ourselves at home.”
Leaphorn had no comment on that. He held his wrist-watch close enough to read its hands, looked out at the brightening sky, and found himself confronting the same need for self-analysis he’d felt a few days ago when he was home alone, analyzing what he had run into since he’d begun this chase of Mel Bork and the tale-teller rug.
Wondering if he had slipped prematurely into senile de-mentia. Why was he here and what did he expect to accomplish? He couldn’t quite imagine that. But on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine turning back either. So they may as well get on with it.
“Here’s what I think we should do,” Leaphorn said.
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TONY HILLERMAN
“Mr. Vang will stay in the truck here. Sitting behind the steering wheel. Like the driver doing just what Mr. Delos probably was expecting to find. Is that right, Tommy?”
“I think so. This is what he told me to do.”
“Then Mr. Delonie and I will get out and find us a place where we can sit and watch for Mr. Delos to come back.
Either we’ll sit together, or close enough so that when Mr.
Delonie gets a good enough look to make sure he knows who it is, he can signal me, one way or another.”
“Um,” Delonie said, “then what?”
Leaphorn had been hoping he wouldn’t ask that. “I guess it will depend on a lot of things.”
“Tell me,” Delonie said. “Like what?”
“Like whether when you see him you tell us he is this Shewnack. Or whether you tell us he isn’t, and you don’t know who he is.”
“If he ain’t Shewnack, I’d vote for just driving right on out of here. Heading right on home.”
“I guess we might do that,” Leaphorn agreed. “But I’d think if it’s Delos, then I think you have some questions you’d like to ask him about that bottle of poisoned cherries he sent you. I know I’m curious about the one on top of that slice of fruitcake he sent me off with.” Delonie snorted. “He’ll point at Tommy Vang here and tell us Vang must have done that. Tell us that Tommy has been sort of crazy ever since he was a kid. All mixed up by all that violence back in Laos, or wherever it was.”
While he was listening to that, Leaphorn was thinking that Delonie was probably right. That was just about what Delos would say. And it might even be true. But if he was going to play out this game, he had better get moving. He THE SHAPE SHIFTER
237
opened the truck door, which turned on the interior light, and quickly shut it.
“Let’s minimize the light,” he said to Delonie. “When I say ready, we both hop out and shut the doors behind us. Then Vang can climb over into where he’s supposed to be sitting.”
“First off,” Delonie said, “you hand me back my rifle.”
“I’ll carry it,” Leaphorn said.
“I’ll put the scope back on it,” Delonie said. “Can’t use the scope here in this closed space with it tied to a rifle barrel. But get it outside and it’s better.” Leaphorn considered this.
“I’ll tell you this, too. I ain’t getting out of this truck without that rifle,” Delonie said. “If it’s Shewnack, he’d kill me on sight. I want to have something to protect myself with.”
“So do I,” Leaphorn said. “I want to protect myself from going to jail with you if you shoot him.”
“Don’t trust me?”
“You think I should?”
Delonie laughed. Punched Leaphorn on the shoulder.
“Okay,” he said. “You keep that pistol I’ve noticed has been bulging out of your jacket pocket. I’ll take my rifle.
And I promise you I won’t kill the son of a bitch unless it comes to downright self-defense. No other choice.” He held out his hand. Leaphorn shook it.
“Now,” he said. “We get out.”
They did, quickly, and Leaphorn handed Delonie the rifle over the hood of the truck.
“Noticed you handed it butt first,” Delonie said. “I appreciated that.”
“Just good manners,” Leaphorn said.
20
The place they found as their lookout point was in an outcropping of granite slabs where a healthy growth of Forestieria and willow had developed. Besides the camouflage, it also had a deep layer of decayed pine needles and aspen leaves, providing something to sit upon. They had concluded that the hunting blind this cabin served would be off to their right, probably up the ridge line less than a mile distant. There the slope was higher and more heavily forested with Ponderosa and fir, and it would look almost directly down on the stream they had been following.
From their own location, they would be looking down on a hunter returning to the cabin from the blind with his approaches pretty well covered. Pretty well, Leaphorn thought, but not perfect. If the man they were awaiting knew they were here, he would probably be smart enough to find a way to avoid them.
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