Wind Spirit: An Ella Clah Novel (Ella Clah Novels)

by Aimée Thurlo

  “It’s the best we’re going to get, Ella,” Justine said.

  Ella nodded. “Finish making out your report and leave one copy on my desk and another for the chief. It’s almost eight now. I’m going home.”

  As she drove home Ella felt the same peculiar sense of restlessness that always followed her after a bad day. Glancing at her watch, she wondered if Rose had waited to make dinner for both of them tonight. She did that every so often.

  Ella called home. “Mom, have you eaten yet?”

  “No, not yet. Your daughter just went to bed, and I was going to give you some time to get home.”

  “Great. Don’t cook dinner.”

  “You’re picking up something?”

  “No, Ma, I’m cooking tonight. I’ll come up with a decent meal using whatever we have on hand. And don’t worry. I can follow cookbook instructions.”

  “I don’t have a cookbook.”

  “Then I’ll make up my own recipe.”

  “Daughter, I don’t think we’re ready for that.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make something easy. Maybe Texas chili. It’s hard to kill beans.”

  Even with a pressure cooker, the beans had refused to soften for some reason. It was ten o’clock and neither of them had eaten anything yet.

  “How long can it take beans to cook?” Ella said, exasperated after tasting one.

  “I usually soak them overnight,” Rose said, then took one bean from the pot. Sampling it, she added, “I think we’ve got a shot at refritos.”

  By eleven, they finally had a meal on the table. The burritos, stuffed with chili, refritos, and sausages, were wonderful.

  “It’s not bad at all, Daughter.”

  “I’m a Renaissance woman, Mom. I just have to apply myself.”

  Rose gave her a long, thoughtful look. “You were on the news tonight—the national news. Did you know that?”

  “Really? Must have been a slow news day for them to focus on a Navajo. What was the story about?” Ella hoped it wasn’t about the incident with Bruce Smiley. She reached up and touched one of the scratches on her forehead, then noticed Rose watching her closely.

  “They talked about you saving your nephew, then being buried alive. The reporter called it a miracle. They showed film from some old mine, not the right one, of course, then you in front of the police station being interviewed by that local reporter. But you didn’t have that scratch on your forehead this morning, Daughter. Is there something I don’t know about yet that may be in tomorrow’s news?” Rose asked nonchalantly as she took a bite of burrito. “You also have some new bruises.”

  “You don’t miss much, do you, Mom?” Ella recounted the events and the explosion. “Everyone believes it’s all over now, and the evidence seems to support that, but I have a real bad feeling about this.”

  Rose began clearing the table. “I don’t know how you stand your work. From what I see, it’s a never-ending job with few real victories.”

  “This is what I was meant to do. It suits me,” Ella replied honestly. “But I haven’t been paying enough attention to the details of my personal life. I should have seen to it that I had life insurance, and a will. Nearly getting blown up today brought the urgency of it home to me again.”

  “That reminds me, you got a letter from a life insurance company.” She reached up to a wooden shelf above the counter and handed Ella the thick packet.

  Ella immediately recognized the name of the company. As she glanced at the forms, she realized that she’d need to do more than fill out the questionnaire. She’d have to go see Carolyn and get a physical. But that wouldn’t be a problem.

  “I can understand why you’d want to leave your daughter a cash settlement,” Rose said in a heavy voice. “These days everything revolves around cash, check, or credit cards. There was a time when having lots of sheep in the corral was the same as being rich. You could always trade for whatever you needed.” Rose stood up wearily and rubbed her eyes. “You can leave the dishes to soak in the sink tonight if you want. Good night, Daughter.”

  As Rose left, Ella thought about how different her mother’s generation was from her own. She couldn’t help but wonder what the world would be like when her daughter grew up.

  Ella cleared the table and washed the dishes and pans, placing everything in the drain rack to dry overnight. After wiping the table and counter, she hung the dishcloths up to dry and walked wearily out of the kitchen, turning off the light.

  Stopping by Dawn’s room, she slipped inside and brushed a light kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Dawn had grown a lot this past year and become very independent. Her baby was gone forever and now in her stead was this little person. The realization was bittersweet. She wished that Dawn could stay just as she was forever.

  Ella slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d come in. Her job now was to safeguard her daughter’s future and make sure Dawn was protected until she was strong enough to face life on her own terms.

  The following morning Dawn dressed for school while Ella made the oatmeal. After one taste, Dawn put the spoon down and made a face. “Yuck. This tastes like glue with sugar, Shimá.”

  Ella tasted the oatmeal herself, then grimaced. “You’re right.”

  “See? You don’t want to eat it either.” Dawn shook her head, then looked through the entryway toward the front door as someone walked inside. “Boots, help!”

  Ella smiled at Dawn’s sitter. “You heard my daughter’s cry,” she said as Boots stopped to pet Two, who’d greeted her at the door. “Breakfast is in your hands.”

  Boots was still laughing when the phone rang and Ella went to answer it. Whenever they got a call this early in the morning it was invariably work-related and it was no different today. Even before he identified himself, she recognized Sheriff Taylor’s voice. From the sound of the connection and background noise, he was speaking from a cell phone.

  “I thought I’d better give you a heads-up, Ella,” he said. “Someone drove a car right into George Branch’s living room via the picture window. That started a huge fire. The fire department is out here now.”

  “The car—did it belong to someone from the Rez? Or was it stolen?”

  “Can’t say yet.”

  “Where’s the big guy?” she asked.

  “Branch is sitting inside his Mercedes in his pajamas. He’s fine. He got out okay.”

  “Pajamas, huh? Be thankful he doesn’t sleep in the buff.”

  “Now there’s an image I could do without,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I’ll be there shortly,” she said.

  Ella gave Dawn a quick hug and a kiss, then smiled at Boots. “You take good care of her. Thank you.” Ella glanced over at Rose, who’d just come inside after putting a soaker hose in her garden. “I may be late again tonight, Mom.”

  “Take care of yourself, Daughter. Remember, you’re famous now. I’ll keep checking the news to see if any other stations are doing your story. Want me to record it for you if they do?”

  Ella scowled, then noticed her mother was trying to avoid cracking a smile. “Yes, Mother, definitely. Check every station to make sure.”

  Ella drove directly to Branch’s house, located outside the reservation boundaries and northeast of where the Hunts had lived. If the car’s owner lived on the Rez, then this incident would be a jurisdictional nightmare.

  The smoke from Branch’s house could be seen for miles, a bit reminiscent of the plume from the coal power plant, which had polluted the area for years before filters had been added. But this smoke was black and oily-looking, not the white, feathery plume she remembered. As she got closer she could see the frame of a sedan protruding from the front of the old farmhouse, which faced the road. Bright orange and yellow flames enveloped the pitched roof and shot out the window openings. The glass had already been blown out.

  Several vehicles were beside the road, the drivers watching the action. Another vehicle, a Mercedes, was on the property but well back from the ho
use beside an old apple orchard that had seen better days.

  As Ella pulled up beside two county sheriffs’ cars, she saw Sheriff Taylor standing behind the fire truck with several firemen. It was the same station that had responded to the fire at the Hunts’ and she recognized some of the men immediately.

  Ella climbed out of her vehicle and walked toward them, curious to find out why they were standing there instead of fighting the fire. Taylor saw her and motioned for her to stay low.

  She’d only gone another step when she realized what Taylor was signaling to her. A series of loud pops and whistling sounds like bottle rockets sent her crouching low to the ground. Then she remembered Branch’s gun collection. He’d had several wooden gun cabinets in his living room, she recalled from a previous visit, and even more in what Branch called his gun room. He’d never let her really see them, mostly because she’d never had a warrant to check. Now ammo stored in the house was going off, but fortunately it didn’t seem like Branch had any explosives on hand. Ella ran back and ducked behind her SUV.

  A few minutes later, after the noise had died down again somewhat, Sheriff Taylor ran over to join her. “It’s not as bad as what you all encountered at Smiley’s place. There haven’t been any big explosions, but no one can get close because of the arsenal he kept in his house.”

  “Who decided to play torpedo with the Dodge Stratus?” Ella asked.

  “The fire has obscured some of the tag, so all we have is a partial. Once it’s safe, we can go take a closer look. Whoever was driving either bailed or is extremely dead.”

  “Where’s Branch?”

  Taylor pointed. “Behind the house in the orchard, still in the Mercedes. Special Agent Payestewa came down from Farmington as soon as he heard the call. He questioned Branch immediately when he got here, but the only substantial thing we got was that Branch saw a truck speeding away from here when he ran outside. That was just after the Dodge went through the front wall.”

  “Interesting. So we’re talking two suspects doing a smash and grab on a residence. Vehicle number two was for the getaway. Were any guns stolen? Did Branch take a look before he had to leave the structure?”

  “I don’t know. We need to continue to interview him, but we thought we’d give him a few minutes to get himself together before we try again.” Taylor shook his head sadly. “I understand the man had a lot of historic weapons in there. Hate to see them go like this.”

  “I saw a few one time. Quality firearms, all right. If you’re willing, I’ll continue the interview with Branch. I may be able to get something else from him we can use.”

  “Give it a shot then.”

  As Ella approached the luxury sedan parked beside a gnarled old apple tree gray with age, she saw Branch’s face. He was still in shock. He was staring at the fire, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

  She came over and tapped on the passenger-side window with her knuckle.

  Branch jumped. Seeing it was her, he relaxed and nodded. “Get in.”

  Ella opened the door and sat down on the plush leather seat. A Mercedes even smelled classy. As she looked over at Branch she noticed that his face was the color of ashes and his breathing unsteady. Wondering if he was all right, she watched him carefully. Branch was a large, heavy man and years of carrying that much bulk around couldn’t have done his heart any good. For the first time in her life she felt a little sorry for him.

  “Do you want me to call the paramedics to check you out? This must have scared you witless.”

  “It did, but I’m okay. Don’t call anyone.”

  “Were you in bed when it happened?”

  “No, flannel pajamas and slippers are this year’s sportswear,” he snapped. “What else do you think I’d be doing at six-thirty in the morning, for Pete’s sake! I was sound asleep, then I heard what I thought was a crack of thunder so loud it made the house shake. When I came out of the bedroom I saw the car right there in my living room. Dust was everywhere and the damn engine was still running. I was so pissed off I went over to drag the driver out of the car. He was already gone. I ran outside to look for him and that’s when I saw a truck speeding off.”

  “So you went back inside, right?”

  Branch nodded. “But the living room was on fire by then. I grabbed my cell phone from the kitchen counter and ran back outside to call the police and fire department. After that, I walked around the house to see if there was some way I could go back in and save something. But the smoke was too thick.”

  “People don’t usually ram somebody’s house with their vehicles on purpose, but then again, you have a knack for pissing people off. Any thoughts on that?”

  “Well, there’s no way this could have been an accident. My house is a hundred yards from the road, and anyone losing control on the highway would have crashed through the fence at the angle they left the road. Besides, the driver had somebody waiting for him so he could make a getaway.”

  “I agree. So do you have any idea who might have done this?”

  “No, not really.” As he shook his head a rivulet of perspiration ran down his forehead. He wiped it away impatiently with the back of his hand. “Don’t just sit there,” he said, shifting restlessly. “Go and find the lunatic who demolished my life. Everything I’ve worked for was inside that house. My gun collection alone represents twenty years’ worth of acquisitions.”

  “Did you notice if anything was taken from your home after the car hit?”

  “None of the gun cabinets had been opened, though flying debris had broken some of the glass fronts. The TV and sound systems were still there, that’s where the sparks were coming from. Everything happened so fast.” Branch gave a long sigh and wiped the perspiration from his forehead again.

  It was cool in the car, so the heat wasn’t a factor here. “Just relax and take deep breaths,” she said, concerned. “I’ll call a rescue unit and let the EMTs take a look at you. It can’t hurt.”

  “Clah, I’m fine. Give it a rest. What I need now is a little justice for the crime that’s been committed against me.”

  Ella focused on his breathing and realized it was more uneven now. “You’re a heavy man. All this stress . . .”

  “What are you trying to do, harass me into having a heart attack? If I were out of the way it would make things a lot easier for touchy-feely cops like you.”

  The biting comment, though typical of Branch, irritated her enough to drive away any compassion she’d felt. “Have it your way.”

  As she climbed out of the car and walked back toward the fire truck, Sheriff Taylor came up to meet her. “No more ammo has gone off for a while and the fire crew is making some progress. We should be able to go in and take a look around within fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Great.”

  “What did you get from Branch?” he asked, his gaze on the firemen manning hoses and attacking the fire.

  Ella told him what she’d learned and the likelihood that robbery wasn’t a motive. “What about the plates on the Dodge? Have you got anything on that yet?”

  “Yeah. The vehicle’s registered to Arlene Hunt. She’s the dead woman from Waterflow, right?”

  “Yeah. We can safely say she wasn’t driving,” Ella noted acerbically. “Arlene was in a wheelchair so I don’t know if she could drive at all. My guess is that this is the second vehicle that the nurse’s aide, Louise Sorrelhorse, drove. But I do remember Louise saying that Arlene’s brother, Cardell Benally, borrowed it from time to time.”

  “How fast can you check on both their whereabouts?” Taylor asked.

  “I’ll do it right now,” Ella said, then called Justine and told her what she needed.

  “I’ll get on it,” Justine answered, then disconnected.

  As Ella put the phone away she glanced around. There was another house close to the highway beside the road leading to Branch’s home. That’s where she wanted to go next, but she was out of her jurisdiction. “I’d like to talk to the residents of that
house,” she said to the sheriff and pointed.

  “Okay, but take one of my deputies just to keep it legal,” he said.

  “How about her?” Ella asked, pointing to a woman deputy who was studying the ground searching for evidence.

  “Sergeant Emily Marquez is a top-notch cop. She patrols this sector now and our new policy has field officers actively involved in investigating crimes committed in their areas.”

  As she walked toward Sergeant Marquez, Ella heard one of the firemen mumble something about “Detective Lazarus.” Ella exhaled softly. So the stories had followed her out here, too. Hopefully, she’d be old news soon and comments like that would stop once and for all.

  “Hi, I’m Investigator Ella Clah from the Tribal Police,” Ella said, offering Emily her hand.

  Emily shook it and smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you lately.”

  Ella decided not to comment. “I’d like you to accompany me for a few minutes. I want to question the neighbors and find out if they saw anything. Will what you’re doing wait?”

  “Yeah. I’m just searching for footprints, and others can do that just as well. We know that the driver climbed out of the car once he crashed through the wall. Since there was no gap between the car and the wall for him to slip out, he escaped through the front door.”

  “This won’t take long,” Ella said.

  “Did Sheriff Taylor okay this?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t,” Ella said. “You ready to roll?”

  “That’s my cruiser,” Marquez said, pointing to a county squad car less than twenty feet away.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Okay. Hey, since we’re riding together, do you think some of your incredibly good luck will rub off on me? I heard all about you and that accident at the mine.”

  Ella looked at her in surprise, noting the difference between Anglo and Navajo ways, then laughed. “If I’d been really lucky, I wouldn’t have fallen into that mine in the first place.”