Enemy Way

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Enemy Way Page 29

by Aimée


  Blalock looked disgruntled, but agreed.

  He gestured to the photo Ella had given him. “It’s an ugly-looking thing, isn’t it,” he observed with distaste. “I’ll go ahead and keep it in my safe, but outside the Rez who would want to steal it?”

  “If the skinwalkers track it to your office, they’ll come for it.”

  “Skinwalkers? Here? I doubt that. They’d be off their home ground, and I know bullets will stop them. I shoot as well as you do, almost.”

  “They may consider raiding your office an acceptable risk in exchange for the chance to retrieve this object of power.”

  Blalock shook his head. “Are you ready to take these people down? Do you need backup?”

  “No, on both counts, at least not yet. Thanks for the offer. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to make my move.”

  As they left, Justine looked through the remaining photos of the doll. “This thing is really sickening,” she commented. “Are you going to fill me in on your plan now? Do I have a part in it?”

  “You’re in,” Ella assured. “I want you to cover me. We’re going back to the neighborhood Neskahi was in last night, where I joined him this morning, and that’s not a place I intend to venture in alone.”

  Justine shuddered. “Shall we wake the sergeant and have him come along?”

  “No. There’ll be plenty of time for him to get involved later, but give Big Ed a call and let him know where we’ll be, in case we need backup.”

  Ella stopped across the street from the Benally house, shuddering at the empty echoing feel of the abandoned neighborhood. “I want you to keep your distance and stay out of sight as much as possible, but try to keep me in view. I’m counting on you to watch my back.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “And watch your own, while you’re at it,” Ella warned.

  “Always.”

  Ella left the Jeep and walked slowly toward the door of the innocuous-looking wood-frame house, giving Justine a chance to slip out of the Jeep and get into place. Everything was quiet. She didn’t even hear birds chirping. She stopped in mid-stride and looked around. There was no other living thing in sight.

  She knew too much about her instincts to blame an overactive imagination for her uneasiness now, but there was no obvious logical reason for the way she felt. The house was ordinary, a simple one-story stucco, that looked like many other thirty-year-old homes on the Rez.

  Ella knocked on the door. Since this neighborhood wasn’t a stronghold of traditionalists, she had opted to approach directly rather than wait for an invitation. An elderly Navajo man came to the door. His weathered face looked as unyielding as a cliff face. His eyes gleamed out at her like dark coals.

  Ella pulled out her badge. “I’m looking for a relative of mine, Jane Clah. Do you know her?”

  The man’s face registered nothing. “I don’t know any woman by that name,” he said and started to close the door.

  Ella stepped forward, putting her foot out to block the door, just like an annoying salesman. “I have something that I believe belongs to her,” Ella continued, and pulled out one of the photos she’d taken of the doll.

  There was a brief flash of shock in his eyes and his expression changed, becoming hopeful. Yet that benign emotion somehow twisted his features, giving it an ugliness that unsettled Ella.

  “If that is hers, be assured that she will find you and get it back,” he said.

  “Then you do know her?”

  He shrugged, and started once again to close the door.

  Ella kept her boot in the way. “Do you know her?”

  “She will know that you are searching for her. That is enough. She will find you.” He smiled slowly. It was not a nice smile. “Maybe she’s already paid you a visit.” He swung the door, and Ella stepped back to protect her foot. The door banged shut.

  A cold wind whipped against her. It was her imagination of course, but she felt as if icy fingers had stroked her cheek—the greeting of Death. Pushing that creepy thought to the far recesses of her mind, she walked back to the Jeep.

  Justine joined her a moment later, slipping through a fence a couple of houses farther up the street. “There’s something weird going on in that house. I stood where I could see both front and rear doors, and the moment you left, a potted plant was set out on the back step, and the porch light was turned on. It’s daylight.”

  “I expect this is a skinwalker’s place, and a contact point for many others. Whoever killed George Nahlee and Shopper might live at that house, or at least visit there often.”

  “They would all know who the murderers are.” Justine shuddered. “What are we going to do?”

  Ella looked carefully in all directions before she pulled out onto the highway, glad to leave the neighborhood behind. There was something easily identifiable about a place of evil. Even the Anglos in their pragmatic world felt it, though they seldom admitted it openly. Nobody wanted to buy homes marred by tragedies or violence.

  To combat what lay ahead, Ella knew she’d have to outthink her enemies and use every trick she had in her arsenal. “I’m going to find Clifford.”

  “Why?”

  “I won’t turn over the doll to the skinwalkers under any circumstances, but they’re sure to want it back. Maybe we can trade, in exchange for learning the killers’ identities. My brother is the only person I know who could make a duplicate of it for us that might actually fool them into thinking it’s the original.”

  “You think he’ll do it? It’s got to be against all his beliefs.”

  “It’ll take a lot of convincing,” Ella admitted, “but I’ve got to get him to agree. I want whoever murdered those boys, and the only thing I’ve got to trade is the doll.”

  “They won’t sell out any of their own.”

  “That depends how badly they want the doll, wouldn’t you say?”

  Justine considered it. “Yeah, you’re right. A lot of them got their power by selling out a loved one—maybe even killing them. One more life or two, if the price is right, won’t make that much of a difference to them.”

  As Ella drove up, the wind blew against the blanket that covered the hogan entrance, and she saw Clifford working inside. “Wait for me here. I have a better chance of convincing him if I go in alone.”

  Ella left the vehicle as her brother stepped out of the hogan and waved for her to come in. Ella entered and sat down on the sheepskin rug. “I’ve come to ask you a huge favor.”

  “Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask,” he said, sitting across from her.

  Ella fished a photo out of her shirt pocket. “I need you to make a duplicate of this.”

  He took the photo, looked at it, then bolted to his feet, throwing it back at her. “Get that filthy thing out of this place. How can you ask something like that of me?”

  Ella stood up. “I’m truly sorry, but it’s my only chance to stop the bloodshed. I need the ones who killed the gang members, and this is my only trump card. Even if I can’t get them to give me the killers in exchange for the doll, I can at least stop the killings. If they think they’ve retrieved the doll, they won’t have a reason to murder the kids. They want the real doll back, of course, but I can’t give that to them. It’s evidence.” Before her brother could speak she added, “I know, it’s more than that, too. There are principles that go beyond the ones I’m sworn to uphold.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

  “You’re the only one I know who can make a duplicate that might look and feel real to them. You’d think of things that no one else would even consider, because you’ve dealt with skinwalkers before.”

  “I know our enemies, that’s true enough, but you’re practically asking me to partake in their rituals. That’s real hair on that doll and the blood stain in the center is human blood from a vanquished enemy. I couldn’t ask anyone else to give me the samples I’d need to construct a duplicate. The hair, the blood, all would have to come from me. And, if they knew
that, their magic could be more effective against me.”

  Ella’s mouth dropped open slightly. She hadn’t anticipated this. “Can’t you use horsehair and animal blood?”

  “They would know in an instant, as I would, if the positions were reversed.”

  “If I can pass it off as real, for even a short time, I might be able to ID some of the skinwalkers. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  “If they get their hands on an obvious fake, they’ll know immediately. It won’t feel right, and one glance will confirm their suspicions. Don’t underestimate them.”

  “What about using my hair and blood? I don’t have the kind of power that could be used against me.”

  “No, little sister. Whether you believe or not, what you’re asking would make you more vulnerable to them than you already are. That would be too dangerous when you’re depending on being able to deceive them.”

  Ella knew she couldn’t ask Clifford to consider using blood and hair from a corpse. It was too close to skinwalker magic. Defeated, she reached out to pick up the photo. “Forget it then. You’re right. I didn’t realize what I was asking.”

  “Wait.”

  Ella turned around.

  “What about your father-in-law’s relative, the old woman? Have you found her?”

  “No, but she’s involved and, the way I figure it, she’s my relative, so it’s up to me to stop her. The problem is that I can’t close in on her. Trying to get to her has been a bit like trying to carry water in your fist. The more pressure you exert, the more slips through your grasp.”

  Clifford held her gaze for a moment, then said, “I will construct the doll you need. But afterwards, you must promise to do your best to bring it back to me.”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to retrieve it. You’ve got my word,” Ella said, silently acknowledging the sacrifice her brother was agreeing to make. According to his beliefs, Clifford was allowing some of his power to fall into the hands of his enemies. He was risking a great deal for this chance to stop the killings.

  More worried than ever, Ella drove back to the station and rounded up the last member of her chosen team. Neskahi seemed well rested and was eager to take part in the operation.

  “It’ll be only the three of us. The fewer who know, the greater the chance we’ll have of pulling it off,” Ella said. “But I’ve contacted the Cloud brothers and they’ll be patrolling in the area. If we need more backup, we’ll have it.”

  “We’re going to stake out that house?” Neskahi asked.

  Ella nodded. “I’ll be positioning myself in one of the unfinished buildings behind the home, and Justine and you will find hiding places on either side of the front of the place. You’ll be in two adjacent abandoned houses, probably. I want to have a clear view at every side of that house. We’ve made our move, now they’ll make theirs. If there’s any kind of ceremony or gathering there tonight, I’m sure Jane Clah will show up.”

  “What makes you so certain?” Neskahi asked.

  Ella recounted her meeting with old man Benally at the house. “I believe they’re the ones who have taken Thomas Bileen. The Fierce Ones would have left him alone, once he was in our custody, so it couldn’t have been their operation. I believe Thomas is still alive, and that they plan to use him as a bargaining chip to get back what was stolen from them.”

  “So, we’re looking at a potential hostage situation,” Justine said, “with my cousin in the hot seat.”

  “Yeah,” Ella answered. “Get infrared scopes and everything you think we might need for an all-night stakeout.”

  “Of course all night,” Neskahi said with a grin. “Nobody on this team ever sleeps at night.”

  “Hey, where else could you get all this excitement?” Justine muttered cynically.

  As Ella filled out the paperwork they needed for the equipment, Justine’s words stayed in her mind. She’d joined the FBI for that same sense of excitement, though she’d tried to couch it under a lot of nobler sentiments. She had hoped to make a real difference through her work, that was true enough, but she’d also known that, to her, a nine-to-five job would have meant dying by inches. She needed the adrenaline rush that came with uncertainty that was so much a part of police work.

  Ella picked up the phone to call her mother and check on her, but then set the receiver back down. She had time. She’d go and visit instead. If only she could figure out a way to balance her business and personal life!

  Leaving Justine with instructions to do whatever was necessary to get things ready, Ella drove home. A weariness that had nothing to do with physical sensation seeped through her. The gray clouds that filled the skies above added to her low spirits. It was so clear-cut on television—cops followed their professions with the kind of clarity of mind and singleness of purpose that only religious zealots possessed. But the reality of the job was measured more in losses than in wins. The trick lay in the ability to keep going in spite of overwhelming pressures, and impossible odds.

  As Ella walked inside the house, she saw her mother sitting alone near the window, staring outside. Rose’s loneliness touched and enveloped Ella.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  Rose nodded. “Why are you home so early? What has gone wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just came by to see how you were doing since I’m going to have to work late tonight,” Ella replied, noting her mother’s crutches were on the floor beside her. “How have you been getting around today?”

  Rose shrugged. “I’ve been doing fine, except that Two has been a bit nervous around my crutches. He tried to haul one away while I was having lunch. I can’t wait until I get rid of them completely.” Rose met her daughter’s gaze. “But something is bothering me. It’s more than a mood created by the dreariness and cold outside, too. There’s something bad brewing out there, Daughter. You feel it, too, don’t you?”

  Ella nodded. “There’s going to be a lot happening before the night is over, Mother. Will you be all right tonight without Loretta or me to help you?”

  Rose waited for an explanation, and when none seemed to be forthcoming, she sighed softly. “I can fix my own supper, and take my bath without anyone else’s help, thank you very much. But since I can’t watch over you, you’ll have to watch yourself. Keep your badger fetish close at hand, and trust the instincts you’ve inherited. We’ve made powerful enemies throughout the years. Although they’re out to destroy all of us, you’re leading the way, so it’s you they want to take care of first.”

  “I know.” Ella admitted. “But I’m not alone. I work with some good cops.”

  “I still worry about you, Daughter, but this police work is what you were meant to do. We need you to stand and fight for us.”

  Stunned by her mother’s words, Ella went into the kitchen to make some coffee for her thermos bottle. She’d never thought she’d live to see the day when her mother would actually advise her to continue being a cop. Ella mulled it over as she made sandwiches to take along on her stakeout, then she said good-bye to Rose and walked out to her Jeep.

  * * *

  When Ella arrived at the station, Neskahi was on his way out carrying two rifle bags. “Any problems getting the equipment we need?” Ella asked him.

  “None at all. Everything’s set. Justine has your gear ready and waiting in the office.”

  “That’s great. I made us sandwiches and coffee. But we’ll all have to slow down some. I want it to be completely dark before we move in to take our positions.”

  “We’ll be ready whenever you say the word.”

  As Ella walked down the hall toward her office, Justine rushed out to meet her. “We’ve got big trouble. The Many Devils heard that Thomas is missing and blamed it on the Siders. They ambushed them at the Valley Elementary basketball slabs, and two of our officers are pinned down in the crossfire.”

  “Let’s go. It sounds like the powder keg between those two gangs just blew up.” Ella’s face was grim.

  NINETEEN

 
; Ella drove the Jeep while Justine followed in her own vehicle with Sergeant Neskahi. They had all armed themselves for a firefight. Hopefully, the boys would realize that they were outgunned and outclassed and give it up. Somehow, Ella doubted that would happen.

  The only advantage she could see to this situation was that at least now they had most of the remaining active gang members together in one place. One of the first officers on the scene had positively identified Ernest Redhouse, the leader of the North Siders.

  As Ella approached, she evaluated the tactical situation. One cop was lying facedown on the pavement beside his unit, and the other, across the road from him, was crouched behind the hood of his vehicle, which was parked sideways on the road.

  The two officers had converged on the scene, blocking the escape of the old sedan between them with three boys inside. The neighborhood was on North Sider turf. It was easy to guess that the Many Devils had come in the old sedan for a drive-by, targeting the North Siders’ meeting place, the outside basketball court.

  The Siders must have spotted the car and ducked inside the cinderblock public rest rooms adjacent to the road. They were firing through the doorways and two small windows which had been knocked out.

  Ella swung the wheel, hopped the curb, and parked perpendicular to the downed officer’s car, placing him in the shelter of the L formed by their two vehicles. Justine pulled in from the other side, making the L into a U. They now had protection on three sides.

  By the time Justine and Neskahi were out of their vehicle, Ella was in position behind the engine block of her Jeep, ready to provide cover fire with her shotgun.

  Justine, crouching down, made her way to the fallen officer’s side. “It’s Dodge,” she yelled. “He’s been hit in the lower arm and leg by small-caliber bullets. I’ll try and stop the bleeding.” Justine opened her first-aid kit.

 

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