I was coming on strong and figured she’d had about enough, but she only stood there with a hand on her revolver like I might try and take it away. After a while she crossed her arms and changed the subject again. “I heard you talking about an important piece of information we’re in possession of that the FBI doesn’t know about?”
I continued sipping my coffee. “While Clarence was in custody last night, somebody tried to kill me.”
She stepped in close with a little more urgency in her voice. “What?”
“You don’t know anybody who drives a maroon ’7 °Chevy half-ton with Cherry Bomb mufflers, do you?”
“What happened?”
“Somebody tried to run me over on 212 as I did the walk of shame to Lonnie’s last night.”
She thought about it. “Maybe it was just some pissed-off Indian who saw a cowboy walking along the side of the road.”
“There seemed to be a lot more intention in the act.”
“You get a plate?”
“No, there wasn’t one. Besides, I was trying to get away before being turned into a hood ornament.” She looked up at me, and I repeated. “Maroon ’7 °Chevy half-ton, Cherry Bomb mufflers.”
I watched as she retreated to the parking lot, her Yukon, and the two-way radio, in that order, and then thought about all the people who were probably angry with me right now. There was a phone at the nurse’s station, and I figured Chief Long’s mother wouldn’t mind if I made a few phone calls.
I punched in the number for my office and waited.
“Absaroka County Sheriff’s Office.”
“Well, as it happens, this is the Absaroka County sheriff.”
She fumbled with the receiver, the fancy one with the little neck cradle she used for extenuating circumstances; I probably led the league in extenuating circumstances. “Boy, mister, are you in trouble.”
I sighed and whispered my daughter’s name so that she might not hear me close to two thousand miles away. “Cady?”
“Oh, yes, and I wouldn’t want to be you about now.” There was a rustling of papers, and she spoke to someone else about getting Saizarbitoria, the Basque percentage of my staff, to do a little paper serving. “I don’t have time for you, but your undersheriff is on the other line; would you like me to patch her through?”
“Sure.”
The next voice was full of Philadelphia-ese-where “good luck with that” translated as “go fuck yourself.”
“Have you been abducted by the Indians?”
I smiled at Victoria Moretti’s tone. “Kind of. I’m in the process of giving sheriff lessons.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story; there’s been some drama up here on the Rez.”
“There’s always drama with you; you’re like a traveling troupe.” She sighed. “So, are we in the first, second, or third act?”
I thought about it. “Hard to tell; Henry and I saw a woman fall off a cliff up here, and we’re in the process of finding out who might’ve done it.”
“Isaac Newton?”
“She was carrying a child-boy, about six months.” There was no flippant repartee for that. “The boy is in the hospital and appears to be all right, but I’ve got a new chief of tribal police up here who is getting crowded by the bureau.”
You could almost hear her teeth grind.
“How’s Omaha?”
“It’s still in Nebraska.”
Ruby must have finished dispatching and got on the line again. “You know you’ve got an entire list of people who are trying to get hold of you, Walter?”
“I figured.”
“Lana Baroja called about the cake design, Rosalie Little Thunder from Rapid City called about the dress, the management for Jalan Crossland called and wants to know if there will be electricity at the site of the reception…”
I made a sound in the back of my throat. “I don’t know the answers to any of those questions.”
“Who does?”
“How about Cady?”
Vic chuckled. “I gotta go.”
There was a click as Ruby continued. “Cady’s called eight times in the last two days. Would you like me to call her for you and patch you in?”
I was quick to respond to that. “No.”
“I thought not.” She was trying to hold her temper. “Walter, we have a growing situation on our hands and you’re not helping.”
“What about Henry-have you talked to him? I thought he was the wedding planner.”
Her voice became even more forceful. “He is organizing the tribal portion of the wedding; the rest is up to you. Speaking of, how is the tribal portion of the preparations going?”
I thought about how little progress I’d been making for Cady’s wedding; I glanced at the receiver and thought about where I could go and hide when Hazel Long returned and smiled at me. “Ruby, excuse me for a minute.” I held the phone on my shoulder. “Hazel, could you loan me a pen and paper?”
She nodded and placed both on the upper counter between us.
“Thanks.”
I noticed that Chief Long had returned from the parking lot and joined Clarence as they stood a little away from each other in the doorway across the hall, Lolo’s eyes giving me an exasperated high sign.
I continued to hold the phone against myself as if I were attempting to smother it and looked down at what seemed to be the only friendly eyes in the hospital. “Hey Hazel, can I ask you a really big favor?” She smiled, and I could’ve kissed her. “I’ve got an angry dispatcher by the name of Ruby on the other end of this line who has an entire list of angry people who want to yell at me. Is there any way I could get you to write that list down?”
She held out her capable hands, and I deposited my life’s problems into them. As I turned around, I almost bumped into Lolo, who had walked over with Last Bull. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to take Clarence home and then make a run to Rabbit Town over on the other side of the Rez, and I think you’d better come along.”
I glanced back toward the room they had come from. “Is Dog in with Adrian?”
“Yeah.” She gestured toward her mother, who was still scribbling away. “Mom put food and water and even a bed in there, but he hasn’t touched any of it. Do you want to look in on the two of them before we go?”
I cracked the door open and could see Dog’s large head rise up from the other side of the bed. I whispered, “Just because you’re on guard doesn’t mean you have to go without food and water, you know?” He wagged once and then settled in again as I studied the sleeping child, who seemed to be resting comfortably. The little body was so small, and I thought about what Henry had said one time about the world being hard on little things. Adrian Plain Feather had overcome some pretty spectacular odds so far, and who knew, maybe he’d be all right.
I closed the door and crossed back to the group, joining Chief Long as she studied me. “You don’t really think that dog understands what you’re saying, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
The automatic doors swooshed aside, and we were suddenly confronted with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, complete with a smiling Cliff Cly and a phalanx of two other federal agents. The AIC straightened the folder under his arm. “How’s the kid?”
I shrugged. “Still not talking.”
“I hate using the rubber hose on infants, but you gotta get results.” He folded his arms. “Am I mistaken or are you not only out of your jurisdiction but in the wrong state?”
“You are not mistaken. I’m in Montana because Cady’s getting married up here next week and I’m making arrangements.”
He looked genuinely surprised, but with Cly you never knew. “This the daughter I talked to on the phone at the bar in Absalom?”
“Yep.”
He levitated his eyebrows, a look which expressed a loss of options. “Damn, I was hoping to meet her before she got hitched.”