Whispering Spirits (7 page)

A meadowlark thrilled her song over and over,
as though warning of impending danger.

“Listen to your
nah’ah
. You are in
great danger. Do not trust anyone. Think over your relationship
with Jordan. What are you not seeing?”

Sitting on a rock off the edge of the water,
a young Blackfeet woman sat. She wore a soft, white doeskin dress
heavily beaded with elk teeth and fringed edges. Her hair hung in
two braids tied off with mink, falling close to her waist. She
seemed familiar, yet Summer couldn’t place where she’d seen this
woman before.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Although it is not wise to speak one’s own
name, I will tell you this one time my name is
Oota
da’bun.
”

“Day Star? How lovely. Why have you come to
me? Are you real?”

“Your
nah’ah
speaks of whispering
spirits.”

“Yes, all the time. It drives me nuts. I
don’t hear my ancestors talking or whispering to me.”

“Your
nah’ah
is trying to show you the
way. Don’t be so quick to disbelieve. Again, I want to tell you to
beware, you are in great danger.”

Again the Meadowlark sang her warning song
and Summer quickly looked up. She glanced back to the young
maiden…and she was gone. Summer searched the wooded edges…was she
real?

Her heart pounded. Summer opened her eyes and
looked around. The dream had seemed so real.

Chapter Four

Running Crane took his bag and headed for his
tipi. Summer had become more opinionated over the years. Her beauty
hadn’t diminished, if nothing else she had become even more
attractive.

He wanted to be honest and upfront with her,
but he couldn’t. She most likely knew he worked for the Bureau of
Indian Affairs. Once she found out he worked in alliance with the
FBI, she would surely run in the other direction. He’d always found
her attractive, but kept his feelings to himself since she was his
brother’s girlfriend…until that day at the dance. Now he understood
it more than ever. She never wanted to make a commitment to
Terry…
so she used…me
. How could she? Until today…he believed
what her kiss said.

The taste of her had lingered with him all
these years. Since then he’d compared every woman he’d kissed to
her soft, inviting lips. None had compared to the passion she
shared with him. He always believed they had something special
between them. How could he have allowed himself to be so completely
fooled?

He entered his tipi and gave the area a quick
glance, making sure nothing had been disturbed. He’d talked
Nah’ah
into hiring him as their protector and hunter. She’d
only planned on staying a short time, yet he managed to convince
her to take her time and complete her duty.

Should he have told her Summer’s life might
be in danger? It seemed impossible the killer would find her
here…but stranger things have happened.

There was always a slight chance that Summer
knew what was going on. If that was the case, she could be guilty
of murder. The FBI had been casing her apartment for over a month.
Joshua and his friends were doing drugs, but they weren’t dealing.
They had higher stakes that crossed at least twenty states. Stolen
Native artifacts brought major dollars. Had they moved on to
something even more illegal?

The Summer he thought he knew wouldn’t have
involved herself in—

Cracking branches and rustling leaves
betrayed the intruder. Running Crane unsnapped the strap to his
pistol.

“Knock…knock!” Summer shouted. “Mind if I
come in?”

He released a deep breath. “Come on in. What
do you need?”

“Um…I…wondered if we could talk.”

“Sure. You want to talk in here or outside
under the cottonwood. We have a history with trees, you know.” He
laughed and glanced her way. Her nervous reaction surprised him.
“Come on, Summer, I was joking.”

“I know…it’s just…I haven’t been in a
humorous mood lately. Did you know that my friend, Jordan Perkins,
was murdered about a month ago?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry for your loss. I actually
heard all about it from your father. It must have been hard to
believe you killed Derek Wallace with a fry pan. I think they
should have done an autopsy to see if he had more than one bump on
his head.” He watched her reaction.

“I don’t believe I killed him. Thing is, who
did? That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I can’t take a
chance…
Nah’ah
needs your protection. Before I left Missoula
I received several threats.”

“What kind of threats?” He noticed she
hesitated.

“I don’t have a clue why Jordan was killed. I
do believe his brother, Joshua, is involved somehow. Father told me
Joshua was at my apartment when he came to visit me.”

“Was that odd?” Running Crane knew she didn’t
get along with the man.

“Joshua and Jordan were opposites. They
didn’t get along at all. I’ve only had Joshua at my apartment once,
and that was because of Jordan’s birthday. I barely tolerated
him.”

“You think he was involved with Jordan’s
murder?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He didn’t have a
job and he sponged off all his family and friends. Then about six
months ago it seemed he had money for everything. Jordan and I both
thought he was dealing drugs. We weren’t sure.”

Running Crane motioned for her to sit on the
rabbit rugs. He opened a cooler and pulled out two bottles of Bliss
white raspberry water, then sat next to her.

“Thanks, you have no idea how good this looks
to me.”

“Help yourself if you’re ever in need.” He
took several swallows of water, then said, “Why do you think your
grandmother needs protection?”

“The killer is looking for something Jordan
had…I don’t have a clue what that is. But I received a threat to
leave Missoula and go back to the res where I’ll be safe.” She
paused and looked up at him.

“There’s more, isn’t there? I can tell you
aren’t sure you can trust me. Let me say this, I read the police
report on Jordan’s murder. There are a lot of things that just
don’t add up. Detective Buggeta contacted me and…asked if I would
keep an eye on you. He doesn’t believe you have a clue what’s going
on or why Jordan was killed. He does believe your life’s in
danger.”

“So you worked your way into
Nah’ah’s
confidence and got hired to protect us?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I’m going to
confide in you…I have reason to believe Joshua and possibly Jordan
were involved in smuggling and selling Native American artifacts.
It’s surprising how many private collectors there still are out
there. There are numerous sacred Blackfeet artifacts that were
taken by unscrupulous explorers and illegally obtained by museums.
Even soldiers managed to take souvenirs that are now valuable
artifacts. These were never returned to the Blackfeet people,
instead they are kept by ranchers and families…handed down
generation to generation without even realizing the value to the
People. Several of these home collections have been stolen and sold
for outrageous amounts on the black market.”

“I don’t believe Jordan had anything to do
with that.”

“Did he ever ask you about families you knew
in Browning that had sacred artifacts from the old ones. Maybe
those who still might have sacred medicine bundles, like
Nah’ah
?”

“No…you think the only reason he was dating
me was for information on the Blackfeet?”

“I’m not saying that…I just wondered if the
subject ever came up.” Summer had been hurt by recent events; he
hated prodding her for information.

“I understand these sacred artifacts nurture
spiritual life and enhance spiritual understanding, but selling
them on the black market…how does someone do that? Unless your
artifacts fit in a thin computer case, I doubt your theory is
right.”

“Arrowhead collections would?”

“What?”

“A computer case would be perfect to
transport arrowhead collections and even knives, small arms, and I
guess the list could go on and on, because anything small would
transport easily. Who would even think Native artifacts would be
nestled inside a computer case or bag?”

“You really think that’s what this is all
about? It’s worth killing over?”

Running Crane drank more water and leaned
back on his elbows. “Maybe you read or heard about the Blackfeet
sacred artifacts that were the topic of negotiations between a
provincial museum in Canada and Blackfeet Indians from Montana in
1990. A sculptor in Montana sold a bundle of sacred tribal
artifacts for over one point one million. The collection had been a
part of his private museum. So you see, there is ridiculous value
in Native artifacts.”

“I never would have guessed. But I’m telling
you right now, Running Crane, I don’t know a thing about dealing in
stolen artifacts. Jordan wouldn’t have either.”

“You ought to give that some thought. Think
back to conversations or places you two went and look at it from
the angle, could it have been a deal connection.” He could tell by
her expression she wasn’t convinced.

“I didn’t come here for accusations, Running
Crane. I came to ask if you’d keep an eye on
Nah’ah
. I came
to be honest with you…that on the way to Browning…my father and I
were shot at.”

“You what?” He sat up abruptly. “Why haven’t
you told me this before? Things have escalated and I can’t even let
my team know about it. Neither of you were hit, right?” He glanced
her over, and liked what he saw.

“Nice. Keep an eye on
Nah’ah
, not
me.”

“Come on, Summer. I’m not the enemy. You’d
better do some real thinking and figure out who is. Do you have any
idea who would do that?”

“No. He phoned and threated to shoot father
in the head unless we pulled into the next rest station. I
questioned his ability to do that and he shot the windshield, right
between us. Father wouldn’t stop and the caller said we’d pay for
that decision.”

“I doubt anyone could find us here, but you’d
better keep a sharp look-out and listen to your surroundings.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“This isn’t a game, Summer. If it was just
you and me, I wouldn’t be so worried. But
Nah’ah
being here
won’t make things so easy.” He waited for her to respond, hoping
she’d believe he was here to help.

“I should have brought my pistol. You
wouldn’t happen to have an extra, would you?”

Running Crane thought for a moment,
considering the consequences of Summer having a gun.

“I know how to shoot. If I remember right,
I’d won a couple of shooting events that you lost. If you want me
to be aware, that should include a way to protect
Nah’ah
and
even me.”

He pulled up the bottom of his jeans and
jerked free the Velcro, producing a Glock 19 pistol. “I’m trusting
you, Summer. Don’t disappoint. It has fifteen rounds. Just so you
know, it has a safety mechanism built in the trigger and prevents
the gun from firing unless the trigger is completely depressed.” He
stretched out his arm and placed the gun in her upright palm.

“I’d better go back and check on
Nah’ah
. We’ll probably eat in about an hour…if you care to
join us. I know she wants you to go hunting, but I’m hoping you
won’t take her too seriously. I’m not too crazy about learning to
cook stew or scrape a hide.”

He liked the sound of her laugh. “Summer,
thank you for deciding to talk to me. I’m here if you need
anything.” He didn’t expect a response and didn’t get one. He
stared out of the tipi opening long after she left.

Now he wished he’d taken his captain’s advice
and had arranged for a team to go with him. If the killer found
Summer, how would he be able to protect both her and
Nah’ah
out here in the wild? What seemed the perfect plan, now seemed the
worst scenario.

There had to be more going on than smuggling
artifacts. Someone had taken a shot at Summer and her father. How
did that fit into the scheme of things? They were capable of
killing; they proved that with Ali and Jordan…and possibly even
Derek. Those robberies had all been well-planned. Shooting at a
moving car and threatening to kill if they didn’t pull over…just
didn’t fit the pattern.

What was going on? Running Crane dug in his
bag and withdrew a knife in a beaded sheath, and strapped it to his
leg under his jeans. He had lied to the women about the chopper.
The radio had been disabled and the gas tank didn’t hit a tree
branch, it had been punctured several times and plugged…lasting
long enough to get into the air.

Who would have known Summer was going on that
chopper? Could she be bugged? Running Crane zipped his travel bag
shut, placed it between the front legs under the cot, then smoothed
out the blanket. A quick look revealed everything in a specific
place.

* * *

Summer walked back to
Nah’ah’s
tipi,
deep in thought. She felt good having talked to Running Crane and
it’d gone better than she expected. A meadowlark sang her trill and
her dream came back to haunt her. The young maiden had seemed so
familiar…didn’t she look a lot like
Nah’ah
…only younger?

A twig snapped and Summer froze in place. She
looked around, searching the dark edges. A large, pine tree branch
waved as though blowing in the wind. There wasn’t even a
breeze.

Could Jordan’s killer have found them
already? Who would know they were here? Her father wouldn’t have
told anyone…so who did that leave? Did
Nah’ah
tell…crap…she
would have told all her friends, people at church, and just about
anyone who’d ask. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to be
discrete.

Summer hurried, spotting her grandmother
kneeling and digging a hole in the ground near the exterior
campfire.