Wind Spirit: An Ella Clah Novel (Ella Clah Novels)
Page 7
“Off the record, and, in your personal opinion, are any of your regular callers capable of something like this?”
Branch shrugged. “My callers, as you’ve heard, are passionate people. Gun registration is a particularly volatile issue. The People won’t take kindly to anyone who’s working to restrict their rights.”
“Save the speech for your program. Just answer my question.”
He scowled at her. “People are people, Clah. They’re capable of almost everything.”
“Well put. But you might keep that in mind, too. One of these days you’re going to piss off the wrong person.” Ella walked away from him, glad to finally be able to put some distance between them. Dealing with someone like Branch always left a bad taste in her mouth.
By the time Ella crossed the parking lot and reached her vehicle, she had a plan. Picking up her mike, she called Justine. “I need you to handle something else for me. Go talk to Janet Joe’s parents. See if they have any idea who may have wanted to set fire to the Hunt residence. Janet’s parents are right there on the front lines with Hunt on this issue. They’ve been victimized themselves already.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Justine said. “What really bugs me about this case is that even if we catch the perp, chances are all we’ll get him for is manslaughter. He’ll go to prison and then get out in a few years. Yet the way she died . . . that cries out for tougher justice, you know?”
“We’ll make the best case we can against the perp,” Ella said. “That’s all we can do. Our duty stops there.”
A part of her felt just like Justine did, but catching the perp was paramount in her mind now, not the eventual sentence. First, they had to restore order. Harmony wasn’t as passive a concept as she’d believed when she’d first returned to the Rez. It required a struggle and watchfulness to make sure that evil was held in check by good—that the balance was maintained.
SIX
It was ten-thirty that evening when Ella finally got the chance to open the book on life after death experiences she’d discovered in the Shiprock drug-store’s extensive book rack on the way home. Dawn was asleep, and for the first time today, Ella was on her own.
She was still sore, maybe from the accident, or perhaps her many work-related injuries were kicking up again. She had to fidget around on the sofa to get comfortable but finally she put her feet up on the cushions and began to read.
The book was written by an MD who’d interviewed hundreds of people who’d survived what he called “bodily death,” and she was amazed at the similarities in the described experiences. She’d finished the first chapter when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rose peer into the living room, then leave. About fifteen minutes later, Rose came back in again and quickly left before Ella could say a word.
The third time Rose came by, Ella closed the book and waved at her mother. “Mom, why don’t you come in and tell me what’s bothering you?”
“Have you found the Singer?” Rose suddenly paused, then continued. “No, let me rephrase that. Are you still trying to find him?”
“I searched for half a day, left word at the trading post and with some other people I met, but I’m relying on your friends and my brother most of all. I’ve now started working on a case, so my free time is restricted.”
“Finding the Singer is very important, Daughter. I’d hoped that you’d try to get some leads and follow them up, just like you do when you’re tracking a suspect.”
“I am and will, but I’ve also got to take care of police business. A leave of absence is out of the question.”
“If we were to find him tomorrow would you put your work aside and have the Sing done right away?”
Ella sighed. “Mom, the Holy Ways can last up to a week. I doubt that the department would let me take that much time off all at once right now. I’d have to find some way to work things out.”
Rose’s expression hardened. “You have to find the Singer, Daughter, and then make the time to be healed. It’s been nearly ten years now, but don’t you remember how isolated you were when you first returned home? Some of the Dineh called you L.A. woman and wouldn’t even speak to you.”
“Of course I remember,” Ella answered. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d left her job with the FBI and come to unofficially investigate her father’s murder.
“It’ll be far worse now unless you honor Navajo ways. You’ll be treated like an enemy instead of just an outsider.”
“I know that, Mom, believe me. I will take care of this.”
“It’ll help you, even though you’re only having the Sing done so that others won’t be afraid.” Rose gave Ella a long, pensive look. “You still don’t really believe in any of our ways, do you?”
“I try to keep an open mind, but honestly, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Rose glanced down at the paperback that Ella had in her lap. “Life after death experiences? It sounds like one of your father’s books. Have you decided to become a Christian like him?”
“I don’t think picking a religion is something you can decide so quickly or easily. I’m just reading . . . and learning.”
“Something happened to you down in that mine,” Rose observed thoughtfully. When Ella didn’t comment, she added, “Navajos like myself define death as lack of growth—stagnation, if you will. We don’t believe in a personal afterlife, just that the good in us merges with universal harmony. The bad, of course, remains earthbound.” She held Ella’s gaze. “When your wind breath was lost, did you experience something . . . troubling?”
Ella hesitated. Since she still wasn’t sure what had happened, it seemed wrong to discuss it with Rose. What she’d seen would conflict with the beliefs her mother had held all her life.
“Mom, lack of oxygen can do all sorts of crazy things to a person,” she said, trying to make light of it. When Rose’s expression hardened, Ella sighed. “When you come face-to-face with your own mortality like I did, you learn a lot about yourself—what matters and what doesn’t,” she said, measuring her words. “In a pinch inner strength is far more important than physical. It’s the reason I’m here now.”
Before Rose could answer, Two suddenly began barking.
“What’s gotten into that dog? He was chewing on a bone just a while ago.” Rose looked toward the kitchen. Two was on his hind legs, looking out the back window.
Seeing him, Ella felt her skin prickle. As she glanced over at her mother, she saw the same uneasiness mirrored on Rose’s face. “Stay inside with Two,” Ella said quickly. “I’m going to take a look.”
Reaching for both her cell phone and her gun, she hurried to the back door. Even before she stepped outside, she heard the pony running around in the corral, obviously disturbed about something. “Keep Two here. The dog will chase anyone off, and I’d rather catch whoever’s out there if I can.”
Rose held Two by the collar to keep him from following as Ella turned off the kitchen lights and slipped outside, edging along in the shadow cast by the house. The moon was out, but the clouds muted its glow. As Ella hurried toward the corral, she caught a brief glimpse of a shadow darting between the hay bin and the shed.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot,” she called out, hoping he wasn’t going to run for it.
The figure crouched low, then raced away.
“Oh, crap, you want to run?” Ella grumbled, breaking into a jog. Picking up speed, she followed him to the large arroyo, a fifty-foot-wide natural ditch, which ran parallel to the fence line. Stopping for a moment to listen, she heard a thump. Figuring he must have jumped down to the bottom, Ella cautiously moved forward and risked a look below. A large impression had been made in the loose sand at the bottom, and other footprints led downhill. Knowing that person would have to climb out again somewhere, and figuring that she could make better speed up here where the ground was harder, Ella opted to run along the top of the arroyo. The soreness she’d felt earlier on the sofa had disappeared, perhaps from the extra adrenaline, and she
found an easy rhythm in her stride.
Several minutes later, she stopped and listened for footsteps. It was too quiet. She crept to the edge and studied the area below. There were no footprints visible anywhere. The person had chosen to hide, either by pressing himself tightly against the bank, or maybe crawling inside one of the dark crevices.
The perp was smart, and knew how to blend into the deepest shadows with skill. Backtracking, she found an area of sandstone that intersected the arroyo. Scuff marks showed he’d gone up one of the narrow side channels perpendicular to the main wash.
Going on instinct, she headed toward the road, certain that was his destination as well. As Ella drew near, she began searching for a vehicle. Soon the road became visible, but before she could intensify the search, she heard a car or truck starting in the distance, and then saw a pair of taillights moving toward the highway.
Ella strongly suspected that it was the same person she’d been chasing, but since she had no way of knowing for sure, she remained vigilant as she returned to the house at a fast walk. When Ella reached the back porch, Rose opened the door and let her in. Two was beside her mother, the bone back in his mouth as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Are you all right?” Rose asked Ella. Seeing her nod, she added, “My special herbal tea will be ready in a minute. It’ll help us both relax.” Pouring hot water into a teapot, Rose said, “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m not sure if it was a burglar, or a vandal, or if someone’s watching the house, Mom. If this ever happens when I’m not home—Two going nuts like that and the pony whinnying and running around—keep the mutt with you and call the station. Two will defend you and my daughter. He’s very protective.”
Rose petted the mutt’s head. “Yes, he is.”
“I’m also going to request that the department send an officer down this road more often and at random intervals.”
As Rose poured them both some of her special tea, the kitchen was filled with a soothing, minty scent.
“Mom, once before, your friend kept a watch on this house. Is it possible that he’s doing so again?” Ella asked, remembering how Herman Cloud had tried to protect their family, especially Rose, with whom he had a long-standing friendship.
“Bizaadii?” Rose asked, surprised. Herman Cloud was a very quiet man, so calling him “the gabby one” had been Rose’s way of teasing. “If that had been him, he wouldn’t have run from you like a criminal. He’s a traditionalist and may not have wanted to be too close to you, but he would have at least identified himself.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He’s too direct and plainspoken to do anything less.”
“And he’s always been very loyal to this family,” Rose said thoughtfully.
“That’s because he cares about you, Mom.”
“I’ve been very lucky in my life. I found a mate in your father, and a very comforting friendship with Bizaadii. But I worry about you, Daughter. The day will come when your daughter will no longer need you. Your life will be very empty if she’s all you have.”
“My daughter’s barely in school. I have a long time before I need to worry,” she answered, smiling.
“Time has a way of slipping through our fingers, Daughter. It’s the way of life.”
Ella got up at daybreak after a restless night. Worries about the case and, more importantly, the person who’d been lurking around her home had crowded her mind. She thought of Professor Garnenez, then recalled how he’d acted around her. He wouldn’t have come around at night, not to a place he considered contaminated with evil. Traditional Navajos, and possibly a lot of new traditionalists, avoided doing anything dangerous at night—the time for evil to roam.
Dressing silently and noting gratefully that she was less sore this morning than she’d been yesterday, Ella crept through the house, then went outside. First, she checked her department vehicle, especially the tires. After changing the flat yesterday, she’d remembered passing through an old dump site that had intersected the dirt track she’d been following. The ground had been littered with half-buried junk. That may have been where she’d picked up the object that had ended up giving her the flat tire. But a vandal might have targeted her unit when she’d left it parked at the trading post, too. There was no way to know for sure, so from now on, she’d be giving her vehicle a frequent once-over.
Assured that her unit was okay she began to search for traces of last night’s visitor. Ella quickly found footprints around the area where she’d seen the figure, but they were faint, and an early-morning breeze had softened the features, making the impressions less distinct. Her guess was that he’d worn a size eight or nine shoe, but that didn’t tell her much. It was a pretty common size.
Ella took a deep breath. The air was crisp and clear and she felt energized. A long-distance runner since high school, she eased into a comfortable jog and headed to her brother’s house, less than three miles away. He would be up now saying his prayers to the dawn.
As Clifford’s home and medicine hogan came into view, Ella saw that he’d completed his prayers and was carrying a handful of wood into his medicine hogan. Seeing her jogging up the road, he stopped and waved. “I haven’t seen you out running in a long time. You must be feeling well.”
“I am,” she admitted, slowing to a walk as she got close. She loved jogging, though she didn’t do it nearly often enough. “I need to talk to you,” she said as he placed the wood down by the entrance to the hogan.
“Sure. Come inside. I’m expecting a patient this morning, but he’s not due for some time yet.”
“Can we walk and talk instead? I’d like to cool down slowly so I don’t stiffen up. I’m still planning on running back home.”
“Okay.” Clifford walked beside her as they continued past the end of the road and down a trail that led into a nearby canyon.
“I think someone is watching the house,” she said, coming right to the point. “Since right now I’m an object of fear to some and curiosity to others, I’d like you to keep an eye out.”
“Of course. Do you sense danger?”
Clifford had always honored her intuition. The question didn’t surprise her.
“Not particularly, but logic and instinct both tell me to be cautious.”
“Logic may fail you, but your instincts never will. Trust them to guide you instead.”
“I do. In fact, these days, I seem to be more attuned to everything around me,” she said, then regretted having spoken. Clifford wouldn’t let it go at that. “I’m not an oracle, don’t get me wrong,” she added with a chuckle.
“When something frightens you, you always joke. You give yourself away every time, Sister.”
One of the many skills Clifford had developed as a hataalii was the ability to read between the lines—to sense what people weren’t telling him. “I’m not afraid of this. I’ve just been surprised by how I can predict what people are going to do.” She told him about her experience at the Joes’. “I turned around just in time to see them looking at me.”
“You faced death. That’s bound to make you more attuned to the world around you—to the life you almost lost.” He paused, then added, “But keep that new ability of yours under wraps for now. People are likely to misinterpret anything they perceive as a change in you.”
“And think that somehow it’s a result of my contamination?” she said, finishing the thought for him.
He nodded. “Things are always more complicated on the reservation. You know that.”
Ella took a deep breath, thought about mentioning her experience with Professor Garnenez, then decided against it. There was nothing to be gained by mentioning his name, and perhaps within a few weeks, days if she was lucky, she’d no longer be considered a pariah by some. “I better go back. I have to drive over to see my child’s father this morning. I’m also going to ask him to keep an eye out whenever he’s at the house visiting.”
“Good. He should be aware of what’s going on.”
Seeing her come into the kitchen, Dawn gave Ella a hug and a kiss, then immediately began talking about the pony and her latest riding lesson with Boots.
“Boots said that I have good hands,” she said proudly.
Boots glanced back from in front of the stove and nodded. “She does, and great balance too. She doesn’t depend on the stirrups as much as other kids her age.”
As Boots and Dawn began talking about riding Ella felt a twinge of jealousy. For a moment, she wondered what it would have been like if she’d married Kevin, who could have easily provided for them. She would have had the financial freedom to be a full-time, stay-at-home mom, maybe even home-school her child as more and more people were doing across the country.
No sooner than the thought formed, Dawn, who’d been demonstrating how to neck rein while seated at the table, knocked over her glass of milk, which tipped over her cereal bowl. Dawn managed to catch the bowl in time—upside down.
As Two rushed up to express his divine right to spillage, Ella, who’d jumped up to grab a dish towel, tripped over the animal and nearly fell. Two yelped, Dawn began to giggle, and chaos ensued.
Dawn had somehow managed to get oatmeal in her hair. As Boots took her to wash up and change clothes, Ella sighed and helped Rose clean up the floor and table. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. Not now, not ever.
Ella reached for her weapon, kept on the top shelf, removed the trigger lock that she’d added recently now that Dawn was getting taller and could stand on a step stool, and clipped the holster onto her belt. “I better get going.”