Maggie of the Ute Tribe

By Sharon Langdale

Deputy Sheriff Maggie Hernandez, of Elk Hills, Colorado is called upon to investigate. The trail leads her to a nearby hot springs where a young botanist graduate student from Arizona State University has also died. Maggie’s suspicion of a second homicide grows. The trail of evidence leads her to the Tonto National Forest where she coaxes an orphaned five-year-old Apache girl to safety. The young girl shows unusual psychic abilities and is kidnapped. Frantic, Maggie is caught between solving the murders and her desire to find the girl before it is too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ink & Quill Publishers
• Release date: Jan 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9781948266956

Book preview

MAGGIE OF THE UTE TRIBE

A mystery and special love story between a

Native American and a Cosmic Tangent

Magie of the Ute Tribe

Sharon Langdale

Copyright © 2024

All rights reserved

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. The characters depicted in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No Part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the author/publisher.

Line/Content Editor: Janelle Evans

Interior Design: Jo A. Wilkins

Cover: Richard R. Draude

E-Book Design: Richard R. Draude

Copyright © 2024 /Sharon Langdale

All Rights Reserved

ISBN: 978-1-948266-86-4/Trade Paper

ISBN: 978-1-948266-95-6/E-Pub

1. Fiction/Mystery & Detective/Woman Sleuths

2. Fiction/Mystery & Detective/Police Procedural

3. Fiction/Native American & Aboriginal

www.iqpublishers.com

Henderson, NV 89002

Printed in the United States of America

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I dedicate this novel

to my husband Gary

Navigation Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

References

Author Bio

Deputy Sheriff Maggie Hernandez ended her sweep of Elk Hills. Weary from her early rounds, she drove her Jeep Cherokee the four miles out to Mineral Lake to take a short break. She parked in a turn out and opened the back to let her K-9 partner, Frankie, out for some exercise. He immediately raced to the end of his leash to sniff under bushes. She opened her thermos, inhaled the aroma, then poured herself the last of the hot coffee.

A deep, jolting growl echoed across the frozen lake.

Yikes. Maggie jumped, spilling her coffee. She dabbed at her jacket. In an instant she recognized the deep growl of expanding ice. I should be used to these sounds by now. Everyone in Elk Hills knows that early March still holds hands with winter, and the cold creates music for the lake when temperatures change from night into day, squeezing the ice until it cracks. She looked out across the three-mile-long lake. She could make out a few circles of open water, mostly along the shoreline. Each had been created by warm natural springs that welled up from beneath the snow-fed alpine lake as the ice eased its grip.

Maggie picked up the car phone mic to contact her office. Hi, Jenny. I finished my rounds, nothing to report. I’m out at Mineral Lake. I’ll return to the office soon. Over.

Before Jenny could answer, two sharp sounds like a pistol shot rang out and echoed around the hills surrounding the lake.

What the heck? Jenny, are you still there? I’m quite sure I just heard gunshots. Over.

Yes, I’m here. Had you on speaker phone. I just pulled off a fax. There’s news of two escaped convicts from the Tin Cup jail late last night. They hijacked a car and killed the owners, an elderly couple, a man, and a woman. It isn’t known if the convicts are armed or not. They stole the victim’s car, a 2018 Ford Taurus, blue sedan, Colorado Plate # JBS2709. Better keep an eye out and be safe. Over.

Thanks. What a pity. We’re a long way from Tin Cup but I’ll try to get a bead on where the shots came from and keep in touch. It might be unrelated to the convicts—possibly a local resident out doing some target shooting or coyote hunting. If it appears to be the wanted men, I’ll let you know and call for back up from Gunnison. Out.

Ears straining, she kept her window rolled down to listen for more gunshots. The heater cranked out warmth to herself and Frankie, but she heard no further gunshots. Her thoughts tried to fill in possible reasons for the recent shots. I doubt the escapees would be in this neck of the woods. They probably know that the two passes near Tin Cup, Cottonwood Pass and Cumberland Pass, are both closed in the winter. To reach Elk Hills, it would be an all-night drive down Hwy 742 to Gunnison, then Highway 50 to Hwy 149 to get to Elk Hills. I’ll bet they stayed on Hwy 50 and are in Montrose by now. More population there to blend into. But, if they knew of a hunting cabin in this remote area, they might plan to hunker down, wait for warmer weather, and go over Slumgullion Pass to Creed and on to Alamosa or to Pagosa Springs. Both directions could get them to New Mexico. Lots of remote areas there to hide out in. But, if they are here, they may be without food. A freshly shot deer could be a life saver. I should look for signs of smoke. Jenny said they’ve been on the run since some time last night, which could mean without the preparation of food, blankets, or water. We had light snow last night so only fresh tracks will be visible. I need to check any side roads and then streams flowing into the lake. The stolen car isn’t a four-wheel vehicle, so they’ll have to stick close to the plowed road around the lake.

Two streams had snow melt flowing across the road but she saw no signs of vehicle traffic. She slowed her vehicle at a larger stream a hundred yards ahead. Okay, here we go, I see faint car tire tracks leading to that thick grove of pines. She reached for her car phone to report the finding.

A blue vehicle burst from the grove a mere fifty feet ahead. It careened onto the lake road, wheels spinning on the snowy road. It raced ahead of Maggie at a dangerous rate of speed.

Grabbing her car phone, she began to follow. Maggie here. Jenny, tell Sheriff Carlson I’m trailing a blue sedan that could be driven by the escaped men. I’m at the south end of Mineral Lake. They may be heading for the pass road. I’ll follow and keep in touch with you. Quite sure they saw me. Over.

Okay. I’ll let the sheriff know. Be careful and keep in touch. Over.

Sure will. Out.

Her vehicle lost traction on the icy road, and she gripped the wheel tight. The vehicle ahead reached the pass exit and turned right. Fishtailing back and forth, it sped up the inclined road that would reach a summit above the lake, bordering sheer drop-offs into deep ravines.

Maggie notified her office, speaking quickly, Jenny, I’m still in pursuit and they’ve taken the pass road at a high rate of speed. I’m doing my best to stay with them, but this may not end well. Over.

I understand. Gunnison patrolmen are on the way. Over.

Good. Out. She held tight to the wheel to maintain control. The fleeing vehicle was far enough ahead that as the road twisted and turned, she lost it from sight from time to time. At a sharp hairpin curve, she slammed on the brakes. Her vehicle slid toward the road edge, a shrill noise filling the air. Her peripheral vision caught sight of sparks flying from the back left wheel.

Now I’ve done it. I’m too close, I got to turn into the skid and straighten out my vehicle or go over the edge. Her car responded to her efforts and came to a stop. That was close. Thank God that maneuver worked. She glanced at her rearview mirror and caught sight of a good-sized boulder with a white streak across the rock face. Her heart raced, Man, oh man. I missed going over by inches. Wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead, she backed up her vehicle and put on the emergency brake.

Her focus a moment before had been to save herself. Now the sight ahead, filling her windshield, forced her to draw her gun. Opening her driver side door, she crouched behind it. Frankie whined and paced back and forth. He even pawed at the wire divider.

Steady boy. Too dangerous for you right now.

One man stumbled from the driver side of the fleeing vehicle. He held a gun high in the air with one arm, the other hung loose at an odd angle. Behind him, the stolen car teetered on the edge of the roadway.

Colorado Deputy Sheriff, Maggie yelled. Toss your gun aside and get down on the ground. Spread your arms out. Man in the car, get out and toss any gun you’re carrying to the ground immediately.

The first man obeyed but Maggie caught the flick of motion near the front passenger door just before a bullet hit her car door. The person in the car fired a second shot, hitting her windshield with an explosion of glass. She returned fire, hitting the back window. Safety glass kept it intact, but it cracked into a spider web of broken glass. She couldn’t see much inside the vehicle, but a hand appeared, reaching for the passenger door handle. She gasped, Oh, my God, the vehicle is sliding over the edge.

Maggie screamed, Get out quickly, the car is going over!

Time ran out. The get-away car slid over the edge. She knew the passenger would die for sure. Maggie held her gun on the man standing in front of her as the sound of metal crashing against trees broke the quiet. Another explosion shattered the alpine air, and black smoke rose from the ravine.

Maggie called to the man on the ground, Put your hands behind you.

Groaning, the man obeyed.

She quickly let Frankie out. Her drawn gun and Frankie beside her, she approached the convict and attached handcuffs.

Get up and walk to the squad car.

The man obeyed.

Keep that dog away from me. He eyed Frankie.

Maggie placed the escapee in the back seat of her vehicle and locked it. She released Frankie to sit by the door and guard the man. Walking to the edge of the roadway, she confirmed her suspicion. The smashed vehicle was engulfed in flames. She wiped her brow again with a shaking hand. Got to call the office and get help up here.

Twenty minutes later, Maggie waved at two arriving Gunnison patrol cars. The captured man was placed in one of the patrol cars and Maggie and Frankie entered the other. Her own vehicle would be retrieved by tow truck by the end of the day. When the other body would be retrieved, she had no idea.

On the drive back to Elk Hills Maggie called Sheriff Carlson, bringing him up to date. After that, she called her husband Domingo. She would be at her office for quite a while filling out her report and didn’t want him to worry.

Maggie’s hands still shook. To hide them, she plunged both hands into her jacket pockets. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply to calm down. Within thirty minutes she was at the office.

Sheriff Carlson clasped her hand. Well done, Maggie. I’m glad you’re okay. He handed her a cup of hot coffee. You might need this brew. Quite a few papers to complete.

Thanks, sheriff.

At her desk she completed a detailed report of the events. Later, at home, she told her story to Domingo. He held her in his arms and kissed her.

Baby, I’m so glad you’re alright. You know how precious you are to me. I don’t like you taking such chances on your own.

It all happened so fast. I just reacted. Backup got there just as fast they could. Maggie kissed him and felt his strong arms encircle her in a long bear hug. I know you love me, and I always try to be careful—really, I do.

Did you have help from Frankie?

No. There wasn’t time to get him out from the back. I was pinned down and had to stay behind cover. But once I let him out, he did stay with me as I placed the one man left into the back of my vehicle.

God, honey, you were in a shootout—all alone, defending yourself. I’m so grateful you’re alright. Squeezing Maggie tighter, he rubbed her back and kissed her again.

Don’t worry. You’re so important to me, I’m not going to let any bad guy give me a bad day. But I am hungry. Can we eat? Then I want to take a long shower.

Exhausted from the day’s events, she fell into bed by ten o’clock and drifted into a deep sleep within Domingo’s caress.

Maggie jerked awake from her tortured dream.

Domingo stirred. What’s the matter?

A nightmare… It seemed to real my heart is racing.

Domingo patted her arm. It will go away soon. What bothered you? The arrest today?

No. I dreamed I was young. Mother and I were crossing the fierce current of a river. The water tugged at my feet and swept me away. My mother called out to me, ‘I’m right here Maggie, reach out.’ That’s when I woke up with my heart pounding.

Domingo said, Did that ever happen?

No, never.

Maggie’s phone buzzed and she answered the late call.

Maggie Hernandez? This is Officer Paul Hills, Ute Reservation Police in Ignacio, Colorado, we regret disturbing you with sad news, but your mother, Lomisa Buck, passed away this evening. The medical examiner said it must have been her heart.

Oh no. Was she alone? Maggie asked.

Her neighbor, Ana Wolf, was with her. They’d been playing cards and she says your mother grabbed at her chest and was in distress. Mrs. Wolf called 911 and the paramedics arrived within a few minutes, but she apparently lapsed unconscious and could not hang on. They tried to resuscitate her, but she slipped away. We’re sorry for your loss. Do you have any instructions where you want us to send her?

I don’t know… She furrowed her eyebrows. Where, or who handles funerals in Ignacio.

We only have one funeral home in town. I can text you the phone number and you can contact them and discuss your options. I’ll send it to you immediately.

Thank you, officer. Once she hung up, Maggie turned to Domingo. Mother is gone.

Let me get you something—water, a glass of milk? He rolled into action, trying to get out of bed.

She touched his arm to stop him from leaving. I’m okay. Only I feel so…lonesome. I’ll never be able to talk to her again. She murmured, If only I had called her more, now…

Baby, I’m sorry. It’s a deep hurt to lose your parents. I felt the same way when my father passed. Regret is a part of grief and mourning for a loved one. Time will help. He brushed his fingers across her cheek. In your heart she will be remembered forever. Will you have a Ute funeral for her?

That’s a strange thought. I wouldn’t know where to begin.

In her struggle to find sleep, Maggie turned onto her side and focused on the bedroom window and the falling snow. She stared into the night. Backlit by the yard light, she watched each unique flake appear for only a moment before it was gone. And so it goes for all of us.

Maggie fumbled for her buzzing phone and read the information regarding the Ignacio funeral home.

Who is that? Domingo said.

Just a text about the funeral home. I’ll call them in the morning before I drive over there.

Would you like me to come with you?

I don’t know. I’m sure my stepbrothers will show up, acting nasty as always. I think I should go alone. Also, your crew needs you on Schofield Pass.

I can arrange things out at work. Think about it and we can discuss it in the morning. Domingo embraced his wife. Close your eyes and rest, soon you will fall back asleep.

Maggie whispered close to his ear, I know my mother sent me a message in my dream.

Of course she did. She loved you.

On Saturday, February 27th, Natane Young sat on a flat rock at the edge of Ghost Geyser Hot Springs near the small Colorado town of Blue Spruce Lake. She spoke to her mother in Wyoming. Across from her, Marshall Elliott listened to the cell phone conversation.

I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize March came so soon. I’m two days short getting my research done at Blue Spruce Lake. Please forgive me. I’ll try to be there by the end of next week for sure. Natane stole a glance at Marshall. I’ll call and let you know exactly when I leave. Love you too. Bye.

Marshall stood, It’s getting colder by the minute. Are you going to stay much longer? I’m freezing. He swatted at a bee. Why aren’t these things in hibernation anyway? They’re flying all around here.

It’s close to four o’clock and getting cold, I won’t be much longer, but for your information, honeybees live throughout the winter, keeping the nest warm and safe.

Well, there are a lot of them buzzing at me and I don’t see anything for them to eat around here but dry grass.

The winter colony is much smaller than a summer colony but can still contain thousands of individuals. Natane closed her field book and stood. Come with me. See those tiny white flowers and slightly larger purple ones under the grass? They built their hive here to be close to those little flowers. Of course, during the winter, they forage many places for nectar, but spring is almost here, and this area will be bursting with many species of flowers, but the white and purple ones are special.

What makes them special? Marshall asked.

You’ll have to wait for my doctorate to be published to learn more.

You always say that, Marshall grumbled. You must not trust me, or you’d confide in me why you come to this spot so many times.

Natane took hold of his hand, Be patient, please. It won’t be much longer. You know I love that you drive a long way to be with me and in time…

Marshall gathered up their thermos and blanket. I don’t see why you tell Dr. Cook everything and leave me out completely. I watch you sending email after email to him with all your exciting news and I’m left in the dark. What’s all the secrecy about a couple of flowers?

My doctorate research will astound many and provide grant money for me to continue my research in a huge manner. I know you’ll be proud of me once I can go public. For now, I must be incredibly careful. Honey, please understand.

Well, stay a little longer. I’ll drive back to the motel. Try to get back before too late so we can have dinner soon.

Less than ten miles from the Ghost Geyser Springs and less than seven hours later, cathedral silence replied to the crescent moon hanging high in the night sky as a slight breeze stirred the pines outside the Blue Spruce Lake Native American Arapaho Museum. Sonny Wilson, a second young student with a bright future, closed the electrical mechanics book he’d been reading. The regulator clock chimed eleven.

He held his cell phone and spoke to the picture of a pretty girl. I’ll call you soon, Sara. He made a stop in the men’s restroom before beginning his security walk around the museum, starting with the artifact room. His hand never reached the light switch. Pain exploded in the back of his head,