Navajo's Woman (9 page)

Andi grabbed Joe's arm and gazed into his eyes. "If the boys are there at Doli's uncle's home, Russ is going to balk when he sees you. He still blames you for what happened to our father."

"Just as you do."

"It's different for Russ. He's only a boy and he doesn't deal with his emotions rationally sometimes."

"Are you saying Russ might shoot me on sight?"

"No, damn it, that's not what I'm saying." Andi gritted her teeth. "I'm asking that when we get to Jefferson Nastas's home, you stay in the SUV and let me go in and check things out. Okay?"

"Sure. You know your brother better than I do. The last thing I want is to scare him off."

"Why don't you pack us a couple of sandwiches, and we'll pick up some bottled water at a store somewhere. I need to get dressed so we can leave as soon as possible."

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"Go." Joe waved his hand, shooing her from the kitchen. "I'll fix the sandwiches and a thermos of coffee, after I call J.T."

Charlie Kirk had tailed people before, so he knew what he was doing. His main objective was to not let the boys catch on that they were being followed. He'd been damn lucky that a friend of a friend had spotted the stolen truck early this morning and had called Mr. Lanza instead of getting in touch with the police. But then, Mr. Lanza paid better for information than the police did.

His orders were to kill the boys.And to do it incon-spicuously. Hit them when they were alone, if possible, or when they were around the fewest number of people. Eliminate all witnesses. And make sure nothing pointed a finger at Mr. Lanza.

If he'd found Russ Lapahie and Eddie Whitehorn last night, he could have done the job quickly and easily. But now they were on the move, going northwest and still within the reservation boundaries.

Where the hell were they headed? Charlie wondered. He'd just have to wait and see, and then, when the time was right, he would strike.

Jefferson Nastas lived in the foothills of the sparse Na-vajo land and was the proud owner of a small cattle herd. His sons-in-law and grandsons now worked the cattle for him. A widower for three years, he was all but retired and had moved into a small house that had been built for him by his family. His days were filled with peace and con-tentment. Occasionally he would ride his horse the three miles that separated him from his grandchildren and visit them for an afternoon. From time to time, a relative or a friend would come by to pass the time with him, and he would always make them welcome. But for the most part, he preferred his solitude.

Today, he sat outside in an old rocking chair, the mid-day sun warm on his face, as he finished his daily medi-tation. Although his eyesight was not what it used to be, his hearing had not diminished. He heard the vehicle long before it reached his home. A truck, he surmised, going at top speed around the winding dirt road. Within minutes he noted a cloud of dust rising into the air, coming toward him like a whirlwind.

He didn't move from his chair as he awaited his visitors' arrival.

He did not recognize the truck or the two Navajo youths who emerged from it. But they were several yards away, and he did not wear his glasses when he meditated.

"Uncle Jefferson," the taller boy called to him.

He recognized that voice, and when the boys drew nearer he saw that one of them possessed a familiar face.

"Russell Lapahie, Jr.," Jefferson said."The son of my sister's daughter. You are welcome here."

"Thank you," the boy replied.

A look of fear showed plainly in the eyes of both young braves.The fear of those being chased by evil.

"You will introduce me to your friend?" Jefferson's gaze traveled over the skinny, silent boy.

"Oh, yeah, sorry.Uncle Jefferson, this is my friend, Eddie Whitehorn."

Jefferson nodded. “You are thirsty?Or hungry?''

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"Yes, but food and water can wait," Russ said. "Eddie and I need your help. We have gotten ourselves into some trouble, and I didn't know where else to go."

Jefferson rose slowly, lifting the cane propped against the side of his rocker. Using the cane to aid his unsteady steps, he showed the boys into his humble home.

“We will eat and drink first, and then you will tell me what trouble has sent you to me."

Reluctantly the two boys joined him in his noonday meal, the three of them gathered about the small wooden table. Jefferson saw that the boys were hungry, but too nervous to eat much.

"Does your mother know that you have come to see me?'' Jefferson looked directly at Russ.

"No, sir."

“You have run away from home?''

"No, sir.Not exactly.You see Eddie andI. . .well, we were someplace we shouldn't have been and I saw some-thing. . . I saw a man kill another man. And now the police think Eddie and I were involved."

“Why did you not go to the police and tell them what happened?''

"Look, maybe I'd better start at the beginning and tell you everything. That way, you'll know why we can't go back. It's not just the police who are after us, but the man who shot this other man—he's after us, too."

"Yes, it is good that you begin at the beginning and tell me everything."

Andi wasn't sure she would ever get used to the odd combination of desolation and colorful beauty that com-prised a great section of the Navajo land. As they ap-proached the turnoff to the cattle ranch owed by Jefferson Nastas and his family, several windmills sprang up along-side the road. Towering metal sentinels. Wind-driven pumps used to gather drinking water in tanks for the herds.

"Look," Andi said. "There's a truck parked there be-side the house. And it has New Mexico license plates. Do you think it might be Russ and Eddie?"

"I can't believe we'll be lucky enough to find the boys still here," Joe replied."Seems too easy.Besides, where would they get a truck?''

"They could have borrowed the truck."

"Or stole it."

Andi gave Joe a hard look,then pulled her Expedition up alongside the truck. "You stay here. If Russ is inside, he's not going to want to see you."

"I'll wait. But yoube very careful." He grabbed her arm. "I think you should take my gun with you."

"What?"

"I have a rifle, too," he reminded her. "But just in case—''

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"I don't need protection from my own brother!" She jerked free from Joe's hold.

"I wasn't thinking about Russ being a threat. You need to remember that if the boys didn't kill Bobby Yazzi, someone else did. And that someone will want the boys to keep quiet."

"There's no way the real killer could know where the boys are." Andi opened the door, jumped down and headed toward the house. Before she reached her desti-nation, an old man appeared from inside and, shading his eyes from the sun, greeted her.

"Ya'at'eeh,"Jefferson Nastas said.

"Mr. Nastas?" Andi asked.

He nodded."Hash yinilye?"

Andi didn't speak Saad, but she knew enough of the language to understand that the old man had asked her name. Using her limited knowledge of the language, she replied,"Yinish'yeAndrea Stevens. Russ Lapahie is my brother. I was born in my mother's world of the white people. And I was born for the Red RunningInto the Water clan."

"Yes, Doli has spoken of you. She tells me you are a good woman." The old man inspected Andi thoroughly,then said, "You are looking for young Russell."

"Is he here?"

“He and his friend, Eddie Whitehorn, were here a few hours ago. That is their truck—the truck they borrowed." Jefferson nodded toward the old vehicle.

"Where are they now?"

“Who is that you have with you?''Jefferson, who wore a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, studied the occupant of the SUV.

Now what? Andi wondered. Did she tell Doli's uncle the truth? If Doli had spoken to him about the man she held responsible for her husband's death, how would Mr. Nastas react to meeting Joe?

"He is a friend who has come with me to search for Russ and Eddie. He is Eddie's uncle and is as concerned about the boys as I am."

“Tell him to get out of the car, and I will tell you both where I have sent the young braves."

"You know where they are?"

"Yes, I know."

Andi motioned to Joe, her hand gestures inviting him to join her. While Joe introduced himself, Andi held her breath, wondering if Jefferson Nastas would refuse to help them once he knew Joe's identity. To her surprise, the old man's facial expression didn't alter in the least, but she did note a change in his cloudy brown eyes.

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“You are working together to save these young braves from theLadrones.Yes?''

Joe nodded. "Yes,Hosteen,we need to find Russ and Eddie before these bad men harm them."

Andi noticed Jefferson Nastas's expression soften slightly when Joe referred to him with the word meaning "old man," a term of great respect.

"I have sent Russell, Jr. and his friend up into the mountains to see Edmund Kieyoomia. He is a wise ya-taaliiand will know the right way to guide two such asthey ."

"You sent them to see a shaman?" Andi had spent five years trying to understand her father's people, but at times like this she wondered if she ever would. Of course, send-ing the boys to a shaman was the Native equivalent of sending them to a minister or rabbi or priest for spiritual advice. And yet, seeking out a revered shaman entailed much more, which was understood completely only by a people who believed in the magic and the power these men possessed.

"How far away does this shaman live?" Joe asked. "And did the boys go on foot?"

"Edmund's hogan is in the mountains. On horseback you can reach it in perhaps two hours," Jefferson said. "I let the young ones take my horses."

"And if we drive the Expedition, how long will it—"

"You cannot drive your vehicle. There are no roads.Only pathways."

Great! Andi thought. Russ's great-uncle had given his horses to the boys to ride, so just how were she and Joe supposed to follow them? “Now what?'' she asked Joe.

"HosteenNastas, is there somewhere we can get horses, so that we can follow Russ and Eddie to Edmund Kieyoomia's?"

"I will ride with you in your vehicle to my eldest daughters', and there you may get two horses."

Charlie Kirk wasn't a horseman, but it didn't take an expert to handle the mare he'd stolen. However, he wasn't accustomed to tracking his prey up into the desolate hills or trying to stay a discreet distance behind when it was possible to lose his quarry at any given moment. This godforsaken land might be the home of his grandmother and her ancestors, but he'd been born and raised in the white man's world and only a quarter of his blood tied him to the Navajo. Some folks didn't even know he had a drop of Indian blood flowing in his veins.

When the boys dismounted and began leading their mounts, Charlie did the same. Where thehell were they going—and why? Had the old man they'd gone to see sent them to some sort of hideout up here in the moun-tains?

He had intended to go in and kill the boys and the old man, but before he'd gotten a chance to make a move, another truck had shown up, the bed filled with half a dozen kids. They hadn't stayed long, but long enough for young Lapahie and Eddie Whitehorn to saddle up and head out. The old man had to be a relative. Only a relative would be helping the boys run from the police. And see-ing as neither Russ nor Eddie panicked and ran when the others showed up out of nowhere meant they had to be family, too.

Charlie tied the reins around a tree to secure his horse,then climbed up the rocky pathway. When he
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reached the top he saw an old stone hogan, a smokestack protruding through the mud roof. Wonder who lives here? Charlie mused.Another relative?

He waited while the boys tied their reins to a wooden hitching post outside the hogan, then went to the door and knocked. A couple of minutes later, the door opened and the boys went inside.

He figured that as small as the hogan was, there couldn't be more than two or three other people inside, but more than likely it was just some old hermit living way up here in the middle of nowhere. Charlie would simply bide his time and see if anyone else came or went. Then, when his instincts told him it was time to act, he'd move in—for the kill.

Joe dismounted and then assisted Andi. They led the horses, borrowed from Jefferson Nastas's son-in-law, the rest of the way up the uneven slope. The first thing Joe noticed when they reached the top and saw the stone ho-gan was that the shaman's home had been constructed according to tradition, the builder following the Navajo Way.One doorway, facing the east. East was the direction of all beginnings.

"Look—" Andi pointed. "The door is open."

"I don't see any horses around, do you?"

"No. And I don't like it. Something's wrong here. I can just feel it."

"We couldn't be more than a few hours behind those boys," Joe said. "Damn it! I was sure they'd still be here."

"They're taking us on a wild-goose chase, aren'tthey. If only we could catch them and talk to them. We have to make them understand the danger they're in from the real killer."

"They're a couple of frightened boys who obviously aren't thinking straight and don't realize that they would be safer in police custody than running around on their own." Joe grasped Andi's arm. "You stay out here while I go in and talk to Edmund Kieyoomia. It's possible that he advised the boys to give themselves up to the Tribal Police, and they're headed back to civilization right now."

"We can only hope that they're safe and that the sha-man did advise them to do the right thing." Andi clutched Joe's hand and forcefully removed it from her arm. "Why should I stay out here?''