Shooting Chant

by Aimée

  “The next room contains our incinerator,” he said, going to the end of the hall. “All waste material from quality control is turned into harmless ash with the help of a high-temperature furnace.”

  “You mean the bacteria or other microbes that turned up on containers that failed the tests?” Ella asked.

  He nodded. “Finding any that actually got past the gamma rays is a rare event. Most of what’s burned is growth medium, like agar, and the containers we opened up and tested. That’s our operation in a nutshell,” he said with a smile. “You can see now that we don’t have anything to hide. It’s for the public’s sake that we keep such a tight lid on our work. We can’t have people just wandering in or trespassing.”

  Ella was about to thank Morgan when a high-pitched alarm sounded. She jumped, startled by the shrill sound, and braced herself for an emergency, but seeing Morgan take it in stride, she forced herself to relax.

  “Look fast, and you’ll see the gamma ray equipment power down,” he said moving to the corresponding window. “The equipment’s beam is automatically shielded when the large outside doors open, and of course the machines shut down.” He gestured to a team of men in yellow fireman turnout gear. They were moving into the room via one of the garage-style doors, now opening. “That’s our emergency response team. Had there been a fire, they would have put it out. A spill of one of our cleaning solutions, or an electrical short would also be handled and corrected as well. Of course, as I’m sure you realize by now, this is only a drill. We have several a week between processing runs, just to keep our people sharp.”

  It had all looked very practiced and routine, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had been staged for her benefit. What she couldn’t decide was why Morgan had felt compelled to arrange a drill for her. Was it pride, or just a way to get her to go away and not come back?

  They were going back down the hallway toward the front entrance when Ted Landreth came out of his office. “Do you mind stopping by my office when you’re finished?” he asked Ella.

  “I think Mr. Morgan and I are done with the tour,” Ella said, curious to see what Landreth wanted. She looked at Morgan, who nodded.

  “I’ll go log in my report,” Morgan said, leaving.

  Landreth offered her a chair, then sat down behind his desk. “I’m hoping you can help me. I need a way to show the Fierce Ones, and any other concerned group that our company is really very beneficial to the tribe. For example, in exchange for a very favorable lease agreement, we’ve made substantial donations of valuable lab supplies to the high school and college laboratories. The tribal council knows all that, but obviously The People don’t. I think we’re due for another press release. I’ll have our public relations people come up with something.”

  Ella nodded absently, then stood and walked to the opposite wall where several photos had been hung. Several tribal officials were pictured with LabKote supervisors. The photos were filled with men smiling and shaking hands, despite the fact that even casual physical contact with a stranger was something most Navajos preferred to avoid. Morgan wasn’t in any of the photos, but silently she noted that one of the photos showed Senator Yellowhair and Ernest Ben with Landreth.

  “I don’t think the Fierce Ones dispute the good you do for the tribe,” she said, returning to her chair. “They’d just like to see more of our people benefit from the higher paying jobs—like the one Hansen had before his death.”

  “Yeah, I know that, but Hansen had advanced engineering degrees in computer software design and programming. His job requires some highly technical expertise as well as a formal education. Remember that certain additions to our machinery, the safeguards that protect everyone, for instance, were Hansen’s own design. He was an undeniable asset to us. That was the reason we didn’t fire him for insubordination months ago.”

  “Are you saying he’s practically irreplaceable?”

  “Just about, but I’m sure that if we look hard enough, we’ll eventually find someone who can take his place.”

  “Who’s doing his job now?”

  “Carl Fine. He’s one of the supervisors. But all he’s doing is running the production line according to Hansen’s established procedures, which are installed as custom software and written up in a manual. It’s only a temporary arrangement. Carl just doesn’t have the training or expertise that Hansen had.”

  “So, how do you intend to comply with the Fierce Ones’ demand that the position be filled with a Navajo?”

  “I’ll ask tribal employment services for help, and at the same time conduct a regional job search through the universities in Arizona and New Mexico. Maybe we can hire someone qualified who is Navajo. We’ll certainty try. If that doesn’t pan out, perhaps we can get someone to train as a tech and work alongside whoever ends up taking Hansen’s job.”

  She nodded and stood. “If that’s all you had for me…”

  “No, actually, I have a favor to ask you.”

  She stood by the door. “I’m listening.”

  “I understand from Morgan that your brother was out there today with the Fierce Ones.”

  Ella wished she had more background on Morgan. He was good.

  “Can you explain to him that we’ll do our best, but Hansen’s job can’t be filled at the drop of a hat? He might be more inclined to believe you and then spread the word to the others.”

  “You told all this to Jesse Woody already, right?” Seeing him nod, she added, “then it’s been said. It won’t become more true if you tell it more often.”

  He didn’t crack a smile, and neither did she. Ella stood and walked down the hall. She was surprised when Landreth didn’t follow her, since she’d been told that no one was allowed inside unescorted, but before she got ten feet, Morgan came to meet her.

  “Can you come back into my office for a moment before you leave, Investigator Clah? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

  She followed him wordlessly, knowing instinctively that he already knew she’d agree. Curiosity was the founding trait of an investigator.

  Ella entered Morgan’s office and saw him take a sheet of paper from the top of his desk. “Sheriff Taylor had asked us to call him if we found anything that would be of interest to him regarding Hansen’s case, so I did.” He offered her the page. “This is what I faxed him this morning. It’s a printout of a letter we found on a computer disk Hansen hid in the middle of some papers in his bottom drawer. It took us a while to work out his password so we could gain access to the file, but we finally did.”

  “What was the password?” she asked.

  Morgan smiled. “We tried his wife’s name, his name, listed birth dates, and all the regular stuff, but Hansen’s brain didn’t run on regular channels. That’s when I decided to try something more his speed. His password, as it turned out, was ‘gamma.’”

  It was another sign of what kind of person Morgan was. Like her, he would keep working a puzzle until he had answers. Pure and simple, he liked to win. “Good work.”

  She read the letter. It was addressed to his ex-wife. In it, he was pleading for a reconciliation. To Ella, the letter had the sound of a work still in progress, not something he was ready to send.

  “The guy sure was a whiner. No wonder his ex jettisoned him,” Morgan said contemptuously.

  His assessment was so blunt and so much in line with his macho style that she had to smile.

  “What? You think I’m an insensitive clod?”

  “The thought occurred to me,” she said. “But, in all fairness, I don’t much care for anyone who uses this tactic. It’s equal parts guilt and begging.”

  Morgan grinned at her. “Yeah. That’s the way I see it, too.” He handed her the disk. “Here’s where we found the letter. It contains nothing else besides the printout, but I figured you’d want to have it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He returned with her to the gate. “We’re two wolves, aren’t we?” he observed. “We wouldn’t beg, even if they kneecap
ped us.”

  “Begging doesn’t do any good. If you have to, you’ve already lost,” she said as she got back into her vehicle.

  As she drove away, Ella checked in with Justine, giving her the code word that would decode the files.

  “I’ll try that right away,” Justine said.

  “Any other news?”

  “Not yet.”

  A peculiar restlessness gnawed at Ella. She wanted answers, but none seemed forthcoming. As usual, their investigation was becoming an exercise in patience. A phone call to Sheriff Taylor only confirmed what she already knew. After agreeing to keep in touch, Ella disconnected the call.

  She was halfway to the station when she caught a glimpse of an old truck behind her. There were no other vehicles on this stretch of road at the moment, so it was easy to spot.

  She passed two more turnoffs, but the driver stayed with her. If this was a tail, it was such an obvious one that it couldn’t have been a pro in the truck behind her.

  Deciding to check it out, Ella slowed her vehicle down, then drove up a dirt track. There was a canyon ahead that she could use to turn the tables on him.

  The thought that perhaps Big Ed had assigned someone to follow and back her up occurred to her. He’d done it in the past. Ella considered the possibility then discarded it. No cop would have been that sloppy, and they would have signalled her by now.

  The other driver followed her up the dirt track, then slowed down as she disappeared into the canyon. He passed her position cautiously, still searching for her. Ella bided her time, then pulled out behind him. Unfortunately, he was still too far away to ID.

  Spotting her, the driver suddenly tried to turn around, found he couldn’t, then floored the accelerator pedal, heading straight into the desert. The only thing out in the direction he was going was the local landfill.

  Ella stayed in pursuit and called it in on her radio. She didn’t think she’d need backup, and that was just as well since no one would be available for several minutes anyway.

  The beat-up truck in front of her stayed on course, though it was a rough trip, even for a four-wheel drive. They were going forty, but with all the bumps and uneven terrain, it felt as if they were on a wild, uncontrollable, roller-coaster ride.

  As they drew closer to the landfill, the terrain cleared to low, scattered brush. Ella saw the massive bulldozer ahead in a scooped out basin, burying refuse, and pressed down harder on the accelerator. The last thing she wanted was an innocent caught up in this.

  Suddenly, the driver pulled to a stop, leaped out, and disappeared behind a pile of rubble.

  Ella was only seconds away from where his truck was parked, when one shot rang out. Every instinct she’d perfected as a cop told her the story. The bulldozer operator had come face-to-face with his destiny. There was a killer on the loose now and, like predatory animals, they made cunning adversaries when trapped.

  TWELVE

  Ella reached for her shotgun, called in a situation report, and requested an EMT unit. As she left the Jeep, she was careful to stay behind the protection of the engine block. Experience and training took over now, and she knew what she had to do.

  The foul-smelling landfill resembled a large crater, with the bulldozer and several mounds of refuse lining the high earthen rim. Ella waited for an eternity, but everything was still. Even the crows, ever-present residents of the landfill, began to land and resume searching for scraps.

  She crouched, moving forward low to the ground, shifting her vantage point from trash mound to trash mound, then searching for the shooter before moving again. A few birds took flight, but most remained, not seeing her as a threat.

  Directly ahead, about halfway to the bulldozer, she saw a small mountain of discarded furniture. It would do for cover. Ella sprinted toward an upended sofa, expecting to be shot at for the few seconds she was exposed, but nothing happened.

  The cry of the crows, their feeding interrupted, distracted her, but she fought to concentrate on the man who’d brought her here. As Ella moved around to one end of the sofa, she saw a body lying on the ground, bleeding from the chest.

  She drew near cautiously and recognized Rudy Joe, the dozer operator. He’d told her once that he worked out here at the landfill because he liked the outdoors all year round. Who’d have thought that statement would turn out to be his epitaph.

  Ella crawled over to Rudy and felt for a pulse. He was still alive, having been shot in the chest, but well to the side and below the heart, catching a rib. The blood loss, however, was heavy. Maybe it was kinder that he’d passed out. To be aware of what was going on, under these circumstances, would have been torture.

  She remained quiet, but still the shooter remained hidden either behind the dozer or another heap of trash. The rim of the crater was too steep to climb easily at this, the low end of the landfill. Did the man expect to get away if he just didn’t reveal his position? Surely he must have surmised that if he left, he’d have to try it on foot, because to reach his vehicle he’d have to get past her, and that would never happen. The man was connected to one or more of her investigative trails, and she had no intention of letting him escape.

  Ella moved forward again, looking all around her. As she maneuvered closer, the bulldozer’s engine suddenly came to life. With a powerful roar, the machine lurched forward, crushing everything in its way.

  She had to make a quick choice. If she tried to run to either side to flank him, she’d put herself in the open and he’d shoot at her. But if she stayed where she was, she’d be buried under tons of garbage or crushed by the machine’s massive steel blade or steel treads.

  Ella fired off three shotgun blasts in rapid succession, but the buckshot either ricocheted off the blade, or passed over the head of the operator, who was using the blade like armor plate. The bulldozer kept coming at her, and she was forced to give ground. If she couldn’t get to one side soon, he’d trap her with her back to the wall of earth that bordered the pit.

  To survive, she’d have to disable the machine or hit the driver. As she tried to get into a better firing position, she suddenly realized that this had all been a setup. She’d been manipulated into coming out here where she’d be all alone.

  Angry that she’d made such a tactical mistake, Ella grew even more determined to turn the tables on her enemy. She would not die out here. She had a future, and this man would not rob her or her baby of that.

  Hearing the wail of a siren over the sound of the bulldozer, she smiled. She was no longer by herself. A heartbeat later, she saw Officer Philip Cloud up above at the rim of the pit. As the bulldozer bore down on her, Ella gestured for Philip to move to his left. She’d run to the right, and if one of them was quick enough, they’d outflank the driver and get close enough to shoot.

  The driver had seen the police car arrive and slowed the bulldozer, suddenly aware of Philip. When the officer slid down into the crater, the bulldozer quickly turned in its tracks and roared toward him. Philip tried to move laterally to the machine, but the dozer was agile and continued to keep him in its path.

  Ella had wanted to capture the man alive, but now the life of a fellow officer took precedent. With only seconds before the bulldozer trapped Philip, she raced out and took a position behind cover in line with the side of the machine.

  Ella dropped the shotgun and pulled out her pistol. It was more precise and she was better with it. Bracing her hands combat style, she aligned her sights, held her breath, and squeezed off one shot. The man dropped to his right, falling out of the bulldozer onto a pile of rusted out car parts.

  The dozer slowed immediately, ran into the wall of earth that surrounded the landfill, and climbed almost to a forty-five-degree angle before the engine died. It slid back three feet, then stopped.

  Ella swallowed the bitter taste at the back of her throat. Another corpse, another face that would either keep her awake, or haunt her dreams for months.

  While Philip checked on Rudy Joe, she picked up her shotgun, checked
the bore for debris, then moved forward slowly and cautiously, though she knew the man was dead. Few ever survived a bullet behind the ear.

  The first thing she did as she drew near was kick the gun well away from him. Then she crouched down and turned the body face up. She’d expected a Navajo, this was their land after all, but the light-skinned man before her was no one she recognized.

  Philip jogged up and glanced down at the man. “Do you have any idea who he is, and why he did this?”

  “Not a clue.” She reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “There’s a Colorado driver’s license with the name, Thomas LaPoint, but no LabKote ID,” she said, surprised. “I assumed…”

  “There are other Anglos working on the Rez, and other Anglo run businesses,” Philip said. “The highways bring many people through our land.”

  “Yeah, I know, but LabKote was fresh in my mind. I just came from there.”

  “Things are never what they seem to be around here. Have you ever noticed that?” Philip said in a hushed tone, then walked back with Ella to tend to the wounded bulldozer operator.

  * * *

  Rudy Joe was stabilized about ten minutes later and transported to the hospital. While her team processed the scene, Ella stayed with Dr. Roanhorse while she continued her preliminary examination of the body.

  “I’ll do an autopsy and find out if he had any drugs in his system that affected his judgment, or if there was any medical reason for his violent behavior. Suicide by cop seems to be a modern favorite, but, from what I’ve seen here, I doubt that was what he was trying to do. Judging by what you and Officer Cloud told me, he wanted you dead, not himself.”

  “What I can’t figure out is why he set up this one-on-one confrontation. If he wanted me dead, he should have stacked the deck.”

  “Be thankful for his bad judgment.”