Tainted Mountain (10 page)

Heather sat across from her. “Who's Berle?”

“Berle was my mother's second husband. I loved Berle. He was good to my mother. I think maybe she really loved him.”

Heather's confused gaze encouraged her to talk.

“Not long after Scott and I married, Berle got stomach cancer. I was finishing business school and had some nice offers. I was going to live in a plush high-rise condo in Chicago or L.A. and vacation on sunny beaches.”

Heather sat quietly, waiting for her to continue.

“But Berle went from alright to almost dead in less than two weeks. One of the last days, he begged me to promise I'd always take care of my mother. He had a fortune and it would all go to her but he worried. He said he owned this ski area in Flagstaff. Kachina Ski. He'd give it to me, free and clear, with the one caveat that if my mother ever needed financial help, Kachina would be her safety net.”

Heather's eyebrows drew together as she worked it out. “This must have been before the drought. I can see where that would be a good move.”

“I told him of course I would take care of my mother, but I didn't want a ski resort. I assumed I'd have a great career in finance.”

“But you ended up here.”

“When I told Scott about it, he latched on to the idea and couldn't see anything else. He was full of dreams of us running the place together and spending our days on the mountain. He wanted it so much, I couldn't say no.”

“But it didn't work out as you'd planned.”

She shrugged. “I was naïve to think Scott would enjoy the business side.”

“Your mother says he played and you worked.”

“It was more than that. I couldn't have done any of it if he hadn't been with me. Scott made me feel … ” she searched for the right words. Being Scott's wife made her feel special. If he loved her, she must have worth. Sheesh, it sounded so Abigail. But since Bimbo's appearance in their lives, she'd lost even that measure of confidence.

She shouldn't be talking like this to a teenager. Heather might seem mature and, well, like a friend, but this kind of sharing with a sixteen-year-old was inappropriate. Nora wiped her eyes. “Enough of this. Tell me something about you.”

Heather shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Why don't you tell me about what interests you?”

“Hopi.”

“Okay. Tell me about Hopi.”

Heather eyed her and began slowly, as if testing her. “On either end of Earth's axis, twin brothers sit and hold down the head of the serpent. They are the balance of the world. If they let go, Earth will tilt and there will be chaos. Hopi are responsible for keeping the brothers there.”

Nora nodded.

“Every Hopi belongs to a clan, sort of like families, and each clan performs ceremonies that together maintain balance of the natural forces. See, each of us has a good side and a bad side. Like an elder told me, ‘black and white threads wind together in our ceremonies.' So we have to balance our two selves to protect the world.”

“Hopi are in charge of the whole world?”

Heather's shiny black hair bounced to her nod. “We're the smallest tribe, but we have the biggest job.”

“Balance in life is important,” Nora said, wondering what it would feel like to be balanced. “Really, the
whole
world?”

“We do the ceremonies and that's what keeps the balance.”

Why not?
“So tell me about kachinas.”

“Kachinas are spirits. They aren't saints like Christians have or like the Greek gods. It's kind of weird. They can help people or cause problems or just sort of be there.”

Nora thought of the doll the old man had given her. What spirit did he contain?

Heather held Nora's eye. “Thanks for not laughing at this. Poppy won't listen. But your mom, she's great.”

“You're talking about Abigail? You told her this?”

“Yeah. She's really interested in it. I just picked up a bunch of library books to take to her.”

Could it be her mother's mind had expanded a notch or two since Nora was young?

Heather stiffened and her eyes hardened to flint at something behind Nora. “Douche bag.”

An oily voice floated over her shoulder. “If it isn't Ms. Abbott. Taking a break from destroying Mother Earth?”

Big Elk.

Nora ought to climb into her Jeep and just drive away, but her dander was running high. She rose to her feet and took a step toward Big Elk and his usual entourage of Guilty White People. “Face it: you lost, I won. Go pick another fight somewhere else.”

“The courts granted you permission to gut the Mother. But they aren't the ultimate law.” The followers murmured assent. He raised his voice in excitement. “The kachinas promised fire on the mountain if you continue your destructive path.”

Heather shifted her hips and crossed her arms. “Knock it off, Big Elk.”

Venom filled his eyes as they moved to Heather.

Nora jumped in to distract him from the girl. “Go ahead and send someone else to kill me. But snow making will happen. Kachina Ski has a partner now, McCreary Energy.”

Dismay washed across Big Elk's band, but his arrogance never wavered. “I haven't sent anyone to kill you, Ms. Abbott.”

“Don't bother lying to me.”

“Lying is the way of the white man. Native Americans don't hide behind falsehoods.”

Rage erupted in a fiery furnace. “Is that so? You haven't been behind all the vandalism and protests? You didn't send that Alex guy to murder me?”

Heather blew a disbelieving breath from behind her. “He wasn't going to kill you.”

Big Elk remained irritatingly calm. “You're the one spreading untruths, Ms. Abbott. Alex, our brother of the Hopi, went out to the sacred mountain to pray and offer gifts to the kachinas. When you attacked him, he had no choice but to defend himself.”

“Defend himself with his hands around my neck!”

“The Hopi value peace and he wouldn't react unless threatened.”

Unchecked words shot from her. “You and your bullshit! What do you know about any of this anyway? You're not even Native American.”

“My ancestors … ”

“Your ancestors were probably European farmers. You aren't any more Native American than I am. Where are your records, huh? You're not Sioux.”

He may or may not be indigenous, but Big Elk's face turned a violent red. “My people were with Dull Knife at Fort Robinson. I … ”

She stepped forward and pointed. “Yeah? No one up there knows you or your family. You're a fake.”

She'd gone too far.

She thought she felt hatred from him before, but that was mild displeasure compared to the noxious wave that came at her now. He looked at her with Charles Manson eyes. “You'll regret uttering those words. The kachinas protect their own.”

He turned slowly, his murderous eyes lingering on her.

Fifteen

Brooding again. Barrett leaned
back in his custom-made leather desk chair and gazed at Kachina Mountain.

McCreary Energy was one very profitable privately owned company. Thanks to Barrett the Third. But he wouldn't have had the opportunity if his grandfather hadn't planted the family in Northern Arizona and if Barrett's father hadn't seen the benefits of mining.

It's what McCreary's do. Grandfather started it. Father almost lost it but if he hadn't died young, he probably would have turned it around. I staunched the hemorrhage and turned it into a powerhouse. But I have to strengthen the family chain even more. Heather needs a company with wealth and a diversified position. McCreary Energy has to move into the future.

Uranium
.

Northern Arizona is the Saudi Arabia of uranium and that's Heather's future and my legacy. If I let this opportunity slide by, McCreary Energy will become a third-rate has-been and Heather will have nothing.

A lesser man might fold under the forces against him: Enviros hated the idea of mining close to the Grand Canyon. Those radical long-hairs wouldn't go away quietly. Native Americans feared uranium mining on their lands, and he didn't blame them; they'd suffered from the industry's earlier ignorance. But none suffered more than Barrett.

He grabbed the Rolaids from his desk drawer. Beneath the bottle, Ester and their children smiled at him from the Kodachrome memory. He slammed the drawer closed.

No, mining techniques had improved. That disaster would never happen again. He had to move forward. He owed it to Heather.
Forget the past, old man. Look ahead.

Like a cool breeze on the desert, the image of Abigail wafted
before his eyes. She had class and intelligence and a fine ass for a middle-aged gal. Maybe when this was all over they could get together.

Romance could wait. Right now, Abigail was good cover so he could keep an eye on Kachina Ski.

He'd like to get rid of Nora. Her balkiness over snow making irritated him. But it would look suspicious if Nora disappeared and for now, he had her under control. Her life expectancy would change, though, if she ever found out Scott was working for him.

Barrett sank back in his chair. Abigail was a fount of disturbing information at their lunch. For instance, Barrett learned about Scott's affair. Who knows what he told his floozy on the side. Another loose thread to take care of.

Dust on the road signaled an approaching car. He glanced at the clock. Right on time. That alone proved Big Elk was no real Indian, just a damned mercenary.

Big Elk's black Escalade, now dusted with dirt, braked in front of Barrett's house. He turned off the ignition and sat behind the wheel talking on the phone.

The irksome imposter drove the same vehicle as Barrett. Before he rose to answer the doorbell, Barrett sent a quick e-mail to his assistant at the office in Phoenix telling him to trade the Escalade for one of those Mercedes SUVs.

“Nice place,” Big Elk said when Barrett opened the door.

Barrett led him to the great room. “It's home. Drink?”

“Whiskey, straight up.”

Barrett poured two fingers and handed it to him.

Big Elk settled himself on the leather sofa. “What's on your mind?”

Barrett wanted business with this varmint concluded quickly. He stood by the window. “Stop influencing the Hopi council against uranium mining.”

Big Elk sighed. “The Hopi are a simple people. I'm merely a voice for them to the outside world.”

Barrett figured he knew more about the Hopi and cared more for them than Big Elk ever would. He knew what served their best interest. “Convince them of the benefits of mining.”

“I see no benefit to raping and mauling their pristine lands to satisfy your avaricious desire.”

It was a good thing for Big Elk that Barrett's gun rested in his desk drawer across the room. Too bad for Barrett the Rolaids sat in the same place. “The benefits of mining royalties to the Hopi are something I'm sure you can imagine. What's more important for
this
discussion is the benefit to Big Elk.”

Big Elk sat back with satisfaction. “Go on.”

“What's your price?”

Big Elk feigned shock, coming closer than he knew to a fist in his face. “This is about an ancient people's land and their right to sovereignty.”

Barrett waited.

“I can't say you're much fun to do business with.”

“I don't like you.”

Big Elk's eyebrows shot up. “Ouch.”

Again Barrett waited.

Big Elk stood. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet. “Two million. Deposited equally to these accounts.” He pulled out a handwritten note.

Barrett didn't move. “One.”

“With uranium selling at an all-time high and you panting after one of the world's largest deposits, you won't miss two million, my friend.”

“I'm not your friend.” Barrett let the clock tick. “One point five.”

Big Elk took a moment, as if weighing the decision. “And a warehouse in Flagstaff.”

“A warehouse? I won't be involved in drugs.”

Big Elk laughed. “Nor would I. I'll spare you the details but saving Mother Earth isn't the only game in town for this Indian.”

Barrett snatched the paper containing the bank accounts from Big Elk's hand.

Big Elk smiled. “I'll let myself out.”

“One other thing,” Barrett said. “Keep Alex Seweingyawma away from my daughter.”

An oily smile slid onto Big Elk's face. “I can't control the boy.”

“If I find out he's been anywhere near Heather, the deal is off and you're going to jail.”

Big Elk shrugged. “I'll do what I can to protect your innocent daughter. But understand this, Barrett: I have as much on you as you have on me.”

Barrett glared at Big Elk until the small man snorted with arrogance and sauntered toward the hall. Barrett craved a disinfectant shower. It sickened him the way Big Elk had no principles, no loyalties. He might do some shady things himself, but at least everything he did was for family.

Big Elk tossed off words over his shoulder. “You don't have any attachment to Nora Abbott, do you?”

Barrett waited in silence while Big Elk faced him.

“I've heard she's accident prone,” Big Elk said.

An accident, such as a fall from a cliff? Maybe a malfunctioning Jeep engine? The lodge apartment ran on propane and those pesky fuel bottles could blow under heat or pressure. It would be nice to have the Nora Abbott problem eliminated …

Barrett bent to pick up the empty whiskey glass so Big Elk wouldn't see his smile. Good. Just let Big Elk take care of her.

The front door opened and closed as Big Elk left.

Barrett headed to the kitchen and realized he hadn't heard Big Elk drive off. One glance out the window made his veins fill with ice.

Heather stood next to Big Elk's Escalade. Damn it. She said she'd be gone all day riding her horse and here she stood, talking to Big Elk. Heather seemed to have a talent for finding trouble these days. Maybe Barrett should install a tracking chip under her skin.

Heather's eyebrows drew together the way they did when she made a serious point.

Barrett stomped onto the front porch. “Heather.”

She jumped and turned toward the house, not finishing her sentence.

“Come inside now.” Barrett glared at Big Elk while Heather stomped up the stairs and into the house.

If Big Elk didn't stay away from Heather, he might make Barrett truly angry.