In the Arms of Stone Angels (14 page)

“Tomorrow, Joe's gonna take me to look for White Bird's sweat lodge,” I said. “If it's still there, like I think it is, we may find proof that could help him.”

“But if you find any real evidence, it won't be admissible in court unless the police find it as part of their investigation. Some chain of custody thing,” Mom said. When we both
stared at her, she shrugged. “What? I watch a lot of cop shows. You pick up this stuff.”

“Your mom is right, but I'm not sure about getting Sheriff Logan involved.” Joe was the first to say the sheriff's name. It creeped me out.

“Not the sheriff, but maybe there's someone else. Someone who wasn't in Shawano when all this went down.” I grinned. “That deputy, Will Tate. I think we can trust him.”

“I'll call the sheriff's office on my way home. A call from me wouldn't alert the sheriff, not like one from you or your mother. I'll ask the deputy to meet us at the bridge tomorrow morning. I can be very persuasive.”

“I'll bet.” I smiled. “That'd be great, Joe. Thanks.”

I knew we had a solid first step to help White Bird, but our plan didn't go far enough. He was trapped in his mind. And even if we could get the police to reopen the investigation into Heather's murder, that wouldn't free him from his misery.

“Earlier you said that I could help him. What did you mean by that?” I asked Joe. “Even if we get the cops to reopen the case, he's still trapped in his head.”

From the look on his face, Joe knew what I was talking about, but Mom was in the dark.

“Brenna, it's gonna be hard enough to get the sheriff to move on this,” she said. “If the people in this town find out how much you're involved, things could get uglier. Are you sure you want to chance that?” Mom reached for my hand. By the expression on her face, I knew she wasn't telling me not to help. She was only concerned for me. “This sounds…risky, especially for someone your age. You've already been hurt so much. I'm worried for you, honey.”

“Someone's got to stand up for him, Mom. He can't do it the way he is.” I gripped her hand. “Joe came here because he
thought it was important. And I do, too. Ever since I turned White Bird in to the sheriff, I haven't been able to get past it. I'm stuck at fourteen and I can't move on without dealing with this.”

“It's just that I'm scared for you, Bren. I want to help, but I don't know how.”

“I know you do, Mom. But I need you to trust me. For real. Can you do that?”

Mom didn't answer right away. If she'd nodded too fast or made promises she couldn't keep, then I would have seen it in her eyes. But when she kept silent and thought about the gravity of what I'd asked, that meant a lot to me.

“I'll try,” she said. It was the only answer Mom had. And it touched me more than if she'd said yes.

I knew I couldn't say what I really wanted to tell Joe with Mom around, so I waited for him to leave and walked him to his truck. Mom gave us privacy this time, even though I knew she was peeking out the window. In the moonlight and under the stars, Joe didn't look as scary as I had remembered him from the other night. I felt comfortable walking with him in silence, just like I used to do with White Bird.

“I want to thank you for coming, Joe.”

“I should be the one thanking you. What happened to that boy has been eating me alive. Guilt can consume you.”

I knew exactly what he meant.

“You walked me out here for a reason. Tell me what you think I should know.” The man didn't beat around the bush.

“I visited White Bird in that hospital when I first got here. And something…happened.” I chewed on the corner of my lower lip, thinking of how I would explain something I didn't understand myself.

But Joe made it easy.

“You saw his vision, didn't you?”

“How did you know?” I almost choked. “Yeah, I touched his arm and I got sucked into something really nasty. And I felt how scared he was.”

“You see? I knew you could do this.” Joe grinned and shook his fist in the air. “When I met you the other night, I saw the strength of your gift and I knew.”

“Yeah, well, don't get too excited. There's more,” I said. “I don't know if it's because of me that we connected, or because he's trying to reach out from some weird dimension.”

I told him about the images I saw in White Bird's vision, and I shared my continuing nightmares. I even told him about Dr. Ridgeway and what he'd asked me to do.

“The link you share is probably coming from both of you. It's hard to say. Do you trust the doctor from Red Cliffs?” he asked.

“No, but he's barred me from seeing him until I cooperate. If I want to see White Bird, I've got to go through Ridgeway.”

Joe nodded as he leaned against his truck and stared up at the moon, then said, “I will think about what you've told me. And we can talk more tomorrow. If White Bird is reaching out to you, it takes great strength to do that. I'm not sure how long he can keep that up.” He heaved a sigh. “We have to help him…now. And like I said, I sense that you are the only one who can do this thing.”

When Joe first asked me about seeing White Bird's vision, I was shocked. I didn't know how he'd make such a leap. And I remembered what he'd said about the gift I had. It took me a moment to make a leap of my own.

“That boy you were telling me about, the one who got
separated from his spirit guide. If quests are so private, how did you know about what happened to him decades ago?” I didn't wait for him to answer. “That boy was you.”

Joe only smiled and said, “White Bird picked you as a friend for a reason. And he chose wisely. I'll call that deputy tomorrow morning. And if he's agreeable, I'll pick you up, eight o'clock sharp. We'll start at the bridge and work our way out, before the heat comes.” Joe climbed into his truck and started the engine.

“I'll be ready.” I waved as he drove away. And when I turned to head back into the house, I saw the drapes move.

What happened with Joe had taken the sting out of the talk I owed Mom after I'd lied about going to the movies, but I was sure she'd have plenty more to say. I wouldn't get off that easy. When I got back into the house, she was the first one to speak up.

“I had no idea what you've been going through, Brenna. You've been trying to help that boy on your own. Guess you thought it was the right thing to do, huh?” After I nodded, she said, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Mom only knew a fragment of what was happening and that was good enough. The truth would have only hurt her, so I told her what I thought she could handle.

“It was something I had to work out on my own. I still do.”

I couldn't make up for the past between Mom and me. It was what it was. And I didn't know what our future would be like, either. All I knew was that I felt different about her this very second. Huddled on the couch where we'd watched home movies the other night, we talked until I got too sleepy to keep my eyes open. I kissed her good-night and went to bed. And although we'd talked about a lot of things, I hadn't
told her about seeing into White Bird's visions or about my conversation with Dr. Ridgeway.

All of that was mine. It was private and I had to make the decision on what would happen next. I knew that if I told Mom, she'd only want to fix it.

And I couldn't let her do that.

Hours Later

After Joe's visit, I welcomed White Bird into my dreams. I wanted to feel close to him and remember the good things that had happened between us. But as they usually did lately, my dreams of him turned into nightmares.

I thrashed under my blankets and woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. I didn't know where I was at first. The blackness of my room was no different from the empty void I had left behind. It wasn't until I heard Mom's voice and saw her come into my room that I realized I was at home.

“Brenna, it's only a bad dream, sweetheart.” She wiped my forehead with her cool hand and whispered to me. And with my heart pounding real hard and my panting so loud that I couldn't hear anything else, I strained to listen for her voice. “You're safe, honey. I've got you.”

Mom crawled into bed with me and held me as she whispered, “Shhh. You're okay, sweetheart. I'm here. I love you so much.”

I don't know why, but I cried and hugged her as hard as she hugged me. After I calmed down and got my body under control, I heard her say, “You know, Bren. I don't have to believe in the same things you do, but I do believe in you.”

That was the first time she had said that. It touched me so much that I couldn't say anything and the tears came stronger. I think Mom cried, too. We held each other and it felt good.
I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but I think she already knew. I didn't leave the house to go to the cemetery that night. I fell asleep with Mom holding me, exhausted.

The nightmare never came back. And I think I had Mom to thank for that.

Next Morning—8:00 a.m.

Abandoning my usual fashion circus, I kept things simple and dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt with sturdy boots. Today would be about searching hard and I didn't want to hold anyone back because of blisters or the heat. When I saw Joe's blue truck rolling down our street from my upstairs window, an army of butterflies pinged off the inside of my belly. I was anxious to get started. I finally felt like I was helping White Bird by doing something real. And I had my fingers crossed that Joe could help me turn my luck around.

I blasted down the stairs to find Mom.

“Joe called while you were in the shower. He said Deputy Tate is on board. He'll be at the bridge by eight-thirty,” Mom said as she ran a hand through my wet hair, touching up her handiwork. “Please…be careful.”

“I will. And I'll call you if we find anything, okay?”

She nodded, but she didn't look happy. I knew she wanted
to go with us, but she couldn't. The painters were already working and they wouldn't be done for days.

“And don't forget the things I packed for you and the guys. It's gonna be hot today. You'll need 'em.”

Mom had made breakfast to go for all of us—scrambled eggs and bacon wrapped in flour tortillas. And she'd packed bottled water, snack bars and a thing of sunscreen in the knapsack where I carried my spiral notebook and my collection of sunglasses. After our late night, I didn't know when she had time to pack the goodies.

“Thanks, Mom.” I kissed her goodbye and she walked me out.

When I got in Joe's truck, he waved at Mom, who stood on the front porch.

“I packed us water and other stuff.” He pointed his thumb to the bed of his truck where he had three knapsacks. And I laughed.

“Mom did, too. Guess we'll have plenty H
₂
O, but I bet you don't have these.” I unwrapped his breakfast and handed it to him so he could eat and drive. He looked happy after his first bite.

“Mmm. Good. Be sure to thank your mother.” He nodded. “Since my wife died, I don't cook much.”

“You were married?”

I should have said, “Sorry about your wife,” but I was more shocked that he'd gotten someone to marry him. He was such a…
guy
.

“Is that so unbelievable?” He smiled and took another bite of his breakfast. “We were married for twenty-one years. She was a good woman.”

“How did she die?” I asked.

Joe got real quiet. And I wasn't sure he'd answer me. Eventually, he said, “It was sudden. A brain aneurysm.”

“How awful.”

I flashed on the memory of the dead woman I had seen at Joe's place, the first time I'd met him. I had only caught a glimpse of her at his front window, but the image of her sad eyes had stayed with me. I suddenly knew who she was. And I also got a strong flash that she had died at home, alone. I don't know where these thoughts come from, but I'd learned to trust them.

A part of me wanted to ask Joe if he knew his wife was still with him, but that felt like a major intrusion—a line I shouldn't cross. The way I saw it, the dead had rights, too. No matter how curious I was about her, it wasn't any of my business. And besides, when he didn't say anything more, I knew it was time to change the subject.

We talked about my nightmares and what they might mean. And although I saw that Joe was concerned for me, he held back his real thoughts on how White Bird had reached out to me. I had to accept that his tribal and spiritual beliefs were deeply personal and not easy to share with an outsider. Eventually we got around to talking about Dr. Ridgeway and the Red Cliffs Hospital.

“I know this is your decision, but if you visit White Bird at that hospital, you should tell your mother. She's got a right to know. What you'd be doing is risky. And she's still your momma.”

“But what if she stops me?”

“I don't think she will,” he argued, without taking his eyes off the road.

“You got a better crystal ball than I do?”

Joe didn't answer, but I saw the corner of his lip twitch.

“Will you go with me?” I asked. “I don't trust that doctor.”

“Oh, but you trust
me?
” He smiled for real. “Yes, I'll go with you.”

“With you as the Grand Pooh-Bah of the Euchee tribe, maybe we can mess with the doc's head,” I said. “I'm sure the guy usually gets his way, but I'd like to see how he handles being off balance. It might be our best shot at doing what's right for White Bird…our way.”

I stared straight ahead with a grin on my face, but from the corner of my eye, I saw that I had Joe's attention.

“Sounds interesting. What do you have in mind?”

I turned to catch a glint in Joe's eye and I knew he'd go along. Dr. Ridgeway would get a taste of Shaman magic, whether he wanted it or not.

Outskirts of Shawano—8:35 a.m.

Like he'd promised, Deputy Will Tate was parked near the mouth of the trail that led to the haunted bridge over Cry Baby Creek. He'd ditched his uniform and was dressed in a blue T-shirt, an OSU ball cap and faded jeans with hiking boots. And his patrol car was nowhere in sight. With arms crossed, he was leaning against a red SUV. I was glad he'd downplayed the cop thing. Police cruisers drew attention and I didn't want anyone else to know what was going on until we got good news.

Word traveled too fast in this town as it was.

“Deputy Tate, glad you could make it.” Joe held out his hand and they shook. “We appreciate you coming before your shift.”

“Call me Will.” And when he turned to me, he said, “Hey, Brenna. Joe says you have a theory about a sweat lodge?”

Even though my theory wouldn't free White Bird, I hoped it would cast enough doubt to reopen the case. And that was good enough for now. I told him what I suspected.

“Interesting.” Will nodded. “I've seen the case file and there wasn't anything mentioned about a sweat lodge or the boy's vision quest. If we locate this lodge, we might find more evidence, but you have to be prepared. Whatever we find might make things worse for your friend.”

“Can things get worse?” I asked.

The deputy smiled. I didn't mean my question to be funny. I really wanted to know.

“And whatever we find,” Will added, “if it pertains to the case, don't touch it. Let me handle any evidence. And I'll have to tell the sheriff. It's my job.”

“Okay.”

“Then let's go.” The deputy led the way.

We grabbed our gear and headed out. And even though I sounded sure about White Bird, I had my doubts. My luck was for shit. If there were anything in these woods that could make things worse for him, I'd find it.

We started at the bridge where I'd found him kneeling over Heather's body. It had been hard for me to be there again. I never thought I would've returned in a million years. But there I was, acting tough like I could handle it.

Inside, I knew better.

That old rusted bridge had stood in silent witness to what had happened underneath it. I stared at it as I walked under. Rust stains bled down gray, bleached wood like blood. And the reason the bridge had been built no longer mattered. It spanned the dry creek without a purpose, going nowhere for decades.
Why had White Bird come here?

“This is where you saw him?” Will asked and pointed to a spot under the bridge. I told him what I remembered.

“Yeah. I was over there, behind those trees. He didn't see me.” Flashes of terror rose hot in my stomach when I told them what I knew. It wouldn't have taken much to make me throw up. And the heat wasn't helping. “He was staring off, like he didn't even know where he was.”

I caught Joe watching me. His concern told me all I had to know about what he was thinking. He was looking out for me like Mom would've been. And right now, I was worrying him. After taking a deep breath, I told them what I knew and my voice sounded like someone else was talking.

“After I called 911, he didn't run. I don't think he heard me. He was chanting something I didn't understand. And he was rocking back and forth. It scared me.” Even though it was already hot, a chill raced up my spine. “He was acting…crazy.”

“Was White Bird tested for drugs after his arrest?” Joe asked the deputy.

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “He was definitely under the influence. Notes in the murder book said the kid was really messed up. But something else was going on, 'cause drugs would've worn off. That's when he went to Red Cliffs for evaluation.”

The deputy took a good look around and pointed down the creek. “Let's spread out, but keep each other in sight.” After he explained a grid pattern to organize the search, he finished by saying, “Call out if you see anything. And keep hydrated. It's gonna be a scorcher.”

We didn't say much after that. We kept our heads down and worked it hard, feeling the gravity of what we were doing. I looked for Heather, but she never showed. Although I never
saw her, that didn't mean she wasn't there. She'd found another way to haunt me. I felt her under my prickling skin and flashes of her battered my mind with images I'd never forget.

Heather was just as cruel dead as she'd been alive.

Hours Later

When the sun beat down on us directly overhead, I knew it was close to noon as I sucked down more water. In the sweltering heat, my boots felt heavy and sweat clung to my skin like a fine layer of grit. Sunscreen had helped for a while, but it had melted off.

Cicadas buzzed in waves from the scrub oaks and mesquite trees, nothing more than a mind-numbing white noise. We worked our way along a rocky ridge, peering down into a red clay gorge near a tributary of the old creek. Even though I drank water, I didn't have to pee. Mainly because I didn't want to deal with the inconvenience, but I was battling dehydration. We all had slowed our pace and were taking more breaks.

It was on one of my rest stops that I saw a glint of something that had reflected in the sun. It caught my eye.

“What's that…over there?” I called out to Joe and pointed. “Something metal.”

I didn't wait for Joe or Will to see it. I stayed on the ridge and headed straight for where I had seen the reflection. As I rounded a bend, I heard the sound of creek water and followed my ears. The ridge overlooked the rolling hills below. And the water made the view an oasis in the heat. Without seeing a sweat lodge, I knew White Bird would have picked this beautiful spot for his vision quest.

“It's here. I know it.” I called out to Joe and the deputy. And I heard the smile in my voice. “He'd camouflage it, so look real good.”

Within minutes, we'd found what we came looking for.

“Oh, my God. This is it,” I called out to the others when I found the entrance. I pulled back the layers of blankets over the opening and looked into the dark lodge.

“You did it,” I whispered to him and pictured his smiling face.

White Bird had his sweat lodge in a dense stand of trees and it had been hidden in thick brush. We almost missed it. The structure he'd built looked undisturbed, but the fire pit was in a shambles with the stones shoved away and the ash pile filled with debris. It was yards away from the hut and closer to the creek.

“He did a fine job.” Joe nodded as he looked over what White Bird had done. “As good as I've ever seen.”

Joe was as interested in White Bird's accomplishment as I was, but Deputy Tate looked on the scene with a cop's eyes as he knelt at the fire pit, putting on latex gloves he had stuffed in his pants pocket.

“Looks like someone kicked these stones out. And I see a charred watch in the ashes. It's caked with clay, but it looks like a man's watch. Do either of you recognize it?” the deputy asked.

After we both shook our heads, Joe said, “Usually a boy on a vision quest has no need for a watch. Time means nothing. Did White Bird have one on him when he was arrested?”

“I don't know. I'll have to check.” The deputy gazed into the stone pit. “We'll take this one as evidence and clean it up. Hikers might have left it.”

Joe shifted his focus back to the sweat lodge.

“These are my blankets and hides. And that's my shovel.” He grabbed the blankets at the entrance to the sweat lodge
then pointed inside the hut. “And that's my grandfather's knife…over there.”

“You found your knife?” I asked him, then turned to the deputy. “I thought I read in old newspaper clippings that investigators found the murder weapon and had taken it as evidence.”

“They did, yeah,” Will agreed.

“Then why would he have two knives here?” I shrugged. “I can see him taking Joe's knife because it was made by a Euchee elder. He would have used it for everything. It would've been special to him. So why bring another knife?”

“Good question,” Will said.

“What kind of knife was used on the girl?” Joe asked.

“A hunting knife. Pretty common,” the deputy told him as he went inside the sweat lodge to retrieve the knife that had belonged to Joe. When he came back out, he looked closely at the blade, holding it in his gloved hands. “We'll have to test this, but it doesn't look like there's blood on it.” He shook his head. “It doesn't make any sense that he'd have two knives here. You're right.”

“I'd always assumed my grandfather's knife had been the murder weapon, especially after they found White Bird's fingerprints at my place after the robbery.” Joe grimaced. “I wasn't certain, but I was too afraid to ask. I figured if I drew attention to the weapon being my knife, that would only strengthen the case the police had on him.”

“And it would have,” Will agreed.

“But finding it now isn't enough, is it?” I asked. From the look on the deputy's face, I knew what he'd say.

“No, it's not. But I'll get a team out here to collect evidence. With your positive ID on the knife, Joe, we can link this site to White Bird. If nothing else, we can cast doubt on what
happened. But I don't think it'll be enough for Sheriff Logan to reopen the case. People would string Matt from the highest tree once details of this case came out.”