Looking Through Darkness (27 page)

He nodded, adding the sugar, then stirring it for a few seconds. “I came because there's something I need to tell you,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. “The wife of one of my patients picked me up this morning and drove me to see her husband. Her neighbor is the boyfriend of the woman you and I treated, the one who passed away.”

Jo felt her body tense. Garnenez, the boyfriend, had been a problem all along.

Rudy continued. “I asked her about him and learned something surprising. After he threatened me, he went to a Cortez bar and got drunk. He ended up scuffling with the police officer who tried to escort him out and was arrested. He spent that night and all day Saturday in the Montezuma County Jail.”

“So he couldn't have been the one who tampered with your tea jar Friday night,” Jo said slowly as the impact of what he'd said sank in. “Then who is after us? Do you have any idea?”

“Not for sure, no, but I know where to start looking. Months ago, one of my patients came to me and requested a Sing. He was unhappy and many things in his life were out of balance. He told me that he knew a tribal official who was rigging bids, cheating companies like the one he worked for, and the tribe, too. He had no proof, but he was convinced he was right,” Rudy said.

“The only place harmony could be restored is within the man. The situation is beyond your control. You're a
hataalii,
not a policeman,” Jo said.

“Sometimes restoring balance is just a matter of waiting for the right moment to present itself,” Rudy said. “Nine days ago I was invited to attend a wedding. The head of Range and Livestock Management for our tribe—the same department my patient had mentioned in connection with the crooked official—was there. I made a point of talking to him. I told him what I'd heard about the corruption, not mentioning the source, and asked if he knew anything about that.”

“Seems reasonable,” she said with nod.

“I thought so, too,” Rudy said. “But unfortunately, he assumed I was accusing
him
of breaking the law. He told me that kind of talk would cost me dearly. If I tried to damage his reputation, he'd destroy mine. He said that the recent death of one of our patients would make it easier for him to create the kind of fear that would ruin me among the Traditionalists. It could also capture the attention of those who practice evil and make me their enemy as well. I'd lose my patients and face new dangers.”

Jo inhaled sharply. She knew precisely what that meant. If word spread that Rudy had killed a patient in order to gain the dark powers of a skinwalker—a Navajo witch—Rudy's reputation would never recover. He'd also face retaliation from skinwalkers because he'd drawn unwanted attention to their practices. That would explain the foul medicine bag hung on the doorknob, and maybe even the paint.

“My guess is that he carried out those threats almost immediately, a preemptive strike, so to speak. He was smart enough to make it look like your patient's boyfriend was responsible for your problems,” Jo said.

Rudy nodded. “That makes sense. That young man is in the tribal official's clan. I bet he was at that wedding, and that's when he was told about his fianc
é
's blessing. The official knew the young man had a hot temper and would probably seek me out.”

“It wasn't a perfect plan. The official didn't know the fianc
é
would end up in jail when he did, or doesn't think we'd find out,” Jo replied, nodding her head. “Who is this man? I need to know where the danger is coming from.”

“Remember that I have no way of proving any of this,” he warned, then seeing her nod, continued. “The tribal official is Lewis Sorrelhorse. At the wedding, I'd tried to convince him I wouldn't bring up the subject again, but he obviously wasn't convinced. I've been so focused on the young man, I'd forgotten about Sorrelhorse 'til last night.”

“What happened?”

“I don't know if you saw the news, but Sorrelhorse is at the center of a new controversy about travel vouchers and double billing the tribe. Yesterday Sorrelhorse sent his assistant over to threaten me, a man named Benally,” Rudy explained. “He accused me of giving Sorrelhorse's name to the press since my wife's brother's nephew works for the TV station. I assured him I hadn't said anything, but I don't think he believed me. After Benally made threats I grabbed my rifle and threw him out of my home. Sorrelhorse is trying to quiet us, one way or the other.”

There was a loud bang outside and they both jumped at the noise.

“Fire!” someone yelled from the front of the store.

Jo leaped out of her chair and grabbed the closest fire extinguisher off the wall. “Call the fire department,” she told Rudy, and rushed out of her office.

“What's going on?” Sam asked, coming out of the storeroom.

“Mr. Brownhat's pickup caught fire,” Leigh Ann said, running toward a second extinguisher.

Jo rushed outside and saw the billowing smoke coming from the wheel well of Rudy's pickup. She raced over, quickly pulling the safety pin on the extinguisher. She could only see a trace of flames in the tire well, but that was clearly the source.

Jo got down on her knees and began spraying the driver's side front tire and the area inside the fender, trying to find the most effective angle to extinguish the fire. The scent of gasoline was strong and the stringy black smoke from the burning tire was so pungent she started to gag. She rose to a crouching position, wondering if she might need to back off if the fire got more intense.

Detective McGraw came up behind her, holding another extinguisher. “Don't get any closer,” he warned, adding spray from his tank to her efforts.

“No, no, no! I have ceremonial items in my truck, things I can't replace! I have to get them out of there,” Rudy yelled, running down the porch steps.

“Stay back, sir,” Detective McGraw ordered, glancing back. “If the fuel system catches fire, there could be an explosion.”

Leigh Ann stepped up and held out an extinguisher twice the size of the one McGraw had been holding. “Detective, here. This CO
2
one might do the trick.”

The detective sat his tank down on the gravel, took the one she offered, and began spraying a fog of carbon dioxide up into the gap between the engine and the melting tire.

Jo continued to spray the tire, which had collapsed down onto the rim in a mass of bubbling goo. There was a whoosh and a sheet of flames shot out from behind the metal wheel. Jo jumped back, and the detective moved in, spraying the new spot with a cloud of white mist. “Brake fluid. Smell it?”

“Careful,” Leigh Ann warned as the detective continued spraying underneath around the front brakes.

Jo nodded and inched around the front of the vehicle, ending up beside Leigh Ann as they both searched for any new source of flames.

Rudy, who'd been standing back, suddenly leaped into action. He raced around the tailgate of his pickup and grabbed the passenger side door handle.

“No!” Leigh Ann yelled, but Mr. Brownhat had already opened the door and was reaching inside. She raced over. “Get back! If the gas tank catches fire…”

“I've got to save the ceremonial items in these two boxes,” he said, handing her a cardboard box, then reaching for the second. “What's in them can't be replaced!”

She took the box and hurried with him to the porch, where they placed both boxes on the floor against the wall.

“Got all the important stuff,” he said, nodding. “Thanks.” He joined Jo down in the parking lot and together they watched as the flames finally went out and the smoke disappeared. All that remained was the acrid scent of melted rubber. Detective McGraw stepped back. In the distance a siren was wailing.

“Not a total loss,” Jo said, coming up to the porch to join Leigh Ann. “Good thing we keep a fire extinguisher in every room.”

“You saved what's important,” Rudy said, shaking McGraw's hand, then Jo and Leigh Ann's next.

“Unfortunately, you're not driving home in that truck, uncle,” Jo observed.

“How'd the fire start?” Sam asked from the edge of the porch. The smoke had dwindled to a trickle, but there was a big puddle of nasty black tire residue on the gravel.

Detective McGraw, still holding the CO
2
extinguisher, squatted down to look underneath the engine. “This was no accident. Somebody splashed gasoline onto the tire and threw a match.” He pointed toward the remains of a wooden match resting in the puddle of gooey rubber.

“Just our luck that you drive an unmarked car, Detective. A patrol cruiser might have deterred the attack,” Jo said, glancing around as the fire truck approached.

“Yeah, I hear you,” McGraw said, then turned around. “Do any of you have any idea who's behind this?”

Rudy looked down at the ground, then after a long beat, looked back up. “I might.”

“I could add a name or two to the list,” Leigh Ann muttered, “particularly if this was meant as a warning.”

“As soon as the fire department is done here, we'll put up a sign stating we won't be opening until ten, lock the doors, and meet in the break room,” Jo said.

*   *   *

Thirty minutes later they were all gathered in the break room. Leigh Ann noticed that Regina's hands were shaking as she poured coffee for everyone from the staff pot, which was located on a small filing cabinet.

Detective McGraw, seated at the head of the table, glanced around the room. “I've read the incident reports about what's been happening to you in the last few weeks. Now I want to hear any details or ideas you might have, anything that you didn't bother telling the police. Who wants to start?”

“All we have are guesses,” Leigh Ann said. “Like the fire, for instance. None of us saw whoever did that to Rudy's truck, but we have our suspicions.”

“Some of you have made dangerous enemies recently. Let's focus on that,” McGraw said.

Jo nodded and looked at Rudy. It wasn't her place to tell her teacher's story.

Rudy took a deep breath. “This is difficult for me,” he said at last. “As a
hataalii,
people confide in me, and breaking that trust in any way has consequences.”

“If you have knowledge of a crime, and you don't come forward, you become an accessory,” the detective warned.

Rudy spoke slowly, choosing his words. “A patient came to me with great concerns about his job and the possibility of corruption within our tribal government. I began looking into the matter on my own. I wanted to restore balance to my patient and our tribe. Eventually, I met the director of Range and Livestock Management at a wedding, but when I spoke to him, the man instantly went on the offensive. He even threatened me. I had no proof of anything, so I kept quiet, but recently he sent his assistant to remind me again.”

“Uh-oh,” Leigh Ann said softly.

The detective looked at her. “Is there a problem?”

Leigh Ann bit her bottom lip, aware of what she was doing. “I think I'm seeing a connection between Rudy's and Jo's problems, and mine.”

“What's your connection to tribal politics?” McGraw asked.

“Personally, none, but my late husband Kurt was involved with a tribal official named Lewis Sorrelhorse, the same person Rudy spoke about. I don't know what their association was, but Sorrelhorse's name appeared in my husband's notebook, the one I found and turned in to your department.”

“Do any of you have proof that Sorrelhorse is behind what's been happening?” McGraw asked.

Leigh Ann told him what Melvin had heard and how he'd identified Sorrelhorse's voice on TV.

“Was he one hundred percent certain of that ID?” the detective asked her.

“Yeah, and Melvin's hearing is nothing short of remarkable. If he says that's who he heard, you can count on it.”

“I'll examine the notebook you turned in a little closer,” McGraw said, then looked from face to face. “So you all agree that there's a commonality—well, a possible commonality—to all that's happened?”

“In my mind, the link is there—Sorrelhorse, the owners of Total Supply, the death of my husband, and the troubles Jo, Rudy, Melvin, and I have had,” Leigh Ann said. “Those are way too many connections to believe this is all just coincidence.”

Jo nodded. “I agree completely. So what now?” she asked the detective.

“This new information is a great lead, but it's not evidence. I'll have to do some more digging and get some help from the Navajo police, too.” He looked around the table. “In the meantime, I strongly suggest that you all watch each other's backs. Don't get caught off guard or go out alone. Since we don't know for certain who's behind all this, trust no one outside this room and keep quiet about your suspicions.”

Leigh Ann accompanied McGraw to the building's front door so she could let him out and lock up again once he left. When she came back to the break room, she found the others sitting in silence.

“The real question,” she said, “is what should we do next?”

“I have to return to my medicine hogan. I have other patients coming,” Rudy said, standing.

“Uncle,” Jo said, “your truck's out of commission, and you'll need to have it towed to a garage. Take my pickup for the time being.” She held out her keys.

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. All I need is a ride home. My wife's cousin has a second car. I'll borrow hers until my truck's fixed,” he said. “If I can use your phone, I'll call my mechanic in Shiprock and have him come to get my pickup.”

“All right,” Jo said. “Leigh Ann, could you take care of things here until I get back? I'll have my cell phone, so if the army contacts me—email, phone call, or whatever—let me know.”

“Jo, why don't you stay here and let me give Mr. Brownhat a ride?” Leigh Ann asked. Jo seemed to be a bundle of nervous energy waiting for word on Ben. She'd be better off here in case news did come.