Excerpt of Hunting Badger by Tony Hillerman

Chapter One

Deputy Sheriff Teddy Bai had been leaning on the doorframe
looking out at the night about three minutes or so before
he became aware that Cap Stoner was watching him.

"Just getting some air," Bai said. "Too damn much
cigarette smoke in there."

"You're edgy tonight," Cap said, moving up to stand in the
doorway beside him. "You young single fellas ain't
supposed to have anything worrying you."

"I don't," Teddy said.

"Except maybe staying single," Cap said. "There's that."

"Not with me," Teddy said, and looked at Cap to see if he
could read anything in the old man's expression. But Cap
was looking out into the Ute Casino's parking lot, showing
only the left side of his face, with its brush of white
mustache, short-cropped white hair and the puckered scar
left along the cheekbone when, as Cap told it, a woman he
was arresting for Driving While Intoxicated fished a
pistol out of her purse and shot him. That had been about
forty years ago, when Stoner had been with the New Mexico
State Police only a couple of years and had not yet
learned that survival required skepticism about all his
fellow humans. Now Stoner was a former captain, augmenting
his retirement pay as a rent-a-cop security director at
the Southern Ute gambling establishment — just as Teddy
was doing on his off-duty nights.

"What'd ya tell that noisy drunk at the blackjack table?"

"Just the usual," Teddy said. "Calm down or he'd have to
leave."

Cap didn't comment. He stared out into the night. "Saw
some lightning," he said, pointing. "Just barely. Must be
way out there over Utah. Time for it, too."

"Yeah," Teddy said, wantingCap to go away.

"Time for the monsoons to start," Cap said. "The
thirteenth, isn't it? I'm surprised so many people are out
here trying their luck on Friday the thirteenth."

Teddy nodded, providing no fodder to extend this
conversation.

But Cap didn't need any. "But then it's payday. They got
to get rid of all that money in their pay envelopes." Cap
looked at his watch. "Three-thirty-three," he
announced. "Almost time for the truck to get here to haul
off the loot to the bank."

And, Teddy thought, a few minutes past the time when a
little blue Ford Escort was supposed to have arrived in
the west lot. "Well," he said, "I'll go prowl around the
parking areas. Scare off the thieves."

Teddy found neither thieves nor a little blue Escort in
the west lot. When he looked back at the employees only
doorway, Cap was no longer there. A few minutes late. A
thousand reasons that could happen. No big deal. He
enjoyed the clean air, the predawn high-country chill, the
occasional lightning over the mountains. He walked out of
the lighted area to check his memory of the midsummer
starscape. Most of the constellations were where he
remembered they should be. He could recall their American
names, and some of the names his Navajo grandmother had
taught him, but only two of the names he'd wheedled out of
his Kiowa-Comanche father. Now was that moment his
grandmother called the "deep dark time," but the late-
rising moon was causing a faint glow outlining the shape
of Sleeping Ute Mountain. He heard the sound of laughter
from somewhere. A car door slammed. Then another. Two
vehicles pulled out of the east lot, heading for the exit.
Coyotes began a conversation of yips and yodels among the
pinons in the hills behind the casino. The sound of a
truck gearing down came from the highway below. A pickup
pulled into the employees only lot, parked, produced the
clattering sound of something being unloaded.

Teddy pushed the illumination button on his Timex. Three-
forty-six. Now the little blue car was late enough to make
him wonder a little. A man wearing what looked like
coveralls emerged into the light carrying an extension
ladder. He placed it against the casino wall, trotted up
it to the roof.

"Now what's that about?" Teddy said, half-aloud. Probably
an electrician. Probably something wrong with the air-
conditioning. "Hey," he shouted, and started toward the
ladder. Another pickup pulled into the employee lot—this
one a big oversize-cab job. Doors opened. Two men emerged.
National Guard soldiers apparently, dressed in their
fatigues. Carrying what? They were walking fast toward the
EMPLOYEES ONLY door. But that door had no outside knob. It
was the accounting room, opened only from the inside and
only by guys as important as Cap Stoner.

Stoner was coming out of the side entrance now. He pointed
at the roof, shouted, "Who's that up there? What the hell—"

"Hey," Teddy yelled, trotting toward the two men,
unsnapping the flap on his holster. "What's —"

Both men stopped. Teddy saw muzzle flashes, saw Cap Stoner
fall backward, sprawled on the pavement. The men spun
toward him, swinging their weapons. He was fumbling with
his pistol when the first bullets struck him.