Death Walker

by Aimée

* * *

  Ella reached the Farmington airport shortly after ten, tired and sore. Her Jeep was still where she’d left it, and she strolled across the parking lot, enjoying the breeze. It felt good to be home. The nighttime air was cool, and she felt comfortable in the low humidity of the desert.

  Ella wondered if anything more had happened here during her long flight. She worried about Betty Lott, and the effects of Peterson’s influence on her. It bothered her to think he would try to corrupt someone so young, someone who was obviously no match for him or his games.

  As she parked next to her home, Rose came out to greet Ella. “I’m so glad you’re back early.”

  Ella felt the tension within her tighten. “Has something happened?”

  “No,” Rose answered. “I just didn’t like having you so far from the reservation. It reminded me too much of when you used to live away. I guess I was worried that you would remember too.”

  Ella picked up her overnight case and glanced at her mother, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t want you to start missing your old life,” Rose explained, walking with Ella to her room.

  “Actually, I missed my new life,” she confessed. “I belong here now. Back there in Georgia all I could think of was the work I left here, waiting.”

  “Ah, it’s not the reservation, but your work.”

  “They’re joined now, part of the larger whole.”

  Rose nodded slowly and smiled. “Well, you do sound more like one of us with each day that passes.”

  Ella retrieved her badger fetish from the floor, where it had fallen, and slipped it into her pocket. It belonged with her. She wouldn’t leave it behind ever again. Ella watched as her mother picked over the clothing she’d dumped out of her traveling bag, adding the few items to the weekly laundry. It was the time of year when running a washer and dryer was best done in the cool evening hours. In their own ways, they were both compulsive. Rose was meticulous about her home, Ella about her work. They should have understood each other years ago and forged the closeness they now shared.

  Sometimes, however, it took the passage of years to bring appreciation of what should have been apparent all along. Ella helped her mother carry the load of whites into the kitchen, where the washing machine and dryer were.

  “How’s Loretta doing?” Ella asked.

  “She’s being very careful, and not going out much. She went to the doctor yesterday, and they told her to keep doing what she’s doing.” Rose placed the clothes into the washer, then gestured toward the calendar. “By the way, Wilson Joe is coming for dinner Sunday. I’ve already invited him.”

  Ella looked at her mother. She should have expected this. Her mother was not the type to let the matter drop. “Carolyn could use some friendly company right now too. She has the loneliest job on the Rez. Can I ask her to come?”

  Rose hesitated. “Is it important to you?”

  “I would like her to come here and feel welcome. I know you’ve never really liked her, but she’s a very nice person.”

  “Women shouldn’t do what she does for a living.”

  “The same could be said for me,” Ella pointed out gently.

  “It’s not the same thing at all. She’s older, and has given up on ever having a family, for whatever reason.”

  “I don’t think Carolyn would agree with you. Besides, she lives her life the best way she knows how. I think it hurts her to have people treating her the way they do.”

  Rose considered it. “Yes, you may be right about that. She is as isolated as you were when you first came, only with her, it’s worse. She never left so she has no friends on the outside either.” Rose nodded. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You can call her then.”

  Ella smiled. She knew she could count on Rose’s mothering instinct. She’d never been able to withhold comfort or nurturing when she sensed she was needed. “I’ll call her from the office. I have to go in early. I’ll let you know if she’s coming as soon as possible.”

  Ella poured herself a glass of her mother’s tea, then stretched and yawned. “I’ll talk to Justine and Big Ed tomorrow. They’ll be glad to hear I didn’t need the extra time. But for now, I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “Good night, then, daughter. Sleep well.”

  Ella had just started back to her room when the telephone rang. Beside it already, she answered it.

  Justine’s voice came through clearly. “I was hoping you’d be home.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “You could say that. Peterson Yazzie has escaped.”

  Ella’s mouth fell open, but she gathered herself quickly. “When, and how?”

  “He must have had help from the inside. Dr. Kring is questioning his staff now. Peterson’s door was kept locked, but it was discovered wide open. I was told that only the head nurse and the guard have keys to the room.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They found the guard who patrols the ward knocked unconscious, and don’t have his story yet. They’re still searching for the nurse.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “About two and a half hours ago.”

  Ella felt the blood drain from her face. Just about the time she’d had that dream on the plane.

  After arranging to have officers patroling around her home, Ella hung up, her hands shaking. As she dialed Clifford’s number, she gave her mother a quick version of the news. Rose said nothing, but the lines around her face became more pronounced.

  “We’ll be okay,” Ella assured her.

  “He won’t touch us here,” Rose said firmly, and left the kitchen.

  Ella gave her brother the news, then called Wilson Joe. He, too, was in danger, having played a major role in Peterson’s capture. Although she tried hard to convince both men to accept police protection, neither accepted. She replaced the phone, still worried.

  Male pride was a difficult thing to combat. In her opinion, it often came at the expense of common sense. This time she hoped keeping their egos intact would not come at a price no one wanted to pay.

  * * *

  Ella was up early the following morning. She took the badger fetish from the nightstand and placed it inside her jacket pocket. She had no appetite this morning, but she couldn’t face the day ahead on an empty stomach. She went to the kitchen and quickly ate a bowl of cold cereal. As she finished the last spoonful, she knew she couldn’t put off what had to be done any longer. She picked up the phone and dialed the station.

  Ella checked first with the watch commander. The manhunt was well under way, and other police agencies were manning roadblocks all over San Juan County. Tribal forces had their roadblocks at reservation access points, and that was stretching the police protection planned for potential victims to the bare minimum.

  Ella checked with Big Ed next. A nurse at Hilltop Psychiatric Hospital, a young woman by the name of Isabel Fernandez, had been found. She’d been strangled, stripped of her uniform, her body hidden in a trash can. Ella felt sick to her stomach.

  Yazzie had somehow lured the nurse into his room, killed her, and assumed her identity. He’d used her lipstick to help his disguise. The guard apparently noticed the ruse, but was knocked unconscious before he could sound the alarm. With Yazzie’s long hair and the low lighting of nighttime hours, plus the nurse’s pass card to let him through the electronic locks, he’d managed to reach the main entrance. An unknown woman had arrived to pick Peterson up.

  Ella asked Big Ed to send an officer over to Naomi Zah’s. This would be a very dangerous time for Naomi and she wanted to make sure the stargazer hadn’t decided to remain at her hogan after all. Then she requested that someone be sent to check on the whereabouts of Betty Lott. It was possible she was connected to Yazzie’s escape. The girl certainly had given the impression she admired Peterson. Ella hoped she wasn’t involved in his escape, but it was worth looking into.

  Ella sat, trying to figure out what her next move should be. She saw a rolled-up newspaper o
n the counter. It was too early for the paper to have any news on Peterson’s escape, but she needed to keep current on their coverage of her other cases. Opening it, Ella read the headlines. Security preventing the release of specific details pertaining to the murders had been tightened. The reporter, however, had still managed to learn that the killer had left “undisclosed” items at each murder scene and taken other “undisclosed” items belonging to the victims. The reporter had referred to the murderer as the “packrat killer.”

  The name would probably stick now, and if her experiences with the bureau were any indication, the nickname would only serve to further publicize the killings. On more than one occasion, this had caused a killer who enjoyed publicity to increase the rate of his crimes. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time.

  By seven-thirty she heard her mother coming back inside the house, and Ella turned the paper facedown on the counter. “Mom, you shouldn’t go anywhere alone for a while. You know it’s dangerous now.”

  “I pick my herbs in the morning and keep my eyes and my senses attuned to trouble. No one is going to catch me unawares.”

  “That’s not the point. Anytime you’re outside in clear view you’ve placed yourself in danger. No herbs are worth that.”

  Rose’s eyes flashed with anger, and Ella realized that she should have used more tact. “Wait. Let me take that back. What I’m trying to say is that herbs aren’t worth risking your life. Wait until someone can be with you and keep watch.”

  “My herbs help all of us, including Loretta, who needs them now more than ever with her pregnancy. If someone is around when I need to pick them, fine. If not, it’s my duty to perform.”

  Ella knew this wasn’t an argument she’d ever win. “Okay. Just be careful. You know that we’re all in danger now that our old enemy has escaped. He wants revenge, and he’s very good with a rifle. Don’t ever forget that, because you can be sure he won’t.”

  Hearing a vehicle driving up, Rose went to the window. “We have company. It’s your close friend!” she added after a moment.

  At first, Ella thought her mother meant Carolyn, and she couldn’t figure out what Carolyn would be doing here at this time of day. As she looked over her mother’s shoulder, she saw Wilson Joe emerging from his truck. His rifle was in clear view in the gun rack behind the seat.

  “He must be worried to come out here this early. I’ll go meet him,” Ella said, hurrying out.

  Wilson walked up to the front porch and met Ella. “Have you heard anything else this morning?” he asked quickly.

  “Yazzie’s still at large. I just got off the phone a short time ago. Every cop in the county is looking for him, though. He killed a nurse while making his escape, so be on your guard. Have you changed your mind about wanting protection?” Ella added, knowing that she was in no position to offer him much help from the department at the moment.

  “No, I was just thinking that we all need to watch over each other now. You’ll be at work so you’ll have other officers around you. I’m alone at home and so is your mother when you’re not here, so I figured she and I could keep each other company when I wasn’t at the college.”

  Ella knew that the carefully worded statement had been for Rose’s benefit. They were both aware that she was listening to them through the open window. “You’ll have to see what she thinks, but I’m all for it. Our units are stretched very thin right now, so we can’t give anyone the kind of protection I’d like.”

  Rose came outside to the porch. “Come in, Wilson, please. Have you had breakfast? My daughter prefers cold cereal, but I could make you something more substantial.”

  Wilson smiled at Ella. “I get company and good food. You can’t beat that.”

  Rose smiled at him. “Then stay as long as you want. I’ll start breakfast for you.”

  As Rose went back inside, Ella looked pensively at the mesas surrounding her home. “He hasn’t been out long, but he’s already affecting our lives.”

  “Surely that doesn’t come as a surprise,” Wilson said.

  “No, but the way things are happening—well, it’s just so strange,” she whispered, speaking mostly to herself.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was just a dream I had,” she said, keeping her voice low. Ella definitely didn’t want her mother to overhear this. Dreams were sufficient cause to call in a Singer, or, it was believed, what was dreamed might come true.

  “Tell me about it,” Wilson insisted, coming closer to her and keeping his tone only a hint above a whisper.

  Ella was aware of the heat from Wilson’s body in the cool of the desert morning. Even thinking of the dream was chilling, and Wilson’s closeness was comforting. “It was really a nightmare, probably because I was under so much pressure.” Ella recounted the events, remembering how she’d missed her fetish then. “That poor French tourist, Mr. Meles, must have thought I had flipped.”

  Wilson gave her an odd look. “It’s strange that someone would be called that.”

  “Called what?”

  “Meles.” He shrugged. “I once wrote a college paper on the weasel family, for a vertebrate zoology class. Meles is the scientific name for a species of badger.”

  Her fingers coiled around the fetish in her pocket, Ella stared at Wilson in mute shock.

  EIGHTEEN

  Ella spent the rest of the day checking with the officers on the roadblocks, searching for signs of Peterson Yazzie. Betty Lott had been located, and according to witnesses, had not been the woman at the psychiatric hospital. Ella was still trying to track down Steven Nez, however. He was under suspicion for Dodge’s murder and remained at large. She was eager for a chance to compare Nez with Victor’s sketch, as well as question him. She wondered what kind of alibi he’d be able to give them for the crucial times.

  Justine met her in the police station’s parking lot. “I got a call from Sally Nez. She says that Steven asked to meet her behind the Totah Café. He’s almost out of money, and he’s scared. He thinks we’re trying to pin both murders on him. He’s heard about Peterson’s escape, too, and is afraid he’ll also get blamed for that. He’s desperate to leave the Rez.”

  “Did Sally agree to meet with him?” Ella asked.

  “She told him to call her back after she’d had time to think about it. Then she called me.”

  Ella smiled. “She’s trying to set him up, and I think we can oblige.”

  Justine shook her head. “Not so simple. I spoke to Big Ed about getting some officers so we could set up a trap for Nez using Sally as bait. He went ballistic. He said that there aren’t enough officers available and there’s no way he’s endangering a young mother on an operation like that. He’s taking too much heat on this case as it is.”

  Ella pursed her lips in thoughtful silence. “Then we’ll have to use trickery to reel him in.”

  “What have you got in mind?”

  “You and Cindi look a lot alike. Let’s use that.”

  Justine groaned. “I do not look like a teenager.”

  Ella shrugged. “If he waits for Sally but she doesn’t show up, then he sees Cindi having car trouble across the highway…”

  Justine nodded. “We need to find out what type of car Cindi would be driving.”

  “We still have Kee Dodge’s truck in the impound yard. Someone’s bound to have one like it.”

  “I’ll track one down,” Justine said. “But I do not look like a teenager.”

  Ella watched her cousin/assistant leave. While Justine was busy working out those details, Ella decided to go talk to Betty Lott. Even if she hadn’t been directly involved in Peterson’s escape, Betty had visited Peterson recently, and she might have known far more than she’d ever let on about his plans. She cursed herself for not pressing the girl more when they’d first met.

  Ella drove quickly across the reservation. She kept her police radio on maximum, hoping yet not expecting to hear that officers at one of the roadblocks had discovered Peterson Yazzie trying t
o get back on the Rez hiding in the back of a vehicle, or even driving one.

  But few calls came in. Even minor traffic accidents were now put on hold, and the involved parties were being instructed to exchange names and license numbers until officers became available again.

  Ella arrived at Anna Lott’s house and went to the door. Anna answered quickly, her face pale and her eyes red as though she’d been crying.

  Ella felt her scalp prickle with unease. “Hello, Anna. Do you know why I’m here?”

  “The Yazzie escape, I would imagine. But my daughter had nothing to do with that. Officers have already verified that with witnesses.”

  “I understand, but she still might know something. Peterson tried his best to influence her, and from what I could tell, did a very good job.”

  “That he did,” Anna conceded. “I hope you catch him and put the man in solitary for the rest of his life.”

  “We’ll get him, sooner or later. In the meantime, I need to speak to Betty. Is she home?”

  The young woman came out and stood a few feet behind her mother, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She was wearing a long skirt and bright orange cotton sleeveless blouse with some cartoon Stone Age characters embroidered on the pocket.

  “I’m here, but I can’t help you.”

  Ella walked around Anna. “Can’t or won’t?” she asked softly.

  “I’m sorry he escaped and killed that nurse. But I think he was forced into it.”

  “Betty!” Anna squealed, then turned to Ella. “She doesn’t mean it, really!”

  “Yes, I do,” Betty assured both women. “That mental hospital would drive anyone over the edge. He may be a disturbed man, but he was being watched and kept there like a wild animal. The fact that doctors and the courts decided he belonged there proves he’s not responsible for his actions, not really.”

  Ella met Betty’s gaze and held it. The young woman never looked away. “Your sympathy is misguided. He’s not insane, he’s just very smart, and a skillful manipulator.”

  “You’re too quick to pass judgment on him. He was right not to trust you.”