by Aimée
“Good thought, and I have to admit, the guy has got what it takes, too. He handled himself pretty well the other times our paths have crossed. While you’re talking to Wilson, I’ll keep trying to track down Frank Smith. He wasn’t at home when I stopped by and the neighbors haven’t seen him in a few days. I’ll stay on it, though, and let you know if I learn anything from him or the other Anglo employees on my list.”
Ella checked her watch as she drove back. It was too late to go anywhere except home now. She’d have dinner, and then maybe give Wilson a call.
Picking up her radio, she contacted Justine. “Channel six,” Ella said, instructing her assistant to switch frequencies.
“You want a report, but I haven’t got one,” Justine said. “I just called the M.E. and she wasn’t too thrilled with me for trying to hurry her along. She said if I kept calling to check, it would take longer—whether it did or not.”
Ella laughed. “Don’t bug her. It’ll just make Carolyn dig in her heels. I’ve got something else I want you to do. Go over to the coal mine office. It’s open twenty-four hours a day. Get a full employee list, current and former, for the past five years. If you see any name you recognize, any of our tribe you feel you know well, pay him a visit. I need some background on what’s going on over there. We’ll go through the official channels next, but in this case, an unofficial visit to a friend is probably going to get us further.”
“I’ll get on it. You taking a sixty-one?”
“Yeah, I’m going to have dinner at home. You can reach me there.”
As she drove up the dirt track to her mother’s house, she saw her brother Clifford’s old truck parked there. Loretta, her sister-in-law was hovering near the living room window, watching her one-year-old, who was standing on the sofa, looking out.
Loretta waved as she approached. The young Navajo woman had managed to get her girlish figure back in record time. Ella studied her face and saw the contentment that shone there. Loretta was suited for motherhood. She practically glowed with happiness.
“Hi there!” Ella greeted, as she entered the house. She bent over and scooped the baby up from the sofa. “And how are you doing, short-stuff?” The baby squealed and laughed as she tickled him.
“Be careful now, Ella,” Loretta cautioned. “If he gets too excited, he’ll have an upset stomach when he eats dinner.”
“Oh, come on. He’ll be fine.” There was an ongoing argument between Clifford and his wife concerning Loretta’s over-protectiveness. Since the trouble with the skinwalkers right before Julian was born, and their attempts against the child at the hospital, Loretta refused to let the baby out of her sight for even a few minutes.
“I’m really glad you came by. Your mother was just complaining that she never has the family over here for dinner anymore. She says you’re always working.”
“Not always, but my job’s never been eight to five,” Ella agreed, leading the way into the den.
Clifford glanced up from his newspaper and smiled at his sister. “I’m glad to see you. You’re going to stick around for a while?”
“That depends. I’m on a case, so if I get a call I’ll have to go, but I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to talk to you,” Ella said, noting that Loretta had taken Julian on through to the kitchen.
Ella motioned Clifford into their father’s former study. Nowadays the room had been converted into Ella’s office. Her mother had hoped she’d do more of her work from home after that, but it hadn’t worked out that way. As she’d tried to explain to her mother, field work couldn’t be done from an office, and most paperwork had to remain at the station. Subsequently, she’d tried to get her mom to turn it into her knitting and weaving room, but there were still too many memories confined between these walls for her.
“What’s going on?” Clifford asked the moment she closed the door.
“Have you … have you noticed anything unusual, you know, out of the ordinary, lately?”
“How so?” Clifford’s eyes narrowed, and from the tightening there she knew her brother had guessed what was on her mind.
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling,” Ella said.
“Skinwalkers?”
She took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, and blew the air out slowly. “It’s difficult to say yes or no to that. I don’t sense anything specific. Well, no, that’s not true. I sense … trouble. Something’s brewing on the Rez, brother. And it’s going to come to the surface soon. We may have a problem containing it.”
“You’re talking in the context of a police investigation, yet what worries you goes well beyond that.”
She was always amazed at her brother’s talents. He could read people better than anyone else she’d ever known. He had other gifts, too, some associated with his training as a hataalii. But some gifts he had surpassed his training, and those had always made her uneasy. Hers was an orderly mind, and anything she couldn’t classify and explain disturbed her equanimity. She would have liked to explain away some of her brother’s special abilities as trickery and illusion, much like a magician’s. But, deep down, she knew it was far more involved than that.
“A police officer’s instincts aren’t always precise,” she replied at length.
“But your intuitions are more than that, and you know it,” he said, then raised his hand to stem her protests. “The problem with you is that you’re too proud for your own good. You don’t want to think that your intuitions are part of a gift, a special magic that you alone possess. You’d much rather think that it’s simply an intellectual process going on in your subconscious because you’re smart, and highly trained in law enforcement.”
Ella forced herself not to cringe. There was truth in what he said, and that was why it stung so much. “I am smart, and I’m proud of my skills. I worked my hind end off to get them.”
“But you should still acknowledge that you have an extra source of help within yourself that’s made you successful.”
“Yeah, well…” she shrugged.
“Pride,” he said, shaking his head.
“Will you answer my question? It’s important. I need your opinion.” Ella watched her older brother as he sat down and regarded her thoughtfully.
“I can tell you that there’s a restlessness among the people. I can feel that as well as you do, but I’m also not sure what’s behind it. Conversations stop when I draw near, as if there’s something happening The People want to keep from me. I haven’t experienced anything like that since the time when our father was killed.”
Ella nodded. “I had a very uncomfortable feeling out on the highway today when I was out investigating an accident. I felt I was being watched, but there was no one around. At least no one that I could see.”
Clifford nodded. “Disturbing. I’ll see what I can learn.” He stood up slowly. “But now it’s time for family, not business. Let’s go, little sister.”
As they joined the others, Ella couldn’t shake the uneasiness that plagued her. She went through the motions, eating tasty mutton stew and fry bread with her family, trying not to take sides when Clifford and Loretta argued about the baby, but her mind was on the case. When the phone rang, her mother glanced at her.
“No doubt it’s for you. It’s just as well. You’ve been here physically, but your mind hasn’t been with us all evening.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be so distant.” She walked into the living room and picked up the receiver. It was Justine.
“I just got a call from Billy Pete,” her assistant said. “He told me that it’s important he talk to you tonight.”
“Where does he want to meet?”
“At the Totah Café.”
She relaxed. At least that wasn’t a likely place for an ambush. Not that she didn’t trust Billy Pete, but people under stress did weird things. “Okay. What time?”
“Eight. Something else. Dr. Roanhorse released the body. She said she had all the tissue samples she needed. Rather than fight the senator,
who showed up at the hospital with some honchos from the tribal council, she signed the papers.”
“Did she give you a preliminary autopsy report yet?”
“No. She said she’d speak to you directly about that. She didn’t want to bother you at home, so she asked me to tell you to call her anytime after nine tonight. She’ll be in meetings at the hospital until then.”
“All right. I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, I’m going to go to the café. I’ll talk to you later.”
Ella reached back and checked her pistol, then put on her windbreaker. She was almost ready to go when Rose came into the room.
“You’re leaving? You just got here.”
“I won’t be gone long.”
“Don’t you want any dessert?”
“I’ll have some when I come back, okay?”
“When are you going to start taking some time for yourself? You haven’t had your friends over in a long time. I can accept that you don’t want to marry Wilson, though I just don’t understand why. But how are you going to meet anyone if all you do is work and play with your computer?”
“I love Wilson, he’s been a great friend. But I’m not in love with him; that’s why we could never marry. And I’m not looking to meet anyone either,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Not everyone’s life’s path is the same.”
“You will want to marry again someday, daughter. I just hope it won’t be too late by then for you to give me grandchildren.”
Ella walked out the door, knowing from experience that this conversation was going nowhere. They’d had it a million times before. She’d fallen in love and been married once, and had found her identity as a wife, but she’d been young then, and more uncertain of who she was. But her husband had died. Since that time, she’d matured and found her own sense of purpose. She’d never again be able to adapt so easily to the needs and demands of married life, even if she did happen to fall in love again. Her priorities were different now, just as she was different from the girl she’d been then.
It had been an extremely long day, and Ella’s thoughts drifted as she drove down the almost deserted highway. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, and the syrupy darkness of the unlit highway was by now so familiar to her it seemed routine. At night this stretch of highway was illuminated only by headlights, and the moon when a driver was lucky. But she knew every pothole and every curve by heart.
She listened to the silence around her. Even the two-way radio was still. Police work could be lonely at times, but she couldn’t envision herself doing anything else.
Ella thought of Wilson Joe. Despite her mother’s wishes, there could never have been a future between them. Although his devotion to teaching was as great as hers to police work, she didn’t think he’d ever be able to put up with the long hours, and the pressure, and the nightmares that were all part of her work. Eventually, her career would have driven a wedge between them.
Ella was almost at the Totah Café when, along the outer edge of light cast by her headlights, she caught a glimpse of an elderly Navajo woman wearing a canvas jacket and the usual colorful scarf over her head. With the assistance of a cane, she was walking back and forth beside a truck on the shoulder of the road, adjacent to what looked like a used pickup lot. Ella pulled in behind her and called dispatch, giving her ’20.
The elderly woman approached Ella’s vehicle, speaking fast in Navajo. Ella couldn’t make out a word of it.
“Calm down,” she said, hooking the mike back up and opening her door. “Do you speak English?”
Another stream of fast Navajo was her only reply. Ella got out and went over to look at the woman’s truck. The minute she was clear of her Jeep, all the headlights came on from the parked trucks. Trapped by the row of bright lights, she couldn’t see. Ella reached back for her gun with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other.
“This is only a warning,” a surprisingly clear voice boomed out from behind the glare. She could tell from the rhythm of his speech that the man who spoke was Navajo, though she couldn’t see his face.
“We could have killed you tonight—understand that. The danger to you doesn’t come from us, but if you don’t back off, we will not be held responsible for your safety. We will handle the problems at the mine, and restore harmony. Do not interfere.”
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why are you afraid to show yourselves?”
Instead of an answer, she heard engines start up. For a moment, she thought they were going to run her over.
FOUR
Ella drew her pistol. If she went down, a few of them would go with her. She held her breath, but in a heartbeat, the trucks roared past her onto the highway.
Still shaking, Ella turned around, looking for the elderly woman who had lured her into the trap, but she, along with her broken-down truck, was gone.
Ella walked back to her Jeep, and called the incident in. A moment later, Justine was on the radio.
“Do you need backup?”
“No, it’s over. I just wanted to alert any patrol units in the area to be on the lookout for five or six pickups traveling together, or meeting somewhere further up the highway.”
“I’m near your location. I’ll go look around.”
“Watch yourself then. I’m going to see if Billy Pete is at the Totah Café, though I doubt it. I think that was part of the set-up.”
Ella entered the Totah Café a few minutes later. The place was nearly empty except for one waitress, Betsy Bekis, who was sitting behind the empty counter. Ella had known Betsy since high school.
“Hi. Slow night?” Ella greeted.
“No more than usual,” Betsy replied with a bored yawn.
“Have you seen Billy Pete in here tonight?”
She shook her head. “He comes in often for dinner since his wife left him, but he wasn’t in today, at least on my shift.”
“Do you have any idea where I might be able to find him?”
“You could ask Linda Begay. She goes out with him a lot. Do you know where she lives?”
After getting directions from Betsy, Ella drove directly to Linda Begay’s trailer home, parked in an open lot north of the café, up on the mesa. She studied the surroundings for a moment, noting the absence of a hogan or any other sign that a traditionalist lived here. An old pickup with a starboard list stood empty by the trailer, where she could see the muted light of a TV flashing just beyond the curtains, and a half-dozen beer cans overflowing a beat-up trash can by the front steps. Taking one last look around, Ella walked up to the door and knocked. Moments later, a half asleep, chunky-looking woman appeared, still fastening her pink, terry-cloth robe.
“What is it? It’s past nine, and that’s my bedtime. I have to be at work early.”
“I was looking for Billy Pete,” Ella said, flashing her badge. “Any idea where I might find him?”
“Try the hospital. He’s been there since dinnertime, stoned out of his mind on morphine. He’s got a problem with kidney stones.”
A quick call on the cellular phone and Ella’s suspicions were confirmed. Since Billy was in the hospital, unable to make phone calls, someone else had used Billy’s name when they’d phoned Justine. She returned to the trailer door to question an even grumpier Linda Begay. “I spoke to Billy earlier today, and I know he was very disturbed about what was going on at the mine,” Ella said, using a technique she’d found effective. When she led people to believe she knew more than she actually did, she usually ended up getting good information.
“He and the others can handle it over there. Nobody’s going to get away with anything. Those troublemakers that started it—” she stopped abruptly. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“It’s okay. All I’m trying to do is keep Billy from getting hurt.”
Linda’s eyes became cold and wary. “Billy can take care of himself. He’s only doing what has to be done to restore harmony. Your brother is a Singer. Maybe he can do an Enemy Way Sing at the mine.”
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“Why? An Enemy Way is for purifying those who have come in contact with the enemy.”
“Or those who are ill because of contact with the whites. They’ve caused a death. Isn’t that enough?”
“It isn’t the same thing and, besides, an Enemy Way should be done in the summer.”
“It will be summer in another two months.”
“Our Way isn’t like some kind of glue, where you put a little ritual here and a little blessing there to hold things together.”
“Oh yeah, and you know all about it, L.A. Woman.”
“What I don’t know, at least I respect. My brother is a great teacher, but I’m not an expert in anything except law enforcement. From my police training I know that there’s a situation brewing here that needs my attention. Yours, too, if you care at all for Billy Pete.”
“I care enough to let him do things his own way, whether or not I agree with him. And that means not answering your questions.”
Before Ella could say anything else, the door was slammed in her face. Ella shrugged, then walked back to her Jeep, wishing she’d had the energy to be a little more tactful and patient with the woman. It was time to call it a night.
By the time she arrived home, Ella felt an intense weariness stealing over her. The house was dark and the absence of her brother’s truck told her that he and his family had gone home. Her mother was undoubtedly in bed. The problem was, Ella was too wound up to get any sleep.
Ella walked to the small PC in the corner of her room. With her hectic schedule, the only semblance of a social life she had these days was on the Internet. She liked getting E-mail and chatting with people from all over the world, though she rarely let anyone know she was a cop. If they inquired, she normally said she worked for the tribe.
As she entered the electronic service she subscribed to, she saw her mailbox icon was blinking. As usual, Wilson Joe had written her a short note. If it hadn’t been for E-Mail, she might have lost touch with him completely. Yet, by exchanging posts, they’d grown closer. Funny how you could open up to someone and say things on a computer that you’d never actually say in person.
