by Aimée
“What do you say we go question him?” Big Ed asked. “With the vest he was wearing, he has only broken ribs and flesh wounds, so the doctors have already put him in a private room. I’ve assigned two officers to watch him full-time.”
“He’s not going to talk,” Ella warned as they headed toward the floor where the prisoner was being held. “He’s too smart to further incriminate himself. There’s too much hatred in him, and he knows that in New Mexico he’ll probably be out of jail before he’s an old man.”
“We still have enough to send him away for quite a while. Let’s remind him of that, and see what else we can get from him,” Big Ed said.
“I’d like to be in on the questioning, but first I have to call in some reports,” Agent Payestewa said, stopping at the elevator. “Can you give me a half hour or so before you see him?”
“Sure,” Big Ed said. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Ella told Big Ed about her encounters with Harry Ute and Begaye, the fugitive he’d been after, then took the time to call her mother, even speaking to Dawn over the phone for a few moments. Rose promised to let Clifford know, as well.
An hour later, the three sat in the prisoner’s hospital room with the suspect.
Manyfarms was sitting up in bed, handcuffed to the rail. He regarded them with pure hatred in his eyes.
“You can have an attorney present,” Ella reminded him.
“I don’t plan on saying anything, so I don’t need to waste my attorney’s time.”
The implication was, of course, that he was quite willing to waste Payestewa’s, Big Ed’s, and her time. Taking a deep breath, Ella pushed back her anger. No sense in letting him press her buttons.
“You’re going to prison, Manyfarms. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind about that—including yours. So why not tell us everything now?” Ella said.
“Finding answers is your job, not mine,” Manyfarms said flatly. “I admit nothing.”
“We could try and make things easier for you,” Ella said vaguely, knowing that the truth was that the tribe would never cut a deal with him after what he’d done to a police officer, and probably Justine’s aunt.
Jeremiah shook his head. “Nice try, but everyone knows about the corruption that’s rampant in this department and in our tribal government. Your word means nothing and has no value.”
“That’s George Branch talking now. Was he working with you?” Payestewa pressed. “Do you rehearse your tirades together?”
Manyfarms smiled. “You’ll never get an honest answer from me.”
“It wasn’t anyone I know who caught me from behind at the Farmington Mall, then pushed me in front of the van. Was it one of the twins?” Ella had spoken to Sergeant Neskahi on the phone, and although he’d seen all the mall security tapes, her assailant’s face had been shaded by a cap. They had no leads on the perp.
“Why ask me? I wasn’t there.” Jeremiah smiled.
“You realize that you’re only making things look even worse for yourself,” Ella pointed out.
He shrugged. “I might end up spending a few years in a New Mexico prison, watching TV and taking my meals from their excellent salad bar, but before your daughter’s in high school, I’ll be out.” He held her eyes for a moment and added, “Maybe we’ll meet again.”
“You actually think you’ll be out in a few years?” Big Ed’s smile was almost feral.
“You can’t prove I murdered anyone,” Manyfarms said confidently.
“We won’t have to,” Payestewa said coldly. “Shooting Agent Blalock brings in a nasty federal rap, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Add kidnapping and the attempted murder of various police officers, and you could end up with forty years to life in a maximum-security federal prison.”
Manyfarms’ expression changed into one of pure hatred. “You’re still going to go down. Even if you get me out of the way, there are others who will take up the fight. The tribal government and its agencies are corrupt and will be disgraced. A new order will be established. It’s inevitable. And you and others like you will be nothing more than the low point in Navajo history.”
“Did you hear that on the radio or from the voices in your head?” Big Ed snapped.
Manyfarms smiled. “You’ll see.”
Forty-five minutes later, the questioning ended. As Manyfarms had promised, it had been a futile exercise. Payestewa, Big Ed, and Ella looked back and forth at each other as they walked down the hall.
“If he’s not blowing smoke with his ‘new order’ propaganda, we solved one problem but can count on another waiting in the wings,” Big Ed said.
Payestewa nodded. “A conspiracy.”
Ella gave him a sharp look, but he seemed unaware of it. She forced herself to relax. “We’ll face the battles that lie ahead when we have to, but in the meantime, let’s enjoy this victory. And, guys, putting Manyfarms away is a major victory, seeing what was at stake,” she added with a smile.
“Well said,” Big Ed said as they reached the hospital entrance.
They left the building, separated, and headed toward their individual cars.
Long before she reached Herman’s truck, Ella saw Kevin Tolino approaching from across the parking lot. Not in the mood to talk to him, she kept walking, trying to ignore him. Right now, all she wanted to do was go home and hug her daughter.
“Ella, I came to congratulate you,” Kevin yelled, hurrying to catch her.
“Thank you,” she said coldly, still not stopping to talk.
“I have some news of my own to share,” he added. “I’ll be running for the Tribal Council next election for sure. I have some major supporters behind me, and we think I can win.”
Ella thought about what Manyfarms had said only a few minutes earlier. “Are you certain that’s what you want? You’ll be living in a goldfish bowl, and everything you do will be scrutinized—including your private life.”
He nodded. “I realize that and it’s why I’m here. I just wanted you to know I won’t be able to visit with Dawn as often as I have been. My schedule is going to become very crowded. Once I’m elected, of course, we can go back to the way things were.”
“Many things may change by then—including you,” Ella said slowly, not bothering to mention that Kevin’s visits to his daughter hadn’t been “often” in any sense of the word, and that if he cut back much more in seeing her, he wouldn’t be coming at all.
“No, not me. This is what I’ve worked for all these years. I’ve always wanted to be in a position to influence the future of our tribe. It’ll just be the culmination of my goals.”
So for Kevin, it was all about power, as she’d suspected all along. He was perfectly willing to choose the Navajo way of raising a child, with less paternal input and more help from her family, because it suited him to place his very Anglo personal ambition first. Part of her believed that two attentive parents were necessary, but that modernist influence wasn’t going to make much difference without Kevin’s participation.
He obviously had plans that excluded close family ties, and for that reason, she wondered if Dawn would be better off without him in her life. Either way, it was out of her hands now. “Good luck.”
“Thank you. And I’ll count on your vote.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that if I were you, Kevin,” she said, then walked away.
TWENTY-NINE
Ella stirred the large kettle of pinto beans warming over the red-hot coals as their guests milled about the backyard. Big Ed and a majority of officers and staff from the police station had come, as well as family and friends from all around the reservation. A month had passed since Justine had been rescued, and this celebration was long overdue.
Herman Cloud came up to join Ella. “I have a feeling you’re going to miss my old truck. Nothing except the police cars—maybe—run as well as mine.” He winked.
Ella laughed. “You’ve sure done a great job with that engine! But that four-barrel carb sure eats up the push-toe
,” she joked, using an old Navajo term for gasoline.
“You can borrow it anytime, as long as you keep the tank full. I won’t make that offer to anyone else.”
“I’m honored!”
Wilson walked over as Herman moved away, and helped her reposition some of the charcoal in the fire pit below the grill, then turned over some hamburgers and placed those that were done onto a large serving plate. “There’s enough food here for an army,” he said. “It’s good to see that some things never change. Rose never likes to see anyone go home even remotely hungry.” He smiled.
“There’s more to it than that this time,” Ella whispered. “Mom invited a lot of people, but only half—if that—showed up today.”
Wilson grew serious. “That had occurred to me. You know the stories about you and the legacy are still going around. A lot of people were convinced that you’d turned to evil, and they’re having a hard time letting go of that belief even now. It’s like one of those urban legends that takes on a life of its own.”
“I had a feeling that would happen.”
“Why aren’t Clifford and Loretta here? Is Loretta still angry because he hasn’t been giving much time to her and Julian?” Wilson asked.
“I honestly don’t know. They were invited, but with the marital problems they’re having, I’m not sure even he will come.”
As Justine came out of the kitchen and into the yard, Wilson caught her eye, waved, and went to join her. Ella could see Justine respond to Wilson’s presence, smiling brightly and allowing him to drape his arm over her shoulder protectively as they walked. Ella smiled. There was nothing that would please her more than seeing Wilson and Justine make a go of things. He’d been to see her every day recently, Ella had heard.
She looked around once more, wishing Harry Ute could have come, but understanding that his job had taken him elsewhere. It was odd how things worked out sometimes. She’d known Harry for a long time, and there’d never been anything between them. But something about Harry had changed, and now she found herself thinking about him a lot.
“Looks like those two have discovered each other.”
“What?” Ella turned and found Clifford standing behind her.
“Our cousin and teacher friend,” he explained.
Ella nodded. “Yes, they do seem to have found some chemistry, haven’t they?” She pushed Harry out of her thoughts for the moment. “I’m so glad you came, brother! I was worried about you. How are things going?”
“My wife and I are together again,” he said, gesturing toward Loretta and Julian, who was giving his grandmother Rose a hug. “But we still have a lot of problems to work out. We’re taking it a day at a time.”
“It’s a good plan.”
Clifford look past her, up onto the hill above the house. “I wondered how long it would be before that nonsense started up again.”
Ella followed his line of vision. “What the—”
“Our family’s watchers.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen anymore,” Ella said. Kevin and she had made an agreement shortly after Dawn’s birth that he would put a stop to his family’s intrusions.
“But it’s not a complete surprise, is it?”
“No, I suppose not. The one up there now looks like the mother of my child’s father.” She paused. “I wonder how far the Bitter Water Clan would go to protect the tribe from what they perceive as evil.”
“May we never know,” Clifford said.
The party lasted on into the night, with people coming and going constantly. Seeing Dawn asleep on a big, fluffy comforter set inside her sandbox, Ella picked up her daughter and carried her inside.
“No bed. Not tired,” Dawn protested, struggling to keep her eyes open.
“I’ll tell you what. Would you like to lie down on my bed for a while?”
The idea went over well, and Dawn stopped fussing. Ella went to her own bedroom and set her daughter down, then covered her with the blanket her mother had crocheted.
“Stay!” Dawn protested as Ella started toward the door.
“All right. I’ll work at my computer, but you have to close your eyes.” Ella knew that her daughter would be asleep within a few minutes.
Sitting at her desk on the other side of the bed, Ella turned on the machine and logged on. She’d check E-mail quickly, then go back outside as soon as Dawn nodded off.
As she clicked on the icon for mail, an instant message came on the screen. It was from Coyote.
Congratulations again on winning this battle. But the war is not over. The conspiracy against your tribe has not been dealt a lethal blow. Expect danger from almost any direction. They’ll be challenging you again.
“Who’s ‘they’?” she typed quickly, hoping he wouldn’t sign off like in the past without answering.
‘They’ are the unidentified power controlling Indian gambling from behind the scenes. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want on the Navajo Rez. Remain vigilant. You’re blocking their path, and that’s not a good place to be.
Before she could ask more, he was gone. Ella printed what was on-screen, then placed the message in her desk drawer before logging off.
For a few moments, she watched her daughter sleeping peacefully. She’d faced danger before and would do so again, but for now, she was home and her family was safe. They would all walk in beauty for a time.
Slipping quietly out of the room, she went to join her guests outside.
Look for
CHANGING WOMAN
coming in hardcover from Forge books.
In Changing Woman, the next Ella Clah novel, a significant drop in tribal income inspires many Navajo to try to bring a casino to the Rez. But many are against gambling, fearing a rise in crime, alcohol abuse, and other problems. In this excerpt, Ella and Chief Atcitty attend a tribal meeting to discuss the casino plan, knowing that the police force will be condemned because they haven’t been able to control the increasingly violent vandalism plaguing the reservation.
Ella arrived before the meeting was to begin. She wanted to hang around and eavesdrop on the unguarded conversations of people when they first arrived.
As Ella got out of her unit, she saw Cecelia Yazzie waving at her.
“I’m surprised to see you here tonight, Ella,” she said, coming over to join her. “Your mother comes once in a while, but I don’t remember the last time you were here.”
“I was told that police protection was going to be discussed, and the Chief felt that we should be here to explain what we’ve been doing.”
“That’s a really good idea, but you might have a fight on your hands. I don’t think the police will have many friends here tonight.”
Seeing another acquaintance drive up, Cecelia waved at the other woman and with a quick good-bye to Ella, hurried away. Ella noted the relief on Cecelia’s face as she left, and suspected she’d been happy for an excuse to put some distance between them if the department was going to be on the hot seat.
As Ella approached the group of people clustered by the front door, no one said hello, made eye contact, or even nodded, though she was well known in the community. Her first impression had been right on target. People were intent on avoiding her. It was irritating to have the public treating her like the plague, but she concentrated on listening to snatches of the conversations going on around her.
It wasn’t until nearly everyone was inside and seated that she saw Mrs. Yellowhair, the late senator’s wife, and, a few minutes later, Big Ed gave her a nod as he slipped in and took one of the few remaining seats in the back.
The meeting opened with the Pledge of Allegiance, with everyone standing and participating. Ella was reminded again how patriotic the Dineh were, especially the elders, but there were a lot of modernists in the gathering tonight, and they were equal participants.
The Navajo equivalent of a town meeting began with a report on and discussion of the latest incidents of vandalism and the rising cost of auto repairs and insura
nce as a result. With many Navajos unable to afford insurance, the price of a new windshield seemed astronomical.
Ella noted that the speakers, taking their turns, spoke English, mostly, and probably considered themselves non-traditionalists. As talk shifted to the role of the police, the discussion grew heated and people began interrupting one other, a form of behavior usually not present on the Rez except when emotions ran high.
Then one man stood up and the room fell silent. He had a presence that commanded the attention of everyone. Ella recognized Rudy Brownhat as a member of the Fierce Ones, the traditionalist group that, until recently, had held a lot of power on this part of the Rez.
As he looked around the room before speaking, the silence was nearly absolute. “This entire crisis has tested us,” he began. “But instead of banding together to identify these criminals, we’ve allowed the incidents to divide us. That has weakened us far more than the actual crimes ever could. The Dineh has survived through the generations by working together as one and that’s what we need to do now.”
Cecelia Yazzie stood. “I don’t think the problem has anything to do with a lack of unity. Most of us have day jobs and, at night when we’re tired, that’s when the vandals hit. What we need is a strong police force, but the protection we’ve been given so far is weak and ineffective.”
Ruth Tsosie stood up then, taking the floor. “I think our police department needs new leadership—someone like Lieutenant Manuelito, perhaps. My niece lives over in Window Rock and she tells me that he’s found ways to stop the lawlessness. His district is quiet and peaceful. No one dares stir up trouble there. Although other places on the Rez are having problems, the Shiprock district is, by far, the worst.”
Ella hadn’t planned on speaking, but she couldn’t let this slide. Big Ed didn’t deserve to be shown so little respect. Manuelito was a grade A jerk and if he’d had success curbing crime around Window Rock, it was mostly due to luck, and because communities in that part of the Rez were totally different from theirs. Shiprock was a much bigger population center.
