by Aimée
TWENTY-THREE
It was past five by the time she arrived at the college, and Wilson was alone in his office, grading papers.
Seeing her standing in the doorway, he smiled and stood. “Two visits in one day? To what do I owe this honor?”
“I need a friend,” she said, coming in and closing the door behind her. Sitting down on the other side of his desk, she explained what had happened, and about her suspension.
“Ella, I’m really sorry! Chief Atcitty shouldn’t have done that to you. He knows you would never have harmed Justine.”
“He didn’t have a choice, not with all the circumstantial evidence mounting up against me. The law can be very inflexible, and it’s even tougher on cops. We don’t have the same rights a civilian has,” she said in a weary voice. “Whoever is behind all this is doing one bang-up job of ruining me.”
“Then we’ll have to return the favor. Where do you want to start?” Wilson poured her a cup of coffee from a small pot, then topped off his own cup.
Ella smiled. Wilson was one friend she could count on, no matter what happened. “I’ve been thinking about how everything started. Justine began acting really peculiar, always on edge, which was not like her. And it wasn’t just with me. She was having some serious family problems, and that, I suspect, affected her a lot more than anyone realized.”
“You mean Jayne and her gambling?”
“Yeah. I didn’t realize you knew.”
“We have an older student here, Bobby Lujan, who’s bad news everywhere he goes. I saw Jayne talking with him several times, and I checked around. Apparently she owes Bobby quite a bit of money.”
“The guy has no criminal record, at least not yet. I checked him out. What I didn’t know was that he was a student here.”
“He’s been attending off and on for several years. Lujan’s apparently well off. I know he likes to gamble, but I hear that he always seems to come out ahead. He’s particularly good at cards, especially poker.”
“Did you ever talk to Jayne about him?”
“I tried, but I think at the time she was in love with him. When I asked her if he was really the sort she wanted to hang around with, she defended him vehemently.”
“Did you ever tell Justine?”
“Yeah, we discussed it over coffee a week before she died. She thanked me for my concern, then basically told me to mind my own business. She said that she could take care of her sister without any help.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Justine we knew. She wasn’t on medication, because she hadn’t had any prescriptions filled for months, and Justine wasn’t the type to get into drugs. She loved her work with the police department and she was very protective of her career. She saw it like I do—something that gave her a purpose and made her feel good about getting up in the morning.”
“So what does that leave us with?” Wilson said, his voice thoughtful. “Had she had a physical recently?”
“Yeah, we all do on the anniversary of our employment with the department. It’s mandatory.”
“I was thinking of something like a brain tumor, but maybe what we’re dealing with is harder to pinpoint. Have you considered the possibility that the skinwalkers are at the root of this? They’ve certainly caused enough problems. I can tell you that they’ve got knowledge of herbs that will scramble someone’s thinking big time. Remember what they did to me? They drugged me, and I never even knew it.” He stood up and began to pace. “It could be them, all right. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”
“No, Wilson, calm down.” Ella knew Wilson had a tendency to go off half-cocked, but it was to be expected considering what those people had put him through not long ago. To this day, he tended to blame everything he couldn’t explain on the skinwalkers. “But you’ve made a good point. Justine may have been drugged by someone close to her. A friend, or maybe a relative.”
“You don’t think Jayne would do something like that, do you?”
Ella considered it. “No. It doesn’t fit her personality. I don’t think she has the knowledge, either, though she did have the opportunity, seeing her sister regularly.”
“Then who else was Justine close to? It would have to be someone she spent a lot of time with, and someone she trusted.”
“Paul Natoni,” Ella said. “Justine was seeing him on a regular basis, and I think she was getting serious about him. They met for breakfast a lot, more than one person told me.” She remembered the experience she’d had at Paul Natoni’s trailer.
“Go on. Don’t hold out on me now. We’re on the same side here, okay?”
Ella nodded. There were precious few people who still believed in her like Wilson did, and he deserved more from her than this. She told him everything that had happened, as well as detecting the scent of Justine’s perfume.
“Do you think Justine could really still be alive?”
“Logic tells me no, but in here,” she said, pointing to her heart, “I don’t think I’ve ever really accepted her death. I don’t know if that’s just wishful thinking or not. Carolyn thinks she’s dead, and I’ve never seen her make a mistake on forensic matters.”
“Even if Dr. Roanhorse is right, you’ve still got to check out Natoni,” Wilson said. “You owe it to Justine.”
Ella remembered Coyote’s warnings about a conspiracy. Maybe another mistake she’d made all along was in searching for one suspect. Maybe in this case, her enemy acted as one, but was in reality many people. Such a conspiracy would provide alibis for a lot of people, each involved in one step of the plan.
“Justine knew your associate Jeremiah Manyfarms, too, didn’t she?” Ella recalled.
Wilson nodded slowly. “Justine liked him. In fact, she considered him a friend. I thought she should have been more careful around him, but I don’t think there was anything going on sexually. I think all she wanted was someone older to talk to.”
“What do you really know about Professor Manyfarms, the man?”
“Not much. He doesn’t talk about himself or his family. But I get the feeling that he’s the type who needs a cause to identify with. Before it was Indian rights. Now it’s gangs. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded. “But his current involvement with the youth programs is understandable. The loss of his youngest son because of the gang thing must have devastated him. The other day he told me what had happened.”
Wilson nodded slowly. “I remember reading about the incident in the local paper at the time. It must have torn his heart out. We expect to bury our parents, never our kids.” He paused. “But I don’t see him as the type to drug someone. He’s too confident, and would rather try to charm or intimidate them. And even if he was the one drugging her, it certainly couldn’t have been on a regular basis.”
Ella nodded, but didn’t tell him about the conspiracy she’d been warned about. She wasn’t sure of the source, and if Coyote really was an undercover cop, he deserved to have his secrets guarded.
“How will you check up on Natoni? You can’t access the police computer files anymore, can you?” he asked.
“No, and if I tried, I’d get caught. I’m going to have to go low-tech. I’ll tail him and maybe do the PI thing. As a cop, I had to follow a lot of rules. But now that I’m on my own time, I can afford to be more … shall we say, flexible?”
He chuckled softly. “Be careful, Ella. Don’t give anyone else a reason to come gunning for you. You’ve got enough enemies already.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She walked to the door. “If you hear anything that might help, call me right away.”
“Count on it. And, Ella?” She turned her head and he continued. “You’ll get out of this. You’re very resourceful, and more importantly, you never give up. Sooner or later your enemies will realize that you can’t defeat an opponent who won’t stay down.”
Ella laughed. “What a sweet talker.”
“I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to flatter you. You have BS radar.”
She laughed. “Thanks—I think.”
Ella crossed the campus and went to her personal vehicle, a four-year-old white pickup she usually drove only on weekends and when off work. She was soon heading south toward home. For once, she wanted to be there on a weekday when Dawn ate dinner. Little moments with her family seemed even more important now that there was a good chance she could end up in jail, at least for a while.
She thought about what she’d do if she ever found out she was about to be arrested. Would she go on the run, knowing that in order to clear her name, she’d need to remain free? No matter what, her first priority would have to be doing what was best for her daughter as well as herself. Dawn would have enough on her shoulders with the weight of the family legacy. She didn’t need the added shame of having her mother in prison, convicted of murder.
She turned on the radio, refusing to dwell on it any longer. A newscaster on the same AM station was playing excerpts from Branch’s radio show. Apparently the gadfly was continuing his attacks on the integrity of the police department, calling for the immediate firing of most of the current officers, including Big Ed Atcitty, though he was careful not to mention any names. Branch had also suggested that the tribal president and most of the Council resign. Although he never mentioned Ella by name, he also hammered on the crimes committed by one “well-known police officer” and the efforts of the “entire department” to protect her.
Ella felt the full sting of the accusations, though they were based on lies and planted evidence. But there was nothing she could do. She continued to listen, unwilling to turn it off. No matter how difficult it was for her to hear, she had to know what her enemies were saying in order to learn their motives. This could perhaps lead to discovering their identities.
This local commentator was less obnoxious than Branch, but he shared one important viewpoint with her nemesis. On the legalized-gambling issue, the current hot topic on the Rez, they were of one mind. By all reports, almost all of the other New Mexico tribes were experiencing prosperity because of their newly opened casinos. Some Navajos supporting legalized gambling believed that opening a casino on the Rez would help bring many Navajos out of poverty. It would also allow the tribe to fund programs that would benefit The People without relying on federal subsidies that came with strings attached.
In the past, every time the issue of legalized gambling on the Navajo Rez had come up, it had been voted down, but now proponents were unifying and amassing their strength. The commentator read off the names of prominent leaders and influential Navajos who supported a specialized referendum to legalize gambling. It didn’t come as a surprise to her to hear Kevin’s name on that list.
It hadn’t occurred to her before, but she suddenly understood why he’d been so determined to distance himself from the scandal surrounding her. His public stand on gambling already entailed a risk. Now that he was running for office, Kevin had to make sure he came across as above reproach. He had to lend credibility to the progambling stand his most influential supporters were probably taking.
Ella wondered if this was part of the conspiracy Coyote had warned her about. Although she had no reason to trust this informant, she had a strong feeling he was legit.
If the conspiracy required creating chaos and unrest on the reservation as a tool to winning political power, she had no doubt that George Branch was heavily involved. Certainly, when propaganda came to mind, his was the loudest voice in the area.
Yet it was also possible that he was being used by someone who understood that Branch’s primary motivation was his job—he needed ratings. It wouldn’t be hard to manipulate an egotist like Branch by feeding him information meant to undermine others in power.
It was dusk when Ella glanced in her rearview mirror and saw another, tan or yellow pickup behind her. The vehicle stayed with her and closed the distance slowly. She wasn’t in the tribal unit, so if she’d picked up a tail, it would have to be someone who knew her personal vehicle. She slowed down, trying to get a closer look, and then realized it was Blalock driving either his own or a rented pickup.
She pulled over and a moment later met him by the side of the road.
“I was just about to call you on your cell phone,” he said. “I didn’t want to alarm you.”
“It’s okay. What’s up?”
“I just wanted you to know that everything will take a backseat to this investigation. You’ll be reinstated in the department before you know it.”
“I certainly hope so, but I’m not going to kid myself either. My chances at the moment stink.”
“True.” He hesitated. “Listen, I wanted you to know that I checked out Bobby Lujan. This was his last known address,” Blalock said, handing her a slip of paper, “and the number below is his license plate and make and model truck.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“For what? This never happened.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “Look, Ella, it’s just Payestewa and me working this case, plus two of your department officers who are assigned to us part-time. Things are complicated, and we’re stretched to the limit, so if you should choose to look into this and find out something useful, pass it along. I’m all ears.”
“Deal. By the way, Dwayne, do you recall if Paul Natoni had an alibi for the night of the murder?” Ella asked.
“The guy who was dating Justine?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “I’d have to check my notes, but I think he was at Professor Jeremiah Manyfarms’ house watching a basketball game. He was one of the first on my list,” Blalock answered.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
After Blalock drove off, Ella looked at Lujan’s address. It was in a new residential section between her home and Shiprock. She decided to stop by there first before going home.
Ella turned onto a newly paved street and drove past several individual homes and duplexes. Finally she reached three small apartment buildings, each with four units side by side. She parked in a space beside the third building, walked to the door marked C-3, and knocked loudly. There was no response or sound from the other side of the door.
Hearing a vehicle pulling up, Ella turned and saw a truck parking beside hers.
“Are you looking for Bobby?” a young Navajo woman asked. She climbed out of the sedan, grabbed a bag of groceries, and walked toward C-2.
“Yes, I am. Do you know where I can find him?”
She shook her head. “He moved out a few days ago and didn’t leave a forwarding address. I know because the manager asked me if I could tell where he’d gone. Apparently he didn’t pay last month’s rent.”
“Were you a friend of Bobby’s?”
“Not really. I’m just his neighbor. The last time I saw him it was late at night and he was loading up all his things into his Suburban. I remember thinking it was an odd time to move. I’d just come off my shift at the Quick Stop, so I know it was after midnight.”
“You said he had a Suburban? I thought he had a Dodge truck.”
“When he moved in here he did, but about a month ago he came home in that huge SUV. He told me he’d just borrowed it, but if he did, it must have been a long-term loan because he’s been driving it ever since.”
“Thanks.”
The woman looked at her for a long time. “You’re that officer who’s under investigation, aren’t you?”
Ella nodded. She’d avoided mentioning her own name or asking for one, hoping to avoid this. The truth was that she had no legal jurisdiction here anymore, and she’d hoped to keep her visit low profile.
“You really helped a cousin of mine once, Ernest Red-house. He was in the North Siders. He might have gotten killed if you hadn’t stopped the gangs from mixing it up. For what it’s worth, I’m on your side on this. I think you care too much about being a cop to kill your own cousin like that.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m not guilty, and I will prove it. Hearing that there are people like you who still believe in me really helps keep
me going.”
It was dark by the time she was back on the highway heading home. This section of Highway 666 was nearly deserted this time of night and void of streetlights except for a stretch near Gallup. It was like entering an inky black hole that swallowed up even the headlights of her car.
Ella thought of Dawn. She’d wanted to have dinner with her tonight, but by now she’d be lucky to see her still awake. Ella felt the unrelenting tension and pressure that had become her constant companions these days. Yet for her family’s sake, she’d have to work really hard to look calm and project confidence around Rose. There was no way she wanted her mother any more worried than she already was, or Dawn frightened by something she’d never be able to understand.
Deep in thought, Ella spotted the car coming up behind her a few seconds too late. It had approached with the lights turned off, and she was nearly blinded by the sudden headlights on high beams. As it swung out rapidly to pass her, she knew she was in trouble.
Ella reached for her pistol, then realized it wasn’t there. All she had now was the backup derringer in her boot. She pressed down on the accelerator and dialed the police emergency number on her cell phone.
She was waiting for a connection when the driver of the car pulled up beside her. Switching from gas pedal to brakes, Ella suddenly cut speed and leaned back into the seat, dropping the phone so she could put both hands on the wheel. The next sounds she heard were the loud thumps of four bullets passing through the cab. As the side window was penetrated, glass exploded into her face, stinging her cheek but missing her eyes.
Ella felt heat slash across her left thigh like someone had dropped a burning cigarette on her leg, but the leg continued to function, so she assumed it was just a graze.
Heart racing, she braked hard, swerving to the right onto the shoulder and trying to keep the pickup from rolling as she hit soft ground.
