Red Mesa

by Aimée

  “Fair enough.” Ella turned and shouted toward the window again. “So what’s it going to be, Mrs. Zah?”

  “I can’t send the baby out. She’s sick. But you can see my boy.”

  “Both kids, or I’m not coming any closer. I have to know they’re both safe.”

  “No. Robert can’t carry Kellie, and she’s really sick.”

  “Then we should get Kellie to a doctor. The PHS clinic near the river has a good staff. But we need to speed things up if your baby needs help. Send Robert out now. You can keep Kellie in your arms, but you’ll still have to set the rifle on the ground when you get to the door. Deal?”

  “All right.”

  “You’re thinking that there’s no way she can fire a rifle as long as she’s holding the little girl?” Neskahi whispered.

  Ella nodded, speaking quietly. “That’s exactly what I’m counting on. If the baby’s as sick as she said, frustration may have been what sent her over the edge. Although medical help is free, a lot of our people are still afraid of hospitals because people die there. Many think the place is filled with the chindi. What I have to do somehow is get her attention focused back on her baby instead of on her personal situation.”

  Gladys appeared with the infant just moments after the little boy walked timidly out the door. After the woman set the rifle down on the ground, Ella placed her pistol on the hood of Neskahi’s car, then walked up slowly, her hands out, showing she was unarmed.

  Neskahi watched from behind the car, then as soon as the little boy was close, went out to get him. Moving quickly, he picked him up and hustled him inside the squad car.

  Ella stepped closer, nodding and smiling at Mrs. Zah, but watching her carefully for signs that she had a knife or other concealed weapon.

  As Ella stood before her, she glanced down at the baby in the woman’s arms. The moment she saw the infant’s face clearly, her heart froze. She’d seen this before. Fetal alcohol syndrome was high among native people. The infant’s head seemed much too small in proportion to the rest of her body. Her eyes were small as well, and the mid portion of her face was flattened. Her expression seemed vacant somehow, indicating poor brain development. Ella could tell that the baby was also badly malnourished.

  The incidence of child mortality was high in New Mexico’s rural areas, more so than in the rest of country, but it was especially bad on the Navajo Nation.

  “I had a Sing done for her, but she kept getting worse.”

  “Has Kellie been to the clinic or to the hospital?”

  “Yes, but they wanted to keep her for tests and treatment. They wanted me to leave my little girl with them, but there was no way I could do that. My husband had been helping me before he got arrested, giving her pollen and water to drink and some herbs, but you took him to jail. I was all alone then. My family lives too far away, and my husband’s clan isn’t much help.”

  Ella tried to control her fear. The child needed medical help right away. She was barely moving. “You know why your husband was arrested. But your child has done nothing to deserve what’s happening to her and she needs more help than you can give her. You’ve got to trust the clinic doctors because they’re her only chance now.”

  “The hataalii said she’s sick because we don’t live in harmony. That wine and whiskey have put our lives out of balance, so sickness has come. The clinic can’t do anything to help us or my child. We don’t walk in beauty.”

  “It’s true that you’ll have to get your own life back in balance. Getting alcohol out of your lives takes a lot of hard work. But there are clinics and programs that can help you. That will all take time, but right now you need to accept the help the doctors can give your child. Your baby is counting on you. Don’t take away her only chance. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

  Gladys broke down into tears. “Please save my daughter. I just can’t help her anymore.”

  “Come with us, then. We’ll take Kellie to the hospital, and talk about getting help for your family while the doctors see her. You can have another Sing done for her there. Our hospital allows that.”

  “I haven’t got any more money for a Sing. I can’t even buy food for my children.”

  “No hataalii will turn you down on that basis. You know that.”

  Gladys looked down at the infant. “Do you think Anglo medicine can help her?”

  Ella hesitated, unwilling to lie to her now. “I don’t know, but we owe it to Kellie to give them a chance.”

  Ella knew that the child’s future wasn’t good. Many of their people, in an attempt to avoid death, would leave the infirm at the hospital, then go back to their lives. She had no doubt that this was why Mrs. Zah had been so afraid to leave her daughter at the hospital. It had been tantamount to accepting that her daughter would die. “You can stay with her for as long as you like at the hospital, too. No one will run you out.”

  Gladys looked at her child, then back up at Ella. “She’s so small…”

  Ella bit back the response she wanted to shout—that it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been drinking all through her pregnancy—but instead, she took her to the Jeep, leaving Neskahi to deal with the weapon.

  “What will happen to my son?”

  “The sergeant will take him to a safe place. The tribe has people who will look after him while you’re in the hospital with the baby. He’ll be just fine, and safe.” And probably better off, Ella thought grimly. At least he’d get some balanced meals, and he’d be away from the danger an alcoholic mother always posed.

  Ella drove the woman and her child to the hospital and remained with her throughout the process of admission. Mrs. Zah stayed with the baby as the emergency room doctor examined the child. The nurse spoke Navajo, and that helped Gladys relax.

  Hearing her call sign on the radio, Ella picked it up, wondering if this would be another delay. At this rate she’d never make it to the memorial service.

  “The motel has decided not to press charges,” dispatch said. “So it’s up to you whether you want to bring her in or not.”

  “She’s needed here more,” Ella said, then ended the transmission.

  Gladys looked back at Ella, who gave her a nod as the staff members led her to the hospital’s nursery. She could see that Mrs. Zah was more comfortable now with the decision she’d made to bring the baby here.

  Ella exhaled softly and started down the hall to the elevators, but before she could step inside, she heard her name being called.

  Turning her head, she saw Carolyn Roanhorse. “I didn’t want Gladys Zah to see me and become frightened, but I overheard the conversation the doctor had with the nurse in the ER and thought you’d want to know. The baby is badly dehydrated and obviously undernourished. She’s got an ear infection and a lot of other problems, but she should make it.”

  Ella nodded. “But she’s mentally impaired from the alcohol, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but it’s too soon to know to what extent. She may yet be able to lead an almost normal life.”

  “I get so tired of dealing with alcohol-related disasters,” Ella said, recalling the drunken driver who had nearly claimed her mother’s life.

  “And you don’t see half of what I do,” Carolyn replied.

  Ella glanced up at the clock on the wall and cursed. “I’ve got to go. I wanted to attend my cousin’s memorial service, but now I’m afraid I’ve probably missed the entire thing.”

  “No, it’s still under way. They were having a Mass. But—” She clamped her mouth shut. “No, never mind.”

  “Go on. What were you going to say?”

  “You may be in for a rough welcome. I understand that some of the family blames you, at least partially, for Justine’s death, so stay on your guard.”

  “Thanks for the warning, but I have to go. Big Ed wants me there, though I think it might be better for the family if I just didn’t show up.”

  “You’re not guilty of anything, so don’t let anyone push you into acting as if you are. I kn
ow you’re thinking of their feelings, and that’s commendable, but not wise. It’s bound to be misconstrued and used against you.”

  “How come you’re not there?”

  “I wouldn’t be shunned in a church service like that since mostly modernists are part of the congregation, but there’s no denying that I make people uncomfortable—even Navajos who admit they don’t know squat about our ways. I sent flowers, and suggested in the note that went with it that maybe I should avoid attending the memorial service. I figured I’d go if the family called and told me to come anyway, but no one did.”

  “They still know you were a good friend to her,” Ella said.

  Ella left the hospital and drove directly to the memorial service. By the time she found a parking place and walked up to the main entrance, people had just started coming out of the church.

  Ella saw Justine’s family in a group, meeting visitors. She remained in the background, but as Angela turned to speak to someone, their eyes met. The pain in Angela’s eyes tore a hole through her. Angela now existed in another reality—one of only loss, regret, and naked sorrow. No one’s words could reach her now. She was past listening, past seeing the things around her, and past caring about anything except the pain in her heart.

  As Ruth and Jayne turned and saw Ella, Ruth immediately went to her mother’s side and started to lead her away. But Jayne strode to where Ella stood and faced her squarely.

  “You wanted us to believe that you were our sister’s friend, but you couldn’t even show up on time at her service,” Jayne said, sorrow and anger in her every word.

  “I was sent on an emergency call. I apologize. It couldn’t be helped.”

  “Or maybe it was just a guilty conscience. I don’t know if you did anything to cause her death, or just weren’t around in time to help her. Either way, you’ve got my sister’s blood on your hands.”

  Ella felt everyone staring at her. She was being singled out in front of her friends and relatives, and there was nothing she could say to defend herself that wouldn’t just make things worse.

  Paul Natoni came up then, and never looking at Ella, led Jayne away by the arm. Ella was surprised to see Natoni there at all, but as she looked around the small gathering, she realized that very few of Justine’s other friends had come. Of course, that wasn’t surprising. Because of the belief that saying the name of the dead within four days of the person’s death could call forth their chindi, a memorial service could be dangerous.

  The only place more hazardous in the minds of the traditionalists was Red Mesa, because that was where Justine was presumably killed, and where her chindi most likely remained.

  Ella stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her cousins receive condolences from members of the community. Big Ed was in the group and gave Ella an encouraging nod, but made no attempt to join her. Then she saw Harry Ute. He spoke to several people, then came up to Ella.

  Standing away from the crowd, yet still watching everyone, Harry spoke in a soft, low voice. “The story is that I was on assignment in Albuquerque and flew in for the service.”

  “Got it.”

  “I also received your message. What’s up?”

  “Could Samuel Begaye be the one who did this?” she asked, her voice a bare whisper.

  “I don’t know for sure. I had an unconfirmed report of Begaye over near Crownpoint that night, and that probably puts him too far away to be directly connected to the murder.”

  “But you said it was unconfirmed.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to follow it up and verify the source. But either way, it doesn’t remove him from the suspect list entirely. It’s possible he’s working in tandem with someone else. To stay at large, he’s needed help. But your cousin’s murder looks well planned, and that MO is all wrong for Begaye. He doesn’t seem to worry about the mess or anyone identifying the body. He’s not a premeditated type of killer. Begaye kills when drunk and provoked, and then it’s sloppy.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. But if you find anything that links Begaye to this crime, let me know right away. I’m under the gun on this one.”

  Harry nodded. “So I’ve heard, and I wish I could give you a hand with the investigation. But unless I find a connection, I can’t help. My priority is finding Begaye. I can’t get involved in your case unless the trail leads to my fugitive.”

  “I know.” Ella was disappointed, but she hadn’t really expected anything different.

  “There’s one thing I want you to understand. If I find even the remotest possibility that there’s a connection, you’ll be the first to know. If the man I was sent here to find killed our friend, I want him—probably even more than you do.”

  “Be careful about making it personal, Harry,” she warned. “Believe me, it just gives you one more complication to worry about. Mentally, I’m already there. I knew she was experiencing some problems and I should have seen this coming.”

  “When something like this happens, everyone wants to take the blame. But the only person responsible is the one, or maybe the ones, who killed her.”

  She nodded. “I hear you, but it’s really hard not to second-guess everything.”

  “Stick to the case. In fact, immerse yourself in it. That’s my advice.”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do. I’m going to check out every enemy my cousin ever made. Begaye will go on that list, so our cases may intersect at some point.”

  Harry nodded. “Just let me know if they do.”

  “Also keep your eyes and ears open for any other kind of trouble on the reservation,” Ella asked.

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. But there’s a chance that the Tribal Police Department may have been targeted by a person or a group out there, and we’ve just seen the first casualty. We have nothing substantial to base that on. It’s just a theory. But I’d like you to stay alert to the possibility.”

  “All right.” He moved off, disappearing into a small group of mourners with an ease only Harry possessed.

  Ella saw Abigail Yellowhair taking a puff from her asthma inhaler. Abigail’s eyes met hers for a split second before the late senator’s wife looked away, nervously. Ella guessed that she was the last person Mrs. Yellowhair wanted to be seen with today.

  By the time Ella left the church grounds, she felt drained of all energy and emotion. It had been difficult for her when she’d first returned to the reservation more than four years ago. She’d been an outsider and been treated as such, but she expected things to be even worse for her now. She was going to be treated like a pariah until she could prove she hadn’t turned to evil.

  Ella went home, hoping to have a very late lunch, unwind, then get back to work, but when she pulled up in the driveway she saw her brother’s pickup.

  Bracing herself for more tension between her and her sister-in-law, Loretta, who was probably inside, Ella stepped out of the Jeep.

  Clifford, who’d apparently seen her drive up, came outside. “I didn’t expect you to be coming home this early,” he said.

  “I just left the memorial service and wanted time to myself, away from the station.”

  He nodded slowly. “I wondered if you’d go to the Mass.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. Big Ed practically made it an order. But I missed the service itself. I had to take an emergency call. Of course, that made things even worse for me with our cousin’s family.”

  “Are things as bad for you as I’ve heard?”

  “What have you heard?”

  “That some of our relatives are holding you responsible for the death, and that our cousin is starting to believe it, too.”

  “Yes, all that’s true.”

  “That’s the bad news. But there’s even more trouble to come. I’m certain that many traditionalists will see these events as proof that you’ve turned to evil and now are a danger to the tribe.”

  She nodded. “The traditionalists will be the first, but sooner or later, a lot of
others will see what’s happened in the same light. Public opinion will condemn me based on circumstantial evidence alone.”

  Loretta came out looking for Clifford, saw Ella, and refusing to even acknowledge her presence, went back inside.

  “Forgive her. She doesn’t mean to be that way.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Clifford smiled wryly. “You’re probably right, but she’s never known you or understood you like I do.”

  “Few do.”

  “That’s part of what worries me the most. I understand what it’s like when everything goes wrong and friends turn against you. I was on the run once, alone, and wondering if the truth would ever bear me out. It was the most difficult time of my life,” he said, referring to the time when he’d been the prime suspect in their father’s murder.

  “I’ll get through it like you did,” Ella said.

  “No, not like I did. I had my beliefs to sustain me. You still don’t have something like that to hold on to. You walk the line between the Navajo and Anglo worlds, but neither one will welcome you now. I’ll counter all the lies and the rumors I hear about you, but because we’re brother and sister, the good I can do you will be limited.”

  Ella understood what he meant. Many would distrust him, too, thinking she’d corrupted him. It was suddenly very clear to her that she might have to face things completely on her own, and that was something she’d rarely done since becoming a cop. Even her fellow officers might begin to doubt her if the evidence against her continued to mount. One way or another, she’d have to uncover the truth quickly, or her entire life would come apart at the seams.

  FIFTEEN

  In a pensive mood, Ella ate a sandwich at the old picnic table while Dawn played outside in the sandbox beside her, stacking blocks of wood as high as she could, then laughing when the precariously stacked columns fell down. Dawn had already eaten, but came back every few minutes for a bite of Ella’s sandwich. It was one way Ella had spoiled her already.

  Ella had sensed that Clifford and Loretta had wanted to be alone with Rose, and that had suited her perfectly. The only company she really wanted right now was that of her daughter. Ella got down beside her in the sandbox and made her own stack of wood blocks, but soon Dawn was tired of stacking blocks and began to play with her dinosaur, making furrows in the sand with the stuffed creature’s legs and long tail.