by Aimée
“The summer storms have just started. People, particularly kids, forget, or don’t listen. I’ll let you know as soon as the EMTs make a report if there were fatalities or not.”
Ella sucked in a long breath. “If kids have died, the tribe will link it to this latest death here at this ill-fated church.”
Carolyn nodded. “They’ll say that our new generation is now being threatened. It’s going to create a panic.”
“And that will threaten everyone.” Ella felt the crushing weight of responsibility pressing down on her. “Maybe we’re borrowing trouble. It’s possible no one was seriously hurt.” But even as she said it, she could sense it wasn’t true. The air itself seemed to vibrate with a fundamental sadness that spoke of tragedies yet to come.
Ella shook free of the feeling, struggling to keep her mind on the crime scene as Carolyn left and Justine approached. “How are the trackers doing?”
“I just spoke to Susan,” Justine answered. “There were footprints cutting across the desert toward the college, but then the trail disappeared as he cut through some brush and a rocky canyon. Nelson’s dogs couldn’t follow it either after that point.”
“Anything else I should know about?”
“Mrs. Jim wants to leave. We have her statement, and before the EMT left he said she didn’t require further medical treatment, but she’s still very upset. I don’t think she ought to drive anywhere, but she won’t leave Wilma.”
“Wilma who?”
“Her car. The VW.” Justine smiled and shrugged. “Hey, maybe when you and I get old, we’ll name our cars like they’re old friends.”
“I’m already aging—by the second,” Ella answered, glancing at the scene.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Ella found an ATM receipt from the bank in Shiprock in Sadie Morgan’s pickup. The date and time indicated she had withdrawn sixty dollars from her account at 6:45 P.M., just a half hour before choir practice.
Walking back into the church, Ella found her assistant sitting on the floor, the contents of the victim’s purse spread before her. “Justine, how much money did you find in there?”
“About, let’s see, a dollar thirteen in change. I haven’t looked in her wallet yet.” Justine looked up at Ella curiously. “You think the Packrat took money this time?”
“It really doesn’t fit his M.O, but it’s worth checking. She should have about sixty-plus dollars with her.” Ella held out the ATM receipt for Justine to see. “Packrat’s always taken something, but never money, and the cross the victim wore around her neck is missing. Still, sixty bucks is a lot of money and a lot of temptation. Let’s see if Packrat succumbed.”
Justine opened the old leather billfold carefully by the edges, then whistled softly. Ella leaned over and looked inside. The money compartment was empty except for a small newspaper cartoon of the devil.
“Maybe Packrat left this behind for us in addition to the bone in her palm,” Justine said, using a pair of tweezers to pluck the cartoon out.
Ella had two evidence pouches ready, and Justine placed the cartoon in one and the wallet in the other.
“Check everything, including the purse, for prints. We might get lucky,” Ella requested. “We’ll also have to ask the others who were here tonight if any money changed hands. If not, then it looks like our killer may have taken up theft as well as murder.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Justine agreed.
“Packrat’s not waiting anymore for daylight to strike either,” Ella observed grimly.
Two hours later, the crime-scene unit began to pack up. The yellow tape line would remain in place, but for now the work here was finished. A wrecker had already hauled away Sadie’s pickup to be impounded.
The trackers and the officers who had responded earlier had cleared out some time go. Their services were needed to help search for victims caught in the flash flood. Ute and Tache had been the next to leave. Justine remained with Ella as she walked around the church, still searching for anything that would point her in the right direction.
“It’s getting late,” Justine said softly.
“Go home. I can take care of things here.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll stick around until you’re ready to leave.”
“Don’t you have to drop the evidence pouches off?”
“No, the crime unit took all that in.”
Ella stared at the pool of blood that had congealed and now stained the base of the pew. “He’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. Then we’ll take him down.”
Ella glanced at Justine and realized that the young woman was on the brink of exhaustion. “You wanted to work with me. Do you regret that decision now?”
“No,” Justine replied softly, too tired to evoke much more emotion than the gentle reply. “This is where I’m needed. That’s important to me.”
“And to me,” Ella admitted. “Come on. Let’s call it a night.”
They were just locking the side door when they heard a car pulling up. As Ella placed her hand on her pistol butt, she noticed Justine was also reaching for her weapon. Signaling for Justine to remain there, Ella moved noiselessly toward the front of the church.
Suddenly a young Navajo man dressed in black charged inside the church. “This place is a mockery!” he yelled. “It’s an insult to every Navajo. This is a place that belongs to us!”
The man was obviously playing to an audience, but the only ones there were Justine and she. Ella called out to him from the shadows. “This is a crime scene. Please step outside now!”
“This place is a crime, by its very existence!” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a long black dagger. Turning away from Ella he imbedded the blade in a tapestry depicting the birth of Christ and pulled it down, ripping the fabric.
Justine came out in a Weaver stance, her left foot slightly forward and her pistol in a steady two-handed grip. “Drop the knife. Now!”
The young man did as she ordered, but didn’t seem frightened that a pistol was aimed at his chest. “Can’t you see that this place is tainted? You should know that. No wonder there was a murder here.”
Justine handed Ella her weapon, forced the man against the wall, and frisked him.
Ella stood back, gun at the ready. “How do you know about the murder?”
“I was led here. I am a Navajo warlock and skinwalker.”
“A whaaat?” Ella resisted the impulse to laugh. It was like claiming to be a Baptist druid.
“I am in league with Satan and his demons. They brought me here tonight. They told me about the murder.”
“I don’t know how to break it to you,” Justine said, cuffing him, “but warlocks, devils, and the Christian god have nothing to do with skinwalkers.”
“I use all the entities that give me aid. Our own skinwalkers haven’t even dreamed of the power I hold.”
Justine glanced back at Ella, keeping her hand on the suspect leaning against the wall, and rolled her eyes. “What’s your name?”
“How can you not know who I am?”
“Humor me,” Justine snapped.
“I’m Anton Lewis.” The man was indignant. “You better release me right now. You don’t want the kind of trouble I can bring you.”
Ella moved forward, replacing her gun in the holster now that the suspect was cuffed. She handed Justine her own weapon since there was no longer a risk of Lewis’s making a grab for it. “Are you threatening a police officer at a crime scene?”
“I’m stating a fact. I am a powerful Navajo warlock, the first of my kind, but not the last. There will be more like me.”
Ella shook her head. “I’m going to radio for backup and let a uniform take him.”
Justine took the prisoner and followed Ella outside. As they waited for a unit to arrive, Justine made Lewis sit on the ground. Finally a patrol car approached, and Officer Leonard emerged. “I just came on duty. It’s a good thing too. All available officers from the evening shift are sti
ll at that drowning accident.” He looked at the cuffed suspect with obvious distaste. “Not you again, Lewis. I thought I told you to stay away from this church.”
“You know him?” Ella asked.
“He shows up on Sundays and Wednesdays once in a while and harasses the Christian worshipers. It’s his mission.”
Leonard grabbed Lewis’s arm. “Come on. I tried to tell you. Nobody’s interested in your smorgasbord religious doctrine.”
“I am who and what I am. That alone should refute your skepticism,” Lewis countered angrily.
“I’m me and you’re not. How do you like that?” Officer Leonard shot back.
Ella watched cop and prisoner argue all the way back to the squad car, grateful she wasn’t going to be riding with them. As they drove away, she and Justine walked to Lewis’s car, which not surprisingly was an old black hearse. “Get this impounded and taken to the station,” she told Justine, peering inside. “So much for the devil connection. He’s got a police scanner in here, and a list of 10- codes. He knew what was going on here.”
“What a nut case!” Justine said. Picking up her portable radio, she called in the request for a tow.
Ella rubbed her eyes, then stifled a yawn. “I’ve got to get some sleep.” She glanced at Justine and smiled. “And so do you.”
“Yeah. I think it’s time to wrap up for the night. Lewis will wait until tomorrow. Besides the obvious, what do you make of him?”
“I don’t know yet. But it is interesting how he scrambles skinwalker beliefs with the Christian counterpart, devil worship. That could account for the ash painting at the first crime scene not being quite right, and the medicine pouch full of weeds. It’s also interesting to note that the latest victim belongs to this church, whose members he’s harassed on a regular basis.”
“Sadie Morgan was a devout Christian, all right. But she was keeping our past alive, too, by teaching and preserving our language. If he wanted to kill cultural experts, and hates Christians, she was a perfect target.”
Ella shook her head. “But why kill cultural experts? So nobody can argue the illogic of what he claims to be? I don’t know.” Ella said finally, “We’ll dig up everything we can on Lewis tomorrow. Right now I’ve got to go check on my family.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, but thanks for the offer. Who’s assigned to watch them, do you know?”
“I think Officer Michael Cloud volunteered.”
“My family couldn’t be in better hands,” Ella said with a tiny smile. “He’s Herman Cloud’s nephew.”
“I figured you’d approve.” Justine walked to her car. “See you tomorrow.”
Ella drove home quickly, wondering how her family had reacted to Officer Cloud’s presence. Since Herman Cloud was a longtime family friend, she didn’t really expect much trouble.
Ella arrived home some time later and saw the patrol unit parked by the side of the house. She could barely make out the car’s shadow within the shadow of the house, but instinct told her that Officer Cloud was right there, watching over those Ella loved.
As Ella walked up to the front porch, lights came on, illuminating the front and backyards. Wilson had installed the motion detectors.
“I’m here,” Officer Cloud said, stepping out to meet her, “and I’ll be here until morning. Another officer will relieve me then, but I’ll be back in the evening. Your family will have ‘round-the-clock protection.”
“Who will relieve you?”
“There were plenty of volunteers, but my brother Philip will be the one who takes over for me here during the day.”
Ella smiled. “How did you two manage that?”
Michael smiled. “We weren’t allowed to guard our own uncle, like we’d planned, so we traded with Norman Bitsillie and Irwin Nakai for this post.”
Ella nodded. “I’m glad you two will be here,” she said, then walked inside her home.
Rose came out of the kitchen as soon as she came in. “I’ve been very worried about you. Something else has happened, right?”
“Yes.” Ella looked around. “Where’s Loretta?”
Clifford came into the living room from the hall. “She’s finally asleep. You can talk freely.”
Ella told them about the murder without mentioning Sadie except by references out of respect for their beliefs. To avoid summoning his or her chindi it was unwise to name the dead until four days had passed. “I know she was a friend of Wilson’s. I really don’t look forward to giving him the news, but I will do it tomorrow morning. I’d like him to hear it from me first.”
“I think he would appreciate that very much,” Rose answered. “But this is terrible,” she said, slipping down into one of the chairs. “The Dineh is losing its greatest treasures. Those who possess knowledge of old are disappearing. When is it going to end?”
Ella thought about the incident at the arroyo, but decided against mentioning it until she knew more. If children had died, then it would be said that along with the old and the knowledge they possessed, evil was robbing them of the very lifeblood of the future. She suppressed the shudder that touched her spine.
“Do you have a suspect?” Clifford asked.
“Yes, but I’ll have to check him out more thoroughly before I can be sure.” Ella told them about Anton Lewis. “Have you heard anything about this guy?”
Clifford nodded. “Some. He likes attention, that much I’ve learned, and he drives an old hearse, probably for that reason. I know he’s harassed Reverend Williamson, but he’s really singled out Reverend Curley. He’s the new church’s minister.”
“Is this Reverend Curley a Navajo?”
“Sort of,” Clifford answered with a trace of a smile.
“What do you mean by that?” Ella asked.
“By race he’s Navajo, but he was raised in a California city and knows absolutely nothing about his heritage and our customs.”
“Anything else you can tell me about Anton Lewis?”
Clifford considered it, his gaze fixing on something across the room. “Most just avoid him, but I do believe he has a small band of followers. Supposedly they look up to him and do what he asks.”
“Which says something about their intelligence.” Ella blinked the haze out of her vision. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper. “I need to get some sleep.” She glanced at her mother. “I assume you put our visitors in my room, right?”
Rose shook her head. “No. Your brother and his wife have my room. It’s larger than yours, and I figured they would be more comfortable in there. I’ll sleep on the sofa bed in your father’s study.”
Ella shook her head. “No, let me take that.” Ella suspected that her mother would feel restless in a room that had retained so much of her father’s personality. “You can use my room.”
Rose shook her head stubbornly. “You need uninterrupted, comfortable sleep time. Stay in your own room. I’ll stay in the den. Your brother did a Blessingway on everything after your father’s death. There’s nothing in there that can bother me.”
“Are you sure?” Ella saw her mom nod, so she continued. “In that case, I’m off to bed. I have to be up early, but I’ll try not to wake anyone.”
“I’ll be up at dawn,” Clifford said.
“I hope you’re not planning to go anywhere. You’re needed here,” Ella said.
“I’ll be around. Things are too critical. With Peterson at large, I won’t trust my family to anyone else. I know Michael and Philip Cloud, and I’m sure they’ll do their best, but this is primarily my responsibility.”
Ella walked slowly to her room. So many were counting on her! She needed to make progress soon. Her mother was right. The tribe couldn’t afford any more tragedies.
* * *
The following morning, Ella went to work early. By then she had the details of the other disaster that had taken place the night before. The newspaper reported the Packrat’s killing of Sadie Morgan, but most of the front page detailed the drowning deat
hs of almost an entire Navajo family. It coincided with a report Carolyn had given her.
Their pickup had become stuck in a deep arroyo and a wave of water from the thunderstorm had swept away five small children riding in the open bed and two teenagers in the cab. One small boy had survived somehow by clinging to a wheel of the overturned truck, but six were dead. The Tribal Council had called an emergency meeting to discuss ways of coping with the recent tragedy.
Ella’s mother and brother had read the accounts. Although a touch of fear had shone in their eyes, the only audible comment they’d made was their decision to keep the paper out of Loretta’s hands for now.
Shortly after nine, Justine walked into Ella’s office, folder in hand. “I’ve got the book on Lewis. He has no real record. He’s disrupted Sunday services, but Reverend Curley wouldn’t press charges.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Justine said.
“Let’s talk to Lewis first. We’ll have to release him soon, anyway, because the knife he had doesn’t check out as the murder weapon. Carolyn verified that it’s much too big and dull to have made the throat wounds. There is no physical evidence at all linking him to the crime, either. The church isn’t even going to make him pay for the damage to the tapestry. Did he ever ask for an attorney?”
“No, Lewis says he has nothing to hide, so he doesn’t need one.”
“Then let’s go ask our questions before he changes his mind,” Ella said, reaching for the phone.
Ella made a call to have Lewis escorted from the holding cell to one of the small interview rooms they used to question suspects. Ella met their prisoner there, then nodded to the officer who had brought him in handcuffed.
After Lewis’s hands were free, Ella asked him to sit down. Lewis stared at her suspiciously, then glanced at Justine, who stood leaning against the wall. “If you two think this is going to put you on my good side and I’ll make some dramatic confession, you’re wrong.”
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Lewis,” Ella warned, “and you’d be doing yourself a favor if you talked to us. There was a murder committed in that church a short time before you arrived.”