Bernie’s voice was tinged with concern. “I just heard from Sandra that you’re investigating a shooting out there. What happened?”
He filled her in. “The man who got hurt is that friend of your mother, Mr. Natachi.”
“Wow. It was bold to shoot the old man in broad daylight with you there.”
“Whoever did it might not have noticed my unit, and I was inside when it happened. I wasn’t able to see the shooter or the license plate number.”
“So, does this mean you were in the wrong place at the right time? Kind of like me and the body yesterday.” The brightness in her voice lightened his mood. “You’re lucky you could ID the car. And Mr. Natachi probably wouldn’t have survived long without you.”
“I hope he will be able to say who did this to him.” Chee felt sympathy for the victim well up and transform into anger. He changed the subject. “What’s happening out your way?”
Bernie’s voice had energy in it. “I’m chasing the flea market guy who fenced the stolen bolo. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing exciting. I spent a while serving papers and arrested a dude for public intoxication. Now I’m on my way to a collision that involved a cow.”
“People should never let their cows drive.”
She groaned.
Chee told her about his conversation with Leaphorn and the newly accused Green Yazzie. “If Green Yazzie’s sister calls for me at the station, can you talk to her?” He gave her a little background.
“No problem.”
He saw a Navajo Police car approach. “Thanks. Gotta go.”
“You be safe out there.”
The two crime scene investigators were officers he’d worked with before, solid professionals. They gave him a copy of the warrant to read while they took out their gear. Chee explained what he had seen.
While the officers knocked on the door of Ryana’s house and then entered to leave a copy of the warrant and begin their search, Chee walked slowly down the dirt driveway. He ambled toward the main house, eyes on the ground, looking for tracks, bullet casings, anything to help the investigation. He stopped near the spot where Mr. Natachi had emerged from the car before being shot. The hard-packed soil had sandy pockets that helped preserve the tracks. He saw a few shuffling impressions from Mr. Natachi, his own boot prints, other shoes that were probably Ryana’s, and, to his delight, tire tracks that matched those he had seen outside Mr. Natachi’s house.
He took photos of all of it, careful not to disturb the impressions. Then Chee used his cell phone again to take a picture of the tire track in front of the old man’s house. The afternoon was calm, not even a whisper of a breeze. For now, the still air and dryness preserved the evidence.
He searched for shell casings and eventually found one among some rocks, the brass glinting in the sun. He took a picture of it. He found two more, accounting for every shot he remembered.
He told the investigation team about the casings and the tracks and his photos. They would retrieve and preserve the evidence. Time to go.
Chee drove back to the Chinle station, updated Lieutenant Black, and then called the prison. After several transfers and long minutes on hold, he learned that, as Leaphorn had said, Arthur Green Yazzie remained incarcerated.
He passed the information on to Black.
“So, either Ryana lied, or the man who shot her grandfather looked enough like Yazzie to confuse her. Too bad we can’t pin this on Yazzie. It would have been great to wrap up this shooting.” Black twisted his wedding ring. “You mentioned that you wanted to take a look at the other recent burglaries. Mark Adakai from dispatch pulled the files for you. I don’t think you’ll find much that will be helpful, but he will set you up on a computer back there.”
In the next room, Chee noticed that one of the tables had three kinds of cookies, some chocolate-dipped strawberries, a dish of nuts, and a plate with cheese and crackers in several shapes and flavors. “Looks like someone’s having a party.”
“Had a party. Mark’s nephew graduated from Miyamura High School down in Gallup over the weekend. He helped with food for the celebration, and he brought us the leftovers. There’s water and sodas in the cooler.”
Chee helped himself to an oatmeal cookie, a strawberry, and a napkin. “I’ve been thinking about Mr. Natachi’s burglary. Why do you think it’s connected to the other cases?”
“Good question. First, the timing. He came in to report it during the recent rash of burglaries, and even though he couldn’t say for sure when the bolo disappeared, it made sense that he was another victim of the crime spree. The reports all mentioned the usual items—jewelry, guns, electronics, cash if it was lying around—and, again, the bolo fit the pattern.”
Black rested his hip against the edge of the desk. “All the homes were isolated, no neighbors to hear anything. None of the victims reported any vandalism. Not like what we see sometimes when a place is disturbed, destroyed really, from anger or meanness. These dudes are neat; no couches slashed, no kitchen drawers dumped out, none of that.”
“How many incidents?”
“Nine in the past three weeks. And no fingerprints at the scenes.”
Chee paused at the number, exceptionally high for an area of about 5,500 residents.
“How do the burglars gain entry?”
Black shifted position. “You know how it is with some of these elderlies. They grew up in a safer world. A lot of them leave their doors unlocked or windows open. In a couple of cases a lock was jimmied.”
“Did Ryana’s place get hit when her grandfather’s jewelry was stolen?”
“If it did, she didn’t report it. Come on, I’ll show you the reports and you can tell me if you get any bright ideas.”
In a back room, a few uniformed officers sat at computer monitors. Chee’s entrance drew some nods of recognition. Black motioned him to an empty desk, and a young man came over to them.
“Hey, Sergeant Chee. I’m Mark Adakai. I’ll set you up here.”
Black smiled. “You’re in good hands with Mark. Have a seat.”
Chee adjusted the chair to suit his height.
Adakai rolled up the empty chair next to Chee’s and brought the computer to life. He clicked on an icon, and the burglary information appeared as a vertical list of files. He showed Chee how to access the reports and pictures of the stolen items. “This should be what you need, Sergeant.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m working at the desk over by the window, so come and get me if I can help.” Adakai started to leave, then hesitated. “I heard about Mr. Natachi getting shot. Do you know how he’s doing?”
“He’s at the hospital now. Is the gentleman a friend of yours?”
“I remember him from when I was a kid and he’d visit our school to see his granddaughter, Ryana. The teacher might get him to teach us a little Navajo, tell a story, you know? I met him again when he came in to file the burglary report. He still knew my name.”
“Well, Mr. Natachi got his bolo back.”
“No kidding?” Adakai’s eyes widened. “How did that happen?”
Chee told the story.