Leaphorn stayed standing in the doorway. “I’m not the right person, and the officer doesn’t think he needs any help.
“You might ask Chee to handle it. He knows the man.” Leaphorn glanced at the clock on the wall behind Largo’s desk. “Let’s do dinner next time. I’m working a case with a deadline, and I need to get back to Window Rock and think about it.”
“Sure. Since you’re headed that way, can you do me one more favor?”
“What is it?”
“It involves a stop at animal control in Fort Defiance. Bigman brought in an abandoned dog found at a crime scene, and our Shiprock shelter is full. Sandra could drive it down there in the morning, but since you’re going south, would you mind?”
“No problem.”
“I’ll call to make sure someone is around to receive it.”
The call was successful.
Largo loaded the kennel into the bed of Leaphorn’s truck. “Dinner next time then, my friend. Thanks for coming. Watch out for the crazies.”
Normally, Leaphorn would have phoned Louisa to tell her about his day and let her know that he was on the way home. He could have reached her in Flagstaff, of course, but she had told him she wanted time alone. She’d call when she was ready, he decided. He remembered the phone charger she’d left at the house. Maybe she couldn’t call. No, she would use the phone at her old office to ask him to bring the charger and then, well, they could talk.
He drove a different route home, NM 134 past Sheep Springs and then over Narbona Pass at 8,721 feet. The highway took advantage of the natural break between the Tunitcha Mountains to the north and the Chuskas to the south. In the fading light, he saw thick clusters of Gambel oak and slender white aspen trunks with their quaking, roundish leaves. The steep climb to the summit drew runners and cyclists training for competitive events, including a popular race up this same road. The panoramic view of Navajoland stretching to the east was their reward, and now his. He pulled off the highway to enjoy the vista. His disgruntlement at Wilson Sam was gone.
Leaphorn lowered the window. The cool air smelled of ponderosa pine and spruce, and he absorbed the calm. When he drove back onto the highway, he noticed motion with his peripheral vision, and then a large black bear stepped out of the trees and onto the road. Leaphorn lifted his foot off the gas and steered into the other lane, glad there was no oncoming traffic and willing the animal to run back toward the trees and not in front of his truck. It bounded away from him with strong, lumbering beauty. Leaphorn exhaled.
He cruised past the junction for Crystal, famous for its weavers, noticing small herds of cattle grazing on the native grass, seemingly unconcerned about sharing the territory with a large predator. The road continued its descent, heading southwest toward the Arizona border. The golds, pinks, and crimsons of the sunset gave the landscape a deceptive softness. Some considered dusk a time to relax; he found the present moment perfect for rehashing the problem of Mrs. Pinto’s missing textile and bracelet.
What had he overlooked? Could someone want Mrs. Pinto to think the shipment contained a precious remnant of the past if it didn’t? His thoughts returned to Tiffany’s sudden death. Mrs. Pinto had said the young woman was worried about not respecting the dead. If she was a thief, she had reason to be concerned. Could she have taken her own life?
As he approached Fort Defiance, his cell phone rang. He answered on the speaker phone, thinking it was Louisa, but he recognized Jessica’s voice.
“Young lady, you’re working late.”
“No, sir. Well, yes, I have the late shift. I wanted you to know that I found that report on the old accident you wanted.”
“Great work.”
“It’s not me, really. They are organized at the New Mexico Department of Transportation. They located what you needed right away using the date for the Indian Market and the fact that two people died on 666.”
“When can I take a look?”
“I could email it.”
Leaphorn hated reading long documents on the computer. He waited for her to move to the next option.
“Or, tell you what, I’ll print a copy. If I’m gone, I will leave it on my desk with your name.”
“I’d appreciate that. I’ll come by for it tonight.”
“Sir, can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you want this?”
Appropriate, he thought, and respectfully timed. “Part of the case you are helping me with involves some items that may have been in one of the cars in that accident.”
“Cool. A clue from an old case, like something on TV. That rocks. I’ll leave the report here for you tonight.”
“Thank you. And I’m hoping you can do me another favor.” He asked her to check on Tiffany Benally, to see if she had a record.
“Glad to help. When would you like this?”
“In about an hour if you can.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He arrived in the town of Fort Defiance, rang the bell at the animal shelter, and stood by the kennel in the back of his truck while he waited for a staff member. Leaphorn noticed that the dog was sitting calmly. It looked at him with clear, trusting eyes. He had a stash of jerky in the glove box, and he pulled it out and offered a piece to the animal. It took the treat gently from his hand and swallowed without chewing.
The attendant, a young man with braces on his teeth, lifted the dog and the cage out of the truck for him. He spoke in English. “Is this the animal from the Shiprock police station?”
Leaphorn nodded. “What happens to it now? This dog was found with a dead person. I think it could use some extra attention.”
The attendant looked puzzled. “Sorry. I don’t speak Navajo.”
Leaphorn tried English. “Wha happen to da dog?”
“I don’t know what happened to it. The guys up there in Shiprock know its story, so you should ask them. It’s probably a stray causing trouble.”
“Get dopted?”
“What?”
“Da dog get a home?”
The man shrugged. “Who knows, man? We’ve got a lot of dogs here. We’ll keep it until we know that the investigators don’t need it. Then, if no one wants it, we’ll put it down.”
Leaphorn recalled Largo saying that the dog stayed with the body, even though it was hot, even though it could have gone to the river to cool off and get a drink. Good luck to you, dog, he thought. You were a loyal friend and you deserve a second chance.
He turned on the radio to KTNN and heard Pine Tree Clan Singers, and then an ad for the Native Broadcast Enterprise Scholarship, and then a sales pitch for Cowboy Bob and one-stop shopping for Chevrolets. The half-moon was up when he pulled into the Window Rock police station. Jessica was on the phone, but she had a large envelope and a sweet smile for him. He put the envelope on the passenger seat with the cardboard box, drove home, and started a pot of coffee.
While the coffee brewed, he sat at the table and, with a sense of excitement, took a look at the information.
The report, compiled by New Mexico State Police officers and archived by the New Mexico Department of Transportation, was thorough, too thorough almost—filled with information that didn’t matter to his case. He flipped through the pages, learning the makes of the vehicles involved, the estimated time of the accident, and the fact that both drivers were deceased when the first responders arrived. At the scene, the investigating officer found four empty beer cans on the floor of the cab of the truck driven by Rick Fernandez. The report noted that Alvin Begaye and a passenger, a woman named Rita Begaye, were in the sedan with Alvin driving. Rita’s address and phone number were included, and the information matched Alvin’s. Given the woman’s age and the surnames, Leaphorn assumed she was Alvin’s wife, sister, or cousin. Rita had gone to the hospital.