Fatal Intent - Jamie Jeffries Page 0,81

young people she’d seen on the marches she’d attended. Most of the faces she saw were brown, and she began to shake as she walked through the crowd and they fell silent as she passed. They were condemning her for getting Dawn killed, and she didn’t blame them.

What seemed like an eternity passed by the time she got into the house. There, she found the crowd had separated by gender. Most of the people in the living room were men, while the women had gravitated toward the kitchen. That’s where she headed as well, finally finding Mrs. Redbird in the center of a knot of women, all of whom were crying. All except Mrs. Redbird. Alex went straight to her.

“Mrs. Redbird, I don’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t help but think this is my fault. I made her a target.” Alex started to cry again as she said the last. She closed her eyes to stem the tears leaking from them, and then felt arms go around her.

“This is not your fault, Alex. They’ve been out to harm us ever since we called them out for targeting our distant relatives on the other side of the border. Thank you for coming. You were a good friend to Dawn.”

Alex wept even harder for a few moments, and then struggled to control her emotions. If Dawn’s mother could be this strong, surely she could too. She stepped back to give someone else a chance to embrace Mrs. Redbird as she patted her eyes dry with a crumpled tissue.

When the other person had withdrawn, she said, “You’re very kind to say that, Mrs. Redbird. I still feel somehow responsible, and I’ll miss Dawn very much. I’ll carry on the fight against those monsters until every one of them is in jail. And I won’t let Dawn’s sacrifice be forgotten.”

Mrs. Redbird gave her a gentle smile. “Thank you, dear, but please be careful. Would you like to come to her memorial service?”

“Of course I would. You’ll let me know when?” Alex fished in her purse for a piece of paper on which to write her number.

“Your number is in Dawn’s phone,” said Mrs. Redbird, when she noticed Alex’s frustration. “Yes, I’ll call you. Won’t you stay awhile today? We’re going to have a meal soon.”

Alex looked around the crowded kitchen, where there was no room to cook and no apparent attempts. Mrs. Redbird laughed and then choked it off in a sob.

“They’ll be here soon. I can almost guarantee mutton stew, posole and fry bread. Please stay. I’d like to introduce you to some of the older members of our group. They’ll be excited to meet you. You have done more for our recruiting than we’ve ever seen before.”

“I have?” Alex questioned. “How?”

“When you started reporting on our cause, it was no longer just a Native issue. People took notice. Alex, you are a very persuasive advocate. Didn’t you know that?” Mrs. Redbird wiped away a tear. “Dawn rallied the Native students, but others joined in their last march before her accident. Even adults. Have you spoken to Jesse lately?”

Alex dropped her head. No, she hadn’t. She’d been so absorbed in her own issues that she hadn’t kept up with the activist group after Dawn’s accident. She didn’t deserve the praise Mrs. Redbird was giving her. Ashamed, she shook her head.

“He is leading the group now, arranging for the marches. They have doubled in size, and almost all the new members are whites. We have never felt so accepted. It’s because of you, and your passion for justice. Don’t ever lose that, Alex.”

“I won’t.” Even as Alex spoke, she remembered her commitment to Dylan only last night. How could she honor Dawn and her own beliefs, while still honoring Dylan’s need for her to be safe and not controversial?

Just then, a commotion came at them from the front of the house and the women around her began shuffling to make room for a veritable parade of other women bearing covered baskets releasing the familiar aroma of hot fry bread, pots of steaming soup or stew, and trays of fresh fruits and vegetables. The men from the living room followed them, as the women waited their turn. Mr. Redbird stepped out of the line when he saw Alex and came to give her a hug.

“Thank you for coming, Alex. You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?”

“How can I not? That fry bread smell is making my stomach growl!”

Alex spent the rest