Vanished in the Mountains Read online

  “There’s milk in the fridge and sugar in the cabinet if you use it.”

  “I do. Thanks.”

  He took another sip. “Since I have nothing for a good breakfast, I thought we might head out early and stop at a place I know in Cortez. It’s far enough out of Durango I don’t think we’ll be seen.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll grab a shower and we’ll take off.”

  She nodded and he hurried up the stairs two at a time. Dulcie sipped her coffee. The cabin really was a nice place. It just needed a few finishing touches. The wooden ceiling beams were stained a golden color, like the sunshine. She walked into the living room area and ran a hand along the smooth river rock on the fireplace. Still warm from the blazing fire, it emanated a soft heat. She settled on the hearth and imagined what she might do to add some color to this fantastic open area.

  Maybe a painting on the wall beneath the high windows...no...one of the beautiful natural handwoven Navajo blankets she’d seen in the stores downtown. A lovely two-handled Navajo horsehair vase, a ceramic in white with black cracks etched on the surface. Thick strands of real horsehair were fired in the pottery and burned away creating the black etchings. Dulcie had seen an example of the craft at the same Native American store where she saw the woven blankets and loved the unique black markings of the pottery immediately. A large piece would look perfect on the dark rock of the hearth.

  She sat content, decorating Austin’s empty house in her mind, until he came down the stairs, shaved and with his stubborn little cowlick combed into place.

  She smiled. “Your home is amazing. You were right about these windows. They’re spectacular.”

  “I didn’t think you were so convinced last night.”

  “Forget about last night. I was sleep deprived.” She really felt like a different person this morning, stronger, brighter, ready to solve the mystery ahead of them. She was sure she owed it to Austin and the confidence his presence gave her. “I had the best night of sleep I’ve had in months. Thank you.”

  Her heartfelt words seemed to move him. His crooked smile was genuine. “Well then, let me feed you before you start to feel food-deprived. It’ll take me a few minutes to warm up the Jeep. I’ll pick you up on the porch.” He slid into his hat and coat. Tossing her the keys to the door, he stepped out. The brisk cold air swept into the room, making her thankful he’d volunteered to warm up his vehicle.

  She ran upstairs and grabbed a knitted scarf from her suitcase. By that time, she could hear the idling engine just outside the door. After slipping on her jacket, she hitched her purse over her shoulder and locked the door behind her. Austin pulled his shiny blue Jeep close to the rock-lined walkway. The storm had brought two or three inches of snow that lay on the ground like a pristine blanket. It seemed as if her entire world had been washed clean. Austin’s golden home full of sunshine. The sparkling snowy perfection around them and the handsome man smiling at her from the driver’s seat brought her a joy she hadn’t experienced in a long time... Maybe ever. It was hard for her to remember that men were chasing her, determined to do her harm. As if to preserve the perfect moments of the morning, she stayed in Austin’s steps on the path, so she wouldn’t disturb this soft winter wonderland tucked deep in the forest. Just before she climbed into the Jeep, she glimpsed a small wooden building with chicken wire surrounding it.

  Austin took the keys and tucked them into the console. Then he headed down the snow-covered road. It seemed a shame to disrupt the beautiful white covering on the dirt road. Soon they came to the highway. Many cars had already passed over it. The snow had melted and the black asphalt slashed across the white scene with muddy slush on each side. Her winter wonderland was disappearing with every mile they traveled. But one question, one thought lingered.

  She couldn’t contain it and blurted it out. “Why chickens?”

  He turned to her, with a half smile and a half frown. “What about chickens?”

  “I mean, why did you choose chickens? Not a usual pet like a dog or a cat.”

  “Oh, my counselor advised me to find something to care for.”

  “You went to counseling?”

  “I met with my pastor for over a year, trying to forgive myself.”

  His words gave Dulcie pause. “Why did you need forgiveness?”

  He was silent for such a long time, Dulcie thought she’d gone too far, stepped over a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. She bit her lips, sorry that she’d pushed for answers he didn’t want to discuss. She turned away.

  Then he surprised her with words spoken in a low tone. “I was a sheriff’s detective out of Gallup, New Mexico. I knew the dangerous, empty stretch of reservation road Abey traveled over that night, knew the statistics by heart. I should have stopped her from driving home. I...failed to protect... The one thing I took an oath to do when I signed on to become a sheriff. All I ever wanted was to protect people, to help...and yet I couldn’t help the most important person in my life.”

  Dulcie wanted to protest, to tell him he wasn’t responsible. She felt the need to reach out and reassure him even though all of her counseling training told her she needed to let him speak. It was all she could do to keep silent. What was it about this man that made her want to act against all she knew? Somehow, he reached deep inside her, passed all her trained barriers to her basic instincts. She didn’t know if that was bad or good. She only knew she didn’t want him to stop.

  “The department counselors finally suggested a transfer. So I applied for the La Plata County Sheriff’s Department and made the move, relocated to Durango. I invested in my cabin in the mountains above town, bought a horse, two cows, and let chickens roam over my property. The pine trees and the green were so different from the flat dusty mesas of New Mexico, it changed things. Maybe changed me.”

  He glanced her way and then back to the road. “At any rate, it didn’t seem fair to pick an animal that needed companionship when I’m gone so much of the time. It wouldn’t be right to leave a dog home alone most of the day.”

  It made sense and was fair. But she had the feeling there was more to his thoughts. She wasn’t surprised when he continued.

  “And besides... I didn’t want something I would become too attached to. I couldn’t stand losing something else.”

  His words doused her lovely morning in cold. It was the saddest thing in the world to know that he had that beautiful place in the forest full of sunshine and peace and couldn’t enjoy even a small part of it. It seemed so wrong for the caring man she sensed beneath his walled exterior.

  She studied him. “Did it work? Did you stay unattached?”

  He almost nodded, then a slow, wry smile slipped over his features and a small chuckle escaped. “Are you kidding? Did you see my chicken coop? As soon as I found out some of my chickens were missing and I saw the mountain lion tracks, I went straight to the lumberyard and bought enough wood to build the Taj Mahal of chicken coops. My birds live like kings.”

  He gave her another quick glance, filled with humor, and she smiled back. Some morning sunshine spilled into her heart. There was more she wanted to say but she left it at that. They both needed that morning sunshine right now.

  They traveled down the mountain and through Durango, leaving the forests and the snow behind. They passed the entrance to Mesa Verde National Park, the park that preserved the largest collection of Ancestral Puebloan, formerly known as Anasazi, dwellings in the country. She’d heard all about the park and its cliff dwellings, but she’d never visited. She could easily have made a day trip but somehow, never found the time. That thought made her sad. She loved her work, loved helping the women. Why did she suddenly regret her choices?

  Just a few more miles down the road, the snow disappeared. Only a few banks of mud and slush graced the sides of the streets in the small town of Cortez, just fifty minutes awa
y from Durango.

  They stopped at a small roadside café and ate a quick breakfast but were back on the road soon. They left the foothills behind and dipped into the open flatlands that led to northern New Mexico. The change of environment came so quickly, Dulcie was in awe. A panorama opened up for her. She could see for hundreds and hundreds of miles. Mountains dotted the vast open area, popping up out of seeming emptiness. To her right was a massive, flat-topped mesa. The sun had not come out in full force, so everything was tinged with soft purples that blended into the dark shadows.

  “I’ve seen numerous paintings of the area, but I never understood why the painters used so many purple and lavender colors. Now I do. It’s a true reflection of the land. It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  Austin nodded. “Yes, it is. We’re heading into New Mexico. At sunset, those purple mountains will turn mauve then gray. It looks like a vast empty desert but hidden in all those purple shadows are canyons and wonders. There’s a reason New Mexico is nicknamed the Land of Enchantment.”

  The tone of his voice gave her pause. “You love this land, don’t you?”

  He studied the view ahead of him. “It’s my home, where I grew up. It’s a part of me. But it can be a harsh place...unforgiving. I’m not sure I can say I love it anymore.”

  He pointed to a road up ahead. “That leads to the Four Corners marker where New Mexico, Utah, Colorado and Arizona meet in one spot. You can stand on the marker and be in all four states at one time. The spot is on tribal lands. There’re some concessions and a few refreshment stands. Not much to see besides the marker. But you can take a picture with both feet in all four states.”

  He gave her a small smile that made her wish they could stop right now and take that picture. Not for the first time Dulcie wondered about the effect Austin Turner was having on her.

  They traveled for over an hour with Austin pointing out interesting spots and different mesas. At long last they turned off the highway onto a dirt road. They drove for almost thirty minutes on the rough, bumpy, pothole-marked trail.

  “I can’t believe anyone lives out here. There’s nothing. Just a few telephone poles and electric wires.”

  “Some places don’t even have those. The traditional Navajo reject modern conveniences. They stick to the old ways. Plus, the government broke the land into allotments and gave each family a place. In those days they needed lots of land to graze their sheep, so they appreciated the distances between. Things are different now, but they still love their land and the open spaces.”

  Dulcie allowed her gaze to follow the power lines to where they crested over a hill and dipped down out of view. Sure enough, as the vehicle came to the top of the hill, they looked down on a trailer with several wooden outbuildings and a pen with a few goats. A woman stood in the pen with the animals, pulling apart a bale of hay. As they drove closer, Dulcie recognized Doris Begay. As soon as they were near enough for her to identify them, her body language changed. She shook her head and sent them a scowl meant to keep them at bay.

  “Looks like we’re not very welcome.” Dulcie frowned.

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Taking a deep breath, Dulcie climbed out of the truck and walked with determination toward the woman. Doris was dressed in jeans and a faded plaid shirt. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail with wisps of hay caught in it. She turned back to her work so that when Dulcie got close, she had to speak to get her attention. “Hello, Doris.”

  The woman turned sharply. “Why are you here? Judy’s dead and Matt’s in jail. What else do you want from me?”

  Dulcie halted in her footsteps, shocked by her bitter hostility. She looked at Austin and he continued forward, not backing away from the woman’s obvious anger.

  “Yes, Matt is in jail. But we think we might have the wrong man.”

  She shook her head. “He killed my girl. I know it. You need to keep him locked up for the rest of his life.”

  Austin nodded. “You’re so sure he did it, Doris?”

  She nodded vigorously. “He did it.”

  Doris glared at Austin, daring him to deny it.

  Austin ducked his head. “I think you’re right. Matt killed your girl, but was he alone? Did someone help him?”

  The rage fled and her features washed cold and white. The belligerence bled out and she shook her head. “I don’t know nothin’ about that. Nothin’.”

  She was lying—Dulcie knew it and so did Austin. He pressed her for more info. “Who was Matt hanging out with before Judy disappeared?”

  The woman shook her head. “He didn’t need no drinkin’ buddies. He did that all by hisself.”

  “All right, where did he do his drinking?”

  She shook her head. “I told you. I don’t know nothin’. Now go away and leave me alone.” Spinning, she headed toward the house, too angry to say more.

  Austin shook his head in frustration. Dulcie couldn’t let her get away without more answers.

  “What about Susan, Doris? Where can we find her?”

  Doris halted in her footsteps. After a long pause, she looked back over her shoulder. “That one is her grandmother’s problem. Ask Bea Yazzie.”

  “Where can we find her?”

  She hesitated a moment longer. “At Tséyi. Her hogan is near the White House Trail.” With that, Doris Begay marched to the front door of the trailer and slammed the door shut behind her. Austin nudged his head toward the truck. They both headed toward it.

  As soon as they slid inside Dulcie said, “Is that it? You’re a sheriff. Are you just going to let her shut you out like that?”

  “I told you. I have no authority on the reservation.”

  Sagging, she leaned back on the seat. “I’d forgotten. So, what is Tséyi? Do you have any idea?”

  He nodded. “It’s Canyon de Chelly, one of the Navajos’ sacred places. It’s close.” He started the engine. “Did you notice she didn’t use Susan’s name?”

  Dulcie caught her breath. “She called her that one. Do you think she believes Susan is one of the Missing Ones?”

  Austin nodded. “Maybe. One thing is certain—Doris Begay knows a lot more than she’s willing to tell us. We’re going to need more help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “I know someone on the tribal police force. I’ll call him. But first we’ll pay a visit to Susan’s grandmother.”

  He jammed the Jeep into Reverse and backed up. As he turned the truck around, Dulcie’s side of the vehicle swerved close to the front of the trailer. Just inside a small window beside the door, she glimpsed Doris peeking out from behind a white curtain and she had an old-fashioned phone held up to her ear. As soon as she saw Dulcie, she jerked her hand away and the curtain fell back into place.

  “She’s talking to someone on the phone, Austin. I thought you said living out here she wouldn’t have any modern conveniences. Do you think she’s calling Susan’s grandmother to tell her we’re coming?”

  Austin’s features tightened into a grim frown. “Not if Bea Yazzie lives in the canyon. There’s no electricity there.”

  “Then who is she in such a hurry to talk to?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Fortunately for us, anyone we need to worry about is in Durango, three hours away. We’ll have time to talk to Susan’s grandmother and get out of there before they can reach us.” He slammed the gearshift into forward motion and kicked a dusty cloud up behind them.

  FIVE

  As he drove to the highway Austin’s mind traced over the time it would take them to get to Canyon de Chelly and back again. They were less than an hour away. Half an hour to trek down the trail and a half hour back up. They might cut it close, but they could make it out of the canyon before the people Doris Begay had called could arrive. One thing about the reservation—it was spread out.

  Doris�
��s actions seemed clear to him. She was convinced that Matt Kutchner had killed her daughter and thought he should stay in jail. But she was afraid of the men he’d been hanging around. Too afraid to even name them. She’d come back to the reservation to hide, and now she was willing to buy her safety by reporting their visit to the men she feared. Austin was almost sure that’s who she called. Now he and Dulcie had limited time to get in and out before anyone could respond to Doris’s call.

  But they had to locate Susan Yazzie. Right now, their whole investigation hinged on finding a clue to her whereabouts. If they didn’t find that new direction, their trip today was a waste of time...time that was running out. Austin’s internal clock was ticking away. Things were coming to a head. He could feel it.

  “Tell me about Canyon de Chelly.”

  Dulcie’s question pulled him out of his thoughts. It took him a minute to change gears. “Well, let’s see. It’s one of the longest continually inhabited places in America. The Navajo have been there since before the Spanish came and some ruins of the Ancestral Puebloans are preserved there too.”

  “So people have lived in Canyon de Chelly for over a thousand years?”

  “Yes, the Ancestral Puebloans lived there for generations before the Navajo people. In fact, Anasazi, the name we used to use to label the Ancestral Puebloans, came from the Spanish. They used the Navajo word for ancient enemies. It doesn’t properly describe the people who lived in those dwellings so we stopped using it.”

  “I thought the only cliff dwellings were at Mesa Verde.”

  “No, they’re dotted all over the Four Corners area. In fact, we’ll see some in the canyon. Severe drought and difficult times forced the people of the Chaco culture out of the flatlands into the mountains where there was more water. They built their homes in crevices and clefts for protection using wood and plaster. Some of them look like modern-day apartments with multiple stories. They accessed the top floors by going through rooftop doors and ladders on each level. In some places the only access to the dwellings was by hand-and footholds.”