Tracking Bear

by Thurlo, David

  “Do you know if Jason made any enemies because of his stand against NEED?” Justine asked.

  Belinda made a feeble attempt to wipe away her tears, cleared her voice, then answered. “There were a lot of people who resented his position—some were his fellow officers. There’s one cop who comes to mind right away. He supports NEED and didn’t care much for Jason. His name is Joseph Neskahi. He’s a sergeant, I think.”

  Ella felt a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. She’d known Joseph for many years, and he’d served in her crime scene unit several times when called upon. He was a decent, hardworking cop, not capable of killing one of his own.

  “Jason just didn’t have the kind of enemy that would do something like this,” Belinda said. “If he had, I would have known about it.” She paused for a long time. “But his father might have. He’s got a lot of secrets.”

  “Explain,” Ella said, leaning forward in her seat.

  “Professor Franklin never talked about his past—with me or with his son. It was really odd, you know? I mean, I can understand why he never just chatted with me. He didn’t like me much after he found out that I was pro-NEED. I think he felt that as a physicist, I should have sided with him because I could understand better than most the dangers associated with a project like this. But he was just as close-mouthed with his own son. I know that bothered Jason.”

  “Do you know if Jason ever talked about his work with his mother?” Ella still hadn’t heard anything about the woman from the military in Europe, where her husband was stationed, though Big Ed had made a second phone call to the base in Germany in an attempt to track her down and notify her of Jason’s death.

  “He didn’t write much, and only called on her birthday, according to him. She’s been away for two years, and I’ve never met or spoken to the woman myself. I have no idea when he might have written her last, only she can answer those kind of questions.”

  A half hour later, after their interview was concluded, Ella and Justine headed out to their vehicle.

  “That’s some lead we just turned up,” Justine said as they drove away. “I’ll check it out.” Justine sat back, holding on to the seat as they hit a big bump in the trail and the Jeep bounced.

  “Don’t forget the ballistics on the bullet that killed Jason. Also, get your tires replaced. Tell them I gave you a direct order,” Ella added. “Don’t take no for an answer.”

  Sometime later they walked back inside the station. Big Ed Atcitty intercepted them in the hall before they could reach Ella’s office. “I’ve just posted the time and place for Officer Franklin’s memorial service. It’ll take place this evening after the body has been laid to rest. He’ll be buried at a Farmington cemetery this afternoon. Dr. Roanhorse-Lavery has released the body. Tonight there’ll be a short ceremony at Dr. Franklin’s home.”

  “Thanks for the information, Chief. I’ll be there, but a lot of our officers might not attend. I hope Dr. Franklin will understand that although Navajo cops have to deal with the dead on occasion, a lot of them still hold to our traditions. A memorial service to some is like throwing a party for the chindi.”

  “Even so, I expect we’ll have a decent turnout. Dr. Franklin isn’t a member of any denomination, though I gather he considers himself a Christian, so he didn’t want the service held in any particular church. He wanted to have a memorial service so some of us would have the opportunity to say a few words.”

  As a sergeant came out of the squad room to talk to the chief, Ella and Justine continued down the hall. It was still very quiet. Ella couldn’t help but notice how the tragic death had touched everyone here. When one cop died, all the brotherhood mourned.

  “I’m going to start doing a background search on Professor Franklin,” Ella said. “I’d like you to check with area law enforcement off the Rez. See if any trouble has been brewing that we don’t know about.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Ella went to her office. Before she did anything else she needed to track down Joseph Neskahi and have him come in to talk to her. After asking Dispatch to relay a message to him, Ella began doing the background check on Kee Franklin.

  An hour later, she heard someone knock on her door. Ella looked up and saw John Ray, the desk sergeant, with two Anglos. One was a tall blond woman wearing a visitor’s badge. The other was Delbert Shives, a chemist at the power plant who also served as the police contact person there.

  After the trouble at the power plant last year, the Tribal Council had asked plant officials to work up a plan to educate local law enforcement concerning the facility in order to help deal with any future problems more effectively. Shives had set up a visitation program and several officers from their department had already made the tour. Her SI team had been among the first, accompanied by the two local FBI agents, whom Ella knew. Ella guessed that the woman with him was connected to the program somehow, but she looked more like a security guard than office staff or a technical worker.

  “Investigator Clah, how are you? I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of the police officer the other day. The whole community grieves with you.” His words came across as rehearsed.

  Shives, a slender, slightly balding man in his midfifties, was an outgoing, talkative man, a personality trait she had come to believe was an act required by his job as police liaison. Somehow, his attempts at sincerity always seemed forced.

  Ella nodded, and noticed John Ray slipping away, rolling his eyes. The blonde with Shives noticed and smiled, but didn’t say anything.

  “I’d like you to meet Margaret Bruno. Ms. Bruno is a highly qualified security consultant who has been hired by your Tribal Council to conduct tactical training sessions for combined operations involving power plant security officers and your department.”

  “What sessions? I don’t recall hearing about this project, Ms. Bruno. I’m sorry.”

  Margaret Bruno smiled and offered her hand. Ella took it, still wary.

  “The Tribal Council authorized these workshops about a month ago,” she said. “The purpose of the training is to raise efficiency levels during situations such as the power plant takeover the area experienced several months ago. Special ops training is needed here more than ever now, especially since you’re all so short-staffed at the moment.”

  The tall blond woman, older than Ella by at least ten years and outweighing her by around twenty pounds, pointed to a green folder halfway down the stack in Ella’s “In file” basket. “It’s all in that folder. You probably haven’t had time to get to it yet, something I understand perfectly well, believe me. It’s just one example of what happens in even the best departments when you’re understaffed and overworked.”

  “What we need are more cops, Ms. Bruno, and better equipment,” Ella said, “not training sessions.” She just couldn’t imagine why the council was spending money on things like this. She gave Bruno a quick assessment. The blonde was attractive in a hard way, and some Navajo men had a thing for blondes. Maybe she had a friend in the council. Or two.

  “No offense, but I don’t know anything about your workshops,” Ella added, “and I really don’t have the time now.”

  “I’ve been hired to help your team develop practical strategies and skills that you could use whenever there are potential disturbances at factories, mines, and so on,” she said, pressing on. “I served on a SWAT team in a Texas police department, and I’ve had training at the FBI Academy.”

  “So have I,” Ella said coldly. “I was an agent with the Bureau before coming here.”

  “Yes, I was given that information by the tribe. But it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  Ella resisted the impulse to pitch her out the window. Bruno was tough and fit-looking, and it would have been a struggle, but at the moment, Ella would have enjoyed giving it a shot anyway.

  “When an officer is killed in the line of duty—it’s hard for the entire department, and the staff has trouble concentrating on anything else,” Bruno said. “Mr. Shives and I bo
th agree that due to special circumstances, postponing our first session is appropriate, but I’d like to set up a firm date with you as soon as possible.”

  “Sure,” Ella answered. In the meantime, she’d make an effort to get future sessions canceled. Funds were short—they didn’t need to be squandered when the first priority was putting more officers in the field and maintaining equipment. Hopefully the contract the tribe had with Bruno allowed for cancellations, and she’d only get paid for work already done.

  “I’ll be in touch, Investigator Clah,” Delbert Shives said, “and send you an e-mail reminder in a few days. Meanwhile, my, our thoughts are with the department and the family of the officer.” Shives knew enough not to shake hands, so he simply nodded. Bruno smiled and turned, walking away quickly.

  When the two were out of sight, Ella forced herself to forget about the misspending of scarce tribal resources. If she dwelled on that, it would just make her crazy.

  Bringing her thoughts back to the case, she concentrated on Kee Franklin. Using Professor Franklin’s Social Security number, she accessed his credit report. She’d just started looking it over for unusual activity when Sergeant Neskahi knocked on her open door.

  Joseph, a former wrestler in high school, had kept in shape over the years, thanks to regular workouts. He was built like a safe—all square and hard, something that seemed even more emphasized by his buzz-cut hairstyle. But there was a look about him these days that hadn’t been there in years past. It was the harshness officers acquired with experience, which often came to the surface during times of stress.

  “Sit down, Joseph,” she said, waving him to a chair.

  “What’s going on, Ella? Are you going to transfer me back to the SI Unit?”

  “Not right now. With the shortage of patrol cops, the department needs you out there more.”

  Neskahi nodded. “Things are getting pretty bad, aren’t they? Half of us don’t even have vehicles we can depend upon. Do you think it’ll change now that an officer got killed because his radio was cutting out?”

  She’d hoped that news about Franklin’s faulty radio wouldn’t leak out so fast, though she should have known it would spread like wildfire. A flash of anger swept through her again as she thought of Bruno’s workshop and how the little funding they had was being misspent. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the sergeant. “I don’t understand anything the council does these days. Their priorities are backwards.”

  He nodded somberly. “As always. So tell me, what I can do for you?”

  “I need to know about Officer Franklin. Someone said that you two knew each other well.”

  “We knew each other professionally, but we weren’t friends. We were on opposite sides of the NEED issue, and often debated against each other at Chapter House meetings,” he said, referring to the regular community meetings on the Rez.

  “You live in the same area then?”

  He nodded. “But philosophically we share very little common ground. I’m a pragmatist—always have been,” he said. “Refusing to go forward because of fear is a bad strategy.”

  “At those chapter meetings…how evenly divided on the NEED issue are the people who attend?”

  “I get the feeling that it’s almost fifty-fifty. The older ones who’ve seen what uranium has already done to the People are usually very close-minded about it. But those like me, who see we’re running out of choices, consider it a viable option, if it’s done safely.”

  “As far as you know, did Officer Franklin make any real enemies at these meetings?”

  “Jason did make a lot of people angry when he spoke against NEED, particularly me. But I didn’t have anything to do with his death, and I very much doubt he was killed because of his views on the NEED proposal. He fought hard to present his position clearly and unemotionally, and we all knew his first concern was for the tribe. Everyone respected him. The only ones I know the Dineh there couldn’t stand were the outsiders, mostly big-company Anglos, who came with their optimistic speeches and empty promises. Experience tells most of us that the energy industry promoters can’t be trusted. They don’t have to live with their mistakes—we do.”

  “Yeah, good point.”

  “I’ve only seen one Anglo at the meetings who seems to know what he’s talking about and tries to present the issue squarely, addressing both pros and cons. You know him. Delbert Shives, the guy who was just here with the leggy blonde. The Tribal Council has been sending him to Chapter meetings to give everyone an overview of how the new nuclear power plant would work. The man’s quick and to the point, then leaves. He doesn’t try to take part in any discussions.”

  “I guess I’ll hear his speech sooner or later,” Ella said.

  “I’d say you can pretty much count on it if you go to Chapter House meetings. Is there anything else?”

  “No, just keep your eyes and ears open. If Officer Franklin made enemies because of his position concerning NEED, or for any other reason, I want to know about it.”

  “You’ve got it.” Neskahi stood up. “In my opinion, a good cop got killed because he interrupted a crime. I’ll try to find out if any of the known perps in my area have it in for cops.”

  She watched him leave, lost in thought. Something told her that troubles on the Rez were only beginning.

  Five

  The next morning, Ella joined the members of her Special Investigations Unit in Chief Big Ed Atcitty’s office. Justine had spent most of the previous day following up on every crime report filed within the past six months in officer Franklin’s patrol area, but had turned up nothing useful.

  Justine spoke first, reporting what they’d received from the ME. “Dr. Roanhorse-Lavery recovered a .380 hollow point from the victim. It’s disfigured, but obviously didn’t come from the victim’s own nine-millimeter, nor his backup weapon, which was a thirty-eight. Neither had been fired.”

  “How about rifling and ballistics characteristics?” Ella asked. “Is the slug in good enough shape to allow us to get a match if we recover a weapon?”

  “I’ve got enough on the lands and grooves to say the weapon was probably a Colt Mustang, which has a real short barrel. It’s a pocket gun, basically. I should have more later.”

  “Sounds like a backup weapon,” Ella commented.

  “That Colt is a semiauto, so unless the shell casing has been overlooked, the killer picked it up and took it with him. Pretty cool customer,” Tache added.

  “So until we come across the murder weapon, we’re nowhere,” Big Ed said, rocking back and forth in his office chair slowly.

  “I’m now planning to go back three years and check any felony arrests Officer Franklin made, paying close attention to any cases where his testimony helped send someone to prison,” Justine said. “But, for now, all we really have as physical evidence is that bullet, a footprint, and the hairs.”

  “Anyone else have something to add?”

  Ella glanced at Ralph Tache, Justine, then back at Big Ed. “I think someone tailed me yesterday when I went to visit Professor Franklin to give him the news about his son.”

  “You think?” Big Ed asked. He stopped rocking and leaned forward.

  “Yeah. I didn’t see any vehicle I could check on, but I had a strong feeling that I was being followed. I realize that’s vague, but I’m sure of it. Someone was there.”

  “Any theories?” Big Ed asked.

  “Maybe someone wants to see what direction our investigation is taking. Or it might be an old enemy of mine working on his own agenda. There’s no shortage of those.”

  Justine gave her a worried look. “Sometimes your enemies can devise complex conspiracies,” she said, looking down at her trigger finger, which was cut off at the knuckle, and remembering. “Watch yourself.”

  “I want the Special Investigations team to get this cop killer ASAP. This crime goes to the top of all our lists. Am I making myself clear?” Chief Atcitty said.

  “Understood,” Ella answered. “I’ll be doing a
complete background check on Officer Franklin’s family next. Maybe a motive will turn up that’ll lead the case away from the apparent burglar overreaction—which I really have a hard time buying.”

  As Ella returned to her office, she saw Kevin Tolino, Dawn’s father, waiting for her. Kevin was dressed in a dark blue silk sports jacket and turquoise-and-silver bolo tie. There was no denying that Kevin was one of the best-looking Navajo men she’d ever met. His natural charisma coupled with that tall, lanky, broad-shouldered build was a powerful combination. “This is a surprise,” she said. “What brings you here today?”

  “I needed to talk to you, Ella.”

  Ella sat down, studying Kevin’s expression. He sat, too, but looked apprehensive and ill at ease. That was unusual for him. As an attorney and member of the Tribal Council, he was used to guarding his emotions and demeanor.

  “What’s going on, Kevin?”

  “George Branch, the A.M. radio hit man, is what’s going on. You know how, in the past, he’s singled you and the police department out for his diatribes? Well, his last four programs have been no-holds-barred attacks on me.”

  “Kevin, you know that I can’t do anything about that. Freedom of speech is protected, even for pompous, self-important media personalities, as long as they don’t slander anyone outright. And now that you’re a member of the Tribal Council, you get to climb up and serve as a shooting gallery target with the rest of the politicians and public servants.”

  “I’m an attorney, Ella. I know precisely what you can and can’t do, but he’s stepped over the line. Get a tape recorder, because I want to file a complaint. Once someone types it up, I’ll sign it and make it official.”

  Ella placed a small tape recorder on the desk before her and waited.

  “Thanks to those broadcasts by George Branch, I’m being harassed, perhaps stalked is a better description, and I’ve just about had it.”

  “Who’s harassing you, and what have they done?”

  “It all began four days ago when Branch came after me on his program. He referred to me as a Navajo yo-yo.”