by Aimée
Ella swallowed an oath. “As long as you taught her how to use it, she’ll reach for it if there’s an emergency.”
Ella pulled up in front of the hogan an hour later. It was pitch black outside, but at least the moon was starting to come out from behind the clouds.
Naomi came to the entrance and waved at her, inviting her to come inside. The soft flicker of a kerosene-powered lamp glowed from within.
Ella gathered the mug shot books and went inside. The light was brighter there, but it was still dimmer than she would have preferred. “Can you see those photos clearly? Maybe I can drive you to a café or something.”
Naomi laughed. “I can see just fine. If you’re hungry, I can heat up some stew and you can have a can of peaches.”
“No, I’m okay. I’d rather have you look through these books than fuss over me.”
Time seemed to drag as Naomi turned page after page, carefully examining each photo. “None of these faces look right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am,” Naomi said, leafing through the last of the thick volumes.
Ella stood up and stretched her cramped knees. She walked to the doorway and peered out. The moon was bright, and the clouds, at least for now, were gone. The dry plateau looked as if it had been painted in a variety of blue grays.
Naomi Zah was watching her as she turned around. “I could try to use my crystal again. Maybe I’ll get something this time that can help you.” The old woman picked up a small pouch and pulled out a quartz crystal. “Would you accept this type of help?”
“I’ll be grateful for anything that points me in the right direction,” Ella said, wondering if perhaps Naomi needed that to jog her own memory. Cursing herself for not having thought of it sooner, she gave Naomi an encouraging smile. “Please try.”
“Sometimes it takes a while,” Naomi warned, “and sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.”
“That’s okay. Time is not important.”
Naomi regarded her for a long moment. “You’re restless, though. I don’t think I can do this around you. I’ll go outside and stand under the stars behind the hogan. Don’t interrupt me.”
“I won’t. I’ll be close by though, okay?”
Naomi walked outside and stood facing west, the crystal in her palm. She stared into it as if mesmerized.
Ella watched for several long moments, but Naomi seemed oblivious to everything around her. Ella listened to the chirping of the cicadas, their rhythmic, familiar sound soothing her nerves.
As Ella waited, a flicker of movement to her left caught her eye. She turned her head, studying the area. A shadow was moving between the brambles, heading slowly toward the mesa behind the hogan.
Ella slipped forward far enough out of the glow coming from the hogan’s entrance to lose her silhouette. Someone had been watching them! Tension coiled inside her as she realized whoever was there was probably up to no good. There was no reason for hiding, otherwise.
She glanced back at Naomi. As long as the stargazer was concentrating solely on the crystal, she was vulnerable. She did have one thing in her favor, however. In the faint evening light, dressed in earth tones, she would make a difficult target to all but a marksman.
Ella hesitated, not wanting to interrupt Naomi and knowing there was no way to avoid it. Ella approached her and tried not to cringe when Naomi glared at her. “Go back inside the hogan,” Ella warned in a whisper, “and wait there with your shotgun. Someone’s out here, watching us, and I’m going to find out who it is. I’ll whistle when I come back.” She saw the expression on Naomi’s face change from annoyance to fear. “We’ll be okay,” Ella assured her.
Ella crept away from the hogan, listening as she went. She suddenly had the feeling she was being led into a trap. He was waiting for her. Ella slowed her progress and listened. It was hard to disguise all sound in a rocky terrain filled with stunted junipers. He was bound to give his position away if she was patient. Scarcely breathing, she remained still. Several seconds elapsed, then she caught a soft padding sound, like someone moving in moccasins or sneakers farther ahead.
Ella continued in the direction of the sound. The route up the low mesa was steep, crisscrossed with narrow gullies that seemed to slice portions out of the mesa itself. Ella was almost all the way to the top when she glanced back toward the hogan. For a terrifying second she considered the possibility that she’d been led away on purpose.
Ella stepped closer to the sloped edge of the mesa, trying to get a clear view of the ground below. Suddenly an arm snaked out from behind a cluster of thorny brush and pushed her forward, hard. Her feet slid on the rocky footing, and she slipped off the edge, sliding several feet down the cliff face. Ella grasped desperately at the rocks and dirt, slowing her descent as she twisted her lower body toward a narrow ledge.
She fell hard onto the tiny shelf a second later. Hip throbbing, she rolled to a sitting position, pressing her back to the wall. There was no room to stand. To make matters worse, the cliff overhung just enough so she couldn’t see the top of the mesa anymore. Ella shifted, assessing her situation and trying not to panic.
Then she felt a vibration above her. The overhang consisted of a large chunk of sandstone, but someone was jumping up and down on it, hoping to dislodge it. If it fell, she’d probably either be crushed beneath the rubble or knocked off the ledge by a two-ton rock. Either way, her chances for survival were slim.
She heard her attacker’s labored breathing as he continued to stomp on the overhang. Then he stopped jumping and began scraping at the rock, grunting mightily. She heard the sound of wood creaking, and finally breaking with a loud snap. She realized he was trying to use some form of a pry to force the rock apart. She fought the desperate urge to reach for her gun and fire upward, but the odds of the bullet hitting a rock and ricocheting back on her were too great.
Then abruptly, it was silent, except for the sound of her attacker’s labored breath. Ella remained still, waiting to see what his next move would be. If he tried to climb down for her, he’d find himself face-to-face with her nine millimeter, with his back to the sky.
Ella waited. At long last, she heard soft running footsteps. She took several deep breaths. She had to get out of here, for her sake and Naomi’s. Ella crawled to the edge of the rock shelf, heart pounding, and reached up. Twice she pulled back, her balance precarious and courage failing her. Finally she managed to gain a handhold and pulled herself up the jagged cliff face. Minutes later, Ella scrambled over the overhang to the mesa’s summit, then quickly rolled behind cover.
Tumbleweed branches tore into her long-sleeved blouse, scratching her arms until they drew blood. It hurt, but she consoled herself with the thought that if the vicious plant had drawn her blood, it might have taken a bit of her attacker’s flesh or sleeve too. A blood or fabric sample would add pieces to the puzzle that would eventually send him to jail.
Hearing loud, running footsteps moving down the side of the mesa facing away from the hogan, Ella shot forward in pursuit. She scrambled down the west side of the rocky hill, using the boulders for cover until she reached the bottom of the mesa. The figure ahead was barely a shadow that flitted among the pines and scrub brush.
Ella raced gamely after him, but he had quite a head start. Trying to increase her own speed in the dark, she tripped on a root. She went tumbling shoulder first into a clump of sagebrush before she could come to a stop. As she scrambled to her feet, she heard the sound of a vehicle speeding off.
Ella rubbed her shoulder, anger spiraling through her. At least it hadn’t been a total failure. If her attacker was the killer, she would now have a good chance of finding tire prints, footprints, and possibly a sample of blood and fabric.
Of course that was a mighty big “if.” But it was about time for the tide of events to change. She touched the badger fetish still in her back pocket. Maybe it already had.
SIXTEEN
Ella remembered to whistle as she returned to the hogan. It
was a good thing, because Naomi was standing just inside the doorway with the shotgun cradled in her arms. Her face was unmarred by worry lines, however. If anything, there seemed to be an air of acceptance about her.
“It was him,” she said calmly. “He came back to complete the job he started. Only he’s discovering that this old woman isn’t the easy target he expected.” She patted the shotgun like it was a faithful dog.
“Did you see him when he came down off the mesa, or maybe catch a glimpse of his car?”
“No. But it was him.” Naomi’s voice was strangely without anger. It was the same tone one might expect from someone simply stating a fact.
Ella stared at Naomi, wondering how she could remain so cool about it. “I wish I had caught him. I would have enjoyed putting my handcuffs on this guy.”
Ella used the radio in her unit to call in a report. Though she really hadn’t seen enough to afford any leads, she still had some usable information. She also requested that roadblocks be set up immediately in both directions down the highway and kept in place for at least eight hours, providing manpower was available. She then asked officers to look for anyone resembling the suspect Victor had sketched. She also asked them to take down the names and license numbers of all the men between the ages of eighteen and thirty who passed through the roadblock.
Ella turned and noticed Naomi had come over to join her. “So now he also wants you dead,” Naomi said. “You’ve stopped him from doing what he wanted and he won’t forgive you for that.” Naomi handed her a dampened washcloth to clean up her scratches.
“His wishes don’t concern me in the slightest,” Ella said, then smiled. “It’s my job to stop him, and I guarantee you, I will.”
“I’m sure you will. Everyone knows you’re very special.”
Ella resisted the urge to sigh and instead focused on wiping the traces of blood and dirt from where her skin had been rubbed raw. It was difficult to accept the People’s view of her. She wanted to be known as an excellent cop, not a pseudo-magician. “My mother thinks so,” she joked halfheartedly, handing the washcloth back to the old woman.
Naomi shook her head. “You shouldn’t make jokes about this.”
“Sometimes I have to,” Ella replied softly, then shifted her focus to the radio as Big Ed was patched through.
After she finished bringing her boss up to date, she turned back to Naomi. “There’ll be a crime scene unit coming by. Justine will be coming too. We may be able to get some information from the land itself.”
Naomi shook her head. “Not unless they hurry. Can you smell and feel the moisture in the air? It’s going to rain hard soon.”
Ella suspected Naomi was right, but she also knew that it was possible it would rain in torrents half a mile away, yet remain dry here. That was often the case in the desert. Clinging to that hope, Ella accompanied Naomi back inside the hogan. “Do you remember how to use the CB?”
Naomi nodded once. “But it won’t do any good. If I’m in danger, by the time anyone can respond, it will be too late. I have to continue taking care of myself.”
“Can you go away for a while, stay with relatives?”
“I’m waiting for my husband, Raymond, to return.”
“How long has he been gone?”
“Six days, but that’s his way. He’ll be back soon enough. Then we’ll leave.”
“Do you want me to see if one of our officers can locate him for you?”
Naomi considered it. “No. He’ll be back when he’s ready. It’s better that way.”
Ella heard the gusts of wind swirling outside. “I’m going to go back uphill. Maybe I can collect some evidence and preserve it against the weather. Stay here, and keep your shotgun handy, okay?”
Naomi shook her head, concern written on her face. “It isn’t wise to go up there when there’s going to be lightning.”
“There isn’t any—” A thundering fork of energy suddenly illuminated the entire mesa like a nuclear strobe light, and two seconds later the ground shook with the shock of expanding air. “Well, there wasn’t until now,” she conceded with a smile. “But no matter. I still have to go up there. I’ve got to do what I can to protect the crime scene.”
Stopping long to pick up a flashlight and some evidence pouches from her car, Ella hurried up onto the mesa. The winds that usually preceded rain were gusting strong now. She ran toward the bramble that had snagged her clothing. Cutting away several branches that had some cloth fibers and perhaps traces of blood, she quickly placed them inside an evidence pouch.
Ella then hurried downhill to the area where she’d heard the vehicle. Ella studied the tire tracks, quickly stepping off the distance between imprints to determine the wheelbase of the vehicle. From this information, she concluded her assailant had driven a small sedan rather than a pickup. She made a quick sketch of a tire tread pattern, then found a good footprint. It was a Nike cross-trainer. That observation alone made her heart beat faster, and she hoped the guy would try and pass through the roadblocks. Even if he was waved through, she’d still have his name on a list.
Suddenly the skies seemed to open up and sheets of rain began pouring down on her. There was nothing she could do except move fast. The dry wash where the suspect’s vehicle had been parked wasn’t going to be dry much longer. She scrambled out of the way just as water began to flow down from around the bend in the canyon. Soon it would be ankle deep or higher.
Taking the evidence pouch and holding it close against her, she raced back to the car. The pouch was soaked, and so was she by the time she dove inside her vehicle, but at least she’d preserved the cloth fibers. If the brush had snagged his clothing, or scraped him as it had her, she’d have one more piece of evidence to use against him.
Ella saw the downpour begin to saturate the sand around her vehicle. If she didn’t move her car soon, she could be stuck here all night. She drove to the higher ground beside the hogan. As soon as she parked, Ella called in a warning about the weather to the others who were on the way, telling those officers at the roadblocks to watch for a man wearing Nike cross-trainers.
Duty finished, Ella racked the mike. The downpour was making it impossible for her to see more than a foot beyond the windshield. With a resigned sigh, she left the vehicle and raced back to the hogan.
Naomi was sitting inside, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She had a small fire going in the little woodstove, and the hogan was cozy. “He won’t be back right away. I think your presence surprised him.”
“I wish you wouldn’t insist on staying out here alone. You should come with me now and leave a note for your husband. Ask him to contact me, and I’ll let him know where to meet you.”
Naomi shook her head. “I’ll wait. My husband is in no danger from this man.”
Ella blinked. She also didn’t believe that the stargazer’s husband was in danger from the killer—it didn’t fit the profile—but Naomi’s accurate conclusion took her by surprise. “You saw that in the crystal?”
The woman smiled, then shook her head. “I know the other two who were killed. We helped the Dineh with our own special knowledge. Poor Raymond’s only specialty is the bottle.”
Ella studied the woman’s expression. For the first time she realized just how badly she’d underestimated Naomi. Her abilities went far beyond the services she provided to the tribe.
* * *
Ella joined the crime-scene unit when they arrived and turned over the evidence pouch and her sketch. They worked together in the downpour, searching for any remaining scrap of evidence her assailant had left behind. Dedication and tenacity, however, could not compensate for the terrible weather conditions that made any significant discoveries unlikely.
Finally, soaked to the skin, they all met in the van. “If the perp dropped anything,” Justine told Ella, “it’s buried in a sea of mud. We’ll come back out tomorrow and search the area again in daylight, but don’t count on us finding much.”
As they prepared to leave,
Ella left the van and returned to the hogan. She said good-bye to Naomi, amazed at the woman’s determination to remain there. “Remember to radio in if you suspect trouble. We’ll have a unit patrol the area, just in case.”
Naomi’s calm smile followed Ella as she returned to her car and headed for the highway. So far the killer had kept the upper hand. Events continued to defy her attempt to reestablish order, but that only challenged her to try even harder. It was part of her nature, part of everything she was, both as a cop and a Navajo.
* * *
Ella woke up early the next morning. She’d been exhausted, and had slept almost from the moment her head hit the pillow. Yet after more than eight hours, she still felt weary. Her muscles were sore from yesterday’s exertion, but the scratches from the brush had scabbed over. She pulled back the curtains and peered outside. The sun would be up soon. The skies in the east were washed in vivid lavenders and crimsons brought out by the thin layer of atmospheric dust always present in the Southwest.
She dressed slowly, mentally sorting out how she would handle the investigation today, and what she would tell Big Ed.
The roadblocks hadn’t resulted in the arrest of a suspect yet. If anyone had been detained, she would have received a call by now. Roadblocks, in Ella’s experience, produced results only when the people manning them knew exactly who they were looking for. In this case, her assailant could be waiting somewhere on one of the back roads until the police left. Or it was possible he lived close enough to Naomi’s not to have encountered a roadblock at all. By this morning, the roadblocks would be down, and all she’d have would be a list of names to check.
If only she could force the killer into revealing more about himself. Well, maybe the microscope would be able to tell them something about the man’s clothing, if the fibers she’d collected belonged to him. So far all she’d confirmed was that the killer and the man who pushed Ella off the ledge both preferred Nike cross-trainers and could be the same person.
