Red Mesa
Page 28
He smiled. “You look great, Ella,” he said, giving her a once-over. “Where have you been all my life?”
It was so uncharacteristic for Harry that Ella didn’t exactly know what to say. “Hey, beneath the police person there’s a lady. Did you doubt it?”
“No, but I never thought about it much until now.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ella said.
He grinned. “Okay, ready to get to work? Let’s take my sedan. Your tribal unit is a dead giveaway to anyone who’s seen you in it.”
“At least it’s not marked. I should also tell you that I won’t be able to stay out of contact for long. I didn’t tell dispatch or the chief because I’m assuming you still want to stay undercover.”
“You bet. Thanks. Until I’ve got Samuel Begaye in handcuffs, I doubt my status will change.”
“I’m really hoping that Begaye might know something about Justine’s killer. It’s a slim hope, but it’s all I’ve got,” Ella said.
“That’s why I called you. With luck, I’ll have this slippery sucker in custody before dinnertime.”
After reaching the mall, they matched frequencies on their handheld radios, then split up. Ella took the north side of the mall, and Harry the south. If Begaye was here, they’d see him soon as they moved from opposite ends.
Ella had just reached one of the shoe stores when she saw Begaye and his wife, Jean, standing near a side entrance. She called Harry on her handheld, ducking into the store as she did, then moved forward cautiously.
Before she could get close, she felt a gun pressed to the small of her back. “Don’t turn around, just walk out with me. And keep your eyes straight ahead.” She didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but it could have been a Navajo.
Ella saw the anger on Begaye’s face as she walked past him and was forced outside. She’d lost one suspect, but right now she had another perp to worry about. Maybe, if she could turn the tables on her captor, she’d still be able to find Begaye before he left the area.
Suddenly the man behind her pushed her forward hard, right into the path of a shopper’s van. Ella rolled quickly out of the way, escaping the squealing tires only by inches. She scrambled to her feet instantly, but by then the van driver had stopped, and people were gathering around her. Ella looked around, but had no idea who might have been her would-be killer. No faces looked familiar in the crowd.
By the time she broke away from the confusion and made it back inside the small shopping mall, both Harry and Begaye were gone. Ella tried to raise him on the radio, but got no response. Either he’d switched off the unit or the signal was blocked.
Worried about him, she searched the entire area, including the parking lot, but there was no sign of either man, and Harry’s vehicle was gone. Ella knew that Harry could be in trouble, but she wasn’t sure how to help without blowing his cover. She decided to wait it out, and if Harry didn’t contact her very soon, she’d phone in a situation report to the Marshals Service.
Ella was driving back to Shiprock when she noticed a beatup sedan about a quarter mile behind her. It paced itself well, neither advancing or gaining on her despite other cars passing or being passed. Curious, she kept checking on it, wondering if the driver was tailing her or simply on the same road moving at the same pace.
Finally she turned off onto the old highway, which led through the farming communities just north of the river. Finding a large cottonwood tree just around a curve, she pulled off quickly and used the tree as cover.
The sedan continued down the narrow road, seemingly uninterested in her disappearance. Yet as it passed by, she caught a glimpse of the person inside. It was Jean Begaye, Samuel’s wife. She remembered the woman well, because Jean had attacked Justine and her when they’d arrested her husband.
Flashers and sirens on, Ella pulled her over. As she called dispatch, she also wrote down the vehicle tag number and identity of the occupant on her notepad.
Raw hatred shone in Mrs. Begaye’s eyes as she got out of the car and placed her keys on the top as Ella ordered. “What? Was I going too fast?” she snapped. “Are we even on the reservation here?”
Ella saw the flicker in her eyes. Jean was goading her, daring her to prove that she’d just come back from meeting her husband.
Ella would have preferred having a cover officer, which was procedure when making a possible felony stop, but decided to do the next best thing.
“Move away from the car now,” Ella ordered, then handcuffed Jean to a speed-limit sign before frisking her for weapons. Next, Ella checked the interior of the car, satisfied that Jean couldn’t run away or attack. The inside of the car was empty, except for a purse on the seat and a shopping bag from a mall clothing store. The purse didn’t contain a weapon, Ella noted without having to remove any of the contents.
Grabbing the car keys from the roof of the car, she opened the trunk carefully, crouching down low and to one side. She’d heard of a cop being shot from the inside once. The trunk was empty except for a worn, flat-looking spare, bumper jack, and a set of jumper cables.
Jean laughed at Ella’s caution. “You think I was hiding my husband in there?”
“What makes you think I’m after your husband?” Ella shot back.
“So you’re after me now?” She laughed. “Tell me, what law have I broken?”
“Aiding and abetting an escaped federal fugitive.”
“Really? And what are you going to use for proof?”
“I saw you with him at the Farmington Mall. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Of course I’ll deny it. That means you’ll have to prove it, and that’ll be tough for you. The way things are going for you lately, your word isn’t worth much now, and it’ll be worth nothing at all once the cops prove you killed your cousin.”
“Don’t count on it,” she said, uncuffing Jean from the sign, then cuffing both the woman’s hands behind her back and leading her to the tribal unit. “I bet one of the stores at the mall has you two on a security tape. With that in mind, I’m taking you into custody.”
Ella recited Jean her rights, retrieved the woman’s purse, and locked up the vehicle. She then headed back toward the station with her prisoner. It was possible that Jean Begaye knew something that could help her find Harry, and maybe even Justine’s killer. But until she had more leverage, getting any information from her was going to be next to impossible.
“You’re going to be facing a murder charge soon yourself,” Jean goaded. “Then you’ll have a firsthand look at what my husband has had to go through in jail. But it’ll be worse for you. You’re going to have a lot of enemies in prison, don’t you think?”
“Your husband is guilty of murder. You know it as well as I do. Half the bar saw him, and was willing to testify.”
“There were circumstances you never took time to find out about, things the others didn’t know about either. My husband was fighting for his life. It was self-defense.”
“He started the fight, and he killed a man over a spilled bottle of beer. How much of that was self-defense?”
“I hope they hang you.”
“They only do that in Utah, around here. I hope you won’t be disappointed, but there hasn’t been an execution in New Mexico for decades.”
After that exchange, they rode in silence. Ella considered her options. She would have Neskahi question Mrs. Begaye. He’d have better luck with her. She’d also ask him to follow up on the videotapes from the Farmington mall. He was the perfect choice since he already knew about Samuel Begaye being in the area, having been the one who spotted the bank-robbery vehicle Begaye was believed to have used in the job.
As she pulled into the station and brought Mrs. Begaye inside, the somber faces of the officers at the front desk and booking area told her there was something new going on. It didn’t take intuition to know that she could expect more trouble.
After she finished processing Mrs. Begaye, Ella went to find Neskahi and found him in the squad area known as the pigpen, filled w
ith desks and chairs but no private offices or partitions. He was at a desk talking to Agent Payestewa.
As she approached, Payestewa excused himself quickly, giving her a curt nod as he left the room. Ella gave Neskahi a puzzled look. “What’s going on with Paycheck?”
“The Feds are running in circles around here. Paycheck is of no help here except to keep us warm by breathing down our necks. At least Blalock has learned how to work with the department.” He shook his head. “Never mind. That’s not why you’re here. What do you need?”
She told him about Jean Begaye, and his expression perked up. “I’ll interview her. If she has any pertinent information, I’ll get it.”
“Thanks.”
As he walked away, Sergeant Manuelito approached her. “You’re only damaging Neskahi’s career by having him help you. When you go down, your reputation will stain his.”
“Thanks for your professional objectivity on this case,” Ella snapped.
He scowled at her. “I’ve heard that you’ve been taking the law into your own hands for years. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time talking to you now.”
“Why are you so happy that one of your fellow officers may be dead and another is facing trumped-up charges?” Ella asked. “What did I ever do to you except perform my job?”
“I’m not happy about Goodluck’s murder, but it was your influence here that kept me from getting the promotions I deserved. I should have made lieutenant by now, or even had your job.”
“I had nothing to do with that. My guess is Big Ed also knows that your arrogance and your blind adherence to procedures prevent you from being more than a mediocre cop. Like now,” she added pointedly.
“Good police work is done by the book. You like to make up your own rules as you go, and that’s what’s going to take you down. You’ll destroy yourself, Clah, and I’m just going to stand by and watch.”
As Manuelito walked away, Ella realized how much resentment he harbored. No amount of logic would get through to him now. He was her enemy, pure and simple. With luck, she wouldn’t be put in any situation where she had to depend on him.
Seeing her walking back toward her office, Big Ed stopped her in the hall. “We have to talk, Shorty. Can you come to my office?”
Ella followed him, knowing, deep down, that he was about to deliver even more bad news.
“Have a seat,” he said, as he went to his desk.
Ella took a chair and waited. Big Ed said nothing for several moments. Ella realized that he was having a difficult time getting started, and that was not a good sign.
“You’re an important part of this department, and I want you to know that I intend to continue monitoring this investigation until your name is cleared. But in the meantime … well, things have to follow their own course.”
“I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
He exhaled softly. “We’ve received an anonymous tip that you’ve got evidence hidden in your office.”
“What? That’s crazy! Whoever made that statement obviously planted something in there. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“I know, and that’s what I believe, too. But this isn’t something that the police department can ignore. We’ve got the Tribal Council watching our every move.”
“So what’s going to happen? Have you already made a search?”
“Because it’s on our premises, and it’s part of internal affairs, you know we don’t need a warrant. So Blalock is in there now, and they’re turning it inside out. Now, think hard, Shorty. Is there anything they’ll find that’s going to create a problem?”
Ella shook her head. “Of course not—except for what someone may have planted in there. That’s not a reach either, especially since the call came out of nowhere. I haven’t locked my office for years.”
Big Ed was about to say something when Blalock came in. He looked at Ella and attempted a half smile. The gesture was so untypical that it made Ella’s skin grow clammy. Something was very, very wrong.
“Do you remember the one earring we found at the crime scene?” Blalock asked her and Big Ed.
Ella nodded, and saw Big Ed do the same.
“We found its partner. It was in your office, Ella. It was fashioned into a pendant and placed inside a hollowed-out book.”
“Take prints from that book. You won’t find mine on it, at least in the hollowed-out part.”
“If this is as good a frame as I think, it may be your book and your prints will be on it somewhere. Don’t jump the gun.”
“I want to see what you’ve found.”
They went down the hall together, and as they went into her office, she held her breath. Every drawer had been up-ended into a big pile on her desktop, and even the cushion on her chair had been checked.
“Show it to her,” Blalock said curtly, nodding to Payestewa.
The Hopi agent picked up a suspense novel with a gloved hand, then opened it.
Ella saw the hollowed-out interior and the pendant inside. “The book’s not mine. Fingerprint it. Then when you don’t find my prints, start asking yourselves why I would put that in my office and still wipe my prints off it.”
“Some killers like to keep trophies,” Blalock said. “That’s a well-known fact.”
“I’m a cop. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to put that in my office. And how would anyone be able to tell you that it was in there unless they’d placed it themselves? Can you track down the person who made the call?”
“We tried,” Big Ed said. “It came from a pay phone and there were too many prints on it to get anything we could use.”
Ella stared at the faces around her. “You know I had nothing to do with this. A defense lawyer would raise all kinds of reasonable doubt about a trick like this.”
Big Ed nodded. “But I’m still going to have to place you on administrative leave, and take your weapon and your badge. Leave your unit parked when you get home, and I know I don’t have to tell you this, but don’t travel out of the area.”
“My home and family are here. I won’t be far.” Ella removed her service pistol from its holster, unloaded it, then handed the handgun and her badge to the chief. She wanted to demand that they do something and help her fight this, but she knew she’d never manage it without her voice cracking.
Holding her head up, Ella strode out of the room. Anger made her hands shake. As she had when her father was killed, she would still investigate what had happened regardless of the consequences. Someone was out to get her, and now that she was no longer officially a cop, she didn’t need to follow any police procedures. It was time to find the truth, no matter what she had to do to get it.
Ella slipped into her vehicle, and as she started the motor, Neskahi came out, waving to her before she could pull out of the parking place. For a moment, hope filled her. “Did Mrs. Begaye tell you something useful?”
“Not exactly, but she said that before this was over, the department itself would be in chaos. She told me that once The People lost confidence in us, then we’d all feel the anger of those we’d sold out.”
“Huh? Is that political or revolutionary talk, or just BS?”
“Yeah, exactly. I have no idea what she was talking about either, but she was serious. I get the feeling that the entire police department is ultimately going to be the target of this frame, not just you.”
“Yeah, but I’m at the top of their list.” She thought of her cousin and how they would have worked the case together. They had different approaches to things, but that had always made them a strong team.
“I’m going home, Joseph,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve just been suspended. You’ll find out why from Blalock.”
“I’ll stay on it, Ella, and get those tapes to look at from the mall. You’ve got friends here. We’re not going to let anyone take you down. No way.”
Hearing him say it made her feel a little better. Friends were scarce when careers were on the line. “But watch yourself. If you’re
seen as my friend, then you could end up under the shadow that covers me now.”
“Cops take care of their own. We’ll handle this.”
As Ella drove home, she thought of Neskahi’s words. She knew that Blalock and Big Ed would give her every possible break, but what they needed was physical evidence, and the only thing that had come to the surface so far was what her enemy had planted for them to find.
There was only one way out for her now. She’d have to dig deeper. The key was still Justine. It had all started with her, beginning with the unraveling of their friendship because of her cousin’s sudden change in attitude.
When she drove up to her home, Ella saw that both Dawn and Rose were gone. Her mother had probably taken her along to one of her weaving classes. Dawn would play with the other toddlers and usually came back tired and sleepy, after having had a wonderful day.
Ella, relieved at the chance to be alone and not have to explain her suspension, went and checked her computer. There were no messages. Leaning back, she tried to think back to the very beginning. She was missing something. She felt it in her bones.
As she sat before the computer, her gaze unfocused, a small tone told her an instant message had just appeared on-screen. It was her informant, Coyote. The message was curt, as usual.
As she read the message, her skin turned cold.
You and the police are only one of many targets. The terrorist activity on the Rez last year marked the beginning of a plan designed to create chaos on the Navajo Nation. What I don’t know is what the ultimate goal of the conspiracy is, though it’s tied somehow to political power.
She typed a response, asking questions, but by the time she hit the send key, Coyote had signed off. Cursing her luck, she turned off the computer and stared at the blank screen, lost in thought again.
Ella knew she should tell Blalock, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him or anyone at the PD right now. Too restless to remain idle, she stood up and paced. The only person who would talk to her freely about Justine now was Wilson. He’d known Justine almost as well as she had. It was time for them to sit down like the old friends they were, and try to puzzle this out together.