by Aimée
Although the demanding pace helped warm her chilled body, she couldn’t stop trembling every time the breeze came up. Focusing away from her discomfort, she kept her mind on the trail. She pushed herself to the limit, but it wasn’t long before she had to admit defeat. Freshly crumbled marks up on the hillside told her that the men had climbed back onto the mesa. It looked like they’d assumed she’d gone for help and decided to cut and run.
Spirits low, she returned to the ambush site, found her handheld radio, and called in a report of the incident. After locating her handgun in a clump of tall grass, she checked the weapon to make sure that it was still loaded, the bore was clear, and the action functioned properly. Then she placed it back in her holster. At least one thing had gone in her favor. The sample vials inside the plastic bag were still in her pocket, and hadn’t come open.
Ella went back to her Jeep, taking a different route in the unlikely event the men were planning a trap for her there. Looking around carefully, she approached the vehicle from behind. The area seemed deserted.
Ella’s clothing had nearly dried off, at least on the surface, but her body wouldn’t stop shaking and the tips of her fingers were numb with cold. Unwilling to take chances, she forced herself to ignore her need for warmth and methodically checked the Jeep for tampering before climbing inside.
Five minutes later, the heater on full blast, she headed for home, which was not only closer than her office, but also held a change of fresh, warm clothes.
* * *
An hour later, Ella sat in her office with Justine, writing her report of the incident. The samples they’d gathered were on their way, and the map was spread out on a table in Justine’s lab, drying.
“I’m glad it was you instead of me, Ella. I’ve never been much of a swimmer—let alone with my clothes on.” Justine sat across from Ella’s desk, folding and unfolding the receipt for the FedEx package that had just gone out.
“It was more a matter of letting the current take me and holding my breath,” Ella admitted.
“You could have been killed, or cut to ribbons by those guys,” Justine said somberly. “We have officers on alert, but other than what they were wearing, we have zip to look for.”
“They were after me, and wanted to put me away for good without making a lot of noise that would carry toward town. What bugs me is that either the perps knew where I was headed, or they were able to follow me and I never saw them.”
“The terrain leading up to the bluffs is wide open. I doubt they could have been too close.” Justine pointed out.
“I wonder if the guard at LabKote tipped someone off to what we were doing, and they were afraid of what I’d find near the water. Or does that sound a bit thin?”
“There were others who knew we’d be in the area,” Justine said. “Remember the gathering at Jesse Woody’s house? That was when you agreed to run the tests.”
“I know, and that group included my brother and Billy Pete.” Ella noticed how Justine cringed when she’d mentioned Billy. “But the Fierce Ones wouldn’t have done this. They would have realized that if anything happened to me down by the river, they would become prime suspects. It’s too obvious.”
“What other suspects do we have? Not the tribal politicians. That isn’t their style,” Justine said. “But, like you, I seriously doubt that the Fierce Ones had anything to do with this. It’s so obvious it smacks more of a frame, or dumb coincidence.”
“There’s another possibility,” Ella said slowly. “Do you think somebody is framing them, instead of the other way around?”
“That could very well be,” Justine answered.
“If we could only figure out why somebody is trying to get me out of the way permanently, I have a feeling our investigative trails would converge and narrow.” Ella wished her so-called legacy was as powerful as some thought and could show her the truth, but no revelations seemed forthcoming.
“Well,” Justine pointed out, “at least the samples we took are on their way for testing, and we’ve been promised a twenty-four-hour turnaround on the preliminary results. Soon we’ll find out if there’s anything out there to worry about.”
Ella looked at the report she’d been working on, trying to remember where she’d left off. Big Ed had asked for paperwork on everything, and oral reports on the kidnapping, and she was already way behind.
“Shorty, time to talk.” Big Ed came into her office. “And you, too, Officer Goodluck. I’d like someone to explain why this department has all of a sudden become the Environmental Protection Agency. I got a strange call from LabKote about your activities and I checked it out. What’s with these soil samples and dead birds you’re sending off to be tested?”
“I’m responsible for the tests,” Ella said. “We’re trying to find out if LabKote, or someone else, has contaminated the fairgrounds area. If there’s something criminal going on there, we need to know fast. The traditionalists are starting to label the place ‘evil.’”
She explained what Clifford had told her about Lilly Mae Atso and her goats, and the effect the fairgrounds seemed to have on those who’d been there at the animal husbandry show. Ella also mentioned Kyle Hansen’s death as a possible related event.
“We need to find a motive for the murder of Kyle Hansen,” Ella said. “As I’ve indicated in my reports, we’ve pretty much concluded that it was no suicide. One possibility, when we look at some of the animal mutations around here and the reports of irrational behavior by those who attended the show, is that an environmental agent is responsible. If Hansen knew about a spill of some kind and threatened to blow the whistle … Well, that sort of thing has happened before though, admittedly, not here.”
“Clifford’s opinions may have validity at some level,” Big Ed agreed. “I’ll reserve further judgment for a while since gathering those samples almost cost you your life down by the river, but be careful what you’re stirring up. What ends up coming to the surface may not be what you expected and surprises can get you killed.”
Big Ed lowered his voice. “In line with your brother’s comments about the evil in the fairgrounds, what about our old enemies, the skinwalkers? They’re dark witches who, by their very nature, thrive on chaos. They’ve marked you for death. Do you suppose the ones who made it out alive after our raid last year are trying to retaliate? Creating trouble at the fairgrounds may just be a side benefit for them.”
“I’d been wondering about that as well, Ella,” Justine said. “Two men tracking you, then attacking with knives sounds like a more traditional approach to murder. Could skinwalkers be on your trail? If so, this may have nothing to do with our current investigations.”
“The attack on me by the river felt more like a military operation than one I would associate with our people. No illusions, no magic or Navajo-sounding words, were used against me—only stealth. And, let me remind you, we still don’t know if the ones after me are Anglo or Navajo.”
“I’ve heard that you and Clifford aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye lately,” Big Ed said.
The chief’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t fool her. He was thinking of the legacy. She could sense it as clearly as she could the breeze coming in through the open window.
“What are you saying—that he was one of the two men?” She shook her head. “You know better than that. He’ll defend himself and others, but he would never attack anyone.”
“Some might say that it’s possible he sees you as a threat to our tribe and acted in its defense.”
Anger twisted through Ella. “My brother would never harm me, and this type of speculation is ridiculous. If you’re going by the legacy, then trust the instincts I’m supposed to have. He is not involved. Besides, I know the way he moves through the brush. I’d never have heard him coming at all.”
Big Ed nodded. “Okay, Shorty. I just wanted to see for myself where you stood on that.”
“Whatever mistakes my brother may have made associating with that vigilante group, he’s no danger to a
ny of us,” Ella said firmly.
“All right. Then let’s stay on track. We have to find Senator Yellowhair and we have to find him alive. I suggest you two concentrate on that, and let this bird pollution thing run its course. Kyle Hansen is already dead, I’m sorry to say, but, hopefully, the same isn’t true for the senator.”
After Big Ed left, Justine gestured to the report she’d left on Ella’s desk. “That’s something you should read right away,” she said, then returned to her office.
Ella studied the report filed by Harry Ute and Justine. After reading about their latest find, she telephoned Blalock immediately.
“My people located a bullet from the sniper attack on us,” Ella said. “Harry got hold of a better metal detector, went back on his own, and found a full-metal-jacketed 30–06 bullet, pretty much intact. It even had a paint scrape that matches your car.”
“Was your lab tech able to get a manufacturer?” Blalock asked.
“Yes, but it won’t be much help. Justine found that the bullet is old U.S. military surplus, and could have come from almost anywhere. She pointed out that rifles have been chambered to that caliber since around 1906, and you know how common they are among hunters around here.” Ella knew her brother and father had both hunted with 30–06 rifles, and she’d fired the weapon as well. They were almost as common as 30–30 Winchesters on the Rez.
“So, we’re going to have to find the weapon actually used against us before we can match the bullet,” Blalock grumbled. “Peachy.”
They discussed the frustrating lack of evidence linking Branch or any other suspects to the kidnapping. “The kidnappers have made no new demands,” Ella said, “but I bet they’re watching the paper to see when the list they want will be printed.”
“They’ll have a long wait. We’ll keep monitoring Mrs. Yellowhair’s phone, and hope somebody decides to call her,” Blalock said. “I’m still interviewing Yellowhair’s contacts and associates but, so far, I’ve got nothing new. Officer Goodluck passed me a tip that Avery Blueeyes is at Navajo Lake, since that’s out of your jurisdiction. But that’s a large area to search and, so far, my people haven’t found him.”
“Something tells me he’s staying low profile on purpose,” Ella said.
“Maybe, but I’ve got to tell you, in my book, the Fierce Ones still look like our best prospects.”
“But it’s just not their style to kidnap someone and stay in the shadows. They prefer a more in-your-face approach.” Ella then told Blalock about the soil and water samples they’d taken, and the subsequent attack on her by the river. “I’m beginning to suspect that someone’s trying hard to frame the Fierce Ones.”
“What other group would have an interest in that? I don’t know of any non-Navajos with that kind of agenda, and there are no other activist groups on the Rez with any substantial amount of power.”
“I know all that, but the Fierce Ones have never taken on a battle where they couldn’t rally local support. Dealing with the youth gangs and graffiti a while back is one example. But kidnapping is something else. It’s hard to justify, even to the most traditional Navajo.”
“Let’s keep digging,” Blalock said at last.
Ten minutes later, Ella dropped a quick update in Big Ed’s mail slot, then left for the parking lot. It had been a long day and it was time to go home.
As Ella drove down the empty, darkened highway, she wondered about the world her child would inherit. She’d wanted her daughter to grow up in the Rez she’d known, safe anywhere at any hour, but those days were long gone. A new era was beginning, and it was in that new Rez her child would have to find her place.
SEPTEMBER 14TH
Ella woke early before her new clock radio went off, and felt a large lump at the foot of her bed. The lump moved, then groaned slightly, settling in another location atop the covers.
“When did you start becoming a foot warmer, Two?” Ella sat up and scratched the long-haired mutt behind the ears. Two moved his head slightly to lick her wrist, then stretched out full length.
“Mom will make you start sleeping outside full time if she finds you’ve been getting on the furniture, boy,” Ella whispered. “Let’s make this our little secret.”
Two looked at her solemnly, then slithered off the bed onto the floor. Shaking loose hair all over the place, the mutt trotted out of the room and into the hall, then laid down on the floor just within her sight.
“You’d rather not keep secrets, right?” Ella said, then sighed. “Neither would I.” Ella stared across the hall at what had once been her brother’s room. She’d have to tell Clifford about her baby soon, but she was worried about how the news would affect him. Would he be pleased, or worried about the legacy? It seemed nothing was simple these days.
Ella went through the morning shower and dressing ritual, noting her breasts seemed tender. It was another sign of her pregnancy, she knew. Five minutes later, she walked into the kitchen. As she did, she saw Rose was already there beside the stove, making scrambled eggs for a breakfast burrito.
“Good morning, Daughter. I placed your boots out on the porch so they could dry out thoroughly today. It’s a good thing you keep them well oiled, or the river water would have shrunk them up enough to fit Julian.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m glad I held on to my old pair. I’d forgotten how soft and comfortable they were. Can I help you with breakfast?” Ella moved to the counter, where Rose had placed a plate with two baked potatoes.
“Just chop up those potatoes into cubes, then get the cheese and green chile salsa out of the refrigerator. The tortillas are already on the table.”
A half hour later, Ella was finishing her second burrito and sipping a glass of milk when the phone rang. “That’s probably for me, Mom. Maybe there’s been some news about the kidnapping.” Ella reached for the phone on the wall, suspecting from the early morning hour that it was probably Big Ed Atcitty.
“Shorty, we’ve just got a call from the tribal offices up on the mesa. It looks like we can add Ernest Ben to the list of kidnapped people. Go straight there. I’ll have the other people on your team meet you.”
“I’ll be at the scene in fifteen minutes or so, Chief. Who else knows about this?” Ella asked.
“Just the maintenance man at the tribal office for now. The kidnappers left their calling card there, so to speak. You’ll see when you get there. This will all become common knowledge soon when the rest of the staff show up for work, so get going. I’ve already had someone check the Ben residence, just to make sure this wasn’t a hoax and he wasn’t there. But, on the plus side, there were no signs of violence either. He’s recently divorced so we checked with his ex, but she hasn’t seen him either.”
“I’ll call Blalock and fill him in,” Ella said, then hung up.
“Did they find the senator? Your expression suggests bad news. Is he dead?” Rose asked.
“No, at least I don’t think so. But we probably have another kidnapping. Keep it to yourself, though, until I can confirm it. We don’t want to frighten his family if this turns out to be a false alarm.”
“Who’s missing?”
“Ernest Ben, head of the tribe’s economic development.” Ella stood, took another swallow of milk, then checked to verify her handgun was in place. “Gotta go. Thanks for the great breakfast.”
“Come by for lunch if you get the chance, Daughter. Oh, wasn’t the man you’re going to check on involved in the altercation with the Fierce Ones at the tribal offices?”
“He was there, all right,” Ella said, remembering. “That makes two people connected to that incident who are now missing.” Ella regretted her words almost instantly knowing that her mother was going to be worrying about Clifford now. “You know that officers are going to be talking to the Fierce Ones again, don’t you, Mom?” Ella asked gently.
“I was just thinking of that. Will you be questioning your brother yourself?” Rose asked. “You know how people will talk if you do, especially after everything that
’s happened already.”
“Maybe Justine can take care of that. Everyone knows she works on my team, but it still might take some of the edge off the gossip.” Ella put on her jacket, and started out, hoping today would be a better day than yesterday.
“Take care of yourself. Your daughter needs you,” Rose said.
The words rang in her ears as she left the house, and got into her Jeep. The sun was rising over the hills far to the east, illuminating the Jeep in a strong light, and forcing her to lower the visor. It would be a few more minutes before the valley below felt the warmth of the morning rays but, by then, she’d be on Highway 666, speeding north toward Shiprock. As she drove down the dirt road, she noticed an old woman herding goats. The woman, her attention on the animals, never even turned her way.
* * *
“That’s where I found them,” Andrew Tallman pointed up at the aluminum flagpole halfway between the curb and the front door of the brick tribal office.
“The pants were hanging by their belt loops from the snaps on the flagpole rope, flapping in the morning breeze. Right?” Ella asked, verifying the facts. Andrew Tallman, in his late sixties, was obviously a man of few words, and it had taken nearly fifteen minutes to determine he really didn’t know much about Ernest Ben at all, except for what was in the note.
“And when you took down the pants you noticed the belt with his name on it. Is that right?” Justine pressed. She looked half asleep, but Ella was glad that her assistant’s brain had already woken up.
Andrew nodded once. “I found the note in his pocket, read it, and called the police.” The custodian/maintenance man cleared his throat. “I didn’t think about fingerprints until it was too late. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about that anymore, Mr. T.,” Ella said. She was glad that Tallman had eventually placed the note between the pages of a novel he’d been reading so that the workers, who’d arrived before the officers, wouldn’t touch it as well. Maybe they’d still be able to find some useable fingerprints besides Tallman’s.