“And what about his son?” Ella asked.
“The police officer who was killed?” Seeing Ella nod, he continued. “I heard about that. But if you’re asking me if we tried to recruit him, too, the answer is no. I’d heard that Officer Franklin stood with his father on the NEED issue, and he talked up the issue whenever he got the chance, but that’s really all I know about him.”
“Did you ever worry that Professor Kee would organize the opposition and defeat your plans for NEED?”
George laughed. “Not at all. But if our opponents ever joined forces, that would only make us work harder. I truly believe that we’re in the right on this one. If the NEED project is realized, it’ll benefit our tribe for generations.”
“How much have you already invested in this?”
“Everything I have—which admittedly isn’t much. But Jeffrey Jim and several of our politicians have also invested heavily in us.”
“Which politicians?”
George Charley shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to say, at least not yet. But their money has helped us launch our own advertising-informational campaign. We’re determined to get the word out and sway as many people as possible. In fact, I’m also scheduled to go one-on-one with George Branch on his radio program.”
“Good luck there,” Ella said, unable to keep the distaste from her voice.
He smiled. “I don’t expect it to be easy, but without the full support of the Dineh, we’ll never be able to get the funding necessary.”
“What can you tell me about Professor Franklin’s professional credentials?” Ella asked. She had a feeling that this man knew something he hadn’t said, perhaps something connected to that gap in Franklin’s background.
George took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I know he’s highly qualified. He was once the best in his field—though half the stuff he did was classified.”
“Then how do you know he was really that good?”
“I don’t know anything, but it’s a guess based on some papers he published. I also completed an internship at Los Alamos in one of their research labs during college, and I heard about Dr. Franklin’s reputation then.”
“He was also a professor at the college in Los Alamos,” Justine said. “He should be very good explaining complicated technology to people who aren’t on his level.”
George nodded. “As I said, we want him on board, and we’re not giving up.”
“Do you think he’ll eventually join your efforts?” Ella asked.
“He’s a highly intelligent man. In comparison to him, all of us here have the IQ of carrots, at least in physics. Sooner or later, he’ll see that NEED is going to give the tribe what it has never had before—self-determination.”
“Thanks for your time, Mr. Charley,” Ella said, then walked back outside, Justine right behind her.
“That’s an interesting perspective on Professor Franklin, but it doesn’t get us any closer to Jason’s killer,” Justine said as she climbed back into the vehicle. “In my opinion, the break-in is at the center of this. We both agree that the killer couldn’t have known Jason would stop by. If Jason had been marked for murder, the hit could have taken place anywhere else and at less risk to the killer.”
Ella nodded. “Jason went into that garage ready to catch a burglar. If I wanted to murder a cop, I’d catch him or her cold, not primed for trouble. I agree with you that the break-in has to be connected. Now we’ve got to figure out how and why,” Ella said.
They were on the way back to the station, which wasn’t far, when Ella’s cell phone rang. She answered it on the first ring, identifying herself.
“Hey, Special Investigator.”
She recognized Harry Ute’s voice. They’d been dating for months now, taking things slow. He was a totally different man from the one who’d worked for her as a member of the Special Investigations Unit. “Hey, Deputy,” she replied with a smile.
“Deputy Federal Marshal, please. I have an image to protect now.”
Ella laughed. “What’s up?”
“I’m coming to Farmington to pick up a prisoner to transport for trial in Albuquerque, but I’ll be in half a day early. How about dinner?”
“Tonight? If so, it’s a date. The Totah Café?”
“Yeah. Sounds good. Seven?”
“That works for me.”
Justine smiled at her. “Sure looks like you and Harry have a thing going.”
“You’ve got romance on the brain. First George and Marie, now me and Harry.”
“Don’t bother to deny it,” Justine said nonchalantly. “I can sense things like this.”
“Okay, Radar. But we’re just dating. Nothing serious.”
“Yeah, sure.”
A comfortable silence fell between them as they drove to the station. Finally, Justine spoke. “I’m thinking that it’s time I expanded my search of the database to include neighboring communities. Maybe there’s a burglar prone to violence working our area.”
Ella nodded.
“Your brother Clifford now goes over to the Arizona side of the Rez for Sings and to treat patients. Maybe we should ask if he’s seen or heard something from other communities in the area.”
“Good idea. I’ll go pay him a visit while you follow up on the other things.”
Once they reached the station, Justine went inside, and Ella walked over to her own vehicle. It had been a while since she’d seen her brother. She was glad for a chance to go visit him—that is, if he was at home today. His patients lived all over the reservation.
En route, she entered Clifford’s number on the cell phone, but no one answered. That wasn’t unusual, however, because his “practice” had expanded, and he was often gone seeing patients. There was no phone in his medicine hogan either, where he spent most of his time when at home.
Clifford’s home was farther down the same road where her mother lived, and in a small canyon. As Ella pulled up, she saw smoke rising from the smoke hole in the medicine hogan’s roof. Loretta’s car was gone, and no vehicles or horses were around except for Clifford’s pickup, but that didn’t mean a patient hadn’t walked here. People were still used to walking great distances on the Rez all times of the year.
She got out of the SUV, then leaned against the side of the vehicle and waited.
Soon her brother stepped out and waved at her, inviting her to come inside and join him. He was as tall as she, and two years older. As did many Navajo men, Clifford wore jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. He had a simple leather belt with no fancy buckle, and wore a leather medicine pouch at his waist rather than a nine-millimeter handgun as she did. His hair was a bit shorter than hers, however, though it extended below his shoulders, and was confined somewhat by the traditional blue bandanna medicine men often wore.
“I haven’t seen you for a while,” Clifford said. His voice was warm, but obeying the taboo that forbade a brother and sister to touch, he made no attempt to hug her.
“I’ve got a crazy work schedule, and Mom’s keeping me busy—almost as much as my daughter.” Here, out of respect to his traditional beliefs, no names would be used. Names had power and were not to be spoken casually. “How’s your wife and son?”
“They’re doing fine, and have been going with me on some of my trips across the mountains into Arizona, school permitting, of course. Very few Navajo men are learning the Sings needed for healing ceremonies in these times, and I’m being called upon more and more. It’s necessary, but hard on our home life,” Clifford acknowledged. “Can you stay for dinner? My wife and son went into Shiprock for groceries, but there will be plenty to go around when they return.”
“Thanks, but I have plans. Maybe some other time.” Ella smiled.
Clifford nodded. “So when are you going to tell me why you really stopped by?”
“Angry voices are being raised in conversation everywhere, not just at the Chapter Houses these days. I’m worried about the safety of our mother, who seems to be right in th
e thick of things. Of course she has a right to do as she pleases, but I sure wish she’d stay in the background more.”
“Not our mother. There are some out there who’d like to shut her up, you know.” Clifford shook his head.
Ella nodded. “I agree, but there’s nothing we can do about that. You and I have spoken to her about that more than once, and our words just go in one ear and out the other.”
Clifford smiled at the expression their father had used frequently when they were children, then invited her to sit on of the sheepskin rugs placed on the hogan floor. “I’m beginning to understand where you got your spirit of adventure,” he said with a grin.
“It’s interesting,” she admitted. “Mom and I have finally found something we have in common.”
He laughed and continued working, crushing some herbs inside a pottery bowl with a piece of deer antler he’d fashioned into a grinder, like a chemist with mortar and pestle. Then his expression grew serious. “I heard about the police officer. Is that another reason why you’re here?”
“Mostly,” she said with a nod, then told him about the theory that a violent burglar had been the killer. “Have you seen or heard anything during your travels that I can use?”
“No, but if I do, I’ll tell you immediately.”
“Thanks. You see so many people, so I can really use your help.”
“Sure, but the nuclear power plant issue is just about the only thing people talk about these days with unemployment so high. There’s a lot of opposition, but I think the ones who support the idea are slowly wearing down the others.”
“We need to provide more job opportunities for our people. There’s no escaping that,” Ella said.
“But I have to tell you, Sister. I sure wish that we could go back to the days when people lived off the land. We would plant corn and melons, and have our sheep. These days the Rez is getting to be like the Anglo world—nothing gets done without cash.”
“We can’t be herders and farmers. Those days are gone. The lack of rain and the abuse of the land have made certain of that.”
“These days we spend more time arguing about the land than we do working with it,” he said sadly. “The ones who are really caught in a dead-end situation are the anaashii, squatters who live on someone else’s land. They have no other place to live, or money to buy land off the Rez. They build a house wherever they can, hoping they don’t get kicked off.”
“The tribe builds housing, but people still have to pay rent. Our population continues to grow, and without jobs…”
“In my opinion, we’ve lost as much as we’ve gained the last hundred years.”
“No, I don’t agree,” Ella said. “I like modern conveniences, like TV, electricity, and indoor plumbing with safe drinking water. I would have been miserable watching a flock of sheep, hauling in water, and staying out in the cold all night during lambing season.”
“Spoken like a true modernist.”
Hearing hoofbeats, she stood up. “That sounds like one of your patients.”
“It probably is. I’m expecting someone.”
She walked to the entrance and pushed aside the blanket that served as a door. “If you hear anything I should know about concerning NEED, call me. Something tells me I should keep an eye on them.”
Seeing a young woman and another older one who looked like her mother riding up on two slender geldings, Clifford waved.
The younger woman waved back, slid off her mount, lifted away the simple bridle, and released the animal to search for grass while she continued on to the hogan. The older lady climbed down more leisurely, then began to tend her horse. Ella returned to her SUV, suspecting the mother was there for reasons of propriety.
Ella had always envied her brother. He had the respect of almost everyone in the Four Corners, and his services, unlike those of a police officer, were always valued and held in high regard. Competent traditional healers were becoming rare on the Navajo Nation, and people came from all over the Rez to see him.
As she drove away, Ella thought about the recent break in tradition she and Clifford had tacitly agreed upon. In the Navajo culture, children growing up had historically been given more attention and guidance from the mother’s side of the family, usually from the aunts and uncles.
In their own situation, Clifford had found that the time he’d spent with Dawn was time denied his own son Julian because his wife Loretta’s brother lived too far away to give Julian any attention, and she had no sisters. The situation was becoming a strain on their marriage, so Clifford had opted to spend less time with Dawn and more with his son. Dawn, with day school and Jennifer Clani as a sitter when Ella was gone, hadn’t suffered for lack of attention.
Ella returned to the station, hoping for positive news. As she went into her office, Justine was inside, placing a file folder on her desk.
“What’s that?”
Justine jumped. “Jeez, make a little noise, will ya, Ella? You nearly gave me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that.”
“Next time I’ll wear a bell,” Ella teased. “So what’s in the folder?”
“A detailed report on all the physical evidence we’ve collected.”
“Good.” Ella leafed through the pages, then glanced up. “Save me some time. Is there anything new in here I need to know about right now?”
“I’ve been searching all the police data files in our area, and I’ve found one burglar who’s shown a propensity for violence. The man broke into several homes in Farmington, all owned by single women, and then beat and robbed the residents.”
“Rape?”
“No. Just generic violence.”
“No commercial places, just private homes?” Ella asked.
Justine nodded. “That’s the only suspect that’s got an MO that’s even close. But he threatens his victims with a knife, not a gun.”
“And what about gang activity? Anything on burglaries?”
“There’s no known activity in this area of the Rez at the moment, and this crime certainly doesn’t fit the MO of any of the gangs in our area. They often wear hats or caps, yes, but not wigs. Tache and Neskahi have been talking to people, but so far, they haven’t been able to turn up anything.”
“That alone tends to rule out the kids,” Ella commented. “They almost always brag about their activities.”
“I agree. Right now, I’m following up on the wig. The dark hairs we found didn’t come from a cheap model.”
“Anything on that?”
“Not yet. I did go to a store in Farmington that sells wigs but they didn’t have the type we’re looking for—a particular blend of synthetic that’s very close to human hair. They suggested I try some mail-order companies.”
“Why don’t we call it a night and get back to it tomorrow bright and early?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ella stood up and grabbed her keys from the desk when her cell phone rang. “Uh-oh.”
Ella identified herself, then listened to the patch from the field. “I’m on my way,” she said after a moment.
Justine was looking at her expectantly. “We’re not going home, are we?”
“Not by a long shot. There’s been a shooting in the parking lot of the Quick Stop. We’re needed over there right now. Billy Redhouse, the tribal councilman, has been shot and killed.”
Ten
Ella parked in front of the Quick Stop, a successful north side business in the Shiprock community that provided convenience store foods and gasoline and diesel fuel to those in a hurry.
Justine and Tache pulled up in the crime-scene van and parked beside her. Ella got out and glanced around. On the north side of the building, away from the lights, she could see a large cream-colored luxury sedan, the driver’s side door open and the interior dome light shining. A faint mechanical purr told her that the engine was still running.
As the team got their equipment out, Ella approached carefully, searching the ground for evidence with her flashlight.
There were at least three sets of footprints she avoided stepping on, and a large tooled-leather wallet lay on the ground about halfway between the open door and the left front tire. She made sure not to disturb it.
As she reached the car, a new model Lincoln with all the extras, Ella saw the body. The victim’s head was resting on the steering wheel, and his arms dangled limply toward the floor-board. There was a gaping, ugly red hole about the size of a dime at the base of his head, but the flow of blood had stopped.
Ella studied the body. Most of the blood from the obviously fatal wound had flowed down the victim’s neck onto his collar and beyond. Crouching low, she was able to get into a good enough position to look at the man’s face, confirming it was Redhouse. A trickle of blood had flowed from his mouth, but unless that was the exit point, the bullet hadn’t passed completely through the skull.
Ella stood up. Redhouse had been attacked while seated in the vehicle. He’d either just gotten in, or had been about to get out. His seat belt wasn’t fastened in place, if he’d indeed been wearing it earlier. If the wallet on the ground was his, her guess was that it had been emptied.
As Justine came up Ella stepped back, pointing to the wallet on the ground and the prints. With her team at work, and Carolyn due to arrive shortly, she could do more inside the Quick Stop questioning the clerk.
“I’m going to turn off the engine, okay?” Justine said, holding up her hands, which were now covered with the Navajo standard two pairs of latex gloves.
“Go ahead. I’ll check inside the store and see what those inside saw or heard.”
Ella went around to the front of the store and saw the clerk, a middle-aged Navajo man with a sizable paunch, pacing back and forth in front of the counter. Philip Cloud, the patrolman who’d called in the report, was standing to one side of him.
As Ella approached, Philip took her aside. “The clerk’s name is Duncan Douglas. He says that the perp, a big guy, came into the store wearing a Halloween mask, one of an ugly bald-headed man that covers the entire head. The perp waved a gun, pointing to the cash register. Douglas opened the drawer, and the perp pushed him down on the floor, never saying a word. Douglas said that he grabbed the cash with gloved hands and ran back outside. Douglas stayed down at first because he was too afraid to move, but then he heard a shot. Thinking he’d be next, he grabbed the phone and made the call from beneath the counter.”
Tracking Bear Page 12
