“It will all work out,” Valentine told him.
Karl Junior did not look so sure. He took another bite of apple and watched him leave.
Chapter 41
Running Bear escorted Mabel to her car in the parking lot. As Mabel fished her keys from her purse, she noticed that her car had shrunk by several inches.
“Oh no,” she said.
Her tires had been slashed. Running Bear inspected the damage with an unhappy look on his face. He said the casino would pay to have them replaced, then pointed at a truck parked nearby. It was a Chevy pick-up with bumpers so dented they looked deformed. “Let me give you a lift,” he said.
Within minutes they were speeding south on 275 toward Mabel’s home in Palm Harbor. Mabel didn’t know what to make of Running Bear. The chief was responsible for native Americans getting casinos on their reservations — he’d taken it to the Supreme Court, and won — and had raised the standard of living for hundreds of tribes, including his own. Yet, none of that showed in the things he owned, or the clothes he wore.
“Who do you think slashed my tires?” she asked.
“Our crooked dealer has several relatives employed by the casino,” Running Bear replied. “It was probably one of them.”
“Am I safe?”
Running Bear grimaced. “I will protect you, if that’s what you mean.”
He drove with one eye in his mirror. Mabel tried a couple of stabs at polite conversation and got nowhere . It was like they’d run out of things to discuss.
She found herself staring at the chief’s hands resting on the wheel. They were covered with hair and quite gnarly. The right one was missing its third finger.
“Did you lose your finger in Vietnam?”
“Gator,” he said, getting off I-275 and heading west on Highway 60.
“An alligator bit it off?”
“Yes. I was wrestling an alligator for some tourists about thirty years ago, and a woman in the crowd yells out, ‘Smile for the camera, will you?’ I lifted my head like a jackass, and the next thing you know, my finger gets bitten off.”
“That must have hurt.”
“Only for a couple of days. I wore it around my neck for a while.”
Mabel turned sideways in her seat. “Wore whataround your neck?”
He glanced her way, smiled.
“Not the gator?” she asked.
Running Bear grinned like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said to him. “Gator was twelve feet long and weighed three hundred pounds.”
“So, what did you wear?”
“My finger.”
She started to bring her hand to her mouth, then caught herself in the act.
“Why, pray tell, did you do that?”
“That’s a good question,” he said. “I was a dang fool back then. I think I was also trying to impress a girl I liked.”
“Did she fall for it?”
“No, she ran like hell.”
Mabel’s street in Palm Harbor was lined with New England-style clapboard houses that looked the same as they had a half-century ago. Running Bear eased the truck up the gravel driveway and killed the engine. They listened to the engine sputter and whirr. Then the chief climbed out.
“I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared around the side of the house. Mabel rolled her window down, and listened to his footsteps. He was about six-four and easily weighed two hundred and thirty pounds, yet his feet were as light as a squirrel’s. If she ever got to know him better, she was going to ask him how he did that.
Running Bear returned a minute later and got behind the wheel. The only light was coming off a corner streetlight, and Mabel looked at his profile and tried to read his thoughts. “All safe?” she asked.
“All safe. Do you have any protection inside your house?”
“I have a gun, which Tony has taught me how to use,” Mabel said. “He takes me to a gun range twice a week, and makes me practice.”
“Tony is a wise man.”
“Yes, he is.”
Running Bear watched a car pass on the street. Only when it was gone did he get out of the car, and escort Mabel to her front door. Going inside, Mabel turned several house lights on, then returned to the stoop.
“Thank you for driving me home.”
“My pleasure. I will call you, and let you know how this works out, if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much, chief.”
Running Bear hesitated. Standing beneath the moth-encrusted porch light with his hat in his hand, the chief wore a pained expression on his face, like there was something that he wished to say, but didn’t know how to say it. Embarrassed, he walked to his truck, and got in.
Mabel watched the truck drive away, its headlights swallowed up in the darkness. What was that all about?Closing the door, she started to throw the deadbolt when a hand clasped her throat from behind.
Judo meant the gentle way in Japanese. But it wasn’t gentle at all, the moves it taught designed to break bones and destroy joints. Mabel had learned that in the first judo class she’d ever taken, and never forgotten it.
She drove her elbow into her attacker’s solar plexis, and heard a sharp gasp. Then she stomped on her attacker’s instep, and heard another gasp. Throwing herself at the door, she grabbed the handle and attempted to jerk it open. Her attacker grabbed her by the shoulders, and she let out a scream.
“Shut up, old woman,” her attacker said.
That really made Mabel mad. Just because she was a member of AARP didn’t make her easy prey. Spinning around, she poked her attacker in the eye.
“Take that!”
“Ohhh!”
Momentarily blinded, her attacker staggered backward. He was native American, about six-two and heavy, with greasy, shoulder-length black hair and a face scarred by acne. Mabel guessed this was one of the crooked dealer’s relatives that Running Bear had warned her about. She ran to the door, and saw it open on its own.
Running Bear stepped into the house. He was barefoot, and wore a blank expression. He put himself between Mabel, and her attacker, then planted his feet.
“Hello Silver Fox,” he said.
Silver Fox grabbed a vase of flowers off a shelf and came at Running Bear. The chief’s right foot flew into the air, and kicked Silver Fox in the temple. Silver Fox’s head snapped sideways, and he crumbled to the floor in a heap, and did not move.
“Holy cow,” Mabel said.
Running Bear knelt down, and lifted up one of Silver Fox’s eyelids. He was out cold. The chief glanced up at her.
“I saw his car parked at the street’s end,” he explained.
“I’m glad you’re so observant,” Mabel said.
“So am I.”
The chief stood up and let out an exasperated breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your boss is going to kill me when he hears about this,” Running Bear said.
Mabel swallowed the lump rising in her throat. The chief had risked his life to save hers. She could wait her whole life, and not find a man like this. She grabbed the chief by the sleeve, and pulled him close to her. He did not resist as she put his arms around his waist, and brought her face up within a few inches of his.
“Let’s not tell him,” she said.
Chapter 42
Garrow was nearly dead by the time the Reno police broke down his front door.
Garrow lived in a fancy gated community with a guard at the front. His house had the best security system money could buy. Neither of those things had stopped Bronco from getting on the grounds and breaking into the house. He’d tied his attorney to a chair, and beaten him to a pulp.
Garrow was cut free, and laid on the floor with a pillow placed beneath his head. Bill called for EMS on his cell phone.
“I want to talk to him,” Valentine said.
“I don’t think he can talk,” Bill replied.
“He’s a lawyer. He’ll be talking five minutes after he’s dead.”