Read Online Murder at Medicine Lodge by Mardi Oakley Medawar - Free Book Online Page B

devices. A bad taste instinctively tells a person to spit out whatever they happen to be chewing, that the bad taste means something is poisonous to the body. The sense of smell detects the acrid odor of smoke, a sense vital to those living in a country of grass where fires are known to flash start. Nothing can stop a prairie fire once it flares to life. Man and animals can only get out of its way, and they must do this long before the fire is seen, Skywalker’s inability to smell such danger left him subtly dependent on others. Skywalker abhorred being dependent. Even subtly.
    Then again, during that autumn when we were at Medicine Lodge, there were a lot of things Skywalker despised. By his surly manner, it was becoming more and more apparent that I was one of those things. Something was going on between us, something I didn’t understand, and until he felt ready to share the problem, I was treated not like a friend, but as someone he didn’t care to know. When he spoke to me, he snapped, he ordered.
    Ordinarily this attitude would have hurt me deeply. On that day, it simply made me mad, for there I was, gagging on account of that putrefying body while he spoke in a demeaning manner, thoroughly unfazed by Buug-lah’s whiffy remains. While we were thus engaged, The Cheyenne Robber was putting his tracking skills to good use, looking for any type of sign.
    Skywalker looked back at him while I annoyingly brushed flies away from my eyes. “What do you see?”
    The Cheyenne Robber circled the area, confusion marring his features. “I can’t find anything in this grass.” Then he yelped. “Wait! Here’s something.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    The Cheyenne Robber stood to his full height, shook his head. “It looks like a deep cut.”
    Skywalker rose and went to join his brother. Studying the mark, they remained unnaturally quiet. “It’s the heel of a boot,” Skywalker said. Squatting down, he placed his hand just above the mark.
    â€œAnything?” The Cheyenne Robber quizzed.
    Skywalker’s hand became a fist. “Nothing. Too much time has passed. No images are coming to me.” Raising his head he declared, “It would seem our one hope is Tay-bodal.”
    Nervously I cleared my throat. “I—I need help. I ask for Hawwy.”
    His eyes narrowing, Skywalker simply stared at me. I hated it when he got like that. His silences always made me feel defensive. Feeling a degree of malice in that stare, I felt extremely defensive.
    â€œHawwy is a doctor too,” I said, hating the nervous edge in my tone.
    Skywalker still said not a word. His mouth slowly compressing into a tight line. All right, I thought, if he wants to be mad at me, then he should be that in a better time and place. Steeling my nerve, I said more forcibly, “Hawwy is a fair person. We are lucky to have him. And as we do have him, we should use him.”
    â€œTay-bodal’s right,” Hears The Wolf said.
    Skywalker turned his silent tactic on Hears The Wolf. I was glad to see that he responded to it no better than I, but as Hears The Wolf was Lone Wolf’s chosen leader of this little expedition, he didn’t have time to worry about Skywalker’s apparent displeasure. Lifting his chin in Hawwy’s direction, he shouted, “Hawwy wants to help. Look at his face!”
    Skywalker’s gaze traveled sluggishly toward Ha-we-sun. His hands still raised even with his head, Hawwy was looking at the body on the ground with a concentrated expression. Skywalker stood and went over to where Hawwy was, stood right in front of him but spoke to Billy, keeping his voice low and even.
    â€œI know you understand the problem of our finding that man dead. Tay-bodal says he needs Hawwy’s help. I think you should take time to explain to him just how important his complete cooperation will be.”
    Even though his face was partially obscured by the wide brim of