“Running on adrenaline?”
“Coffee, actually. Got a cup?”
The younger agent in front on the passenger side handed her a foam cup with a plastic lid. “Here you go,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “My name is Newberry. Ken Newberry.”
“Bless you, Agent Newberry.”
“Your chauffeur tonight will be Agent Martinez,” Newberry added.
“Detective Clah.” Martinez nodded.
“No need to get up, Agent Martinez,” Ella joked, then took a sip of coffee.
Just then Ella’s cell phone rang again, and she handed Blalock the cup so she could grab the device. Seeing the number register on the caller ID, Ella nodded to Blalock, who tapped the shoulder of the passenger up front. He put on a headphone set, then pointed back at Ella.
Signal given, she touched the button that made the connection. “Clah here.”
“So tell me, does Agent Thomas get to go home today?” Melvin asked.
Ella ignored the implied threat. “The district attorney says you have your deal on two conditions. First, Agent Thomas must be turned over in good shape, and second, your testimony in court has to lead to the conviction of Simmons and Krause.”
“And Betsy Weaver?”
“She’s on her own.”
“That’s not good enough. Without Betsy, the deal is off. You have ten more minutes to convince the DA.”
“Melvin, it’s the best you’re going to—”
Rainwater ended the call. Ella looked at Blalock as she took her coffee. “Did you get anything?”
“Newberry?” Blalock looked toward the passenger in the front seat.
Newberry was watching a small LED display on his lap. From where Ella was sitting, it looked like a street map of Shiprock. “We narrowed the area down by half, but still no exact location. There just wasn’t enough time,” the agent replied, looking at Blalock, then at her. “At least we know he’s not in a moving vehicle.”
“The transmitter inside that pen is our best chance of pinpointing his exact location now.” Blalock reached behind the seat and brought out a hard plastic box with a small monitor and headphone set. He passed it up to Newberry, who set his other equipment aside for the moment.
As Ella watched, the young tech switched on the unit, then put on the headset and set it to the frequency she’d given Blalock earlier. Again she could see a small grid with street names.
Blalock looked toward Martinez. “Go ahead and enter the neighborhood. Everyone needs to keep a sharp eye out for Rainwater’s vehicle or anyone watching out their window like they’re paranoid.”
Less than two minutes later, Newberry looked up again. “I’ve got something,” he said, then switched on a speaker so they could all hear.
Melvin Rainwater’s voice came through clearly a second later. “Andy, you still with me?”
There was a muffled sound.
“I’ll take that as a yes, Red. Hey, your friends are still tossing a coin, trying to decide if they really want you back. Looks like it’s going to be close. You hang in there, okay? I’ll be right back.” Melvin chuckled, then there was the sound of a door closing.
Ella watched through the gap between the seats as Newberry studied the screen. There was a red dot in the center of the display now, and a green dot, which was moving and getting closer to the red dot. Ella assumed the green spot represented their van, or more precisely, the receiver the tech was holding.
“It’s got to be right ahead.” Newberry looked up, then pointed out the window to his left as they passed a stucco house with a single light on in one of the rooms. “In there.”
“And that’s his vehicle,” Ella pointed out the Chevy in the driveway. The phony tribal Forest Service sticker was still attached to the door.
On Blalock’s instructions, they circled the block, checking out the layout, then parked one street over, more or less even with the house where Rainwater was keeping his hostage. All the homes, four to a block with large backyards separated by wire fences, were dark except for a few porch lights. No dogs were barking and everything was quiet.
Blalock handed Ella a ballistic vest—all the agents were wearing them already. Nodding silently, she took it and studied the taut expressions on the faces of the three agents with her in the van.
To the two young agents Blalock had brought in, she guessed that this was a welcome opportunity to go to the aid of one of their own. But to Blalock, it was much more than that. This was one way of dealing with his guilt. Deep down he’d known that Agent Thomas hadn’t been prepared to handle a case on the Rez, but he’d still allowed it to happen.
“When you’ve been with the Bureau as long as I have, nothing surprises you anymore,” Blalock told Ella as he picked up a shotgun and checked the magazine. “But this took me completely off guard. I figured the kid would get himself into a scrape or two, like I did when I first came to the Rez, but I never expected a complete disaster.”
“We’ll set things right soon enough,” Ella said, totally focused on the job now.
“Agent Martinez,” Blalock told their driver, “make sure the paramedics are available and on stand-by.”
Martinez nodded and picked up his cell phone.
Ella adjusted her vest. “You’re calling it, Agent Blalock. What now?”
Blalock brought out a flash-bang grenade, inspected it for a moment, then stuffed it back into his pocket. “Martinez, you and Newberry cover the rear. Clah and I will take the front. When everyone’s in place, I’ll identify us, and toss the flash-bang into the house via the door or the window.”
Everyone nodded.
“If Rainwater is armed and makes a move to resist, take him out, but don’t risk shooting the hostage.” Blalock was looking at his own people now. He and Ella had worked together enough that they trusted each other’s reactions and instincts without question.
Martinez and Newberry started out first, circling together, sticking to the street until they could see the back of the target house. Once they disappeared from view down the alley, Ella and Blalock moved in from the front. There were no trees, just low clumps of weeds and native grasses, but the night was their ally. With the moon hiding behind the clouds and no streetlights, the darkness seemed like a yawning void that shrouded them as they made their advance.
They reached the front door unimpeded, then Blalock tested the screen door. It was unlatched and moved freely. He took a look at the entry door next. Ella noted that it was cheap laminate, probably hollow core and easily defeated.
Looking back, he nodded to Ella, who was doing her best to watch the windows and the corners of the house at the same time. Then he brought out the flash-bang and pulled the pin. “FBI!” he shouted, kicking the door open and tossing in the grenade. They both turned their heads away to avoid being blinded.
The building shook from the blast, and the flash illuminated the entire yard like daylight for just a second. Blalock went in an instant later, followed by Ella.
It was dark inside, the flash-bang must have shattered a bulb, but they could see well enough to find Rainwater. He was lying on the floor moaning, his hands over his ears. A pump shotgun was on the carpet three feet away.
Blalock pointed his weapon at Rainwater, at the same time shoving Rainwater’s shotgun away with his boot. “Find a light, Ella.”
Ella turned, felt around the door trim, and located the switch. An overhead fixture came on.
“Clear!” Blalock yelled. A few seconds later they heard the back door being forced open and a light came on in the kitchen to their right.
“Clear!” Newberry and Martinez yelled almost together, then they entered the room.
“Don’t shoot,” Rainwater yelled, trying to get to his knees, his arms raised over his head.
Ella kept her weapon trained on Melvin as Blalock applied the cuffs, none too gently, then removed the pen/transmitter from Rainwater’s shirt pocket. “Where’s Agent Thomas?” he demanded.
“Find him yourself,” Rainwater s
pat out.
“You’re out of options, Melvin,” Ella said quietly, stepping up close to their sullen prisoner. “Help us out and I can mention it to the DA. It might get you a better cell.”
“He’s in the hall closet,” Melvin said dejectedly, gesturing with a tilt of his head.
Hearing Melvin, Blalock strode to the closet Melvin had indicated and jerked open the door. A skinned-up young man with short red hair and filthy clothes was curled up in the corner, blindfolded and gagged and tied hand to foot with a length of nylon rope.
“Agent Thomas,” Blalock said softly, “you’re safe. Just don’t move until I check you over for injuries.”
As soon as Blalock took off his blindfold and gag, Thomas began to cough. Martinez, who’d been watching, went to the kitchen, returned with a glass of water, and held it to his mouth.
“Sip it carefully,” Blalock said, noting the young man’s parched lips as he cut the ropes binding him. Thomas’s arm had apparently been broken. It lay limply against his body, swollen between the wrist and elbow.
Thomas reached for the glass with his good hand and finished drinking. “My arm …”
“I see it,” Blalock said. “We’ll have the EMTs here soon.”
Ella looked over at Agent Martinez and noted that he was calling the paramedics.
“Did you catch Agent Simmons? He’s in this up to his ass. He thinks he destroyed all my files, but I have backups of everything,” Thomas managed, his voice a little less raspy now. “I had them—Krause, that Weaver woman at county records, and Rainwater. He was even stealing an old lady’s mail because she’d figured out she was being ripped off. All I needed was a little more time to put everything together—and a break. That’s why I decided to go for it and stake out Melvin’s Sing.”
Thomas shifted and groaned but continued, his voice gaining strength. “That’s when it really hit the fan. Two Navajos with a rifle chased me off before I could talk to Rainwater. Then Simmons showed up. Before I realized Rainwater had already tipped him off, he reamed me out for antagonizing the tribe, then ordered me into my unit. When I turned my back, the bastard coldcocked me.”
“That supports everything we’ve gathered so far. Just keep it fresh in your mind and we’ll talk about it later,” Blalock said, stepping aside for the paramedics, who’d made the trip in just a few minutes.
Blalock stood with Ella near the door. “He has a badly fractured arm, I think, but Andy’s in surprisingly good shape considering all he’s been through.” He paused, then added, “But once this is over, he and I are going to have a long talk about what never to do on the Rez.”
Ella chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be necessary. He’s learned his lesson the hard way.” Hearing a commotion outside, Ella moved to the door and saw Rainwater struggling and yelling at Newberry and Martinez as they hauled him toward the street. His swagger was gone, she noticed.
Ella shook her head. “Rainwater might have gotten away with a lot more if he’d just left Agent Thomas down in that mine shaft. I wonder if Melvin grabbed Thomas for himself or just to take a little pressure off Betsy? I’m certain now that he was the second man coming to her apartment, not Krause. Judging from his efforts to get Betsy’s charges reduced, they’re obviously in love.”
“How sweet.”
“Gee, Blalock, you’re a real cynic. You know that?”
“I’ve been called much worse, Clah.” He looked through the open doorway at Thomas, who was being helped into the ambulance. “I better ride with the kid to the hospital and get his statement before they zone him out with painkillers. Then I’ll meet you back at your station.”
Ella glanced at her watch. It was well past midnight now, but she wasn’t tired anymore. “I love it when all the pieces of the puzzle come together. You can almost feel it in the air when harmony has been restored.”
“It’s one heckuva rush, even for an old bilagáana like me.”
Ella watched the senior agent go. Despite Blalock’s many years on the Rez she was sure that he still didn’t really get the whole concept of harmony and balance. But that was okay. Accepting the differences between them was also part of walking in beauty.
TWENTY-ONE
Big Ed stood beside Ella, watching through the one-way glass into the interrogation room as Agent Blalock questioned Betsy Weaver. They were at the city jail in Farmington, out of Navajo jurisdiction, but their presence had been required because of the on-reservation investigation and arrests made.
“You were right about the woman. She won’t even acknowledge Rainwater,” Big Ed said. “Not that it matters much. The feds will still get Melvin for kidnapping a federal officer. The DA said Melvin’s attorney is trying to see if he can try Rainwater on the Rez for the other charges. But considering what Melvin did for a living and the scam he was part of, I doubt he’ll get any sympathy from the Dineh. The tribal newspaper will show him no mercy, that’s for sure.”
“At least Betsy is testifying against Simmons and Krause,” Ella answered. “The feds really want to nail them, and her testimony will go a long ways with a jury, especially because she knows all the names and dates. She and Melvin kept good records, obviously to prevent Simmons from turning on them later if the authorities got close. The briefcase found in Rainwater’s vehicle ended up being a gold mine, according to Blalock.”
“This case has really taken a high toll on everyone—and I’m not just talking lack of sleep. Compromises had to be made and some of us came dangerously close to crossing the line,” he said slowly.
Ella looked over at Big Ed and wondered if he knew or suspected that she’d been in Krause’s garage. “We all did what was necessary to save a life, Chief. Sometimes in a crisis there’s just not enough time to make sure it’s all by the book.”
Big Ed gave her a long searching look but said nothing. He didn’t have to, Ella already knew what he was thinking. The rules of police work and their adherence to them was what defined them as law-enforcement officers. But, all things considered, she had no regrets.
“I’ve left the preliminary paperwork on your desk, boss, but I’m beat. If you don’t need me anymore, I think I’ll go home and catch up on my sleep.”
“Go ahead. Our part’s pretty much done. This is now the FBI’s mess.”
Ella looked back through the glass one more time at Blalock, who was still pressing Betsy Weaver for every piece of incriminating evidence he could get on Simmons. Ella knew FB-Eyes was proud of the gold badge he carried and of the Bureau itself. He saw what his fellow agent had done as the ultimate betrayal, and she agreed wholeheartedly with that assessment. She’d experienced those feelings herself several years ago with the tribal police leadership—before Big Ed—and knew exactly how he felt.
Ella walked down the hall and saw Justine coming out of a meeting with other federal officers. Their department had signed over all the evidence that had been legally collected on the Rez during their search for Andy Thomas.
Seeing Ella, Justine smiled. “You look as tired as I feel.”
“My body’s tired—exhausted, really—but my mind’s still wide awake. Sometimes after a case like this one it’s hard for me to wind down. But when it finally hits me, I’ll be out like a light,” she said.
“I’ve got a routine. I go home, fix myself a hot cup of herbal tea, strip down to a T-shirt, and put on my favorite slippers. That usually does it for me. What about you?”
“The usual. I’ll tiptoe into the house and try not to wake anyone,” she said with a wry smile. “Then I’ll sneak into my daughter’s room and sit with her while she sleeps. When I look at Dawn, the love I feel for her just fills me to bursting. She’s all the good things we fight for. People do all kinds of things for money, but to little kids like her, it’s just green paper. Being with Dawn puts everything back into perspective for me after working a tough case and makes me feel less … dirty.”
Justine nodded slowly. “It’s like what my dad told me when I said I wanted to join
the department. ‘If you play in the ditch all day, you can’t expect to come out smelling like a rose.’”
“True,” Ella admitted quietly. “But someone has to keep the ditches clean so that the good water can fill the fields and help crops grow.”
Justine smiled. “That’s pretty close to what I said. Besides, it can be fun to play in the mud sometimes.”
Ella laughed. “See you tomorrow … well, in a few hours, I guess. It won’t be long till the sun comes up again.”
On the dark, lonely drive home, with the adrenaline rush starting to settle, Ella’s thoughts drifted. Despite all the drawbacks, police work could be addictive, and somewhere along the way, being a detective had become a vital part of her. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else for a living.
Suddenly remembering that Dawn was still at Kevin’s, she decided to go there first instead. Dawn would be asleep, and Kevin too, but Ella had a key and could let herself in. Kevin wouldn’t mind if she peeked in on her daughter. Then again, maybe she should call first and let him know she was coming. Sneaking in quietly was a bad idea. He had a gun and was very protective, as was she, after their daughter had nearly been kidnapped a few years ago.
Ella arrived at Kevin’s modern house twenty minutes later, and parked beside his new pickup. She knocked twice, then unlocked the door and stepped inside. A night-light in a wall plug, placed there for Dawn, no doubt, enabled her to see well enough to locate Dawn and Kevin immediately.
Her daughter was sleeping peacefully on the sofa bed, a tiny smile on her face. The raggedy stuffed horse she claimed not to play with anymore was underneath the covers too, tucked tightly in her arms. Of course it was only a substitute for Wind. If Dawn could have brought her pony with her she would have, in an instant.
Kevin, in a T-shirt and slacks, was obviously half-asleep, sitting in a big leather recliner a few feet away from where their daughter was sleeping. He’d watched Ella come in, and smiled but didn’t speak.
Ella sat down on the edge of the sofa bed and brushed Dawn’s soft black hair away from her face and kissed her forehead gently. Her child was, at times, her only point of sanity in an otherwise crazy world.
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