Free Rock with Wings by Anne Hillerman

in.
    “Manuelito, don’t you have anything better to do on your vacation? Ever hear of sleeping in?”
    “I saw your text. We had a situation with Mama, and I had to come back.” Before he could ask, she added, “I think she’s OK. She had a restful night.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “What’s new with Miller? Do you know where he hid the drugs?”
    “Before I get to that, would you like an update on your sister?”
    Bad news travels fast, she thought. “I guess. Sure.”
    “She’ll be released sometime today.”
    “Do you know what she did?”
    “Not exactly. She got drunk and got rowdy.” Largo gave her the name of the arresting San Juan County sheriff’s deputy. “He can tell you.”
    “And what about Miller?”
    “No news so far.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    “I wasn’t wrong about him. Why would an innocent guy offer me five hundred to give him a speeding ticket?”
    “The dogs didn’t find any drugs. The feds are going over the car tomorrow. Chill out, Manuelito. I need to talk to you about something else.”
    Bernie fought back her disappointment and listened as Largo went on about the challenges of scheduling. He stopped without making the ask.
    “If Sister gets home tonight, I could take a shift tomorrow.”
    “I’ll plan on that, unless you say otherwise.”
    She put the unwashed dishes Sister had left in the sink, added soapy water, and told herself to cheer up. As she started breakfast, she heard Mama calling for her.
    Her mother was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Bring me the walking machine.”
    Bernie pushed the walker to her. “May I help you up?”
    “That’s what this thing is for.” Mama hoisted herself to standing, took a moment to find her balance, and then moved slowly toward the bathroom. Bernie walked beside her.
    “There are things we need to speak of. But first, we have our coffee.”
    Bernie knew the code. Her mother had advice for her, probably another lecture on her role in keeping Darleen out of trouble. But if Mama was still angry with her, she couldn’t read the signs. Perhaps her irritation had switched to Darleen.
    Bernie wiped off the table so they would have a clean place to eat. She poured Mama her coffee and found some raisins to add to the oatmeal, along with sugar and cinnamon. No milk, so they did without. Somehow, the oatmeal with the raisins made her think of the boxes of dirt sprinkled with rocks. At least she had Miller ontape. The recording proved that something was up with him and justified her traffic stop.
    Mama complimented Bernie on her cooking, but only ate a few bites. “Save the rest for me for lunch.”
    “No, ma’am. If I can find the key to Darleen’s car, we’ll get some groceries and I’ll treat you to lunch in Shiprock.”
    Mama nodded, and then reached across the table and put her hand on top of Bernie’s.
    “My daughter, I have been thinking about your friend, the one who got shot.”
    Bernie knew she meant Leaphorn. The statement caught her off guard.
    Mama put her hand on her chest, over her heart. “When a bad thing happens, it leaves a bruise here.”
    Bernie set her spoon down. The incident had emblazoned itself in her mind. She had pulled her weapon for the first time since she’d been an officer. She would have killed the perpetrator if she could have. And if she had acted more quickly, she might have intervened before the shooter hurt her mentor. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
    “I understand. I am happy you are here, my daughter. We will laugh together. We will cook today.”
    Bernie felt relief roll along her spine like a warm breeze. Mama didn’t have a lecture for her this morning. “What shall we make?”
    “ Atoo’ . The meat came already from Mrs. Darkwater’s nephew. Potatoes, onions in the drawer there.”
    Mutton stew, and no one made it like Mama. It took time, but it was worth it. And, Bernie thought, cooking would keep her from dark thoughts and obsessing about Miller.
    “We