The Shape Shifter by Tony Hillerman Page B

action, heard about Delonie. Having a hard-guy reputation, so forth.”

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    “Sounds reasonable,” Leaphorn said.
    “Anyway, whether or not robbing Handy’s was Delonie’s original idea, I don’t think he gets the blame for the way Shewnack set them all up. He told his parole officer that Ellie was his girlfriend. He was going to marry her, or so he thought, before Shewnack showed up and wooed her away from him and then wrecked her life. Apparently he talked about that a lot in prison. Anyway, his parole was passed over the first time because the board heard he’d been telling other cons he was going to hunt down the son of a bitch who’d ratted on him and kill him.
    He didn’t get out until early this year.”
    “How’s he doing since then?” Leaphorn asked.
    Garcia shrugged. “Okay, I guess. His parole officer told me he’s been checking in and behaving himself. Turns out Delonie was sort of like Begay in prison. Turned himself into a skilled laborer. Got to be an electrician, plumber, that sort of thing. Good with fixing things—from your refrigerator to your truck. He married a Navajo woman over near Torre-jón, and I think he does maintenance and general handy-man stuff over at the chapter house out there.” Leaphorn considered that. “Wonder how he managed that?”
    “What I heard, he’s married to a woman who’s involved with that Christian mission place out there, and she’s one of the people working at the chapter house.
    Keeps the records or something,” Garcia said. “I’ve heard some gossip that the marriage didn’t last long. But he didn’t have Delonie on his ‘watch out for trouble’ list.” Leaphorn sighed.
    Garcia chuckled. “You sound disappointed.”
    “Well, I’m just beginning to wonder what we think THE SHAPE SHIFTER
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    we’re looking for out here. Where we are now with what we know, all we could take to the district attorney’s office is a funny feeling. Not a hint of evidence about anything.” He laughed. “I guess we could tell him we just don’t feel right about that Shewnack death, and that fire either, and that maybe somebody stole an antique rug, and so forth, and if it was a murder, the one with the best motive would be Delonie. And then he reminds us that Delonie was in custody when Totter’s place burned and that he could call in a whole crowd of prison guards to back up his alibi, and about then the D.A. would recommend that we make an appointment to see a shrink.”
    Garcia laughed. “I’m beginning to think that might not be a bad idea.”
    “Well,” Leaphorn said, “I have to admit that all I have is that funny feeling I started with. The arson experts said there was no evidence of any kerosene or gasoline, or any of those fire spreaders arsonists use. Totter’s insurance company lawyers must have worked that over very thoroughly.”
    “You think so?”
    “Well, from what I’ve heard, Totter collected on a lot of valuable stuff burned with his store. So they would have done some looking.”
    “Which brings us back to that damned rug,” Garcia said. “Bork didn’t seem to think it burned after he saw that picture. So we have us a clever insurance fraud arson with Shewnack burned up by accident. Or maybe burned on purpose to provide the careless drunk starting it with a cigarette.”
    Garcia paused, waiting a Leaphorn reaction. Got none, and went on.

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    “Or maybe Totter killed him for some reason or other, and needed to dispose of the body, and then added in a little insurance fraud as a by-product.” Leaphorn didn’t comment.
    “I’ll bet you’d already thought about that,” Garcia said.
    “Well, yes,” Leaphorn said. “And I admit I’d like to know more about the fire. But nobody’s likely to help us reopen that case. Just think about it. The FBI was just delighted to get Shewnack’s name off its list after all those years. They won’t be eager to prove they missed the fact somebody