“Hunting!” The spit flew from his lips, and his face moved near mine. “You had part of that elk; you saw it, did it seem fresh to you?”
I nodded. “It did.”
“I went after another one; now let me out.”
“It’s not that easy, Artie. The Feds are convinced that you did it because of the recording, and we haven’t come up with anything that counters that very impressive piece of evidence.”
“That conversation never happened.” He pushed off the bars. “I never spoke to her husband, what’s his name?”
“His name was Clarence.” Burns’s voice rose from the back, and one look at him told you that he wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but he was Kelly Joe after all, and silence was not one of his strong suits.
“Clarence?”
I nodded.
“I had an argument with a guy named Clarence in the parking lot of the White Buffalo one time.”
“About?”
“He left his stupid Jeep in front of the gas pump while he was serenading some teenager. I told him to move it or I was going to get all Crazy Horse on his ass.”
I looked past Artie and raised my voice so that Kelly Joe would know I was speaking to him. “You ever have any dealings with Clarence Last Bull?”
He pulled at the collar of his T-shirt, feeling the heat from me and his tattoo, and then tried to cover it by resting his chin on his knees. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Okay.” I pushed off the bars, leaving a few fingers on the steel like I was loath to leave. “I can see how it is that you wouldn’t want to bother to help Artie with his problems. Chief Long and I are going to walk out of here in about two minutes anyway, so you two are going to have plenty of time to talk about things and work it all out.”
Artie Small Song turned to look at Kelly Joe Burns.
The drug dealer slowly raised himself up and stood on the bunk with his back against the concrete blocks. “Hey, hey, wait a minute. I want my own cell.”
I kept my eyes on Burns but tossed my voice over to the chief. “Anything available?”
She shrugged. “Not just now-housekeeping might have something later.”
I turned back to him. “Looks like you’ve got a roommate for a while.”
His hands came out, attempting to hold the air between himself and Artie. “Look, it was purely business. Clarence dealt in bud-that was all. Sometimes he ran short, and I’d front him product. That’s all.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Kelly. Why would the Feds be interested? It’s not exactly high on their substance abuse table.”
The drug dealer continued to keep his eyes on Small Song. “How the hell should I know; go ask them. What the fuck-you think they’re pals of mine?”
Lolo’s voice sounded from the hallway where she now stood. “That’s okay, white boy, they’re gonna be.”
I joined her, and we started out.
“Hey, wait a minute!”
I turned and looked back at him-Artie had moved closer to Kelly Joe and was now standing in front of the corner bunk where you could hear his fists clinching, the sound like bark tightening.
“What?”
“I could make you a list of users.”
Chief Long crossed her arms. “Oh, you and the Federales are going to get along.”
Small Song leaned in closer to him. “You scumbag.”
“Artie?”
He turned his head and looked at me. I suppressed the smile that was growing on my lips and gestured for Small Song to move. “Give him a little room, Artie.” I waited until he stepped away. “How is that going to help us, Kelly Joe?”
He seemed relieved to have even the smallest amount of breathing room. “It would be all the people that Clarence had anything to do with.”
I turned to Lolo. “You think we can trust Mr. Burns in your offices if we give him a pencil and paper to make a list?”
She looked at him. “If we handcuff him to the radiator.”
I turned back to the drug dealer. “You right- or left-handed?”
I joined my family at the Law Enforcement Center parking lot as they sunbathed in Henry’s convertible. The Cheyenne Nation leaned against the front fender and pointed at a mark on the hood of the ’59 Thunderbird about a quarter of an inch in length. “You scratched my car.”
“I’ll buy you some rubbing compound or one of those bulldog hood ornaments with the eyes that bug out and light up.”
He closed his eyes, canting his head toward the sun’s rays like some Algonquin sunflower, as he always did. “I understand you arrested Kelly Joe Burns?”
“The chief did.”
The Bear silently applauded. “Bravo.”
I looked at Cady, who was applying suntan lotion to her feet. “How was your discussion with Arbutis Little Bird?”
“I made a deal with her. They won’t reschedule, but I convinced them that we could combine the wedding with the language immersion retreat.”
Lena adjusted her sunglasses. “I am beginning to think that your daughter could litigate ice from an Eskimo.”
I walked the rest of the way around Lola and looked at the two exquisite women, replete with bikini tops and suntan oil, towels lying over the reclined seats of the T-Bird. “A Cheyenne language immersion retreat and your wedding-how are you going to manage that?”
“It’s going to be traditional, performed entirely in Cheyenne.” Cady tipped her Prada sunglasses up and looked at me with her frank, gray eyes. “We convinced her that it was a wonderful opportunity for the students to experience the Cheyenne language in a unique context.”
I glanced at Lena, who had yet to move. “How does the Moretti contingency feel about that?”
The mother-in-law-to-be rolled her head toward me. “ He’ehe’e, na-tsehese-nestse.”
I shook my head and watched the traffic on 212. “The two of you wouldn’t want to work on this homicide case, would you?”
Cady removed her glasses completely but shaded her eyes with a hand. “I thought you arrested somebody?”
“We did, but it’s the wrong guy.”
A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “What about the drug dealer?”
“He’s in the office making a list of known associates of the deceased, but I don’t think he did it either.”
“Sounds like you’ve got more real work to do.”
“Yep, but…”
“We don’t need you.”
I was a little hurt. “At all?”
She caught my tone of voice and sat up, turning in the seat and pulling herself onto the sill, clutching onto my shirt in a playful manner. “I always need you, but I don’t need you this afternoon if you’ve got things to do.” She looked at the shirt in her fingers, especially the name PRETTY WEASEL. “Did you hire on?”
“I just needed a clean shirt.”
“It’s not that clean.” She studied me, with the smile she reserved for me playing on her lips. “Repeat after me- Na-he-stonahanotse.”
“What does it mean?”
She was more emphatic this time. “Repeat- Na-he-stonahanotse.”
“ Na-he-stonahanotse.”
She nodded at my pronunciation. “Good, now try this one: E-hestana.”
“ E-hestana.”
“Now put them together.”
I thought. “ Na-he-stonahanotse. E-hestana. Now, what did I just say?”
“This is my daughter; he may take her.”
Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I felt my knees give just a little bit. I swallowed and could feel my eyes well and just hoped that she wouldn’t notice, but of course she did.
Her eyes softened, and she placed her head against my chest. “I’m getting married, Daddy.”
I laughed, but it was short and choked in my throat. “Yep, I guess it just hit me.” She pulled her head back, and I swept a wave of the strawberry blonde hair away, just a little damp from the sunbathing.
“You won’t have to worry about me so much.”
“Right.”
She continued to smile. “I’m settling down and having a baby; things get easy from here on out, right?”
I shook my head. “Oh, yeah.”
“We’re stealing the Bear and going to Billings for supplies, but we’ll be back tonight with another Moretti.”
“The groom?”
She smiled. “ He’ehe’e — I asked him if he could come early and help, and besides, I kind of miss him. The rest of the family is staying in Denver till the last hour so we don’t have to worry as much about the rooms, which, by the way, were okay. Michael, Lena, Henry, you-we’re all having dinner.”