Far from being impressed by the confession, Del Rio threw back his head and roared with laughter that rivaled his brother’s loudest, and managed to be belittling at the same time. MacDonald had finally had enough and leapt at Del Rio, cocking back his fist for a roundhouse blow that hit nothing but air. Del Rio easily stepped aside and let MacDonald’s momentum carry him into a jarring crash against a wall.
Chee moved to stop the fight when Del Rio waved her back with such intensity in his face and in the gesture itself, that she found herself obeying the command yet again before she realized it. MacDonald levered himself back up and charged Del Rio twice more, each time the wild blow missing a target that simply wasn’t there anymore as Del Rio easily dodged each attack without striking a counter blow of any sort.
Enraged, MacDonald picked up a baseball bat lying next to his couch and charged again. Del Rio calmly grabbed hold of a walking stick leaning against a bookshelf that he’d correctly gauged as being the same length and weight as a lacrosse stick. MacDonald drew the bat back over his head, winding up to land a crushing blow to his tormentor’s skull. Del Rio moved so quickly, Chee wasn’t certain that she had seen him move at all.
Whack! A blow to MacDonald’s wrist that drew a howl of pain as the bat was quickly dropped.
Whack! A blow to the back of the right knee and another scream as the stick remained in contact long enough to hook the leg, lifting MacDonald to slam him back first, down to the uncarpeted floor.
Before it could register with Chee, and likely MacDonald himself, Del Rio planted the blunt end of the stick into MacDonald’s chest and stood above the fallen man. Chee could see MacDonald trying to get up, but he might have well been welded to the floor. Finally, he relented to the inevitable.
“Are you finished?” Del Rio asked calmly, not even a bead of sweat to betray he’d had to exert himself one iota. “Good. Officer Chee, did any of the victims die in the manner in which our friend here just confessed to?”
“Not even close.”
“No, Adam, you didn’t kill them,” Del Rio continued in that same calm, matter-of-fact tone. “You had no reason to even want them dead. They weren’t important enough for you to even be troubled to find out exactly how they’d been killed. Besides, you’re not a killer Adam; you don’t have it in you.”
“How do you know that?” MacDonald rasped, making one last defiant stand.
“Because it takes a killer to know one, Adam,” Del Rio said and Chee heard both relief, for MacDonald’s sake, and sadness for his own, in his voice. “There’s only one killer in this room, Adam. It’s not you and it isn’t her.”
MacDonald stared up at Del Rio, completely off-balance by this stranger’s words and actions.
“Then what was all this about?”
“I had to be sure, Adam,” Del Rio replied. “I’m sorry. This was the only way. You are many things, a pain in some people’s ass, maybe a man with a point worth considering, if he ever learns how to channel his passion and energy, but not a killer. That just isn’t in you and that is meant as a compliment by the way.
“So what do you say I let you up and let’s be friends now?” Del Rio added. “You might be able to help me out and bring the real killer to justice.”
Del Rio took his weight off the stick and deftly flipped it end over end to land standing upright in the exact spot it had been in before he picked it up. He extended a hand down and helped MacDonald back to his feet. Not knowing what reaction to expect, Chee prepared to leap into action if MacDonald still had some fight left in him, but she needn’t have been worried.
“You’re pretty handy with that,” MacDonald said, nodding at the stick.
“Four-year ride on a lacrosse scholarship,” Del Rio said with a grin. “Ironic isn’t it, given the sport is descended from a Native American game?”
“Great, I just got my ass kicked by a white man who’s a better Indian than me,” groused MacDonald. “Alright, you earned it I guess. What do you want to know?”
If Del Rio was as surprised at the sudden turnaround as Chee was, he didn’t let on.
“You hear things out here,” Del Rio began. “You pretty much know what’s going on as far as businesses coming in and land deals and what not, right?”
“Yeah sure, everyone does.”
“So, have you heard of any projects or deals that might not sit well with people out here, or had any of the three victims made any statements that might not have been well received?”
“Nothing that I can remember.”
“Have you heard anyone complaining about any of them, maybe a little more forcefully than normal?”
“Nothing man,” MacDonald said with a shrug. “Before they were killed I don’t think there had been anything happening with them that anyone cared about.”
Del Rio stared at MacDonald as if he were peeling back layer after layer of an onion and examining each one molecule by molecule. Whatever he saw, Chee decided, he accepted that MacDonald was telling the truth.
“This your work?” Del Rio asked, picking up a stuffed squirrel that had been knocked to the floor earlier. It was attached to a small, thick branch and clutched an acorn to its tiny chest.
“Yeah, one of my first.”
“It looks like it could take off with that acorn at any second,” Del Rio commented. “That’s good work.”
“Thank you,” MacDonald said, no small measure of pride in his voice. Chee shook her head in disbelief. Not minutes before they’d been engaged in a brawl — one-sided as it had been — and now they were this close to being drinking buddies. Men, she thought.
“You do a lot of different animals?”
“Sure. You kill it; I can stuff it.”
“I was wondering,” Del Rio asked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag that he’d put the hair sample in from the Runningelk crime scene. “If you could tell me what kind of animal this hair came off of?”
After opening the bag, Del Rio shook out the hairs into MacDonald’s open palm. MacDonald looked them over and gently rubbed them between his fingers.
“That’s coyote hair,” MacDonald proclaimed, “but it’s not off a live animal, this has been treated with a preservative, like for a hide.”
“Or a stuffed animal for display?”
“Yeah, that too.”
“So how many coyotes have you done?” Del Rio asked, prodding when MacDonald hesitated. “Adam, I need to know how many and who you did them for.”
“Okay,” MacDonald relented. “I’ve done six in all. One I sold to a guy off the Res.”
“And the other five? Who has the other five on the Res, Adam?”
MacDonald shot a nervous glance at Chee before finally relenting, despite being very uncomfortable.
“Tso has a full animal, so does her boss Shirley,” MacDonald said quietly. “I did a pelt for Shelly and a full animal for Speaker Jim.”
“And the fifth one, Adam?” Del Rio prodded. “Who has the fifth one?”
“I sold that one,” MacDonald said after a nervous gulp, “to Ben Yazzie.”
****
Back in Window Rock, Speaker Jim stood alone in his office, looking out his window in silent contemplation. Yazzie’s sudden decision to call in outside help had been troubling. Normally the NNPD would have had been given some time to work the case on their own first before calling in the outsiders.
Jim’s impression of the FBI Agent from their only meeting, however brief it had been, was not a positive one. He hadn’t been expecting much prior to the man’s arrival and the few updates he’d received on Del Rio’s movements so far were unimpressive.
Still it would not be wise to underestimate the man based on limited information. He could prove to be something of a disruption, and that was something Jim did not need on his reservation. The problem was he could not openly be seen as obstructing or opposing the Agent’s investigation. No possible explanation for that action on his part would be accepted, even among the most
ardent opponents of the current President.
If Jim had learned anything from his years in the Army, it had been that the one strategic mistake that should never be made was to let the enemy dictate how the battle was to be conducted. That dictum applied in politics just as much as it had in war.
He only spent another moment or two staring at his reflection in the window before making up his mind what to do next. This was a matter that needed to be dealt with away from prying eyes, and sooner rather than later. He returned to his desk, picked up the receiver and punched in a code on the inter-office line.
“It’s me,” he said when his call was answered. “About that conversation regarding Ben the other day? Yes, I’d like to discuss it further. Somewhere private would be better. I know you’ll understand why.”
He nodded his assent as he listened to the reply.
“That will be satisfactory. I will meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
Jim hung up the phone and strode over to the fireplace — the Speaker’s office was the lone room so equipped in the entire building. Mounted on a stone in a crouched position in front of the hearth was the stuffed coyote done by MacDonald. Jim reached down and grabbed the animal’s small head firmly in one hand, pushed down hard and simultaneously turned the entire piece clockwise. After the coyote had rotated ninety degrees Jim heard a soft click from the far side of the fireplace, announcing that the private door that very few knew existed had just been unlocked.
Jim exited the building fully assured that no unwanted eyes would ever know that he’d left and certainly none would witness his next meeting.
SIXTEEN
Tommie Walker paced back and forth nervously. She knew she should have told the officer serving as her bodyguard that she was stepping outside so he could go with her, but she was tired of being escorted everywhere she went.
Born Tomalina Kayani, she had adopted Tommie as her official first name when she’d married and taken on her husband’s surname. She had always been a little heavyset, even as a small child, and was never any good at sports, but she had always had an insatiable curiosity and a drive to succeed at whatever she tried. So when she had turned to politics, no one in her clan was the least bit surprised when she succeeded.
She had ridden into her council seat, along with Runningelk and Hoskie, as part of the youth movement that had powered Yazzie to office as well. Her family was concerned that these young lions were being targeted for just that reason. They wanted her to stay closer to home until the killer had been caught, but she had work to do; part of which had led her out here, on the far side of Tségháhoodzání, waiting to have a private meeting away from prying eyes. She wasn’t concerned for her safety since she completely trusted the person she was waiting for. She felt entirely comfortable sharing any thought, idea or question with him. She had gone straight to him after Hoskie had approached her with Yazzie’s plan, despite his admonishment to keep what she’d been told to herself for now. She had been looking to recruit him into their growing circle as she felt he was one of the few in the old guard who was secretly open to changing ways, despite his more public appearance. If he, of all people, was open to such change then many others would fall into line.
It was broad daylight and she could hear the visitors stirring around in the park below. She doubted that whoever the killer was, he wouldn’t try anything in such a public setting. So she paced the trail that led to the top of Tségháhoodzání and waited for him. She let her mind wonder what conversation was so important it needed to be held so quickly and secretly, then it wandered onto several other issues that she wanted to raise at the next council meeting.
She heard something snap behind her and she whirled around quickly, trying to locate the source of the sound. There was nothing there. She was mentally chiding herself for being a nervous Nellie when she heard a whisper of sound.
****
“It can’t be Ben,” Chee said as she whipped the car around a slow truck. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m not saying it is,” Del Rio replied, trying unsuccessfully to get a signal on his cell phone, “but we have to keep him in the mix as a suspect now until we can prove otherwise.”
“You’re certain it’s one of MacDonald’s five customers?”
“Pretty much. We found those hairs at all three scenes and they’ve all been treated chemically. I’ll bet if we took the time to have them tested, the hairs will all be from the same individual animal and the preservative on all three will match perfectly.”
Chee stared ahead silently, trying to get them close enough to Chinle to pick up the cell tower so they could call in. Del Rio did not want what he had to say going out over the regular open channel of the car’s radio.
“Look, for the record,” Del Rio added, watching the screen for the “signal found” message, “I don’t think its Yazzie either, because he would have been crazy to call in the FBI so quickly if he was the killer, and I sincerely doubt that it’s Tso or Shirley. They didn’t strike me as the type to do what our killer is doing. Nevertheless, we can’t just dismiss them based on a feeling. We’ll need to make sure they’re clear.
“Right now,” Del Rio added. “I’d have to say our primary suspects are Jim and Shelly, and I am leaning slightly towards Jim at this point.”
“Why?”
“They both opposed Yazzie early on before seeming to ease their opposition,” Del Rio explained. “They are both politician enough to know which way the wind is blowing and adjust accordingly. Jim seems to be a little less on board than Shelly to me. That could just mean Shelly is a better actor than Jim. I get the feeling Jim wouldn’t mind seeing Yazzie go down in flames.
“The tipping point for me is their military past,” Del Rio added. “Shelly was basically just a grunt and got in and back out in the minimum amount of time. As far as I can tell, he didn’t see much direct combat in the Marines, if any at all. Jim was Special Forces in the Army in the final years of Vietnam, and he has training not only in killing people one-on-one, but in planning complex ops as well. He may be an old man now, but he looks like he could still handle himself in a fight, especially if he has the advantage of knowing that fight is coming before the other guy.”
Chee had to concede the point. Jim was a man who took no prisoners in council chambers. If he had decided to take action against Yazzie and the others for whatever reason, he could easily be behind the murders. She wasn’t so sure Shelly was in the clear at all.
“You disagree?” Del Rio asked, having watched a host of emotions flick across her face as she’d thought.
“I just think there’s more to Shelly underneath that slick smile of his,” Chee replied. “I really can’t explain why.”
“Okay,” Del Rio said after a moment. “Jim and Shelly are Suspects One-A and One-B until the evidence tells us otherwise.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“No worries,” Del Rio replied before doing a double-take at his phone. “Finally! We’ve got a signal.”
Del Rio had created speed dials for all the principals in this case and quickly tapped two keys to initiate the call and a third key to switch to speaker. Shirley picked up on the first ring.
“Chief, we’re on our way back into Window Rock and there’s been a development,” Del Rio began without preamble. “We have reason to believe we can narrow down the next target to five people. I want you to put extra people on these five without pulling protection from any of the others, just in case.”
“How good is your information on this?”
“Good enough to warrant us moving on it right away, Chief.”
“Very well. Who are they?”
“Yazzie, Shelly, Jim, Tso and you, Chief,” Del Rio said, ignoring the look Chee shot at him. “I want you to put at least two of your people — more if you have them handy — on each person. And Chief, I don’t want you and Tso playing hero on this. Take the extra protection and let’s see if we can catch this guy without losing anyone else.
”
There was a long pause at the other end.
“Very well, I’ll bring in everyone I can,” Shirley relented. “Any clue on who’s behind this?”
“Nothing concrete,” Del Rio hedged, “other than five likely targets. Chief, let’s make sure all of your people stay extra sharp. I think we’ve been lucky so far that our guy hasn’t hit again. Luck only lasts so long, you know.”
“Agreed,” Shirley replied. “Nearly all of the protectees are here right now. We’ll walk around and make sure they’re still here and give our people the word. When will you be back here?”
“About two hours at most,” Del Rio answered after a quick look at the speedometer. “We’ll see you then.”
Chee waited for Del Rio to close the connection before saying anything.
“You didn’t tell him everything,” she accused, “like him being a suspect.”
“No, I didn’t,” Del Rio admitted, “and I don’t plan on telling him about the hairs either, at least not until we can clear him all the way.”
Del Rio fixed a hard look at Chee, waiting to see what her response would be. After a long moment that seemed to last a month, she finally nodded her reluctant assent. Del Rio held his look a bit longer, before nodding back, satisfied she would back his play.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Let’s see if we can wrap this up nice and neat today.”
****
They’d made good time coming back, although Del Rio wouldn’t have been surprised to see paint streaks on the side of the car when he got out. Chee had driven fast and had left little room for error on many of her passes on the two lane reservation roads. Del Rio had hoped to have all five of their suspects closely watched and accounted for in their respective offices when they returned.
That plan died just as soon as they pulled into the parking lot. The entire area was flooded with uniformed officers, Tso’s agents, and civilians all wandering around in a scene of barely controlled chaos.
Jack Del Rio: Complete Trilogy: Reservations, Betrayals, Endgames Page 12