“Kay.” He didn’t like seeing her cry. He saw no harm in agreeing with her. In his experience, problems like this either went away or boomeranged back, and if they came back, sometimes he better understood the reason for the conflict.
They ate without talking, long enough that he thought the situation had resolved itself. But Louisa had more to say.
“I’m going to Flagstaff for a department meeting as a consultant.”
He remembered. The session was tomorrow, and she’d asked if he wanted to go along for the three-hour drive, maybe stop in Holbrook on the way to see some friends. They could visit the Lowell Observatory before coming back. He’d told her he’d think about it.
She ate the rest of her oatmeal and then spoke again. “I’ve decided that I’m driving over this morning so I can catch up with some of my colleagues, get a sense of what’s going on, do a little shopping. And I think we could use a break from each other after yesterday.”
She took her bowl to the sink. “I’m packed, and I’m leaving now. I’ll be back when I’ve done what I can at the university and when I’ve figured out how I feel about staying here.”
She gave him a half smile. “I like you, Joe, but I won’t stand for being put down.”
“Dent mean to.” He’d already said sorry.
After she drove away, he poured himself the last of the coffee and turned off the pot. He should have asked her to make sure that right front tire on her car had enough air. It looked low when she came home with the groceries. He rinsed his bowl and her cup and put them in the drain rack. He noticed that Louisa had forgotten to feed Giddi, and he gave the cat some kibble. He wondered if she had taken her phone charger. She tended to leave it in a socket by the toaster. He checked and, sure enough, there it was.
He grabbed the computer and went to his office to work on Mrs. Pinto’s case. He opened his little brown notebook and reviewed the facts and questions that had caught his attention during his meetings at the museum, the conversation in his living room, and yesterday’s session with Bean at the Navajo Inn. He added what he’d learned at the trading post with Willie and Peshlakai. He made himself a fresh “to follow up” list. The process clarified his thinking, and he began to develop a plan to settle the case.
His cell phone rang around nine. He thought it might be Louisa, but the number came up as Robert Peshlakai. He answered.
After some pleasantries, Peshlakai said, “I’ve been thinking about that photo of the earrings. It was like seeing a relative you had forgotten about, but then you think, maybe it’s just someone who looks like him. If I could see those things up close, I’d know for sure. I have to drive into Gallup today, and I could stop by and see them. If they are mine, I could tell you and the lady a story, too.”
Leaphorn considered it. “Do you recall who bought them?”
“I don’t know about that, but I remember who I asked to sell them for me. I mean, if they really are the ones I made.”
That was enough for Leaphorn. “Let’s meet in the parking lot of the museum complex at ten. Does that work?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll call back if there is a problem. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the museum. You know where that is?”
“Sure, it’s the biggest thing around for miles.”
It probably was too early to find Mrs. Pinto at work, so he went back to his computer to check his email and saw a message from Bean.
Joe, great to see you looking so healthy. Keep it up. Did I tell you to hold on to that box? Make sure your client doesn’t recycle it or something. Keep it safe in case we need to check for fingerprints. If you can, take a look at the postmark and let me know where the donation was mailed. I’m dead in the water until I know about that postmark. JB
Leaphorn called Mrs. Pinto, and his luck held. She would be in the office at ten. He would introduce her to the jeweler, and she would show Peshlakai the earrings and necklace in hopes that he could identify them.
He was considering another cup of coffee when the phone rang.
Captain Largo’s voice boomed over the line. After some chitchat, Largo said, “Hey, Lieutenant, remember that rookie I mentioned to you?”
“I do. Chee gave me some background on him.”
“Well, he’s off work for a few days until the swelling around his eye goes down and he can breathe. If you can make it up here while he’s on leave, this would be a good opportunity for you two to get together.”
“How about late this afternoon?” Leaphorn suggested a time.
“I’ll tell Sam to meet you at the station. I’ll call you back if there’s any problem.”
“Have you mentioned this mentoring idea to him?”
“Not yet.”
“Tell him that I heard about his work at the Shiprock car bombing.”
“You want me to say his work, huh? Not his screwups.” Largo chuckled. “Good idea.”
“How’s the guy’s Navajo?”
“Marginal. Improving since he’s worked here. He understands more than he lets on. He’s reticent about speaking, but he has to when he talks to the old-timers.”
“I can relate to that with my troubles with English.” And, Leaphorn realized, Sam certainly would view a gray-haired retired lieutenant as an old-timer.
“If you don’t want to drive home after your meeting, stay with me. We can swap a few lies. At least let me buy you dinner.”
“Thanks. Let’s see how it goes.” The trip was only ninety minutes, and he’d driven many times that distance in his days on the force without anyone offering him a meal and a bed. Age made a difference, he thought again, and Largo’s offer reflected both friendship and the long, kind Diné tradition of respect for elders.
Leaphorn arrived at the museum a few minutes early and Mrs. Pinto met him in the lobby. They passed a tall, gray-haired gentleman in polished boots and dark jeans pacing in the hall outside her office.
Mrs. Pinto spoke gruffly to him. “You’ll have to wait until someone comes to unlock the door. Go on back there.” The man frowned and moved away from her down the hall like a person in a hurry.
She entered her office and invited Leaphorn to sit.
“Who was that?”
“The father of my Tiffany. He came to collect the personal items from her desk.”
“You sounded angry with him.”
She turned off her computer monitor and swiveled to face him. “I am. He’s been spreading terrible rumors about me. But that’s not why you’re here. Tell me about this Peshlakai and how you think he can help.”
“He made the bracelet I suspect is missing. I know you’re more interested in the dress, but I think this could lead us to it.” Leaphorn told her about the trip to the Hubbell Trading Post yesterday. “I don’t think this will take long. Either he will recognize the earrings and the necklace or he won’t.”
“I hope he can explain how his bracelet, if it is his bracelet, is connected to the disappearance of Juanita’s dress.”
On the way out, Leaphorn spoke to the man in the hall. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”
The man studied the floor. “She was my beloved, my blessing. My beautiful, perfect girl. Be careful. You know what I mean?”