Enemy Way

by Aimée

  As she knocked on the door of the next house, a young woman, about twenty and pregnant, came to the door. This time Ella was invited inside. Surprised, Ella accepted and entered the small living room.

  As she looked at the woman, she noticed her light-colored eyes. Her skin was also several shades lighter than Ella’s.

  “My mom was an Anglo,” the woman said, as if reading her mind. “I figured nobody around here was going to talk to you, and I was right. My name’s Lillian Peshlakai. I wanted to talk to you because I’m hoping if I help you, you can also help me.”

  “What is it that you need?” Ella asked cautiously.

  “My husband Michael and I just moved here from his mother’s home near Holbrook, Arizona. At first I thought it was my imagination, but now I’m sure that it isn’t. I’m originally from Albuquerque. I don’t believe in superstitions, but there’s something really weird about this neighborhood.”

  “Weird how?” Ella pressed.

  “Well, at night there’s this gang of young punks that make a nuisance out of themselves knocking over trash cans, playing loud music, breaking mailboxes, and spray painting their names all over. Nobody here does anything to stop it. I called the cops once, but when they came by, the neighbors got really upset. When I asked them why, I was told that the situation would be taken care of before too long, and I was not to interfere.”

  “Who told you this, and who did they say was going to take care of it?”

  “That’s just it. I got no answers. Both my neighbors practically told me to mind my own business after that point. But this is my business. Michael and I are buying this home from the tribe. It’ll go to our children after we’re gone. The same applies to the other residents here. That’s why I can’t understand why they don’t fight back. I asked Michael about this, and I think he knows what’s going on, but he never explained either. He told me to trust him, and I do, but things are beginning to scare me. Michael is a framer for a construction company, so he’s gone for long periods sometimes, and I’m the one who has to stay here alone.”

  Ella considered the matter. On the surface, the answer seemed simple. Perhaps the husband didn’t want his wife singled out by the gangs for retaliation while he was away. But most of the construction workers she knew weren’t known for shying away from trouble. They usually had a lot of strong friends who would back them up, too. Maybe Lillian was right. It sure sounded like something unusual was going on.

  “If you’d like to file a complaint—”

  “I already told you. I can’t do that.”

  “Can you tell me who some of the gang members are?”

  She shook her head. “They mostly hang around causing trouble at night, and I make it a point not to be outside then. I never get close enough for a good look.”

  Frustration tore at Ella. This was the kind of no-win situation where civilians cried out for police protection, while at the same time insisting that they didn’t want to get involved if they were called in as a witness or asked to testify. She’d seen plenty of this attitude on the outside, but not here, until now.

  “Can’t your officers just drive up and down the street at night, maybe in unmarked cars? You’ll catch them pretty soon, and then you’ll have all the answers you want.”

  “I’ll try to arrange for the patrols to be increased. But we don’t have the officers to set up a separate gang crimes unit. We only have about one officer on the force for every thousand people on the Rez right now. In the meantime, if you remember something that might help, give me a call,” she said, and handed the woman a card with her office number. “I can be reached at that number day or night.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She took the card from Ella and placed it beneath the phone on the side table. “Hey, what happened at the Aspass woman’s house? I asked Mrs. Mahlie next door, and she told me that I’m too nosy for my own good. Can you believe that?”

  “What do you think happened?” Ella countered.

  “Well, I know someone’s dead. I saw the body bag they wheeled out to that van. I figured she must have had an accident or had a heart attack or something.”

  “Were you at home earlier this morning, between eight and nine, and did you notice anyone hanging around who didn’t belong here?”

  Lillian shook her head. “No. That’s when I normally run all my errands, just after the stores open. I was at the Stop and Shop. I get most of my stuff there since the owner lets me pay for the groceries once a month, when Michael gets paid. Was she murdered?”

  Ella stood up. “We’re not exactly sure yet about the circumstances that lead to her death, but the house was burglarized. I would recommend that you and everyone else around here start locking your doors, vary your schedule, and keep an eye out for each other. Things are changing on the Rez. These are wise precautions now that crime is on the increase. I think you’d be wise not to confront the gang members on your own, either.”

  Ella walked outside and signalled to Justine. They met next to her Jeep and exchanged progress reports.

  “I haven’t even been able to get the people I know talking. I went to school with Vera Bidtah, but she clammed up the minute she saw me. She wouldn’t even let me step foot in her house. She warned me that people in this neighborhood looked after themselves. She said nobody here wanted our help. They’re scared, plain and simple, but I don’t get it. Surely the Many Devils don’t have that much of a hold on them?”

  “Things are getting worse here, whether the people are willing to admit it or not,” Ella answered. “The situation in this neighborhood has probably been going downhill for some time. My bet is that at first the residents were determined to ignore the noise and even the spray painting, figuring it would pass. But the gang got bolder, maybe breaking into houses, and now this has happened.

  “Most of the residents here don’t know that there’s been a murder yet, but they will soon enough, when those at work who’ve heard it on the radio bring the stories home. Then people will really be afraid. But I’ll bet they won’t come to us even then. Not because they think they can handle it, but because they know they can’t. If they point fingers at gang members they know they can expect retaliation, and we can’t be around twenty-four hours a day to protect them.”

  “Murder still doesn’t fit in with the youth gangs in our area,” Justine said. “When someone gets killed, it’s usually when a kid from a rival gang has reacted to an earlier confrontation. Even assuming the victim caught the gang kids in her house, it’s more likely that they would have just run away. She must have put up a fight and made them very angry,” Justine added. “Backing a burglar into a corner can turn him into a killer.”

  Ella’s eagle-sharp gaze took in the area. “And that’s what we’re looking for now, a killer. Let’s go. There’s not much we can do around here until somebody is willing to talk to us.”

  As they approached the Jeep, Ella cursed softly. The tag of the Many Devils had been hastily sprayed in bright red on the driver’s side door panel.

  “Big Ed’s going to love that,” Justine muttered as she came around to look.

  “They’ve been around here all along, watching us from hiding,” Ella said softly, looking around. “Just don’t react. I won’t give them that satisfaction, too. This round’s theirs, but the next one’s going to belong to us. Count on it.”

  FIVE

  Ella stopped by the station to change vehicles. After filling out all the necessary forms, in triplicate, she finally got the officer in charge of the motor pool to release an impounded Chevrolet Impala, metal-flake red. It was hers to use while the people at the motor pool tried to get the spray paint off her Jeep with solvents before it cured.

  Justine eyed the flashy low-rider classic with surprise. “Wow. Somehow I didn’t see this as your style.”

  “Are you kidding? What’s not to like? Probably a billion coats of cherry red paint, white leather interior with a welded chain chrome steering wheel, undersized tires, and about six inches clear
ance from the ground. The hydraulics don’t work though, somebody took all the batteries out of the trunk.”

  “A low rider’s dream, but still…” Justine shook her head, reluctant to put down her boss’ choice.

  Ella laughed. “Relax. I can’t think of anything I’d want less than a vehicle that’s only good for cruising back and forth down Main Street. If we had a main street, that is.”

  “Then why?”

  “I have a plan.” Ella gestured for her assistant to get in. “Come on.”

  Justine got in on the passenger’s side and strapped on the seat belt. The buckle was chrome, and the belt red to match the exterior. “You have that determined look. Are we going to go stir up some trouble and see what floats to the surface?”

  “That’s right, but first we’re going to stop by my house and change clothes. We have to wear something that doesn’t scream ‘cops driving something from the sixties row of the impound lot.’”

  “Okay. So we change clothes. Then what?”

  “We’re going to cruise the neighborhood around Lisa’s home this evening. Let’s see how long it takes for the gang to come out for a look. Hopefully, we’ll get lucky and they’ll give us a reason to haul them in on a charge or two. Then we can question them and see if we can squeeze anything out of one of them about the break-ins.”

  “Good idea, as long as we don’t run into my cousin. Thomas will recognize me for sure,” Justine reminded with a smile. “Either way, boys will be attracted to this car like bees to honey. How did impound get this jewel anyway? It doesn’t look like anything you’d see outside Albuquerque or Española.”

  “It belonged to Danny Pete, who lived in Albuquerque for a few years. He told his dad to get rid of it when he went into the Air Force, and Joe Pete did. He parked it off the side of the road and left it there, hoping it would be stolen, I guess. Impound picked it up, and Joe told them to keep it. Personally, I think Fred, the shop foreman, has his eye on it. He’s really into vintage cars. He said this sixty-four is a classic.”

  “Why anyone would want to drive a car like this anywhere is beyond me. It’s so low to the ground that any bump means you scrape the road. And this color.” Justine grimaced. “It looks like lipstick, extra glossy.”

  Ella listened to the engine’s deep rumble. “It’s going to take lots of gas, too, to cruise in this baby. Good thing it’ll be on the department’s tab.”

  * * *

  As Ella pulled up by her house, her thoughts shifted to her mother. She felt tired, and guilty. She’d barely thought of her mom all morning. Had Rose been home, laundry would have been hung on the line by now, despite the cold wind. While things dried, her mom would have worked in the herb garden, mulching and feeding the sandy soil in preparation for spring. Would her mother be able to manage all that on crutches? Emptiness blossomed and flowered inside Ella.

  “You really miss her, don’t you?” Justine asked softly.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s so quiet at home now. The house just echoes. Nothing feels right, you know?” Ella got out and crouched down as Dog Two came to greet her. “And you miss her, too, don’t you, boy?”

  Almost as if in response, Two rubbed his snout against Ella’s chest, then lowered his head, pressing against her. “It must be lonely for you around here now, boy. I’ll tell you what. Tonight, you can sleep inside with me.”

  The dog’s tail wagged furiously, and he led the way for them back to the house.

  “Sometimes, I think he really understands everything we say.” Ella let Two in the house, then invited him to go with her down the hall to her room.

  “We have to try and look like we’re around sixteen or seventeen,” Ella said, standing by her closet. She glanced back at Justine. “A snap for you. All you have to do is put your hair up with a lot of spray, and wear a ton of makeup. But it’s going to take a miracle for me.” Ella pulled out two pairs of jeans, then shook her head at the rest. “Nothing else here looks young enough.” She tossed one of the pairs to Justine. “You can roll up the cuffs on my jeans so you won’t trip over them, short-stuff.”

  “No problem,” Justine said with a smile. “Too bad you don’t have any dark pro team jackets. That would have fit the bill beautifully.”

  Ella glanced back at her. “My high school Chieftains jacket should fit you fine and it’ll do, I think. But I’ll still need something for me.

  Justine stood beside her, studying the clothes in Ella’s closet. “How about that Levi jacket? That’ll work,” Justine said.

  Outfits selected, Ella agreed to a much-needed nap, while Justine headed back to the station, promising to come back in time to get ready for this evening’s scheme.

  When she returned two hours later, Ella was feeling more like herself. She’d even managed to make a quick call to her mother, who was able to talk for a few minutes before she grew tired, and Ella had to say good-bye.

  Two had slept the whole time on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Ella and Justine took a few moments to scratch the mutt’s belly and compliment him on his guard dog qualities. It was obvious he’d missed human company lately.

  It didn’t take long before Justine and Ella had fixed up their hair and makeup, and were wearing combinations that suited the roles they were playing. Neither woman could recognize themselves, however. Ella took a long look at herself in the mirror. She looked like a woman headed for a nostalgic class reunion—or a Halloween party.

  Justine exhaled softly as she studied Ella. “It’s not going to work. Even with your hair sprayed and teased, you look like a cop playing a hooker, not a teen.”

  I can’t be a sixteen year old again, no matter how hard I try. Certain things are impossible.” Ella considered the problem. “Here’s what we’ll do. You take the wheel. It’ll be dark soon and that’ll help us. I’ll wear my brother’s old baseball cap and low ride in the shadows while you go high profile.” Ella opened her mother’s china hutch, which was filled mainly with photos and memorabilia from her children’s youth, and took out Clifford’s Cleveland Indians ball cap.

  “The car’s going to be the big attraction,” Justine answered. “That’ll draw them in. I’m sure of it.”

  Ella gave Two a pat on the head and let him back out of the house, knowing he preferred to stay outside when no one was home. She refilled his outside water dish, and put a cup of kibbles in his bowl.

  On the way to the car, Ella tossed the keys to Justine, and headed to the passenger’s side. Putting the cap on backwards according to current fashion, she glanced over at her assistant. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

  They drove north on Highway 666 toward Shiprock as the last vestiges of light faded below Beautiful Mountain. Before long, they reached the dimly lit neighborhood a mile or so from the Highway 64 junction on Shiprock’s southwest side. There were no street lamps, but porch lights were on, a last ditch defense against the darkness and the dangers it concealed.

  They cruised back and forth on the few streets that were there, the blaring car radio tuned to an out-of-state radio station featuring rap music. Rap music was Ella’s second most favorite music, everything else tied for first. Still, they had an image to project.

  Staring at the houses, Ella wondered how people could live like frightened rabbits, how they could allow fear to be used against them without fighting back. Wanting to understand, she tried to argue it through logically in her mind. Accepting the role of victim meant a surrender of responsibility that led to a comfortable state of self-pity. There was a peculiar sense of balance in that, insuring both wolves and sheep a place of their own in the overall scheme of things. Yet, even seeing that logic did not help her truly understand a mindset so unlike her own.

  “I think we may have picked up a tail,” Justine said. “I’m going to head back out onto the highway, and then turn west on Sixty-four. We’ll have more room to maneuver if they give us any trouble.”

  Ella looked cautiously into the rear-view mirror, making sure her face was only
out of the shadows for a moment or two. “Make it easy for them to follow us and let’s see if we can draw them in. I’d like to ID at least two of them, more if possible.”

  After they passed the brightly lit campus of Shiprock High School, there were fewer buildings to be seen on either side of the road, until eventually there was little more than a few barren alfalfa fields among the sagebrush and gently rising hills. Off in the distance to their right, the bosque of the San Juan River appeared as a dark ribbon.

  “They’re going to pass to check us out,” Justine said a moment later as headlights flooded the rear of the car.

  “More likely they’re checking out the car. You’re tensing up,” Ella warned. “Don’t do that. Remember you’re a girl out for some fun.”

  “Here they come.” The primer-paint-laden Chevy sedan pulled up alongside, matching their speed as the youngsters checked out Justine and the car.

  “I hope you realize that we’re supposed to be very impressed. See how they’re not making any effort to go all the way around? This is meant to show us how much guts they have.” Justine waved and smiled at the boys.

  “And how much guts they’ll spill all over the road if there’s— Look out!” Ella saw the semi coming over the hill, heading straight toward the boys in the car.

  Justine made a tiny sound that could have been anything from a cry to a muttered curse, then suddenly slammed on the brakes, allowing the boys’ slowly accelerating car to cut in front of them. The smell of burning rubber filled the car.

  Catching her breath, Ella forced her fingers off the dashboard. The squeal of brakes still echoed in her ears. “Those idiots!”

  Justine cursed loudly. “I say we arrest them, right now. I got the tag number.”

  “Uh-uh. We’re supposed to be impressed by that stuff, so just laugh, be awestruck, and wave at them,” Ella reminded. “They’ve slowed down to a crawl again. Now you pass them, but at normal speed. The road ahead is straight and there’s nothing coming. I’ll scrunch down into low rider position to make sure they don’t get a good look at my face, but I want to ID those guys.”