Desert Redemption

by Betty Webb

  Shaking, she leaned against me. “I’m gonna fucking sue!”

  Then she began to cry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next day, while at Desert Investigations fielding phone calls from the done-wrong Scottsdale citizenry, I reflected on the night’s surprising turn of events.

  After calming down, Chelsea had walked back her threat to sue. Not only that, but she also talked us out of calling in the authorities, pointing out that if Clint Moran was arrested, he would assuredly roll over on Harold, and as angry as she was, she didn’t want to see her ex-husband behind bars. All she wanted was a ride back to Kanati, which we duly provided. Love was blind, even when it came to felony kidnapping.

  “He’s going to pull that stunt again, you know,” Jimmy said, staring at his computer screen.

  “Harold?”

  “Oh, Harold’s learned his lesson, I think. I meant Clint.”

  “But he’ll have to buy a new Taser.” I glanced at Desert Investigation’s storeroom door, where Clint’s small Taser temporarily resided. “If he does do it again, with luck it’ll be somewhere far far away from Maricopa County. He’ll have to wait until he heals, of course. That was some whupping you guys gave him.”

  Jimmy looked down at his sore knuckles. “Just a little love tap.”

  “You don’t know your own strength. Speaking of, how are you coming along on your Kanati research? That place has to cost megabucks to keep going.”

  “I’ve hit so many walls I’m suspecting shell companies and Swiss bank accounts.”

  Since stumping Jimmy was almost impossible, I felt shocked. “Then how about Adam Arneault? You get anything there?”

  “Only the usual. Birth, education—he’s smarter than the average bear and attended Ecole Polytechnique…”

  I broke in. “That’s where Gabrielle went to school.”

  “Probably where they met, then.”

  If so, why hadn’t she mentioned it? The story about the anorexic model may have been heart-wrenching, but it might also have been a convenient lie. “You know, I wonder if…”

  The phone rang again and I picked it up. This time the caller was a Paradise Valley woman whose French bulldog had been dognapped and was being held for ransom. Having OD’d on kidnappings for the moment, I referred her to Cohen & Cohen. Stacey Cohen, an old friend of mine, was a retired FBI agent who, with her PI daughter, specialized in those kinds of cases. Their dog-retrieval rate neared one hundred percent.

  As the morning passed, more calls rolled in and I put the mystery of Gabrielle’s background on the back burner. Two cases sounded promising, but we referred the others. Our caseload was already dangerously full, but that didn’t keep me from thinking about Reservation Woman. Who was she, and how did she wind up on the Pima Rez? Those filmy, empty eyes…

  Not long after we’d finished lunch, takeout from Hasta El Burrito, I received a call from Pete Ventarro at the Medical Examiner’s office. It was almost as if some sixth sense had let Pete know who I’d been thinking about.

  “We just got an odd lab report on the guy found up on the Beeline the other day,” he said. “You interested?”

  I sat up straight. “Damn right I am.”

  “Our old friend giardia lamblia has shown up again, same strain as in that woman you found on the Rez.”

  “Same cause of death, then? Coronary brought about by extreme malnutrition?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered, after clearing my throat.

  “Lena, you all right?”

  “Never better.” I hung up.

  There are things you can let go, like a kidnap-happy friend, and things you can’t, like three dumped bodies within one week, all dead from malnutrition, two of them crawling with the same microorganisms.

  It was time to alert Sylvie about EarthWay.

  “You shitting me?” she yelped, when I was finished. “Not only is this the craziest damn crap—gee, what a useful noun—I’ve ever heard, but it’ll probably spread to at least three jurisdictions! Lena, why do you have to keep involving me in your messes?”

  Still muttering imprecations, she killed the call.

  At eleven thirty-eight that night, just as things were getting interesting under Sunflower’s Crazy Quilt, Sylvie finally called me back.

  “What, you been out jogging under the full moon?” she quipped, rather nastily, I thought.

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Who cares? Re EarthWay, turns out we got lucky with Stu Rizzo, the Hopi County Sheriff. Apparently, his oldest son has a doctorate in molecular chemistry and went to school with Rudy Foreman, your chemist buddy. Seems Rudy has been firing off emails to every bureaucrat in the state about that water, including to the Department of Child Safety. Long story short, having a chemist in the family makes Sheriff Rizzo more aware of certain, ah, problems, and he’s been worried about EarthWay for some time. Anyway, collective concern about the EarthWay situation resulted in an emergency court order to take a look-see at the water those kids are drinking. It’s going down at six a.m. tomorrow with Sheriff Rizzo, some test-tuber from the Hopi County Health Department, another one from Arizona Department of Environmental Quality, and a social worker for the kids, just in case. Oh, and yours truly.”

  “How’d you get invited to the party? EarthWay’s not in your jurisdiction.”

  “Because I brought up the fact that one of those parasite-ridden bodies was found in Scottsdale, which is within my jurisdiction. But I’m only going as an observer, thus the reason for my obviously ill-timed call. Since you’re the one who originally put two and two together, I’m inviting you along as Observer Number Two.”

  I sat up in bed, which didn’t make Jimmy very happy. “I’ll wear my best jeans.”

  Sunrise wouldn’t come until six-thirty, but at six, a thin strip of pale gray spread across the hills on the eastern horizon. Adrenaline pumping, Sylvie and I sat in her personal vehicle, a 2018 black Camaro with red racing stripes, waiting for Sheriff Rizzo and his deputies to move into EarthWay. Two other cars huddled near the cruisers. The writing on one said HOPI COUNTY DEPARTMENT OF CHILD SAFETY; the other, ARIZONA DEPARTMENT OF ENVIRONMENTAL QUALITY.

  “God, I love this shit,” Sylvie said.

  “Hmm.”

  “You don’t sound excited.”

  “Too many things can go wrong.” I couldn’t help thinking about David Koresh and the other seventy-five Branch Davidians burning to death at Waco.

  “Rizzo’s cool, I talked to him earlier. So are his deputies. You must be worried about the social worker’s reaction to the kids’ bare feet.”

  She’d meant that as a joke, but as a former foster child, I’d had years-long experience with social workers; job-related meltdowns went with the territory. “I’m more worried about Mother Eve’s reaction.”

  “You mean Priscilla Marie Heywood Stahl, a.k.a. Mother Eve? Have no fear. There’s an outstanding warrant on her from Deer Lick, Kentucky…something about missing church funds. If Arizona can’t get big-time dirt on the bitch, we’ll ship her back to Kentucky and let them deal.”

  “Just another reason to worry.”

  People like Mother Eve were all about control, and when that control was threatened in any way, they could erupt into violence. Besides Koresh, witness also Jim Jones, leader of the People’s Temple; Joseph Di Mambro, leader of the Order of the Solar Temple; and Shoko Asahara, leader of Aum Shinrikyo. And then there was Abraham. His voice drifted up from my subconscious: “Oh, great are the works of the Lord!” Although I was wearing a jacket, I shivered. I already had pictures of Megan Unruh and Reservation Woman, but thanks to Sylvie, I now also had a photo of Ford Laumenthal’s dumped body. Maybe someone at EarthWay could help tie all three together.

  At six twenty-five, the cruisers rolled forward, blue and red flashers on, no sirens. The rest
of us followed.

  EarthWay was just waking up when we drove onto the compound. Several apron-wrapped women were walking to the dining hall while a girl in a long dress scattered ground corn for the chickens. When we exited the cars, they stopped and stared in amazement. Even the chickens stopped pecking long enough to cluck their irritation before returning to their breakfast. I did, however, notice that after giving us a startled look, a couple of bib-overalled men changed direction and disappeared into the forest. Outstanding warrants?

  As more people emerged half-dressed from the buildings to see what was going on, a few children began to trickle out. The social worker, a middle-aged black woman with bright red beads on her dreds walked toward them with a big you-can-trust-me smile. Meanwhile, Sheriff Rizzo and his deputies stood by the arsenic-tainted well waiting for whatever trouble might arise. I looked around for Mother Eve, but saw no sign of her. Maybe she was a late sleeper. I hoped so, because that would allow the ADEQ scientist, a spindly man wearing a neck brace, to take his water samples without being challenged.

  No such luck. Just as Neck Brace Man set the valise carrying his collection of vials and bottles on the ground by the well, a voice shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?” Then a silver-haired woman emerged from the largest house and headed straight for him.

  The sheriff and his deputies closed ranks around Neck Brace Man, shielding him from Mother Eve’s charge. Calm in the face of her fury, Sheriff Rizzo, a tall, muscular man, brandished the court order. “This gives us the right to take some water samples, Mrs., um, Eve. Then we’ll get out of your hair.” He didn’t mention the social worker, who had already disappeared with the children into one of the other buildings. Sylvie followed, a concerned look on her face. Parents were known to get agitated when their own authority was threatened.

  Mother Eve obeyed the sheriff long enough to read the first paragraph of legalese, then ducked around him and made a grab for the Neck Brace Man’s valise. With a look of determination, he whisked the valise away from her and clasped it to his chest. “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

  “The fuck you will, fascist!” She lunged at him, hands open wide, claws ready.

  “Ma’am…” He tripped and fell on his butt, the valise still clasped tightly to his chest.

  Rizzo reached out a hand and grabbed Mother Eve by the wrist. “I’ll have none of that!” In a measured voice, he said to a deputy, “Do the honors, Jeff.”

  Within seconds, Deputy Jeff had Mother Eve handcuffed and sitting in the squad car, as Rizzo helped Neck Brace Man to his feet.

  “Neck okay, Dale?”

  “More or less,” Neck Brace Man muttered over the sound of Mother Eve’s screeches. “First that damned Beemer, now the Wicked Witch of the West. I’m gonna wind up on Worker’s Comp.” Still muttering, he cranked up a bucket of water out of the well.

  Intrigued by the commotion, a small crowd had gathered to watch the action. Among them was Sunflower, the young woman who had sewn my quilt. Today she wore a yellow dress decorated with a cornflower-blue print, and it was unbuttoned down the front to allow her red-headed infant to nurse. The deputies blushed and looked away, but Sheriff Rizzo gave her and the baby a warm smile. I’d heard he was a grandfather.

  Upon catching sight of me, Sunflower scowled and walked away. I followed.

  “I’m not talking to you,” she said, over her shoulder.

  “You don’t have to talk, just look at some pictures.”

  She slowed. “Pictures of what? Public hanging?”

  “Not what. Who.”

  She wheeled around to face me, the baby whimpering at her abruptness. “If you think I’m going to rat out my friends just because you bought one of my quilts, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  I waved the photos at her. “These people are dead.”

  “No one’s died in EarthWay.”

  “One woman was found at the rear of a business park in Scottsdale, another on the Pima Indian Reservation. The man was discovered right off the Beeline Highway not far from here. Has anyone gone missing from EarthWay?”

  “No.” But her fury had dwindled.

  “Anyone leave abruptly?” I was thinking about Mother Eve, her heft, her cold eyes, her swiftness in attacking the ADEQ worker.

  “This is the best place I’ve ever lived.” It sounded almost like a plea.

  “You get diarrhea often? Does your baby?”

  She curled a hand around the infants head, caressed the red hair. “No more than anyone else.”

  “No more than anyone else in EarthWay, you mean.”

  “I don’t have any other place to go.” This last was little more than a whisper.

  “Do you have a husband? A boyfriend?”

  “He left when I got pregnant. Mother Eve took me in and helped me give birth. She’s a good woman. You just don’t understand her, you want to think she’s doing something wrong, but she isn’t. We’re all happy here.”

  “Arsenic-tainted water and all?” I pointed to the abandoned water tower looming over EarthWay. “With some work it could be usable again. But you’ve got to stop drinking water from that well. It’s making you and everyone around here sick.”

  The scowl returned. “The purest water in the world won’t do any good without Mother Eve to run things. She’s our rock.”

  “Let me ask you this, Sunflower. When you and your husband, boyfriend, whatever first moved you here, did any money or property change hands?”

  Her blush was enough answer, but she said, “Billy, my former husband, had this house he’d inherited from his grandmother down in Peoria. He signed it over to her.”

  “I’m certain there were similar instances among the other people here; it’s the way she works. I can fix you up with an attorney who handles pro bono cases like this.”

  “What do you mean ‘like this’?”

  “Fraud cases. She’s done it before, to other people in other states. As soon as she gets whatever amount she’s decided to go for, she cashes out and blows town, leaving everyone in the lurch on the land she sold right out from under them. A good attorney could get that house back, or a settlement for its value, and since Arizona’s a community property state, half that money would be yours. More, adding in child support, which you’re probably not getting.”

  Her blush deepened. “My life here is based on how many quilts I sell. Most of that money goes to Mother Eve. I don’t have anything of my own anymore.”

  “The others are probably in the same financial position, having turned over everything they owned. But the good thing here is that we didn’t give her a chance to sell out yet, so you guys aren’t as bad off as some of her past victims. In fact, if you can get some of that property back and pool your resources, you can repair that water tower, then truck in potable water until it’s operational. Work together, fix up this entire place, and make it what you people wanted it to be. But for God’s sake, stop irrigating your vegetables with water from that creek. It’s a hotbed of a bacteria called—” I started to say giardia lamblia, but finished with, “It’s crawling with some very nasty bugs, bugs that cause diarrhea and worse.”

  “You think we’re stupid, don’t you?” She’d caught my hesitation.

  “I think you were looking for a better life than the one you had. In our own way, we’re all doing the same thing.”

  A beam from the rising sun struggled through the surrounding pines and caressed Sunflower’s hair, making it look like it was on fire. “Let me see those photographs,” she said.

  I handed over the drawing of Megan Unruh and the photograph of Ford Laumenthal, but after giving them a quick look she said, “Nope. Never saw either of them.”

  Disappointed, I started to take them back.

  “Wait a minute,” she said, holding on to the photo. “The group of moles above the guy’s eyebrow…” Her face compressed into a
worried frown. “It looks like a small turtle. See the oval? It’s surrounded by five others, one where the head would be, the others, the legs? I’ve seen that before. Where…?” She shook her head. “But I’ve never seen the woman.”

  Despite her hesitation, I began to feel hopeful. If she could identify Reservation Woman as being a former resident of EarthWay, this case was close to getting solved. “Sunflower, who else have you run across who had a turtle-shaped birthmark?”

  She swallowed. “The guy I’m thinking of, his name was Fred-something? No, not Fred, something else starting with an F, I think, but he was really obese, had to weigh close to three hundred pounds. This guy in the picture looks like something out of Buchenwald.”

  Something else starting with F. As in Ford.

  “And how about this woman?” I still had the photograph of Reservation Woman I’d taken the morning I found her. I showed her my phone, enlarging the image with my thumb and forefinger.

  She paled. “I…I…”

  “Did you ever see the man with the turtle-shaped birthmark with her?”

  “What happened to this woman?”

  “The same thing that happened to the man and the other woman.”

  She had to take a deep breath before answering, but even then, her voice trembled. “When…when the turtle guy showed up, he was with a woman, her name was…it was Eileen? Alene? Doreen? Something like that. She was pretty heavy, too, so I don’t see how this skinny gal could possibly have been her. Besides, the couple I’m thinking about only stayed with us for a couple of weeks. Then Mother Eve caught him slapping his wife around and threw him out. She told the woman she could stay, but that he had to go because she didn’t allow violence in EarthWay, especially not violence against women or children. But the woman—she was totally under his thumb—left with him. That was the last any of us saw them.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “A year maybe? Yeah. About that long. Billy and I—he called himself Coyote—had been here for several months, and I was getting sick in the mornings. I remember Billy saying he didn’t much like the guy, thought he was too bossy. Actually, Billy didn’t much like anyone here, especially Mother Eve.” She looked down. “But when he split, Mother Eve took care of me.”