“The pouch. Was that like one of ours?”
“About the same. But it had a sort of Anasazi-looking symbol stitched into it. Big figure with a tiny head, very broad upper torso, tiny stick legs.”
“Any ideas about that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a clan totem, or a symbol of one of his tribe’s spirits.”
“Didn’t look like any of the tribal figures you’d recognize, then?”
“No, but I’ve never had much contact with any of those tribes that far down the Colorado.” Leaphorn chuckled. “I sort of neglected to give the pouch back to Shorty when I returned his diamond. Thought I’d show it to Louisa when she gets back. She’s down in the canyon now, collecting her oral histories from the Havasupais.”
“Well, thanks again,” Chee said. “I guess I’ll have to actually find that guy and ask him about it. And if something comes up and you need to find me, you have my cell phone number.”
“Ah. Yeah. I think I wrote it down.”
That concluded the conversation and left Chee to decide what to do about it. He’d call Dashee, of course. Discuss it with him. Find out what he wanted to do. But first he had to call Bernie.
He dialed her number. Thinking what he could have told Leaphorn if he wanted to confess the truth. He could have said he hadn’t told Bernie he loved her a long time ago because he was afraid. Cowardice prevented it. It hurt when he learned that Mary Landon didn’t want him. She wanted the dairy farmer she could make out of him. Lonely again after that. It hurt even more when he finally understood that he was just the token Navajo to Janet, someone to be taken back to Washington and civilized. Even lonelier than before. And when he found Bernie, right under his nose, he knew here was his chance. The really right one. He loved everything about her. But he was too damned scared to make the move. What if she rejected him? Mary and Janet, they’d found him someone they could mold into what they wanted. But he had found Bernie. And if she turned him down, he’d never find anyone like her. He’d never have a wife. He’d always be lonely, all the rest of his life.
He listened to Bernie’s number ring nine times before he decided she wasn’t home. And then he called Dashee. Told him the good news first, and then the bad news.
“I know,” Dashee said. “I think that clerk and that widow are both lying, with the widow telling the clerk what to say. But the sheriff doesn’t. And I don’t think old Shorty McGinnis’s story is going to change his mind.”
“Afraid you’re right,” Chee said.
Dashee sighed. “You know, Jim, I gotta go down there, anyway. Down to that canyon bottom and see if I can find that old man. Or somebody who knows about him. Or something. Billy’s had too much tough luck. And nobody to help him.”
Chee said nothing to that. He’d foreseen it. He knew Cowboy too well to expect any less of him. He took a deep breath.
“Do you think you’re going to need some help?”
“Well, I was hoping you’d ask.”
“When are you going down there? And how you going? And here’s a harder question: How you going to go about this business? Finding a maybe imaginary old man that trades diamonds for things?”
“Sooner the better, is the first answer. And I’m going to make Billy Tuve come along and show me just exactly where he made that trade and try to retrace where the old man he dealt with might have gone in that little bit of time he was gone. What do you think?”
“How many years ago did that happen? Many, many, wasn’t it?”
“Billy’s always been very vague about chronology. Ever since that horse fell on him.”
“So maybe it was ten years, or twenty. Or maybe the old man was out of sight thirty minutes, or thirty hours, or several days?”
“It’s not that bad,” Dashee said. “He tries.”
“So what’s plan number two?”
“While Billy and I are looking for the diamond man along the river, I thought you might be mingling among the old folks in the Havasupai settlement. You’ve had a couple of cases down there. Know some people, don’t you? Know a little of their language?”
“Damn little,” Chee said. “And all I was doing was looking for stolen property. You don’t make friends doing that.”
Dashee made a sort of dismissive sound. Or was it just frustration?
“Hell, Jim,” he said. “I know it’s a long shot. But what am I going to do? Billy’s my cousin. It’s family. I’m a religious sort of man, you know. So are you. Sometimes we have to just make ourselves an opportunity to get some outside help from the Higher Power. Call it luck, or whatever.”
Chee considered that for a while. “How soon you want to do this?”
“Right away, I think. The sheriff sounded like they might be revoking the bond, with that new story they have about the diamond. I thought I’d drive over to Second Mesa in the morning and pick him up before they get the revocation order.”
“I’ll have to call you back, Cowboy. I’m supposed to get with Bernie tomorrow. You know how it is before a wedding. All sorts of planning stuff.”
“So I can’t exactly count on you?”
“Well, you probably can. I’ll call you.”
The telephone rang just after he ended that call. It was Bernie. She’d noticed his number on her “missed calls” tattletale. “What’s up?” she said.
“Well,” Chee said, “how do I start?”
“You start by telling me you miss me and just wanted to hear the sound of my voice.”
“All true, but I also wanted to know what you have planned for us. You were telling me we need to get together. To do some planning.” He paused. “And maybe some other things.”
Bernie laughed. “Other things are more fun,” she said. “But we do have to find a place to live. Unless you’re going to change your mind and make that trailer of yours our bridal suite. I hope that wasn’t what you were calling to tell me.”
“No,” Chee said. “But now I’ve got something else on my mind. Remember Cowboy Dashee’s problem?”
“Sort of,” Bernie said. “His cousin accused of shooting that store operator at Zuni, and trying to pawn that big diamond?”
“Well, now it’s worse. The store owner’s widow and a former clerk at the store are claiming the homicide victim owned the diamond. Dashee thinks the sheriff is going to have the bond revoked, put Tuve back in lockup. Dashee’s going down into the canyon. Try to find the old man he claims gave Tuve the diamond. He wants me to go along.”
“When?”
“Right away. Like tomorrow.”
“Hey,” Bernie said. “That sounds like fun. I haven’t been down there since I was a teenager.”
Chee looked away from the telephone, through the window, at the cloud building over the mountains. Would Bernie ever stop being unpredictable?
“That sounds like you want to go along?”
“Yes, indeed,” Bernie said.
“Bernie, going down on a school bus with a bunch of kids won’t be anything like this. That must’ve been some sort of campground with a road to it. No roads this time. This is going all the way to the bottom. Climbing down several thousand feet or so. Rough going. And then we may get stuck down there a day or two, depending on what luck we have finding anything. It’s going to be tough.”
That produced an extended silence.
Chee said, “Bernie?”
Bernie said, “Jim. I want you to remember. I’m not Officer Bernadette Manuelito, rookie cop, anymore. I resigned from your squad. Now I’m on leave from the U.S. Border Patrol. So I’m not talking to you as Sergeant Chee now. Okay? Now, tell me what makes you think you’re any better at climbing down into canyons than I am.”
“On leave! I thought you’d resigned.”
“Well, I sort of did. But they put me on some sort of medical leave. Sort of let me know I could get my job back if I wanted it.”
This was making Jim Chee very nervous.
“Bernie,” he said. “I thought…”