by Aimée
As Justine pulled out and headed down the road to Senator Yellowhair’s home, Ella went up to Harry Ute. “I want you in on this investigation full time. I’m going to need more manpower in my unit.”
“Done,” he said, as he carefully continued to study the area for anything—hair, clothing fiber, or footprints that might have been left during the incident. “What would you like me to focus on?”
“Dig as hard as you can and compile a list of Yellowhair’s enemies, political and otherwise. Go beneath the surface and get all the details you can.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Seeing Blalock’s sedan pulling up, Ella went to meet him. She filled him in quickly as they walked over to the victim’s car.
“It looks like you’ve got some built-in suspects already,” he said after he’d read the ransom note. “But I’ve got to tell you, in this case, that’s just going to mean major-league trouble. If this is the work of the Fierce Ones, that group has a lot of support and sympathy in this corner of the Rez, despite their violent tactics. Investigating individuals within that group is going to be next to impossible. They’ll cover for each other.”
“Are you saying that you think it’s a hopeless cause?”
He shrugged. “The fact is, the bureau has never done well against individuals or groups that have wide-spread support in the community. We still have a few fugitives running around in the wilderness back East because local sympathizers make sure they get whatever supplies they need.”
“I’m aware of that, but it’s not the same situation here.”
“Are you trying to tell me that the Fierce Ones don’t have an enormous amount of clout?” Blalock gave her a skeptical look.
“No, I’m not saying that at all. I know better. What I’m saying is that there’s a possibility they’re being framed. These clues are pointing directly to them. Something about it stinks. None of these guys are stupid.”
The federal agent considered what she said for a long time before speaking. “You may be too close to this case, Clah.”
His words shouldn’t have surprised her. Clifford’s association with that group was going to haunt her on this. “I’m just looking at how things have been laid out and following my gut instincts. This has nothing to do with a conflict of interest.”
“Okay. How do you want to handle things?”
“First, I’ll make a stop by the tribal paper. I’ll fill in Lulu—that’s in exchange for a bit of cooperation the paper’s given us. With luck, now that they’ve had a chance to think about it, they’ll remember something extra about the caller.”
“Are you considering complying with the kidnappers’ demands and giving the paper that list of Anglos working on the reservation?”
“No way. We couldn’t get every name anyway, there are too many legal roadblocks to overcome. But we’ve got to look as if we’re willing to bargain, and we’re going to need the paper’s continued cooperation to do that convincingly.”
“My advice is to make a big show out of considering their demands and trying to meet them. Have Chief Atcitty contact tribal leaders and get them to hold meetings on the issues. Then, in a week or so, have the paper report that they’re working on the list the kidnappers wanted, but they have to find a way to avoid legal repercussions before printing it.” He paused, then added, “The operative word is stall.”
Ella led the way back to her vehicle. “You want to ride with me or the other way around? It doesn’t really matter at the paper, but it may be a plus at the Yellowhairs’ if we arrive together.”
“Will your unit be safe here?”
“I can arrange for one of our people to drive the Jeep back to the station.”
Blalock considered it for a moment, then nodded. “That’s probably the best thing all the way around.”
Ella handed the keys to Tache and asked him to drive her Jeep back, then they got underway. They rode in silence, Blalock staring at the passing desert, lost in his own thoughts.
“Are you still looking forward to retirement, Dwayne?”
“Oh, sure,” Blalock smiled. “I’ve got four more years, but when you add up all the time I’ve already been with the bureau, it doesn’t seem so long.”
“Won’t having all that time on your hands drive you crazy?”
“Funny you should say that. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately myself. Originally, I’d thought of retirement as something that would open new doors for me. I’d intended on starting a new career, maybe private investigation or security consulting. A lot of ex-agents do that.”
“Do I hear a ‘but’ in there someplace?”
“Well, it’s dawned on me recently that I’ll be in my mid-fifties, and I probably won’t want to start a new career at that stage in my life. Opening my own business would take a lot of hard work, and risk my savings.”
“You could work for an existing firm.” Ella suggested.
“Yeah, but I’m used to working on my own out here. As a resident agent I have a certain amount of autonomy. I haven’t punched the clock in a long time.”
“I hear you,” Ella said. “So, what you’re really wondering is if you should stay in, even after you reach the magic number.”
“Yeah,” he nodded at last. “Pretty stupid, huh? I spent the last ten years looking forward to retirement, and now I don’t think I want it nearly as badly as I used to.”
“That’s the way life is. Just when you think you have everything figured out, something new comes along to change your outlook.”
“Leaving the bureau worked out really well for you, didn’t it? You ended up with a good job close to your home, where you can call most of your own shots.”
“I knew I was needed here, even if no one else was aware of it at the time,” she added with a tiny smile. “But I didn’t have as many years in the bureau as you do, either. The change was easier for me on a number of counts.”
Once again silence stretched out between them. Ella’s gaze drifted to the towering line of weathered peaks that stretched out in the western horizon, making it look as if they were moving into a wall of stone. The wind had risen now, and the whistling of the air rushing past the car rose to a crescendo, then settled quickly to a dull hum, only to rise again.
As they pulled in to the office of the tribal paper, clustered among other tribal offices in the red-orange sandstone hills around Window Rock, she felt Blalock tense up.
“What’s up? You allergic to the press all of a sudden?” She teased.
“Something like that. For what it’s worth, Ella, I wouldn’t trust any of them to keep a story under wraps for long, especially if they think a rival reporter is about to scoop them.”
“I’ve learned the hard way, when my mother was hit by the drunk driver, who to trust at this newspaper. I’ll talk to the editor-in-chief. She and I go back quite a ways. She won’t endanger anyone by printing a list like that but, you’re right, news is news, and I can’t expect them to sit on the rest of it forever. The way I figure it, I’ve got one bargaining chip. I can offer them a chance to get the full story first, after the case is wrapped up, and selected bits and pieces in the interim in exchange for their continued cooperation. I think they’ll go for it.”
As Blalock and Ella walked inside the newspaper office, she could feel the tension in the room. People stopped working for a second as they noticed two law enforcement officers had just entered. They knew a story was brewing and the excitement was akin to that at the police station before a big bust.
Lulu hurried out from her office at the back to meet Ella. “I’ve been waiting for you. You promised to let me know what was in the note.” Lulu nodded in greeting to Blalock, who simply nodded back.
“Can you get Jaime? We need to have a meeting,” Ella said.
Lulu hesitated a second, obviously not wanting to take second place, but then agreed and led Ella and Agent Blalock into her editor-in-chief’s office. After making sure everyone had chairs, the reporter defe
rred to Jaime’s position.
Jaime was Ella’s age, but at least twenty pounds heavier and a foot shorter. She was dressed in what some jokingly referred to as Reservation Chic—a checkered flannel shirt and jeans. Her expression was guarded as she acknowledged Blalock with a nod and then focused her attention on Ella. “I understand you made a deal with Lulu. She gave you information and now it’s your turn to reciprocate.”
“And that’s why I’m here,” Ella said, giving them the details of the letter. “You can print everything except for an actual list, which you probably know we can’t provide anyway. Are we in agreement on that?”
Jaime toyed with the silver and turquoise ring she wore on her right hand. “When we don’t publish a list, how will that affect the welfare of Senator Yellowhair?”
“What you have to ask yourself, is how it will affect the lives of the people whose names you did print,” Blalock said. “Also, what about the jobs of those here at the newspaper if the Anglos listed decided to file suit against the tribe?”
Jaime mulled it over. “You realize that they’re bound to know some of the names already, like the new preacher at the Christian church, and the university students who are interning at the hospital. They’re all pretty much high profile.”
“True, but there are many, many others in New Mexico and Arizona. Look at it this way, Jaime. History has shown us what can happen when we start making lists based on race or religion. So work with us, and buy us some time.”
After a long, silent pause, Jaime nodded. “All right. The paper has a responsibility, too. We can’t ignore that. But I want you to honor your bargain with us.” Her gaze shifted to Blalock. “And it’ll be binding on you, too. Are we in agreement?”
“Totally,” Blalock replied, then turned to Lulu. “By the way, did you recall anything about your caller that may help us out? Have there been any more calls or contacts?”
Lulu shook her head. “Just what you already know.”
“Do you have any clues or suspects other than the obvious?” Jaime added.
“Not really, it’s just too soon. But we’ve got an interagency team working on the case. We’ll turn up something soon. It’s a top-priority case.” Ella said.
By the time Ella and Blalock left the newspaper office, the FBI agent was visibly restless. “You know, I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this case,” he said. “The more I think about that note, the more convinced I get that we are being jerked around. A first grader could figure out who the kidnappers are supposed to be just on the basis of that note and current events. So, that means that there’s got to be a reason why the Fierce Ones aren’t taking credit for it openly. If they know people will assume it’s them, why not go the rest of the way and admit it? And if they weren’t prepared to do that, why pursue an action like this that’ll point directly to them? They’ve got to know that because of the circumstantial evidence, we’re going to be all over them, whether they take credit for the kidnapping or not. It doesn’t really add up right.”
“I agree,” Ella said.
Blalock continued. “Is there anything else going on that could tie into this kidnapping? I read about the protest at the tribal offices and know that Yellowhair got the Fierce Ones ticked off when he crossed their picket line, though apparently he did have a family emergency. By any chance did he make any other enemies that day?”
“Not that I know of, so I guess that leads us back to the Fierce Ones again. I’ll be talking to my brother soon, and maybe he can give us a lead we can follow up on.”
“Would he tell you if he knew his own group was responsible for this?”
“Probably not directly, but Clifford isn’t a good liar, at least around me or my mother. Both of us can tell when he’s holding back.”
As they headed east toward Highway 666, which would, in turn, lead to the senator’s home, she remembered the last few times she’d visited the Yellowhair family. It had been after his daughter’s death in an auto accident, and the situation had been tense and grief filled. Now she’d have to face Abigail Yellowhair with more bad news. She would have given anything to avoid this, but she had a job to do.
They’d been traveling for forty minutes when Blalock broke the silence. “Why is everything so far from everything else out here?” he muttered. “It gives a person too much time to mull things over.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“Not for law enforcement, but it is when you think of the criminals. Too much time for them to plan, you know?”
Passing the kidnapping site again, they headed down the long, gravel road that would eventually take them to Yellowhair’s home. As they left the highway behind them, Ella felt that peculiar tingling feeling that always warned her when something wasn’t right. She tried to pinpoint what was wrong, searching around her from left to right, and in the side mirror.
Picking up her nonverbal cues, Blalock loosened his seat belt, and threw back his jacket, insuring he had easy access to his pistol. “Should I speed up or slow down. You’re on to something, I can tell. What did you see?”
“Nothing, but something’s not right. Can’t you feel it?”
“My gut instincts have been out of sync from the first day I came to the Rez.” He looked around on his side of the car, alert for trouble.
Ella spotted the remains of a dead sheep near the side of the road. “There should have been a predator or two near that—or birds, if nothing else. But the carcass is just sitting there for the flies and bugs.”
“Maybe another car passed by recently and spooked them.”
“The road’s pretty straight. I don’t see anything in either direction, do you?”
“No,” he answered his voice taut.
Ella could see dwellings ahead, and several cars parked beside them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The senator’s house was off by itself in the distance, on a parcel of land the tribe had provided for his use. When he’d become a state senator he’d hired his brother-in-law to renovate his old house, and now it was an impressively large stucco building with a red tile, pitched roof. It was a display of wealth that always left a bad taste in Ella’s mouth.
Ella considered the possibility that her anxiety was just a reflection of her dislike for Yellowhair. He’d always been bad news as far as she was concerned. But it was more than that, and she knew it. The badger fetish she wore at her neck for protection felt warm against her skin. The logical explanation was that it probably was no warmer than usual, but since she was always more aware of it in times of trouble, it seemed that way. Yet, no matter how she rationalized it, the fact remained that the fetish had always been an accurate warning sign. To discount it now would be foolish.
They were less than a mile from the senator’s house when she saw movement and a flicker of light from atop a rock on the mesa to her right. “Sniper, two o’clock!” Ella yelled.
Blalock pulled hard on the wheel just as a bullet cut across the sedan, followed an instant later by another. Ella heard one impact on metal, and another shatter the windshield and rear window almost simultaneously. As the brakes grabbed, the car spun around sideways in the road and came to a stop in a cloud of dust, facing in the direction of the sniper.
Ella dove out the passenger’s door, hearing Blalock do the same on his side. Suddenly another round passed by her so close that she felt a tug of cloth and the sensation of heat against her skin.
For a moment she thought she’d been shot, but as she hit the ground and rolled into the drainage ditch, she was aware that she wasn’t in any pain.
Pistol out, she took a defensive position behind a low ridge of road grader-formed sand. She heard Blalock, now behind the car, making a call for backup on his handheld. As she looked down at her arm, a tremor that started at the base of her spine ran through her. She could see a small hole where a bullet had pierced her jacket and passed through between her arm and her side.
“You hit, Ella?” Blalock said. “Say something, for God’s sake!”
“No, but he almost got lucky.” She’d had close calls before, but it was different now that she was carrying a child, and she was almost sick to her stomach. She was going to start wearing a vest full time now, no matter how inconsequential or routine her day’s work seemed to be at a glance.
Blalock fired off two shots toward the rocks where the sniper had been hiding, but there was no evidence anyone was there now. Silence descended around them. “I would have had to be lucky as hell to hit that guy. He’s too far away for anything except a rifle and scope.”
“Just in case he’s still around, stay out of sight and don’t give him another shot. Its possible he may have only changed position. We’ll have backup soon, and then we can make our move. Justine is at Yellowhair’s, and should be here any minute now.”
As she finished her sentence, they heard a siren, and saw a vehicle heading their way from the Yellowhair home.
“Cover me.” Ella zig-zagged back to Blalock’s sedan and dove inside. Reaching for the radio mike, she instructed Justine to go straight up the mesa, then yelled for Blalock. “Jump in, Dwayne. We’ll cover her.”
Blalock got back inside the sedan, which was still running, slammed down hard on the accelerator and sped uphill. “The sniper may have missed, but he did deliver his message,” he said, glancing over at the hole in her shirt.
“Yeah, but what exactly was his message?” Ella asked. “Was it a warning not to question Yellowhair’s family, or a warning against looking into the case at all?”
“You’re overanalyzing, Clah. I would have said it was his way of letting us know he wanted us dead.”
She smiled. To the point—that was Blalock’s style. “The one thing I’m sure about is that there’s a connection between the kidnapper and the sniper. Otherwise he wouldn’t have known we’d show up here.”
Before long, several patrol units were involved, and a countywide manhunt was underway. Roadblocks were established, and the entire force was put on alert.