by Aimée
She smiled as she read about his day, then sent a reply telling him bits and pieces of her own. She also promised to visit him in person soon, though she didn’t mention the business that would bring her there. That was something better done eye-to-eye.
She also sent a short note to Carolyn, knowing she’d check her mail before going to bed, and again before work. It was too late to call her now about the preliminary autopsy report, but in her post she assured Carolyn they’d meet the following day.
Once her posts were mailed, she visited the gardening forum and, finally, a virtual museum in Copenhagen she was fond of browsing. Downloading the art and viewing it right there in her room was like taking a mini vacation without ever leaving home. After a while, the thought occurred to her that she might be able to find out a little more background about Senator Yellowhair on one of the Internet databases. Using one of the search engines, she typed in “Yellowhair” and “Navajo,” and waited while electronic fingers searched computer files nationwide for any links to her query.
Soon a list of possible links appeared at the bottom of the screen. Scrolling down a few political and biographical articles on James Yellowhair, Ella was surprised to find a corporate database reference to Angelina.
After quickly establishing the hookup, realizing that she was going to be paying a handsome surcharge for this business link, Ella read that Angelina Yellowhair was the owner of a company called Four Corners Trust, Inc.
Searching for other links to that corporation, Ella learned that Four Corners Trust held thousands of shares in the Regional Power plant and coal mining company. Angelina was—or had been, a wealthy young woman.
Ella realized almost immediately that the shares must have been purchased by the senator in his daughter’s name, through a dummy corporation. The senator had wanted to hide his investments from the public, obviously. This certainly put a new slant on Angelina’s death. Just what direction that slant might take, Ella had no idea. But she was going to start looking into it tomorrow when she’d be able to take advantage of whatever she found.
Still not ready for bed, Ella logged off the Net and started up her never-ending game of computer solitaire. After several minutes of that, her eyelids began to grow heavy.
Ella saved the game and crawled into bed. As the gray clouds slowly closed in over her thoughts and exhaustion won its nightly victory, she heard the cry of a coyote in the far distance. Too weary to fight her way back to alertness, she sighed and settled into her pillow, continuing her passage into oblivion.
* * *
Ella woke up slowly as the sun peered through a foot-wide gap in the curtains. Tossing the covers back, she checked the clock on her nightstand. It was just after 6:00 A.M. She walked to the window, ready to close the drapes, and saw her mother offering pollen to the dawn. Morning prayers. It was the sameness of things that afforded Ella the greatest comfort. She was glad she’d returned to live on the reservation. There was no other place quite like it.
Ella showered and dressed, then walked to the kitchen. Her mother was there before her, fixing breakfast. “I made you some hot cereal,” Rose said.
“Thanks.” It wasn’t that she was hungry, but breakfast with her mother was sometimes the only time they had to talk and be together. Of course it was a ritual that was far more important to her mother, since Rose spent most of her time alone nowadays.
“You have to find other interests beside your computer and your work. It’s not right. You’re young. You should be enjoying your youth.”
“I am. I love my life right now.”
“You’re not building something that will sustain you when you become old like me.”
“What sustains you, Mom?”
“You do, and Clifford and his wife, and my grandson. He’s a bright child with a future that’s yet to be determined. I’m needed here.”
Ella covered her mother’s hand with her own, gazing down thoughtfully. Her hand was simply a younger version of the one she now touched. Sometimes the similarities between them amazed her. Her heart often whispered that what her mother was she would someday be, when the wheel of fate completed one full turn. “We’re alike in a lot of ways. A sense of duty drives us.”
“We are alike, and that’s why I worry about you. I don’t want you to wake up someday and feel that somehow you’ve missed the most important part of being a woman. Don’t tell me you don’t think about having a child, what it would be like, and how quickly the time is passing for you.”
“Yes, it’s true that I think about that sometimes, but I also know that the way I’ve chosen to live my life is right for me. There was a time when being a wife defined and satisfied me, but after my husband died, I found a new direction for myself. The life’s walk we choose determines our options. I answer a need in law enforcement, and that’s how I fulfill myself. I’m happy being who I am now.”
Rose shook her head. “My heart aches for you, daughter. I’m afraid that one day you will want what you’ve turned away from now. And when that day comes, you may find that it’s too late.”
“It’s a risk I have to take.” Ella stood up and went to the sink. “I’ll do the dishes if you want to work in your herb garden.”
“It’s mid April and weeds are already starting to show up,” Rose said with a sigh. “But the weeding will wait a little bit longer. This morning I need to talk to you.” She paused for a long time, but Ella didn’t rush her. “I’ve heard about the murder of that mechanic at the mine, and I’ve seen the look on people’s faces and heard the talk. There is division among the tribe. There are traditionalists who, like me, still cling to the old ways and see that as the only way to survive as a people. Then there are the modernists like Justine and Carolyn. And then, there are many who are lost in between, like those kids who say they’re members of nothing except for the gangs they join. Our tribe is under attack and most of our people don’t even realize it.”
“I know, Mom, but the Dineh will get through it as we have other hard times.”
“The outcome, I’m afraid, will depend on those who, like you, have not chosen sides yet. They’ll ultimately give one side or the other the numbers to make the changes needed. But those decisions must be made soon, otherwise events will take their own course and decide our future. It’s not fashionable these days to believe in evil, but it exists. There are those who use it, and those who are used by it. Guard yourself not only against those who create the incidents, but against the ones who stand by and try to use them to their own advantage.”
Her mother hadn’t mentioned skinwalkers, but Ella thought that was what was going through her mind. Whether one believed in the magical powers attributed to them, or not, didn’t make them any less formidable as opponents. They knew how to manipulate people and how to confuse and frighten. They were enemies both of her clan and of the tribe.
Ella accompanied her mother out the back door to the herb garden. “Of course this trouble may just be the product of criminal activity here on the reservation. We may be reading much more into it than there is.”
Rose smiled slowly. “You don’t believe that any more than I do, so please be careful, daughter. Our family has enemies that will take any opportunity to destroy us. But they’re cowards. They won’t fight us as a family, they’ll try to take us down one by one.”
“If anyone threatens you or if you’re ever afraid, just tell me,” Ella said. Their family had come under attack in the past. She hadn’t sat by idly then, and she wouldn’t now.
“Always the fighter. You want to meet every threat with guns and bullets. But there are other ways to fight.”
“That depends on what you’re fighting,” Ella said, leaning over to kiss her mother. “I’ve got to go back inside and get ready for work.”
Ella left home shortly after seven and drove directly to the police station. As she walked into what had once been Peterson Yazzie’s office and was now her own, she felt a shudder travel up her spine. On the reservation, crime someti
mes had a different identity. Her adversaries were too often faceless and hidden behind superstitions that were as old as the tribe itself.
She forced such thoughts from her mind. This wasn’t the time to indulge in fantasy. She had a very real murder to investigate. Ella tried calling Carolyn at the hospital, but only got her voice mail. After leaving a message, she began her daily paperwork. A few minutes later, Ella heard footsteps and glanced up to see Justine at the office door.
“May I have some time off this morning, or will you need me?” she asked.
“How much time do you need?” Ella asked.
“A few hours. I want to go to Angelina’s funeral.”
“They’ve already made arrangements?”
“It was in this morning’s paper. I think the senator pulled out all the stops to get it in there. The service is going to take place in about an hour.”
Ella regarded her for several seconds. “You know what? I’m going to go with you.”
“You want to see who’ll be there?”
“You bet. There’s something about that accident that bothers me. I have a feeling that we’re going to end up uncovering a real can of worms.”
Justine nodded. “Why don’t we go together then.”
Ella was reaching for her jacket when the telephone rang. “Special Investigator’s office,” she said quickly.
“Have you heard that the memorial service for the senator’s daughter will be today, this morning in fact,” Rose asked.
“You’re not thinking of going, are you?” Ella asked. Her mother was a traditionalist Navajo. The last thing Ella could imagine Rose doing was attending a function for the dead.
“Me? Absolutely not, but I thought you should know, particularly because it strikes me as so artificial.”
“How so?”
“The senator’s wife is active in your father’s church, but the senator himself usually keeps his distance to avoid prejudicing traditional voters. It seems this time he’s trying to cover himself with the traditionalists by saying that it’s a memorial service, not a funeral, and the burial has already taken place. Of course he’s not going to appease anyone. Traditionalists believe in the four-day mourning period where the name of the deceased isn’t even mentioned so a memorial service within that time is, at best, ill-planned.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Ella hung up, then hurried out to join Justine.
The ride to the church took almost half an hour. Ella stared at the structure, hating its presence because of the cost it had exacted from her family. “There are times when I wish this building would disappear off the face of the earth,” Ella muttered. “Whenever I look at it I feel as if someone had dropped bricks on my chest.”
“It’s understandable,” Justine said. “Why don’t you let me go in alone? I can handle this.”
“No. It’s part of my job. I won’t back away for personal reasons.”
Justine nodded slowly. “I can understand. I wouldn’t either if the situation was reversed.”
“Let’s get busy then.”
As they stepped out of Ella’s Jeep, Justine noticed the senator and his wife standing by the door, greeting the handful of people who’d showed up. “I’d like to talk to the family, if you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to focus on the others who’ve come. Later, we can compare notes.”
As the mourners gathered and went inside, Ella chose a pew near the back. Five young women had shown up. Ella recognized Mary Tapahonso. Rose was a friend of Mary’s mom, and Ella had heard about the wild crowd that Mary ran around with. Present, too, was Evelyn Todacheene. The girl had recently been brought in to the station after having been caught shoplifting.
Three other young women she didn’t recognize were also there. Ella suspected they were Angelina’s classmates. One in particular didn’t seem to fit with the rest. She wore her hair short, dyed a carrot-like red, and was clad in black clothes with what looked like underwear on the outside. The diamond-stud nose ring she wore was the focus of attention. Ella glanced over at Justine, then allowed her gaze to drift over the women, a question in her eyes. Justine nodded, understanding.
As the memorial service progressed, each of the girls stood up and tearfully shared memories of their friend. But it was the last young woman, Diamond Nose, who took them all by surprise. Her stance warned Ella even before she spoke a word.
“My name is Ruby Atso, and I’ve got to tell you all that Angelina would have hated this tear fest. She was a free spirit who refused to bow down to rules and ceremonies. Angelina was my friend and I loved her, but I think that we should cut this short and go remember her in the way she would have liked. If you ask me, she would have much preferred for us to get together with a six pack of long necks and talk about the good times. I’m sorry if what I’m saying offends you, but I know that somewhere Angelina is laughing right now.”
Senator Yellowhair rose quickly to usher the girl away, but Ruby was already heading for the door along with a short, pudgy yet scholarly looking girl. Ella watched, struggling not to smile. Ruby’s behavior had been undeniably rude, but it was an honest response and, as a cop, she’d learned to value honesty as the rare commodity it was.
The service ended shortly afterward and Ella met Justine by the Jeep. “Do you know who the girls were?”
Justine nodded. “Ruby, you just met. Chances are it’ll be a long, long time before the senator forgets her, too.”
Ella smiled. “Kinda strange, wasn’t she?”
“That group of Angelina’s is like that. They’re all freshmen at the college. The short one who left with Ruby is Norma Frank. She’s smart as a whip and, in my opinion, she’s going to go far. She knows she can’t rely on looks. Let’s face it, contact lenses aren’t going to help her much so she uses the assets she’s got: her brains and personality. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like her. Norma’s really a nice kid and lives a few miles from my place. She was really quiet until last year when her mom died. I think she’s sowing some wild oats now because she’s never been able to before.”
“That makes more sense now. She seemed out of place around the others. Let’s get all we can on these kids, okay? I want a full background report on each of them. As soon as you finish one, put it on my desk.”
“No problem.”
They drove back to the office, Ella at the wheel of her Jeep. “I’m going to make a stop by the morgue for the autopsy reports. You don’t mind a detour, do you?”
Justine hesitated noticeably before answering. “No, that’s okay,” she said finally.
“I know it’s not the most cheerful place in the world, but it doesn’t really bother you, does it?”
“Honestly?” As Ella nodded, Justine continued. “It gives me the creeps, but not because of the chindi. It’s just a creepy place, with shattered bodies all over the room. I don’t know how Dr. Roanhorse can stand working there.”
“Neither do I,” Ella admitted. “But it’s a good thing she can. Without her, the tribe would probably have to do without an M.E., because the salary we can offer wouldn’t be competitive. The tribe owes her a debt of gratitude. She should be treated with more dignity and respect.”
“I don’t think being such a loner bothers her,” Justine said softly. “As a matter of fact, she really goes out of her way to keep people from getting too close to her, even though you’d think she’d want friends.”
“She does want friends, I think. It’s just that she’s been so isolated because of her job for such a long time, she’s built barriers around herself to keep it from hurting.”
As Ella entered the hospital’s parking lot, Justine looked, deep in thought, at an indeterminate spot across the way. “Do you mind if I stop by the cafeteria on the way downstairs? My sister-in-law works there, and I’d like to talk to her. She knew Angelina far better than I did. She would have been at the memorial service, too, but her supervisor wouldn’t let her take off any more time. She used up all her leav
e when she got married last month.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
Ella parked near the side door, said good-bye to Justine, then went downstairs to the morgue. As usual the floor was quiet and, though fitting, the silence made her shudder. As she entered Carolyn’s office, she heard the sounds of country western music coming from the autopsy suite.
Ella peered inside cautiously and saw Carolyn cleaning up. The acrid smell of disinfectant stung her nostrils.
Carolyn looked up. “I got your E-mail and the message you left on my voice mail. I’ve been expecting you. Come in, but be careful where you step.”
Normally she would have asked Carolyn why she was cleaning up in the middle of the day but, at the moment, she didn’t think she wanted to know. “What’s up?”
“First of all, I have some info on the Bitah case. I found tiny slivers of French Walnut embedded in the victim’s skull. The murder weapon was probably a leg from a chair or table.”
“Great,” grumbled Ella. “Now all I have to do is find somebody with a three-legged chair and haul them in.”
“It’s probably firewood by now.” Carolyn shrugged. “I also found out that Bitah had traces of mescaline in his system, but not enough to have affected him at the time of his murder. He might have been a member of a church that uses peyote during their rituals, like the Native American Church.”
Ella nodded. “What else did you find out?”
“The blood at the murder scene wasn’t all Bitah’s. Two of the smaller spots were type AB. Bitah was type O. The subject with AB probably suffered just a minor cut, or a nosebleed. I’d guess Bitah got in a punch or two. He might have even marked the killer or killers.”
“What about the senator’s daughter? Have you got anything on that yet?” Ella asked.
“I’ve got the report ready on the blood and fluid workup we did on her. It’s interesting, to say the least, considering Bitah’s tests. I found very high levels of mescaline in her system, which came from more than two partially digested, ground-up peyote buttons in her stomach. That drug would certainly account for her erratic behavior prior to the accident. It would have induced hallucinations.”