Turquoise Girl

by Thurlo, David

  “Then you stopped watching him and called us?” Ella asked.

  “Yeah. But by the time I dialed, he was gone.”

  “How did you know he was gone?”

  “I heard a car or truck driving off. Probably a truck, now that I think about it.”

  “In what direction?” Ella said. Maybe they’d be able to find tire tracks.

  “To the south, not toward the highway. I remember because I thought it was strange. I mean there’s nothing out there.”

  Ella got Albert’s home address and telephone number in case she had to talk to him again. “We’ll want to talk to you again so don’t leave the area without telling us,” she added.

  “Leave? Where to? I can’t go nowhere. Don’t have the bucks. That’s why I took this job. But I’m quitting as soon as the sun comes up.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Ella said, then went back outside.

  Justine met her. “I’ve got some kind of ashes, bone fragments, and other stuff besides the hand. And we haven’t been able to lift any prints from the fence posts.”

  “I’m going to check out the area where Albert says he heard a vehicle driving off.”

  Ella walked out in a line directly toward the mesa to the south. Hogback was to the west but beyond was open desert with dirt roads between some low-production oil wells and a few remote houses. Finally she discovered a set of fresh-looking tire tracks, probably from a pickup or SUV judging from the size. She continued walking, but the tracks simply stopped. Ella crouched by the ground. This didn’t make sense.

  The breeze was picking up. Wind whispered secrets but right now she could hear nothing, except the threat of evidence disappearing. She walked a little farther and something on the ground caught her eye. It looked familiar and as she crouched down for a closer look, she immediately understood why. It was her shirt—or the right sleeve of her shirt to be precise—bundled up in bailing wire. She’d discarded it in the outside trash at Justine’s after the fire at the office complex. Someone had retrieved it, cut the sleeve off, bundled it up, then covered it with grayish ashes of some kind.

  It was a clear threat. A skinwalker used personal items to work evil. But obviously the person didn’t know her very well. This didn’t frighten her—it just pissed her off.

  She called Justine and Tache over. As they worked the evidence, Justine glanced up at her. “Let me guess. This is a piece of the shirt you were wearing earlier at Teeny’s?”

  “Yeah. I’d placed it outside in your trash barrel. But what worries me now is that this proves he knows where I’m staying—which means you and Emily are in danger, too.”

  “Let him take us on. It’ll be fun,” Justine answered with a lethal smile.

  Ella understood. Emily would undoubtedly react the same way. None of them were the kind to back away from trouble. For the first time since she’d started working the case, she was glad she wasn’t at home and that Dawn wasn’t with her.

  Eighteen

  “Anyone look familiar?” Dwayne Blalock whispered, looking down from their perch inside the cab of a big yellow loader at the group of construction workers gathered about fifty feet away. Both were disguised in coveralls and wearing hard hats.

  Ella yawned, having slept less than three hours before Blalock had called, suggesting they stake out Clifford’s purification ceremony. FB-Eyes wanted to be there in case Leroy, Caleb Frank, or whoever had caused last night’s trouble decided to return for another round.

  She knew, in spite of the cliché, that perps, especially vandals, often did return to the scene of the crime to survey their handiwork. But it was barely sunrise, and if not for the coffee Blalock had provided, she’d have been half asleep right now.

  “Looks like just the workers showed up. I recognize several faces,” she finally answered. “But the one they called Leroy isn’t here.”

  “He’s gotta be Caleb Frank. Wish you’d let me use my camera.”

  Ella shook her head. “My brother consented to let us watch, but he’s serious about his profession, and he needs us to show the proper respect for this Navajo ceremony.”

  “What was the stuff in the little pouches he handed out when the workmen arrived?” Blalock whispered.

  “It’s gall medicine, which provides protection, especially against witchcraft. The medicine is made from the gall of an animal, like a bear, deer, skunk, mountain lion, or, less likely these days, an eagle. I think there’s corn or pollen in it, too.”

  “And only a Navajo skinwalker would be messing with body parts, like that girl’s hand, right?” Blalock replied.

  “Yeah, or someone pretending to be one,” Ella replied, looking down and taking a sip of coffee.

  As Clifford had begun to chant, she kept her eyes on the workers, trying to spot any potential sources of trouble.

  She wasn’t a traditionalist, but Ella always enjoyed the complicated rhythmic and tonal patterns of a Navajo Sing. The prayer had to be perfect, and Clifford’s voice was clear and strong. It was a Singer’s knowledge that gave him power to call down the aid of the gods. The result would be certain if the prayers that compelled the gods were done just right. Clifford’s skill as a hataalii would insure protection for those who intended to remain and work here. Ella noted that even the few Anglo workers present were watching and listening intently. She felt the power inherent in the Sing, and knew the Navajo workers standing around in their work clothes and hard hats were similarly affected. A few clutched medicine pouches in their hands.

  A half hour later, after the final blessing and scattering of corn pollen, Clifford nodded to one of the Anglo workers, who climbed up into a loader identical to the one Ella and Blalock were in.

  The engine started, and after warming up a moment, the loader lurched forward. Clifford pointed to a spot, and the big scoop came down, taking a big bite out of the ground. The loader turned, moved a hundred feet over to a dump truck, and dropped the collected dirt inside.

  “That’s where the hand was found, right?” Blalock asked, speaking normally to be heard above the noise.

  She nodded. “Contaminated ground to some. Even though it’s been cleansed by the hataalii, the earth is going to be taken off the Rez by non-Navajos,” Ella replied.

  Clifford then turned to the gathered crowd, assuring them in Navajo and English that it was now safe to work there.

  As the gathering dispersed, Ella glanced at Blalock. “It’s finished. Time for us to move on, too.”

  Ella returned to Justine’s place to find Emily and Justine both in the kitchen. A pot of freshly brewed coffee between them, they looked as if they’d been talking for a while.

  “Well, FB-Eyes and I didn’t find any bad guys at the construction site. But it was worth a shot. What’s up here?” Ella asked, though she already suspected the answer.

  “I told Emily about the shirt and ashes,” Justine said. “I thought she should know. Though I haven’t had a chance to analyze the ashes and determine their origin, the threat was clear.”

  “So what have you decided? Do you want me to move out?” Ella asked.

  “Are you nuts?” Emily countered instantly. “You’re staying. If three officers can’t handle one sicko, then we might as well turn in our badges and take up needlepoint.”

  Justine laughed. “I don’t know about the needlepoint thing, but I’m with her. We just have to play it smart and come up with a plan so we don’t get ambushed at night.”

  “Agreed,” Ella said, “but we can’t expect our PD to be much help on this. We have a serious manpower shortage and I already have officers on my daughter and my mother.”

  “I know. That’s why we were thinking of accepting Teeny’s offer,” Justine said.

  “Teeny? What’s he got to do with this?” Ella asked, joining them at the table.

  “He called while you were out,” Justine answered. “He’s worried about you. He’d heard about the shirt.”

  “How…?” She shook her head. “Never mind. So what was his offe
r?”

  “He wants to put some of his own employees on the job and have them watch this place at night. He also wants to update our locks and put in the kind of alarm that’ll alert his system. That way if there’s a break-in, he’ll know instantly.”

  “I don’t know if we can afford…”

  Before Ella could finish, Justine said. “Big Ed has approved the funding already, and the locks will appear as a short-term rental on the books.”

  “He was up early. What time is it?” Ella looked at the clock. It was a quarter to eight. “Did you guys get any sleep?”

  Justine shrugged. “I can’t speak for Em, but I figure I got three hours tops. I just couldn’t get the image of that little girl’s hand out of my mind,” she added softly.

  “So what’s with this skinwalker creep?” Emily asked Ella. “Did he think you’d fall apart or something?”

  “If I’m right, his goal was just to sidetrack our murder investigation. I can’t prove it yet, but I think the guy was Caleb Frank pretending to be a skinwalker.”

  Justine gave her an owlish blink. “So this had nothing to do with the power plant issue?”

  “No. The guy across the ditch all but admitted he was the one who threw the clod at me and tried to get a fight started at the last demonstration. His problem is related to me, my father, and the Divine Word Church. That all points to Caleb Frank,” Ella answered. “I just wish I had a photo of that guy.”

  “Me, too. But when it comes to Valerie Tso’s murder, my money’s still on Stan Brewster.” Justine stood, having finished breakfast. “Ready to go whenever you are.”

  Ella grabbed one of the breakfast bars from the table. “What’s your schedule today, Emily?”

  “I’m working the swing shift,” she said. “I’ll be here if Teeny or his people come by.”

  Ella and Justine were underway moments later. “Teeny’s working from home because it’s closer to Shiprock, so head there,” Ella said.

  “That place of his really creeps me out,” Justine answered as they hit the main highway. “I feel like I’m going to step on a land mine or something.”

  Ella shook her head. “If there’s one place in the planet where you and I are totally safe, it’s at Teeny’s.”

  When they reached the fenced perimeter just outside Teeny’s home, Justine glanced around. “Wow. He’s added more security,” she said, pointing to the cameras.

  “Ladies, the fence will open up in a second for you.” Teeny’s voice came from a speaker.

  They went inside Teeny’s home moments later. Sophisticated computer equipment on sturdy wooden tables covered much of the floor space in the living room. A lot of the hardware wasn’t at all familiar to Ella.

  “Word about what happened last night is spreading like wildfire,” Teeny said. “The skinwalker issue complicates everything. People are afraid that the ground has been contaminated and if the power plant is built there, it’ll only bring evil.”

  Ella nodded. “Before the protestors tried to claim it was holy ground. Now they’ll say it’s cursed. What’s worse is that this all took place right next to where the reactor vessel is going to be installed.”

  “What concerns me most is the threat—using your shirt and the ashes. That was directed at you, personally,” Teeny said, never making eye contact with her. “So, skinwalker or not, his days of freedom are numbered. You’ve got a lot of friends, and we’ll be there to watch your back.”

  Ella knew that not looking directly at her was a Navajo sign of respect, and his words and gesture touched her. “Thanks. It’s good to have buddies I can count on when the going gets rough.”

  “Don’t give it another thought. You’re covered,” he said gruffly, and then turned his attention back to the computer. “I’ve been trying to get something on Caleb Frank for you. But here’s the thing. I’ve got zero—no driver’s license, no birth record, nothing. So either that’s not his real name, or he’s existed under the radar all his life. Mind you, that’s not uncommon among Navajos who were born at home and grew up on the Rez. And people can change their Anglo names.”

  “So what now? Any suggestions?” Ella asked.

  “We move on until we get something new. I’ll be sending some people over to your house today,” he added, glancing at Justine. “By the time we’re through, the guy will have to be invisible to get anywhere near you three.”

  “Thanks. We appreciate it,” Justine answered.

  Soon they were on their way to the station. “Partner, I’m going to need you to find out where those ashes came from,” Ella said. “Specifically, I want to know if they have a biological origin.”

  “You’re thinking corpse powder?” Justine asked somberly.

  Ella nodded. They were both seasoned police officers able to take most crimes in stride, but things like these were in a category all their own. They’d encountered skinwalkers—Navajo witches—on other occasions, and experience warned them not to dismiss the power of rituals just because science didn’t sanction them.

  “I’ll get on it immediately. But skinwalkers are also known to use ashes taken from a killed hogan. Pine ashes are pine ashes, and we wouldn’t know the source,” Justine said.

  Ella nodded. A killed hogan was one where a death had taken place. They were usually easy to spot because of the hole on the side of the structure. “I’m just trying to determine how dedicated to the ritual he really was.” Anything directly connected to the dead had more power than something that was merely associated with it.

  After they reached the station, Justine went directly to her lab and Ella to her office. They’d been working for a little over an hour when Big Ed called for a meeting.

  Less than twenty minutes later, Ella and Justine entered the chief’s office. The rest of their team was already assembled there, waiting.

  Big Ed gestured for them to take a seat, then leaned back. “I want a full report on the Special Investigations Team’s progress. Go,” he said, giving Ella a nod.

  Ella filled him in on everything she’d learned so far. “But Teeny can’t find anything on Caleb Frank.”

  “If he can’t find it, it’s not there,” Big Ed said.

  “We’re still trying to pin down Brewster’s alibi. Marco Pete said that the man might have been at Valerie’s apartment that night.”

  Big Ed nodded. “So what’s your next step?”

  “I’m going to talk to Dorothy Yabeny’s relatives. I want to find out if they remember anything that might help us. In particular, I want to find out if she was seeing Caleb Frank, or anyone who matches his description.”

  “What else have you got on the truck that was used to torch the office building?” Big Ed asked, looking at Justine.

  “The perp stole it from a locked construction area reserved for vehicles of all kinds,” Justine answered.

  “A locked area…” Ella repeated, an idea forming in her head.

  Tache sat up. “I bet we’re dealing with a construction worker with access to keys, like one of the foremen?”

  Ella nodded. “I just had the same thought. Get me that list,” she said to Tache.

  Big Ed looked at Justine. “What specifics have you got on the little package the skinwalker left for Shorty?”

  Ella looked at Justine, eager for answers as well.

  “The ashes on the shirt, as well as what he scattered beside the foundation pit, were from cured lumber, not cottonwood or peeled pine logs like those used to construct hogan walls. Traces of green dye, the kind used to mark grades of lumber, were found in the analysis.”

  “That suggests we’re probably not dealing with a skinwalker at all. Just someone who wanted to create that impression, and cause more trouble at the work site,” Big Ed said thoughtfully.

  “Chief, the last two instances seem to have been instigated by the same individual, and not Benjamin Harvey. The guy with the camera that nobody seems able to identify is definitely out to create problems and might be our bogus skinwalker as well.” />
  “The guy with the hat and sunglasses—maybe the same guy who was at the church. Right, Ella?” Justine asked.

  She nodded. “I have a feeling that his real goal is to slow down the murder investigation by making sure he keeps us running in circles.”

  “Which suggests he’s either the killer, or someone trying to protect him.” Big Ed was about to say more when his phone rang. His expression darkened as he listened to the caller. “She’ll be there,” he said, then hung up.

  “We have a potential situation at the construction site,” Big Ed continued, looking at Ella. “I thought your brother did a protection ceremony there this morning.”

  “Blalock and I were there, and it seemed to go fine. What’s up now?”

  “That was Benjamin Harvey, the spokesman for the demonstrators. He needs to know what we’ve learned about last night—if it’s a real skinwalker or just some sick guy trying to pit the demonstrators against the workers again. Benjamin apparently got a call from the same guy, John, who tried to start a riot last time, the guy we were just discussing, who was more than willing to fill him in. He apparently called others, too. Benjamin doesn’t trust him so he’s going to hold off talking to the workers until he meets with you, Shorty.”

  “If Benjamin had been there this morning, he’d already know what is going on. But I’ll brief him on things, and see if he can get his people calmed down. Whoever’s behind this knows how powerful fear can be in creating disharmony—and in keeping the department tied up,” Ella said.

  “Go ahead, Ella, and see if we can finally put a stop to this nonsense,” Big Ed said.

  Ella glanced at Justine. “You’re coming with me this time. Bring a copy of your report on the evidence this wannabe skinwalker left behind,” Ella said.

  “You gonna need backup?” Joe Neskahi asked.

  “If we’re lucky, only the hataalii kind,” Ella answered. “Would you get hold of my brother and ask him to come back to the site?”

  “Good thinking, Shorty. If he can’t convince the skeptics that it’s safe, a lot of Navajos are going to be giving up their jobs. And those who stay might be in danger. Frenzy Medicine, you know,” Big Ed said. “There’s a rumor about that starting up.”