The woman smiled. “That’s me. I’m Chris Vasquez, bartender, bouncer, and badass. What can I do for you and your backups?”
Ella had to smile. “We’re not here to arrest anyone,” she answered, hoping to put Ms. Vasquez at ease. “I just needed some information. There was a Navajo man here last night, one of your regulars, I believe, and he got involved in a fight. Do you remember the incident?”
She laughed. “Good old Gilbert! Wait, don’t tell me. He sent you to arrest me because I thumped him with my bat before he could break up the place.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Ella said. “I just needed to verify he was here. I don’t suppose you remember the time this fight took place, do you?”
“Yeah, he came in early, around six-thirty. He was in a surly mood, too. Probably ’cause he didn’t have a woman with him who would pay his tab. The fight started about seven-thirty, I guess. Lasted, what, thirty seconds before I clocked him and that cowboy.”
Ella nodded to Justine, who showed the bartender Valerie’s DMV photo. “Did you ever see Gilbert with this woman?” Ella asked her.
She looked at it a moment. “Yeah. I think so, but he had several women, one young enough to be his daughter. Last night he was with the young, uptight girl. It was the first time I’d seen her. She sat ramrod straight and never ordered a thing. Didn’t even want a Coke. When she finally left, she refused to pay his tab, too. Smart girl.”
Ella’s luck was working today so she decided to play a hunch. “Was the young woman about five foot two, maybe one hundred and thirty pounds, really long hair, and wearing traditional Navajo clothes, like with a long skirt and all?”
“That’s a good description. And no makeup, or very little.”
Ella had no doubt now that the woman with Gilbert had been Boots, Valerie’s daughter. It was natural that she would have wanted to know the man her mother cared about, but why a staunch traditionalist like Boots had agreed to come to a bar with Gilbert was beyond her. Even more troubling was that the investigative circle kept coming closer to home all the time. Boots had helped take care of Ella’s daughter for years and was practically family.
The ex-Marine spoke again after a moment. “In case it helps, I recall that they didn’t come in together. He showed up first, then about fifteen minutes later she came in and sat down with him at a table. After about a half hour, she left—alone. And if you ask me, she’d never been at a bar in her life. She hardly ever looked up, and when she did, her eyes were as wide as saucers.”
Ella nodded slowly. “So she left, and Gilbert stayed?”
“Yeah, but I stopped serving him right after that because he’d run out of money. He stayed nursing the last of his beer for a bit, feeling sorry for himself, then someone made a smart-ass comment about the young woman who’d been with him earlier. Gilbert flew out of his chair swinging. My backup bartender tried to break it up, but when I realized it wasn’t working, I grabbed the Pacifier,” she said, pointing to the massive bat propped up behind the counter. “When I bring that out, people know it’s going to be thumping time unless they walk away.”
She looked at Ella, then at the others, and shrugged. “Anyway, as far as fights go, it was a quickie. A few punches, a little blood—that’s all.”
With the interview over, Emily headed back east on patrol and Ella and Justine hit the road in the opposite direction.
“The bartender was referring to Boots—Jennifer Clani—wasn’t she?”
Ella nodded. “It had to be her. That means we’ll have to question her next. She’s always at Kevin’s, so head on over there.” Seeing Justine nod, she continued. “Tache is following up on the names of the people at the shoe game, right?” Ella asked her as they passed through the rural community above Kirtland—Fruitland—and continued west toward the reservation.
“Yeah, but last I heard he’d come up with nothing. The guys all live in the area and are regulars. They’re night people and the Morning Stop Café isn’t one of their haunts. They also operate on Indian time. Not many of them even carry a watch. Getting the precise time of Benny’s visit and other events that they may or may not have seen is difficult, as you can imagine.”
Ella nodded, her thoughts racing. “Tell me, what’s this I’ve heard about Reverend Campbell going around trying to convert people on the Rez?”
Justine said nothing for a moment. “He’s not a fanatic about it, Ella. Really. The rev is low-key except during the high points of his sermons. But there is a membership drive going on at the church right now.”
“I got a different take from Benny Joe. He claims that Campbell is bugging a lot of people in the neighborhood.”
Justine nodded slowly. “Okay, now your interest in him makes more sense. Reverend Campbell is on a mission but, Ella, he stays away from the traditionalists and New Traditionalists. People in those groups already have something they can hold on to, a belief system that grounds them. I’d be surprised to hear that any of them are griping about him. Reverend Campbell says he’s hoping to connect with the Navajos who’ve lost track of the old ways and haven’t replaced them with anything else. Those are the ones he says need us. They’re vulnerable to things like alcoholism because they have nothing to hold on to. A moral vacuum, he calls it. Reverend Campbell wants to give them an alternative—a way out and a way in—by opening our doors to them.”
“By converting them, you mean.”
“Yeah, I guess, but it’s not a hard sell. He tells us he’s just offering an outstretched hand in the name of Jesus Christ. It’s up to them whether they take it or not.”
“Think hard, Justine. Are you sure it’s all that low-key? How does he sound when he goes one-on-one with someone? My father used to bring out the ole fire and brimstone speech whenever he felt he wasn’t making headway.”
“He’s nothing like your father used to be, I’ve heard them both. True, I’ve never seen Campbell in action outside church, but, Ella, you’ve met the man and spoken with him several times. Does he strike you as the type to thump people on the head with a Bible?”
The mental picture made Ella laugh. “That’s the most colorful description I’ve ever heard of a Bible-thumper. Okay. Point taken.” Reverend Campbell looked more like a kewpie doll than a preacher.
Ella fell silent during the rest of the drive. Dawn’s father, Kevin, and she were still friends but the fact that Dawn had chosen to stay with him for now still stung. She understood the reason for it—Dawn and her horse were inseparable—but she missed her daughter terribly.
“How do you want to handle this with Boots? Go easy?” Justine asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Ella took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “No. We’ll treat her the same as anyone else.” There were no personal considerations when it came to a murder case.
They arrived at Kevin’s home twenty minutes later. The house itself was less than ten years old, and Kevin had recently added a corral and had stalls built for Chieftain, Ella’s horse, and Wind, Dawn’s pony. To her surprise, there was a third stall there, too. As she watched, a large dapple gray gelding, like the ones Dawn had always favored, came out prancing.
“If he bought her a horse without my permission, I may shoot him,” Ella grumbled. “Or at the very least Taser his butt.”
Ella strode up to the door so quickly Justine had a hard time keeping up. Just as they stepped up onto the wooden porch, Kevin came out, dressed in an expensive oxford dress shirt and chino pants that screamed old money. Of course his five-hundred-dollar watch added to that image, as did his Italian loafers. Even as a tribal lawyer, Kevin did well for himself financially.
“It’s good to see you, Ella. And Justine, hi,” he said, then glanced back at Ella. “You’ve got great timing, mother of my daughter. I was just about to call you.”
Kevin was trying too hard to be smooth, and it annoyed Ella. “Let me guess. You wanted to talk to me about that horse I just saw out there,” she said.
“Yes, but I can see
you’re jumping to the wrong conclusion. The new horse is mine.”
It took Ella less than five seconds to go from a smile to outright laughter. Kevin was the type to ride in a Porsche, not a horse, and his current selection of clothing served to support that lifestyle. As far as she knew, Kevin had never even been on a horse.
“I bought him from Mercedes Manuelito. She assured me he was a beginner’s horse,” he added, irately. “Boots has already offered to teach me to ride, but give me a break, how hard can it be? I mean you saddle the thing, sit down, and hold on the reins so you can control the animal. The horse is the one doing the work, right?” He looked at Ella, then at Justine.
“All things considered I’d strongly advise you not to take that horse out of the corral until you’ve had time to get to know him under the saddle. Horses are very unpredictable,” Ella said.
“Yeah, like that idiot pony,” he muttered. “The danged thing bit me. No joke.”
Ella’s sympathies were with the pony. “Don’t ever let him get away with that.”
“I didn’t. Well, actually Boots straightened him out. But this new horse is gentle. Boots looked him over before I put my money down.”
“Good. That was smart. Boots knows horses. But speaking of Boots, we need to talk to her. Is she around?”
He nodded. “She just gave Dawn her riding lesson and they’re putting the pony away now. Do you want me to keep Dawn occupied while you interview Boots? I’m guessing this is related to the murder.”
“Yeah, it is, so please keep Dawn away while we talk,” Ella said, then added, “Just to make sure we’re on the same page—our daughter won’t be riding the horse you just bought, right?”
Kevin hesitated.
“Kevin, she’s okay on her pony, but she’s not ready for more than that. You and I had an agreement and I expect you to honor it.” Ella noticed out of the corner of her eye that Justine was trying to distance herself, sensing an argument coming on.
“Dawn doesn’t know that eventually the horse will be hers. Nobody does,” Kevin said in a whisper-soft voice. “It’ll be our secret. Of course I’ll be the one riding him at first. Then, after Boots feels she’s ready, maybe we can let Dawn ride Willy, too, from time to time. She’ll be moving up to a competition horse soon enough anyway.”
“And if I say no, then I’m the bad guy. Nice going, counselor. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“Look, what’s the harm? The horse can stay here for as many months or years that it takes, and I’ll be footing the bills. Later this year, maybe we can finally give her what she wants most for her birthday—going for a trail ride with both of us.”
Ella smiled slowly. Trail rides with Dawn took all day. That was why Ella usually scheduled them way in advance. Just the thought of Kevin trying to stay on a horse all day long improved her mood. If anyone deserved a pain in the butt, it was him. No way he’d make it—even if the horse didn’t unseat him on the way.
“Fortunately for you, we’re going to have to take up this conversation again some other time. Right now, Justine and I need to talk to Boots alone.”
Spotting Ella, Dawn ran over, taking off her riding helmet along the way. Ella roughed up her daughter’s long black hair playfully, then gave her a quick hug. “Having fun?”
“I took Wind over some small jumps today! It was so much fun! A lot better than just stepping over logs.”
Boots came up behind Dawn. “We’ve moved to the next phase of her training. She’s got a very good seat, but I’m going to insist that she always wears a helmet.”
“Good,” Ella said.
As soon as Kevin called Dawn away to help him brush the new horse, Ella and Justine accompanied Boots inside the house where they wouldn’t be overheard. “We’re here on business, Boots,” Ella said, waving for Boots to have a seat. “I understand that you were at the Double Play last night.”
Boots stared at the floor. “It was a horrible place,” she whispered. “I’m not going back again, ever.”
“Why were you there?” Ella pressed.
Boots hesitated. “It was family business…personal.”
“I know this is going to be awkward, but I need you to tell me everything you know. This isn’t the time to hold back. Your mother’s ex-husband, the man you met there, is in custody right now. He’s a suspect in her murder.”
Seven
Boots gave her an agonized stare, her eyes filling with tears. “All I wanted was for him to stop seeing my mother. That’s why I went there.”
“Start at the beginning,” Ella said softly.
Tears spilled freely down Boot’s face. “My mother was trying very hard to put her life together again and he wasn’t…a good influence. But he didn’t want to talk about him and Mom. That’s why he insisted on meeting in that awful place. He thought I wouldn’t go.”
Boots cried silently for a while and Ella resisted the impulse to give her a hug. Even though she’d known Jennifer for years, touching another was not something that came easily to a Navajo, and it would have felt even more awkward to a traditionalist.
Finally Boots took a deep unsteady breath and looked up, though she continued to avoid eye contact with either Ella or Justine. In the Anglo world, the refusal to make eye contact would have been seen with suspicion, but it was the way things were done here on the reservation. To look Ella straight in the eyes would have been a sign of disrespect—and of confrontation.
“Did her ex-husband agree not to see her?” Ella asked gently.
“He said that it was my mother who kept coming to see him, not the other way around. He told me I shouldn’t be talking to him, that I should talk to her.”
“Did you?”
“I’d tried several times already, and I was going to do so again, but I never had the chance,” Boots answered, her voice fading to a whisper.
“Did you and your mother see each other often?” Ella asked.
“No, not really. She and I…didn’t agree on many things. But Mom asked me to meet her at her place, behind that café, a few weeks ago. She was going to church again, and wanted me to go with her. I told her I wouldn’t feel comfortable being there. Mom said I didn’t have to believe or anything, she just wanted to do something good together. I told her that there were a lot of other good things we could do together that didn’t involve her religion,” Boots said flatly.
“Did your mother mention anyone giving her a hard time?”
“No, but there was something going on. While I was there, her phone rang. She got angry and told whoever it was that she didn’t have time for all that nonsense. She told the person to leave her and everyone else alone.”
“Thanks for telling me all this. I know it was hard for you and I appreciate it,” Ella said.
“The Fierce Ones—my grandmother has them looking for my mom’s killer, doesn’t she?” Boots asked.
“Yes. How do you feel about that?”
“I understand what they’re trying to do, but I’ve heard about their tactics….”
“We’ll get to the person responsible first, Boots,” Ella responded, hoping she would be able to back up her words.
“Find him soon, please.” Jennifer replied. “I’m afraid my grandmother will get arrested or something. She can be difficult when she gets upset.”
“I know.” Ella didn’t need to elaborate further.
Justine nodded to Boots, then left with Ella. Once out on the back porch, Ella waved to Kevin, who was trying to show Dawn how to rope a fence post with a lasso and failing miserably, judging from Dawn’s laughter.
Seeing her, Dawn hurried up. “Mom, you aren’t going yet, are you? You just got here!”
Ella felt the sting of Dawn’s words. “I’m working on an important case right now and I’ve got to go back to work.”
“Once you’ve done with that, can we go on another trail ride?” Dawn’s brown eyes looked at Ella imploringly. “It’s been weeks.”
Dawn had mastered The Look, and E
lla knew a ploy when she saw one. She glanced at Kevin, who smiled innocently, and Ella suddenly had the distinct feeling that he’d already promised Dawn one. “Let’s let your father decide when, because he’s going with us, of course,” she said, working hard not to grin. Kevin would be in traction after an hour.
After saying good-bye to her daughter, Ella walked back with Justine to the SUV. “We need to stop by Blalock’s office first. He’s been checking VICAP, and I need to know what, if anything, he’s found. After that, we need to interview the other employees at the Morning Stop Café. They worked with Valerie, and may know something helpful.”
Ella lapsed into a long silence as she gathered her thoughts. “This case has too many loose ends,” she said at last. “Why would the killer clean up the body and arrange it the way he did? What message was he trying to send? And, most important of all, was Valerie chosen randomly? If so, then she could be the first of many.”
“A serial killer,” Justine said, nodding in agreement.
As they reached the parking lot outside of Blalock’s office, Ella got out but Justine remained seated.
“While you talk to Blalock, I’ll get the addresses of the waitresses and any other employees from the café,” Justine said, bringing out her cell phone. “And Joe’s supposed to be interviewing one of the victim’s ex-husbands, the one who lives near Gallup. I’ll give him a call and see what he’s turned up.”
“Good. You know where I’ll be if you need me.”
Ella entered the old brick and stone building and hurried down the long hallway, an idea in mind. As she was passing by Bruce Little’s office, he stepped out into the hall to meet her. These days, the ex-police officer hired out his services to the tribal police and others, maintaining and repairing computer networks. Craving more action than that provided, he also handled security for area concerts and events.
“I heard about the murder. Are you okay? I understand this one hit kinda close to home for you,” he said, his voice gentle.
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