besides, the drive out there and back will help build camaraderie. What about Bernie? Could she chauffer Atwell?”
“I don’t make decisions for her. You can ask her. She’s over there.”
Chee noticed how Palmer stood a bit straighter as they walked toward Bernie. And he noticed that his pretty wife didn’t notice.
“Hey, Bernie, I need a little favor.”
“First, how’s Robert?”
“No change.”
“Well, that means he’s not worse.”
Palmer said, “Could you give Ms. Atwell a ride out to the proposed development site?” He explained the reason.
Chee said, “Dashee is driving the Hopis and the feds will be on the bus with me. It might be good to have the unit out there.”
Bernie said, “Will there be lunch?”
Palmer explained that he had arranged for a food truck. “That’s why Duke is here. He and his mom are cooking and serving. Come on, Manuelito. Atwell has me in a bind.”
“OK. I’d like to see the site.” She smiled at him. “Great jacket, by the way. I love the turquoise.”
Palmer put his hands in his pockets. “These coats last forever.” He gave her Atwell’s phone number. “She will meet you in the hotel lobby as soon as she’s done. I’m going to start loading the bus.”
Bernie said, “Before you go, tell me something. How well do you know Blankenship?”
“Mostly by reputation. He’s a raft contractor and speaks for the association. Before that he worked for some environmental group. Passionate guy. Why do you ask?”
“A friend of mine thinks he might be dangerous.”
Palmer laughed. “You’re starting to sound like your husband. See you at the canyon.”
26
Back at the motel Bernie opened the door to her room and saw the neatly made bed, the fresh towels in the bathroom, and the three one-hundred-dollar bills just where she’d left them. She knew she and Chee were lucky that the hotel had such an honest cleaning staff. She put the money and the note back in the envelope and then inside the room safe. It was good that Blankenship didn’t want the money, she thought, now that it might be evidence.
She called Cordova to discuss the links between Robert and Rick and Palmer and Blankenship the night of the bombing. She couldn’t reach him and didn’t leave a message; the interconnections were too complicated. She put the book she was reading in her backpack and went out to the police unit.
As she parked at the Hotel Hopi, she felt her phone buzz with a text message. Darleen? No, a reminder from Sandra about a staff meeting next week. Not hearing from her sister made her edgy, especially when Darleen was a long way from home with someone male. CS seemed trustworthy, but so did a good scammer.
She sat in the lobby waiting for Atwell, called Mama, and listened to the news, mostly a progress report on Mrs. Bigman. “She comes every week. I try to show her what to do, and she tries to learn. She picks me up in her car and we go to that senior center. They keep it warm there. Next time, she says she’s coming early so we can have lunch. The food is for us elderlies, but that one can eat if she pays a little.” The woman had begun to grasp the basics, Mama said, but Mrs. Bigman made a lot of mistakes. Mama said it with a smile in her voice.
“Daughter, are you still at Tó Naneesdizí?”
“I am.”
“You sound like you have something on your mind.”