Crow Agency. âDamn you, Tanno. Spell this guyâs name again.â * * * âDo you really think the journal could be that important?â Willie pinched snuff into his lower lip, carefully stuffing less Copenhagen in than when heâd pinched from Stumperâs can. âWith everything else of value up for auction, someone could have taken many things of great value.â âA journal of one of Custerâs scouts? Thatâd bring megabucks.â âItâll be next to impossible to off the journal in the black market.â The strong tobacco odor brought up urges and Manny rolled the window down. âThe thief could have taken any number of other items that hadnât the publicity the Star Dancer journal had.â Willie stuck the car in gear and started out of the parking lot of the Justice Building. âUnless theft for sale wasnât the motive. Brings us back to that blackmail theory.â Willie stopped and turned to face Manny. âStumper never saw the journal. He assumed Harlan had it in that cedar box. Thereâs the possibility that Harlan sold it sometime yesterday before he left for the reenactment.â âSo you think Harlan stole the journal, sold it, and was going to claim that someone came in and lifted it during the show?â Willie raised an eyebrow. âRemember Stumper said Harlan was paranoid, built his auction house on a dead-end street so he could better monitor people coming.â âGo on.â âIf he was so paranoid, why didnât he fix his alarm system? Why didnât he repair the broken window in the spare room? Iâm thinking he didnât because he wanted to point to those places as a way a thief could gain entry unnoticed.â Manny smiled, proud that Willie was working things out on his own. Just one more step toward his becoming a top investigator. âOr maybe the journalâs a diversion.â Manny fumbled with Willieâs iPod, which heâd wired into Mannyâs car as a condition of going on vacation together. Willie reached over and hit the power and Creedence Clearwater Revival faded away. âMaybe Harlan was into something else, and the disappearance of the journal is just a diversion.â âDonât get more of a diversion than getting killed.â Willie nodded. âI guess we can assume Harlan wasnât counting on that.â âYouâre talking us right into an extended stay on Crow Agency.â Willie slipped his Ray-Bans on. âIâm just spouting shit here. Iâm sure by tonight weâll close this as a tragic accident, then Stumper and the BIA can worry about what became of the journal.â They took the I-90 Hardin exit and pulled in to the Custerâs Revenge Motel. Willie stopped in front of a faux hitching rail replete with rusty horseshoes nailed to the weathered top rail. Manny started to get out, but Willie made no move to shut the car off. âYou staying out here?â âThe less time I got to spend in that place the better.â He nodded to their motel room. âThatâs the last time I let you book a room.â âWhat?â âWhat do you mean âwhatâ? Did you think a motel by the name of Custerâs Revenge would be Indian-friendly? The last time I looked, we were still Indians.â âThe staff is friendly enough . . .â âBut lazy as hell. The lights donât work half the time, and that bathroomâs a nightmare. That crack in the toilet seat pinched my butt last night and I thought itâd never let go.â Manny laughed. âYou could have yelled a little softer. You woke me up.â Willie shook his head. âCusterâs Revenge. By the looks of the place, weâre the only business the place has had all year. Custerâs Revenge.â âCould have been called Montezumaâs Revenge.â âThatâs all I need, a