by Aimée
A second later, he smiled at Ella and gave her a gallon can half full of .40-caliber reloads. “Here you go. A little interdepartmental courtesy. Go show the boys of the San Juan County Sheriff’s Office how it’s done.”
As Jack walked off, Dan glowered at him. Ella laughed, knowing that Jack and Dan didn’t get along. She suspected that there was something about the two alpha males that made them completely incompatible.
“He’s messing with you,” she said, then put the can down. “We use the same ammo, and I’ll share.”
They walked outside to the handgun firing line, backed by earthen berms tall enough to trap all but the most errant shots. Ella took a position to Dan’s left. No other deputies were present, so they set up their targets at the twenty-five-yard distance, then both fired off several rounds.
Ella, despite the nuisance of a small bandage on her hand, placed most of her rounds in the heart area of the paper silhouette, but Dan chose head shots and grouped the rounds in a cluster about the size of a golf ball.
“Nice shooting,” Ella said. Yet even as she spoke, she could feel her competitive edge spark to life. She had a tight grouping, too, but it was more the size of her fist. It was time to up her game. “So what do you say we try for head shots at fifty yards?”
“Sure,” Dan said, smiling. “If you think you’re up to it.”
“Watch and learn,” she said.
Another county officer arrived, then walked over and stood behind them to watch as Ella took aim. At this distance, her shots were all grouped within a six-inch cluster centered on the bridge of the nose.
Dan placed his first shot on the nose area of his target, then proceeded to place shots above and in a curve to the right, forming a crude letter D.
“Not enough ammo to write your entire name?” Ella smirked. “Show-off.”
He laughed. “You’re an excellent shot, but I have an edge. My hand’s bigger and can handle the recoil a lot better. In competition, you’d be better off with lower-velocity rounds and lighter bullets.”
“Yeah, but this is the weapon I use out in the field,” she said. “When my life is on the line, I want to know exactly what I can or can’t do with my pistol.”
While they were talking, the deputy sergeant who’d been watching them had time to set up his target. Ella watched him empty a magazine downrange. His shots went wide of the silhouette twice, but he managed to get the rest in the black.
“Good thing I’m not in the field anymore,” the older officer said.
The sergeant—his name tag said ROBERT KIRK—shot another full magazine at the target, improving slightly, then turned to them. “I’m done, thanks for not laughing,” he said. “Let me get my target, then I’m back to my desk.”
Five minutes later, the sergeant left, wishing them good shooting as he walked toward the parking lot.
“Kirk could retire anytime he wants,” Dan said, watching the officer load his gear into a department vehicle. “If I were in his shoes, I would have been long gone instead of working Hit and Run at headquarters.”
Ella, who’d been refilling the two magazines she’d expended, inserted a clip and moved the slide, placing a round into the chamber. She’d run a patch through the barrel later. As she returned the handgun to the holster on her hip, she looked over at Dan.
“Retirement—we look forward to it all the years we’re in, but when you actually get close to it, the picture changes,” she said as they headed toward the parking area.
“Are you worried that you won’t have enough to do?” Dan said.
“It’s not that, not exactly, anyway,” she said. “For the past twenty years, I’ve gotten up each morning knowing pretty much what I’d be doing that day. I find the thought of getting up without that sense of purpose off-putting somehow.”
“You’re barely over forty, in great shape, and with pretty much half your life ahead of you. There’s no end to what you can do.”
She smiled. It was the optimistic response most people who weren’t considering retirement always had. Dan was younger than she was, still in his mid-thirties, so to him retirement had all the reality of a movie on the science fiction channel.
She smiled politely.
He laughed hard. “You think I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”
It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t answer.
“To tell you the truth, I can’t see you staying at home and learning how to weave, but there’s always the possibility of you going into business for yourself.”
“Doing what?” she asked, more curious than anything else.
“Setting up a firm that offers personal security for the high-ranking women of the tribe.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You know, that’s not a half-bad idea.”
“I’ve taken off-duty gigs protecting celebrities and politicians of both sexes, and I can tell you that many of the women would prefer their security being handled by someone of their own sex.”
“Less testosterone can come in handy, particularly when you want to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.
“Plus you can stay in the same room and she doesn’t have to worry about someone sneaking past outside security and coming after her in the middle of the night.”
“You know that’s really a great idea. I’m not sure I’d start my own firm, but I can certainly hire out my services to someone who already has a company.”
“Like Bruce Little?” Seeing her nod, he added, “That’s also a good idea. You’d be a great asset to him. You’re practically a law enforcement legend around here. People trust you.”
“Do you?” she asked, taking the opportunity to get back to business.
“Yeah, I know where you’re heading with this. You’ve found out more about the thefts?”
She nodded. “The stolen inventory came from the county commissioner’s office and sheriff’s department, and both are housed in the same building.”
“I’ll ask around off the cuff and see what I can get, Ella, but that’s as far as I’m going with this. I’ve been with the department less than two years and I’m not really sure who I can trust. It’s possible I’ll end up making a bad enemy—one that’ll cost me my job.”
“There’s no reason why it has to come to that,” she said. “Just tell me who actually has physical access to the inventory.”
“Sheriff Taylor, for sure, but I’m not sure who else. Probably some of the office staff, heads of the divisions, and the physical plant supervisors, like maintenance.”
“Sheriff Taylor…,” Ella said in a thoughtful low voice.
“You don’t think he’s your man, do you?” he asked, surprised. “The thief?”
She shook her head. “No, no way. I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s as straight as an arrow.” She paused. “I was just wondering if he’s Teeny’s client. He’s certainly high up the county’s food chain, and Teeny would protect him, knowing the sheriff’s one of the good guys.”
“But what you’re saying doesn’t make sense. Taylor’s got an entire department under him. Why would he hire an outsider, a glorified rent-a-cop?”
Ella smiled. “Bruce Little is a skilled professional, don’t ever let him hear you call him that.”
Dan grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve heard what happens when someone disrespects him. One time an off-duty Farmington cop called Bruce a hired gun and got himself tossed into the bed of his own pickup.”
Ella laughed. “Yeah, I was there. Sergeant Tsosie shot off his mouth, like he always does. But he apologized afterwards, so all was cool again.”
“So, as I was saying, why would Sheriff Taylor go to an outsider? He could have handpicked an IA detective to do the job and instructed him to keep it under wraps.”
“In Taylor’s shoes, I might have also gone to Teeny, if for no other reason than to keep rivalries and office politics out of it. Teeny is completely loyal to his clients and to his friends.”
“You obviously know Sheriff Taylor
and have worked with him before. Why don’t you speak to him yourself?” he asked.
“I thought about it, and Big Ed’s been in contact with him about this case, but if Taylor’s Teeny’s client, I’ll be putting him on the spot and undermining his efforts to keep the theft investigation under the radar,” she said. “If he’s not Teeny’s client, I can give him a call, but I’d rather put it off until I run out of other options. Of course, if I find out that there’s no connection between the thefts and the murder, there’ll be no reason for me to get involved any further with Taylor’s county operations.”
“Yeah, good point.” Dan met Ella’s gaze and held it. “So I work with you under the radar on this and you owe me one?”
“Yeah, and you can call it in anytime,” she said.
“Good. It’ll keep the balance between us.”
She smiled. “Navajo Traditionalist thinking?”
“It comes naturally when dealing with the oldest criminals on our land—skinwalkers.”
“Did you hear about the latest body?”
“Yeah. The dead dude was taken from a graveyard in county jurisdiction,” he said. “Nobody saw a thing, apparently. Taylor sent me a copy of the report. Have you spoken to your brother about it yet?”
“Yeah, and he pointed out that to get a better handle on what’s happening, we need to figure out who or what is the skinwalker’s target. Usually that’s pretty straightforward,” Ella said.
“You may not be their primary target, but you’ve already been given a warning, so watch your back,” Dan said.
“They tried to scare me, but all they’ve done is piss me off, Dan. I’ll stay on my guard, but I’m going after them.”
After saying good-bye, Ella got under way. She was driving west through Aztec when her cell phone rang. A look at the caller ID told her it was Justine. She answered.
“I made it to class and it was a lame rehash of stuff right out of the academy training manual,” Justine said. “A total waste of time.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” Ella answered.
“After it was over, I was able to pick up the warrant we needed to access Harry’s calls and get his mail. My uncle, Judge Goodluck, always keeps the red tape to a minimum,” she said. “I also have preliminary findings on the rounds used against you and Big Ed. Some were ordinary buckshot, but the ones that smashed the headlight and sent shrapnel into your hand had something else.”
“Corpse poison?” she asked in a muted voice.
“There were bone fragments mixed in with the buckshot. I’ve sent samples to the lab in Albuquerque to see if they can match the DNA to the corpse that was dug up. Otherwise, we may have another body we’ve yet to find. Assuming the bones are human, of course.”
“This just keeps getting better and better.”
“Are you coming into the station?”
“Yeah. Now that we have a warrant, we can get the post office to turn Harry’s mail over to us. Whatever arrived after his death has been sitting in one of those boxes on a shelf,” Ella said. “Did you ever find out what cell phone carrier he was using? Once we get that, we can also look through his calls for a lead.”
“I haven’t made any progress on that front. I even called his ex-wife, but Selina was no help. Maybe we’ll find a bill in his mail,” Justine said.
Ella walked through the side doors of the station ten minutes later, said hello to the duty officer, then chose the hall to her left. As she approached Justine’s lab, Benny stepped out the door.
“Morning,” he said, then hurried off.
Ella smiled. It was good to see Justine with someone. Maybe she and Benny would take that final step in their relationship before too long.
As Ella went into the lab, she found Justine seated behind her computer terminal, a yellow rose in the vase next to her.
Ella fingered the soft petals gently. “Gift from Benny?”
Justine nodded. “Ever since he found out that I love yellow roses, he makes sure to bring one by every other day or so,” she said. “That’s what I like most about him. He isn’t big on special dates. What he does is take the little moments and finds a way to make them memorable. Last weekend he rented an old romantic comedy he knows I like and brought it over to my place along with a box of microwave popcorn and a six-pack of Mexican Cokes. It was a great evening.” Justine logged off her terminal and stood, reaching into a drawer for her firearm and extra magazines. “You ready to go?”
“Whenever you are,” Ella said, heading for the door.
“Oh, good news for a change. Our Suburban has been checked out. Nothing but cosmetic damage. The department doesn’t have the funds for a new paint job on an SUV with two hundred thousand miles on it, but we’re back in the saddle again.”
“Small victories, cuz—take ’em when you’ve got ’em,” Ella said.
* * *
They were soon back on the highway, Justine at the wheel as usual. Though Justine hadn’t spoken, Ella could see that she had something important on her mind. Rather than rush her, she waited.
After a few minutes, Ella began to worry. Reluctance to speak her mind was not something she’d ever associated with her partner.
“I’m not sure how to bring this up,” Justine said after a while longer. “My uncle mentioned it in passing, assuming I already knew. I tried to get more details from him, but when he realized that was the first I’d heard of it, he refused to say anything more.”
“Just come straight out with it.”
“Selina Ute and Nelson Natani got one of the tribal attorneys to agree that your involvement in the murder case could jeopardize its outcome in court. They took that legal opinion to Gerald Bidtah and filed a formal protest,” she said. “Bidtah came to our station to talk to Big Ed about that, apparently, but the chief refused to budge, insisting you were the best person for the job.”
“Are you telling me that Selina went all the way to tribal government with that nonsense about my having ruined her marriage?” Ella shifted in her seat to face Justine.
“I don’t know about that, but my uncle said that the way things stand, if you fail to close the case, Bidtah’s going to use that against Big Ed. He’s already trying to dig up everything he can to force Big Ed into retirement.”
Ella cursed. “I hate petty, political games that cross over into our arena. Bidtah has no idea how to run a police department, much less a murder investigation.”
“Bidtah’s argument that our department needs new blood has swayed some powerful people, Ella, including the tribal president and some in the tribal council. He’s actually using one of our creation stories to get the People’s attention and persuade them to side with him.”
“Huh?” Ella said, totally confused. “What story are you talking about?”
“I forget the details, but it’s the one that explains death and the need for renewal.”
“I remember the story, and I can tell you that the guy is really reaching,” Ella said.
“How’s it go?”
After a brief pause, Ella began. “It was during the time of the beginning,” she said, her voice as soft and entrancing as Rose’s had been when she shared the sacred knowledge. “The Hero Twins, sons of Sun and Turquoise Woman, were sent out to defeat all the monsters that preyed upon the earth. The Twins were invincible in battle and eventually only four dangerous enemies remained—Cold, Hunger, Poverty, and Death. The Twins wanted to kill Cold the second they saw her, but she warned them that if they killed her, there would be no snow or water in summer.”
“Oh, I know this story! It’s a good one. So they let her live,” Justine said.
Ella nodded. “Hunger then introduced himself. He told the heroes that if they killed him, no one would ever take pleasure in eating again and that’s why he was allowed to continue.”
“Everything has two sides,” Justine said with a nod.
“Poverty was an old man dressed in dirty rags,” Ella said, continuing. “He begged them to kill him and
put him out of his misery, but he also warned that if he died, old clothes would never wear out, and people wouldn’t make new ones. The incentive to better yourself would vanish, so everyone would be as dirty and ragged as he was.”
“Now I remember. Poverty was allowed to live as well,” Justine said.
“Finally they turned to Death,” Ella said. “She was old and frightening to look at. The Hero Twins wanted to kill her as quickly as possible, but Death warned them to reconsider. If she ceased to be, old people wouldn’t die and the young wouldn’t be able to take their places. They needed her so young men could marry, have children, and life could continue its endless cycle of renewal. She assured them that she was their friend, though they didn’t realize it.”
“So Bidtah’s saying that Big Ed should step aside and allow the renewal cycle to continue,” Justine said.
“Yes, and they’ll probably want me out, too. They’re using a little more finesse to do it, but I have a feeling they’re going to keep pushing me till I quit.”
“I think the real reason Bidtah is targeting you is because you’re too big a name—too well known. People look to you and your family for answers more often than not, and Gerald would rather be the one the People depend on. It’s a matter of ego—and positioning.”
“The whole thing’s just crazy,” Ella said, and shrugged. “There was a time when I would have fought this nonsense a lot harder, but experience tells me this isn’t a battle I can win. So let’s concentrate on what’s really important here, finding Harry’s killer.”
TWELVE
They arrived at the Bloomfield post office a little before noon, just beating the Saturday hours. The one postal worker still behind the counter was about to close up when Ella produced the warrant.
In a rush to leave for the weekend, he asked Ella to sign a receipt and quickly gave her the rubber-banded stack of mail that had accumulated.
Once back inside the tribal SUV, Ella had Justine roll down the windows as she sorted through the stack. “There’s only one credit card bill, so I think Harry may have used that card exclusively.”