Read Spider Woman's Daughter for Free Online Page B

in the parking lot. The search found no one hiding. He left his card with the manager in case anyone recalled something relevant, and allowed the store to reopen, to the relief of the staff and a dozen potential customers baking outside.
    At the front door, Chee stopped at an industrial-size trash can.
    “Hold the base while I get the top off,” he told Wheeler.
    Chee pulled gloves from his back pocket, put them on, and hoisted the lid. He looked inside. No gun, at least not on top. But he extracted a black hoodie.
    “I’m going to bag this.” He looked at Wheeler. “I want you to take the rest of this trash, just in case.”
    By the time Chee and Wheeler got back to the suspect blue sedan, the tow truck operator had attached the hooks and begun rolling the car up on the big flatbed. Mrs. Benally stood next to the driver.
    “Be careful,” she said. Several times.
    Chee asked Wheeler to update the captain.
    “Largo says no record on Gloria Benally. Nothing on Jackson Benally. He asked the gang unit to see if the shooting might be some sort of initiation ritual or something,” Wheeler said.
    “What description is on Jackson’s license?” Bernie asked.
    Wheeler gave her the details. “Black hair, dark brown eyes. Five foot eight, one-forty.”
    “What about the other kid, Nez?”
    “Nothing yet.”
    Mrs. Benally watched her car disappear down the highway, then walked over to them. Bernie introduced Chee, explaining that he was in charge of the Navajo side of the investigation.
    “We need to get your fingerprints,” he told her. “That way, we can make sure when the car is examined, they can sort them out from the bad person’s.”
    Mrs. Benally made a noise, something between a laugh and a snort. “Will you take my picture, too, with a number underneath?”
    Chee said, “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
    Bernie said, “Remember that we need your help to solve the crime. You are important to us.”
    Mrs. Benally sighed. “Let’s hurry up with all this. I want to get home.”
    While a technician took Mrs. Benally’s prints, Chee met with Captain Largo. Bernie came along.
    “There’s something odd about that car sitting there,” Largo said. “That guy should have been on the way to wherever—not parked outside Bashas’. The New Mexico State Police are looking for Jackson at UNM Gallup, where Mrs. Benally said he should be.”
    Largo turned to Bernie. “Gallup, right? Not the main campus?”
    “Right,” Bernie said. “From what Mrs. Benally told me, I don’t think Jackson did it. He enrolled at UNM on a Native Scholarship. Good grades, good recommendations. That doesn’t fit the mold for a guy in a gang.”
    “What mother doesn’t think her son is a little angel?” He looked at her again. “Did you find Louisa? Did you ask about the lieutenant’s relatives?”
    Bernie paused. “No. No Louisa yet. I could use some help finding her cell number. I left her a note and a voice mail on her home phone to call me.”
    Largo nodded.
    Chee said, “If Benally isn’t a gangbanger, what motive would he have for the shooting? Seems to me whoever did it must have had an accomplice with a second car. Or he’s hiding somewhere he could get to fast on foot.”
    Largo stood, walked to the window. Bernie noticed that the blowing dust had bruised the blue sky into a pale gray.
    “If it’s not a gang deal and not these guys, then we have more work.” Largo motioned toward a computer disc in his in-box. “Motive? These are Leaphorn’s last cases as a full-time detective with us, the ones he handled after the department was computerized. And a few on there are from after he retired, where we used him as a consultant. Some of these guys might have a motive.”
    Bernie knew what the “some” meant. Revenge was a bilagaana value, but some of these criminals had torn themselves away from the fabric of Diné life, lost their direction. Anger consumed them.
    Largo moved back to his deck, ran his fingers over