Red Mesa

by Aimée

  Ella kept the police-band scanner on, and heard the frustration in Manuelito’s voice as he called in, asking for an officer farther north to set up a roadblock to intercept her.

  Either the sergeant had managed to catch a glimpse of Manyfarms’ name on the computer screen back at the college, or the printer had been merely taking its time warming up, and delayed printing out the file until after she’d left. Even with the computer turned off, enough data could have passed to the printer for Manuelito to get the drift of what she’d been checking. And with the circuitous route she’d taken to Gallup, Manuelito would have had plenty of time to locate Jeremiah on campus, or guessed where she was headed and driven to Gallup to stake out Mrs. Manyfarms’ house.

  Ella smiled, knowing that she’d eluded Manuelito again. But now she had to tell Blalock what she’d learned. She looked at her cell phone. She’d make a quick call—too short to trace even if they’d managed by some miracle to get the technology and put it in place.

  Ella phoned in, and Blalock answered on the first ring.

  “How the hell did you get access to an FBI file like that?” Blalock asked when she’d finished.

  “That’s something I can’t tell you. But check it out with your sources. I think you’ll find the file is legit, and it still should be secure, unless Sergeant Manuelito was able to get a partial printout.”

  “At least he’s a cop. Ella, where are you, and when are—”

  Ella hung up without letting Blalock finish his sentence or saying good-bye, and headed south, back in the direction she’d come. She wasn’t far from Loretta’s mother’s house now, which was south of Coyote Canyon. She decided to stake the place out. Knowing her brother, he’d never stay at his mother-in-law’s home. Avoidance between a mother-in-law and a son-in-law was a centuries-old cultural rule and not one that Clifford would be likely to break.

  She picked a vantage point on the west side, atop a small hill, and using binoculars, scouted the canyon below, making sure no police cars were around, watching for her to show up. There was a camping tent a few hundred yards from Loretta’s mother’s home.

  The tent was old army surplus, a sturdy canvas model Clifford had purchased many years ago in Farmington. Ella approached slowly and cautiously from a small arroyo running northwest. Sure they’d turn her in to the police, Ella was determined to avoid being spotted by Loretta or her mother.

  As she drew near to the camp, she saw her brother sitting near a campfire alone, looking in her direction.

  “Come out, sister,” he said. “I’m alone and my wife is at her mother’s.”

  “How did you know?”

  He smiled. “You still have the footsteps of an elephant.”

  “I do not,” she growled. “You must have seen me coming down the hill earlier, or heard the truck.”

  He smiled. “Come and warm yourself, just don’t face the house in front of the fire in case someone looks this direction. There’s no chance my wife will come over to visit right now. She’s with our son, and still has no desire to speak to me. She heard on the radio that the police are searching for you in connection to our cousin’s murder.”

  “I’m in serious trouble at the moment, that’s true. But I could be close to finding the truth.”

  “Good. Our mother and your daughter need you back at your home.”

  Ella told him briefly why she was on the run, and what she’d put together about Natoni and Manyfarms, then waited for his reaction.

  Clifford’s expression was troubled. “I should have suspected that college professor long before now.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Do you remember when Mom had to take Two to the vet?”

  “Sure. You were gone, visiting a patient.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it was Jeremiah Manyfarms. I can see now why he called me, though he didn’t seem ill at all. Without me, or Two, or you around, it was easy for his accomplice to break into our mother’s home, steal the kitchen knife, axe, and hair samples, probably from your own hairbrush or pillow, and have what he needed to frame you.”

  Ella smiled knowing he was using the name of his enemy to strip him of its power and undermine him. “If Jeremiah was with you, that means that his stepson or the twins poisoned Two and did the actual legwork for him.”

  “It was carefully planned,” Clifford acknowledged.

  “I also believe his twin sons played a part in the incident that created such trouble between Justine and me,” she said, filling him in on what she now suspected about the shooting at the convenience store.

  “Did you know that Jeremiah Manyfarms is skilled at repairing radios and electronic equipment? He has a small business on the side. I saw his workshop when I went to his home,” Clifford announced. “That could explain why you and our cousin couldn’t use your radios to communicate.”

  “Maybe FB-Eyes can locate the twins, but I have a feeling Jeremiah has ordered them to stay in hiding.”

  “If they’re on the reservation, I may be able to find them for you. If I do, I’ll send the information to FB-Eyes.”

  Ella stood up. “I better get going.”

  “Where will you go? Do you have supplies?”

  “Some. I can get more.”

  “You’ll be taking a chance if you go into a store. They may all have your photos on their cash registers by now.” He waved her to the canned food and fresh water bottles in the back of his truck. “Take some of mine. I’ll have no problem getting more.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. Take the tent, too, if you want.”

  She shook her head. “No, I won’t need it. The place I’m going to has a good solid roof.”

  “I won’t ask where, but you may have to change hiding places before this is over. Take all the supplies you need,” he said, helping her load water and some food into the tent storage bag so she could carry them back to her truck. “Just remember to stay away from the places that’ll bring you more trouble than safety, like abandoned hogans. Those with a hole punched in the side pose a danger even if you can’t see it.”

  “I know. If a death has occurred there, then there’s danger of contamination by the chindi,” she said, completing his thought. “Don’t worry. I’ve got enough enemies already. I’m not looking for any more.”

  “And if you need me, send word any way you can. I’ll do my best to help you.”

  Ella motioned toward the house. “Have you been able to talk with your wife yet?”

  Clifford shook his head. “We used to understand each other very well. Now it’s like we disagree on everything. I’m not sure what happened. Or, more importantly, how to fix it. But I’m not giving up.”

  “Take care of yourself,” Ella whispered as she turned to head back to her truck.

  “You, too.”

  It was late and she was tired, but the safe house was one of several that Blalock had once told her about, and this one would serve her well tonight.

  Exhaustion undermined her as she struggled to remember the directions of the one she had in mind. It was south of Captain Tom Wash, east of the community of Newcomb, and near an old coal mine.

  The last stretch was the worst, and she got out several times to look for vehicle tracks. Blalock didn’t have enough men at his disposal to stake out every hiding place she might know about, but she had to be careful anyway. After a three-mile drive up one of the roughest roads she’d ever seen, she finally reached the safe house located in an old mining camp. The stone house must have originally belonged to a superintendent of the mine. It was the only one still standing. The lack of recent tire tracks or footprints suggested that no one had been around for quite some time, or come in from another direction, and no vehicles or lights were visible anywhere.

  Parking around back, close to the house so the pickup couldn’t be seen by someone approaching, she walked around front. Remembering Blalock’s directions, she used a key she found under the first stone of the flagstone walk leading to the
front porch and went inside.

  It wasn’t fancy, just four walls and a roof, but it would do. She searched the entire house using her flashlight, and in the kitchen closet found an oil lamp and a metal can of fuel for it.

  Bringing out the lamp, she set it on the bare kitchen table so it would be close by, if needed. Next she brought in her sleeping bag, rifle, and a bottle of water from the truck, and placed them in the kitchen, closest to the back door and the truck outside.

  Taking one last precaution, she went from room to room, standing in the darkness, listening. Finally satisfied that she was alone, she crawled into the sleeping bag and drifted off to sleep.

  A commotion right outside jolted her awake sometime later. Ella grabbed the rifle from where it rested beside her, and crouched by the kitchen window. In the soft glow of the moon, she could see Harry Ute standing over a man who lay prone on the ground, not moving.

  Ella watched, uncertain whether to trust Harry now.

  “I know you’re there, Ella, but don’t come out. I was closing in on Samuel Begaye, and spotted him while he was watching the turnoff toward your brother’s mother-in-law’s house. He must have learned that Clifford was there, and was hoping you’d show up. I waited, and followed him when he followed you. If yours hadn’t been the only vehicle leaving the area, you might have fooled both of us in that unfamiliar pickup. He hit his head when I took him down and he’s out cold now, but once I get him to Shiprock, he’ll be questioned extensively at the station. Unless I miss my guess, he’ll be dying to tell everyone where you’re at, so you better get a move on. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

  “I’ll clear out,” Ella said, now standing in the shadows.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you more. You’re not on my fugitives list, so if I’m asked, I never actually saw you.”

  “And you didn’t,” she said, watching Harry as he carried his unconscious prisoner over his shoulder and dropped him in the backseat of his sedan.

  As soon as she could see his taillights, Ella gathered up her things, locked the house, replaced the key, then left.

  More than anything, she would have liked to be present during Begaye’s questioning. It was possible that he knew something about Justine’s murder, or at the very least, that he might slip up and comment about nearly killing Ella in the drive-by that night when she was in her own truck. He would know who’d come up behind her in the Farmington Mall, too, or at least have a description. But there was no sense in dwelling on a missed opportunity. It was something that was as out of her reach as her badge was now.

  Ella drove northeast through Burnham, and ended up several miles south of Morgan Lake. There was a lot of ground cover here beside the hogback and it would be safe for her to camp out, though she wouldn’t risk building a fire.

  All she really needed now was a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, and for that, this was the ideal place. She was absolutely certain no one had followed her. The unimproved roads behind her had long stretches of open ground around them, and anyone following without headlights would have lost her. Now, between two small hills, she’d take her rest in the bed of the pickup.

  Ella woke up before sunrise, her back stiff from the metal surface beneath her sleeping bag. She opened her eyes slowly, and for a moment, panic set in until she remembered where she was. She had to head back to Shiprock now. The only chance she had to find out if Justine was till alive, and if not, at least clear her name, lay with Manyfarms and Natoni.

  Ella went back through Shiprock, reversing the route she’d taken yesterday, west of Waterflow across the small bridge, then along side roads north of Highway 64. It was risky, but she didn’t think Manuelito would consider her foolhardy enough to come back here. Using her binoculars, she watched from the top of the mesa opposite the college, trying to find Manyfarms and searching for any Tribal Police units on stakeout. She found neither, but it was still quite early.

  Not having Jeremiah’s address and not wanting to risk contacting Wilson now, Ella went to Paul Natoni’s trailer park, then maneuvered around to an arroyo opposite the main entrance, parking the truck below ground level, out of sight from the road. Selecting a vantage point that was somewhat risky, but close in, and out of view of Natoni’s nosy neighbor, she lay down prone behind a clump of brush, settling in for a long wait. An unfamiliar-looking car was parked beside the trailer, but Natoni’s vehicle was gone.

  Ella had been there for about a half hour when a woman wearing a nurse’s uniform came out of the trailer and got into the car. It was still relatively early, barely six-thirty in the morning. The woman, from a distance, was the same height and body type as Justine, but even with binoculars, she couldn’t ID her. Unwilling to let it go, Ella ran back to her truck, intending to tail her.

  With only one road leading from the trailer park, Ella was able to catch up enough to follow her to the hospital.

  Ella pulled in and parked a few spaces behind the woman. She waited until the nurse got out of her car, then moved to intercept her. A moment later Ella cut her off, staring at her in surprise. “What the hell?”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  It was Justine’s traditionalist aunt Lena, though it was obvious now that she’d been an imposter. Her hospital ID gave an entirely different name.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “You!”

  “Yeah, it’s me. But who are you?” Ella grasped her forearm and held her there. “You aren’t anyone’s aunt Lena, and you’re no more a traditionalist than I’m an Anglo. It should have occurred to me that you didn’t live out at that hogan. Your hands are too soft and smooth to have ever chopped wood. And look at those rings. They’re the same ones you wore that day.”

  “My name’s Lupe Dearman and that’s all I’m going to say. Not without a lawyer.” She stared defiantly at Ella.

  “You’re better off talking to me now than to the police once they catch on to you. They may be a week old by now, but some of your prints will be around the real Lena’s farm, if that’s what it really was. They’re probably all over the hogan.”

  Lupe nodded. “So what? You can’t prove that I was the one who impersonated her. It would just be your word against mine. And right now your word probably isn’t worth much.”

  “I’ll volunteer to take a lie detector test. Do you think you can pass one, too? Think hard, because you’re looking at charges of being an accessory to murder.”

  The woman’s face grew pale. “I haven’t killed anyone. I played the part of Lena Clani while the woman was away visiting relatives or something.”

  “And what were you doing staying with Paul Natoni? I followed you from his trailer.”

  “He’s my boyfriend, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Just how long has this been going on?”

  She smiled. “For months. Paul was just faking an interest in Justine. He was going to humiliate her and ruin her reputation with the police department. I was going to sneak in and take some photos of them in bed, then he’d spread them around. He wanted to strike back at the police department because of what happened to his stepbrother Carlton.”

  “So where is the real Lena?”

  “I have no idea. Jeremiah told Paul that she was away visiting relatives. She probably never even knew we were there. We left it just the way we found it.”

  “Then what about Justine? Did you help Paul kill her? And cut her up into pieces?”

  “Me? Are you crazy? No way. Paul wanted to ruin her reputation, but that’s all. You were the one that killed her, not us.”

  “Just how well do you know Jeremiah, Paul’s stepfather?”

  “Paul and he are close, so I’ve seen him a bunch of times.”

  “Has he ever asked you to do anything for him?”

  Lupe shrugged. “Nothing like what Paul and I were doing to trash Justine’s reputation, if that’s what you mean. All I ever did was loan him some outdated, surplus medical supplies and tools.”

  “What kind of supplies and to
ols?”

  “A surgical saw, scalpels, painkillers, and bandages.”

  Ella felt a shudder touch her spine. “Why would he need all that?”

  “Jeremiah told me that he needed to amputate the leg of a calf that had been caught in a trap. It had gotten infected. He’d received training on trauma and first aid in the military, so he knew what to do.”

  Ella considered it for a moment. Those tools could have been used to cut up Justine’s body after she was killed, but then why the bandages? Did they torture her first? “Did you provide him with any other drugs? And think hard on this,” she added.

  She hesitated, then continued. “I gave him some phenmetrazine hydrochloride. It’s a diet aid used as an appetite suppressant. It has some bad side effects, making a person edgy and paranoid if they get an overdose, but I warned him about that.”

  “Did he tell you what he wanted it for?”

  “No, but I didn’t ask. I trust him.”

  Ella knew now why Natoni had met so often with Justine for breakfast. Jeremiah had passed the drug along to Paul, who’d probably given Justine a dose of the drug each morning in her food. By the time she got to work, she was ready for a confrontation. The question was, what else had their plans entailed?

  “What did they have planned for Justine?” Ella added. She needed to learn all she could, and quickly. Other cars were pulling into the parking lot now for the day shift, and several of the staff would recognize her.

  “Nothing, except what I’ve already told you. All I did was pretend to be her shrewish aunt. Paul told me what I needed to know ahead of time. He didn’t get the chance to seduce her because she turned up dead. But you know more about that than I do. You’re the suspect, not me.”

  “You’re not out of this yet, Lupe. You’ll have to account for your time the night of the murder, and I hope you have a solid alibi.”