by Aimée
“The young don’t see the importance of our ways anymore,” Mrs. Pioche said sadly. “But maybe the terrible things that are happening now will help them find their way back.”
“They don’t respect our ways, so they bring on these terrible consequences,” Lena Clani, an elderly woman said. “A long time ago we were told that the Holy People would become angry if we bothered the Sun or the Moon. They were lifted high by Wind and placed in the sky away from man, for a reason. Then men walked on the moon, and the Wind People got angry. We have more windstorms now, and more hurricanes and tornadoes. Still people don’t listen.”
“Our group is here to pass on knowledge, yet few want what we have to give,” Mrs. Pioche complained. “We are the Plant Watchers and we have something important to share, but our young ones don’t value it.”
Ella listened for a long time before finally speaking. “I believe that a new time is coming when the knowledge you’ve protected will find its way to the right ears. But right now, we’re facing danger from many sides. You hold the key to protecting us, though you don’t know it.”
“With our plants?” asked Mrs. Pioche.
“No, with another kind of knowledge, but it’s just as crucial to the tribe. Will you help me stop the violence from escalating?”
“How can we help you?” Lena Clani asked.
“Women are the backbone of our tribe. That’s the way it has always been. We talk, share our knowledge, and make things better for others. To break the cycle of violence I have to trace back certain events. What I need most right now, is the name of the senator’s daughter’s boyfriend.”
“He was married,” Mrs. Pioche said flatly. “That’s why she kept him such a secret, even from her own family.”
“I heard one of the women at the high school’s parents group talking about that,” Lena Clani said. “She won’t talk to the police, I’m sure of that, but maybe I can talk to her for you. Nobody is threatened by a grandmother like me.” She smiled.
Ella grinned. Lena was in her mid seventies, or maybe older. It was hard to tell sometimes, but her eyes were bright and alert. From what her mother had often told her about Lena, the woman still had the energy of a twenty-year-old.
“I’d appreciate the help. If you find it easier, tell my mother and she’ll pass the information on to me.”
“We will help you, but we want something in return,” Lena said.
“All right,” Ella conceded.
“We want you to learn all about our native plants. Open your mind to what we have to teach you.”
Rose nodded. “Yes. The time will come when you will need that knowledge.”
Ella felt a shudder travel up her spine. Her mother wasn’t speaking idly. She could tell that from her tone. “What makes you say that?”
“The knowledge will benefit you,” Rose repeated.
Ella didn’t press. She knew that often her mother’s predictions were based on feelings that were hard to explain. Having trusted her life to such inexplicable certainties many times in the past, Ella agreed. She could begin with her mother instructing her at home about what she grew in her garden. A little at a time was all she had room for in her life.
The women murmured together, obviously pleased by her response, and Rose looked relieved. Finished with the business she’d come to accomplish, Ella said good-bye to the group to return to work.
On her way back to the station, Ella decided it was time to pay Blalock a visit. She called him and arranged a meeting at his main office in Farmington.
Ella arrived at Blalock’s office a short time later. His desk was all but buried beneath stacks of file folders.
“Come in. This is one helluva day. We had more cutbacks at the Bureau. My secretary’s history, and I’m swamped with paperwork. Then again, maybe if I get behind enough, they’ll see she wasn’t a luxury, but a necessity, and let me rehire her. I’ve got a huge territory to cover.”
Ella moved the papers stacked on the chair in front of his desk onto the floor, and sat down. “Have you turned up anything on The Brotherhood?”
“Nothing, and not for lack of trying. I’ve spoken to each and every Anglo at the mine more than once and run full background checks on all of them I could justify it for. The organization undoubtedly exists, but there’s no paper trail to it, and nobody is talking.”
“Well, I’ve got another lead I was hoping you could help me follow up. The newspaper got these photos anonymously,” she said, handing them to him.
Blalock studied the photos. “Does Yellowhair know about this yet?”
“Yeah, he invited the papers to conduct a complete investigation. It’s either a bluff, or he knows they’ll find nothing but smoke.”
“Any prints on the photos?”
“Justine’s checking the original set. These are duplicates the paper gave me.”
Blalock pulled a magnifying glass from his top drawer and studied details. “What’s this little blob on the guy’s lapel? The one in the wheelchair.”
Ella took the magnifying glass from him. “Good eyes,” she said. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what it could be.”
“We may be able to blow up the print and get a clearer look.”
“We’d have a larger view of it, but not necessarily clearer,” she pointed out.
“It’s worth a try. The images can be computer-enhanced to bring out details. There’s a man in town who helps me with this sort of thing. He’s as good as the FBI techs.”
Ella rode with Blalock. It wasn’t long before he parked in front of a large, Pueblo-style home just above the community college.
“This is it,” Blalock announced.
Ella read the sign: JEFF RIVERS, PHOTOS FOR A LIFETIME OF MEMORIES. An arrow pointed to a windowless cottage at the back of the main house. Ella accompanied Blalock down the path.
A tall, brown-haired man with thick, tortoise-shell glasses looked up as they came into the small business office and display area. Architectural studies of businesses and homes filled one wall, another held landscapes from around the Southwest. Wooden shelves filled with photography books, cameras, and office supplies lined the third wall, framing a door.
Blalock explained what they needed and Ella noted the unmistakable eagerness on Rivers’s face.
“I do love a challenge,” he said. “Sit down. It won’t take me too long.”
Ella looked around the tiny office as the man disappeared through the far door into a back room. “He doesn’t do a lot of commercial work, does he?” There were no family portraits or the usual school and yearbook gallery of shots that highlighted the walls of most area photo studios.
“He does work for Architectural Quarterly and for Vistas Magazine, as well as several other top-notch publications like those, but he doesn’t have the personality or patience to attract the general public.”
Jeff came out a short time later, and waved at them to come into what Ella had expected to be a darkroom. Instead, she found herself in a well-lighted workshop equipped with an expensive-looking computer, scanner, and several types of printers.
“I have a traditional darkroom, too, but photography is becoming highly technical nowadays, and a lot of advanced work is done with image processing on computers. This particular job is a perfect example of that. I scanned the photo, then ran the image through a program that brings out the details by stepping up the contrast in areas I select. Here’s what I was able to come up with.”
Jeff called her attention to a high quality image just coming out of a laser printer. “This is the best I could do, zeroing in on that pin.”
Ella studied the shape. It reminded her of something, but she wasn’t sure what.
Blalock stared at it for a long time, as if trying to force a memory.
“You guys don’t recognize it, do you?” Jeff asked with a chuckle. “It’s a service pin from a veterans group, guys. Jeez!” He walked to the outer office and returned with a small wooden box. “See?” He pulled a small lapel pin out.
“This one belonged to my dad. I didn’t get a lot from him after he died, but I did get this.” He held it in his palm like it was the Hope diamond.
Ella looked at the pin, then back to the laser image. “Yes, the outline is the same, and the details seem to match up.”
“That’s what it is. I’m sure of it.”
“Do you recognize the man in the photo?” Ella asked.
“No, but I don’t belong to that organization myself.”
After squaring the bill, Blalock and Ella returned to his car. Ella noticed Blalock’s mood had darkened. “What’s eating you?”
“That particular veteran’s organization is highly respected, especially in this community. This doesn’t look like a cover-up at all to me. In fact, I think the senator may be setting us all up to look like idiots.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling myself.”
“You drive while I make a few calls, and see if I can get the address of their treasurer.”
By the time they reached the end of the street, Blalock had what he needed. He had Ella drive directly to a small office building off Main Street. Before they went inside, he said, “Let me take the lead here.”
“Why? You think you’re more diplomatic?”
“I have jurisdiction, and in here we go by the book. The last thing I need is for a national organization like this one to file a complaint against me.”
They found the treasurer, Henry Daniels, inside a small, two-room office. The sign at the front announced him as a CPA.
As they went inside and Blalock introduced himself and Ella, Daniels moved his wheelchair out from behind the desk and after a firm handshake, gestured for them to take a seat. “What can I do for you two officers?”
Ella looked at Blalock. Unless she missed her guess, this was the man in the photo.
Blalock passed the photo to him. “We’re here on official business. What can you tell me about this?”
The man looked at the photo curiously. “What do you want to know? It was taken at our political rally last month.”
“Rally?”
“We had a fund-raiser for the senator. He’s been an absolute dynamo at the state legislature, lobbying for veterans’ rights. We hosted a pancake breakfast fund-raiser for him, strictly working men and women at ten dollars a plate. That money came from the people who attended, and I had the honor of presenting it to him.”
Daniels looked at her. “Is the tribe investigating this contribution? I assure you, I can get dozens of vets who’ll be willing to testify that everything done there was above board and perfectly legal. We even advertised on the radio.”
“I don’t doubt your word, Mr. Daniels,” Ella assured the man, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry for the bother, but we had to look into it. You see, someone sent copies of these photos to the tribal newspaper with the implication that something illegal was going on.”
“Someone’s obviously trying to make the senator look bad. This is an election year. I guess that explains why a reporter from the tribal paper called earlier and made an appointment to come see me.”
At least they’d beaten the reporters to the answer, despite the fact that a newspaper employee had apparently managed to identify Daniels. “Thanks for your time.”
“No problem, always glad to cooperate with law enforcement officers. Our organization thinks very highly of Senator Yellowhair. He’s done a lot for us. He understands the nation owes its vets something for what they went through to protect our freedom.”
Ella walked out with Blalock. “Senator Yellowhair engineered this; I’d bet the farm on it. Now, the next article that comes out about him will be nothing less than a glowing testimonial about how beloved he is.”
After Blalock dropped her off by her Jeep, Ella thought about the photos a bit longer. It was amazing what photographs could do for an investigation. They could lead to answers, or lead down a false trail. Her thoughts drifted and circled. She was missing something. She could feel it. Slowly, a memory came unbidden into her thoughts.
Anderson had albums of snapshots taken at work, mostly of Navajo men, probably so he and The Brotherhood could identify “the enemy.” She was trying to identify someone, too: Angelina’s boyfriend. Furthermore, Angelina had been in the area near the mine when her car ran off the road. What if Angelina’s boyfriend worked at the mine, and she had met him near there?
Ella picked up the phone and called Blalock. With the Bureau’s juice, she could get a photo of every Navajo who’d ever punched a time clock at the power plant or mine in no time at all. With a full set to choose from, maybe the waitress at the country western bar would be able to ID Angelina’s boyfriend.
When Ella arrived back at the station, Justine hurried to meet her. “I got the personnel file on the driver, Joe Bragg. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. Everything checks.”
Ella explained quickly about Blalock’s efforts to get all available photos of the miners, then dropped down into her seat. “Any luck getting a court order for Angelina’s bank records?”
“It’s already been executed. Judge Goodluck is my grandfather,” she smiled. “And I know for a fact he really dislikes Senator Yellowhair.”
Ella smiled. “I knew you two were related, but I’ve never wanted to ask you to cut corners and go to him. Did we get a break?”
“Nothing more than we already knew.” Justine grew somber. “Angelina’s trust fund includes ownership of a company that has a lot of shares in the coal mine. Oh, and before I forget, you also had a call from Dr. Roanhorse.”
“What’s going on with her?” Ella asked.
“She’s at your house right now, and said for you to call.”
“Thanks.” Ella picked up the telephone and dialed home. Her mother answered and handed the phone to Carolyn. “What’s up?” Ella asked.
“I found a trailer in Farmington. They’ll be setting it up next to where my old trailer stood. It’ll be a fine home.”
“I think it might be a bad idea right now for you to move anywhere that isolated. If you need to keep busy, focus on getting yourself a lawyer and forcing the hospital to reinstate you, rather than moving.”
“I tried that,” Carolyn answered, her voice suddenly weary. “But the tribal attorney I saw seems to be afraid of me, or maybe of our esteemed senator. I’m not sure which.”
“Call Kevin Tolino. If I’m any judge of character, that guy won’t back away. If anything, he’ll thrive on the fight.”
“I’ll look into it,” Carolyn said. “Your brother just came in. He wants to talk to you.”
Clifford took the receiver from Carolyn. “Loretta and Julian are fine. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Great! I’m really relieved to hear that! Would you mind if I stopped by your place and spoke to Loretta?”
“You can try, but she’s still pretty angry. She thinks we all should have avoided the inoculation clinic.”
Justine watched Ella, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “You think Loretta might know something?”
“I don’t know, but she can be very observant. She thrives on details. You coming?”
“Sure.”
Ella drove quickly, spurred by a feeling that she was finally getting close to some answers. “If we could only close one of these cases, I’d feel one hundred percent better. Of course, indications are that once we solve one, the others will break wide open, too.”
“Do you think Senator Yellowhair is behind what’s happening to Carolyn Roanhorse?” Justine asked.
“Not directly, no, but he’s got his mitts in this somehow, I’ll wager.” Ella downshifted as they cut across country.
“Even Bitah’s murder?”
“That I’m not so sure about, but who knows? If nothing else, I know the senator’s holding back on us. When I can prove that, I’m going to come down on him like a ton of bricks, and see what shakes loose.”
Thirty minutes later, Ella pulled up in front of her brother’s home. Loretta was out front
planting seeds in a redwood box.
“I’m glad to see that you’re okay again,” Ella said.
Loretta gave her a cold stare. “We wouldn’t have been sick at all if we had stayed away from that blasted clinic. I trusted your judgment and look what it got me and my son!”
“How can you be sure your illness was connected to the clinic? You certainly didn’t accept any medications from the medical staff, did you?”
“Of course not,” she huffed.
“Then why are you convinced your illness started there? Did you or Julian eat anything while you were there?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Then your accusation doesn’t make sense. There couldn’t have been anything contagious going around there, or more cases would have popped up.”
“You’re just defending your friend, the doctor.”
“No, that’s not true. I’m asking you to use your head.”
Loretta stood up abruptly. “That’s your problem. You’re always analyzing! I don’t know how or why we got sick, but we did, and it was awful. Poor Julian couldn’t even keep juice down.”
“So you caught a bug,” Ella prodded, knowing she was incensing her sister-in-law, but also figuring that Loretta would try to justify her beliefs and perhaps then she’d get some information.
“You can be the most irritating person in the world. You know darned well my son and I are always healthy.”
“Chance, then,” Ella said with a shrug.
“Those medical people are around all kinds of sick people and are exposed to things they could easily pass on to someone else. And they’re always so cold and impersonal! Well, all except that young man, Howard Lee. At least he acts human when he’s dealing with The People.”
Ella felt her heart start pounding. “The man is barely competent, and Carolyn says he’s irresponsible.” Ella suddenly remembered that Lee also worked as a medic at the mine, and felt a sudden chill.
“That woman is the cause of half her own problems. That assistant of hers was the best of the lot. He was trying hard to be nice. He took the time to talk to people, instead of treating them like sheep being dipped for insects. He even gave pieces of candy to some of the kids so they wouldn’t be scared.”
