by Aimée
“Other than being forced off the road, I’m not sure.” Ella gave them the few details she was certain about.
As they reached the lobby, Ella saw Kevin Tolino’s mom and dad waiting. She was about to go over and reassure them when Kevin came out with a cast on his arm. They began talking immediately, and not wanting to interrupt, she waited.
After a few moments, Kevin came over to join her. He greeted Rose warmly, then took Ella aside. “I’m going to head home,” he said. “We can talk more tomorrow. Okay with you?”
“Sure. I’m going to go home with Mom, then I’ll catch a ride or use Mom’s truck to go back to work. I may need to talk to you later.”
He nodded. “Officer Jimmy Frank was questioning me while they were setting my arm. I’ve got to tell you, although I’ve got enemies, I can’t think of a single one violent enough to pull a stunt like this. You better take a long look at the criminals you’ve been chasing. There’s no doubt in my mind that you were the intended target today.”
“That could very well be, but we’ve got to consider all the possibilities.”
“I better get going. I don’t want to keep my parents waiting. I hope you’ll cut yourself some slack and take the rest of the day off, too. You’ve been through enough.”
Ella shook her head. “I’ll be diving into this case right away. Every minute that passes works against my investigation.”
“Is that dedication or obsession?”
His tone was critical, and that surprised her. She was sure his intentions were good, but if Kevin thought that the baby now gave him the right to dictate what she could or couldn’t do, he was sadly mistaken. “I’ll handle things. Just go home, feel better, and let me take care of my business.”
Ella saw the flash of anger on his face just before he turned away. He wasn’t used to having anyone completely disregard his advice.
Rose smiled as Ella joined her. “Be it far from me to criticize you, Daughter, but taking the rest of the day off couldn’t hurt.”
“You heard us?”
“Yes. If he hadn’t wanted me to, he should have whispered softer.”
Ella laughed. Kevin’s voice had been quiet, but he hadn’t counted on Rose’s sharp hearing. Though her mother’s face had taken on wrinkles with age, her hearing was excellent.
Ella noticed Wilson’s near silence as he drove her and Rose home. Something was on his mind, but right now she just didn’t have the energy to try and find out what was bugging him.
“I know the lawyer believes that this accident was caused by an enemy of yours,” Rose said. “Do you have any idea who it might have been?”
“No, but I think my friend was too quick to jump to conclusions. The only thing I’m certain about is that it was deliberate, not an accident.”
“Should the rest of your family be told about this?” Wilson asked, “Or is the threat one you feel sure won’t spill over to them?”
She knew what he was thinking. Skinwalkers were known to have multiple targets—the primary one, and others that could also be used to accomplish their goal. Wilson’s experience with them certainly entitled him to some paranoia. But she had made other enemies who were just plain old criminals. The threat from one of them seemed more likely.
“I really don’t know anything at this point,” Ella said. “But maybe a little caution won’t be a bad thing.” She looked at her mother. “Would you consider staying with Loretta during the day?”
“Absolutely not,” Rose said flatly. “I can take care of myself. I may have to use a cane, but my senses are sharp. If anyone comes by, I can call you or your brother for help.”
“You know that it takes time for our police to respond, even if we drop everything and race over. And my brother is often away with a patient. Just for a few days, won’t you stay with a friend while I’m not home?”
“No. I won’t be run out of my home. It didn’t work on me in the past, and it won’t work now.”
Ella sighed. She hadn’t expected any other response, but it was still worrisome. “I’ll see if I can increase the patrols around home. And, if you see anyone or anything that doesn’t seem right, don’t wait. Call in, okay?”
Wilson glanced over at Ella. “I can stay for the rest of today, if you’d like,” he offered.
“That’s not necessary. I’m not so old that I need a baby-sitter,” Rose said sharply.
Wilson glanced at Ella, cringing slightly.
Ella made a helpless gesture. “You heard her.”
A half hour later, Ella sat in the kitchen with her mother. She’d showered and changed, and although she now felt the bruises even more than she had before, she was ready to tackle the rest of the day.
“Well, things certainly have to get better from this point on,” she said sipping a glass of cold milk.
“Your life will get even more complicated as time goes on,” Rose mused, “not less.”
Ella sighed. “By the way, did Wilson seem a little edgy to you on the way back from the hospital?”
Rose nodded. “But it was to be expected. He overheard the doctor mention to the nurse that you were pregnant.”
Ella closed her eyes, then opened them again. Trying to keep a secret on the reservation was hopeless. She wondered why she’d ever thought she’d be able to pull it off. “I’ll have to talk to him later.”
“This is just the beginning of how it’ll be, Daughter. Your love for your work and the love you feel for your baby will always tear you in two different directions. One day you’ll find yourself coming apart, and it won’t be at a seam.”
“My baby will have all the love I can give her, but I can’t stop being who and what I am.”
“Discovering that you’re going to have a child must have taken you by surprise. Are you sure you’re prepared for what’s to come?”
“No, I’m not prepared. I didn’t expect this. But now that it’s here, there’s no turning back. And, you know what? I wouldn’t want to. I want to be a mom.”
Rose smiled. “It’s not all sunshine and clover. Some daughters are difficult,” she said.
Ella laughed. “Gee, I wonder who you mean?” She finished the last of the milk, then stood. “I’m going back to work. Is there anything you need from me before I go?”
“Not a thing. Just be careful.”
Ella drove off in her mother’s truck and, on her way to the station, called Justine. “Anything new turn up on any of our pending cases?”
“We tracked down the van that ran you off the road. Sergeant Neskahi learned that it had been stolen earlier today. Then one of our cruisers found it abandoned about three miles from the site of your accident, partially stripped. We have it in impound now.”
Ella muttered a soft curse. “Fingerprints?”
“We’re going to focus on that next. The sergeant is there now, and I’m on the way.”
“When you’re done, check into the criminal cases Tolino’s involved with and see if there’s anyone who might be out gunning for him,” Ella said. “Then ask for his cooperation on his civil cases.”
“I’ll take care of it.
“Did you get a chance to bring in any of the people involved with the livestock killings?”
“Joseph Neskahi worked on Nancy, and I took Mary Lou and Norma Sells. I think we rattled them a bit, but not enough to make a difference. We didn’t get anything useful out of any of them, and nobody changed their stories.”
“Keep on it.”
“10–4.”
Ella was nearly to the station when she saw thick black smoke billowing from the Sells Feed Store storage barn. Ella called it in as she pulled off the road to see if she could help. Norma Sells was fighting the blaze in the sheet-metal building with a handful of Navajos who’d come to help, but it didn’t take a professional to see that it was already too late. Even if the fire department arrived right now, the supplies inside were doomed. What they had to do now was keep the flames from spreading to the wood-framed store not twenty feet aw
ay.
As Ella jumped out of her vehicle, Norma handed the garden hose she was using to another woman, then jogged over to her. “I hope the police will finally do something now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I gave Officer Goodluck a written statement. I told her to go arrest Nancy Bitsillie, that she was the one who killed Mary Lou’s goat, but she said they couldn’t without a witness or proof. Then my barn was trashed, and I had to throw out half my feed. Later on, after someone spread our premium goat feed all over Nancy’s corrals so that her goats ate it instead of the traditional forage and hay, she came here and accused me of a lot of things. She’s crazy, I’m telling you. Just plain crazy.”
“So, you think Nancy was the one who made the mess in here before, with the manure and all, then came back and set this fire?”
“Who else? I’m telling you, she lost it when Mary Lou’s goat won. She’s one of those traditionalists who thinks anything modern is evil and should be destroyed. That doesn’t seem to keep her from driving a pickup, though.”
“I’ll check out everyone’s story, but first, what can I do to help here and now?”
Norma shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll just have to let the fire burn out. We’ll just keep wetting down my store so the fire won’t spread. But you can throw Nancy’s butt in jail. At least I’ll know she can’t get at me again.”
Ella called in her report, then drove directly to Nancy Bitsillie’s home, which was down near the bosque east of the river. The trailer house with a roofed over porch wasn’t quite the hogan the usual traditionalist might have, but as was typical, they’d constructed a six-sided log and mud ceremonial hogan in the back. Ella saw Nancy and her two brothers standing on the porch as she parked and walked up.
Nancy stepped off the porch as Ella came up. “That crazy woman is blaming me for the mess in her feed store, isn’t she?”
“Someone set a fire there a short while ago. I think you’ll agree that things are getting out of hand. I’d like to ask you a few questions and maybe together we can figure out what’s going on,” Ella said, keeping her tone nonconfrontational. She wanted Nancy’s cooperation, not another battle.
Nancy glared at her. “I knew you’d side with her though. You come from a family of traditionalists and you should know better. Your problem is that you spent too much time on the outside and it corrupted you.”
“My sister was here all day yesterday,” Wilbur called from the porch. “She’s not guilty of anything. If anything new has happened, it still couldn’t be her. All three of us were stacking hay until just an hour ago.”
Ella saw the anger in the pair’s eyes as they came closer. There was more going on than anger over a goat being killed. Things had escalated way beyond that, and she wasn’t sure how to stop it now. “Who do you think ruined all the grain and hay at the Sells Feed Store?” Ella pressed.
“You’d like to blame the traditionalists for everything, wouldn’t you?” Nancy said.
“I just want everybody to stop losing their tempers. Nobody needs this kind of tension here. We have to stand together, not split ourselves apart.”
“As it always is with those who’ve abandoned our ways, you talk out of both sides of your mouth. Maybe you should listen more to your brother instead of turning against him and arresting him. He knows who he is.”
“I have not turned against my brother,” Ella said, her anger spilling to the surface. Realizing what was happening, she stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m not getting into this with you.” She met Nancy’s gaze. “Where were you during the past hour?”
“I told you—” Wilbur began.
Ella gave him a sharp look. “I want her answer, not yours. When I want to hear from you, I’ll ask you the question.”
He glowered at her but remained silent.
“I was here, making some mutton stew after putting away the hay, just like my brother said,” she answered, her voice taut. “Now unless you plan to arrest me, please leave.”
Nancy stepped back into the trailer house, leaving Ella standing there with the two brothers.
Ella gave them a curt nod, then went back to her vehicle. As she passed by their pickup, she reached out and felt the hood. It was cool and no noise ticked from a cooling engine. If they had set the fire, they hadn’t used this truck as transportation.
Ella climbed into her SUV, thinking about what had just transpired. Nancy’s words had cut deep. She and Clifford were being seen as each other’s enemies, though it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yet, because of the legacy, she knew that everyone would be watching them carefully now to see what would happen between the two of them next. The prospect made her uneasy.
She arrived at the station fifteen minutes later and Sheriff Taylor came out the side door.
“I was here looking for you, and heard about the truck accident.” he said, coming up to her. “I didn’t think you’d be back to work so quickly.”
“There’s a lot to be done,” she said simply, and saw the look of recognition on his face. A kindred soul—she was sure he knew exactly how she felt about her work because he was the same way. “What brings you here?”
“I think I’ve spoken to all the LabKote employees that live off the reservation except for Walter Morgan, and you’ve done that. I’ve also interviewed the two Anglo supervisors who live in my jurisdiction. Their stories are almost identical—word-for-word identical.”
“So it looks like they’ve had time to rehearse.”
“Yeah, which doesn’t exactly make me trust them. But I’ve got nothing really new, either. I also spoke to the two Navajo workers who live off the Rez, but their stories are vague. About the only thing they seem to have noted about Hansen was that he was very depressed when his ex-wife refused to reconcile with him. One of the women thought he was really sweet and very much in love, though the other one called him ‘pathetic.’ She said that he was always whining about his wife.”
“That makes a case for suicide,” Ella said. “But why do it in the parking lot at LabKote? And if someone helped him off himself, they’re guilty of murder themselves.”
“I don’t buy the whole suicide angle. I got the impression he still hadn’t given up on the idea that he’d eventually win her back.”
“Let’s continue to look into it and see what other people have to say. Who’s next on the list?” Ella asked.
“There’s Leonard Bidtah and his wife Bertha. Also Wilma Francisco. They worked the same shift as Hansen. The rest of the employees, according to one of the supervisors, wouldn’t have seen much of Hansen except coming or going, since his work kept him isolated.”
“I know the Bidtah’s. They don’t live too far from here. We can go there now. Wilma may be more of a problem. She lives with her parents and they’re traditionalists. But let’s take it a step at a time.”
Ella drove the sheriff in her tribal vehicle, leaving her mother’s truck at the station. As they reached a residential section of the Rez and she saw Taylor looking around, she tried to see things through his eyes. The beige, cookie-cutter modular homes weren’t stacked next to each other as she’d seen in other housing projects, but there was a lot of clutter in several of the front yards.
Old vehicle carcasses left to die where they’d stopped were now children’s playhouses and targets for stones. Dogs and kids played in the midst of poverty, oblivious to their status as they ran up and down the streets. To her, it was home, and to the ones living there, it was just life. To an outsider, places like this probably spoke more of hardship and stagnation, and strangers living on the edge of disaster.
“You were in the FBI, Investigator Clah?”
Ella nodded.
“Why didn’t you stay with the bureau?”
In other words why had she chosen to live here, of all places? She could read the question on his face as clearly as she could see his pale blue eyes and weathered features. “You see a never-ending cycle of poverty here, don’t you? I see
that, too, but there’s another side of the Navajo Nation someone who wasn’t raised here probably won’t ever see. That’s why I’m here.”
EIGHT
As they entered another area of mobile homes, Taylor mulled over her words. “You mean intangibles, like your culture? Is that why you returned?”
“It’s more than that. It’s what we call the hózhq. It means all that’s good, orderly, and harmonious. It’s a feeling I find only here, and what makes us one with the land and gives us an identity that’s more than the name Navajo. To be honest, I didn’t always see that myself. It’s one of those things that you don’t miss until you’re no longer around it.”
“It sounds a bit like a cowboy and his boots,” Taylor said, nodding. “I was offered a job back East years back. I packed up all my things and left, intending to start a new life, but it didn’t work out for me. It was pretty enough with the green and all, but I like it out here, with the sagebrush, bare mesas, and dry river beds. My boots, my hat, my horse, and even my pickup truck are a part of me. I couldn’t see trading them in for taxi cab rides and air so thick you can see what you’re breathing in.”
Ella parked in front of a new-looking double-wide mobile home. Trash had accumulated in a pile by the side of the house, ready to be burned, if it didn’t blow away first. A tricycle lay on its side beside a chicken-wire fence that held several hens. An old dog looked up, but didn’t bother to growl or bark as they climbed up the three wooden steps leading to the front door.
“Here it doesn’t matter but, at the Francisco’s, we’ll have to wait in the tribal unit until we’re invited in,” Ella whispered.
As Ella brought her hand back to knock, a middle-aged woman opened the door.
“Ella, I haven’t seen you since last year’s tribal fair in Window Rock. How have you been?”
“Fine, Bertha. Working hard.”
Bertha nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, don’t we all. At least there’s a new place to work here in Shiprock. Leonard and I both have good paying jobs for the first time in years.” She gestured for them to sit. “But tell me, what brings you here?” She looked at Sheriff Taylor. “We don’t get that many bilagáana—white—lawmen on the Rez except for the FBI. What’s going on?”