Chee’s incredulous tone caused Bernie to flush slightly. “I think so,” she said. “I couldn’t prove it.” A few moments ago Acting Lieutenant Chee might have scoffed at this remarkable idea. But not now. “Tell me,” he said. “How does he get them through the door?”
“It took me a long time to get the idea,” she said. “I think it was noticing that now and then I’d see that trailer parked at the Anasazi Inn at Farmington, and I’d think it was funny that you’d drive that big clumsy camper trailer around if you didn’t want to sleep in it.
I thought, you know, well, maybe he just wants a hot bath, or something like that. But it stuck in my mind.” She laughed. “I’m always trying to understand white people.”
“Yeah,” Chee said. “Me too.”
“So the other day when he parked the trailer in the lot at the station, when I walked past it I noticed how it smelled.”
“A little whiff of cow manure,” said Chee, who had walked behind it, too. “I just thought, you know, he’s around feedlots all the time. Stepping in the stuff. Probably gets used to it. Doesn’t clean his boots.”
“That occurred to me, too,” Bernie said. “But it was pretty strong. Maybe women are more sensitive to smells.”
“He’s got all the windows all stuck full of those tourist stickers, and they’re high windows. I tried to take a peek but I didn’t want him to see me snooping.”
“I guess we could get a search warrant,” Chee said. “What would you put on the petition? Something about the brand inspector’s camper smelling like cow manure, to which the judge would say ‘Naturally,’ and about Finch not liking to sleep in it, which would cause the judge to say ‘Not if it smells like cow manure.’”
“I thought about the search warrant,” Bernie said. “Of course there’s no law against hauling cows in your camper if you want to.”
“True,” Chee said. “Might be able to get him committed for being crazy.”
“Anyway,” Bernie said. “I called his office and I—”
“You
“I just wanted to know where he was. If he answered I was going to hang up. If he didn’t, I’d ask ’em where I could find him. He wasn’t there, and the secretary said he’d called in from the Davis and Sons cattle-auction place over by Iyanbito. So I drove over there and his camper truck was parked by the barn and he was out in back with some people loading up steers. So I got a closer look.”
“You didn’t break in?” Chee asked, thinking she’d probably say she had. Nothing this woman did was going to surprise him anymore.
She glanced at him, looking hurt, and ignored the question.
“Maybe you noticed that camper has just a straight-up flat back. There’s no door in it and no window. Well, all around that back panel it’s sealed up with silvery duct tape. Like you’d maybe put on to keep the dust out. But when you get down and look under you can see a row of big, heavy-duty hinges.”
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Chee was into this now. “So you back your trailer up to the fence, pull off the duct tape, lower the back down, and that makes a loading ramp out of it. He probably has it rigged up with stalls to keep ’em from moving around.”
“I guessed it would handle about six,” Bernie said. “Two rows of cows, three abreast.”
“Bernie,” Chee said. “If my ribs weren’t so sore, and it wasn’t going to get me charged with sexual harassment and cause us to run off the road, I would reach over there and give you a huge congratulatory hug.” Bernie looked both pleased and embarrassed.
“You put a lot of work into this,” he said. “And a lot of thought, too. Way beyond the call of duty.”
“Well, I’m trying to learn to be a detective. And it got sort of personal, too,” she said. “I don’t like that man.”
“I don’t much either,” Chee said. “He’s arrogant.”
“He sort of made a move on me,” she said. “Maybe not. Not exactly.”
“Like what?”
“Well, he gives you that ‘doll’ and ‘cute’ stuff, you know. Then he said how would I like to get assigned to work with him. But of course he said ‘under’ him. He said I could be Tonto to his Lone Ranger.”
“Tonto?” Chee said. “Well, now. Here’s what we do. We keep an eye on him. And when he’s on the road with a load, we nail him.
And when we do, you’re the one who gets to put the handcuffs on him.” 25
WHEN OFFICER BERNADETTE MANUELITO
parked Chee’s patrol car at the Lazy B ranch Elisa Breedlove was standing in the doorway awaiting them— hugging herself against the cold wind. Or was it, Chee thought, against the news he might be bringing?
“Four Corners weather,” she said. “Yesterday it was sunny, mild autumn. Today it’s winter.” She ushered them into the living room, exchanged introductions gracefully with Bernie, expressed the proper dismay at Chee’s condition, wished him a quick recovery, and invited them to be seated.
“I saw the story about you being shot on television,” she said. “Bad as you look, they made it sound even worse.”
