I Am Called Shaman. Rebecca Reeves

do they live?” I asked.

      “Sonja lived up here, but her family is in Phoenix,” she said. “They’re driving up in the morning.”

      My heart went out to the Urban family. Tomorrow would be the second worst day of their lives. They’d have to identify their daughter’s body then face the additional horror of going to her home. An unmade bed, a coffee mug in the sink, unopened mail on the counter; all the things that would scream of a life interrupted.

      “I was about to sit down for dinner,” Pema said. “Would you like to join me?”

      “No, thank you. I just wanted to check on the dog. Duffy.”

      Pema opened the door to her living quarters then turned back to me. It always felt as if she could look into my soul and see all the things about myself that I tried to hide, but, if she did, she never seemed offended by my secrets.

      “Stay as long as you’d like,” Pema said. “Just lock up when you go.”

      As soon as the door clicked shut, I pulled the baggie out of my pocket. “Duffy?” I waited for him to open his eyes. “Baby, I need you to sniff this and tell me if you recognize the smell. Okay?”

      He lifted his head and stuck his nose in the bag.

      I braced myself for a revelation.

      Duffy took a few halfhearted whiffs and laid his head back down.

      “Sundara.” I held the bag under her nose. “What do you smell?”

      The SK’s hide. Schnebly Hill Road. The clearing where the trail ended.

      I sealed up the bag. There was plenty of scent in there. The anesthesia was interfering with his olfactory senses. I’d have to try this again tomorrow.

      “That’s okay, Duffy,” I whispered. “You just rest. Your family will be here in a little while.”

      He was already dozing off. I leaned down to kiss him and caught a glimpse of his dream.

      His girl. Sonja. Sitting Indian style beside the campfire. He leaned against her while she hummed a tune. She smiled down at him, her eyes full of utter love and joy. She said, I love you, before leaning down to kiss his head.

      6:55 p.m.

      When I got home, Dane’s Lexus was in my driveway.

      I parked under the ancient sycamore whose bare arms were just beginning to bud, the sprouts like lint balls on an old sweater. For all its wisdom, the tree never seemed to remember that our annual freak April snowstorm was still to come. Arizona weather is cruel that way; fickle, like relationships.

      Dane waited at the edge of my patio with his hands on his hips. I must have inconvenienced him again. I seemed to have a knack for it.

      Under a cashmere trench coat, he wore black pants and a white button down shirt. At first glance, Dane was gorgeous, exotic even, with his long black hair like Antonio Banderas in that vampire movie, but with a great tan. The illusion, however, had worn off after just a couple of dates.

      He opened my door and said, “We have to talk.”

      My hands slid off the steering wheel and into my lap. I didn’t have the strength to deal with him right now.

      “Dane,” I sighed, “let’s just — not today, all right?”

      “Look, I know I was a jerk, but how would you feel if I got up in the middle of dinner and left you sitting there?”

      “I guess it would depend on the reason.”

      I pushed him out of the way and stepped onto the chrome step bar to ease my descent out of the jacked up Blazer. I closed the door before Sundara could hop out. They didn’t get along very well, and I’d had enough conflict for one day.

      “You know there’s more to life than playing search and rescue,” Dane said.

      “Tell that to the kid who watched his best friend fall to his death trying to get out of Fay Canyon.”

      “That’s what the cops are paid to do, Abra. You’re just a volunteer.” He held his arms out like a preacher. “I’m telling you, you use those people to avoid intimacy with the ones who love you.”

      Sundara growled at him from the driver’s seat.

      “And,” he pointed at the window, brave with the wolf behind a barrier of glass, “You’re totally codependent with that dog. I swear there’s no room for anyone else.”

      Dane was on a roll, pointing out all of my shortcomings. He was oblivious to Chan who’d slipped out of the chimenea and was waddling up behind him.

      Skunks play fair. They give three warnings. One, they stomp their feet and turn their back to you. Two, they raise their tail. Three, they look over their shoulder and take aim. By the time they get to step three, it’s usually too late.

      Chan was lining up his shot.

      “Stop!” I yelled.

      Chan relaxed his tail, but didn’t lower it.

      I tried to get a grip on my temper before I spoke again.

      Dane’s tone softened. “Look, I know you’re upset about your dad and everything with,” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “‘ — The Solstice Killer — ’, but one of these days you’ve got to get on with your life.”

      “How do you know about my father?” I demanded. Aside from the Devlins, nobody in Sedona knew that the SK had killed my father, and the Devlins would never talk.

      “He’s dead, Abra,” Dane said, leaning closer, all earnestness now. “Face it, no matter how many people you save, you’ll never be able to save him.”

      I clenched my teeth together and slowly repeated the question. “How do you know about my father?”

      The corners of his mouth turned up. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.

      A chill went down my spine. Forget gracefully bowing out, there was only going to be one way to get rid of this guy. End it, and end it now.

      I opened the Blazer door, and Sundara jumped to the ground.

      “I’m just saying,” Dane stammered and backed away. He was dangerously close to stepping on the skunk that still waited for my permission to spray. “This is an opportunity for you to get closure.”

      “The only thing I need closure on right now is us,” I said.

      “But, I — ”

      “Please. Just go.” I pointed to his Lexus.

      “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

      “Now,” I said.

      When he continued to just stare at me, Sundara lifted her lips to urge him on.

      Dane stomped to his car and slammed the door.

      He left us standing in a spray of gravel.