Wild Wild Death (31 page)

The Old Ones.

Don’t ask me where the words came from, but there they were in my head, and I knew they were right. These were the spirits of the Taopi who had lived in this pueblo a thousand years before. They were smal people, and their eyes were fil ed with wisdom. As if they were no more substantial than the smoke that drifted around the altar, they swayed in each passing breeze, faded, floated, and came back into focus again. Strong Eagle nodded to acknowledge them. He said a few more words in the ancient language, and the next thing I knew, Chester Goodshot Gomez was standing next to the shaman.

I would have raced right over there if Jesse didn’t put a hand on my arm to stop me. In a heartbeat, I saw why. This was the moment the Taopi had been waiting for for more than one hundred years; Goodshot put a hand on Strong Eagle’s arm, and together, the two men walked to the entrance of the kiva and disappeared inside.

I was al for going after them to see what was up, but hey, I am not completely dopey when it comes to these sacred, woo-woo things. Jesse and the elders and the other cops stood with their heads bowed. So did Dan. I knew this was one time it was better to stay put—and keep quiet.

Not that it was easy. Standing there with the silence pressing in on me, I just about thought I’d burst. That is, until Strong Eagle and Goodshot emerged from the kiva and walked back toward the altar. By then the sun was above the mountains and it glinted like a mil ion stars against something in Strong Eagle’s hands.

The sacred silver bowl.

When Strong Eagle set it on the altar, I got a good look at it. The bowl was maybe a foot across and just as tal , hammered silver decorated with the same sorts of symbols that adorned the cliff face of the pueblo. Pretty much the only thing I know about silver is that it’s pretty and I like it for earrings and jewelry. But I knew this: the bowl was very old, and very special. Once it was on the altar, I realized that the humming vibration I’d heard ever since Strong Eagle started to chant wasn’t coming from the ground or the rocks or the cliffs. It was coming from the bowl. Like music.

Okay, I’m not a crier. I mean, not for stuff like this.

But hey, it was hard not to be moved by the magic of the moment and the look of gratitude in Strong Eagle’s eyes. A smile touched the shaman’s face. I didn’t understand the words, but when he spoke, I knew he was thanking the spirits and promising that Goodshot’s bones would be buried with honor on the pueblo.

Strong Eagle bowed to al the Old Ones, and I knew what that meant, too: the ceremony was nearly over, and Goodshot was about to disappear forever into swirling smoke and the stuff of legends.

He’d already started to fade when he looked across the altar and caught my eye. I didn’t see him move, but the next thing I knew, Goodshot was standing directly in front of me.

“The Taopi owe you their thanks,” Goodshot said.

“They can now use the silver bowl in their sacred ceremonies.”

My smile was watery.

“I owe you my thanks, too. You brought me back to this place where I belong. Strong Eagle, he understands this, and he wil explain it to the elders.

Don’t worry.” His eyes sparkled as much as his smile. “I’ve convinced him that you shouldn’t do time for snatching my bones.”

“Thanks.” I’d always been lousy when it came to good-byes and I scrambled for a way to make him stay, just a little while longer.

I didn’t need to. Goodshot wasn’t done. “I have been thinking,” he said. “About your Gift, and about how it deserted you when you were trying to help me and rescue your friend. I’ve asked the Old Ones to grant me a special favor, and they have agreed. The spirits are gone from your life, Pepper. You can live the rest of it in peace, without ever having to worry again about dealing with them. Or…” Goodshot looked into my eyes. “If you want, you can have your Gift back.”

“Real y?” It was a dumb question because, of course, he was serious. I knew ghosts wouldn’t bother to come back from the dead at magical ceremonies just to hand me a line. Funny thing was, I ceremonies just to hand me a line. Funny thing was, I didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes,” I said. “I would very much like my Gift back.”

Goodshot glanced toward Strong Eagle. “She is the raven,” he said. “The one who walks with the living, and the dead. This is one dead guy”—he gave me a wink—“who wil always be grateful.”

A breeze kicked up. It extinguished the candles on the altar and blew the smoke into the morning sky.

And when it was gone, so was Goodshot Gomez.

I

t took a couple days for the excitement to die down and for Jesse to get al his reports written and his phone cal s made. We decided to celebrate with dinner on the patio at the Taos Inn, and I wore my newly dry-cleaned batik skirt and yel ow tank in honor of the occasion. I knew it was worth getting al dol ed up when I saw the appreciative grin on Jesse’s face.

He was off duty, and he was wearing butt-hugging jeans and a black T-shirt. He was even more delicious than the Cowboy Buddha margarita I found waiting at the table.

He stood up and pul ed out my chair. “I ordered appetizers. I hope that’s okay.”

It was sweet. I only hoped my stomach would settle down enough to eat. Me, nervous? It was so not my style, but on the way over, I’d made a big decision, and it was time to share it with Jesse. In anticipation, my heart was beating a cha-cha against my ribs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut tonight short.”

Jesse didn’t have to say he was sorry because I could see it in his eyes. “A couple FBI agents are on their way up from Albuquerque. Said they’d be in this evening. I’ve been keeping them informed every step of the investigation, but we’ve stil got a lot to talk about.”

Not exactly how I’d dreamed of spending the evening. And it meant I didn’t have time to stal .

“Listen…” I plunked my elbows on the table and took a sip of my drink. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Jesse had a glass of ice tea in front of him, and he added sugar and stirred.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Good.” Another drink did nothing for the cha-cha, but it did taste good. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about, too.”

Stalemate or the opening I was looking for?

I didn’t find out because that’s when Dan showed up.

“Sorry to butt in.” Dan stood next to our table, shifting from foot to foot. He’d gotten a haircut since last I saw him, but he stil looked like a shaggy puppy. He stil looked miserable, too. Maybe that’s why Jesse took pity on him and waved to a nearby open table.

“Pul up a chair,” he said. “Join us.”

“No. I’m going to head over to the pueblo for that meeting we have with the FBI this evening.” Dan held out some papers toward Jesse. “I just wanted you to know that Pepper was right. I found these in with Cari—” He coughed and cleared his throat. “I found these medical reports in with Caridad’s things. She had lung cancer.” His voice was clogged with misery, but he went on. “I can’t believe it. She never said a thing to me about it, she just decided to handle things on her own. But that was Caridad. She was a strong woman. Like…” He poked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Like you, Pepper.”

I gladly accepted the compliment. After al , after nearly getting marooned in the desert, choked to death, and thrown off a cliff, I deserved at least that much. I sipped my drink, thinking, and yes, gloating just a little.

“Here’s something I don’t get,” I said, sipping done for the moment. “Wil Kettle told us he saw you at Norma’s house. But why—”

“I think I’ve got that figured out.” Jesse sat back in his chair. “Caridad cal ed you and told you to come there, didn’t she?” he asked Dan, who nodded in reply. “Because…”

“She said I’d find the bones there, and since I knew they were a real treasure to your people, I had to go look. Can you believe what a fool I was?”

Neither Jesse nor I was cruel enough to answer.

“She set me up,” Dan said. “She cal ed that other guy and sent him over, right?”

“Yeah.”

Jesse

confirmed.

“We

checked

Caridad’s cel phone records. She’s the one who cal ed Wil Kettle and told him he could pick up his guitar.”

“Just so this Wil guy could see me there and that would make me look even more guilty.” He was stil having trouble processing it; Dan shook his head and looked at Jesse. “Everything else?”

and looked at Jesse. “Everything else?”

“Al confirmed. John and Gregory, the other two kidnappers, they’ve been picked up back in Cleveland and they’re talking their little hearts out.

They did it for the basebal team, you know. Al so that the curse could be lifted and the team can start winning again.”

After al I’d seen in the Great Southwest, this sounded less crazy to me than it would have back home. “Goodshot’s buried,” I said. “Maybe they wil start winning again.”

“Maybe.” Dan back-stepped away from the table.

“Pepper, I just want to tel you…”

“Yeah, I know.” I waved away his concerns with one newly manicured hand, partly because I felt sorry for Dan, but mostly because I knew if I didn’t cut this short, I was going to lose Jesse for the rest of the evening, and I might never again have the nerve to bring up what I was going to bring up. What I hoped he wouldn’t think I was crazy for bringing up. “You were final y going to admit you have lousy taste in wives.”

For the first time since that night on the mountain, Dan grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.

And I was going to tel you that you’re a good friend, and I appreciate it. I was going to say, too, that the next time I’m in Cleveland…” He made a face. “You know, now that I think about it, I probably won’t cal you the next time I’m in Cleveland. Seems like every time I do that, I put you in some kind of mortal danger.”

He didn’t say good-bye before he walked away. I was grateful. I also appreciated that, even though he didn’t know it, he’d given me the perfect opening.

I swirled the little plastic straw in my drink.

“Speaking of Cleveland…”

“Exactly what I was going to say.” It wasn’t my imagination. Jesse was just as nervous as I was.

Before I could even wonder why, he said, “At the pueblo. You know, when Strong Eagle performed the ritual… I was wondering, did you see anything?”

Not exactly what I wanted to talk about so I sighed. Better get it over with. “You’re tel ing me you didn’t.”

“I saw Strong Eagle. And a beautiful morning.

And the smoke from the sage.”

“But no ghosts?”

“I felt…” Like he could stil feel it, Jesse scraped his hands over his arms. “I felt something in the air.

Like the electricity before a thunderstorm. I didn’t see a thing, though, but I was watching you. You were talking to somebody.”

I grinned. “Goodshot says thanks for al your help.”

A smile brightened Jesse’s expression. “You did see him. Does that mean…”

“Ghosts are us. I’m back in business.”

“Is that good news or bad?”

I thought about it while I sipped my drink. “I’m not sure yet. In fact, there’s only one thing I am sure of.”

He reached across the table and took my hand.

“Yeah, me, too.”

“And Jesse, I have to go back to Cleveland, and I’ve been thinking…”

Apparently, I hesitated just a tad too long because at the same time I final y said what I’d been bracing myself to say, “I’d like you to come with me,”

Jesse blurted out, “I want you to stay here.”

We laughed. At least until we realized what the deadlock meant.

“It’s great here,” I said, lying just a bit—I mean about the dust and the fact that there’s not always running water, and the lousy cel phone service and the coyotes and such. “It’s beautiful and you’re here and… but, wel …” I held tight to his hand. “It isn’t home.”

“And Cleveland wouldn’t be home for me, either.

My family is here, and I’m not used to cities. I like the wide-open spaces, the mountains, and the sage.”

“We could grow sage in the garden.”

He appreciated my attempt at being funny and squeezed my hand. “My people are here. And yours are there. I was afraid this was how tonight might end.”

Our waitress brought over tacos and burritos and set them down.

“Hey, don’t look so gloomy,” Jesse said. “We’ve got time.”

“Yeah.” I pushed the closest plate away. “And I’m suddenly not al that hungry anymore.”

Jesse stood up and pul ed me out of my chair.

“I’ve got two hours,” he said. He tossed up a room key and caught it in one hand. “And I know exactly how I’d like to spend them.”