by Aimée
Shepherd sat down at a small wooden table, his wary eyes darting back and forth from Ella to Blalock.
Ella sat across the table from him in the only other chair, a tape recorder in front of her. “You’re in a lot more trouble now than when you were first booked, Mr. Shepherd,” she said. “You’re now involved in a conspiracy to murder a police officer.”
Shepherd groaned, saying nothing, but his attorney’s eyes grew wider. “This is news to us. I want to hear all the charges against my client, pronto. When did all this come about?”
“Late-breaking news, counselor,” Ella said. “The murder attempt took place less than an hour ago.”
Shepherd leaned forward. “Wait a second. I’m no killer. A convicted thief, yes, but not a murderer, and I certainly would never be stupid enough to go after you.”
Ella smiled slowly. “I didn’t say there had been an attack against me.”
“But I thought…”
“No, you didn’t, you know. That’s why you’re in this new mess.” Ella watched the prisoner squirm.
The young attorney glared at her. “Do you intend to offer my client some kind of a deal, or are we just playing games?”
“If he’s willing to turn state’s evidence, we can arrange to drop some of the dozen or so charges against him, I’m sure,” Blalock said.
“You’re in this up to your neck, Shepherd,” Ella said “The best thing that can happen, unless you cooperate, is that you’ll get twenty years in prison.”
“The worst is that the judge will consider your latest trick as a third offense and that’ll mean life without parole,” Blalock added.
Shepherd turned one shade paler, and looked at his attorney.
The young attorney gave him a tired shrug. “That’s only if they get a conviction. We haven’t seen what they’ve got on you yet, so I’m not willing to assume they can.”
“How can you blame me for what happened when I’ve been in jail all this time?” Shepherd said, looking at Ella and Blalock.
“Knowing about it makes you a co-conspirator, or at least an accessory. Where you were when you obtained that information isn’t relevant.”
Shepherd cursed. “I had nothing to do with trying to kill you,” he repeated stubbornly.
“But by your own words, you’ve established before witnesses that you knew what was being planned,” Ella said.
The young attorney moved closer to his client. His voice was whisper-soft, but Ella managed to hear enough of what he said to get the gist of it. “Their evidence against you, as far as it pertains to the bank robbery, is solid. Your chances of beating those charges are slim. If they can pin conspiracy to murder on you, you probably won’t get the third strike, but you’ll go away for a very long time. If they offer you a deal you can live with, take it.”
“If I talk to you straight, you’ll get me out of jail?” Shepherd asked Blalock.
“I can ask the DA to offer you a deal for a reduced sentence, and I can guarantee you won’t be kept anywhere near the Bakers,” Blalock said.
Ella saw Shepherd hesitate. “I’d take that if I were you. I don’t think you’ve got much of a choice, really. Once we prove that you’re involved in this conspiracy, your future prospects are in the hands of a local jury. People in Farmington are very unforgiving toward criminals nowadays, I hear.”
Shepherd shifted in his chair, his gaze darting around like that of a trapped animal looking for an escape. “I knew about it, but I wasn’t part of the plan, okay? Barb and Joey do whatever they please. They don’t consult me.”
“The Bakers hired the assassin?” Blalock pressed.
“Oh, hell no. They don’t have enough money to buy popcorn at the movies, let alone enough to contract a hit.”
“Then who?” Ella prodded, fighting the urge to shake the weaselly Shepherd until his teeth rattled.
“Barbara hated you from the moment you screwed up her plan to spring Joey. She contacted Martin Miller, the lawyer who is connected to The Brotherhood. Joey said they made a deal with him to set you up in exchange for him representing them. The Brotherhood wants you dead, and they were more than happy to use Barb’s help.”
“Was the robbery a way to raise funds to hire the hit man?” Ella asked.
Shepherd shrugged. “I don’t know about that. All I knew for sure about the robbery was that I’d get my cut after expenses. What Barb and Joey chose to do with theirs was their business as far as I was concerned.”
“You’ll have to testify to all this in court,” Blalock said.
“I’ll do it, providing you get me moved someplace back east where I know they won’t be able to get to me.”
“Deal,” Blalock said. “Assuming the DA goes along with it. And I think she will.”
“The Bakers will deny everything, though,” Shepherd said, “and so will Miller, their attorney. It’ll be my word against all of theirs, and Miller will argue that I’m just trying to save myself. Miller has no record, and he’s one smooth cookie. By the time he’s finished, wanna guess whose side the jury will be on?”
Ella didn’t answer him. It wasn’t necessary. They all knew Shepherd was right.
FOURTEEN
Once Shepherd was taken back to his cell, Blalock glanced at Ella. “He’s right, you know. His testimony won’t get us a conspiracy charge unless the hit woman corroborates his story, and that’s pretty unlikely. So, now what? Any ideas?”
“I’d like to get that legal cockroach, Miller,” Ella said thoughtfully. “I don’t see any reason to talk to the Bakers now, but can we tap his phone?”
“Not without a court order, you know that, and that’s something we’ll never get, not without a lot more evidence than we’ve got now. Miller has an established reputation as a trial attorney. He’ll claim we’re trying to harass him, file a lawsuit, and make it very public. That is, unless we can get the assassin to talk to us.”
“Shall we question her?”
He considered it. “I’m not sure I want you along on this. You were her intended victim, and since it happened off the Rez it’s out of your jurisdiction. Also, because of the brutality charges that have been leveled against you, you have a personal stake in the results of her testimony. Your presence during questioning may jeopardize the case when it comes to court.”
Ella nodded slowly. “I have a feeling my attorney would probably agree with you.”
“I’m a damned good agent. Trust me to do this, okay?”
She nodded. “I do, but I still would have liked to be in on it.”
* * *
After a few more words with the FBI agent, Ella drove back to the reservation. She stopped at Kevin Tolino’s office, which fortunately was in Shiprock instead of Window Rock, the seat of tribal government. She wanted to fill him in on this latest development. Maybe with his connections, he’d be able to question the assassin alone, or at least sit in on the questioning.
She found Kevin behind a stack of manila folders that almost blocked him from view. In that respect, his office was a lot like hers. The paperless office of the computer age had been a hoax.
Tolino waved her to a chair. “What brings you by here?”
Ella filled him in quickly. “I thought you’d want to know about this as soon as possible.”
“Thanks. I’ll get over to Farmington and persuade Blalock to let me in to question this woman.”
“Is there some way you can get me in on it, too?”
Kevin shook his head. “I can understand you wanting to be there, but Blalock’s right. It’s a bad idea. You’re too close to the case after what happened. If you really want to do something useful, why don’t you follow up on those booking photos on Gladys Bekis? Check again with everyone who was at the jail when she came in and may have seen her. Maybe there were onlookers there besides police personnel. See what you can get me.”
Just then, the phone rang, and Kevin picked up the receiver. Ella was about to leave, but Kevin gestured silently for her to stay. Though
she couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, Ella caught enough to surmise the call was about Leo Bekis, the drunk responsible for her mother’s accident. Tolino’s expression was grim when he hung up the phone
“Bad news?” Ella asked.
Kevin nodded. “You might say that. At least some things never change in the justice system.”
“Let me guess. That cockroach is out of jail.” Ella’s voice was strained.
“At least his license was pulled this time. Until there’s a hearing, he’s been forbidden to drink or drive.” Kevin shrugged. “His friends could only do so much when faced with the bad publicity you gave him.”
“I wish I could have done more than that. What are the odds he’ll follow the court orders?” Ella knew the only way to insure his compliance was to have someone follow Bekis around, and that would never happen. They just didn’t have the manpower. “Alcoholics drink no matter what they promise.”
“Let’s hope his family will look out for him. Their name has been dragged through the mud, too. Just see that you stay away from him, Ella.” Kevin warned.
“I’m not making any promises,” she said, stepping out the door.
As Ella headed back to the station, she thought about everything that had happened recently—her mother, Lisa Aspass’ murder, the gang violence. The world she knew was being torn apart by hate and violence. Her efforts to prevent that seemed no more effective than stomping out a forest fire with her boot.
As she pulled into the station, she saw Neskahi running out toward his vehicle. She called out to him.
He hurried over to her car. “We got word that the leader of the Many Devils, Franklin Ahe, wants to meet with you across from the storage tanks south of town in an hour. I’m heading out now to check out the place, to make sure nobody else is trying to set you up. I know the area, it’s near where old man Nez runs his fruit stand in the fall.”
“What about someone from the North Siders? Any word from them?”
“I’ve been told their leader won’t meet with you or go anywhere where the Many Devils might be. He thinks it’s a trick.”
“Then let it be. I’ll meet with Ahe.”
“Big Ed insists you wear a vest and have backup close by. I agree that a little caution wouldn’t hurt.”
Ella nodded, then went inside to her office. She generally hated to wear vests, but Big Ed was right. Besides, this was why she’d purchased her own, a lightweight, more comfortable model than police issue, that was still highly effective. It had cost her a month’s salary and it was worth every penny. Ella fastened it on beneath her loose-fitting pullover sweater. As she walked back toward the door, Justine suddenly appeared.
“I’m riding backup with you,” Justine said.
Ella shook her head. “You’ll have to keep your distance. I’m going in alone so I won’t spook anyone. That was the deal.”
“At least meet him out in the open; that way Neskahi and I can watch,” Justine said. “It’s the only other logical choice.”
Ella considered it. If Big Ed found out that she’d been without protection after he called for backup, he’d be furious, and the last thing she needed right now was to shake her boss’s confidence in her judgment. “Okay, but make sure you don’t get close enough to be seen,” Ella warned. “These guys are likely to start blasting at the drop of a hat.”
“Call the sergeant back then, and I’ll ride along with him,” Justine said. “The fewer cars, the better.”
Ella watched the clock, waiting for the proper time. Then she drove south of Shiprock several miles to where the storage tanks were standing, making no attempt to hide her approach. The oil facility was west of the highway, and there was a small shack across the road on the east side where old man Nez sold fruit and vegetables after the harvest. It was impossible to sneak up on that location unless one approached from directly west of the oil tanks, using them as a screen. This would have to be done on foot, though, and whoever approached would still have to cross the road at close range to reach the shack.
Ella used the cellular to communicate with Neskahi and Justine, just in case the kids had managed to get ahold of a police-band radio. Instructing them again to stay at their selected vantage point on a low hill farther north, she drove off the road, close enough to the shack for anyone inside to see her.
She stepped out and called out to Ahe. “You know who I am. I want to talk to you.”
Ahe shouted at her from inside the cabin. “I’m not going out there where any sniper can blow me away.”
“If I’d wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be talking now. I would have sent a SWAT team with tear gas and automatic weapons.”
Silence was her only answer. Finally, Ahe replied. “Go around behind the shack, out of sight from the road. We’ll both have cover there from drive-bys.”
Ella understood what he meant. Gang strategy was usually limited to driving up and blasting away indiscriminately until the targets went down or the shooters ran out of bullets. At least this way, he was protecting himself somewhat. She walked around the shed cautiously, knowing that Neskahi and Justine were probably not thrilled about this new development. She wasn’t even sure if they could still see her through their binoculars.
She was standing about ten feet behind the light wood frame structure when one of the wide boards swung up and Ahe appeared. As he came through the opening, she heard metal scrape against the wood. This told her he probably had a pistol stuck in his belt at the small of his back. Her own weapon was in its pancake holster at her belt, and Ahe could see it clearly. She wasn’t about to go into a dangerous situation unarmed. She didn’t watch enough television detectives to be that stupid.
Ahe was a sturdy-looking eighteen-year-old, almost her height, and he outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. He had a trace of hair where a beard would be on an non-Navajo, but probably wouldn’t grow much more due to his heredity. His face bore scars of recent fights, and his black eyes seemed expressionless. It was that cold lack of humanity that told her he was destined for prison, or an early grave. He was undoubtedly the one in the back seat the night she and Justine went ‘low riding.’
“Okay, I’m here. What do you want?” he snapped.
“I want to talk to you about the murder of another one of your homies last night. We don’t know his name, so we haven’t been able to tell his family about his death. Do you know who it might be?”
“I think it could be a new guy, we call him Shopper, because he likes to go ‘shopping’ in houses when the people aren’t home. He comes from over by Holbrook somewhere, I think. I don’t know his name.”
“Did he have a burn on his chest?”
“You tell me. I just look at girls’ chests.” He leered at Ella.
She took comfort in the knowledge that she’d been trained to gouge an attacker’s eyes in hand-to-hand combat, and continued with her questions now that he was talking.
“This Shopper, if that’s who it was, had some evidence on him that leads us to believe that neither his killing nor the death of George Nahlee have anything to do with the Siders. There is someone else, not a gang, responsible for taking out the two Many Devils.”
“We’re at war with the North Siders now, and nobody’s gonna stop fighting till it’s settled. If anyone gets in our way, we’ll take them on, too. We’re not afraid to die, and threats don’t work on us.”
Ahe spoke like a terrorist, willing to sacrifice as many lives as necessary in order to gain attention and respect. That knowledge frightened her. “You’re in the big leagues on this one, and talking tough won’t impress anyone. When you started burglarizing homes, you made the mistake of picking the wrong victim, and somebody is punishing the Many Devils for that. You’ve probably already heard how brutal your adversaries are. They don’t fight, they just catch you alone and take you out. You don’t have a chance against them unless you pay some attention to what I’m telling you.”
Ahe laughed. “You’re jerking my chain, right?
The Many Devils taking advice from the cops?”
“Do you have any idea what you’re up against?”
“It’s that skinwalker crap one of our guys found, right?” Ahe shook his head. “That scary stuff is for old people. I heard they just smoke loco weed, mess with dead people, and run around naked.”
Ella’s eyebrows rose. This boy was so out of touch with Navajo culture she was surprised he even knew the word ‘skinwalker.’ Ahe didn’t have a clue about the forces he was up against. Maybe she could relate to him on another level. “Crazy people are often the most dangerous.”
“We’ll deal with grandma and grandpa if they ever get in our way. Right now, the North Siders are looking for guns, and the Fierce Ones are getting in everybody’s face, making threats and all. They want us to be schoolboys or something. If they keep it up, I can guarantee that some of the Fierce Ones will go down, too. In the end, the Many Devils will be standing tall. You better learn to respect us.”
As he walked around to the front of the shed, Ella stood there, shaking her head as she noted the .32 pistol stuck in his waistband. There wasn’t going to be any easy way to stop this. The gangs had their own agenda. More kids would die in the power struggle, and for what? The right to paint their names and slogans on somebody else’s walls? Worst of all, after the smoke cleared, not even the survivors would be able to escape the payment their chosen lifestyle would exact. Kids joined a gang for life—which often turned out to be miserably short.
Ella got back into her car and drove out to meet with Neskahi and Justine. Joining them, she played back Ahe’s conversation on the small, voice-activated tape recorder she’d carried in her pocket. “As you heard, it was a complete waste of time, except for this Shopper gang name. Those kids want to square off, and Ahe is enjoying the control and power. The more deaths there are, the more he’ll use the kids’ anger and thirst for revenge to continue the fight.”
