The Bone Man (26 page)

Without moving, I slitted my eyes open. He was smiling, nodding.
Heavens
, Aric laughed. This call was very different from the last. Again he talked in Zuni, and he finally said what sounded like
dohoechma
, and shut the phone.

I made a noise, groaned with supposed waking.

Aric turned on the radio.

“Hey,” I said. “Got anything to drink?”

He reached into the backseat and handed me a Coke. Warm. Who liked their soda warm? I didn’t get it at all. I popped the tab and drank deep.

“You were on the phone,” I said.

“Naw. Talk radio. This satellite business is pretty cool.”

Golly, it sure was. Grrr. Now Aric was lying to me. I longed for Hank’s straightforward honesty. “You have a girlfriend?”

His lips thinned. “Why all this . . . intimacy now?”

“You know me,” I said. “Or at least you said you did. It matters that I understand my friends. To know them.”

He slapped the wheel. “Don’t bother, Tally Whyte. It could get us both killed.”

“That’s a conversation stopper.”

“Intentional.”

“There’s someone in your life, Aric.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “Someone you love. You seem worried. You certainly can tell me—”

“I don’t choose to.”

His face was all shadows and mystery. He wore a ball cap atop his short hair. His handsomeness, so reminiscent of an Edward Curtis photograph, hid what lay inside the man.

He rolled up the sleeves of his snap shirt. He was the son of a former Zuni governor, a man who was also a clan chief. A powerful man. Aric was powerful, too. I sensed a depth in him I barely understood.

The Aric I knew wasn’t the man beside me who was hurting. I wished I could help. “Are you sure that I—”

“Positive.”

I let go for the moment. “Where are we?”

“Almost to Crownpoint. Then we head east to Chaco.”

I pulled out my cell phone. I still had coverage, and I doubted I would in Chaco. I dialed Gert.

“Who are you calling?” Aric said.

“Just a friend back home. To get the news on Penny, my dog, and work.”

He gave me a stolid and long look. “I thought you said you weren’t working.”

The air grew hot and tense. Why the hell should I be feeling that way with Aric? Cripes. “I’m not working. Not officially. But I started the program at OCME, and I’ll always have an interest in MGAP. It’s my baby.”

“Huh,” was all he said. “You better not be long.”

“Why? I mean, am I under guard or something? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Just be quick.”

I dialed Gert. It bounced right to voicemail, and I left a message. I hoped she reached me before we were out of range. I punched out Kranak’s numbers, got the guy on duty, a CSS I’d known for years.

“Hey, Wes, how goes it?” I said. It was great to hear a friendly and familiar voice. “It’s Tally. I’m looking for Rob.”

“He’s out on a case.”

“I’m not surprised. I’ll try his cell. Have a good one, huh.”

“Wait,” Wes said.

“What’s up?” I tried to play it casual, but I heard the catch in his voice.

“I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

“About . . . ?”

“You don’t know. Shit.”

“Whatever ‘it’ is, I don’t know it, Wes.” Panic. “Is Doc Morgridge okay?”

“She’s fine, Tal. Let me put you through to Gert.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Look, Wes. I have not a clue what you’re talking about. Gert’s on the line. I already tried her. What’s the deal?”

“Fine. Um . . .” A sigh. “I don’t feel good about this. Just remember that, okay?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you catch that? I do
not
feel good about this.”

“I caught it. I caught it.
What?
”

“Your boyfriend. That Cunningham guy.”

My heart stopped. “Yes?”

“He’s been shot up bad.”

“Bad?” I whispered. “He’s not dead, right? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I’d tell.”

Aric shook my arm. I pulled it away and mouthed,
Stop it!
“Go on.”

“Some gunfight or other,” Wes said. “I guess he’s out there in some hospital.”

My throat squeezed tight. “Where is he?”

“Place called Crownpoint.”

“Not Gallup?” I said. “How bad is he?”

“Not good, Tally,” Wes said. “Not good at all.”

“Okay.” I signed off. The world spun. Hank.
Hank
. Nothing could happen to Hank. But something had. I couldn’t bear it.

“We’re on our way to Crownpoint, right?” I said.

Aric’s sideways glance was anything but comforting. “Yeah.”

“I’ve got to get to the hospital there. Now. Period.” I folded my hands in my lap and searched for calm.

Aric slapped the steering wheel. “No time.”

No time?
Of course, our deadline to make it to Chaco Canyon. For Niall and his daughter. Except . . .

I shook my head. “I can’t help it. I have to stop.” I explained about Hank and what had happened.

Aric got quiet. Too quiet. It was obvious he had more to say, whereas I had nothing else to say. I was going to the Crownpoint hospital. That was it.

Mile after mile of scrub and desert passed as we climbed one hill and drove down another. I slung my hand onto the swaying door strap. The rhythmic motion felt good. Time, time, time.

It was taking forever, and all I could see was Hank as a little kid with a crush on me. Hank, the sheriff of Hancock County. Hank, in bed and walking Peanut and playing hockey and . . .

What had happened? How had the shooter gotten to Hank? It made no sense. Of course, I’d been the one to screw up. I’d left him there in that motel room. I was sure he’d be fine.

I was wrong. So wrong.

I spotted a dozen cows grazing on the scrub, then three coyotes slinking toward them.

A sign for Crownpoint. A jackrabbit leapt across the road. Aric swerved so he wouldn’t hit it.

“How far are we from the hospital?” I said.

“Not far.” He tapped a tune on the dash that I guessed played in his head.

My head was silent, lonely. I tried to see Hank in my mind’s eye, but I was alone, and he was gone, and I couldn’t see him at all.

The land flattened. Up ahead, simple homes, maybe a school, and I thought I could see the hospital. My heart beat faster, my mouth dried.

“I guess, well, turn wherever.”

Aric nodded, tapped the dash, faster, harder. I bit my lip.
Please let him be okay
.

On the right. There. The hospital. “There it is, Aric.”

He flew past the street, letting the truck pick up speed.

“But, Aric.”

We raced across the desert, through the town.

“You’ve got to stop,” I said. “I’ll walk if I have to.”

“I can’t, Tally. We’ve got two people who might die.”

I cracked the door. I could leap out, roll. I
would
see Hank.

“You’ll kill yourself.”

Faster and faster the truck moved.

And suddenly a sound. A siren.

Aric looked in the rearview mirror. “Cop. Shit.”

“I see.” I slid my hand to the door handle.

As we coasted to a stop, I leaned my shoulder against the door and raised the handle.

“Don’t,” Aric said.

I turned the handle. Beneath the red bandana that sat in Aric’s lap was a semi-automatic handgun. The barrel pointed straight at me.

A chill skated down my spin. Aric wouldn’t shoot. Of
course not. But I was intimate with how the bullet from a nine mil could rip through your gut.

I waited. In the side mirror I watched as the cop approached. The men talked low and slow, so I couldn’t hear. The cop was Navajo. Zuni and Navajo were never the best of friends.

Then the cop walked away. I looked at Aric, his eyes dead and angry. The gun never wavered.

Screw it.

“I have to.” I flipped up the handle and leapt. I hit the ground hard, and my crappy left knee gave. But my right one held, and I sprang forward, stumbled, ran.

“Tally!” Aric hollered.

I heard the whine of the truck door opening, but I ran on, past the cop and headed to town. It wasn’t far, and someone beeped. And then this ancient green pickup was keeping pace with me.

“Hey, lady!” someone hollered.

“Yeah.” I didn’t stop running.

“Why’s that crazy Zuni chasing you?”

I glanced up to see a straw-hatted Navajo smiling down from his truck. “That crazy Zuni wants to marry me.” I was panting hard now.

“You wanna marry him?” the Navajo asked.

“Hell, no!” I said.

“So get in,” he said.

The green truck stopped, and I ran around to the passenger side and hopped in.

“Tally, dammit!” Aric hollered.

The Navajo laughed and put the pedal to the metal.

People stared as I walked through the doors of the Crown-point hospital. Because I might scare Hank, I went to the ladies’ room and splashed some water on my face. I didn’t bother to look. I knew my face was a train wreck. Hank had seen worse.

Aric might have arrived by now, but I didn’t much care. He couldn’t drag me out of the hospital by force. I couldn’t believe the Navajo cop had let him go.

The small hospital’s waiting room overflowed with people—men, women, old, young. I found the reception desk. The young gal at the desk had her nose buried in a textbook.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m looking for a friend, Hank Cunningham.”

She slid a place mark into the book and smiled up at me. “I’m sorta new. Does this Cunningham work here?”

“No,” I said. “He’s a patient.”

She bobbed her head. “I don’t think so. I never heard of him.”

“I’ve been told he was shot and brought here.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think so, lady. We got only one guy here who’s been gun-shot, and that’s my cousin’s brother-in-law. He shot himself in the foot. Can you imagine that?”

I had to think. “I’ll be right back.”

“You know, I’m just the temp while Sally goes to lunch. I bet she knows.”

“Where can I find her?”

“Out back, having a smoke.” She smiled. “I hope you find your friend.”

“Me, too. Thanks.”

I found my way out back. It wasn’t far. Except way too many men and women were smoking, maybe a dozen, with more than half of them women. Some leaned against the building, while others paced and talked on their cell phones.

I walked up to a Navajo woman who wore jeans and a fluffy top.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for a gal named Sally. She’s the receptionist.”

She wagged the cigarette. “Over there. She in trouble?”

“Not at all.”

“Well,
that’s
different.” She flicked her ash, shrugged, and turned away.

The wind picked up, and I tightened Niall’s fuzzy. As I walked toward Sally, I shielded my eyes from the midday sun. She was short and stocky and wore a red windbreaker and jeans. Her long hair was bound in a single braid. She looked around fifty. “Sally?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Her sing-song voice was almost musical. “Boy, you look like you been through the wringer.”

“You could say that. Um, I’m looking for a friend. The girl at the desk said you might be able to help me.”

She ran her cigarette across the wall, where a million other marks existed, and dropped it into to another large can labeled
Butts
.

“I probably can’t,” she said. “But run it by me. C’mon, walk with me. I’m supposed to walk. Helps the diabetes.”

“I’d be happy to.” I fell in beside her as we walked the perimeter of the hospital. I hesitated. Fear tightened my throat. What if Hank were mortally wounded? Or brain damaged? Or paralyzed? I had to know, of course.

“My friend,” I said. “His name is Hank Cunningham. He’s law enforcement from Boston.”

“Anglo, right?” she said.

“Yes. I just found out he was injured. I came right away. I’m scared, Sally.”

She led me inside. “I gotta call up first. Okay?”

“Sure. Is he . . .”

“Can’t say. Not allowed.” She shooed the other gal from the receptionist’s desk. She reapplied her lipstick, popped a Tic Tac, then lifted the phone to call. Her eyes were sad when she looked at me.

Oh, no
. “What?” I said. I couldn’t believe this. I just couldn’t. My stomach cramped with fear.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am.”

The same thing Wes had said on the phone.

The waiting room chair was soft, too much so. I fastened my eyes on the bowels of the hospital and didn’t move. People entered and left. Occasionally I’d glance at the entrance, half expecting to see Aric stride through. But he didn’t come.

I dozed, which seemed impossible, but I did. And my fear grew. I checked Hank’s watch for the hundredth time. I rubbed the dial, the band. He’d worn the watch forever. I
had
to be at Chaco by sunset. I didn’t know how long that would take, but I suspected an hour or so.

I couldn’t leave, yet I would have to leave sooner, rather than later. What was taking so long? Why couldn’t I just go up and see Hank?

I held my hands up to Sally, a silent
how come
. She gave me a shrug and went back to the phones. I slumped back
in the chair. Hank was dead. I was sure of it. Someone was coming to tell me, and that’s why there was the wait. I wanted to stand up and scream.

Shouts at the entrance made me turn. Aric zoomed through the front doors at a run.

He held out his hand. His eyes worried, fearful. “We gotta go, Tally. We gotta go now.”

He was right. Of course we did. Niall and his daughter would die otherwise.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go. I’m . . . I’m waiting for nothing.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait.” Sally shook her hand at me.

“Can’t, Sally. I . . . I’ll come back later.”

She raced around the reception desk. “You can’t go!”

“
Now
, Tally!” Aric said.

I walked forward, and we were almost to the front doors when . . .

“Tally!”

The voice whipped me around. I blinked. Rubbed my hands across my eyes. Hank stood right there, wearing his chinos, a green crew shirt, and boat shoes.
“Hank!”