“Yep. Me and Mr. Palmer are here and I wanna go home.”
Chee silently grumbled into his clean uniform. He looked at Bernie, the blankets pulled up to her chin and still irresistible, her beautiful dark hair flowing loose, catching the light from the bathroom. She opened her eyes.
It was impossible to keep a secret from someone when you spoke on the phone in a trailer. Not that he wanted to. He told her all the details he knew. “I know you’d like this assignment. I hope you aren’t jealous.”
She chuckled. “Jealous? No way. I already worked tonight, and I wasn’t even on duty. Why can’t it wait until morning?”
“I’ll find out when I get to the station, but I bet you a doughnut I’m driving to Tuba City.” He took his duffel from beneath the bed and folded in T-shirts, socks, underwear.
Bernie sat up. “Stay in touch, OK? And take some long johns. It’s freezing out there.”
“I’ll text you when I know what’s up.” That way, if she was asleep, he wouldn’t wake her.
His breath looked like white steam inside his truck, and Chee knew it wouldn’t get warm in the time it took to drive to the station. His police unit would be cold, too. But the call made him curious, distracted him from the discomfort. An assignment from the chief. That was a first.
He found Largo at his desk and a tall Navajo in a Chieftains jacket and matching red warm-up pants pacing and fiddling with his cell phone. He’d never met Aza Palmer, but Chee had seen his photo in the article about the reunion game. From the story, he knew Palmer was about his age, but the man’s face was lined and his hair gray at the temples. Hard living, Chee thought, or maybe some underlying medical issue.
The captain made introductions and told them to sit. He got to the point quickly. “Cordova noticed one of the flyers in the gym, the one from Save Wild America calling for demonstrations at the meeting at Tuba City. He knew the group had been involved in violence in California, including a bomb that did major damage and sent some folks to prison. Mr. Palmer has received threatening e-mails from them questioning his motives and his character.”
Palmer folded his hands in his lap and looked at Chee. “That kind of suspicion is totally misinformed. The mediation brings together the major parties with an interest in and disagreement over the plans for the resort. My job is to keep the conversation civil, on point, and help the parties involved reach some sort of resolution. I’m the referee, not the star player.” He straightened in his chair and glanced at Chee. “I tried to keep him from calling you. You guys are overreacting. If someone had wanted to do serious damage, they would have used a bigger bomb and timed it to explode when the game ended. Or just shot me.”
Largo drummed his fingers on the desk. “Tell Chee what happened after you left the Pit tonight.”
“I couldn’t drive my car, of course, so I called Katie, my clan sister, to pick me up after the FBI guy had asked me the same questions several times. I’d planned to spend the night at her place anyway. Well, this car she hadn’t seen before blocked the entrance to her road. Somebody got out and started waving at us, motioning for her to stop. I wanted to talk to him, find out what he was up to. But Katie couldn’t tell who it was and what happened at the gym spooked her.”
Chee noticed the calmness in the man’s voice, the tone of a person who had looked danger in the face more than once.
Palmer took a breath and continued. “Then the person started to follow us, right on her bumper. She came here. When she turned into the lot, the other car drove on. Katie called her boyfriend, and he came down, drove home with her, checked things out. Everything was cool at her place, so I assume the incident was about me.”
Largo leaned in toward Chee. “The chief called me at home after he heard about the bomb at the gym. He takes this seriously. We don’t want the Navajo Nation to be embarrassed by an incident in Tuba. The mediation session is on our home turf. We have to make sure the star of the show stays safe.”
Palmer started to protest, but Largo waved him quiet. “Chee, drive Palmer to Tuba in your unit, check into the hotel with him, and stay there until the feds get a handle on this.”
Chee grimaced. “You mean, like a bodyguard?”
“More than that. The chief wants you to be on the lookout for any kind of trouble that might disrupt the talks, not just threats to Palmer.” Largo held his hands out. “The chief remembered that you’d spent some time in Tuba City. The other officers there have their hands full keeping up with the protesters, the other bigwigs, you name it. I’ll tell the captain in Tuba what’s up.”
Chee frowned. He’d worked with the chief when the man was a captain, before he rose to head the 250-officer Navajo Police Department The man was a decent officer, a good yarn spinner, and a superb politician. Chee wished that he’d made less of an impression. He didn’t sign on as a cop to be a bodyguard and chauffeur.
Palmer said, “This is ridiculous. Chee can take me back to Katie’s place tonight. I’d like to check on her. I’ll rent a car tomorrow in Farmington.”
Chee liked the idea, but he knew the captain well enough to understand the situation offered no room for debate.
“Here’s what’s happening.” Largo used the same voice he reserved for scolding those who came to complain about something based on rumors and anti-cop prejudice. “Contact your clan sister and get her to bring the stuff you need to the motel. You’re safer without a car for the next few days. Chee will make sure nothing disturbs the mediation and embarrasses the Navajo Nation. We don’t want to see you dead, you don’t want that either. Do us all a favor. Cooperate.”
Palmer shook his head. “You’re overreacting.”
Largo leaned toward him. “I don’t care what you think. This isn’t subject to argument. You came to us for protection, remember? That’s what I’m offering. Katie stopped here because she was worried about you after those incidents tonight. If you don’t want our help, get out. We’re not running a taxi service.”
Chee registered the look Palmer gave the captain, an expression of someone who issued orders and wasn’t used to getting them. Palmer stood. “It’s late. Let’s go to Tuba City.”