Enemy Way

by Aimée

  “Look into it anyway,” Ella repeated stubbornly.

  “If you think skinwalkers engineered your mother’s accident, shouldn’t we have someone keeping an eye on her?”

  Ella shook her head. “I really don’t think it’s necessary. Mom will be safe at the hospital. There are people constantly around her. And she’s been trying out those crutches. If Mom suspected someone was after her, she’d leave that room and go for help. She sees things like that coming, remember?”

  Despite her confident words, Ella decided to ask Carolyn to watch over Rose and remain vigilant for signs of trouble. If the accident had been instigated by skinwalkers, Ella could expect them to live up to their reputations as masters of camouflage.

  Ella parked in the visitors parking area on the north side of the high school, the same parking lot where the gang violence had taken place yesterday, then walked through the big double doors. Classes were in session, and the halls were empty.

  The moment they stepped through the office doors, Principal Andy Duran came out his office to meet them. A secretary looked up curiously, then returned her attention to her computer terminal. “Come in,” Duran said, gesturing by cocking his head. A slender, athletic man in his early sixties, Duran had taken over the principal’s job after teaching shop in Shiprock for many years. Ella knew who he was, but she’d never been in any of his classes back when she went to Shiprock High.

  As they sat down, Principal Duran closed his door, glanced through his window at the parking lot, then took a seat behind the massive oak desk. He then reached for a sheet of paper resting facedown on the top of his in/out file and handed it to Ella. “I took a chance and compiled this for you. I figured you’d want names and addresses of the kids we know or suspect are in the gangs. You’ll find them there, and their gang affiliation. I had help from my staff on this, but don’t ask who. I would prefer, for legal and other reasons, that you never disclose that this list ever existed. The only reason I’m giving you this is because I’m more worried about the safety of the kids than getting sued.”

  Ella nodded in agreement as she looked over the list. She was grateful that he had the guts to stand up to the legal threats that seemed to be hamstringing so many public schools in New Mexico. But it was also clear that he wanted them out of there as quickly as possible. “I know you keep a tight rein on student behavior, but what’s the atmosphere like here at school today? What are the kids saying about what happened?”

  Duran shook his head and shrugged. “The responses are as varied as the students. Some are scared that this happened here, but most of them are taking it in stride, and I think that worries me more than anything else. It’s that acceptance of the violence that stuns me and a lot of the staff. I remember what it was like years ago when you went to school here, Ella. We had our problems then, but never anything like this.”

  Duran stood and began to pace. “I’ve also heard that a few kids wanted to quit the Many Devils or the North Siders, but found out the hard way you can’t do that. The other kids in the gangs turned on them. George Nahlee came in yesterday morning with a thousand bruises. I asked him what happened, but you know how far that got me. He’s not at school today.”

  Ella and Justine exchanged glances. “Have you called his parents?” Ella asked.

  “Parent. He lives with his mother,” Duran said with a nod. “Off the record, she wasn’t much help. She’s heavy into denial. Her kid can do no wrong. George told her that he fell down the bleachers on the football field, and she refused to believe anything else.” He started for the door. “Forgive me for rushing you, but your presence here is likely to escalate the trouble we’re trying to control. I’d prefer if you were off campus before the classes change.”

  “The moment kids were assaulted with knives and baseball bats, you lost the right to handle this matter on your own and make those kind of requests. Police involvement is mandatory, and that asphalt out there is a crime scene. Let’s just hope it doesn’t get worse before it gets better,” Ella said, and then she left with her assistant.

  As they returned to the Jeep, Justine gave Ella a wary smile. “I think what you said at the end really hit home with Principal Duran.”

  “Good. That’s what I meant to do. He and a lot of other people are living in a dream world if they think they can handle this like they would a couple of kids who got into a fist fight in the locker room. It’s gone too far for that.”

  “Do you want to stop by Mrs. Nahlee’s?”

  Ella shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t think it’ll do much good. Let Neskahi work the street first. He’s a good cop. Let’s see what he digs up.”

  As they got into the Jeep, the radio crackled and Ella’s call sign came over the air.

  “Please respond to a ten–twenty-seven–one by the petroglyphs south of the Hogback Trading Post.”

  The three-part code alerted her before it even reached the last digit. A homicide. Ella felt her body tense. “Who found the body, and has an ID been made on the victim?”

  “Officer Michael Cloud responded to a call from Mrs. Archuleta, the wife of the trader. She’d been out there picking herbs for the trading post. No ID on the victim yet.”

  “Ten-four.”

  Ella replaced the mike. “I just hope it isn’t one of the kids involved in that fight yesterday.”

  Justine switched on the sirens as Ella pressed down on the accelerator. When they passed the trading post, one of several in that area of the Rez, Ella slowed down. Going off road here required a sharp eye for obstacles that could disable their vehicle. The ground was strewn with boulders and sharp rocks that could rip out an oil pan.

  “Up ahead, to the left,” Justine pointed out the Navajo Police vehicle.

  As Ella parked, they saw Officer Michael Cloud. He was standing with his back to the petroglyphs, facing away from the crime scene, and it looked like he’d just lost his breakfast. “I don’t like this,” Ella observed. “Something’s really wrong. It’s not like Michael to be squeamish.”

  Cloud came to meet them as they stepped out of the Jeep. “It’s pretty damned bad,” he said, shaking his head. For a Navajo, he was awfully pale.

  “Do you recognize the victim?” Ella asked, curious about his strong reaction.

  “No. I doubt his family would either. I think it’s a boy about sixteen, tops.”

  “Gang-style clothes?”

  “Yeah. He has the red T-shirt and a white web belt with the Many Devils gang sign on it.”

  Ella felt a sinking feeling centering in her stomach. They’d need a hefty dose of courage to view the body if it had affected a seasoned cop like Michael so badly.

  Justine gave her a worried look. “I’ll call the ME”

  “I’ve done that already,” Michael said.

  Ella took a deep breath. She could make out a body beside the rock face but, at that distance, it was impossible to tell more.

  As she approached, Ella tried to look confident, though she was mentally preparing herself for the worst. But, as she reached the victim and got her first good look, Ella felt the world start to spin. Turning away, she took several gasping breaths.

  Justine, who’d come up beside her, froze to the spot. “Oh, crap.”

  “If you think you might be sick,” Ella warned, seeing the pallor on her assistant’s face, “get away from the scene.”

  “I’m not going to be sick,” Justine said flatly. “I can—” Suddenly she took off running.

  Alone, Ella wiped away a stray tear that had rolled down her cheek. The boy’s kneecap and most of his knee joint was missing, destroyed by a large-caliber bullet or shotgun blast at point-blank range. Though the body was facedown, she could see bloody bones protruding sideways through the pant leg and skin. It was impossible to make a visual ID, because half of the victim’s head was missing. It had been obliterated in an execution-style killing. After seeing this, Ella leaned toward the shotgun theory.

  Crouching by the body, Ella smoothed the pai
r of disposable gloves she’d put on and looked around. Some coins had fallen from the boy’s outturned pockets, indicating that if robbery was the motive, they didn’t take all the money. There were mostly quarters, but the two old-looking silver dollars among them caught her attention. Ella called out to Justine. “Check the list of merchandise reported stolen during the recent burglaries for silver dollars, maybe part of a collection. One here is stamped 1873, the other is 1881. In particular, see if these were part of what was missing from the Aspass residence.”

  Working methodically while disturbing the site as little as possible, Ella searched the area in a precise pattern. Soon, her crime-scene team would arrive and photograph everything, and collect and mark all the footprints and evidence.

  While Justine and Officer Cloud taped off the perimeter, she studied the tracks around the body. The only athletic shoe imprints here were those of the victim. The other tracks were made by three different pairs of boots.

  The Fierce Ones would probably be wearing that type of footwear, most adults on the Rez did, but it didn’t make any sense that they’d be responsible for a crime so violent, not unless their vigilante tactics had gotten out of hand fast. From the pattern of the tracks, it looked as if two men had led the boy to this spot, holding him from both sides. A third had followed close behind.

  Hearing a vehicle, Ella turned her head and saw Carolyn driving up. While Cloud and Justine continued the search for evidence, Ella went to meet the ME. Tache and Ute would be here soon, too. They’d scour the area like the pros they were, and, hopefully, the scene would reveal something that would point them down a solid investigative trail.

  Ella filled Carolyn in as they walked back to where the body lay. Being careful not to disrupt the scene any more than necessary, Ella led Carolyn along her own previous path. “I need everything you can get me on this, as fast as you can.”

  Ella stopped when she was ten feet away from the body, and Carolyn continued. When the ME saw the victim for the first time, her eyes narrowed. She looked back at Ella. “It looks like they tried to kneecap him first to get him to talk. I doubt he would have done anything but scream, though, after that. This can’t be the work of other kids, can it? I don’t see those boys as being capable of this level of brutality.”

  “I honestly don’t know the answer to that. This is what terrorists and mobsters do to people. But on the Rez?” Ella leaned back against a tall boulder, feeling the cold of the rock seep through her clothing. Nothing made sense, and instinct told her that until she found some answers, things would continue to get worse.

  TWELVE

  Ella was driving home the long way to give herself time to think. It was 11:00 P.M. and the day had passed before she knew it. They now knew the identity of the murdered boy. George Nahlee, the boy who had tried to quit the gang. Had this been his payback? Justine and she had spoken to those in the gang that they knew about, trying to get a lead, but it was soon clear they could expect no help from the other gang members. As usual, Justine’s cousin Thomas had been out of the house, and her aunt didn’t know where he was at the moment.

  Though none of the officers had given out the details of the murder, the viciousness of the act had been hard to keep secret after the family had been called to identify the victim. Rumors were running rampant, and members of the press were calling the station constantly, asking for details and interviews. Particularly gruesome crimes always made the biggest headlines.

  Ella was halfway home when Billy Pete called on her cell phone. She pulled off the highway to talk so she could give the call her full attention without worrying about watching the road. She wanted to pick up every nuance of this conversation. It didn’t surprise her that the Fierce Ones would have heard about the latest killing. If they hadn’t been responsible for it, and she doubted they were, the question was how they’d react to the news.

  Billy had a question right away. “Do you think the boy was killed because he wanted out of the gang? That’s the word that’s going around. His own gang members had beat him up just the other day. Everyone at school saw the results.”

  “I don’t know yet, and it’s premature to even guess. Because it’s an open case, I couldn’t discuss it with you even if I knew.” Ella reminded.

  “If you don’t know why he was killed, then we can rule out robbery, which narrows it down. It’s a bit coincidental, don’t you think, that he tried to get out of the gang, and now less than two days later he’s dead, execution-style?”

  “What makes you think that was the way he died?” Ella asked.

  “I thought you might be handing that question back to me. It’s a great way of not confirming the facts without lying. So I guess my sources were correct. I’ll be talking to you later.” Billy concluded.

  “No, wait. Listen to me before you hang up. Righting this particular wrong isn’t the responsibility of the Fierce Ones. The police will handle this.” Ella pleaded.

  “You’re not doing a very good job so far. I bet you don’t even have a suspect.”

  “Every investigation takes time, but we do solve most of our cases, especially murders. The only help we want or need from the Fierce Ones on this is limited to the presenting of evidence or testimony.” Ella was adamant.

  “Who said you’re getting their help, or that I speak for them? I was calling out of curiosity.”

  “This late at night, on my cell phone? Don’t screw with me, Billy.”

  “The deaths, the killings, the gang violence, they have to stop, one way or the other.” He reminded her.

  “We’re working on it. The whole department is putting in long hours on the job. Just don’t interfere. You don’t want to help the killers by sidetracking us. We’ll have to investigate every incident—the ones you cause included. You’ll dilute our strength and muddy the water.” Ella said.

  “Interesting point. I wish you luck solving this quickly, then.”

  He hung up before Ella could say anything more. Ella got the number from dispatch and dialed the Power Plant. Billy Pete was not there at work, nor was he at his home, the number she dialed next. She decided to trace the call. The cellular phone company took a while, but was able to tell her the call originated from a pay phone at the Totah Cafe. He would be tough to track down, but Ella put out a request for any officer to hold and detain him until she arrived. She had a few more questions for Billy Pete.

  At least, hopefully, The Brotherhood wasn’t involved in the Nahlee killing. For that particular group of activists, trouble on the Rez from gangs would be a cause for amusement, not anger.

  Ella drove through the residential area where the Many Devils hung out, but it was quieter than it had been for days. Nothing like a couple of brutal murders to keep everybody off the street. There was no sign of any kids hanging out, and the only vehicles she saw were parked and appeared to be unoccupied. The discovery made her uneasy.

  Sensing trouble, despite the lack of people, Ella called in her location, and left her vehicle to check a few blocks out on foot. Her skin was crawling, and her blood racing. The badger fetish around her neck felt warm, a sign she had come to associate with danger.

  Fear crept into her, touching her on a primal level that made it hard for her to remain focused, despite her years of law-enforcement experience. Something within was warning her of the presence of evil, of skinwalkers, but there was no physical evidence Ella could detect to support the warmth she sensed from her fetish.

  Clipping her hand-held to her belt, and forcing the fears down to a level where she could deal with them, she walked down the street, listening and alert to danger. Though she had a flashlight in her hip pocket, she preferred not to light up her location.

  She was near the end of a cul-de-sac when a piercing, agonized scream rose in the air. Only absolute terror could have elicited that raw sound from a human. For a moment she stood frozen, beating back her own fear as she struggled to pinpoint the direction. As another, weaker sound followed, her training took over. Ella c
alled for a backup as she ran, gun in hand, toward the house at the end of the street. She went through an open gate and entered the back yard just as a shadowy figure ran out of the detached garage and leaped over the fence. Uncertain if it was man or beast, she raced after it. The outline had been hard to define, veiled by the darkness that surrounded her. But whoever or whatever it was had possessed the agility of an animal or an athlete, clearing a four-foot barrier cleanly. Peering over the fence cautiously, she saw nothing but an open field.

  Ella studied the area. To her surprise, she saw that no lights had gone on in the neighboring houses. Surely someone had heard the cry that had brought her here.

  Hearing a faint metallic scrape coming from the garage, and seeing the side door to it was wide open, Ella went forward cautiously. Only moonlight coming through the doorway illuminated the interior. Ella stood by the door for a moment, noting that, from the broken wood near the lock, it had been forced open. She entered low, gun ready, choosing again not to use the flashlight.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and felt a rush of air. She stepped back just as an ax swung down. It struck the concrete floor of the garage with a loud clank and a flash of sparks. “Police officer. Put down your weapon!” She yelled, jumping to the relative safety of the other side of the entrance.

  Her attacker replied with another swing of the ax, striking the doorjamb where she’d been standing only a few seconds earlier. Ella dove forward, and fired into the corner where her attacker had been standing. A faint grunt told her she’d struck her mark.

  As a figure staggered forward into the zone of light coming through the doorway, she heard a loud noise behind her. Ella spun around. A paint can rolled off the garage shelf onto the floor with a thump. A diversion. She turned to her adversary again, and caught a glimpse of a second person dragging the wounded man out the door. An instant later, the door slammed shut. Ella tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. The garage was now in complete darkness. The silence that followed had the same impact on her nerves as an ice cube suddenly pressed to the small of her back.