Changing Woman

by Thurlo, David

  As Ella thought of home, she began to wonder how things were going back there. She hoped Rose was getting along with Gloria. Her mom could be impossible when she chose to be. Sometimes Ella just wasn’t sure what would drive her crazy first—Rose, Dawn, or her job.

  Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. “People, if we don’t do something soon, I’m going to be shaking too hard to shoot straight,” Ella said. “We’re just not equipped to pull an all-nighter.”

  “What she said,” Neskahi added.

  “I never knew you were a wuss, Ella,” Payestewa teased.

  “Meet me at the gym sometime. We’ll compare wuss factors,” she shot back.

  “Okay, boys and girls. It’s time to make our move,” Blalock said, his voice shaky from the cold. “But I’d reconsider that ladder if I were you, Ute. I’ve checked it out with my binoculars, and it looks like it’s been outside in the elements for a long, long time. I’m not sure it’ll hold that extra weight you’ve put on lately.”

  “I’ll go up instead,” Ella said. “Harry outweighs me by fifty pounds or more, and I’m lighter on my feet.” Which had probably frozen and fallen off during their extended surveillance, Ella realized. She just hadn’t gotten around to noticing yet.

  “You might have a point,” Harry said, conceding. “Okay, we’ll both go, Ella, and I’ll cover your back.”

  “Give the rest of us a chance to move in close enough to cover you first,” Blalock said. “If he starts blasting, we want to be able to take him down immediately.”

  “I’m for that,” Ella said, adjusting the bulletproof vest she now wore whenever she was out. The additional warmth it provided had been very welcome today.

  “All right. We’re going in, low and slow, everyone at once. I’ll let you know as soon as we’re in position.” Blalock said.

  Ella flexed her hands, trying to get the blood rushing through them again, then took off her gloves and placed them in her pockets. She’d want the extra dexterity, just in case shooting began.

  “Okay, Ella, Harry, go!” Blalock muttered into the radio once the rest of them had crawled closer to the hogan.

  Ella slipped her radio onto her belt as she crouched, then moved quickly and silently across the frozen earth, reaching the west side of the hogan a few steps ahead of Harry. Grabbing the wooden ladder, she yanked it off the ground and swung it upright. With only a quick glance toward the entrance of the hogan, she propped the ladder up against the side of the hogan at a safe angle.

  Harry was there now, pistol out. He held the ladder for her with his other hand, and nodded.

  Ella stepped onto the ladder and climbed up, trying to ignore the creak of the wood. Clambering onto the claycovered roof, she inched up on hands and knees toward the charcoal-rimmed smoke hole in the center, listening for any sounds within.

  The wind was whistling around her now and she was being pelted by blowing sand. She held her breath as she approached the opening. Her heart hammered against her sides as she considered the possibility that he was waiting for her, and she’d get a bullet right between the eyes.

  But if she looked quickly and ducked back, by the time his brain registered her presence and sent the message to his trigger finger, she’d be out of sight again. At least that was the theory. But what if he were already squeezing the trigger?

  Images of Dawn came unbidden into her thoughts. Swallowing back her fear, Ella peeked inside, then ducked away.

  It had been pretty dim inside the hogan, but the dwelling had appeared empty except for a slight warmth and the glow of coals directly below. But she’d caught a glimpse of an object close to the entrance.

  She moved back for a closer look, and still no gunfire came. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she was able to confirm her suspicions about the doorway.

  “No one’s in the hogan,” she said in a normal voice, turning to look at Harry, who was at the top of the ladder. “But had we tried to rush the door, we would have been history. There’s a trip wire, and enough explosives in a box by the entrance to blow us all to kingdom come.”

  She heard Harry advise Blalock on the radio, but something else held her attention now. She leaned over the opening and stuck her head farther in, using the flashlight she’d taken from her pocket. “At least there’s some good news. There’s no fuse this time. The bomb is set on a timer.”

  “How much time’s left?”

  “I don’t know. It’s too small to see clearly. But there are at least four digits.”

  Her radio crackled at the same time Harry’s did. “Get off of there, you two,” Blalock advised. “And don’t touch a thing. I’m calling your bomb-disposal unit. If they can’t handle it, then the ATF or county people will.”

  “Dwayne, don’t you remember? Our bomb-disposal unit is made up of one guy, Sam Pete,” Ella said. “And I can tell you he hasn’t done anything this complicated in a long time—if ever. Wires and detonators and other devices are tied together down there. It looks like a high school science project. If I were you, I’d get on the phone to the ATF.”

  Rose Destea stood at the window, watching the moon rise in the east, bathing the hills that had stood as their guardians since their clan first moved to this land generations ago. There was an odd stirring in her soul tonight. Even the mountains and the gray clouds billowing from their heights looked troubled. Something was wrong, and she could feel it. A mother knew things about her children without ever having to be told. It was an instinct nearly as old as the four sacred hills that surrounded them.

  Ella was in danger somewhere out there on this cold night. Rose could feel it with every breath she took. She glanced over at Dawn, who was playing quietly on the living room floor. She was usually an active child but, tonight, she was as moody as her grandmother. Though she didn’t dare ask, Rose could have sworn that the child sensed the same thing she did.

  Gloria Washburn placed a gentle hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  Rose gritted her teeth. It bothered her having a stranger touch her, and, as a Navajo, the young woman should have known better. But the newer generations seldom spared a thought to the old traditions of their culture. “I’m fine, thank you,” Rose said, moving away and going toward the hall.

  “I wish you would let me do something for you, like fix you a bite to eat,” Gloria called out. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

  “You have taken care of my granddaughter’s meals, and that’s enough for now. I’ll eat later when my daughter returns.”

  Gloria exhaled softly, then sat down on the floor to play with Dawn.

  Rose looked around what had once been her husband’s study. It was now part office, part sewing room, but it still felt like John’s domain. Sitting down on one of the upholstered chairs, she looked down at her hands. Even without the injury, they still belonged to an old woman. She’d always made it a point to hide her age from her children, but in another two months she would turn sixty-six.

  Rose stood before the mirror. The soft wrinkles on her face spoke of more than years, they reflected a life often punctuated by harshness. Yet, inside, she still clung to her hopes and dreams, waiting for the right time to act on them, just like when she’d been twenty.

  Rose reached into her pocket and brought out a photo taken at the Chapter House party a few months ago. Herman Cloud stood beside her, close but not touching. After John’s death, she’d thought she’d never fall in love again. She’d thought herself too old for that nonsense. But she knew now that she had feelings for Herman. He saw the world with the same weary eyes that she did and yet, like her, he burned with the same need to protect the legacy of the Dineh.

  She placed the photo back in her pocket. Some things were better kept from one’s children.

  Feeling a tug of her long skirt, Rose looked down and smiled at her granddaughter. “What is it, hatsóí, my daughter’s child?”

  “Shimá coming home now,” Dawn said in a very certain voice.

  Rose looked
at her granddaughter. All the women in their family had received the gift of intuition, and Dawn seemed to have gotten an early start.

  “She’ll be here, soon,” Rose said.

  Dawn nodded. “Coming home,” she repeated firmly, then returned to her toys.

  Rose smiled. At least her granddaughter wasn’t boring. So much of life these days was. That was one of the main reasons she’d become so involved in trying to keep gambling off the Rez. Even at her age, Rose knew she still had a lot to offer the tribe. She loved taking care of her daughter and granddaughter, but she now wanted more out of her life than that.

  SEVEN

  Ella crouched beside Sam Pete on the roof of the old hogan, a bit warmer now that she’d borrowed an extra coat from the bomb squad officer. ATF would not be able to respond for another hour, so Sam was all they had.

  Sam hadn’t been able to examine the bomb layout inside through the smoke hole without using heavy binoculars and a large, powerful flashlight. He’d had trouble aiming both at the precise spot simultaneously, so Ella had volunteered to hold the light for him.

  Since both the entrance and hole in the side had been crossed with trip wires that would set off the detonator, Sam’s plan was to use the ladder to climb down through the smoke hole and disarm the bomb.

  “Shine the light on that timer now, so I can see exactly how many minutes I’m going to have to disarm the device,” Sam asked.

  Ella moved the beam of light toward the small black timer, not much larger than a wristwatch display, which lay on top of a mass of duct tape, sticks of explosives, batteries, wires, and pieces of cardboard. Without the binoculars, she couldn’t read the numbers on the timer, though she was less than ten feet above the bomb.

  “It looks like I have fifteen minutes left,” Sam called to Ella loud enough for the others, at a safe distance away, to hear. “That’s enough time for me to disarm it by disconnecting the batteries leading to the detonator.”

  Together, they pulled the narrow ladder up onto the domed roof of the hogan, and lowered it inside through the smoke hole, maneuvering it carefully so it didn’t make contact with any wires or portion of the bomb. While Ella lit his way with the flashlight, Sam squeezed himself carefully through the narrow opening and went down.

  Crouched beside the bomb, Sam looked at it more closely. “This is more complicated than I thought,” he said, taking at least another five minutes to examine the device without touching anything. At long last, he reached into his jacket pockets and brought out two wire cutters.

  “We’ve still got a few minutes, but I don’t dare move anything because I just don’t know what’s underneath all that duct tape—maybe a mercury switch that will set it off if I jiggle things. The best bet is still to simultaneously cut the two wires leading to the batteries. Ella, you’d better put some distance between you and the hogan. I’m making an educated guess here, that’s all,” Sam said, looking up at her.

  “Who’s going to hold the light? You need both hands to cut the wires at the same time. You’re stuck with me, Sam,” Ella replied, giving him a thumbs-up.

  “Okay, then,” he said with a nod. “Here goes.”

  He knelt down and positioned both cutters on the wires leading to the batteries, then holding his breath, snipped both at once. The only sound either one of them could hear was the wind whistling through the cracks in the hogan walls.

  “Oh-oh,” Sam said. “These batteries must be dummies. The real ones are probably somewhere inside all that duct tape.” He paused, then shouted. “It’s started a twenty second countdown! Get out of here, Ella.”

  Sam virtually ran up the ladder, and Ella grabbed hold of his arms and yanked him onto the roof.

  Sliding down on her behind, Ella dropped off the roof without even considering the distance. She hit the frozen ground hard, rolled from the impact, then took off running. “Head for the ditch,” she yelled at Sam, who was a few seconds behind her.

  “Fire in the hole!” Sam yelled as he sprinted up even with her. He reached out to grab her hand, then tripped over a clump of brush and fell flat on his face.

  “Keep going!” Sam yelled, scrambling to stand, but Ella turned back and yanked him to his feet.

  “Now we’ll go!” Ella saw the ditch ahead and jumped down into it, Sam beside her.

  “Cover your ears,” Sam said, ducking down.

  Time seemed to stand still. Ella didn’t know how many seconds had gone by, but nothing happened.

  “Well, is it going off, or not?” she asked.

  “It’s cold. Maybe the batteries—” Sam’s words were drowned out as a deafening roar shook the earth around them, blowing chunks of log and earth over their heads. The wave of heat that enveloped them was almost a welcome relief from the bitter cold, but the shock wave left her ears ringing. Debris rained all around them.

  As she turned her head, she saw Sam Pete. He was smiling, though his face was covered with dust and grime. “You say something?”

  Ella stood by the SUV, now closer to the blasted ruins of the hogan, with Blalock beside her. “This was a real well planned setup,” she said, still brushing off the dirt and dust. “If anyone had tried to crawl in through the side hole or the entrance, they would have died in the explosion. And the timer was set to go off as soon as it got dark, around the time anyone staking out the place might have decided to make their move. I have a feeling that Manyfarms let himself be seen by someone he knew would recognize him just to draw us here, hoping some of us would be caught by the bomb delivered by the Indian with the hat. I’m sure Artie Manyfarms knows Harry’s on his tail, and would ask for backup from someone he knew and trusted.”

  “Agreed. But that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding him,” Blalock answered, “or whoever the guy was who prepared the surprise.”

  “I owe you big-time, Ella,” Sam Pete said, joining them.

  She accepted the cup of coffee he was offering her from his thermos bottle. “Don’t give it another thought,” she said, her voice still unsteady. “Helping each other is part of the job.”

  Sam shook his head. “I won’t forget that you stuck with me. That took balls, Ella.”

  “Er... thanks, I think. But, to be honest, I really felt we’d both reach the ditch with a few seconds to spare.” Had she considered it at length, and weighed the odds more carefully, she wasn’t sure she would have still stayed back to haul Sam to his feet. She owed herself and her family more than that. And one look at Blalock’s face told her that he thought she’d been recklessly loyal or stupid. She couldn’t tell which.

  “Okay. Let’s move on,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee, which was surprisingly warm.

  “I’ll gather up all the pieces and reconstruct the device. As soon as I have something, I’ll let you know,” Sam said.

  Ella saw the anger and determination on his face, and didn’t doubt his resolve for a minute. Sam would do his best to come through for her.

  “Let’s start searching,” Ella said. “With this wind, we may lose bits of crucial evidence if we wait until morning.”

  “I’ll get a lantern from the back of my car,” Blalock said.

  Neskahi joined them at the tail end of the discussion. “I’ll take Ralph Tache back for the crime-scene van. It has floodlights and a generator.”

  They spent the next three hours searching the carefully marked off perimeter with methodical precision. Due to the harsh weather and wide debris field, Tache used a video camera equipped with flood lamps to physically record the crime scene. Every shred of material—plastic, metal, or paper—that might have been part of the device was filmed, coded by site location, and photographed in place before being bagged and tagged.

  At long last everyone gathered by Blalock’s sedan. “Okay. What do we have?”

  Sam Pete was the first one to speak. “The explosives look like the same type and brand as those used in the random bombings we’ve been having, except that this one had a timer and electrical detonator instead of
a nonelectrical blasting cap and fuse.”

  “Then we’ve already uncovered something important,” Ella said. “Manyfarms must have made contact with the people responsible for the bombings, and one of them placed the bomb for him.”

  “I managed to lift some prints from the silver pickup we suspect was used in the sniper incident,” Justine added. “I’ll process them tonight before I call it a day.”

  “Look, we’re all half-frozen,” Ella said. “And it’s been a long night. Let’s head home and get an early start tomorrow.”

  Justine shook her head. “First, those prints, then I’ll crash.”

  “I’m with you, Ella,” Blalock said, and Neskahi concurred. “Better to get a fresh start in the morning than work when we’re so tired we could miss something important.”

  Payestewa remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Is something bothering you, Lucas?” Ella asked at last.

  He considered his answer carefully. “It appears to me that we were set up by a group of people, not just one or two. That means we, meaning the Bureau, need to get more actively involved in the vandalism investigations the Tribal PD have been handling exclusively till now, particularly in this area. The lesser crimes appear to be linked to the major ones.”

  Ella said nothing. She hated the thought of feds crawling around the Rez handling their case, but it could have been worse. Blalock and Payestewa’s connections would be helpful. And Harry … well, at least he was Navajo.

  As everyone got ready to leave, Ella smiled when she saw Harry putting his rifle on the rack in the back of his pickup. The habit was shared by most on the reservation. He may be a deputy federal marshal now, but he belonged to the Rez and the Rez to him.