He looked at John, then said to her, “My grandfather’s not doing well.”
John said, “They have him in the hospital at Ruidoso. He wants Randall to come.”
“You’re going, right?”
“As soon as I get a few things arranged here.”
“What’s wrong with him, did he have an accident?”
“I’m not sure. My cousin, Jeffrey Chee, found him unconscious up near Whitetail.”
“Where’s that?”
“On the Mescalero Reservation. It’s high up, about eight thousand feet, and where the Chiricahuas and Warm Springs Apaches lived when they first came to the Reservation from Fort Sill. Even used to be a small school there, but it’s mostly empty now.”
“Any idea why he was there?”
“Jeffrey said grandfather was near the old school, and when he came to, he asked where Dahteste was.”
Hunter looked at John, who said, “Dahteste was a Warm Springs Apache from the old days. She was highly respected by both the Apache and the soldiers. She was a warrior, scout, interpreter, and mediator, and lived to be ninety-five. Randall’s grandfather was close to her. She was, with Lozen, considered something of a seer, too. ”
Randall said, “Whatever’s going on with Grandfather out there on the rez, I need to be there.”
They talked later into the night, until Hunter said, “I’m headed to the hotel. See you guys tomorrow.”
Randall said, “I’m flying out early. But I’ll be back soon. Don’t you two eat all my mangos while I’m gone.”
Hunter went to sleep as soon as she got in bed, but her dreams were visited by old nightmares.
~*~
Andre was waiting for her at the office and had two cups of coffee on the table. He sipped his coffee and said, “I tapped into some friends last night.”
“And?”
“The shipping company on Dessaline’s copy, the one that ferried that stuff to Caribe? It folded a year ago.”
“How nice for us.”
It’s not all bad. The name Jean Claude came up. And the name of the ship: La Sirine.”
“Does that mean, The Siren?”
“Close enough, The Siren of the Seas. It is also a loa, a spirit.”
“And the name came up?”
“It did.” Andre grinned.
Hunter sat straighter. “Hey, don’t hold me in suspense. I’m not known for my patience. I couldn’t even sit still in my elementary school classes.”
“Jean Claude Villard. I ran him through every database we have, and through some others with help from friends.”
“Its good to have friends.”
Andre grinned, “Sure is. Jean Claude is, as far as anyone can tell, still in South Florida. So, somewhere in the middle of six million or so people. Piece of cake, I figure.”
“Bingo.” Hunter said as she sipped coffee.