by Aimée
“Jeremiah won’t blab it around. I trust him.”
“I’m not willing to join in with that trust, so don’t let me hear about the department’s dirty laundry from him again.”
A long silence stretched out as they reached the turnoff to Window Rock, entering some of the more beautiful piñon and juniper hills and rock formations on the reservation. Soon they would pass through the Navajo capital on the way to their Arizona destination.
At long last, after Ella’s temper had finally subsided, she spoke again. “By the way, Samuel Begaye is at large. I got the warning from the Marshals Service yesterday. They suspect he’s in the area and may come after us. Remember the threats he made when we tracked him down?”
Justine nodded. “He’s stupid enough to come after us instead of going underground. I’ll keep a sharp eye out.” Justine paused. “Is that why you didn’t want to leave Rose and Dawn?”
“Partly.” The truth was, she didn’t see Begaye as one who’d watch their house before striking. He acted first, then thought about it later. But there was always that one chance in a million.
“Why did you wait to tell me about Begaye?”
The question irritated Ella. “I left half a dozen calls for you yesterday, but you never called me back, though you know members of our SI team are required to stay in contact. And today we haven’t stopped arguing long enough for me to say anything.”
Instead of apologizing, Justine lapsed into silence, playing with the radio volume again. Ella glanced at her assistant, then back out the window. There had to be more to Justine’s attitude than the shooting incident and the aftermath. She was wound tighter than a drum all the time these days, like she was drinking too much coffee, or was on uppers. But Ella knew Justine well enough to rule out anything such as amphetamines. She barely even drank beer, except at social events.
Hoping to get her to relax a bit, Ella tried to speak in as casual a tone as possible without appearing patronizing. “What can you tell me about your aunt? I know that she’s a traditionalist, of course, but I don’t recall anyone in your family ever saying much about her. It would help to know a little bit about what she’s like before talking to her,” Ella said.
“I really don’t know much about Aunt Lena. I haven’t seen my father’s sister since I was about Dawn’s age, and my mom has only seen her a few times at ceremonials.”
Ella nodded. It wasn’t unusual. The father’s family usually didn’t play an important role in a kid’s life.
“I know that my mother’s side of the family believes she’s gifted at stargazing,” Justine continued. “But most of them think she’s a little strange, too. These days she lives in a really lonely part of the Rez. From the way I’ve heard her home described, I can tell you that she doesn’t live at the end of the world—but one can see it from there.”
Ella laughed. Finally the old Justine was returning, at least a little bit.
Justine smiled hesitantly. “I sure wouldn’t live so far away from town. For Aunt Lena, even going to the trading post for a can of pork and beans must take an hour or so, even by pickup.”
“They don’t usually buy cans of beans,” Ella said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah. They cook them from scratch, for hours. But I’ve got to tell you, I tried it once, using my mom’s pressure cooker. Maybe it’s just because I’m used to eating the ones from the can, but mine tasted really gross.”
Ella laughed. “At home Mom’s the one who can cook. I just warm things up.”
“Do you ever feel that if you don’t get your own place soon, you’ll go crazy?” Justine asked. “Every time I make plans to move out, something happens like Mom getting sick, and I end up staying home.”
Ella began to suspect that this was the source of Justine’s tension. “It’s different for me, Justine. I lived off the Rez for several years, the last few in Los Angeles in an apartment.”
“While you were working for the FBI,” Justine finished.
“Yeah. When I came back I realized how much I needed my family. Returning to the Rez wasn’t easy for me.”
“Particularly because of the circumstances,” Justine said.
Ella recalled her father’s murder and shuddered. “It was a very hard time for all of us.” She decided to keep their conversation on the present. “But these days, Mom takes care of Dawn while I’m at work, and we’re all pretty happy.”
“Your life has been a lot different from mine,” Justine commented. “I need to get my own place soon. I’ve been reluctant to leave Mom alone, but Ruth and Jayne are always over, so Mom should be okay.”
“Have you been having a problem getting along with Angela?”
Justine shrugged. “I’m too old to have to tell anyone where I’m going and when I’ll be back. It’s annoying.”
Ella heard the edge in Justine’s voice. “Parents and family have a difficult time adjusting to the fact that police work has no real hours, especially when you do fieldwork. You burn the candle at both ends working on several cases at a time. Then, for no reason at all, things will slow down and days will go by when all you do is paperwork and pray that something will happen soon.”
“It’s hard to find anyone outside the PD who can understand that and put up with it, isn’t it?” Justine asked rhetorically.
Ella nodded. “That’s one of the reasons why there’s a high rate of divorce in our profession.”
“It may be hard for a cop to find a way to keep from being lonely, but what we go through is nothing in comparison to my aunt Lena’s life,” Justine said. “When I got this letter, I couldn’t help but wonder if she hasn’t gone a little crazy living out there all these years. Mom agreed.”
As their car radio crackled, Ella picked up the mike. Dispatch came through, though the signal wavered from the distance and terrain. The Navajo cop who patrolled the area would not be able to meet them at Lena Clani’s on time. Someone had flattened all his tires when he’d stopped for coffee in Chinle. It would be a couple of hours before he was up and running again.
“I don’t remember hearing about much vandalism on this area of the Rez,” Justine muttered.
“Nor I,” Ella answered, “though Chinle has had some gang problems, like Shiprock.” She remembered the words from Coyote warning her of a conspiracy. Having police officers become targets for harassment could turn out to be a sign of that. She thought of discussing it with Justine, then changed her mind. Her cousin’s state of mind was barely back to normal. Until she was more sure of her, she wouldn’t risk bringing up any new topics.
Ella had never been to this particular part of the Rez, west of Ganado and bordering the southeastern corner of the Hopi Reservation south of Keams Canyon, Arizona. She studied a detailed map, and motioned for Justine to turn up a dirt track listed as a primitive road.
They continued up the bumpy path for an eternity when Ella finally spotted a solitary hogan off in the distance. At least two miles to the west of it, in a small valley on Hopi land, was a small wood-framed house and a metal water tank. Although the wooden house was within sight of the hogan, it was miles away culturally.
Both on the Navajo and the Hopi side, the land was filled with sagebrush and stunted junipers, and it seemed as inhospitable an area of the Rez as she’d ever seen. It was certain that the people living there were often snowed in during winter, or trapped by mud when the thaw came.
The bad road forced Justine to proceed slowly as they approached the hogan. White smoke flowed easily from the metal pipe protruding from the center of the roof. Ella looked around, getting the feeling that something was wrong, though she couldn’t see anything out of place or even remotely suspicious. A small split-log corral was fifty feet away from the hogan, and several sheep could be seen a hundred yards farther in the brush, grazing, along with two shaggy ponies. A large water barrel rested on a platform of cinder blocks at the end of the two ruts they were following.
Looking around for signs of trouble, Ella suddenly saw a f
igure race around the side of the hogan and scramble down into an arroyo, dropping out of sight.
“Did you see that?” Justine said. “That can’t be Aunt Lena.”
“Yeah, get as close as you can, then I’ll go after him on foot while you go check on your aunt,” Ella said.
Justine drove another fifty feet closer, then slammed on the brakes. Ella leaped out. “I’ll try and track him. If your aunt’s okay, come back my direction and honk if you spot him.”
Ella looked down the arroyo and saw the tracks of the running man leading toward the fence separating Navajo and Hopi land. She began jogging along the top, following the tracks below as they led along the sandy bottom of the narrow wash. It didn’t take long to verify where the man was going. After running at least a quarter mile along the top of the arroyo, Ella stopped.
Just ahead was a fence line, and parallel to it on both sides was a dirt track. Ella looked around for Justine’s police unit. Justine was now away from the hogan and driving in her direction along the Navajo side of the fence. But it was already too late. Ella could see a running figure on the other side, safe on Hopi land, after having crossed through a culvert beneath the fence line.
Her prey looked and ran like a man, but other than knowing he had dark hair and was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, no other description was possible at that distance. Ella jogged up to the fence, considered climbing it, then changed her mind. She didn’t need the kind of trouble that would bring.
Justine pulled up in her car seconds later. “I never saw him. Did he cross over the fence?”
“Yes, and he’s probably headed toward that house. All I caught was a glimpse of him about fifty feet into Hopi land. If I’d have gone after him, I would have been the one in trouble because that’s out of our jurisdiction. The guy would have brought in the Hopi cops for sure and that would have created no end of trouble.”
“For the chief, too,” Justine said, agreeing. “Let’s go back to my aunt’s hogan. Maybe she’ll know more.”
Three minutes later as they pulled up to the log hogan, Lena Clani came out and waved at them. Justine got out first and approached her aunt, who was dressed in a long, heavy skirt, long-sleeved blouse, and a blanket draped like a shawl.
The woman was approximately Justine’s mother’s age, and wore several turquoise rings on her fingers, and a silver bracelet. Her hands were long and delicate, and there were orange stains on her fingertips.
Ella followed a few steps behind, deciding to let Justine make the initial contact. Signs of trust might help Justine regain some of her self-confidence.
Both niece and aunt seemed guarded and cautious around each other, just what Ella expected from a traditionalist facing a member of the family who was in such a modernist profession.
Lena invited Justine and her inside and then offered them metal mugs of hot coffee as they sat on sheepskins inside the hogan.
“We saw someone running away when we first drove up. Did you see him?” Justine asked.
“No, I was playing the radio while I was chopping up some carrots for a pot of mutton stew. The only sound I heard was you approaching. But I’m not surprised. The Hopis have been trying to make things difficult for me.”
“Would you tell us about the water problem you’ve been having, Aunt?” Justine asked.
Lena walked to the entrance of the hogan. “Do you see that water storage tank beside the house across the way?” Seeing Ella and Justine nod, she continued. “Behind the tank is a big water pump that runs on electricity. It all belongs to the Hopi family who lives there. They didn’t have that well or pump last year. My water was fine then. I think what started all this was that the Hopi began pumping too much, lowering the water table. I’m not the only one with a shallow well that’s starting to run dry.”
“But why would someone from that house come over and vandalize your little hand pump?” Justine asked. “They’re getting all the water they want.”
“They don’t want to share, and they want to force me out. But I was here first.”
“So you believe the trouble is caused by that Hopi family?” Ella asked.
“Yes, but also from the other families who live over on the next mesa. The Hopi consider all this land theirs, despite all the arguing and lawyers and politicians. They want the Navajos gone. But it’s not going to happen. This is my land and I’m not moving. So go arrest them. If you put them in jail, maybe that will scare them and they’ll stop vandalizing my pump and using up all the water.”
“We don’t have jurisdiction over the Hopi unless we catch them doing something wrong on this side of the fence, Aunt. We’ll have to go through the legal system.” Justine started to explain, but her aunt shook her head.
“Don’t give me fancy excuses, niece. My water level drops every time the Hopis start their pumps. You can hear them running at night. The water I need to live is being stolen from me faster than the rain can replace it. And they keep breaking my pump so I can’t even get my share of what’s there.”
“What your niece has just told you is true. We have to catch them doing something wrong,” Ella tried to explain, but again Lena interrupted.
“But you’re police officers, and you’re supposed to protect the Dineh,” Lena added.
“We still can’t break the law,” Justine said.
“But it’s okay for them to break it?”
“We’ll file a complaint with their police department. That’s what Justine meant about going through the legal system,” Ella pointed out.
“Then you’ll arrest them?”
Ella sighed and looked at Justine. “Here’s the way it has to go. We’ll tell the Hopi Police Department what’s going on, and who we think might be responsible. But if any arrests are to be made, they’ll have to make them.”
“The Hopis aren’t going to arrest their own people,” Lena protested.
“They might. We do, when one of the Dineh breaks the law,” Justine said. “But we just can’t go over and arrest a member of the Hopi tribe.”
“This is shameful. My own niece is telling me she won’t help me!” Lena said.
“We will help you,” Ella said. “We’ll take a look at the pump. If it’s been vandalized again and needs repairs, we’ll be glad to drive you to the trading post so you can order or buy what you need to fix it.”
Lena shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I have a neighbor at Steamboat who comes by once a week and gives me a ride to Ganado.”
“Okay. In that case, we’ll go check the pump, and if there’s a problem, we’ll try to rig up something for you,” Ella said.
As Lena led them outside to the pump, Justine studied the area. “Start keeping a written record of the times you can’t pump water, Aunt, or when you notice that the flow is low. You might also consider getting yourself a couple of mean-looking dogs to watch over your place when you’re asleep or away from the hogan.”
“And that’s the best you can do for your own relative?”
“I’ll try to talk to the tribal authorities and see what else can be done but legally, our hands are tied.” Justine sighed.
“I’m your father’s sister. Isn’t helping family important to modernists like you?”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Justine answered patiently.
“Didn’t your mother raise you to stick up for your own, even your father’s side of the family? I’m not only a member of the tribe deserving protection, I’m your aunt. I bring you a problem that threatens my home, and my entire life, and all you can do is tell me about the law, like you would for a stranger.”
“I’m truly sorry, Aunt. I can’t do anything else. Family or not.”
“This isn’t the last you’ll hear about this. I will tell your father and mother and all the members of your clan how little respect you’ve shown me today.”
Lena motioned toward Ella. “I heard stories about this woman. She’s a modernist like you, but when her family was threatened, at leas
t she helped. She returned to her home when her mother needed her. You should be more like her.”
Ella stared at Lena, shocked that Justine’s aunt would say that about someone she’d never even met, but Justine’s reaction was even more pronounced. Her young partner looked stunned.
Justine’s voice was strained, a pitch higher than normal. “I came as soon as I received your letter, and I even brought my supervisor. That should tell you that I do have respect for you. But I can’t give you what isn’t mine to give. The law is the law, and this isn’t just the Anglo way. These rules are from the Tribal Council, and I can’t break them.”
Justine looked at Ella, who nodded in approval.
“I just don’t understand you, niece,” Lena said, and strode back to the hogan.
“You could have said something,” Justine grumbled.
“There was nothing for me to add. You were absolutely right about the law and the procedures we have to follow. But maybe we should talk to Kevin. He’s an attorney for the tribe, and he’ll be up on things like this. He may be able to suggest something else you can do to help your aunt.”
Ella and Justine studied the pump. A connecting bolt had been removed and stolen, and the handle was on the ground. After looking around a moment, Ella found a big nail they could use to reattach the handle. Using a rock, they bent the nail so it wouldn’t fall out, then trying the handle, were able to pump water.
“That should hold temporarily. But it won’t last for long.” Ella looked at Justine, who nodded.
“I’ll write down the pump brand and make a quick sketch of the handle, showing which part is missing. I’ll give it to my aunt, and she can get a replacement bolt or something that will be more permanent than that nail.” Justine pulled out a small notebook from her shirt pocket and began to sketch the pump handle.
A few minutes later, Justine took the sketch to her aunt in the hogan while Ella walked back to the unit.
Justine came out several moments later, anger on her face and hurt in her eyes. “I just can’t do anything right as far as she’s concerned,” Justine muttered, opening her car door. “You just have the magic touch, Ella.”
