Blackening song

by Thurlo, Aimée

  That much made sense, particularly, Ella mused, if that evil was in the form of a man or a woman bent on revenge for some real or imagined crime. She still didn't believe the family "legacy" was real, but motivations rooted in religious beliefs could be deadly.

  "But, you know, even those of our clan who were corrupted by the abilities they'd inherited, weren't truly evil," Rose added. "They simply failed to bring temptation under control, and allowed it to ruin their lives and those of the ones around them."

  "And the children of those who failed? Did they also fail?"

  "Some did; others didn't. Each person makes their own choices," Rose explained. "There's something else you should know. The power, even within the same generation, is not given in equal measures. The women have always had greater power than the men."

  "Until now," Ella protested. "Clifford can sway people with a few words. I've never been able to match him in anything."

  Rose's eyes found her daughter's and held them. "I believe that your powers will someday exceed Clifford's, though they will take a different direction."

  "Different how?"

  "I can't be more specific than that. You see, how much

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  you accept, how much you choose to develop, isn't foreordained. It's up to you."

  Ella didn't argue; she agreed, at least in part. Any talent or gift needed to be developed. That's what she'd done with her police instincts and training. Her effectiveness was a result of a concerted effort to use all the knowledge and intuition she possessed.

  "Someone's coming," Rose said. At that instant, the dog rolled over and sniffed the air, ears erect and gaze focused.

  Ella strained to see through the darkness. Finally a vague outline appeared among the gray nighttime shadows. She automatically felt for her gun, then forced herself to relax. The man was on foot, coming from a direction that would have been impassable by truck or car. Only a member of Clifford's family was likely to approach from the north. She glanced down and saw that Dog's tail was up. No growl had escaped his throat.

  "It's Paul," Rose said. "I recognize the way he walks. He always looks like he's lost something on the ground."

  Ella began to laugh. Her mother had just reminded her of the one thing she thought she'd never forget. Observation and patience were an investigator's best allies. Many other things could help, but, without those, progress was often impossible.

  Paul approached as Rose waved at him, inviting him up to the porch. Paul's downcast expression represented utter defeat, and Ella held her breath, fearing bad news.

  "May I come inside?" he asked.

  Ella noted the jagged cut that crisscrossed his arm. Blood had caked over it, but it still looked raw and painful. "What happened to you?" she asked quickly as they stepped toward the door.

  "I've let my family down."

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  Rose gave Ella a look of alarm, but her voice was gentle and soothing. "Come inside. Let me take care of that cut/'

  Paul shuffled across the living room. The wound wasn't deep, but he looked like a man who was dead inside.

  Ella felt the icy grip of fear spreading through her, and her throat went dry. Paul sat at the kitchen table, staring at Rose as she cleaned the wound on his arm. His silence seemed to stretch endlessly.

  Finally he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had been meticulously folded. Paul handed the note to Ella while Rose, at the sink, prepared one of her herb poultices.

  Ella opened the note and studied the odd writing while holding the pages only by the edges. Each letter looked like a child's scrawl formed with a turkey quill. Yet the runny, red liquid was no ordinary ink. The message, she suspected, was written in blood.

  As she began to comprehend the note's contents, Ella turned so her mother couldn't see the words.

  "Wait." Rose placed a hand on Ella's shoulder and drew her back around. Rose read the note at a glance, then took a stumbling step backward, falling hard into the chair. "No," she whispered.

  Ella took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll handle this. It'll be all right."

  "But... they have Loretta."

  Ella glanced at the note again. The message was succinct. It read, "If Clifford does the Sing, his wife dies." She met Paul's gaze. "Who delivered this and when?" she asked in a crisp, confident style. She had to break through the barrier created by shock and restore hope.

  "I don't know who, but it happened about an hour ago."

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  "Tell me everything/' Ella said, sitting across the table from him.

  "I heard Clifford—I was sure it was him, calling from the bushes behind the house. I thought he was afraid to come into the open, or that he didn't want Loretta to see him and get upset. I went outside to meet him, but the voice seemed to be coming from farther away than I originally thought. I walked toward the sound, toward a stand of junipers, and caught a glimpse of the one calling me. He was taller than Clifford, and heavier-set. I realized that it was a trick, so I ran back to the house as fast as I could. I'd only been away for a minute, but Loretta was gone. She'd been reading, and her book and glasses were on the floor. They also took my rifle."

  "What did you do then?"

  "I ran outside; I was going to go after them. A dark pickup rushed past, and someone threw a huge rock right at me. It almost hit my head, except I dodged at the last second. That's when I cut my arm, on a broken-off tree branch. The note was attached to the rock."

  "After you read it, you came straight here?"

  "Yeah, as fast as I could. I didn't want to go to FB-Eyes. I don't trust him."

  "We'll have to go to him now. We have to get Loretta back. To do that, we're going to have to find out where she is, and that'll take manpower."

  "Skinwalkers have my sister, and you want to go to an Anglo? He doesn't know enough about us, or what we're fighting."

  "That's true, but we don't have a choice. Whatever the motive, this is still a kidnapping, and that's something the bureau trains its agents to handle," Ella answered. "We

  have to find Loretta quickly. The danger to her increases with every minute that passes."

  Paul nodded. "All right. What should I do?"

  "Help me load something into my truck, then stay here while I talk to Blalock and try to get an operation going. In the meantime, I want you to visualize the man you saw. Did you recognize him? Try to remember his voice, or anything else that might help you identify him or the others. Then try to think of where they might have taken Loretta."

  "I have no way of knowing all that! I barely saw the man who tricked me! You're asking me to do the impossible!"

  "Think. You said he was heavier than Clifford. How much heavier? Is there anyone you can think of who's about the same size?"

  "Samuel Pete, but it wasn't him. I'm certain of it."

  "Why?"

  "He moved like a younger man."

  "See that? You do remember some things. Keep working on it."

  Ella quickly checked the contents of her equipment trunk. Everything seemed to be in order. Together she and Paul carried the trunk to the pickup.

  Seeing the look on her mother's face, Ella's throat tightened. "I'll be back soon. In the meantime, call Herman Cloud, or his son-in-law. Better yet, go see them."

  "No. Paul and I will watch out for ourselves. And if we need help fast, I have the police dispatcher's number."

  Recalling Peterson's instructions to her mother, Ella nodded.

  "We will be all right," Rose answered. "You be careful."

  "I'll be back as soon as possible."

  Ella's heart pounded as she drove way. She had to find her brother's wife. First he'd lost his son, then his father.

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  Now this. They wanted to bring him to his knees and then destroy him. She wouldn't allow that to happen.

  One fact was very clear. The skinwalkers could only have found out
about her brother's plans to do a Sing if they'd had access to the listening device Blalock had planted. She'd have found a second bug. Blalock owed her big now, and she would get his cooperation if she had to wring it out of him.

  Ella made the forty-minute drive to the station in less than thirty. As she pulled into the police station's parking lot, she saw Blalock unlocking his car door. She screeched to a stop and saw him instinctively reach for his weapon.

  "Don't bother pulling your gun, just get in. You're coming with me."

  "You have a death wish or something? I might have shot you!" he bellowed angrily.

  "There's no time for this. Get in."

  "What the hell's the matter with you?" he argued, getting inside the truck and slamming the door.

  "You and I have to talk, so shut up and listen."

  She filled him in as she headed quickly down the highway. Spotting a dirt road ahead, she turned on to it and parked. Ella shifted in her seat to look at Blalock. "Who else knew about that listening device?"

  "Only a handful of people—the receiver was inside my temporary office at the police station."

  "Who?"

  "The police chief, Yazzie, and the desk sergeant who mans the telephones."

  "That's it?"

  "I didn't want the news to get out, and let's face it, every clan has a bazillion cousins, nieces, and nephews. There are at least five other Clahs in the department."

  "Then someone monitored that conversation at the same time you did. That's the only explanation. Who heard that conversation, and, more important, who had the chance to leak the information to someone else?"

  "A tip could have been passed at any time. Someone let your brother know we were coming."

  "No, there wasn't enough time. The kidnappers went on the offensive just about the time you raided my mother's place. They launched their attack while you were busy with us."

  Blalock's face grew hard and angry. "Then there's a traitor at the tribal police department."

  "Which officers were in on the operation, and did anyone leave the room right after you decided to make the raid?" she asked insistently.

  "The police chief was the only one who left. He'd brought us some of the assault gear." Blalock paused. "Is it possible that someone else planted a bug in your house?"

  She gave him an incredulous look. "Get serious. I've searched, and besides, it's far more likely they used yours."

  "Then the only suspect I can think of is your father-in-law."

  The information weighed heavily on her. Randall wasn't very likable, but she would never have thought of him as an enemy. She shook her head in disbelief. There had to be another answer, an explanation Randall could give. But for now, this was the only lead she had to pursue.

  "What do you want me to do?" Blalock asked.

  "I need your help, and you need mine. You don't want news of this mess getting back to the bureau, and I want my sister-in-law back safely. If the police department can't be trusted, then we have to rely on each other."

  "I have no idea where to begin searching. Unless you

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  do, there's nothing we can do except go back to the station and round up as many men as we can, hoping the good ones will outweigh the bad. We can have a crime-scene unit go over to your brother's house and see what they can find/'

  "That will take too long. While we investigate, the kidnappers could easily kill Loretta." She shook her head. "I have a better idea. If my father-in-law is involved, I have a few suggestions about where we can start looking." The thought made her sick inside.

  "I'm listening."

  "He used to have a hogan near Wilson Joe's place. I can't remember exactly where; it was a long time ago. The family abandoned it after a relative died there one summer."

  "Let's check it out."

  "First, let's find out exactly where it is." She drove to the public phone outside the gas station. She dialed Wilson's home number, and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him answer. "I need directions," Ella said briskly, "but I don't have time to explain why."

  To his credit, Wilson gave her the directions without any hesitation. "I'll meet you there."

  "No. Blalock is with me. I'll talk to you later."

  Heading east, Ella drove through a grove of trees and across a narrow wooden bridge. Below, the irrigation canal was half full of muddy water. Heading toward the river, they passed several corn- and alfalfa fields and a small wood-frame house. Two children played beside an old car up on cinder blocks. A single, bright light, high on a pole, illuminated the yard.

  As they drove past, one of the kids, a long-haired girl in a T-shirt and jeans, made a face at Blalock. He laughed, then sobered when Ella looked at him in surprise. He checked

  his pistol, placing his extra clips in his jacket pocket for easy access.

  About a mile from the hogan, Ella headed into a shallow arroyo and parked. "We'll have to go in on foot from here. I don't want to tip off a sentry, if there is one/'

  "It's already too dark for us to spot any guards if they're in the shadows. Then again, the darkness can work in our favor."

  Abruptly, Ella held up a hand, signaling Blalock to remain still. A soft, muffled sound was coming toward them.

  Ella tensed and drew her pistol. Blalock, weapon already in hand, cocked his head to one side, indicating that he'd go around and try to take the person by surprise.

  Ella crouched down and waited. Blalock wasn't about to take anyone by surprise, regardless of what he thought. He was making enough noise to wake the dead. What he would do was flush the person toward her, and that suited her just fine. She scarcely breathed as she listened for the muted steps that Blalock's passage almost obscured.

  Then she heard a soft rustle in the outcropping of tum-bleweeds a few yards to her right. Someone was there. She aimed her weapon and kept it steady as the man appeared. The barrel of her pistol was trained on his chest, and when he saw it, he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.

  Recognizing Wilson, Ella broke her stance, quickly pointing the barrel up. "What the hell are you doing here?" she said in a harsh whisper.

  "I came to help," Wilson answered. "My pickup is just ahead, around the bend."

  Blalock emerged from the bushes amidst a symphony of snaps and crackling twigs. His gun was aimed at Wilson's head. "Don't move, pal. Don't even breathe."

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  "It's okay/' Ella whispered quickly. "Put your weapon down."

  "He appears out of nowhere and you're ready to trust him? Not with my neck, you don't," Blalock challenged, a hint of anger in his voice.

  "Chill," she snapped. "He's the one I called to get the location of this place."

  Wilson's face was a carefully crafted picture of serenity. "If I'd wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have approached you so openly."

  "What openly? You scarcely made a sound. Good thing our hearing's sharp."

  "There might be others around," Wilson replied softly. "We must keep quiet. What's going on, anyway?"

  "Loretta's been kidnapped, and Police Chief Clan could be responsible," Ella said quickly, and explained about the bug.

  "Are you sure about this? He's your father-in-law." Wilson was as surprised as she had been.

  "The more I think about it, the more I know I'm right," Ella muttered sadly.

  "Then Randall is one of them," Wilson said.

  Ella knew he meant a skinwalker, and her stomach sank even further in revulsion.

  "His hogan has a death hole punched in the side, but that wouldn't stop them," Wilson continued, disgust apparent in his tone and attitude.

  "We've got to know exactly how many people we're dealing with, and where they're positioned. Loretta is probably being held inside the hogan. We have to come up with a strategy to get in there and free Loretta," Ella whispered.

  "If guards are posted outside, we could take them out

  and raid the hogan," Blalock said. ''Let me take a look. I'll come up wi
th a plan that'll work."

  "You can't go," she said flatly. "You make too much noise. Wait here for me." She slipped through the gathering shadows and disappeared.

  Time seemed to drag as the men waited impatiently for Ella to return. When she finally appeared, deadly intent and determination were etched clearly on her features. Wilson didn't need more than one glance to know they were about to take action.

  "I counted four armed men. One stays by the hogan; the other three are patrolling. They're nervous and at each other's throats. One almost shot another by mistake just a minute ago. The hole in the side of the hogan has been patched. The entrance is no longer covered with a blanket. There's a solid wooden door that's padlocked from the outside."

  "Big deal. We'll force the padlock with a lug wrench," Blalock said.

  "Fine, but you'll have to get past the armed men first," Wilson replied quietly.

  "Get to the point, Clah. Is your sister-in-law being held there?"

  "Yes."

  "You saw her?"

  "No, but they've got someone inside. They took food in, and from one of the disgusting remarks I overheard, I know it's a woman. I don't need the I.Q. of Einstein to figure out the rest."

  "Let me call the bureau and get a SWAT team in from Farmington."

  "Are you crazy? The minute they come onto the reservation, word will get out, and Loretta will be dead."

  "If there's four of them and only two of us, then she's liable to end up dead anyway."

  "Three," Wilson corrected.

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  "Yeah, right. Just what we need. Civilian cannon fodder." Blalock shook his head. "All you'll do is add to the casualty list."

  "Wilson Joe may be a civilian, but out here, people learn to shoot and hunt early in life. It's part of our way," Ella said.