by Aimée
Ella took the chain. Fingerprints would be useless now. She’d known that Peterson’s allies would make some move against them, but she hadn’t expected this.
Clifford stood by his child and, reaching into his medicine pouch, began to chant in a soft voice. The nurse started to order him out again, but then, after one look from Clifford, changed her mind. She went over to check another tiny patient in her care.
Rose walked out with Ella. “My grandson will be fine. There are ways to counter this. He will grow to be strong and healthy,” she assured Ella.
“How is Justine, Mother? I haven’t gone to see her yet.”
“She was recovering well last I heard. I haven’t had a chance to stop by her room since just before you called.” Rose patted her daughter’s hand. “Don’t worry. She’s not been neglected. She may even have company right now. A young man called just a while ago asking about her. I took the call for her because the nurse had taken her to X-ray.”
Ella stopped suddenly. “What young man? Nobody besides immediate family is supposed to know she’s even here.”
Rose paled. “He didn’t give his name. It couldn’t be…”
“What’s her room number, Mom? Quickly.”
“It’s 328. Go past the children’s ward and turn left.”
Ella was already halfway down the hall, checking numbers on the doors as she ran. Pulling out her radio, she ordered all officers to keep an eye out for Furman Brownhat and gave a description. Then she made a specific call. “Report in, whoever is assigned to watch Officer Justine Goodluck’s room. Report in now!”
Ella entered the stairwell and ran up the stairs. She’d been on the second floor, but she didn’t have time for the elevator. A call came through while she was climbing, but the message was garbled, probably because of the metal stairs.
Bursting out the heavy door, Ella looked at the number of the closest door. It was 312. “Repeat your message, I didn’t copy,” she yelled.
The radio crackled. “This is Officer Lujan. I’m just outside Goodluck’s door. Everything looks clear.”
Ella heaved a sigh of relief and slowed to a jog. “Stay in position, no matter what. I’m almost at your 20.” Ella placed the radio back on her hip and slowed to a walk as a young couple came her way. She saw them stare at her, but they glanced away as soon as she met their gazes. Ella felt as if she’d been running a marathon, and guessing from their expressions, probably looked it too.
As she passed the hall door leading into the children’s ward, Ella had the sensation that someone was watching her. She stopped, placed her hand on the butt of her pistol, and turned back to look through the window in the door. Several beds in the ward had children in them, but only one adult was present, bending over, talking to a child. Her heart stopped as the adult turned around and she saw Furman look directly at her.
Before she could even respond, he ran out the door at the other end of the ward. Ella hurried after him, radio in hand, reporting Furman’s position and direction of travel to all the officers within range. As she passed one small child, Ella looked to see if she had been hurt. The little girl smiled, and said hi.
“Hi,” Ella said, and managed a smile. Increasing her speed, she slipped out the same doors Furman had just exited, then looked around. There was only one way to go. Another stairwell was at the end of the hall.
Calling out her position over the radio, Ella reached the stairwell door and peeked through the window. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could hear footsteps going down the metal steps. Without hesitation, she followed.
Taking three steps at a time, Ella flew down the stairs. She passed the second-floor landing, then the first, following the running footsteps just ahead of her. Finally she burst through the door to the basement and ran right into Carolyn Roanhorse.
“What’s going on? First somebody runs past my office full speed, then you almost knock me down,” Carolyn complained.
“I’m after a killer, a young man. How many ways are there out of here?” Ella was breathing hard, but thinking clearly.
“There are only two ways to leave: up the stairs you came down, and the elevator.” Carolyn waved her hand in the direction of the elevator, less than ten feet away.
“Did the guy take the elevator?”
“No, he went toward the morgue.” Carolyn looked down the hall anxiously.
“Do you have keys to the stairwell?” Ella took her pistol in hand.
Carolyn nodded. “Sure, they’re right here in my pocket.”
“Give them to me, then take the elevator up and switch it off, so nobody can use it. Tell the officers you find to come back down in the elevator, armed and ready. I’m locking myself, and him, in.”
Carolyn handed her the keys and ran to the elevator as Ella locked the door leading to the stairs. “You shouldn’t do this alone,” Carolyn called back.
“Go, and don’t worry. This is what I do.”
Ella, watching the hallway closely, radioed instructions to the other officers in the building. She would have help coming down soon, but meanwhile, Furman could not leave the floor.
Carolyn got on the elevator, and in a few seconds the doors began to close. “Be careful,” Carolyn called out.
Placing her radio back on her belt, Ella walked slowly and silently down the hall. The first room was Carolyn’s office, and Ella could tell at a glance it was empty. Moving cautiously, Ella reached in, locked the door, and pulled it shut. Then she proceeded toward the morgue itself.
The floor was completely silent. She suppressed a shudder. Walking wide to the right so Furman could not grab her as she entered the room, Ella peered to her left toward the place where the bodies were stored. Three gleaming chrome and steel gurneys in front of it were empty, white sheets fresh and ready, but two carts on the other side of the room held covered bodies. Although it was customary to leave the feet dangling out from under the white sheets so the toe tags could be read, both bodies were completely hidden.
Ella watched the bodies for a second. They were completely still; she couldn’t detect even the slightest breathing motion. She decided to bypass the bodies for now. If she was lucky, she’d find Furman some other place first. Walking so both bodies were within her field of view, Ella edged over to the door of the autopsy room. She glanced quickly through the window, but the tile and metal room seemed empty. Bringing the keys in her pocket out with her left hand, Ella glanced up at the autopsy room number and down at the keys. Finding the right key, she quickly locked the door. If Furman was inside, he would stay there until help arrived.
Standing back from the covered bodies, Ella put the keys into her pocket and retrieved her radio. Quickly she reported her actions, and learned that four officers would soon be coming down in the elevator.
Reattaching the radio to her belt, Ella tried to decide if she wanted to peek under the sheets now or wait for the other officers to arrive. Circling around the gurneys with the bodies, Ella waited patiently. If he was underneath one of the sheets, Furman was being very still.
A quick glance around revealed there were no other hiding places. Either Furman was locked in the autopsy room or he was masquerading as a corpse. Then she noticed a smudge mark on one of the sheets. It was near the edge, on the far side. She brought her pistol up, ready, and moved closer. “Okay, Furman. It’s time to stop the game. You have nowhere to run anymore. Come out with your hands where I can see them.”
Her only response was the same eerie, lifeless silence that had encompassed her since Carolyn had left the floor. Ella stepped to within three feet of the gurney. The mark on the sheet was a footprint. She stared at it for a moment. Slowly, comprehension dawned on her. Ella looked up quickly just as Furman came crashing down through the ceiling tiles from above.
He collided hard against her, the full force of the blow slamming her in the middle of her back. Ella fell heavily to the floor, losing her pistol in the process. Furman spotted it and moved toward the weapon, but Ella grabbed at his
leg and twisted his ankle as he kicked out.
Furman groaned in pain. “Let go, you bitch!”
With both hands on his ankle, Ella rolled over, gaining enough leverage in the move to roll Furman with her, farther away from the pistol. “Give it up, you little asshole.” Furman would never be able to defeat her in a hand-to-hand fight. All she needed was to get a little closer to him, and she could put him down for good.
Suddenly there was a flash of silver, and instant recognition caused Ella to jerk her hands back from Furman’s leg. The scalpel missed her hands completely, but sank into Furman’s own calf at least halfway. He screamed and scrambled to a sitting position, leaving the blade in place. Ella quickly reached for the backup pistol in her boot, but the fight had gone out of Furman. He arched his back and cried like a child as blood gushed from the jagged wound. Ella stared, almost feeling sorry for him.
The other officers arrived a minute later. By then, Ella had the Packrat in cuffs and was trying to stem the flow of blood.
* * *
A half hour later, Ella was back with her mother, standing outside the room where her brother and his wife were both asleep. Ella was beyond sleep at the moment, but she knew that when it finally came she would be out for a whole day.
Ella glanced at her mother. “Our family, and our tribe, have been through so much the last few weeks. Has the danger finally passed?”
Rose shut her eyes for several moments, then opened them again. “Yes, for now, we are safe. You can rest, daughter,” she answered softly, then smiled. “Maybe you should call Wilson. Spending a quiet evening together would do you both worlds of good.”
“Rest? Quiet evening?” Ella chuckled and shook her head. “No way. I’ve finished the fieldwork, true, and the Packrat is locked up and under guard. But now I’ve got to face the real scourge of every cop’s life.”
“I don’t understand. What can be worse than what you’ve already confronted?”
“Paperwork,” Ella answered. Giving her mother a quick hug, she headed for the exit.
“Those who appreciate the details of Navajo attitudes and culture will enjoy the Ella Clah mysteries as much as they do the Leaphorn/Chee stories by Hillerman. Subtle humor makes the story even more enjoyable.”
—Baton Rouge Advocate, Louisiana
“A satisfying combination of a right-now heroine and an age-old culture. The authors have created grittily convincing atmosphere and landscapes for the Clah novels, the Southwest desert’s sweeping scenery forming an ironically sublime backdrop for people whose natural dignity and profound spirituality belies the bare-bones poverty in which they live. Death Walker allows valuable glimpses into an ancient culture as well as probing the eternal clash between good and evil.”
—The Armchair Detective
“Winning. Death Walker is as much about family and roots as it is suspense and mystery. Characters confront superstitious enmity with modern technology, patience, and understanding. They keep the story and the reader moving forward; there are no boring pages. A great read. The Thurlos provide Tony Hillerman with good company on the sunburnt sands and hills of the Southwest.”
—Cape Coral Breeze, Florida
“A brilliant and colorful mystery narrative that gives a clear insight into the Navajo lifestyle in contemporary New Mexico. This is ethnic fiction at its best with the mystery used as a brilliant device to impart knowledge about the dichotomy between the Navajo and Anglo world views.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“A pretty fun read, one that will help Hillerman fans fill the spaces between his mysteries. Ella Clah is a complex, well-crafted character with both strengths and flaws that make her appealing to readers. I never wanted to quit reading. The story is steeped in authenticity. If Hillerman ever retires [the Thurlos] will be the obvious heirs apparent.”
—Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph
“The Thurlos use their impressive writing skill to come up with a thriller that combines the best of southwestern mysteries with the terror of thrillers like The Silence of the Lambs. Death Walker, replete with Indian lore, intriguing vignettes, and an exciting plot will keep you hooked from first to last.”
—Romantic Times
ELLA CLAH NOVELS
Blackening Song
Death Walker
Bad Medicine
Enemy Way
Shooting Chant
Red Mesa
Changing Woman
Tracking Bear
OTHER BOOKS BY AIMÉE & DAVID THURLO
Black Mesa
Second Shadow
Spirit Warrior
Timewalker
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
DEATH WALKER
Copyright © 1996 by Aimée & David Thurlo
All rights reserved.
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Forge® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Thurlo, Aimée.
Death walker : an Ella Clah novel / by Aimée and David Thurlo.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 0-312-85651-2 (hc)
ISBN 0-765-30651-4 (tpbk)
1. Navajo Indians—Fiction. 2. Police women—Fiction. I. Thurlo, David. II. Title.
PS3570.H82 D4 1996
813'.54—dc20
95-51556
CIP
First Hardcover Edition: June 1996
First Trade Paperback Edition: March 2003
eISBN 9781466847897
First eBook edition: May 2013
