Bad Medicine

by Aimée

  He said nothing for several long moments. Finally he nodded. “I will not go in search of answers for you, but if they cross my path I’ll pass on what I feel you might find useful.”

  “That’s got more qualifications than a politician’s promise,” she commented.

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  As Ella drove away she felt glad that she’d spoken to Kevin. A man who was used to lying wouldn’t have qualified his statements so much. She sensed he was basically honest, but his loyalties were divided. Whether he’d be any help to her still remained to be seen.

  Ella had reached the highway when Blalock called to ask for a meeting in Farmington. She agreed to rendezvous at the diner at the east end of the shopping mall on Twentieth in half an hour.

  It was closer to thirty-five minutes later when Ella found herself sitting across the table from FB-Eyes. Blalock, sipping a glass of iced tea, was the first to bring up business. “I spoke to Watson. He insists that he swerved to avoid an old lady with a cane standing in the road, and lost control. Nothing in the police report contradicts that, though the officers who checked out the accident scene couldn’t find any old lady. Watson swears that no one came after him and that his accident has nothing to do with The Brotherhood.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I’m not sure. He sounded convincing enough, but he’s a proud man and likes handling things on his own terms. That fact came across very clearly. What have you uncovered?”

  Ella filled Blalock in on everything, except Billy Pete. “Next I’m going to try to find out more about the Navajo Justice Church.”

  “Good idea. I’m going to follow up on Truman. I’ve been questioning his neighbors, showing photos around, and trying to find out who he has met with during the past few months. I’m hoping to get a lead to The Brotherhood that way.”

  Ella returned to her vehicle. As she reached for her keys she glanced down at the driver’s-side door. The exterior of the Jeep had been vandalized. Someone had taken a metal object, perhaps a key or pocket knife, and etched the word “traitor” into the paint.

  THIRTEEN

  Ella went to the passenger’s side and unlocked the back carefully. With her investigative kit in hand, she worked over the surface, trying to find fingerprints. After ten minutes she gave up. Everything that had shown up was too smudged to be of much use. Not that she’d really expected to find anything. One didn’t leave many fingerprints when using a sharp metal object to vandalize a car. Still, it had been worth a try.

  Ella drove back to Shiprock, anger clouding her thinking. She’d been labeled worse than a traitor before, but this particular incident had come from out of left field.

  When Ella entered the station a short time later, Justine was just coming out of the lab.

  Justine’s eyes widened. “Wow. You sure look angry. What happened?”

  “Someone keyed my vehicle, and from what they wrote, it wasn’t just vandalism. I know I’m being followed.” Ella filled her in on the way to the office.

  “Who do you think it was?”

  “I was asking Kevin Tolino questions about the Native American Church and the Navajo Justice Church earlier, so common sense would suggest a Navajo, perhaps one of the Fierce Ones. But this happened in Farmington, outside the Rez, so it could have been an Anglo miner trying to set me against others of our tribe. I’d like to think I would have spotted anyone following me, but it’s possible I missed something. Or maybe they’d been tailing Blalock, but that doesn’t seem very likely either.”

  “Do you want me to see what I can do about expediting a repair?” Justine asked.

  “No, we can get to that later. Right now, you and I are going over to the college. We’ll track down Angelina’s friends and grill them separately about this mystery man.”

  “They don’t intimidate,” Justine warned. “We’ve tried pressing them before.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Ella grabbed a vehicle incident report form on her way out, then drove to the college with Justine. Out of stubbornness she’d refused to use Justine’s vehicle, opting for her own despite its vandalized appearance.

  Justine, sensing Ella’s mood, kept quiet as they continued down the highway. After ten minutes she broke the silence. “Dr. Roanhorse is back at work. She called you earlier, and I talked to her briefly.”

  “Did she leave a message?”

  “No, she said she’d catch up to you later. She was on her way to an inoculation clinic at Burnham. She sounded pretty chipper.”

  “I figured nothing would ever keep her down for too long. She’s a fighter,” Ella commented with a tiny smile.

  “So are you.”

  “We have a lot in common, that’s true enough. What helps us remain friends is that we both know there are boundaries neither of us is welcome to cross. Our work always takes priority.”

  Ella parked in the visitors lot near the large, octagonal building where Wilson Joe taught. “I’ll see if Wilson is in his office. You go to administration and get the schedules for the girls who were at the funeral.”

  Ella went directly to Wilson’s office. He was alone, grading papers, and greeted her with a distracted smile. “What brings you here, Ella? Police business?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Did you know Angelina Yellowhair, and if so, was she especially close to anyone?”

  “Yes, she was a student of mine. Ruby Atso was her best friend, I think, but she’s not going to help you much. She’s really tougher than nails for a woman so young. Your best bet would be to talk to Norma Frank. She’s a sweet, mannered young lady. I know she and Angelina spent a lot of time together between classes. Not that Angelina spent that much time in class, mind you. She cut more than she attended.”

  “Do you happen to have any idea where I could find Norma now?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I saw her a little while ago when I was coming back from a late lunch. She was studying under the cottonwood. She might still be there.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. It’s always good to see you.”

  She smiled, but didn’t answer. Once he was married, their closeness would fade. She didn’t need to look into his eyes to see that knowledge mirrored there. “I better go find Norma before she leaves.”

  Ella stepped outside and found Norma Frank exactly where Wilson had told her to look. Norma was so engrossed in a book she didn’t notice when Ella sat down beside her. Ella cleared her throat.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Officer. I was trying to finish this chapter and I assumed you were just another student looking for a shady spot.”

  “I need to ask you some questions, Norma, but we don’t have to talk here, if you’d rather it wasn’t so public.”

  “I don’t mind, but I’m not sure I can help you.”

  “Angelina’s boyfriend. What do you know about him.”

  “A boyfriend?” Norma’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know who you mean.”

  “I think you do.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Angelina wasn’t committed to anyone or anything, except having fun. If you’d hung around with her you would have known that. She flirted with practically every guy she met.”

  Ella knew Norma was keeping something back. The girl shifted nervously as if she were sitting on a bed of ants. “You’re not helping anyone if you don’t tell me what you know.”

  “I did tell you.” She opened the book again, refusing to look at Ella. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get some studying done.”

  Justine was coming up the sidewalk as Ella stood. Glancing down at Norma, who had almost literally buried her face in the book, and realizing she wasn’t going to get anything else from her, Ella walked over to meet Justine.

  “I saw Ruby Atso and Mary Tapahonso. Ruby wouldn’t tell me anything—at all. She started singing to herself when I asked a question. Mary looked like I was trying to lynch her. But even though she talked to me, I got very little that wa
s new from her, either. According to Mary, Angelina wasn’t committed to anyone or anything, except having fun. They went out in groups and—”

  “Angelina flirted with practically every guy they met?” Ella cut in.

  “Yes, how’d you know?” Justine’s eyebrows rose.

  “I got almost exactly the same words from Norma.” Ella nodded her head. “Looks like the girls rehearsed their stories a little too well.”

  “Which means they’re covering up for some reason,” Justine added excitedly. “This is classic interview stuff right out of the lectures at the police academy.”

  “Seems the tribe’s getting a little payback on our training. But go back to what you were saying about Mary.” Ella was encouraged.

  Justine nodded. “Mary said they liked to go to the Roundup, a country western bar between Farmington and Bloomfield. It’s far enough from the Rez that they could cut loose without meeting people who might carry tales back to Shiprock. According to Mary, half the fun was seeing who was there and who would hit on them.”

  “Tonight you and I will go to that bar—with photos—and see if anyone remembers Angelina. It’s possible she met her boyfriend there.”

  As they returned to the car Ella glanced at Justine. “I’m going to drop you off at the station. I want you to keep digging into the Navajo Justice Church. While you’re doing that, I’m going to pay another visit to Bitah’s ex-girlfriend, Judy Lujan.”

  Ella’s thoughts raced as she drove back toward the station. She could feel the heat of the chase intensifying with every beat of her heart.

  “Why are they protecting Angelina’s boyfriend? That’s what I can’t figure out,” Justine mused. “Can you?”

  “No. None of those girls comes across as particularly noble. They’re young and self-serving. That means they’re keeping quiet for personal reasons as well, not just to protect Angelina or some man.”

  “What are you hoping to get from Judy Lujan?”

  “She’s my link to Bitah, and I intend to find out all I can about his involvement with the Navajo Justice sect.”

  “They’re one heckuva rough group.”

  “You’ve heard about them?”

  “Sure, from local gossip. But the only people who know for sure what goes on in that church are their members.”

  Ella kept the Jeep above seventy until traffic thickened. “We have a special file on all kinds of reactionary groups. Access that and see if we have anything on the NJC. Talk to Blalock, too. He says the FBI knows more about us than we do. Let’s give him a chance to prove it,” she added with a smirk.

  By the time they arrived at the station, Ella was eager to get started. She went directly to her office and pulled up everything she could find on Judy Lujan. After verifying that she was not on duty, and getting her home address, Ella left the office.

  * * *

  Judy’s trailer home was bordered by wild grasses and sage, and a low mesa lay about a quarter mile to the north. From her Jeep, Ella could see two large dogs barking furiously in wire pens in the backyard. A small horse enclosure stood to the east of the trailer home.

  Ella stepped out of her vehicle and, as she looked around, Judy came around the trailer from the back. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was holding a saddle in both hands. “What brings you here?” she asked.

  “I hate to intrude on your time off, but I have to talk to you.”

  “I’ve told you all I know. Really.”

  “I have some new questions,” Ella insisted.

  Judy sighed, then cocked her head toward the trailer. “Okay. Come inside.”

  Ella watched as Judy dropped the saddle onto a wooden stand, then continued into the small kitchen. “Nice place,” Ella commented, noting how everything in the tiny trailer had been carefully selected for matching color and design. She didn’t care for lavender and blue, at least not in every room, but it was obvious Judy was fond of those shades.

  Judy dropped down into a chair and motioned for Ella to sit. “Okay, this is my day off and I’ve got tons to do. You’re not here to chitchat, so tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Your friend belonged to the Native American Church, then he quit to join the Navajo Justice Church.”

  Judy made a face. “That’s not much of a church, more of a legal dodge to allow activists to use peyote without being put in jail.”

  “Tell me about your friend,” Ella said, avoiding the name. She wouldn’t have categorized Judy as a traditionalist, but she had noted that Judy never mentioned Bitah by name either. Some habits were too ingrained in the Dineh no matter what their views on Navajo tradition were.

  “He said he could no longer follow the teachings of the Native American Church, so he left. He was, after all, an activist who believed in the rights of the Navajo.”

  “Was he happier being a part of the Navajo Justice Church?”

  “Yes, he often told me he felt needed among his allies. He helped lead the rituals.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I only went to two of their meetings and what he did there was pass out the peyote buttons. It was his responsibility alone. I went with him a few times when he drove down to southern New Mexico and Texas to gather the buttons for their rituals.”

  “The peyote is something they take right there in church, right?”

  “Oh yes. The people in both churches—the Native American Church and the Navajo Justice Church—share the belief that the peyote doesn’t work outside the meetings.”

  “Could someone steal some of the peyote buttons and use them later?”

  “I don’t see how. It’s a ritual that usually takes all night. It’s held in a member’s hogan and, as I understand it, they take turns as to whose hogan will be used. The rituals begin at sundown around a ritual fire in the center of the hogan. There is no altar, only crossed spears to represent their will to fight for the Dineh. There are songs at first, and cedar smoke to purify the peyote buttons. Then, during cycles of songs, prayers, and personal contemplation, each member consumes a total of four peyote buttons. In each contemplation cycle, peyote is said to talk to the person, inspiring and instructing them on the ways of dealing with their lives, and the ways of protecting and serving the Dineh against enemies.”

  Ella nodded thoughtfully, figuring that during the peyote phases, it would be impossible for the members to know exactly who had eaten what.

  “It isn’t disorganized or chaotic at all, even as the evening progresses. It’s a very peaceful ritual, and only Navajo adults are allowed to participate. Nobody is alone, you’re sitting next to each other around the fire. There’s not a lot of room—in the hogan I was in, at least. Then everyone goes outside for a feast. That’s when people get more vocal, discussing their revelations and debating while they eat.”

  Ella thought of her brother and how different the Navajo Way he taught was. But The People had always adapted to other cultures. The Peyote Road rituals had reached the tribe in the early 1920s, when Southern Ute medicine men had treated Navajo patients. The cult had taken hold slowly, and now more militant versions were surfacing.

  “After the peyote buttons are gathered, before the rituals, where are they kept?”

  “Under lock and key, literally, at least when my friend was in charge. They don’t want to be accused of distributing drugs to minors or those outside the church.”

  Ella stared across the room, trying to figure out a connection to Angelina. “Did your friend know the senator’s daughter?”

  “I don’t believe so, and I think he would have told me. He liked knowing people he considered important. He was always mentioning his friend, the tribal attorney. He liked knowing someone who was a member of the same clan our tribal president belongs to. He said he could feel their power.”

  There were no obvious connections, yet Angelina had managed to get peyote, and she and Bitah had died on the same day. She had just opened her mouth to speak again when she saw a flash of light playing against the flo
wered blue wallpaper.

  It took her only a moment to interpret it. “We’re being watched,” Ella said, tearing off a sheet of paper from her pocket notebook and writing down a number. “Don’t turn around,” she added immediately. “The person is using binoculars, and that’s what’s sending flashes of reflected light against the wall.” There was also the possibility of a rifle scope, but for some reason she didn’t think that would be the case. The instincts that always warned her of immediate danger were silent now.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I’m going to duck out your back door and see if I can spot the watcher. Use the phone and call the number I’ve jotted down on this paper. Tell the person who answers that I need backup, and give them your address. Then come back to your chair and pretend that you’re still talking to me. I’ll be back.”

  Ella stepped away from the window then ducked out the back door, moving behind the juniper hedge that bordered the trailer. Hiding in the shadows, she crept away, heading toward the mesa across from Judy’s home.

  Ella caught repeated glimpses of the flashing light, and barely managed to make out a figure crouching near the top. Moving quickly and as noiselessly as possible, she climbed the flat-topped hill.

  She had almost reached the top when a cloud of foul-smelling white smoke nearly engulfed her. Ella choked on the acrid fumes and pulled out her handkerchief, trying to cover her mouth and nose. She blinked hard, her eyes burning as if they were on fire. When her sight finally cleared a bit, the ground appeared tilted. Dizzy, Ella stopped, unable to figure out where she was. Every possible step she could take would send her tumbling down a steep incline.

  She remained still, breathing deeply and telling herself it was only a drug-induced illusion. Still, her senses were impaired and she didn’t dare risk a wrong step that would send her toppling off the mesa because she had guessed wrong.

  Ella wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there, when she heard Justine calling out to her from somewhere in the distance.

  “Here.”

  Ella saw Justine coming toward her, as if in a dream. It looked as if she were walking in midair at times.