“She’s not here.”
“OK. Lil.”
“Hold on.”
Leaphorn heard a television in the background. He’d begun to wonder if the child who answered the phone had forgotten about him when a woman’s voice interrupted his musings.
“Yá’át’ééh.”
Leaphorn asked if she spoke Navajo, and when she said she did, he introduced himself as a retired police detective working to help a woman in Window Rock solve a mystery. “I found the name Rita Begaye on the report of an old accident along with this phone number. You are not in any trouble. That Rita was a passenger in a car that was involved in a fatal accident. Was that you, ma’am?”
“Yes. What is this mystery?”
Leaphorn shared the same version of Mrs. Pinto’s assignment he had distilled for Peshlakai. He mentioned that the anonymous gift included the necklace, earrings, and the missing bracelet. He told her Peshlakai had created the set and believed it had disappeared after the accident. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
It only took her a moment to respond. “Peshlakai? I don’t remember much about that jewelry.” He heard uncertainty in her answer. “It was ages ago.”
“Maybe if I ask you some questions, memories might come back. It won’t take long. It’s important.”
“Go ahead then.”
“First, just to confirm, were you in the car that was wrecked?”
“Yes.”
He waited, but she didn’t volunteer anything more. He decided to move slowly.
“Would you tell me about that trip?”
He heard her sigh. “The one who died was my husband. We were just married, and I had never been to Santa Fe or to a big art show like that one, the famous Indian Market. I don’t like talking about it. Why are you stirring this up?”
Leaphorn explained his assignment again, this time adding a bit about the missing textile and his speculation that tracking the bracelet would help him find the dress. “I read the accident report on the crash, but it left out a lot of things. Mr. Peshlakai told me that the last time he saw that bracelet, he consigned it to your husband for the sale. I’m wondering how it got packed in a box that came to the museum.”
“You think the dress in that box belonged to Juanita?”
“That’s what the donor wrote. We need to make sure. If it’s true, it would be a treasure for our nation. I think the missing bracelet could lead me to the person behind the gift.”
“OK then, here’s what I remember.”
She started with the car wreck. It was late at night after a busy day. US 666 was two lanes and dangerous because of speeding, animals, drunks, and more. They had been driving for hours, and had just passed Tohatchi when she saw headlights approaching and moments later realized the oncoming truck was headed right for them. “I think the man was drunk. My husband moved to the far side of the road and then to the shoulder. The other guy just kept coming at us. It happened fast. You know how loud those trains in Gallup are? The sound was louder, worse. It gives me nightmares still.”
He heard her take a deep breath.
“After that, my brain went fuzzy. I remember a woman talking to me in an ambulance. I had to stay five days in the hospital. They told me my husband died right away. The one who did this to us died there, too, on the highway. We were only married two months before the accident.” Leaphorn heard the rumble of old grief in her voice. “I hate that road. I don’t care that they changed the name. Two little months, and then he was gone forever. My arm and my ribs were broken, and my heart was broken, too.
“When they said I could leave the hospital, I called my sister to help. She told me I needed to get my suitcase, you know, my clothes and all that. There was some trouble because I didn’t want to see the car. He had died in there, you know? My sister found somebody to help with that part, I mean, getting my things out and my husband’s things, too.”
Rita told him how she’d stayed with her sister, unable to work or care for herself.
“The money my husband made from the show went fast, but it helped me get by until I could work again. He liked to carve animals. I have a few of them still. That’s what he took to market. Those things and the jewelry for Bullfrog.”
“Bullfrog?”
“Yeah. That’s what he called Peshlakai.”
He heard the suggestion of a smile in her voice for the first time. “Bullfrog had beautiful silver work. I loved those bracelets, especially the one with a family of bears. My husband said he would trade for one for me, but they all sold out in Santa Fe. That was a good weekend until it turned into sadness.”
Both he and Bullfrog Peshlakai had made a mistaken assumption, Leaphorn realized. “Let me be sure I’ve got this right. You and your husband had already been to Santa Fe. The accident happened when you were coming back, is that right?”
“Yes. We were there the day before the official market opened and all day on Saturday. We didn’t stay Sunday because, like I said, he had almost sold out, and we were tired, ready to get home. We packed up a few eagles and a little bear and some jewelry and left before it got dark Saturday night. I wanted to get on the road because I had to work Monday. I lost that job because of the accident.”
“Did your husband keep records for his business, any notes on what he sold?”
“When he finished a piece, he made a little sketch of it and he would write the asking price, a space for the sale price, and the time it took to make it. When it sold, he put down who the buyers were so if he ever got in a gallery or had a show, he could send an invitation, an email or something like that. I don’t know how he got so smart.”
“Did he include the people who bought Bullfrog’s jewelry on the list?”
“I don’t remember. I know he kept that money separate and . . . Hold on.” Leaphorn heard a muffled voice in the background, and then Rita was back. “I have to go. We have to leave for the doctor’s.”
“One more question: Do you still have the paperwork from that show?”
When Rita spoke again, her voice was different, softer. “I saved it. I don’t know why, exactly. We had so much fun on that trip, and then it was all over forever. I miss him.”
Leaphorn knew what it was like to miss someone, how the numbness of shock fades into profound, bone-deep loneliness. “If I could take a look at those records, it might help the lady who hired me get some peace of mind.”
“I work in the evenings, but if you come by tomorrow, or I could meet you somewhere, I can show you what I have.”
“That would be great.” Before he hung up, he remembered something. “Do you remember anyone ever calling your husband Fat Boy?”
For the first time in the conversation, she laughed. “All his friends called him that because he was so skinny.”
Leaphorn contacted Mrs. Pinto. Over the years, he’d learned that even if he couldn’t give them much news, clients wanted updates. But she didn’t give him time to get in a word.
“I’m glad you got my message.”
“I didn’t get it.” He noticed the flashing light on his message machine for the first time. “What did you want to talk about?”