Read Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 for Free Online Page A

are separated from our school, our houses, and the ceremonies aren’t part of the tour.”
    “Did Ben live there?”
    “Not at fi rst, he lived on the Navajo reservation about 100 miles south. He’d come to Arizona specifi -
    cally to see how the Navajo Casinos were run. But after a couple of months he tired of the politics and stuff and was interested in how our Hopi leaders are able to sustain our tribe’s treasury without gaming. He moved in with my uncle.”
    My cigarette froze halfway to my mouth. “Without gaming? But I thought there were tons of Indian casinos 44

    in Arizona?”
    Abita nodded. “Th
    ere are. However, our tribe is
    not part of the other Arizona tribes who have a gambling compact with the state. We’re a bit of an anomaly. Bit of a throwback to the ‘old ways.’ Some of our members don’t even have electricity.”
    Working with the Navajo? Th
    en living with the
    Hopi? Ben hadn’t told me why he’d gone to Arizona. His lack of disclosure about that part of his life still hurt me.
    I squeezed my eyes shut. Would I ever be able to think of Ben and not associate it with pain?
    Metal chair legs screeched on the linoleum. I sensed Kevin in front of me. “You okay?”
    I shook my head.
    “Let me have this before you light yourself on fi re.”
    He removed the cigarette from between my fi ngers. I’d forgotten it was even there.
    Abita said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go. I’m sorry.”
    I opened my eyes and leaned sideways around Kevin’s to look at her. “Don’t go. I’ve tried for years to get any kind of information on Ben. Now you’re here . . .”
    My voice cracked.
    “I’ll just go check on Jericho.” Abita scooted from the kitchen.
    “You’re starting to hyperventilate, babe. Calm 45

    down. She’ll tell you what you want to know. But you won’t learn a damn thing if you’re passed out on the fl oor.” He grabbed the bottle of Don Julio.
    Whoo-yeah. Sanity in a jug.
    Kevin poured a generous amount of silver liquid in my empty mug and handed it to me.
    I knocked it back. Not the best way to drink $100
    tequila. But the smooth fi re blended surprisingly well with the chocolate.
    Abita probably thought I was some kind of freak.
    But as long as she told me every detail about the last months of Ben’s life, I honestly didn’t care what she thought of me.
    “Everything all right?” she asked, hovering in the doorway.
    “Fine,” Kevin answered. “Julie just needed a break.
    Go ahead and fi nish what you were telling us.”
    She returned to her chair. “I don’t remember where I was.”
    A laugh track blared from the living room. She gave the wall a narrow-eyed look, as if she could see through the sheetrock.
    “What Ben was doing in your village,” Kevin prompted.
    “Oh. He mostly tagged along with my Uncle Wen-dell. Th
    ey were always going on about boring business stuff , mostly about what he’d been doing working in 46

    some new casino outside Big Pine. Th
    at Navajo tribe has
    bingo and a Class 3 Gaming license, but it is a commute from our village.”
    From working with our biggest client, Greater Dakota Gaming, I knew Class 3 Gaming meant slot machines on the premises, as well as dog and horse betting.
    “You know what I don’t get?” Kevin looked as if he’d been mulling everything over. “Ben hadn’t been involved with any of the tribal casinos around here. Seems a strange career direction for him.”
    “Th
    at’s not entirely true,” Abita said. “Some tribal organization back here had sent him to Arizona to learn the casino business from the inside; that’s why he was working in the Navajo casino.”
    Another piece of news I hadn’t known. “What tribal organization?”
    “I don’t know if he told me. At any rate, I really don’t remember. When we were together, we didn’t talk about casino stuff .” She blushed.
    “What did you talk about?”
    She blushed harder. “Everything. Nothing. He’d come in and watch me weave. We