Red Mesa

by Aimée

  “This guy knew enough to keep his cool and elude us. I don’t think he’s careless or stupid. My guess is that he’s either going to lay low or has already left the area,” Payestewa said.

  Blalock looked at Ella. “If any of us turn up something useful, I’ll let you know. But from this point on, we have to keep your involvement to a minimum. This is getting to be high profile, and Big Ed wants to see you actively working on something other than this case. I spoke to him last night. Some of the politicians are putting an incredible amount of pressure on him. They want him to take your badge and gun until Justine’s case is resolved.”

  “All right. Consider me out of this then,” she said.

  Ella left the two FBI agents and Ralph Tache and walked back to her office. The station’s day shift was just getting started, so she’d have to make it a point to avoid Blalock and the others. It didn’t take much to get people talking, and from the sounds of it, things were difficult enough for the chief already.

  Ella looked at her caseload, which had diminished to practically nothing with the arrest of Jimmy Begaye. Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, she decided to visit Jeremiah Manyfarms. Maybe he’d had some contact with Branch other than on the phone, and could suggest some other avenue of investigation for them. It wasn’t her case, but she could help herself a lot if she could find something that would effectively muzzle Branch for a while.

  First Ella called up Wilson Joe, who she knew worked with Jeremiah sponsoring the teen groups that met on campus after school.

  “He’s here today,” Wilson verified. “Right now I think the professor is trying to get the basketball coach to donate some of his time to practice with the kids.”

  “Professor Manyfarms is really dedicated, isn’t he?”

  “It seems like it,” Wilson replied coldly.

  Ella smiled. Wilson was just being himself, jumping to conclusions and seeing her interest as a personal one. She should have let him stew, but she didn’t have the heart.

  “I want to talk to him because I think he may be able to help with a case I’m working on.”

  “I heard that you’ve been taken off your cousin’s case. Is that true?”

  “Yes, but I’m still keeping tabs on it.”

  “From your tone, I gather things aren’t going well?”

  “It’s a difficult investigation,” she answered, knowing that she hadn’t given away anything. All it meant was that Wilson’s imagination was on overdrive.

  “Watch out for Jeremiah Manyfarms, Ella. I’m telling you this as a friend. He isn’t all he seems to be.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  Wilson paused for a few moments. “He’s trying too hard. This youth program is a terrific idea, but he’s constantly pushing both the kids and the sponsors. It’s become almost an obsession for him.”

  “So he feels strongly about keeping kids out of gangs. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing—it’s the way he goes about it. He’s too controlling. Everything has to be done his way, according to his plans and his schedule. His attitude is all wrong for a Navajo. One person shouldn’t presume to make all decisions for a group.”

  “You know he’s been away for years living in California. Things are a lot different there. It sometimes takes time to get back into the groove here on the Rez.”

  “You’re not identifying with him because you spent time away, too, are you? You two are nothing alike, believe me,” Wilson said.

  Ella smiled, glad that he couldn’t see her reaction. It would have only ticked him off.

  “I’ve got to run, Ella. I’ve got a class in a few minutes.”

  After saying good-bye, Ella hung up. The trip to campus would help her relax. It was hard to dwell on her problems on such a clear New Mexico day.

  By the time she arrived, she was eager to get started. Ella knew the Shiprock campus pretty well, and drove around to the visitors’ parking area. From there she walked to the gym, but as she approached, she saw Jeremiah enter the portable building adjacent to it. Ella followed him inside a few moments later. As she stepped through the open doorway, she saw Jeremiah writing on a portable chalkboard.

  “Whoa, is this supposed to be school after school?” she teased.

  “Hey, Ella, how’s it going?” Jeremiah smiled, then turned back to his drawing of the outline of a basketball court. “This is going to help the boys visualize every player’s responsibilities on the court. They’ll need that skill to run the offense and defense—I hope.”

  Ella sat down on one of the chairs. “You certainly offer diverse activities in your program. You’re still planning on taking them to my brother’s medicine hogan?”

  “I certainly am, if we can come up with a schedule. I want to expose these young people to as many different things as I can. Some of them have short attention spans, and I don’t want to give them a chance to get bored.”

  “Basketball will hold their interest for sure. Everyone loves the games here. When the high school plays our big rival, Kirtland Central, half the town goes to see the game. If the college was large enough to have a team, everyone would be in seventh heaven.”

  “The college has PE in the gym and intramural games, but that’s about it. We don’t have the budget to make the trips. Plus, we’re too small a school to give anyone else any real competition.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “But that’s not why you’re here.”

  “No, I came by to ask you a few questions about George Branch.”

  Manyfarms scowled. “That crank? He’s not my favorite person. Around here I hear you either love or hate him, and I’m in the latter category. He’s making a lot of money, I’m told, and he has a lot of listeners. Yet, despite all that, he refuses to raise a finger to help our teen programs. He could have helped us throw one really kickass fund-raiser with some public service announcements on his program, but he says his listeners are more concerned with the big issues in the community. The bottom line is that he won’t do a thing. Well, he made a twenty-dollar contribution once, then asked for a receipt.”

  “How well do you know him?”

  “Not well at all. I’ve never even met him in person. I tried, mind you. I went to the radio station two or three times, but although I made sure I didn’t catch him on the air, he was always too busy to see me. Finally I called his show, but he brushed me off. I wanted to tell his audience about our youth program so we could reach people who didn’t know about us, but he never gave me a chance.”

  “I appreciate the information. Thanks.”

  “Is he in some kind of legal trouble?”

  “Not really. He’s just a pain and I like to keep track of what my enemies are doing.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “I heard him allude to you the other day. He sure didn’t pull many punches.”

  “He likes to push freedom of speech as close to a lawsuit as he can.” Ella started back out the door, then stopped. “What kind of car do you drive?”

  “Why do you ask? Am I about to get a ticket?”

  “Nah. I’m just looking at that nice blue sedan over there. It’s a Beemer, isn’t it?”

  He met her by the door. “Sure is. I saw a lot of them in California. Unfortunately, that car isn’t mine. I drive that old Chevy truck over there, the red one.” He looked back at the car she’d pointed out. “I don’t know who owns that, but it sure isn’t someone who lives on the Rez full-time. No one I know around here has that kind of money.”

  “Some do, but they usually don’t flaunt it.”

  A moment later, Ella saw Abigail Yellowhair leave the adjacent building and make her way to the car. “How about that,” she muttered. Ella recalled the generic-looking Ford sedan she’d seen parked at the Yellowhair house only a few days ago. Had Abigail kept her husband’s car after all so she could use whichever car fit the image she was trying to project at the time?

  He made a disgusted sound. “Wouldn’t it figure it would belong to a politician? Maybe Branch’s shots about
corruption weren’t totally off the mark.”

  Ella nodded, her thoughts racing. Maybe this was part of the conspiracy her informant had mentioned. If Branch created unrest, new politicians like Abigail Yellowhair would find it easier to get elected. She discarded the thought even as it formed. Abigail Yellowhair and George Branch working together? That was just plain crazy.

  * * *

  Ella stopped by her home, and as she walked in, saw Rose twining yarn into a ball. Her mother’s face was drawn and she looked as if she’d been crying.

  “Mom, what’s happened?” She looked around quickly and saw Dawn on the sofa taking a nap.

  Rose placed a finger over her lips and motioned Ella into the kitchen.

  “Let me fix you some lunch,” Rose said, pulling things out of the refrigerator.

  “Mom, talk to me.” She would have taken the casserole dish from her mother, but knew it would be a mistake. Whenever her mother was really upset, she would search for something to do with her hands. It was almost therapeutic.

  Ella sat down at the kitchen table while Rose heated up leftover mutton stew. “Mother, something must have happened. Tell me what it was,” she asked again.

  “It’s my daughter-in-law. I hadn’t seen my grandson in a while. The last two times I went by, she wasn’t home, so I called and tried to find a time when she could come here with him or I could go visit.” Rose’s voice grew softer. “She started making a million excuses. I couldn’t believe it. She doesn’t want me to see my own grandchild.”

  “Have you told my brother?” Ella asked. Once Clifford knew, he’d put a stop to it fast.

  “He’s not home today. But the two of them are having problems, daughter. I think my daughter-in-law’s family is putting pressure on her to stay away from us. I went to the store earlier and I overheard some gossip. They’re saying that our family legacy is true and that it’s caught up to us. They believe you’ve turned to evil, and that if I’m protecting you, I must be part of the problem, too.”

  Ella felt her mother’s pain as keenly as she did her own. Trying to remain calm, she took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Listen, Mom, people are going to talk. Gossip is a favorite pastime here, next to basketball,” she added, trying to make her mom smile but failing.

  “I just don’t know what to do. If I tell your brother that his wife believes the rumors, that she won’t let me see my grandson because she’s afraid of what you or I will do to him, it’ll hurt him deeply. Even worse, it’ll create more problems in his marriage, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  “Let me talk to him. What his wife is doing is wrong and it has to be set right,” Ella insisted.

  “No. Let me see if there’s another way to handle this first. I have to find out if his wife is truly frightened or just trying to punish us. You know she already thinks that we take too much of your brother’s time.”

  “I have a better idea. Let me have a talk with her,” Ella suggested.

  “You don’t really want to just talk to her. You want to back her up against the wall like you do with your suspects,” Rose said, and this time she smiled.

  “Tempting, isn’t it?” Ella said wistfully.

  Rose chuckled. “Daughter, your way of confronting this issue is going to stir up even more trouble. I’ll handle this.”

  “I don’t want to see you hurt, Mom, but with everything that’s happening…”

  Dawn tottered into the kitchen just then. “Pick up,” she said, holding her hands up to Ella.

  Ella lifted her up. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “Shimasání crying,” she said, reaching out to her grandmother. “T’adoo.”

  Ella laughed. “That’s right, Grandma, stop that! I guess that’s one Navajo word she hears a lot!”

  Rose laughed, and Ella realized how much her daughter and her mother needed each other. At the moment, it was hard to tell who was really taking care of whom. Dawn had given Rose a new lease on life.

  Ella ate a quick lunch with her mother and daughter, then set out again, assured that Rose was feeling better. She was tempted to drive over to Loretta’s and give her a piece of her mind, but knew she shouldn’t, particularly after her mother had specifically asked her not to.

  Hearing her cell phone ring, Ella picked it up. It was Blalock.

  “I just wanted to let you know that Branch is gunning for all of us now. The jerk is looking for trouble, but he’s mine,” FB-Eyes growled. “Is that clear? When he calls the local FBI corrupt on the air, then it falls on my side of the court, and it’s up to me to return the ball.”

  “I assume he said this on the new morning segment of his show?” Ella asked.

  “Yeah. He got the radio station to split his program so that he gets morning and evening drive-time traffic. That way he’ll increase his listening audience.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “Well, he’s being escorted down to your police station, for starters. He barely got to sign off on his program. Since he’s made my life more miserable than it was, I’m now going to dedicate myself to returning that favor.”

  Ella laughed. “Tread carefully, old friend.”

  “Yeah. Payestewa is a lawyer, so we’re going to threaten him with personal libel and drown him in legalese. It won’t go anywhere, but I guarantee we’ll get his attention and make the station think twice about permitting his personal attacks. One more thing. It would be best for you not to come down to the police station right now. You have two reporters waiting. They’re from the local and the morning Albuquerque papers.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll steer clear for a while.”

  As Ella put the phone down, she tried to come up with a plan of action. This morning’s incident with her mother had made it very clear that she couldn’t just sit by and wait for Blalock to find answers. Justine’s death was ripping her family apart, and she simply couldn’t stay waiting on the sidelines, going in for an occasional play. With Harry Ute and the FBI already after Samuel Begaye, and Branch distracting Blalock, she decided to concentrate on Jayne. Ella called Ruth and learned that her cousin would be getting off work at the Daily Double in another forty minutes.

  Ella set out for the bar on the east side of Farmington, ready to get some answers. As she pulled into the cafe’s parking lot, Ella saw Jayne walking west away from the cafe along the south side of the highway.

  Ella parked quickly and started to follow her on foot. Hoping not to get spotted, Ella hung well back. There was one business right after the other in this area, many of them construction companies or trucking firms, and it was easy to follow Jayne because the vehicles in each of the parking lots gave her cover.

  When Jayne stopped at a gas station to speak to two men, obviously friends of hers, Ella watched her carefully. It was remarkable how much Jayne resembled Justine. They not only looked alike physically, they also moved with the same quick strides short, energetic people often used.

  Five minutes later, Jayne left the gas station and continued down the street. The bar she gambled at was just past the next corner, and Ella figured that was probably where she was heading.

  Ella saw her turn down an alley between two old brick buildings, now used for storage, that had their windows painted over. The minute Ella followed Jayne into the shadows, she knew she’d walked into a trap.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head. The men Jayne had met at the gas station were now blocking her way back out. Ella faced them squarely. “You’re about to make a very big mistake. I’m a cop.”

  “One who is the only real suspect in my sister’s death,” Jayne said from behind Ella. “And who is way out of her jurisdiction.”

  “And one who is armed,” Ella said, putting her hand down on the butt of her pistol. “Don’t be asking for trouble.”

  The men backed up a step, but Jayne picked up a piece of lumber from an old pallet and threw it at Ella.

  Unable to dodge effectively in the narrow space between
the buildings, Ella was forced to block the chunk of wood, and it bounced painfully off her right forearm.

  Before she knew it, the men were upon her. Ella ducked under a fist, went down, then kicked her attacker’s legs out from under him. Rolling, she drew her pistol and aimed it at the pair. “Back off.”

  The two men glanced at each other, stepped back out of the alley, and split up, disappearing in opposite directions.

  Jayne stood in front of Ella, unable to pass by and blocked at the other end by a six-foot fence. “Looks like you’ve trapped me here.”

  “Stay where you are, Jayne. We have to talk,” Ella said, scrambling back to her feet.

  Jayne put her back against one of the buildings, trying to inch past Ella. “No way. I’m not talking to you. I’m getting out of here and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. If you shoot me or beat me up, there’s no way you’ll stay out of jail, not with the charges you’re already facing.”

  “There are no charges against me,” Ella reminded her, holstering her weapon.

  “Oh, but the evidence is there, and you’ve got enemies who are ready to make sure the police don’t sweep everything under the rug.”

  “You’re really eager to put the blame on me, aren’t you? I wonder if it’s because you’re worried that your sister’s death is linked to you and your gambling problems.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this,” Jayne said, inching farther out of the alley. “You’re the one who’s at fault. My sister is dead because of you, not me,” Jayne said, choking back a sob.

  Before Ella could say another word, Jayne brushed past her and ran out of the alley. Ella didn’t go after her. It seemed pointless now. Instead, she walked back quickly to her unit.

  She was unlocking the door when her cell phone rang. Ella recognized her brother’s voice instantly.