and get me if I can help.” Adakai started to leave, then hesitated. “I heard about Mr. Natachi getting shot. Do you know how he’s doing?”
“He’s at the hospital now. Is the gentleman a friend of yours?”
“I remember him from when I was a kid and he’d visit our school to see his granddaughter, Ryana. The teacher might get him to teach us a little Navajo, tell a story, you know? I met him again when he came in to file the burglary report. He still knew my name.”
“Well, Mr. Natachi got his bolo back.”
“No kidding?” Adakai’s eyes widened. “How did that happen?”
Chee told the story.
“Did the police find the guy who was trying to sell it?”
“We’re working on it. What do you know about the gentleman’s granddaughter?”
“Let’s see.” Adakai picked up a pencil from the desktop and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “Ryana grew up here, but her family originally was from the Toadlena area. Her mom and dad both worked for the tribe. She went to Phoenix after she graduated from high school.” He stopped. “You wanna hear stuff like that?”
“Whatever you’ve got. Her aunt lives near my wife’s mother’s place. I’m curious about her.”
“So, when her parents retired, they bought an RV. They’re traveling, seeing the country for a year or two. Cool, huh? Ryana came back to take care of their house and to be with her grandfather.
“Evidently Ryana hit a rough spot in Phoenix. Drugs, booze, whatever.” Adakai paused. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard, OK?”
“Sure thing.”
“When she came back, she looked up some of her old friends here and someone helped her get that job at the senior center. That must have been about twelve months ago.” Adakai tapped the pencil’s eraser against the desk. “Have you met her?”
“Yes. I talked to her this morning when I went out to interview her grandfather about the robbery. She’s certainly a beautiful woman. What did she do in Phoenix?”
Adakai hesitated. “She claims that she did some movie work.”
“She’s pretty enough to be an actress. Are you two friends?”
“Acquaintances. When she got back here, I asked her out a couple of times, but she decided I wasn’t her type.”
Chee waited, but Adakai didn’t offer any stories.
“Ryana says her grandfather’s burglary never happened and claims he’s getting forgetful. But the old man seemed sharp to my wife, and she’s familiar with old folks. And then Ryana blamed a man who is in prison for shooting him. I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s up with her. What do you think? Is she telling tales?”
Adakai rolled the pencil down to his palm and then back to his fingertips.
Chee said, “This is just between us.”
“Well, even in high school, Ryana went for the bad boys, left us nice guys in the dust. Right after graduation, she got serious with an older dude who moved here from Nevada. His wife showed up, kicked Ryana out, and made a big stink. Everyone in town knew about it. Mr. Nevada went home, and that’s when Ryana moved to Phoenix.
“When she came back, like I said, I tried to befriend her, ask her out to dinner, but she had that attitude. I hear she’s with some weird white dude now. They say he got busted in Fresno, but there was some problem with the evidence. All this is just rumor anyway.” A phone rang in the other room and Adakai looked toward the noise. “That’s about it. I gotta catch that call.”
“What’s the boyfriend’s name?”
“Something like Micky, Nicky, Ricky.”
“Thanks. And thanks for bringing those cookies.”
Chee filed the information away and turned back to the computer. He wasn’t optimistic. From his training, he knew that burglars hit more than 2.5 million homes each year in the United States, and police solved fewer than 15 percent of the cases. He opened an electronic report. A handful of the Chinle victims had included copies of the receipts for their televisions or computers, paperwork that would make it easier for police to return the items if they were ever found. Some of the reports had pictures of the stolen jewelry, usually with someone wearing it. The most recent burglary had occurred six days ago. Chee studied the picture of an elderly woman wearing a squash blossom necklace, an outstanding combination of silver, turquoise, and good design, easy to identify if it turned up at a flea market or online. He glanced at some of the scans of victims’ handwritten descriptions of the items, most