Looking Through Darkness (33 page)

Ambrose and Melvin had joined forces and were setting up at a table where their artistic skills could be seen and discussed by anyone who came inside.

Jo was at the front register, so Leigh Ann decided to sneak into the break room and take a quick look through the yearbook that coincided with the time of Melvin's accident.

She started with the oldest children, the fifth-graders. Leigh Ann looked at two classes and found five girls wearing glasses, but the only two who had slender faces weren't Navajo. One was black, the other was white, what locals called an Anglo. She flipped to the fourth-graders. Two had glasses, but they were light-colored frames and only one had long hair.

Leigh Ann wrote down her name anyway, and decided to look at the group photos in the front more closely, hoping to spot a girl with a braid. As she leafed through the pages, she found a listing for “late comers.” Among the photos there was one of a girl who fit Melvin's description almost perfectly—the hair, the braid, and the slender build. She was also a fifth-grader.

“Got you,” Leigh Ann said, quickly writing the girl's name on a sticky note.

“Meaning our mystery girl?” Ambrose said, stepping into the room.

“Look at the photo, then your sketch,” Leigh Ann said, pointing at the images. Ambrose did and smiled.

“Irene Largo. Hopefully, she still lives in the area.”

“The Largo name sounds familiar to me, but I'm not sure why,” Leigh Ann said.

“If she goes to Kirtland Central now, maybe Del knows her,” Ambrose said.

“I'll ask when he comes in,” she said.

Ambrose poured two cups of coffee. “When I take Melvin his cup, you want me to tell him you've got a hit?”

“Yeah, but remind him that all we've really got is a possibility. By the end of today, we may have found other girls who also fit the sketch,” Leigh Ann said.

“Good point.”

Hearing the office phone ring, Leigh Ann hurried down the hall to answer it. Jo, coming from the opposite direction, got to it first. “Hello. The Outpost. Josephine Buck speaking.”

Leigh Ann stood, wondering if this was
The Call.
Then she remembered that in the case of death or serious injury the army delivered that news in person.

“Yes, Lieutenant, this is Jo Buck,” Jo said quickly, her voice somber. “Have you heard anything more about Ben? I mean, Sergeant Stuart.”

Unable to hear the other side of the conversation, Leigh Ann held her breath and watched Jo.

“Yes, I understand. Do you have any idea when we'll know?” Jo asked, her voice shaky. “All right, then.”

Jo listened for a while longer, looked up and saw Leigh Ann, then with tears in her eyes managed a shrug. “No, no thanks. I'm staying right here where I can keep busy. You can reach me at the trading post, or on my cell. Call when you get news. “Yes … Bye.”

As Jo hung up, her shoulders sagged.

“Here, darling, let me hang on to you for a while,” Leigh Ann said, giving Jo a hug. She heard footsteps and turned to see Esther, Melvin, and Ambrose crowding into the doorway. Regina was right behind them.

Jo stood up straight and stepped back, wiping away her tears. “It's not necessarily bad news. The downed helicopter has been located, and appears to have crash-landed safely despite being damaged. The crew apparently abandoned the aircraft and sought cover. A rescue unit is on the ground and an operation is underway to neutralize enemy snipers before they bring in any more choppers. There's evidence from a surveillance drone that the crash survivors may have established a defensive perimeter around a cave, but other than that no more information is available.”

“Any idea when you'll know?” Ambrose asked.

Jo shook her head. “Several hours, maybe longer. The lieutenant said I could come and wait in his office at the Federal Building in Farmington, but I told him I'd rather be here working with you guys.”

“With family,” Esther said with a nod, and reached out to squeeze her hand. “We've been praying for Ben, and for you, and we're not going to stop now.”

“Thank you.” She looked from face to face, managed a smile, then looked out into the hall. “Who's managing the store? Let's get to work, people.”

 

— TWENTY —

It was close to 7:00
P.M.
when Leigh Ann drove up a narrow but paved street in a small housing development just east of Kirtland Central High School, along old Highway 64.

“Okay, we're here. The house number matches, so this is where Irene Largo lives, according to Del. I knew that name sounded familiar. Del dated one of the Largo girls a while back,” Leigh Ann said, pulling into the driveway of a modest stucco home with a metal roof and decorative window shutters. A light blue minivan was parked close to the door, and, as she stopped, someone parted a window curtain and looked out.

While Leigh Ann walked around to help Melvin out, the front door of the house opened and a Navajo woman in her mid-thirties came out onto the concrete stoop. “May I help you?” she asked, reaching out to grab a small child trying to squeeze past.

“Back inside, sweetie,” the woman said to the child. “Irene, could you take Amy?”

“Coming.” It was the voice of a teenage girl. Hearing it, Leigh Ann gave Melvin's hand a squeeze as he stepped out of the Jeep.

“Mrs. Largo? I'm Leigh Ann Vance, and this is my friend, Melvin Littlewater. We're the people Del Hudson called you about. Could we speak to you and your daughter Irene for a few minutes?”

Leigh Ann heard a gasp and turned to see a tall, slender Navajo girl with long black hair standing on the porch, her arms wrapped around the little one. She was staring at Melvin like she'd seen a ghost.

“Mom, it's him! He's the man I saw on top of the truck in the canal that night.”

*   *   *

Five minutes later, Melvin and Leigh Ann were seated on a love seat facing the sofa where Irene and her mom sat. In the middle was the little girl, who was clutching a stuffed dog and staring at the strangers.

“It was after dinner and dark outside, and I was walking home from Kathy's house, remember, Mom?” Irene said.

The woman nodded. “My old Chevy wouldn't start, so I was waiting for Irene's father to come home so we could go pick her up,” Mrs. Largo explained, then looked at her daughter, and added, “You should have stayed at Kathy's, like I told you.”

“I know, but I had that project to finish before I went to bed, and I'd walked along the ditch tons of times before,” Irene said.

“Never in the dark, alone, with no flashlight or cell phone,” her mother added.

“Okay, now I know better. Anyway, I was walking down the ditch bank and a truck drove past me on the highway. Then a car raced by, passing the truck like it was standing still. But the guy in the car cut back too soon and crashed right into the truck, knocking it off the road and into the canal. The guy in the car also lost control, flipped, and it went over the guardrail. It ended up in the canal, upside down and pinned up against one of those big floodgates. It was weird, because the headlights on the car were still on. I could see the truck floating down the ditch, too, about to smash into the car.”

Leigh Ann could see Irene's hands shaking. She could tell that Melvin's shoulders were rigid and tense. Leigh Ann put her hand on his arm, silently supporting him.

“That was you in the truck, right, Mr. Littlewater?”

“Yes. At least I wasn't upside down,” Melvin said.

“I was running toward the accident when I saw you climb out the window and up onto the roof of the truck's cab,” Irene said. “I tried to wade in, but the sides of the ditch were too steep.”

“You almost fell in,” he said.

“I wanted to help but I couldn't reach you,” she said, choking back a sob.

“It's okay Irene, you did everything you could. You were only what, ten or eleven?” Melvin said gently.

“She was eleven,” Mrs. Largo responded. “And when she couldn't find help, she turned around and ran home.”

“I could hear cars stopping to see what was going on, but because the headlights on the car that was in the water had gone out, I was afraid no one would spot you and you'd drown. I thought if I could get home in a hurry, Mom and Dad could do something.”

“When Irene ran up the driveway, my husband and I were already in our pickup, about to go looking for her,” Mrs. Largo said. “Irene jumped in, soaked to her knees, and told us about the accident. On the way there I called 911. I was told that the deputies and emergency personnel were already on the scene. Traffic was backed up ahead, so we turned around and came back home.”

Melvin nodded. “You never told the sheriffs' department that Irene had been there.”

“No, it was already over, and we wanted to keep her out of it. Later, we read in the newspaper that the driver of the car had drowned and that you, Mr. Littlewater, had survived but were blind.”

“I had nightmares about that accident for a long time,” Irene said in a shaky voice.

Mrs. Largo nodded. “She'd wake up screaming and crying. It took her almost a year to get back to normal.”

“I'm glad you made it and that you're okay, well, except for…” Irene stopped. “I'm sorry. That was really stupid.”

“Don't feel bad. I'm okay, and although I lost my sight, being blind has made me aware of things I might never have noticed otherwise.” Melvin squeezed Leigh Ann's hand. “We should go now.”

*   *   *

Leigh Ann drove in silence, looking over at Melvin from time to time. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the Largo home. She had been silent as well, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. Now he had closure, but she wasn't sure if that had brought him the peace he'd wanted.

“Are you okay?” she asked at last.

“Yes, for the first time in years, I am. Thank you for helping me close this door once and for all. Now I can finally move on.”

“My turn's coming soon, too, I feel it. Once the police find Pierre, I'll be able to breathe again.”

“Then it'll be our turn.”

She couldn't imagine life without Melvin. He completed her in ways no one ever had. If only she'd told him the other day when she'd finally learned about her role in his accident.

“Where are we off to now?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Before we head back to your place I want to make a stop at my house. I need to pick up a few more tops and slacks,” she said. “Don't worry, I'll be quick.”

“Just remember to stay alert. The danger's not over yet.”

*   *   *

Melvin was at the dining table, drinking one of Rachel's diet Cokes, when Leigh Ann came down the stairs with a small overnight case containing fresh clothing. “Let me change purses, then I'll be ready to go. I want my largest tote. It'll hold the .38 better, and until Pierre's caught, I want it handy.”

“My guess is he's on his way to Mexico by now, but you can't afford to get complacent.”

As she put the contents of her purse into her tote, she picked up her keys, then realizing she still had two spares for the old locks, decided to take them off the key chain.

“Sounds like you've got quite a collection of keys,” Melvin commented. “I only have one—my house key.”

“I usually carry the Outpost keys, the key to the Jeep, one to Rachel's car, your house key, and mine. The only important key I don't carry is the one that belonged to Kurt. That one's in the kitchen drawer with the flatware. No one would look there for it. I still haven't been able to figure out what it's for, but eventually I'm sure I will.”

“It doesn't fit the metal box you found in the attic, the one that almost got you shot?” Melvin asked, putting down his Coke.

“No. It was inside that box, though.”

“Describe the key to me.”

“It's small, about an inch and a half long, too small for a house lock or a car. It's also brass, not steel or aluminum, and had the number zero fifty-five on it.”

“Is it stamped, like a trunk key?”

“No. I know the kind you mean, but this is more upscale. Here, feel it,” she said, taking it out of the drawer and putting it in his hand.

“Hmmm. This is for a more expensive lock, maybe a drawer in a nice desk, or to a cabinet. It hasn't been used much because the notches are sharp. The lock is more complex, with the notches differently spaced from each other and there are three grooves, all in different places, two on one side, one on the other,” he said, handing it back to her. “Where did you try this key?”

“I tried it on everything I could think of here in the house, and a couple of places in the garage, but got nowhere. The locks out there are all the same kind, and this one is obviously for a different type.”

“Did Kurt spend a lot of time in the garage?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “There's a ring of keys just for his stuff out there, with numbers he etched on them that indicate which lock they fit. I keep it with the kitchen utensils. There's no number fifty-five out there either. They range from one to twenty.”

“This must fit something you haven't tried yet, then,” Melvin said. “Is it a fancy garage with lots of storage cabinets?”

“Yeah, it is. He practically lived out there.”

“Then the missing cash may be hidden there somewhere, too. Why don't we try to find another lock?”

“I've already checked, but okay,” she said, reaching for the garage key ring in the drawer with the spatula and other big utensils. “A treasure hunt is always more fun with a friend.”

“Arrgh, twice as much fun. You've got a pirate with a patch over both eyes,” Melvin said. They both laughed freely for the first time in days.

Taking his hand, Leigh Ann led Melvin into the two-car garage, which was extra roomy today with no vehicles inside. She began to flip switches to turn on the lights, explaining as she did. “There's an overhead fluorescent fixture out here, plus Kurt installed lamps over the wide counter that runs the length of the north wall. I sold his big table saw, drill press, and lathe when I needed money for some of the bills, but the garage is still full of man toys. Right now the counter holds power tools, like saws, drills, and a leaf blower. There's also a pegboard with hand tools hung on various hooks.”