Tracking Bear

by Thurlo, David

  As she looked around to see who was attending, Ella realized that virtually every folding chair was occupied. The meeting first took care of old business, then a committeeman from their district stood up and took the microphone.

  Joe Arviso, a Navajo man in his early fifties, was wearing what was probably his best silver-and-turquoise bolo tie, and it gleamed in the light. “Thank you all for coming. I want to start by saying that no matter how much times have changed, we are all one—as a tribe and as children of the Earth Mother. From that premise we’ll go on and talk of how our nation can become self-sufficient. First, I’d like to introduce the noted Anglo scientist, Dr. Shives,” he said, mentioning him by name, figuring that this was one name the traditionalists would want to know. “He works as a chemist and consultant for the tribe’s coal power plant over by Hogback. He has also agreed to speak at some of our chapter meetings about the newly proposed power plant.”

  Delbert Shives was dressed up compared to the last time Ella had seen him at the station, when he had brought that hard-nosed Bruno woman. Today he was wearing his narrow, wire-rimmed glasses and a conservative gray suit that didn’t quite go with the turquoise bolo tie he’d chosen to wear. He held several pieces of paper, apparently notes, but knew his material, and rarely looked down.

  Shives gave them an overview of how the nuclear power plant would work, and how it was different from older, more conventionally designed nuclear plants, like one in Arizona. He kept it simple without dumbing it down, which would have been an insult. The presentation was smooth and flawless. He’d obviously given the talk many times before. She remembered Sergeant Neskahi mentioning it.

  When Shives was finished, he looked around the room. “Any questions or comments?”

  Rose stood up, and Ella cringed. “You’ve told us how this new design will work, and why it should be better than previous nuclear power plants. But now give us examples of what could go wrong with it. We need to understand both sides.”

  Shives looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Quite frankly, pebble bed technology is very safe, and even in the worst-case scenario, there would be no risk of a big radiation leak, explosion, or fire. It’s not possible to have a meltdown of the core, as happened in the USSR years ago. But the plant must still be run and managed by people who have experience in these matters. If that happens, the Navajo People will be safe. The tribe might even become economically self-sufficient within a decade, based upon the energy needs predicted for the Southwest and West. But it is absolutely crucial that the tribe hire properly trained people who can be trusted to do the job right.”

  He took two more questions about the possible financial issues, then Joe Arviso took the podium again. “For what it’s worth, I’m pro-NEED. We can’t live off the land anymore because there are too many of us here who need to share it. There’s just not enough water or good land for all of us to raise sheep or grow corn and alfalfa. We need to find a way to bring jobs in and to pay for our police, for sewers, roads, fire protection, for scholarships, and for all the things that allow us to survive as a people. I believe the nuclear power plant will do that for us.”

  Rose stood up, and Ella saw everyone’s gaze rest on her mother once again. Rose waited a moment before speaking, and that small pause ensured that everyone’s attention was on her. “When the coal mines were first opened here on our land, some of us thought we’d finally have enough money for all our needs. But the coal companies who leased our land gave us only a few cents for every dollar made. They were the ones who made all that money.”

  Rose took a breath and continued. “There were uranium companies, too. We were promised jobs at the mines in exchange for use of our land, but as it turned out, they couldn’t hire everyone who applied. Then, after they poisoned Mother Earth, they left us to cope with mess they’d made. What’s worse, the Dineh who lived around the mines discovered that their livestock and the ability to grow crops had been taken away from them because the land had become sick and the water poisoned.”

  She paused, exhaling softly. “I’m not saying that we don’t need money, but we have to go slowly and carefully. We all have to get a lot more answers before we agree to anything.”

  “I can’t justify what happened before, none of us can, but we’ve learned from the past,” Arviso said. “New technology has made us wiser. The mining will be done right this time. No one has to be hurt. But let me have Dr. Shives explain.”

  Shives took the podium again. “There’s a safer technology today that can provide most of the uranium needed for such a plant. Basically, you pump in oxygen and sodium bicarbonate in one location through a series of wells, these harmless materials combine with uranium salts deep below, and then you pump out the resulting mixture at a second location farther downslope. Uranium is removed from that mixture at a processing plant. Radioactive materials are prevented from escaping the mining area and ever getting to the surface. The aquifer remains safe as well since it’s unnecessary to tap into it. There’s a site already under study where very little damage will be required to extract the ore.”

  “But will we still need Anglo-run companies to be partners with us?” one man asked.

  “Probably,” Shives said. “It takes technicians and scientists with specialized training to carry out this form of extraction. Currently, the tribe doesn’t have qualified workers who can handle such an operation. But increased revenue applied to education may eventually turn that around.”

  “I agree,” Arviso said. “At the beginning there’ll be jobs that none of our people are qualified for, so we’ll need outside help. But someday, it’ll be run solely by the tribe.”

  Rose took the floor again. “Then one of the things we must make sure of is that we have these training programs in place for our people. Any outside reservation partners must be in the minority and phased out as the project matures. If this project is going to benefit the tribe, we must maintain control.”

  A young woman about Justine’s age stood up slowly. “I think we need someone like this woman to oversee those in government,” she said, looking at Rose. “She has the courage to stand up and tell it like it is, then offer a solution to the problem.”

  Joe Arviso nodded somberly.

  Ella tried not to cringe. As Rose took a seat, she looked at Ella calmly and smiled.

  Ella went to work at seven-thirty the next morning. As she came in through the station’s main entrance, Justine walked over from the front desk to meet her. “Margaret Bruno came to see me this morning and asked if we’d decided when to do the workshop. Big Ed came by a few minutes later and told me to talk to you and then schedule something ASAP. The chief remembers Bruno coming over with Delbert Shives the other day, and she’s stopped by his office twice since then, reminding him that the Tribal Council has given her and the department a deadline for completing all the sessions. He wants her out of his face.”

  “I still haven’t looked at the folder I was given with their agenda. How long is her workshop?”

  “Three hours, and that includes a simulation exercise, apparently. It’ll be on paper—role playing I suppose, because the tribe can’t afford a training facility.”

  “Three hours? Is she here now?” Ella asked. “I didn’t see her come in.”

  Justine pointed ahead. Margaret Bruno was talking to Big Ed in his doorway, a crowded place indeed with his tree-trunk torso.

  Seeing Ella, Big Ed gestured with his head to get her attention. He then excused himself from the sturdy-looking Anglo woman and quickly ushered Ella into his office. “I want you to get this workshop over and done with. This woman is like a mosquito buzzing around that you can’t seem to swat. I don’t want nondepartmental people or outside consultants hanging around—no matter how much the council likes her.”

  “So that’s the real problem,” Ella observed with a wry smile. Big Ed hated having anything forced on him.

  Big Ed shrugged. “Just set a schedule and get it over with. Her next workshop is set up for offi
cers at Window Rock in three days. So if you and the SI team don’t want to have to go all the way there, make other arrangements before that. Get her out of our hair for good.”

  As Ella came out she saw Bruno, wearing a tag ID that said “visitor,” sitting in a chair in the waiting area at the end of the hallway. The woman was sipping from a styrofoam cup of coffee. She stood up as she saw Ella emerge and came toward her. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you again, Investigator Clah, but you’ve been out in the field every time I’ve stopped by. I understand how busy your team is, and I was wondering if you’d prefer scheduling three one-hour sessions that you can fit into your schedule, as opposed to trying to set aside one large block of time.”

  Ella nodded slowly. It would get the job done. At the moment, taking three hours for a workshop they didn’t need was a luxury they could ill afford with a murder case pending.

  “How about if you give us the first hour right now since you’re already here?” Ella suggested. “I can round up my team. Everyone should have checked in by now.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I can have everything I need set up in five minutes. Where do you want to meet?” Bruno glanced around.

  “What kind of facilities do you need?”

  “I’m easy.” Bruno smiled, obviously trying the Miss Congeniality approach after their awkward first meeting. “Just a room with a door we can close for privacy and enough chairs for your people. I have a small table, a video player, and a dry erase board. An electrical outlet would be nice. If there’s an available briefing room, that would do.”

  “First door on your left down the hall.” Ella looked at her watch. “Maybe the desk sergeant can help you bring in your gear while I notify my people.”

  “I can handle it. Just three trips to my unit…car,” Bruno said, correcting herself. “I know we didn’t hit it off right last time, but I’m used to a low-enthusiasm level from the line officers. I know exactly where you’re all coming from. I was a cop once and remember pain-in-the-ass workshops that more than often were just a waste of time.”

  “Is that what it’s going to be?” Ella asked with a thin smile.

  “No way. I’ve been there, done that, and told myself I’d never waste a cop’s time with doublespeak or BS games. I promise this won’t put you to sleep.” Bruno smiled.

  Hoping the woman would be true to her word, Ella went to find the others.

  Twenty minutes later, Ella was busy writing her responses to an imaginary scenario Bruno had given each of her team. The woman, who had a no-nonsense style that was surprisingly refreshing, was quizzing their knowledge and judgment on a hypothetical takeover of a small oil refinery.

  “You have five more minutes to come up with a plan of action. And I don’t want any bureaucratic communications, command-and-control theory BS. I want to know how you’d implement your plan of action under the given circumstances. Will you negotiate, sit tight and contain, or sneak in a SWAT team to take the perps down and pray you don’t all end up toast? Justify your choices. We’ll be going over your responses as a group, dissecting and evaluating all the specifics.”

  Bruno was walking slowly back and forth between Ella, Justine, Ralph Tache, and Sergeant Neskahi, who had reluctantly opted to sit in because he’d served with the unit during better-funded times and knew it was expected of him.

  Everyone had come in voicing opposition to a boring, droning lecture emphasizing management theories and legal issues right out of some law enforcement journal. After about ten minutes they’d been pleasantly surprised to find the workshop was a practical one, geared to officers who’d already been on the line during a takeover. None of them would ever forget the events at the power plant last year, and this workshop recalled that crisis.

  Justine was working intently, barely touching the cola Bruno had provided each officer. A nice touch, Ella had to admit.

  At the end of the hour, Bruno thanked the officers, asked them to turn in a quick evaluation sheet, then sign their names and badge numbers on her attendance list. While they finished up, she started putting away her materials. Nobody was so enthused that they actually stayed around to ask questions, but as Bruno had promised, it hadn’t been boring, and Ella said as much in her evaluation of the session.

  Ella said good-bye and walked back to her office, her mind back on the case. Justine joined her a moment later. “At least it wasn’t a total waste,” Justine said, holding up her cola and taking a sip. “What’s next?”

  “We’re going to go talk to Kee Franklin again,” Ella said, leading the way out. “Just so you know, I’m going to be pushing him harder this time. If he’s holding anything back, and I think he might be, I want to know. In the past, some parents I’ve interviewed have tried to protect the memory of their kids by withholding information. I want to make very sure that’s not the case now.”

  “We certainly need more to go on. By the way, I caught up with Officer Muskett in her office and spoke to her about the professor. She wasn’t much help. Apparently they’ve been seeing each other for about three months or so, but she says he doesn’t talk much at all about his past. They discuss tribal politics, and NEED, but only in general terms. She says they mostly enjoy each other’s company, and have gone fishing together a few times, but mostly hang out at his house or go out for dinner and a movie.”

  “Did you get the impression Judy would protect him by withholding information?” Ella asked.

  “No, Judy came across very professionally to me. I think it’s just a case of two lonely people enjoying each other’s company, despite their age differences. A low-stress relationship that both of them want to keep that way. I wonder what that’s like?” Justine smiled.

  “If I ever have one, I’ll let you know,” Ella responded.

  The drive to Farmington from the station was just short of a half hour, and they arrived at Kee Franklin’s home less than ten minutes later. By the time Ella and Justine reached the porch, Kee opened the door and invited them in. He was wearing a light sports jacket and dress slacks, and she suddenly wondered if the man even owned a pair of jeans.

  “I saw you officers driving up from the kitchen window. I just fixed a pot of coffee. Shall I get you both a cup?”

  Ella nodded. Normally she wouldn’t have accepted, but right now, keeping it informal and friendly might get her better results.

  They sat down in the comfortable hardwood chairs by the kitchen table. Coffee was served in white stoneware cups and saucers. Ella took a sip, noting that the coffee was excellent, and remained quiet until Kee finally sat down across from her and Justine. “This isn’t a social visit, I’m certain from your expressions, so tell me how I can help you,” he said.

  “We’re trying to get a better picture of what your son was like, which might give us some insight into what happened that night, and why. I know he was a dedicated police officer, but that’s only part of the story. What was he like away from the job? Did you two share the same interests?”

  He shook his head. “We really didn’t think alike at all except when it came to NEED. I moved to this area about six months ago, when NEED first became an issue. All the buzz had really aroused my interest. My son, who was also against the project, found that we were on the same side of the fence and suggested we join forces. Between his practicality and people skills and my theoretical and scientific knowledge and contacts in the technical world, we were the perfect team. We might not have defeated NEED in the long run, but we would have at least slowed down the momentum long enough to give people on the reservation time to think things through.”

  Ella leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Did others also see you as formidable team?”

  It took him a beat, but understanding dawned in his eyes. “You mean, could that be the reason he was killed?”

  Ella looked at him, but didn’t confirm or deny.

  Kee leaned back in his chair, apparently lost in thought. The crackling piñon wood log fire in the fireplace was the only sound in the room
. It took several moments before he spoke. “I’ve been approached by NEED proponents on several occasions. They want me to serve as an advisor and consultant, adding credibility and approval to their venture. Although I’ve turned them down each time, they’ve never given up. But those people wouldn’t have harmed my son to pressure me to change my mind. They would know that the only thing a tactic like that would have gotten them is my undying hatred.”

  “Did anyone ever try to pressure your son into changing his mind about NEED?” Ella asked.

  He shook his head. “He’s been in a lot of public debates. But trying to force my son to do anything is almost a guarantee that he’ll do exactly the opposite.”

  Ella nodded. “Have you received any threats because of your stand on the issue?”

  “No.” He gave her a long, speculative look. “I must say your line of questioning surprises me. I’d understood that my son was killed during a break-in at his mother’s garage. Shouldn’t you be focusing on finding the thief who murdered him?”

  “We’re still exploring all the avenues. The truth is that we’ve been through everything in that warehouse and found absolutely nothing worth stealing in there, and no indication that the killer found what he was looking for and took it with him. Can you think of a reason why someone would believe there was something valuable stored there?”

  Ella saw a flash of alarm in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, making her wonder if she’d really seen it at all. The impression just added fuel to her belief that he was keeping something from them.

  “My ex-wife is married to a military officer. She’s traveled the world over. If she had something of value she wanted to protect, she’d stick it in a bank safety-deposit box, or a safe, not a dusty garage five miles out of town.” He stood up. “Keep working to find answers, please, Investigator Clah. My son’s blood was shed, and the department owes him some justice.” He paused, then added, “If you don’t mind some advice?”