TEMPLARS QUEST: LUCEM SANCTAM (THE TEMPLARS QUEST CHRONICLES: A Historical Mystery Book 3) (3 page)

“Yeah. Do you know who they are?”

“Hell no, but I think they’re nomads.”

“Who can we speak to over in Dilkon City?”

“Stop at Dilkon Market and talk to Charlie Wilson. He’s the owner, and if anyone knows anything about these men, Charlie does. He’s a nosey old coot.”

“Thanks for your help, Mr. Two Times. We have to get going.”

“I hope you find your grandson and kill the dirty bastards. That’s why I stand guard here. You never know who could come around.”

Turning to walk away, I noticed that White Feather was still talking to Jimmy. I reached my truck and yelled, “White Feather, we gotta go!”

White Feather ignored my shout and kept talking to Jimmy. I shouted again but he didn’t reply. After a minute or so I walked back to both of them. “White Feather, what are you doing? Let’s go.”

“Jack, I will stay here with Jimmy tonight. Tomorrow I will go to the Hopi Nation to see my wife and children.”

“I didn’t know you had a wife and kids.”

“You did not ask me. I have not seen them for six months.”

His story kind of made me feel his pain, but I had my own pain. “White Feather, you were with Adam when he was kidnapped. You escaped leaving him alone with the bandits. So, in my opinion, you’re responsible and need to help us.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot be of further help. I wish you good luck and hope Adam is safe.”

Now I had a real dilemma. If I make him come along by force it might not be acceptable to his friend, Jimmy. He could try to protect White Feather, which could develop into a gun fight with the man who just helped us. I stood there for a few minutes contemplating what to do.

Neither of them said a word as Black Horse came over to join the conversation. “Hello, I am Black Horse, of the Comanche Tribe.” Jimmy shook his hand and introduced himself.

“What’s the problem, White Feather?” Black Horse asked.

“I told Jack that I will not go with you. I need to go home to my family.”

“That is not a good, White Feather. Jack Gunn needs your help and experience to find his grandson. Remember he found my son, Billy, and brought him to me. So we owe him a big debt.”

This is what really transpired when I first met Billy, the son of Black Horse. About a month ago, we were going through Indianola, Mississippi on our way to the Comanche Nation. We had a run-in with the self-made Mayor, David Ragsdale, who was a crook. Maggie and I suspected that the friendly Ragsdale was up to no good. So, I asked Billy, then known as Billy Bob, the son of Ragsdale, what was going on? He seemed like as person I could trust.

Billy told us, “If I tell y’all the truth of what’s going on you gotta promise to take me with you. If you don’t, Ragsdale will kill me for sure. Y’all promise?”

With hesitation I said, “Ok, it’s a deal. You can come with us.”             

Billy smiled and shook my hand, crushing it out of joy. “I don’t think Ragsdale is my real Daddy. I don’t know who my Daddy is, but I don’t look like Ragsdale. My mother was a whore who worked for Ragsdale. She was his favorite money-maker until she died, a long time ago.”

“So, what are you telling us?” Baldwin asked.

“Ragsdale owns a bunch of whores and has gambling games. Alice is his Madam who looks after the girls. Ragsdale isn’t the real Mayor either. Like I said, he’s the Boss Man. This town is under his control.” Billy turned his head and scanned his eyes around the park. “You see, only certain people get to carry guns. They work for Ragsdale. You gotta keep an eye on them boys.”

“So what does Ragsdale make you do?” I asked.

“I do all his dirty work.”

It seems that when Black Horse was a young man, he went to Indianola to find a job, fell in love with a girl, and had a kid. He returned to the Nation after four years, to take care of his sick Father. A couple of years passed by and he went back to Indianola a few times searching for his girlfriend and son but could not find them. Ragsdale had hidden them and used them as slaves, more or less. Black Horse gave up his search and returned to the Nation to become the Medicine Man for the tribe, after his father passed away.

We took Billy Bob to the Comanche Nation with us, and by accident, he met his real father, Black Horse. Black Horse had given his then four-year-old son a tattoo. It was a black horse, on his right arm, which was the same as Black Horse’s. That was the final proof that was needed to unite father and son, after I introduced them at the Comanche Nation. It was a great reunion.

“Black Horse, you owe him a big debt, not me,” White Feather replied.

“But you were with Adam when he was kidnapped. That makes you somewhat responsible,” Black Horse said.

“I have done my best to help. I can do nothing more. That is all I have to say.”

“You bring shame to me and the Comanche Tribe. In that case, do not come to visit my Tribe anymore. You are not welcome in our land.” Black Horse reached out, touching my arm. “Jack, let us leave this coward, who is no longer my friend.”

“Ok, let’s go,” I said. I knew from the first time I met White Feather that he was not trustworthy, just by the way he weakly shook my hand.

Before leaving, I told Maggie and Baldwin what was going on. They both agreed we didn’t need White Feather. We mounted up and headed for Dilkon, which was 15 miles away, at full speed.

Dilkon City, according to the information we have, had a population of around 1,100 people. That made it three times larger than Indian Wells. Dilkon is a Navajo name meaning smooth black rock. The name comes from the rock formations found around that area.

Arriving at the city, we located the Dilkon Market, a small general store, which probably sold everything you could think of. As I opened the door, a small bell hanging on it rang out, noting our entrance.

Baldwin, Maggie, and I walked in and were surprised at the amount of inventory and goods for sale. However, there weren’t any fresh fruits or vegetables. Almost everything was a can good of some type. They had ammo, guns, knives, and all types of mining gear for sale. One of the walls was lined with bottles of booze and cases of beer stacked in a cooler.

Walking over to the cooler, I grabbed three cases of beer and four bottles of Jack Daniels, placing them on the counter. An old man standing behind the counter was watching us like a hawk. He commented, “We only accept greenbacks or gold.”

I said, “We’ll pay in greenbacks.”

“You need anything else?”

“Maybe, let us look around a while.” I noted that Maggie and Baldwin were browsing around the aisles checking out the goods.

The old man asked, “Where y’all from?”

Peering into his dark, almost black-colored eyes, I could tell he was a Navajo. Navajos are a handsome looking people. I replied, “We’re from Florida. Are you Charlie Wilson?”

Wilson was at least 80 years old. He was a little short fat man who wore wire-rimmed glasses. He didn’t have any facial hair, but had long silver-black hair hanging down his back, tied in a braid. Charlie wore a white cowboy hat with an Eagle feather stuck in the hat band. 

“Who wants to know?”

“I’m Jack Gunn. Jimmy Two Times and White Feather told me to contact you.”

“Contact me for what?”

“Well, it’s a touchy situation, Mr. Wilson. We need some information.” I glanced around the store to make sure no one else was around.

Maggie and George came up to the counter with a cart full of canned fruits, Spam, and vegetables. I guessed they had about 100 cans of stuff. Maggie said, “We wanna buy these goods. We’re tired of eating MREs and could use a treat.”

“Ok,” I replied. “Mr. Wilson, ring us up.”

While Wilson was ringing us up he asked, “What kind of information do you want?”

Just as I was getting ready to tell him what we wanted to know when I heard the tiny bell ring, alerting us someone had just walked in the store. We turned to see who it was. He looked like a Navajo, but it was hard to tell because of the wide- brim straw hat he had on. He wore a pistol on his hip. As he walked toward us across the room, his cowboy boots clacked on the wooden floor. He was a man who walked with confidence. Then I saw the shiny star pinned on his chest. 

The Officer walked over to the counter and asked, “Charlie, everything ok here?” The Officer glared at us and our weapons.

Charlie said, “Yeah … everything is fine, Dan. These people are just buying some supplies.”

I peered back at Dan, looking him right in the eyes. He was a clean-shaving man, about five foot eight and a little overweight, maybe from eating to many donuts. He avoided eye contact and looked at the goods we were purchasing.

Dan said, “I’m the law around here. I assume those are your trucks with the machine guns. What brings you to Dilkon City?”

I replied, “We’re just passing through.”

“I hope so because we don’t want any trouble here. Where you headed to?”

“We’re headed to Flagstaff area looking for missing Army family members.”

“That’s good. Just keep on moving because this is Navajo country, and people get nervous seeing Army Humvees running around here.”

“Ok, we get your point. As soon as we load up these supplies we’ll be on our way.”

Lawman Dan didn’t say another word as he turned and left the store. The bell rang, signaling his departure. I commented, “He isn’t very friendly.”

Mr. Wilson said, “No, he isn’t. He thinks he’s the King around here, but he’s just the Captain of the Navajo Police in this area. Anyway, what do you want to know?”

Wilson handed me the bill for the supplies. I looked at it and each can was four bucks which totaled $450.00. One bottle of JD was $150.00. The beer came to $400. The grand total was $1,450.00. It was a little steep, but I didn’t complain about the price, because I really wanted some information.

As I counted out the greenbacks, I asked, “Have you seen four pickup trucks come by here today?” I laid the cash on the counter. “Here you go,” as I slid it over to him.

Wilson gave me a surprised look. “Why you wanna know that?” He asked, as he counted the money. 

I slid him an extra five hundred bucks. “They kidnapped my grandson yesterday and we’re after them.”

Wilson glanced at the pile of money and took it. “Yeah, they stopped in here about 9 am to buy supplies. I didn’t see any kid with them. They’re a strange bunch of ruff-neck nomads. I think they pay off the police to let them pass through Navajo land.”

“Can you tell us where these guys were going or where their hideout is?” I handed him another five hundred to entice him, which he took with some hesitation.

“I know these bad guys. They’ve been coming in here for about two years. White Feather used to hang out with them.”

“White Feather used to hang out with them?” I asked.

“Yep, that’s right, until he met a nice Hopi woman, got married, and started a family.”

“So, White Feather isn’t a real Hopi?”

“No. He’s not even an Indian, as far as I know.”

“I see, now I know why he didn’t wanna come here with us,” I commented.

“If the nomads find out I told you anything, they’ll kill me for sure,” old man Charlie said.

Baldwin said, “Don’t worry about them, Mr. Wilson. We have a small army that will deal with them.”

“Yeah, kidnapping means the death sentence where we come from,” I told him.

Charlie quickly glanced around the room as if someone was watching us. He leaned in super close to me and said, “I’ll tell you in one word. That’s all I’m gonna tell you.” He looked around the room again and I noticed his hands shook a little. I could tell he was afraid of these nomads.

“Ok. What’s the word?”

He replied in a whisper, “Wupatki.”

“Jack, do know what that means?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, I know what it is. Let’s go.” When I reached the door and opened it, the tiny bell rang. I stopped, glanced back at old Charlie, and raised my hand, giving half a wave. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Wilson. Have a great day.”

Stepping outside, we noticed two police cars parked across the street. They were watching us for sure. I told Baldwin let’s get out of town so we can study the map, without the cops watching us.

We left, heading west, but the cops dogged us for several miles, until they were finally convinced we were leaving. After the cops were out of sight we pulled over to the side of the road. Maggie handed out a beer to everyone and a can of Spam, along with some canned fruit. That was our lunch.

While eating, Maggie said, “How about that dirty rat White Feather.”

I replied, “He better pray that I don’t see him again. I knew something was funny about him.”

“But he did help us out by putting us in the right direction to find Adam.”

“Yeah, he probably knew I’d kill his ass if I found out about him. That’s the only reason he helped us. He wanted to get away from me.” 

Baldwin finally asked, “Ok, what does Wupatki mean?”

Maggie also asked, “Yeah, what the heck does it mean?”

I started to chuckle. “Wupatki means ‘Tall House’, in Hopi.”