Tattered Legacy (A Nora Abbott Mystery) (13 page)

Twenty

Another sunrise on Lisa’s
front porch. More corn dust tossed in gratitude for another day. Another appeal to the spirits of her father’s clan. More silence.

Maybe the kachina only showed up when Nora faced real, physical danger or when he had something he wanted her to do. But she’d like a personal deity to wrap some support around her. She’d probably lost Cole, someone she thought she’d love for a lifetime. Would it be so much to ask she not lose her imaginary spirit as well?

When the kachina first appeared to Nora on her mountain in Flagstaff, she’d been terrified. There are hundreds of Hopi kachinas that represent everything from animals and nature to ancestors. They generally show up for ceremonies and dances or appear in clouds to rain on the desert corn. The kachina that visited Nora was an old Hopi
kikmongwi
, or chief, from the 1880s. Benny said he was her grandfather of many generations past. Benny knew this because the kachina was also his grandfather and they were in regular communication. If Nora hadn’t experienced the kachina’s visits, she might not believed what Benny said. Choosing to go along with Benny’s explanation let her believe she wasn’t a complete lunatic.

He appeared to her in Flagstaff so she would stop the manmade snow on the sacred peaks. He’d inexplicably shown up in Boulder last fall, just weeks before the strict Hopi calendar dictated all kachinas return to the three mesas in Arizona. Then he’d had another mission for her. She tried to convince herself he was only a figment of her over-active imagination.

But he’d saved her life in a very tangible way.

Despite Utah’s rising sun warming her face, Nora shivered remembering the Rocky Mountain peak last fall. She’d felt the freezing air of Mount Evans in a snowstorm, seconds before dawn.

Trapped on a ledge, her arm useless from a gunshot, a terrorist dead at her feet, Nora had no choice but to step into the rifle sight of a killer. The gunman held his rifle up, sighting into the scope.

Nora caught her breath. She knew the killer’s next shot would tear her apart.

But the shot never came.

The kachina appeared behind the killer. He held his hatchet high.

She’d been to the mesas, listened to Benny’s stories about the Hopi and their migrations. She’d prayed with him and walked the trails where the Hopi had lived for centuries. But since that morning on Mount Evans, her kachina remained silent.

Maybe she didn’t want him popping out at her all the time, but it might be nice if he’d let her know he still watched over her.

She remembered Benny’s words: “When Hopi know things are wrong, they look to themselves for personal responsibility.”

What had she done to chase the kachina away? She’d planted corn in pots all over her apartment and office as the Hopi instructed. She hadn’t been living simply, though—not if that meant growing her own food and not using electricity or any other convenience.

Benny told her that Hopi would reach a point of confusion because the modern world clashed with the traditional one. This world was in its fourth revision. The three previous worlds had ended when the leaders were corrupted by greed and power. Hopi prophesies warned it could happen again. Was Nora too steeped in the modern world?

A cupboard door banged in the kitchen behind Nora and she was suddenly back in the bright morning on the porch. She studied the yellow bloom of the blazing star in the front yard, still looking for the flash of her kachina’s blue sash. He’d abandoned her.

The siren scent of bacon called to her nose. Abigail knew Nora loved bacon and she’d be crisping slices in the microwave. The thought of her mother’s care lifted her heart a little. But if she wanted the comfort of the bacon, she’d best hurry inside before Abigail pulled her usual trick and blackened it.

The screen squealed open and banged softly behind Nora as she padded on bare feet to the kitchen in time to see Rachel slide a plate of bacon from the microwave.

Rachel’s stony face froze, then thawed slightly after a second. She banged the plate on the counter bar in front of Nora. “So, I hear you’re single now, too.”

It sounded harsh and the bacon wasn’t offered with gentleness, but it showed a modicum of sympathy. Nora plopped on a barstool. “Abigail told you.”

Rachel nodded.

“Single’s not so bad,” Nora said.

Rachel reached over and took a slice of bacon. She’d cooked it just the way Nora liked it, crisp enough to hold its shape but not charred.

“I don’t like single,” Rachel said.

Maybe she and Rachel could call a truce. “After my disaster of a first marriage, I can fully embrace living alone.” She tried to grin, but the words tasted bitter. She truly didn’t mind being single, but she hated the thought of losing Cole before ever really having him. She grabbed a piece of bacon and bit into it, tasting the salty, fatty goodness. An entire blue-ribbon pig cured and fried wouldn’t be enough to take away her pain, but this mouthful wouldn’t hurt.

Rachel stuffed a half a slice of bacon into her mouth, slid the last one off the plate and onto the counter in front of Nora, and reloaded the plate with raw slices. She covered it with paper towels and slapped it into the microwave to convert calories to comfort.

“I’ve never really been on my own,” Rachel said. She stared out the window toward Castle Rock.

Nora didn’t know much about Rachel. She’d come into Lisa’s life a few years ago. “What did you do before you met Lisa?”

Rachel’s inhale vibrated in her chest, as if she were fighting tears. She twirled around and checked the bacon through the microwave window. “I was married.”

Nora didn’t have to ask if Rachel was married to a man. Marlene was right; Rachel had not only stepped outside the lines, she’d leapt clear to another coloring book. Though if Rachel had been married before, it showed she had relationships with men in the past. Would it be such a stretch to think she might have another? And if so, why not an affair with Lee?

Nora tried to keep the suspicion from gaining a foothold. She needed to trust Lisa and Lisa had loved Rachel. “Will you stay here?” Nora asked.

The microwave dinged and Rachel reached in for the plate. “Where else would I go?” She didn’t sound defensive, and it appeared to be a legitimate question.

After the events in Flagstaff and she’d lost her husband, her business, and her entire direction in life, Nora fled to Boulder, where she’d grown up. She’d needed to back up before she could move forward. But Rachel had nowhere to back up to. And even though Nora had pushed him away, Cole had been there for her. Who did Rachel have?

Lee’s image popped into Nora’s head again.

Abigail’s footfalls sounded from the stairs. “What decadence do I smell?” She rounded the corner, coming to stand with her hands on her hips, surveying Nora and Rachel as though they’d broken into a bank. Abigail had sent a forlorn Charlie back to Flagstaff, in
sisting that she stay until Nora came to her senses.

Nora reached for the plate Rachel set on the counter and helped herself to another slice. “Ambrosia from the pork gods.”

Abigail lunged for Nora’s hand, but she quickly stuffed the bacon into her mouth. Abigail frowned at her. “You’ll never get Cole back if you let yourself get fat.”

“A few pieces of bacon aren’t going to ruin me. Cole doesn’t matter anyway.”

Abigail leaned toward the plate. “I suppose a little bacon won’t hurt.” She snagged a piece and savored a bite. “But you’re wrong about Cole. There’s an explanation for this alleged marriage, and when we find out, you’ll be sorry you were so hard on him.”

“Hard on him?” Nora choked out, wanting to start a tirade but realizing the futility and letting it drop. “So, you stayed in Moab to help me cope with my broken heart?”

Abigail made her way to the kitchen and reached for the coffee. “Absolutely not. There will be no feeling sorry for yourself. I’m here to make sure you don’t give up on Cole.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Rachel leaned back on the counter and watched their interplay.

Abigail measured coffee into a French press. She tapped the tea kettle on the stove, found the temperature acceptable, and poured the water on top of the grounds. “Frankly, I don’t know.”

Nora hopped off the stool. “Good. I’ve got a plan, then.”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

“You can take me to some of the places you and my father visited.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it will make me feel closer to him. Maybe I can learn something about him.”
Maybe a trip to Arches can take us to Fiery Furnace and I can figure out what Lisa wanted to tell me
.

“Well, that’s just more of your woo-woo mystic lunacy.”

Rachel’s eyes twinkled as though she watched a comedy.

She wouldn’t admit that her mother might be right. So far, Nora didn’t feel any real connection to her father and her Hopi ties felt shaky. If she didn’t find Lisa’s camera, she might lose her job. Cole was most likely a lost cause. Right now, the only things that felt solid were her connections to Abigail and the land. And her commitment to finding Lisa’s killer.

“Okay, then let’s just go to Arches and sightsee,” she told Abigail.

Abigail depressed the plunger on her coffee. “Can’t we go shopping instead?”

Nora turned to Rachel. “Where were some of the last places Lisa filmed?”

Rachel pushed against the counter. Her eyes turned hard. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Maybe we could hit a few of the sites. Get some idea what Lisa was thinking.”

Rachel picked up the empty plate and banged it into the sink. Luckily, it didn’t break. “Lisa was thinking she wanted to change the world to better suit her own whims. The world had a different notion.”

Abigail opened a cupboard and plucked out a coffee cup. “It was an accident. It would have happened whether she’d been filming or picnicking.”

Rachel stared into the sink, her shoulders rigid. She didn’t reply. Perhaps because she knew Lisa’s death wasn’t an accident?

“Let’s go to Fiery Furnace. It was a special place to Lisa.” Nora studied Rachel’s back. Rachel gripped the edge of the sink, but didn’t turn.

Abigail laced her coffee with hazelnut creamer. “I don’t suppose there’s a mall in Moab,” she said, trying to diffuse the tension.

Rachel turned slowly and glared at Nora. “Leave it alone.”

“What is there you don’t want me to find?” Nora said.

Abigail scoffed. “Rachel’s only concerned you don’t torture yourself like this, Nora. Going to Lisa’s favorite places will only rub salt in the wound.”

Rachel and Nora didn’t move or acknowledge Abigail. Silence ticked in the kitchen. A mourning dove hoo-hoo-hooted outside.

Abigail set her cup on the counter. “Fine. If you’re so set on wallowing in death and pain, we’ll visit some of the spots your father and I went to. Now quit harassing Rachel.”

twenty-one

An hour later Nora
held the Jeep door open for Abbey to jump in the back.

Abigail walked onto the porch and called back inside through the closed screen door. “I’ve got my phone, dear. Text me if you decide you need anything from town.” She hefted a wicker tote bag onto her shoulder and stepped down the porch. She wore khaki capris and walking shoes. Her cardigan sweater matched the pink T-shirt underneath as well as the trim on her socks and she looked like a catalogue image for tasteful outdoor-wear for older women.

“Ready?” Nora was more than anxious to get moving.

Abigail slid into the passenger seat of the Jeep and twisted around, settling her tote bag on the floor behind Nora’s seat. “I’ve brought sunscreen, snacks, water, an extra jacket, and a first aid kit. Anything else?”

Nora flung her arm over the seat back to look behind her. She backed down the dirt driveway, concentrating on the narrow passage. “I’ve got most of that stuff in here. I filled my water bottles at the house.”

Abigail raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure you’ve got all sorts of things in this vehicle. How you ever find anything is beyond me—looks like you haven’t cleaned it out in years.”

Nora pulled onto the road and slid the Jeep in gear. “Abbey and I spend a lot of time in the mountains. I have extra coats and gear in here for that.”

“Too bad they didn’t wash and detail your Jeep while it was at the shop.”

Just another verse of the old “Clean Your Room” ballad. “Where would you like to go first?”

Abigail reached around and dug into her tote bag, pulling out a granola bar. She unwrapped it. “I don’t care.”

They turned on the highway and headed toward Moab. “Let’s start at the windows arches. You and Dan hiked there, didn’t you?”

“You can call him your father. You don’t have to say his name.”

“It’s just weird for me. All my life he was this guy that abandoned us, so I didn’t want to feel any affection for him. Now I know he died, that he didn’t leave us voluntarily. I’d like to know him, even a little.”

Abigail chewed her granola bar and watched the tamarisk and willows on the river. Finally she spoke. “It was a long time ago.” She finished her granola bar and fidgeted, drumming her fingers on the seat belt buckle. If she felt as nonchalant as she claimed, she wouldn’t be eating compulsively and squirming like a five-year-old at church.

“Okay, so Arches it is,” Nora decided.

On the half hour drive to the park just north of Moab, Abigail talked nonstop. She commented on the rafters floating the Colorado River and complained about the loud Harleys that zoomed up behind them and passed in a roar. She remarked about the new paved bike trail running alongside the highway. She chattered about her service club in Flagstaff and how it contributed to scholarships for struggling women. Nora heard more about Abigail’s efforts to reform Charlie’s diet and exercise habits than she cared to know. Obviously, Abigail wanted to avoid talking about Dan Sepakuku.

Abigail’s reluctance to share details about this man puzzled Nora. What could Abigail want to hide?

They approached the park entrance—a long, sloping valley dotted with cactus, scrub, and rocks. An RV had pulled off to the right into the parking lot of the visitors’ center. Several yards ahead, a kiosk squatted between the outgoing lane and the lane entering the park. The sun wasn’t serious yet and the morning felt fresh.

Nora showed her National Park pass and collected the maps and park pamphlet. “Anywhere specific you and my father visited here?”

“Just the regular places. The window arches and Delicate Arch.” Abigail dug out another granola bar and tore off the wrapper.

Nora drove up the long incline and maneuvered a few switchbacks. This early in the morning, they had the road to themselves.

The sky opened in an infinity of blue. No clouds marred its perfection. Nora rolled down her window and her lungs enlarged as she let the cool desert air fill her. Abbey poked his head over her shoulder and lifted his nose to the rushing wind.

The red sand and boulders of the hills popped against the sunshine and crisp air. Yellow blazing star and bright orange globemallow dotted the sparse ground along with the pinks and purples of the milkweed and Utah daisy. Sage, Mormon tea, and clump grass accented the sand, still damp from yesterday’s afternoon showers.

“So many wildflowers this year. Has it been a wet spring?” Abigail seemed lost in her thoughts, so it surprised Nora she’d be so observant.

Always eager to encourage Abigail’s curiosity of the natural world, Nora answered, “Unusually wet here. The ground is pretty well saturated. We’ll probably be seeing some flash floods in places that haven’t been flooded in years.” She’d never understood how anyone could describe the desert as barren. The land sang an aria of beauty, bringing tears to Nora’s eyes.

This place cradled Lisa’s soul.

Spires rose in majesty like a fantastical army of aliens marching across the desert. The unbelievable power of wind and water formed these gigantic castles of stone. Awesome, in the most basic sense.

They didn’t speak as Nora drove past Balanced Rock. They wound up to the parking lot and climbed out of the Jeep to view North and South Windows and Double Arch. Nora let Abbey jump down and clipped a leash to his collar. They climbed a quarter mile on smooth stone along a rock-lined trail in the red sand. Abigail stopped in the shade created from the elongated stone arch. She stared across the desert valley toward the La Sal Mountains in the distance.

Nora sat in a sunny spot and soaked up the scene. Abbey plopped down next to her and she trailed her fingers through his soft fur. The warmth of the stone radiated into her skin. The valley swept before her, an endless ocean dotted with deep green scrub against the amber ground. The soft summer felt like kisses on her bare arms and the tang of sage teased her nose.

Abigail’s shoulders hitched. Nora wondered if she was sobbing. She scrambled to her feet and jogged over to Abigail, Abbey following.

Instead of tears, Abigail’s face was bright with humor. She chuckled as Nora got close. “See that?” She pointed to a cluster of stunted trees on the valley floor. “We camped there the first night we arrived.”

Nora waited, hoping there was more to the story.

Abigail giggled. “We’d brought a bottle of wine and some chips. I was nervous because I’d never been camping and this was the first time I’d been alone with a man. Even though I was sure Dan was The One, I’d only known him for a few weeks.”

Nora fought against wanting to know more about her parents and not wanting to know too much. This could slip into the too much zone quickly.

“Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up with a terrible stomachache. I should have scurried out of the tent to, well, do what you might have to do.”

Tilting to the dark side. “You had gas?”

Abigail stared at the old camp site. “But the night was dark and the outside seemed so big and frightening. I stayed where I was and, well, let it go.” She blushed and giggled in embarrassment, not noticing Nora at all.

“Oh my. It even brought tears to my eyes. But Dan’s breathing never altered so I assumed he slept through it and with us being outside, I figured the tent air would be pure by the time he woke up.”

Nora didn’t want to think about her mother farting. Ever.

“The next morning, I was making coffee by the fire and Dan was frying bacon. He didn’t look at me as he said, ‘A bear came by our camp last night.’ Well, you can imagine how that upset me. I dropped the coffee pot and almost couldn’t speak. ‘A bear? When?’” Now Abigail laughed out loud. She caught Nora’s eye. “He shrugged and said, ‘Well, I didn’t actually see him. But I sure smelled him.’”

Abigail laughed again. “I nearly died of embarrassment. ‘I thought you were asleep!’ I said. He tilted his head and said, ‘I
was
.’” She shook her head. “I can still see that mischievous twinkle in his eye.”

Nora’s father had a sense of humor. Clearly he had an honest streak that was mixed with kindness. Was this too much to glean from one little story?

Abigail relaxed a little. She didn’t mention Dan again, but she no longer prattled with nervous energy. They drove to a few more overlooks, commenting on the beauty of the landscapes and sharing bits and pieces of their day-to-day lives.

The sun reached its zenith. They’d eaten the balance of the granola bars and shared water with Abbey. “Do you feel like taking a short hike?” Nora asked.

Abigail shrugged. “If you promise it will be a short one. I don’t want to get stuck on a forced march. And it better be on a level path.”

“I’d like to walk in Fiery Furnace. Then we can head back to town and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Nora pulled into the parking lot at the site. They climbed out and Nora waited for Abigail to slather herself with sweet-smelling sunscreen. The desert sun hit Nora’s skin and she could almost hear it sizzle. She reached into the back of the Jeep for her own unscented sunscreen spray. It didn’t help the heat, but it’d keep her from crisping.

A wood fence blocked the trailhead that led to a one-track path a short distance across a flat plane and wound into an impenetrable stand of fins and spires. Heat waves warped the view across the valley in the opposite direction. A sign at the trailhead warned hikers that they couldn’t enter the maze of stone without a permit and a guide. Nora slipped around it and onto the trail.

“We aren’t permitted in here,” Abigail said, standing her ground.

Nora cast around for witnesses, saw they were alone, and waved her mother in. “If we hurry, we can get behind the stones before someone sees us.”

Abigail glanced behind her. “This isn’t a good idea,” she protested, but hurried after Nora.

They followed the path threading through the fins of stone. The close formations caused them to squeeze between the narrow passages. Could she dislodge another anecdote from Abigail? Nora felt a greedy need for more of her father, but maybe she’d have to be content with one story, albeit one indelicate and incredibly crude by her mother’s usual standards, but so telling.

They walked on, breathing in hot air, conserving their water with small sips. She unclipped Abbey from his leash and followed his plodding pace. An unusual change in rock color caught Nora’s attention and she veered off the trail to wind through a few fins, hoping to find the petroglyphs Lisa had told her about. The rocks were warm under her hands as she maneuvered through tight places.

“Where are you taking us?” Abigail didn’t sound pleased.

“I thought there might be a rock art panel here, but it’s just weathered rock.”

“Shouldn’t we go back to the trail?” Abigail asked.

Nora tried to get her bearings and looked for a trail. “I’m not sure where it is.”

Abigail put her hands on her hips. “I knew we shouldn’t have come in here without a guide!”

Nora waved her hand. “No big deal. We’ll head back toward the trailhead and get there eventually.”

Abigail held up her bottle. “I hope that’s not a long time. I’m nearly out of water and this heat is withering me.”

“We’ve only been out here for a half hour or so. I’m sure you won’t dehydrate.”

“I’m glad you have confidence.” She glared at Nora. “You take the lead. This place is a maze.”

Nora sidled around Abigail in the narrow passage and Abbey struggled to get ahead of them. Nora studied the scenery, trying to put herself in Lisa’s head. Where would she hike that she accidently ran into petroglyphs?

She studied the rock around her, peering into crevices as they walked. She followed Abbey’s red flag of a tail, already rounding another sharp turn, and nearly smacked into a wall of stone.

Abbey disappeared into a tight passage but Nora stopped in the shade to wait for Abigail. She uncapped her water bottle and tilted her head to take a gulp of warm water, halting as something grabbed her attention.

She gasped and stepped back to get the whole impression. An amazing assortment of images were etched in the rock above her head. The panel measured about six feet wide and four feet tall and started twenty feet above the ground. Either erosion had dug a path or the artists had stood on some sort of bench. The faint designs scratched in the rock could easily be missed if a hiker wasn’t paying close attention.

Nora leaned in, a sense of awe she always felt when viewing something so ancient washing over her. A person had stood here a thousand years ago or more. A real someone who loved and struggled and laughed, worried about survival or wondering about God. That person had taken the time to chisel this rock, and the images must have been filled with meaning because carving on rock deep enough to last for millennia was no idle undertaking.

This artist, or artists, had created a hodgepodge of images. Human shapes with large, almost triangular bodies and tiny stick arms and legs shared space with unmistakable images of birds and snakes. Other figures weren’t as easy to place. Some looked like they might be turtles or big bugs. Goats or deer ran alongside a boxlike creature that looked sort of like ET. There was even a boat shape, like a half moon on its side, with a figure sitting inside. Big circles, like giant ears, stuck out from the head of the boatman.

Panting behind her that didn’t sound like Abbey. She glanced over her shoulder to see Abigail leaning against a spire. Her eyes looked panicked in her pale face.

“What is it?” Nora put a hand to Abigail’s forehead to check her temperature. It didn’t seem warm enough outside for heat exhaustion. Abigail was nearing sixty but in good shape. Was it a heart attack?

Abigail waved Nora’s hand off her face. “Fine. I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

Nora understood. It wasn’t heat stroke or heart attack. Fear. It radiated off Abigail’s skin. She followed Abigail’s gaze to the rock art panel. “What scares you?”

Abigail chuckled, but it sounded more like choking. “Don’t be silly. I’m not afraid.”

Nora studied the rock. Humans, other animal shapes, a few strange lines. Toward the bottom of the panel she noticed something familiar. The weird sunburst shape. The same design on the graffiti at the Read Rock and in her dream. Her heart stammered, too. “Did you come here with my father?”