Shooting Chant

by Aimée

  Ella reached Wilson’s office and saw him sitting at his desk, grading papers, totally oblivious to her until she rapped sharply on the door.

  “Hey, Professor, wake up!” Ella said, and laughed when he jumped.

  “Don’t you know it’s bad manners to give the professor a heart attack?”

  She sat down across from Wilson. “You and I have to talk, but between my schedule and yours it’s quite a trick to find time alone with you.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, Ella, but it’s always been that way. What brings you here?”

  “I’m searching for leads in my cases, as always. Have you heard anything, whether gossip or gospel, about the clinic break-in?”

  “I heard some of the students talking, but nothing you can use. The story is that nobody’s privacy is safe anymore, and if you want your medical records kept confidential you better leave the Rez to see a doctor.”

  “That’s not the kind of thinking that we need, you know. We already have a lot of trouble getting the older people to go to the doctor. If the younger ones start balking, too, we may have a serious problem on our hands.”

  “That’s why I try to come down hard on that type of talk, but the fact is that, in the long run, the kids will make up their own minds. Unless the clinic improves their security or does something to assure people things are okay now, they’re going to see a drop in the number of patients.”

  “We’ll have to weather this just like we’ve done all the other bad times.” Ella leaned back and regarded Wilson. “Speaking of medical files and confidentiality … I have a bit of news for you. But, for now, it’s for your ears only.”

  Wilson’s face didn’t betray his thoughts. He sat back and waited. Though Ella was certain that he already knew what she was going to say, he did nothing to tip his hand.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He nodded, not faking any surprise. “Are you happy about it?”

  Ella smiled. “Yeah. I haven’t worked out everything yet, but I’m definitely happy about this.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I’ll still be a cop. There are a lot of cops with kids, you know.”

  He smiled. “The father? Is it who I think it is?”

  “It’s Kevin and, before you ask, he knows but I don’t intend to marry him.”

  Wilson met her gaze and held it. “I’m glad.”

  There were many ways to interpret his statement, but Ella had a feeling that if she asked him to clarify, she’d get an answer she wasn’t prepared to deal with. Instead, she continued. “There are things he and I need to work out, of course, but I expect it’ll be that way from this point on.”

  He nodded. “Will he take on any financial responsibility? If not, the Navajos won’t consider him the baby’s legitimate father—not even if they know he’s the biological father. To claim fatherhood around here, you have to earn it.”

  “He’ll do the right thing,” she said, but didn’t elaborate.

  He took a deep breath, then let it out again. “Your baby is going to make some of our old enemies resurface, you know, if not now, then soon enough. They may try to get your child so they can control you. You’ll have to stay on your guard.”

  She understood his concern. Both she and Wilson had lost people they loved because of the skinwalkers. But she didn’t really believe they’d be a threat to her or the baby—at least not for a very long time.

  “They’ve been quiet for a while. Let’s not look for trouble. The last thing we need is to stir them up. But, if they start something, we’ll finish it for them,” she added firmly.

  “Maybe once others know the news, I can do a little digging from behind the scenes and see what kind of plans they’re making.”

  “No, please don’t,” Ella said, a little more sharply than she’d meant to sound. “You play an important role in our community,” she added, her voice gentler. “The kids and your colleagues look up to you. But if you go after people you suspect may be skin-walkers and start frightening people, you’ll focus the wrong kind of attention on yourself. That would serve no one, least of all me or you.”

  “All right. I’ll stay out of this. But there is something I want to say to you. I’ve heard about Clifford’s involvement with the Fierce Ones, and we all know that’s a vigilante group. You spoke of my position in the community and how I should guard my reputation, but that’s even more so for him. He’s one of our most gifted Singers.”

  “Why don’t you try talking to him? Tell him what you just told me. He might listen to you.”

  “I doubt it, he’s not that way. But I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.” She started toward the door, when Wilson called her back.

  “Do you have to leave right away? I’m really desperate for judges right now. I’m sponsoring a pet expo on behalf of the middle school science club. The exhibition is right here on campus. How about volunteering? It would only take another twenty minutes of your time.”

  “I really should be getting back.”

  “But it would really mean the world to the kids, and you’d be helping me out, too,” he insisted. “Besides, Big Ed’s niece is part of it, so if you’re a little late, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” she said, laughing.

  “Now you’re getting the idea.”

  Wilson led her across campus to the agricultural center, then to a small room that faced an enclosed courtyard. The animals were in pens, each with a small presentation notebook explaining what the animal’s use was, and how it served the family that kept it, and ultimately the tribe.

  Ella joined those already involved and judged everything from chickens to rats, using a checklist Wilson provided. As she reached a crate in the corner, she recognized Winnie the rabbit, Alice Washburn’s pet.

  “Whatever happened to the bunny this rabbit had? I remember Alice saying that most of the litter died.”

  Wilson looked grave. “That’s a strange story. The one that survived was born blind. Her parents wanted to have it destroyed, but Alice refused to agree. As it turned out, the bunny compensates pretty well and Alice adores him.”

  “So, it’s a good ending, though not a perfect one.” Ella said, and continued judging the exhibits. When they finally finished, she handed the score sheets to Wilson.

  “Now you owe me,” she teased.

  “You’re entitled to be treated to dinner,” he said. “Let me know when you have some free time.”

  “I will,” she said.

  “About your baby…” Wilson started to say something, then just stopped. He looked away, embarrassed.

  “Go on. You don’t have to measure your words with me.”

  “If Kevin decides to bow out, and you find yourself needing anything, let me know. I’d like to help you in any way you’ll let me.”

  Ella took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re a good friend. You’ve always been a big part of my life, and I expect you’ll be a big part of my baby’s life as well.”

  As Ella drove back to the station, she couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was shadowing her every move. Even her conversation with Wilson had seemed odd. She’d expected more active disapproval from him. Things had gone too easily and smoothly to trust.

  She sighed. Cynicism and pessimism were an occupational hazard for cops. She’d have to stay focused on the things she knew, as opposed to speculation. Her top priority had to be gathering more evidence.

  As she walked inside her office, Justine came to meet her. “We got an updated list from Myrna Manus. Not as many things as she thought are missing from the clinic. There are the drugs we knew about and some cash, but all of the medical files have been found. Now the bad news. When she sorted through the papers, she discovered that a few of the records were missing. The really odd thing is what was taken. Myrna said that every missing record pertained to a pregnancy test.”

  Ella suppressed a shudder. “Could it be that the t
est results for pregnancy in those cases just hadn’t been placed in the files yet?”

  “That makes a lot more sense. They probably run quite a few. It’s likely that they’d occasionally make filing mistakes with all the paperwork handled there,” Justine said. “I’ll have Myrna check with her people on that.”

  “Good,” Ella answered. “But if they were really after those pregnancy test results, and took them all, this still gives us some important evidence. We know that three violent, highly motivated burglars broke into the clinic. They didn’t count on us finding out about the missing pregnancy test results so soon, however. These new findings suggest the crime was planned and not as random as they wanted us to think. What we’re missing is the motive.”

  Big Ed suddenly appeared at her doorway, and walked inside her office, his face too expressionless to pass as natural. When he shut the door behind him, Ella knew there was trouble ahead.

  NINE

  Justine started heading for the door, ready to give them privacy, when Big Ed suddenly gestured for her to sit down. “Both of you need to hear this,” he said. “Senator James Yellowhair was just kidnapped, apparently on the way to work. I want you two on this case as of right now. Everything else takes second place. Is that clear?”

  It took a moment for Ella to process what he said. She couldn’t remember the last time someone of that stature in the tribe had been kidnapped. In fact, she didn’t think it had ever happened before.

  “What do we know about this so far?” she asked, her thoughts already focused, and her training taking over.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ve heard, but I’ll be quick because I want your team at the crime scene, pronto. Twenty minutes ago, Joseph Neskahi found the senator’s car abandoned near the main highway about two miles from the senator’s home. He called it in when he saw the state government plates and, while he waited, he found the letter the kidnappers left stating their demands. Just to make sure it wasn’t a hoax, Neskahi had another officer go check at Yellowhair’s home, but he wasn’t there or at his office.”

  Big Ed glanced at Justine. “There was some blood on the upholstery, so you may want to type that and get whatever you can. I want frequent verbal reports on this. I’ll have to keep the tribal president current on what’s happening, and I expect answers fast. Are we all clear on this?”

  “We’ll get started right now,” Ella said.

  As soon as Big Ed left, Ella looked at Justine. “I want you to go to the crime scene, get that abandoned car processed, then head for the Yellowhair home. You’re friends with his family. You’re more likely to get them to talk freely to you than I am.”

  “I’m on it.”

  As Justine left, Ella, working on a hunch, used her cell phone to call Lulu Todea at the tribal newspaper office. Ella didn’t really like the woman, but if anyone would know the senator’s current enemies, it would be she.

  Ella asked to speak to Lulu, then started down the hall, toward the station exit. Through the connection, she could hear excited voices at the newspaper office.

  “Hey, Ella. I was just about to call you. What do you hear about Senator Yellowhair?”

  “In regard to what?” Ella asked, suddenly wondering how much Lulu knew already. The kidnapping had been discovered by the police a half hour ago at most. Ella reached the exit, and stepped outside into the parking lot.

  “Okay, let’s not play cat and mouse,” Lulu said. “I’ve got a deadline. I know the senator’s been kidnapped and I know that there’s a certain group behind it.”

  “Which group?” Ella asked, feeling her blood turn to ice. There was only one group she knew about who’d use tactics like those—the Fierce Ones.

  “That’s the weird part. One of the kidnappers called here not five minutes ago. He referred to himself in the plural—‘We have taken the senator,’ ‘We have made our demands known,’ and so on. I tried to ask him some questions, wanting to find out who the group was, but it didn’t work. The man just cut me off.”

  “Do you have it on tape?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to do that,” Lulu said after a moment’s hesitation. “The call came out of nowhere.”

  Ella wondered if Lulu was telling the truth. “What else can you tell me?” She climbed into the Jeep, and started the engine.

  Lulu hesitated. “Well, I’ve got a theory. I think the reason they didn’t give me the name of the group is that we all know which group would do that around here. The Fierce Ones.”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t it strike you as odd that they wouldn’t claim responsibility outright?” Ella pressed.

  “At one time when they were anonymous, I think they would have been willing to do that, but things are different now that the identity of so many of their members is public knowledge. Actually, you should breathe a sigh of relief. Considering that your brother is a member of the Fierce Ones, you’re probably better off that they’re keeping the group’s involvement a secret for now.”

  Ella knew that Clifford wouldn’t take part in anything violent. Yet, even though it was technically kidnapping, holding someone against their will for a while wouldn’t be something out of the question for him—providing the motives behind it were good and the person wasn’t hurt. “What are the demands, did they tell you?”

  “All I know is that it’s all spelled out in the note they left in Yellowhair’s car. Your officers must have it already and I expect you’ll get it from them shortly. Now how about giving me something in return? I’d like to know what’s in the note.”

  Ella had just pulled out onto the highway, and was headed in the direction of Yellowhair’s home. “I’m on my way to where the senator’s abandoned car is right now. I’ll let you know as soon as I see the note.”

  “The Anglo press is going to get into this, all the way to Albuquerque and beyond. Will you give it to me first?”

  “I’ll do my best. But if the kidnappers call you back, Lulu, be ready to record everything.”

  “I’m working on that already.”

  “And could you make me a list of Yellowhair’s enemies?”

  “There are a lot of them, you know.” Lulu reminded.

  “Pick your top ten, those you’d do a story on,” Ella sighed, then hung up.

  Next Ella called Blalock, the FBI resident agent. She didn’t particularly like the man, but she needed the bureau’s resources and possibly manpower, particularly if the evidence indicated that Yellowhair was being held off the Rez.

  “I can meet you at the kidnapping site. I’m just twenty or so minutes away,” FB-Eyes, as Blalock was known, confirmed after hearing her account of the situation.

  “Good enough.”

  Ella had known Blalock for years, and they’d found their own way of getting along. The Anglo FBI agent had learned the hard way to make allowances for cultural differences and, now, was always sure to be seen in the company of a Navajo officer whenever he investigated a case on the reservation. Ella had noticed that his approach to the Dineh had mellowed considerably, too, from the first time she’d met him. Then again, she’d mellowed, too. She wasn’t nearly as cocky.

  As Ella sped down the highway, she forced her body to relax. She couldn’t allow the tension to get to her. She could and would do that for the baby, at least. Shifting her thoughts away from work momentarily, she looked at the passing scenery while heading northwest. The desert looked relatively lush this season, especially in the lowlands and fields along the San Juan River. Instead of the dry, dusty air and the smell of baked earth, the ground was covered with flowers, clumps of wild grass, and big thickets of brush. Sheep and goats fed freely and, outwardly, it looked like a good year. But there was an undercurrent that lay just beneath the tranquility that extended to the horizon. It whispered of other influences that threatened to corrupt the land and start a cycle of sorrow.

  Ella focused her thoughts back to the job at hand as she arrived at the scene. Neskahi’s patrol car lights were flashing, and Justine was already there. Also
present were round-faced Sergeant Tache, the department’s crime scene photographer, and Detective Harry Ute, whose job was to collect evidence. While Justine, their only fully qualified forensics expert, went over every inch of the car, the other two worked the surroundings.

  Ella walked up to Neskahi and saw the worried expression on his face. “What have you got for me, Sergeant?”

  Neskahi had placed the note in an evidence pouch, labeled with the time and location, and his signature. “You’ll find this interesting,” he said, handing it to her.

  Working carefully, and wearing latex gloves, she read it.

  “This is the Fierce One’s platform, all right, that the tribe should replace all non-Navajos on the tribe’s payroll. But this next demand of theirs is crazy. We can’t give any group a list of all non-Navajos working on the Rez, let alone arrange to have it appear in our newspaper along with their job titles. That sounds like they’re going to target these people.” Ella shook her head, then continued. “Our job is to serve and protect, not bird-dog Anglos taking tribal money.”

  “Did you notice that the insignia of the Fierce Ones doesn’t appear on the note, nor do they identify themselves clearly,” Neskahi pointed out. “Their demands are also extremely unreasonable. They want the tribe to replace every single non-Navajo worker, or pair the person up with a Navajo to be trained for that job, no later than one month from now. And if the tribe doesn’t comply—for whatever the reason—they’ll kill their hostage, and take another one.”

  Ella finished reading it, then shook her head. “Something’s not right about this. I realize these demands sound as if they’re coming from the Fierce Ones, but this isn’t their usual style.” She lapsed into a troubled silence. Many would think that she was trying to protect her brother if she didn’t come down on the Fierce Ones now, but she was sure that there was more going on than met the eye. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being led on a wild-goose chase. “The Fierce Ones would have never made such impossible demands on the tribe.”