by Aimée
“Good morning, Angela,” Ella said, recognizing Justine’s mother’s voice. “I’m sorry to call so early, but I need to talk to Justine.”
“She’s already gone. Lately she’s been having an early breakfast with a friend of hers.”
“Is she at the Totah Cafe?”
“No, I believe they meet at his place.”
The news surprised her. She hadn’t known that Justine was seeing anyone that regularly. “Thanks, Angela. I guess I’ll talk to her later at work.”
Ella went into the kitchen and saw Rose was already fixing Dawn breakfast.
“Hi, Mom,” Ella said softly, then went to give her daughter a hug. Dawn was sitting in a small wooden rocking chair Kevin had made for her, wearing her blue toddler-sized sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. She loved to rock back and forth, but the motion usually moved her around on the linoleum floor, so she could start by the sink and soon wind up halfway to the living room. When Dawn rocked, Rose would sometimes sing to her in Navajo, and Dawn was picking up some of the Navajo words already.
Ella grabbed a tortilla, smeared it with butter, then gave Dawn a bite from the tortilla, and a big hug and kiss, and headed to the door. “I’m going to get an early start today. There’s a lot of pressing business I need to look into.”
“If you find out what’s going on, let me know,” Rose said.
“I will, but I don’t expect any simple answers.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m saying that. I have nothing to go on.”
“Of course you do. Your intuition is a gift, daughter.”
Ella shrugged, then, with a wave, stepped outside. The fact was that this was more than just intuition, but she didn’t want to alarm her mother. A cop learned to put little, seemingly unrelated incidents together and weave them into a whole until things became clear. She’d been doing that slowly, and the picture that was emerging made her skin crawl. Something big was happening, but she had no idea what it was or how to stop it.
Though it was out of her way, Ella stopped by the vet’s in Shiprock first. She would start by checking on what had happened to Two. The doctor, a young, enthusiastic-looking Anglo working off a student loan by working on the Rez, confirmed Ella’s worst suspicions.
“The dog food was laced with rat poison,” he said. “It’s a good thing he hadn’t eaten much and I was able to pump out his stomach in time. Has anyone in your household been trying to get rid of rodents lately?”
“No. My mother would never kill anything. She uses live traps and relocates any rodent that comes into the house. But in all fairness, we don’t get very many. I think Two keeps them at bay.”
“Then you think the poisoning was deliberate, maybe by a neighbor?”
“Something like that,” Ella said. It wouldn’t have been a neighbor. There wasn’t anyone who lived that close except for Clifford, and her brother loved that dog.
“I’ll let you know if I hear of any other poisoning incidents,” the vet said. “I don’t have a lot of experience with circumstances like these on the Rez, but usually they turn out to be more than an isolated incident. Somebody gets tired of barking dogs or there’s a biting incident and they decide to shoot or poison the animals in the neighborhood. It goes on for a while until the individual is caught or the anger subsides. Or the other alternative is that it’s a reaction to a problem dog who’s coming into the neighbor’s land and harassing their livestock.”
“I doubt that either’s the case here,” Ella answered, not elaborating. The vet didn’t need to know that it was probably linked to the break-in.
As she left the vet’s office, Ella decided to make a stop by the hospital and pay Doctor Carolyn Roanhorse a visit. As the tribe’s only forensic pathologist, Carolyn lived a lonely life, ostracized by most in the tribe. The People believed that someone who had physical contact with the dead couldn’t help but be contaminated by the chindi, the evil in a man that remained earthbound after death.
Except for routine hospital work, Ella knew that this wasn’t a particularly busy time for her friend. The tribe had enjoyed a time of peace since the incident last year with the terrorists.
Ella parked near the rear doors, then went directly to Carolyn’s office down in the basement beside the morgue. Her large and outwardly intimidating friend was reading a trade journal and drinking some coffee.
“Hey, it looks like I caught you at a good time,” Ella said.
“It’s slow.” Carolyn smiled. “During times like this I really wish I could help the doctors upstairs, but a lot of the patients don’t feel comfortable with me around.”
“What are you doing to keep busy?”
“Running lab tests for the staff, consulting with the doctors, and that sort of thing. I’m also catching up on my technical reading.” She studied Ella for a long moment. “But this isn’t a casual, friendly visit, is it?”
Ella shrugged. “Yes and no. I haven’t been able to visit with you lately, and I wanted to drop by. But that’s not the only reason.”
“Trouble?” Carolyn sat up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. Ella noticed Carolyn’s long hair was arranged into a bun as usual, but she had a silver barrette holding it together and was wearing lipstick and a subtle, flowery perfume. Usually Carolyn was indifferent to makeup.
“Someone poisoned Two, and picked a time when Clifford was unable to help out. My mom had to take the dog to a vet in order to save him. That same day we had a break-in, but nothing we know of was stolen except a diet cola and an apple or two. When things that don’t add up start happening, I get worried.”
“You think something bigger is brewing?”
“I feel … trouble in the air. I can’t be more specific than that. But you know my hunches are seldom wrong. Has anything unusual been happening here at the hospital?”
Carolyn shook her head. “Not recently. Everything’s pretty quiet. This time of year, people are busy getting ready for winter.”
“If anything comes up—anything at all—let me know, will you?”
“Sure. I’ll even ask around upstairs and see if anything new is going on.”
“Thanks, Carolyn.”
“How’s Dawn and your mother?”
“Mom still won’t let me hire anyone to come in and help, and that has me a little concerned. I’m afraid that Dawn will be too much for Mom, and that she may not admit it to me before disaster strikes.”
Carolyn shook her head. “Rose would naturally be slow to admit she can’t keep up with a toddler, but if she discovers that she needs help, she’ll find a way to let you know.”
“I still worry about her. Her legs have given her problems since the accident, and with cold weather coming on soon, the aches will get worse.” Ella stood up. “But enough of that. I better get going.”
“I’ve heard that Justine has been having problems at work getting along with people, especially you. Is there any truth to that rumor?”
“It’s impossible to keep anything under wraps on this reservation,” Ella said, and rolled her eyes. “To answer your question, yes, Justine and I have been having a few problems, but we’ll work them out.”
“Just remember that Justine’s feeling more secure as a cop now that she’s earned her own place in the department. She may begin to feel that she’s in your shadow and needs to prove she’s just as good as you are. I’ve seen that happen here with young residents and the teaching staff.”
Ella shook her head. “No, that’s not quite it. We had a misunderstanding. Normally we would have worked it out quickly, but I think Justine’s having some personal problems and whatever’s going on is really affecting her work. I might talk to my cousin Angela and try to find out what’s going on. I’m certain she’d know, but whether or not she’ll tell me is another matter. She’s always been very protective of her daughters.”
“Good luck.” As her phone began to ring, Carolyn returned to work, and Ella waved silently, leaving the room.
Ella walked bac
k out to her unit. Things looked peaceful around her, the air was fresh and clear, and the leaves were still on the trees. But there was an undercurrent of evil that was sending its spiderlike tendrils through everything around her. People were getting ugly and bad things were starting to happen. Wondering what was at the heart of it, and how long it would take for her to find answers, she headed back to her office.
* * *
Ella had just maneuvered into a parking space at the station when she got a call from dispatch, instructing her to switch to tactical frequency two for a message from FBI agent Blalock. She reached down and complied immediately.
“SI One now on TAC two. Go ahead, Fed One.”
“This is Fed One. Ella, what’s your ’twenty?”
“Just arrived at the main station, Fed One. What’s going on?”
“I’d like your backup before checking out a Rez house just east of Hogback. We’re searching for a Navajo male bank robbery suspect. Your Sergeant Neskahi spotted a yellow sedan with the perp’s license number and called us. He’s got the vehicle under surveillance now at the white farmhouse, one mile east of where the old Turquoise Bar stood. The farmhouse is on the south side of the highway.”
“Ten-four, Fed One. Has the suspect been observed?”
“Negative. Just the vehicle. No one has been seen in or near the farmhouse, either. We need to go search the premises. The suspect is of medium height and weight, Native American with very short hair, wearing a blue jacket and jeans.”
“Ten-four. That description isn’t very helpful. What’s your ’twenty and what kind of backup do you have?”
“Agent Payestewa and I are in our vehicles a half mile west of the farmhouse. What’s your ETA?” Blalock asked.
“Less than ten minutes if I hustle. I’ll pass the farmhouse, then come back from the east. Once you see me go by, make your move.”
“Sounds good, Clah. Neskahi will drive behind the house and cover the rear. We’ll take the front and west sides. Be careful. The suspect indicated he was armed, though no weapon was seen during the robbery.”
Blalock had good tactical training. In that respect the FBI Academy couldn’t be beat. His plan seemed a reasonable alternative to waiting an hour or more for a SWAT team to assemble, and it was well thought out. If luck stayed on their side, it would be a smooth operation.
With her unmarked Jeep, Ella knew she wouldn’t alarm anyone watching from the farmhouse, but she was careful not to stare when she drove past. Sergeant Neskahi’s white police unit was hidden by some brush, and as he recognized her vehicle passing by, she saw him get on the move.
Ella waited for a civilian vehicle to pass her, then quickly turned around in a wide stretch of road and headed back toward the farmhouse.
Neskahi was already moving down the lane past the farmhouse when she pulled into the driveway. Ahead, Blalock’s vehicle was coming to a halt almost at the front porch, and another she assumed was Agent Payestewa’s moved up to the west side of the house, covering that side.
Ella left her Jeep, pulling out her own weapon about the same time as Blalock stepped up beside the front door. Out of the left corner of her eye, she could see Neskahi emerging from his own unit, shotgun ready.
Ella checked for signs of someone at the two windows on the east side of the house, noted both were curtained and closed, then ran to the northeast corner to cover Blalock.
“Open up! FBI,” Blalock yelled, keeping one eye on the window to his right. Ella was watching the one to his left, and somewhere, out of sight, Payestewa was covering the west side.
“Woman by the front door!” The Hopi agent poked his head around the northwest corner. “She looks unarmed.”
Blalock nodded, and stepped back as the door slowly opened, his pistol ready. “FBI agent, ma’am. Please step outside.”
Ella watched as a thin, frightened-looking Navajo woman in her late fifties opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. She was wearing a cotton dress with no belt at her waist, and high-topped shoes with white socks. “What’s going on, Officers? Are you looking for the man from that car?” Her voice was shaking as she gestured toward the suspect vehicle underneath a nearby cottonwood tree.
“Yes. Is he here?” Blalock kept looking back and forth from the woman to the open door.
“No. He said the car wasn’t running right and left it there. He ran off about a half hour ago, heading toward the Hogback Trading Post. He said he had a friend there who would drive over and fix it for him.”
“Is there anyone else at home with you?” Ella asked, stepping closer, but still keeping an eye on the side of the house.
“No, I’m alone. That’s why I wouldn’t let the man in. He looked like he might be dangerous. Did he hurt somebody? Is that why you’re looking for him?” the woman asked, brushing a lock of thinning black hair away from her face.
Blalock nodded. “You did the right thing by not letting him in. Was he carrying something, like a paper bag?” Blalock relaxed slightly, but still kept an eye on the door. Payestewa had moved close enough that he could hear the conversation, too, and Ella could see Neskahi by the rear corner of the building.
“When he ran off, he stopped by the car to get a paper sack. How did you know?” the woman asked.
“That’s what the perp had the teller put the money in,” Blalock said, looking at Ella, who nodded.
“Would you allow us to search your house?” Ella asked. “I’m Investigator Clah with the Tribal Police. Sometimes a suspect you think has gone off is really hidden close by.” Ella wanted to make sure the woman wasn’t under duress, or a friend of the perp lying to get them to leave.
“Go ahead, Officers. But I’d like to go with you. I don’t let anyone just wander around my home without me being there, too.”
Ella looked at Blalock, who nodded, knowing why she wanted to check out the residence. “We’ll look together,” Ella told the woman.
“You might want to take the sergeant and check out the Trading Post,” Ella said to Blalock. “Maybe the perp switched cars.”
“Good idea.” Blalock waved Agent Payestewa over. “Lucas, check out the car, then look for footprints. Maybe he circled around or took off down by the river.”
“I get the job because we Hopis are good trackers, right, boss?” Payestewa cracked.
“No, Lucas, it’s because I’m in charge here, and if there’s going to be a confrontation at the Trading Post, I’ve had more experience in a firefight. So has the sergeant.”
“Well, I am a good tracker.” Payestewa shrugged and walked toward the suspect’s car, weapon out on the off chance he was hiding inside.
Blalock got Neskahi and they took off in a hurry in Blalock’s vehicle. Ella watched until Payestewa waved that the car was clear, then she went inside with the Navajo woman to check out the house.
Five minutes later, Ella had verified that the woman wasn’t hiding anyone inside, and that she’d never seen the suspect before. As she was giving Ella a description of the man, Ella realized that it fit Samuel Begaye down to the scar on the back of his wrist. Suddenly a call came though on Ella’s handheld radio.
“He’s long gone, Ella. One of the clerks at the Trading Post just discovered his pickup has been stolen. Neskahi is calling the Shiprock station, and they have officers checking the area now. I’ll be back there in a few minutes, and we’ll add what the woman knows to our information on the perp.”
A half hour later, Ella was driving back toward Shiprock. Blalock and Payestewa were off pursuing the lead they had on the stolen vehicle, armed with the knowledge that the bank robber was probably Samuel Begaye, the escaped federal fugitive Harry Ute was after. Photos from a bank camera would verify that, and while they waited for that evidence to be turned over to them and processed, mug shots of Begaye were going to be shown to all the eyewitnesses. Harry Ute would be contacted, too, so they could better coordinate the manhunt.
Ella headed away from the scene knowing that Begaye’s days as a fugi
tive were numbered.
NINE
It was just after noon by the time she arrived at the station. Ella saw a dozen or so people gathered around the entrance, and she recognized a few of them from the disturbance at Window Rock. It was clear that Zah’s relatives were lining up in moral support. But from the looks of it, the victim’s family was also calling in the troops. Several Navajos were in the parking lot beside two pickups, and it looked like they had signs to wield.
Ella entered the building quickly after an officer stationed at the entrance unlocked the door for her. One way or another, she wanted to stay out of it this time unless it got out of hand. She had enough work to do today.
As Ella walked down the hall to her office, she saw a tall man in baggy black pants and polyester jacket leaning against the wall beside Justine’s office door. As she got closer, Ella recognized Paul Natoni. The good-looking, oily-haired lowlife in his mid-twenties had a history of gang connections and misdemeanor jail time as a youth, though he’d never been convicted of anything, to her knowledge at least.
“Natoni, can I help you with something?”
“No, I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“The jail’s visiting rooms are on the other side of the building.”
“You always assume the worst.” He smiled patronizingly, folding his arms across his L.A. Raiders sports jacket. “For your information, I’m right where I should be.”
“Oh, really? What are you waiting for, then?”
“I don’t have to answer you. I’m not under arrest.”
“Not yet,” Ella answered. “But you’re not supposed to be back here without an officer present.”
“You’re an officer, unless you just got fired.”
“If you fail to answer my question, I’ll have to ask you to leave the building.”
“Threats?”
“No, reality. I’ll repeat. What are you doing here?”
“You’re wasting your time. All you need to know is that I haven’t broken any laws.”
