by Aimée
“How remarkable can a rabbit be?” she asked, wondering all of a sudden if the trip had been a waste of time.
“Let me describe what I saw and you can judge for yourself. She’s taught it tricks, like one would a dog. He can kick a ringing phone off the hook to ‘answer’ it and, even though it’s completely blind, it follows Alice with remarkable accuracy. It can problem solve, too. It’s learned to get out of his cage by undoing the locking mechanism.” He paused. “I’ve been around animals all my life, but I’ve never seen any rabbit do those things.”
“So, maybe she’s got a budding Einstein.”
He smiled. “Funny you should say that. Alice named the rabbit Bunstein.”
Ella laughed. “Okay, so there’s a very smart little rabbit running around. What is it that’s got you so worried?”
“Let me give you the rest of the story which I got from Gloria. Out of one litter, one rabbit was born blind, and the rest of the offspring were so badly deformed they died. In view of all the anecdotal evidence we’ve been amassing about the fairgrounds, I began to wonder if this might somehow track back there, too, so I asked Alice where she got Bunstein’s mom. At first, she kept ducking my questions.”
Ella sat up, suddenly a lot more interested.
“Turns out that Alice found Winnie, the pregnant female, hiding in a fairgrounds culvert—near LabKote.”
“It can’t be LabKote’s. They don’t use laboratory animals. They sterilize test tubes and beakers and that sort of thing.”
“As far as you know.”
“Maybe the rabbit was part of the Agricultural Society’s exhibition,” Ella suggested.
“No, I checked. Some rabbits were there, but no animals, not one, turned up missing. The interesting thing is that there has been a very high incidence of abnormalities among the offspring of small animals who were at or around the fairgrounds the day of the exhibition. If the bunny was wild, then maybe it was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Not every animal that was there has been affected. You know that.”
“But their owners have been, or so it seems. Face it. No one who was there exhibiting animals has acted right since.”
“But it doesn’t add up. We haven’t found any contaminants. And even if the Fierce Ones had managed to find a substance that hadn’t shown up in the tests in order to blame LabKote, they wouldn’t have used other traditionalists like Mary Lou and Nancy Bitsillie to spread fear. Those livestock killings do not put the traditionalists in a good light, and what the Fierce Ones need most is public support from other traditionalists.”
“Are you really sure that the animals were killed by traditionalists? Mary Lou and Nancy have protested, claiming innocence, and maybe they’re telling the truth. Did you check the killing methods down to the last detail and verify that they were done according to our rituals?” he said. “I’d expect your brother to know things like that, but you? Heck, Ella, neither one of us knows stuff like that, not without looking it up or asking someone else.”
“Good point. I’ll go over everything again.”
“Keep me posted, okay? And if you need help, I’m here,” he added.
“Thanks, Wilson. I don’t think I say that enough to you. You’ve been a good friend.”
He nodded, but there was a flash of something in his eyes that told her it had been the last thing he’d wanted to hear. She mulled it over as she returned to her vehicle. Was Wilson hoping once again that they’d be more than friends? She hoped not. That was a complication she didn’t need right now.
Ella drove directly to Kevin’s. Although she felt guilty about letting her personal life interfere with business, she knew she’d never be able to concentrate on anything until she got the issue of his “watcher” relatives cleared up.
When she arrived at Kevin’s home, she saw him sitting outside on the porch of the small wood-framed house, a can of cola in his hand.
“Taking a break?” she asked, approaching.
“You bet. I’ve been painting all morning. You know I built this place myself. Well, until right now, I hadn’t quite gotten around to worrying about paint in the interior. But the walls were looking pretty stark.”
“What colors did you decide upon?”
“Color. Light yellow. They had several gallons premixed on sale at the hardware store.”
“Glad to know you took so much time selecting just the right look,” Ella teased.
Kevin laughed. “Hey, at least the walls aren’t all drywall white now.”
She sat down on the pine porch swing and tried it out. “Hey nice touch. I like this.”
“Good. Come over more often, and you can use it whenever you like. I find it relaxes me.”
Ella said nothing for a while, wondering how to start. “I learned a few things from my mother, Kevin. Disturbing things, you know?”
“I wish I could say I didn’t know what you’re talking about, but I think I do. At first, I couldn’t figure out why Grandmother Rena kept wanting to visit and bring her goats to graze around here. Her home isn’t too far from here, and the grazing’s no better here than it is over there. She and I have never been particularly close either, so this seemed just a little too strange.”
“So, when you pressed her, she told you?”
“I wish it had been that simple. Grandmother didn’t say a thing about it to me. I ended up putting it all together after talking to my mother and then my aunt. They’re now both part of the new traditionalists.”
“The ones who believe in the old ways, but use modern means to spread the word, right?” Ella saw him nod. “I’ve listened to their group’s late night radio show when they discuss plant medicine and rituals.”
“Their group is comprised mostly of traditionalists who’ve grown up with radio and television, press and media, and want to use what’s at their disposal to let other people know what they stand for. They hold on to the best of the old ways, but they also work with the new. You might call them cultural pragmatists.”
“Yeah, just what we need—a new group with another agenda,” Ella said with a wry smile.
“But at least they’re easier to talk to and, in this case, it really helped. My aunt is quite a bit younger than my mother, and understood that I had to know what was going on. So, although my mother only gave me a local history lesson, my aunt gave me the details.” He met her gaze. “I’m assuming you know about the watchers.”
Ella nodded. “Did you have any inkling about that before now?”
“No. I wouldn’t have built this house here if I’d known it could serve as a forward observation post for my relatives.”
“Why did you, then?”
“As far back as anyone can remember, this land was set aside for my family. No one had built here, so I figured I’d use it.”
Ella nodded. “Now what? Do they know I’m pregnant?”
“Yes. I told my mother not long after you told me. That was before I knew the entire story about our ancestors.”
“Do they believe it’s your child?”
Kevin gave her a guarded look. “I see that Rose has figured out the rest of the problem.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“My parents remember how close I came to asking you to marry me a few months ago. I think they believe it’s my child, too, but it’s hard for me to guess what they’re thinking. They believe my feelings for you influence me too much, so they’ve stopped confiding in me.”
“If you told them to stop spying on us, do you think they’d do it?”
“Truthfully? No,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try. I can still pressure them, and I intend to do that, but I can’t promise you any long-lasting results. What I can guarantee is that they’ll be far more careful not to be seen. But I’m not sure if that’ll be a help or not.” He took a deep breath, then let it out again. “I can tell you this—I will not allow any member of my clan to threaten you or the baby. Not ever.”
“Superstition is hard to combat,” Ella said softly. “And that’s precisely what’s at the root of the problem. To us, the whole thing’s nonsense but, to them, it’s solid fact.”
Kevin didn’t answer. “Remember one thing, Ella. It’s not just your baby, it’s mine, too. We’re in this together.”
Ella nodded. “By the way, no one at the police department knows about the baby yet, and I’d like to keep it that way for a while longer.”
“My family won’t talk about it, so you don’t have to worry about that. To them, watching you and your brother is part of the way they protect our tribe. It’s a lot bigger than gossip. Do you understand?”
“Yes, and it’s that fanatical dedication that worries me most.”
Kevin took her hand. “I want you to try and remember something. Anyone who comes after you will be coming after me as well. We may not be getting married, but the child binds us.”
Ella nodded, accepting the inescapable truth. Kevin was right. This was their problem, not just her own. Yet, despite that, she wasn’t quite sure how much to trust Kevin. He was just as much a product of his family as she was of hers. Even during her years on the outside when she’d tried to tell herself that she’d left her family and culture behind, that tie had continued to exist. It was no different for Kevin, whether or not he admitted it.
A short time later, Ella said good-bye to him and headed back to the station. She needed more information on the Fierce Ones, on LabKote, and on the livestock killings. As she considered where to begin, she realized that it didn’t matter. No matter which thread she picked up, she was certain it would lead to the center of the problem.
* * *
Ella remained at her desk, studying the many notes she’d compiled on the pending cases. As she opened the file on the livestock killings and read it over carefully, she began to see that Wilson may have been right. Although, at first glance the death of Abigail Atcitty’s ewe had looked like a traditionalist’s work, she just didn’t know enough about it to judge. She thought of asking her mother for help, but decided against it. Rose already had too many worries crowding her mind, with the legacy and her upcoming grandchild, and it didn’t seem fair to add any more to the burden she carried.
Ella picked up the crime file, then drove to her brother’s house, glad that he was out of jail and the Manuelito incident was over. As she approached, the breeze blew the blanket door of his medicine hogan open and she saw him inside.
Ella pulled up and parked, then waited by her car, not willing to disturb him. He’d come out soon enough.
A few moments later, he emerged and waved for her to come in.
When Ella explained her problem to him, he didn’t seem surprised. “I wondered how long it would take you to realize something was wrong there.”
“You knew?”
“We only had the words of those who had seen the carcasses to go by, but it was clear there were things that were off the mark. Let me give you an example. I was told that the head of one animal was placed under a juniper, on the north side. A traditionalist should have known to place it to the east. And the meat was allowed to stay on the animal, though there was no telling how long it would be before the animal was discovered. Our people have been taught not to waste the gifts the gods provide.” He shrugged. “I thought of telling you, but it was the kind of proof you wouldn’t have accepted off hand. Admittedly, these days our people don’t always know the right ways, so it was possible it was the work of someone who just didn’t know any better, but was trying to follow our way.”
“I still wish you’d told me.”
“Now do you see that the Fierce Ones are being framed?”
“I’ve always considered that a possibility. But the problem is, by whom?”
“The Brotherhood from the power plant is no longer a threat,” he said, “so there’s only one possibility—the Anglos from LabKote.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. They have no reason to care one way or another about the Fierce Ones or about the different factions within our tribe. The Anglos come, do business, and, eventually leave. All they want from us here is cheap labor and no interference. You know that as well as I do.”
“You’re forgetting about the dead insects and birds, and the evil at the fairgrounds that has affected almost everyone who was there. It’s our belief that their presence has brought this evil to us.”
“We’ve run tests—”
He held up a hand. “You’re thinking like the Anglos who are convinced that anything that’s real can be measured and tested. But that’s not always so.”
Ella forced herself not to sigh. That was the way with all metaphysical beliefs. They made perfect sense—to a point. Then, mysticism and superstition muddled everything.
“Do you have someone inside LabKote who can verify that the company is doing something wrong?” she asked, glad to finally have the chance to broach the subject.
“I can’t tell you that,” Clifford said.
“You want me to help you, Brother, but then you tie my hands. Give me a break here, okay? Your silence helps no one now.”
“I can tell you this much. Although there are many Navajos working at that plant, not one of them would have taught strangers about our way, and risk having that knowledge used against us. But there is one person who may have never stopped to think that she was giving away information that shouldn’t have been in the hands of an outsider. She isn’t a bad person, she just doesn’t always think.”
“Who?”
“You know her. Martha Gene.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Martha talks just to hear the sound of her voice. She goes on and on and, to make matters worse, seldom gets the story straight.”
Clifford nodded. “She’s a clerk at LabKote, and works for one of the Anglo supervisors.”
“I’ll go talk to her.”
“Be careful, or she’ll repeat every question you ask her.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no way to stop Martha from doing that. She’s incapable of keeping a secret.” Ella stood up and headed back to her vehicle. Clifford followed, a few steps behind.
“Be careful, Sister. I heard what happened to your Jeep, and how you barely escaped being burned. We’re dealing with one evil that has many arms. You need to keep your eyes and ears open while you’re at LabKote. I’ve been hearing things…” he said.
“What things?”
Clifford stared at the ground by his feet, then finally looked up. “Take a closer look at how many trucks come in and go out.” He turned and started walking back to the hogan.
“Wait!”
“That’s all I have to say.”
She kicked the tire. She knew that tone. Wild horses couldn’t drag another word out of him now. “It would be easier if we could work together, you know,” she yelled after him.
He stood at the door of the medicine hogan and shrugged. “Sometimes things aren’t meant to be easy,” he said, then disappeared from her view.
As her cell phone rang, she flipped it open, still muttering to herself.
“I’ve got some disturbing news,” Justine said. “The bio report on the dead birds and insects we found at the fairgrounds has come in.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“Their cell structure has been damaged at a basic level. It’s as if they were cooked from the inside out.”
“What can cause that?”
“Raging fevers from massive viral infections, microwave and other forms of radiation, and certain chemicals. But we can rule out viruses and chemicals because we tested for them and the results were negative.”
“By radiation, you mean like what LabKote uses to sterilize the lab supplies?”
“I was told that strong radiation could have been the agent, but it was highly unlikely that it came from LabKote since the gamma rays used in their process are supposed to be precisely aimed, and of short duration. Also the rays are usually shielded inside a building, and are incapable of getting thr
ough the protected walls, though they could easily penetrate unshielded areas.”
“The shielding is in place. I saw it myself,” Ella said.
“So, where’s that leave us?” Justine asked. “There’s no other source of radiation here, except for the old uranium mill tailings and background radiation. Yet that would have been widely distributed, not just on the fairgrounds.”
“Well, something happened at the fairgrounds to cook those poor animals,” Ella said. “Keep digging.”
Ella called Martha at home, but found out from her husband that the woman was at work. LabKote was trying to finish a big order and everyone was busy putting in a lot of overtime.
Curious about the new flurry of activity, Ella drove to the plant, had the guard notify the supervisors, then waited by the gate until Morgan came out.
He smiled as she saw her. “What brings you back here, Investigator Clah?” Morgan was wearing his side arm and had the knife, but was casually dressed in jeans, a sports shirt, and sneakers. She’d hoped to see him in boots and at least try to casually check those out against the prints she’d seen before.
“I’d like to talk to one of your employees, Martha Gene.”
“She’s my secretary. Has she done something wrong?”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s a Navajo matter, and I’d rather keep it confidential. But I need to talk to her in private.”
Morgan checked his watch. “She goes to lunch early, but you might still be able to catch her,” he said pointing to the field where most of the Navajo employees were now parking their cars. “There she is.”
Ella ran to catch her, glad for the chance to question Martha away from LabKote. Inside one of their offices, there was always the possibility that someone might have monitored their conversation. With video cameras in so many locations, she’d wondered about microphones as well.
“Martha, wait up,” Ella said, catching up to her in the parking area.
“Hey, Ella! How’s your mom doing? I haven’t had a chance to visit her lately, but last time I was there, her legs were much stronger.”
