Turquoise Girl

by Thurlo, David

  They waited in the car until she turned around, waved, and signaled them to approach. “Been having trouble with coyotes who want my sheep,” she said, then added, “I’m Lori Neathery. Reverend Tome said you might come by and talk to me.”

  Ella noticed how she rested her hand on the head of one sheep who’d pushed her neck out between the logs of the fence. These were pets who provided wool.

  “Do you weave?” Ella asked, noticing that all the animals had been sheared recently.

  Lori nodded. “That’s what I do. I make small rugs to sell to the tourists. The money provides for me and for them, too.”

  Ella noticed that the sheep were being fed grain, something not everyone could afford.

  Following her gaze, she added, “When I was a girl we’d take the sheep up to the Lukachukai Mountains in the summer to graze, and in winter they’d have grasses here. But not much rain has come lately, and the land’s tired,” she said. “So am I. But we both keep going.”

  She led them inside the sturdy cut stone house, and Ella noted that the woodstove had a fire. With the heat retaining ability of the stone walls, it was warm and comfortable inside.

  “I can guess what brought you here,” she said with a knowing grin. “I’m old, and I know many secrets. Perhaps you’d like me to share some of those with you.”

  “Yes, we would.” Ella was having a problem guessing her age but she didn’t think mid-eighties would be out of line.

  “People don’t remember nothin’ these days, not even the old stories. But maybe their mothers didn’t teach them what was important.”

  Ella had a feeling the comment had been meant as criticism for Rose, but she didn’t take the bait. “I understand that you went to the Divine Word Church when my father was there preaching.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t like him very much, your father, that is, just so you know. Didn’t like the way he’d try to scare people when they missed Sunday services. But I didn’t give him problems, not like some others.”

  “Like who, for example?” Ella asked.

  Lori looked at Ella for a long time before answering. “You and our new preacher, Reverend Tome…you getting married?”

  Ella blinked in surprise and for a moment, she just stared at Lori. “Not that I know of,” she answered at last. “We’re friends, that’s all. At least for now.”

  “That’s not what your eyes are telling me,” she said, laughing. “But this is a good thing. I wouldn’t want the gossip to take away his position in our church.”

  “Is his job in danger?” Ella asked, curious now.

  She laughed again. “See? You care. That’s very good,” she added, nodding. “Okay, you told me something and now I tell you something. It’s balanced that way. I believe in all that, you know. I guess you can call me a Christian traditionalist.”

  Ella smiled, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Justine almost beaming.

  “There’s always a first for everything,” Lori said.

  Ella nodded. “I was wondering if you could tell me about my father and his church back then.”

  She grew serious and her expression, thoughtful. “Your father liked things just so. Many, mostly the gossips, claimed he was such a dictator at church because at home he couldn’t control his own family. I don’t know about that, but I do know he didn’t like anyone to challenge his authority, and few ever did. Your father could squash any opposition with just a few well-chosen words. But one man went head to head with your father. I remember it because, at first, we all thought the young man was more of a son to him than his own son was. They were that alike. Then things changed.”

  “Do you remember the man’s name?”

  She thought about it. “Carson? No, wait. I think it may have been Cain…or Calvin?” She shook her head, then continued. “Can’t be sure about that. The only reason I remember him at all is because he tried to date my niece. I put a stop to it, of course. I knew he wasn’t what he seemed to be at all.”

  “What do you mean?” Ella asked, leaning forward in her chair.

  “I overheard him talking to my niece one day. He was telling her that God had a great plan for him and that she could be part of it, if she’d spend a night with him. That’s when I knew he was corrupt. He was handsome and the women just loved him, but there was something evil in him. Like with Coyote, lying came too easy for him.”

  Ella didn’t really understand the comparison, but she waited, sensing Lori had more to share.

  “When Coyote met Porcupine, Porcupine lived in a small hut make out of bark. Coyote was hungry but Porcupine had no food to share with him. Knowing that his guest was hungry, Porcupine tore a piece of bark off his hut, pricked his nose using one of his quills, and allowed the blood to drip onto the bark. After that, he placed it on the fire. When Coyote looked back at it, he saw that the bark had turned into a roast. Coyote ate and had his fill. Then he went to build himself a hut of bark. Then he tried the same method Porcupine used, pricking his nose until it bled, but nothing happened. That was because we’re all different inside and what you expect isn’t always what you get.”

  “Who were his other women?” Ella asked, bringing Lori back on track.

  “There were many. I don’t remember their names.”

  “And your niece’s name?”

  The elderly Navajo woman crossed herself. “Barbara Henderson. She passed on many years ago. She was riding her horse one afternoon and it threw her. The horse came home alone and we all searched but, by the time we found her, it was too late. Now my sister is also gone. But I remain.” She was quiet for several moments. “If you’re searching for the man I remember, then you should know that you have an advantage over him.”

  “What’s that?” Ella asked her.

  “Do you know the story of Coyote and Badger?”

  Ella searched her mind, but there were as many stories about Coyote as there were stars in the night sky.

  Lori’s voice became soft and her eyes misty as she recalled stories she’d learned as a girl. “Coyote and Badger wanted the same woman, so they set out to compete for her. Whoever brought back the most rabbits would win her in marriage. Badger was ahead, so Coyote tricked him. He told Badger about a rabbit he’d seen going down into a hole. Badger went after the rabbit, but as soon as he was out of sight, Coyote rolled a rock over the opening of the hole. Coyote returned with his kills first, but the people insisted on waiting for Badger. Badger finally dug his way out and told everyone what Coyote had done. People knew Coyote lied a lot, so they believed Badger. The next day while Badger and the people went hunting, Coyote tried to steal the woman. But it didn’t work so Coyote ended up going his way alone.” She paused then continued with a smile. “You have the Badger fetish around your neck. Like him, you have a good heart and honesty on your side, and you’re willing to work for what you get, too. All Coyote has is lies. So, whether you know it or not, the advantage is yours,” Lori concluded.

  Ella smiled. “Thank you for sharing that story with me,” she said.

  Lori nodded once.

  Ella stood. “We have to be going now but if you remember the man’s name, send word to me.”

  As they left, Ella remained silent. Nothing was coming together. Frustrated, she tried to mentally sort through all the information they’d gathered on the case so far, but before she could get far, her phone rang.

  It was Dwayne Blalock. “We’ve found something interesting among the records, Ella. Apparently your father kept a daily log of church-related business, and in the entries we found someone he called the heretic. That man betrayed your father, according to what your father wrote.”

  “Any idea who he was or what he did to my dad?” Ella asked.

  “We haven’t found any reference that identifies him by name but we’re still looking. As far as what he might have done to your father, that remains unclear,” Blalock said, then added, “What we did find are some personal notes about you and your brother. His reaction to your B
ureau career and how he felt about your brother becoming a medicine man, things like that. I thought you might like to read through those.”

  Ella hesitated. To read her father’s personal notes in reference to the case was one thing, but to read through his personal journal out of curiosity was another matter entirely. She wasn’t at all sure about that.

  “Is Teeny still doing a search on the names?” she asked, temporarily changing the subject.

  “Yeah, and the man is frightening. He gets quicker access to the databases than I do. But so far we haven’t had much luck on anything.”

  “Look for a first name with a C…Calvin, Cain, anything on that order.”

  “Last name?

  “Don’t have one,” Ella replied.

  “All right. We’ll see what we can do.”

  “What about Stan Brewster? Was he a member of my father’s church?”

  “We haven’t found his name listed, but what we have learned so far doesn’t clear him either,” Blalock added. “He had a job in California years back, but he came back here frequently to court Donna. When he married her, he took over her business operations and they’ve been on solid financial ground ever since.”

  “California…” she said. “So he’s still a viable suspect,” Ella said, lost in thought.

  “One of many, Clah. We need to start narrowing things down.”

  “Yeah, I get you.” Ella telephoned her brother next, but he didn’t answer. Loretta worked in town, and their son, Julian, would be in school, and they didn’t have an answering machine. When it rang and rang, that usually meant he was out in his ceremonial hogan or with a patient. “I need to talk to Clifford. Let’s stop by his place and see if he’s around,” Ella told Justine.

  Deep in thought, Ella allowed the silence between them to stretch out as they headed south down former Highway 666.

  “You looked spaced out, cuz. Share?”

  “I was looking over at Navajo Mountain, and remembered a story about Monster Slayer. When his enemies made weapons out of spruce and juniper and fired them at him, Monster Slayer planted them, and that’s how the mountain became a place of protection for the Diné. Our people hid there when Kit Carson and the soldiers came looking for us. Now my brother goes up there to do Protectionways for our soldiers who go off to war,” she said thoughtfully. “His link to the past and to our land is at the heart of everything he is and I think that makes him stronger, inside, than either my father or me.”

  “Just because you don’t see Clifford bleed, doesn’t mean he can’t. Anyone can be hurt.”

  Ella stared at Justine for a long moment, her words sinking in. She hadn’t been looking at this in the right light. Like her brother and her father, she took pride in what she did because she knew she was good at it. A betrayal that had touched her father personally could have only been the result of his having trusted the person first. Lori had pointed her in the right direction, but, until now, Ella hadn’t realized how on the mark Lori had been.

  “Stop and turn around. We need to go back to Blalock’s office. I need some information.”

  They arrived at the small office complex soon thereafter. They found Blalock in Teeny’s office, seated in front of what looked like a state-of-the-art computer.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “No known felons on the lists—so far,” Blalock said.

  “Did my father’s log mention anyone he was training—a deacon or preacher?”

  “There are no names,” Blalock answered. “Just letters sometimes, or nicknames he uses,” Blalock said, gesturing toward the side table.

  Ella nodded. That had been the Navajo in her dad. Despite his religion, her father had hated using names. Ella picked up her dad’s daily log. The leather had cracked and the pages were wrinkled and weathered, but she knew her father’s writing.

  “Your father did mention a person he was forced to ask to leave the congregation. He called him biyooch’ídí, if I’m pronouncing it correctly.”

  “Close enough. It means ‘liar,’” Ella said.

  As she stared at an indeterminate spot across the room lost in thought, Ella’s skin began to prickle and the badger fetish at her neck became uncomfortably warm. Clifford had given her the badger fetish years ago. To date, she’d never managed to figure out how or what made it work, but the irrefutable fact was that the hotter the fetish became, the closer and more elevated the danger was.

  Ella stepped out into the hall and looked around. Nobody was there. As she came back into the office, she heard a truck revving up outside in the parking lot. Yet that was scarcely reason for alarm.

  Teeny glanced over at her. “You okay?”

  “No,” she replied in a taut voice. “Something’s not right.” The truck outside was racing now, getting closer.

  Suddenly the entire building shook violently. Ella was knocked off her feet as the outside wall gave way with an ear-shattering crunch. Debris flew everywhere as the front end of a truck smashed into the room. Choking dust filled the air. Something heavy had fallen onto her legs, and she groaned in pain. Loud pops like the sound of glass breaking followed, and she covered her eyes instinctively.

  Dazed, Ella tried to sit up and realized that the object pinning her to the floor was Blalock, who was flat on his back. “Blalock, get off me!” she yelled at him.

  “I’m trying, woman!” He rolled over, and she struggled painfully to her knees. The room was in shambles, with overturned tables, shattered monitors, and sparks flying around.

  “Can everyone move?” Teeny yelled, reaching down and helping Ella to her feet.

  “Something’s burning!” Ella yelled, pointing to the debris around the smashed truck. Black smoke was rising rapidly and filling the room.

  Blalock, bleeding from his forehead, looked around the littered floor, then stooped to pick up some papers. “No time, FB-Eyes,” Teeny yelled. “That truck’s loaded with fuel. Haul ass, now!”

  Blalock jumped over a collapsed table, stepped around a smashed computer, and lunged toward Justine, who’d managed to stand up. “Go!” He pushed her out into the hall.

  Teeny reached for Ella, but she was already moving. As she stumbled through the doorway, he followed, close at her heels. Justine and Blalock were already at the far end of the hall, and Ella was sprinting to catch up when a clap of thunder and a wave of hot air swatted her in the back like a giant hand. She flew horizontally for a dozen feet, then slid on her belly across the waxed tile floor. Teeny, who’d been a step behind her, slammed into her legs, spinning her around completely.

  Teeny’s doorway—what was left of it—was a dragon’s breath of flames and oily smoke from top to bottom, and the high-pitched wail of smoke alarms seemed to come at them from everywhere.

  Blalock and Justine poked their heads around the corner. “Get up,” Justine yelled, glancing back at them. “We have to get out of the building!”

  Ella and Teeny untangled, and the four of them raced together to the entrance, and outside past the covered porch.

  “Anyone else in there?” Ella asked, turning to Teeny, who was still trying to catch his breath.

  He turned back toward the door, but Blalock stopped him before he could even take a step.

  “Stay put!” Blalock shouted, pointing to three other people who’d left the building after them. They were huddled together staring at the burning truck, half in and half out of Teeny’s office. “That’s the rest of the tenants.”

  Ella studied the truck that had been used as a battering ram and realized it was an oil service truck. “Find cover!” she yelled to the office workers. “The truck’s going to go!”

  The trio ran, diving or ducking behind a van just as one of the fuel tanks on the back exploded. The tank arched across the blue sky like a rocket and landed in an open field a hundred yards from the highway, setting fire to some brush.

  Ella groped for her cell phone, but Justine already had hers out, calling the fire department. Moving even farther from the
building, they decided to join the people who were using the van for cover. Behind them, the building rumbled and groaned as the fire spread from office to office, engulfing everything in its path.

  “No sprinkler system?” Justine asked.

  Blalock, a handkerchief pressed against the cut on his head, cursed softly.

  Teeny shook his head. “This is a pile of crap. I just upgraded every piece of hardware in my office. Now it’s nothing but slag.”

  Sixteen

  It was close to 6 P.M. by the time the fire was finally put out. They were all battered and bruised and covered with soot, but Ella was determined to go back in as soon as they got the all-clear. They’d had irreplaceable evidence in there—the church records—and she needed to salvage whatever she could.

  Teeny’s massive fists curled and uncurled, his face contorted with rage. “When I catch the shicho who did this, I’m going to tear off his limbs and stick them where the sun don’t shine.”

  Ella smiled. Like it was with most Navajo words, pronunciation was everything. By not accentuating the o or the last syllable, the meaning changed drastically. It went from the word “my” to the one for male genitalia. “He’s ours, Teeny,” she said quietly. “I want him in prison.”

  “You can have what’s left. I’m not greedy,” he answered.

  Blalock joined them. The wound on his forehead had required stitches, but with the hospital not far away, he’d quickly been treated and released. “Think the tribal PD will let me set up temporary quarters at the station?”

  “Sure,” Ella answered. “You won’t have an office to yourself, but you’ll get a desk. Just ask Big Ed.”

  Justine stood by Ella’s side. “Do you think we can salvage anything in there?”

  “I doubt any of my hard drives survived that, and your paperwork is going to be toast,” Teeny said. “With the intense heat…But I have a good safe with backups of my business files, and I save data to an online site, so it’s not a total loss.”