Read Online Rock with Wings by Anne Hillerman - Free Book Online Page A

accent.
    â€œI need to ask you some questions. Don’t you folks know it’s illegal to camp here?” Chee waited for the response.
    â€œSorry. Can we pay you the fee?” A female voice.
    â€œIs that you, Melissa?” Chee said.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œCome on out here and talk to me. Both of you.”
    The tent rustled, and a gray-haired woman in shorts and a T-shirt emerged. “Heinrich is coming. He’s pulling on his shoes.” The woman took a few steps toward Chee. “My husband couldn’t find anywhere else to camp. We are doing no harm. We shall be gone by morning.”
    An elderly man with a potbelly emerged from the opening and stood next to the woman.
    â€œHeinrich Schwartz,” said the man after Chee introduced himself. “And this is Gisela.”
    â€œI’m looking for a lost person. A blond woman driving a red car, or maybe walking around taking photographs. Have you seen her?”
    â€œWe haven’t seen anybody,” Heinrich said. “Nobody but you.”
    The woman nodded. Chee thought she looked a bit like Louisa, Joe Leaphorn’s companion. He should call Louisa and find out how the Lieutenant was progressing.
    â€œHave you seen any vehicles tonight?”
    The man rubbed his scalp. “A truck with a trailer that stirred up dust. A motorcycle. One of those touring shuttle buses, empty. It made a lot of noise, too.”
    â€œAnd that little car with loud music,” Gisela added. “It was red.”
    â€œWhich way was the car headed?” Chee asked.
    The woman gestured with a pale arm. “It went by about an hour ago.”
    â€œDid you see it again after that? Or hear it?”
    â€œWe did not,” the man said. His w ’s sounded like v ’s.
    â€œWhere are you visiting from?”
    â€œWe live in Germany.”
    â€œBavaria,” the woman said.
    â€œGermany? Ma’am, from your English, I would have assumed you were American.”
    She nodded. “You’re right about that. I was born in the States, but I grew up in Germany and moved back there when I met this wonderful man. Finally I persuaded him to see the West, and now we’re in trouble.”
    â€œWe went to the camp across the highway,” the man said, “but it was full. We went to the campground in the park, but it was closed too. Where else can we go?”
    The couple looked tired. They stood in silence, backlit by the glow from inside their little tent. Chee looked at their neat campsite.
    â€œThe next closest camp ground is Navajo National Monument, on the way to Tuba City. But they might be full too, and that’s a long drive. Tell you what. You can stay here tonight if you promise you will pack up and move out first thing in the morning. And no more illegal camping. You understand?”
    Heinrich spoke quickly. “Yes, sir. We promise. You are kind. We will pay you the camping fee?”
    Chee shook his head. “You can buy something for your wife from the next vendor you see. Help the families who live out here. Welcome to Navajoland.”
    He could see Gisela relax. “My grandfather worked here back in the 1930s. He loved this place and the people.” She held out her arm. “I have this Indian bracelet he bought many years ago. He said it was made by a Navajo man.”
    Chee looked at the sand-cast silver. “That is beautiful.”
    â€œI’d like to get something like this for my daughter.”
    â€œIf you don’t find what you like out here, I have a relative who’s a jeweler, lives in Gallup. He might be able to come up with a copy for you.”
    The woman pulled a wallet from her pocket and gave him a business card. “That would be wonderful. He can use this e-mail.”
    Out of habit, Chee made a note of the husband’s name and the license number of their truck on the back of her card.
    â€œI hope you find the woman,” Gisela said. “I wouldn’t