Changing Woman

by Thurlo, David

  Ella stared at the short piece, knowing in her heart where Jaime had gotten the information about an Indian syndicate. Rose must have inadvertently leaked information pertaining to the case. She’d taken the rare bits and pieces she’d learned from Ella at home, formulated her own theories to explain what was happening on the Rez, then used that to support her antigaming stand.

  Blaming herself more than her mother, Ella drove directly home. This time, they’d have to talk. Rose had the right to say whatever she wished but, as the mother of a high-ranking cop, she had to use more discretion.

  When Ella arrived, Rose was in the kitchen helping Jennifer compile a list of the grocery items they’d need the following day.

  Ella’s expression must have spoken volumes, because Dawn, who’d come in to say hello, gave her a fast hug and retreated to the living room. Jennifer excused herself just as quickly and went to take care of Dawn.

  Ella plopped the newspaper down on the table, opened to the page with the cartoon. “Mother, explain. Your name isn’t mentioned anywhere, but this cartoon figure sure looks a lot like you.”

  Rose looked up at her. “I do not have to explain myself to you, daughter.”

  Ella exhaled softly. “Mom, there’s something you have to understand. Because you’re the mother of a cop, your opinion will be seen as a mirror of what the police are thinking. In this case, today’s article suggesting that there’s an organized force battling against Navajo interests could end up jeopardizing the life of a contact of mine, probably another law enforcement officer.”

  Ella had expected to see contrition on her mother’s face, but although there was a touch of regret, Rose’s reaction surprised her.

  “I said nothing about your contact and you know it. On the rare occasions I’ve spoken to your reporter friend, I’ve stated my own opinions, nothing more, and I won’t stop having an opinion simply because my daughter’s a cop. It’s time you realize that I have a life separate from yours and that I’m entitled to that. You have no right to ask me to put your career ahead of the things I have to do.”

  Ella stared at her mother in surprise. Everything she’d said was true and, maybe because of that, she had no idea how to answer.

  “And just so you know, my belief that there’s a unified force battling those of us who are against gambling isn’t something I got from you. I’ve seen evidence of that myself, and I’ve heard many others talking about it.”

  Ella didn’t want to ask, but she had to do it. “Exactly what have you heard?”

  “There’s been talk among my friends that outsiders—members of the progaming factions from other tribes—are coming to the reservation. Some people say that they’ve been meeting with our leaders, trying to influence them.”

  “Mom, gossip is notoriously unreliable. What probably happened is that someone in tribal government was seen talking to a member of another tribe, someone who’s also involved in the gambling operations on that reservation or pueblo. That’s all it takes to start a rumor.”

  “It’s more than that, daughter. A friend of mine has seen outsiders meeting with some of our politicians. She won’t give me names, but I know her information can be trusted.” She held her hand up, stopping Ella before she could speak. “No, I won’t tell you who she is. She spoke to me in confidence and that’s how it’ll stay.”

  Ella suspected Rose meant Lena, but there was no way she’d know for sure if Rose refused to say more.

  “I’m tired. I’m going to watch TV, then go to bed,” Rose said, then walked out of the room.

  Ella stared at the empty chair her mother had occupied. The one constant she’d always had in her life had been the sense of security that had come from the same familiar routines at home, and Rose had been at the heart of that. But now, the things she’d taken for granted were changing, and nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

  The kitchen phone started ringing at precisely 7:12 the following morning. Assuming it was for her, Ella picked it up.

  “This is Ron Sanchez,” a man’s voice said, then proceeded to identify himself as a reporter for the largest newspaper in the state. “I’d like to speak to Rose Destea. Is she available?”

  Rose walked inside the kitchen and took the phone her daughter handed her. She listened for a moment, then answered. “I have never represented myself as a leader of the traditionalists,” she said firmly. “Some may refer to me that way, but it’s only because they happen to agree with what I’m saying.”

  Rose paused, and seeing Ella staring at her, deliberately turned her back. “Yes, I believe that there’s an organized criminal element working against us, hoping that we’ll open casinos and institute gaming. That’s one reason many of us are opposed to it.”

  Ella glanced at Jennifer, who was getting Dawn’s breakfast ready, then back at Rose. There had been a time when all early morning phone calls had been about police work. She suddenly found herself wishing for those good old days.

  Dawn ate from Ella’s lap, and holding her little girl and actually having time to play and feed her felt like heaven. But the pleasure of the moment ended way too soon. There was a knock at the door, and, when Ella went to answer it, she found a reporter from the tribal newspaper. By the time she called Rose to the door, Big Ed, who’d been unable to get through on her home number, called Ella on her cell phone. Ella gave him a quick update on her visit with Arthur Benjamin, then agreed to meet him later. She’d tell him about the editorial then.

  Ella showered and dressed quickly. She envied the women who were able to stay at home with their kids until they were in school. Seeing her daughter grow and change right before her eyes made her realize how fleeting her daughter’s childhood would be and how she’d have to take special care to treasure the moments. “Be very, very good for me today,” she told Dawn when she returned to the living room.

  Dawn threw her arms around her and gave her a kiss. “I’m a big girl. I take care of Shimasdni.”

  She smiled at her daughter then, giving her one last hug, left the house.

  Ella drove north, passing the stark volcanic neck of Ship Rock on the left as she headed to the station. Around here, the land was cold and dry, even more barren than usual in the depths of winter.

  Ten minutes later Ella entered the station and went directly to Big Ed’s office.

  He finished the report he’d been writing longhand as she took a seat, then looked up. “You want to tell me about Jaime’s editorial?”

  Ella winced. “Then you’ve seen it?”

  He nodded. “But I don’t hold you accountable. We can’t control the press.”

  Ella exhaled softly. “I’ve done my best to protect Coyote, Chief, but that story may cost him dearly. There’s something else you have to know. The information Jaime alluded to in the editorial may end up being attributed to information Rose got from me, but that’s not the case,” Ella said, and explained what Rose had told her.

  “Things are heating up, Shorty,” Big Ed said. “I think it’s time we held a meeting and let the FBI and others on your team know that we may be fighting an Indian mafia, not just isolated instances of vandalism and crime. It’s time to spell it out in black and white. We have a sniper to track down, that’s still critical. But that case is going to have to share our priorities now.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Then call everyone in and set up a meeting in my office.”

  “I’ll do that right away. One more thing. I’m thinking about getting a search warrant.” She told Big Ed about the fifty-caliber rifle at the Benjamin’s home.

  “That’s interesting, Shorty, but if that’s the weapon the sniper used to take a shot at you, I’ll eat my boots. Arthur Benjamin would never be that sloppy. Were they toying with you, you think?”

  Ella considered the possibility. “Maybe Arthur was, but not the nephew. I’m sure he didn’t have a clue.”

  “I’ll support whatever you decide, but tread carefully.”

  An
hour later, Ella, Justine, Tache, Neskahi, Paycheck, and Blalock came together for a formal meeting in Big Ed’s office.

  Ella opened the discussion. “We have reason to believe there’s an intertribal syndicate working on the Rez. Their goal is to get gaming passed by whatever means are necessary and then make sure their people are in key positions so they can rake a percentage off the operations.”

  “Like the old days in Nevada,” Neskahi said slowly and quietly. “I’ve heard those rumors. From that angle, the reason for all the crimes we’ve been experiencing is simple to explain—the more distracted the police are, the less likely we are to notice what they’re doing.”

  “That makes sense,” Justine said.

  Neskahi shrugged. “But there are others who believe that it’s the traditionalists who are spreading the rumor about a syndicate to make people afraid—that it’s all propaganda generated by antigaming forces to manipulate the People.”

  “There’s holes in that theory,” Ella said. “The traditionalists don’t want gaming, that’s true, but they’re not working against the tribe. They value order and harmony most of all, and spreading rumors promotes neither.”

  “Ella, I think everyone saw the newspaper cartoon focusing on the gambling issue, and it can’t be a mistake that the woman depicted there bears a striking resemblance to your mother. I know Rose hasn’t been letting her position on gaming remain a secret, but what does the newspaper know that we don’t? I’m getting vibes that maybe you’re holding back on us,” Justine said slowly. “But we’re a team, and we deserve your trust. How did you find out about this Indian mafia?”

  Ella hesitated. Everyone here deserved her trust. Justine was right about that. “I’ve been working with an informant. I can’t say anything more specific about this person except that both Big Ed and I trust the information that’s been passed on to me. This source warned me that there’s a major conspiracy unfolding. A Native American syndicate is working covertly to take over gambling operations on tribal lands all across the nation. They’re focusing on us now, the largest tribe in the country.”

  “You’re in touch with a fed, then?” Blalock said, and shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

  “Their plan has several steps,” Ella continued. ’The first part of their strategy is to discredit the existing tribal government and the police, creating a general lack of confidence in government. That opens the door to radical change.”

  “If that information is accurate, then we have a huge problem on our hands,” Tache said.

  “Nothing I’m telling you now is to leave this room, understood? My source is apparently on the inside, and one wrong move could cost him his life.” Seeing everyone nod, Ella continued. “This syndicate is said to be willing to back any politician, honest or dishonest, who’s in favor of gaming. I’ve been warned that they’ll use whatever methods are necessary—blackmail, intimidation, or worse—to force those they can’t defeat politically to vote for gaming when it comes before the Tribal Council.”

  “Just how long have they been in operation here on the Rez?” Neskahi asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I can tell you that last fall the syndicate, organized in small, autonomous units like terrorist cells, was responsible for framing me for Justine’s supposed murder. They wanted to destroy our Special Investigations Unit and perhaps bring down Big Ed as well. You all came through for me and we took that group down.” She paused. “But now another cell, with new people and tactics, is operating on or near the Rez. Their goal, from what we’ve seen, is to manipulate public opinion.”

  “But you have no hard physical evidence that this Indian syndicate even exists, do you?” Blalock asked slowly.

  “No, I don’t, but there are comments made on the record by one of those arrested last year that support the existence of the Indian mafia, and we also have circumstantial and anecdotal indications of it.”

  “The problem gathering evidence is that, to date, all we’ve done is arrest the bit players,” Big Ed said. “The ones pulling the strings have always eluded us.”

  “Like now. The two Anglos we caught don’t even know who they’re working for,” Justine said.

  Neskahi leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. “Here’s a thought. Abigail Yellowhair is very much progaming, and we know her husband was on the take for a long time. If she’s playing by his rules and is on the take as well, we may be able to use her to lead us to the others.”

  “She was an unsuccessful candidate for her husband’s office. Why would they bother to try and enlist her?” Justine said.

  “She may be of use to them in other ways,” Ella said, knowing Justine was a friend of the Yellowhairs and suspecting that would cloud her judgment. “But we have no proof she’s dirty, and we can’t judge her on her husband’s actions. The most we can do is keep an eye on her.”

  “That woman is a politician through and through,” Big Ed said. “If we’re seen to be making a move against her, we can expect her to retaliate—hard. Tread carefully, people.”

  “So we’ll have to be very subtle,” Ella said. Neskahi scowled. “We can’t work a case if we’re afraid to muddy the waters.”

  “Agreed, but we don’t want to tip our hand either,” Ella said firmly, “not until we’re ready to make our move.”

  Once the meeting ended, people began leaving, but Big Ed signaled for Ella to wait. As soon as they were alone, he gestured to a chair. “You told them more than I expected you to, Shorty,” he said.

  “I had no other choice. I just wish I could have told them more about Coyote. Everything I know about him so far tells me that he’s an undercover fed. I thought for a while that he was my old FBI partner, but there’s no way he could have infiltrated a group of Native Americans. Joe was very, very Anglo looking. My old supervisor, Henry Estrada is a better choice, but even as good as he is, he’d need months of work in order to manage such a ruse.”

  “If you figure out who Coyote is, Shorty, I want to know.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Ella went back to her office and found Payestewa waiting for her. “I’ve got something for you, Ella. Checking with the phone company, I’ve learned that the Indian who hired the two Anglo suspects called them from a cloned cell phone each time he made contact. We can’t trace him to any number, name, or residence.”

  “Great. More good news to add to my totally crappy day.”

  Blalock joined them a moment later, and Payestewa closed the door behind him.

  “We need to tell you something that you’ll have to keep confidential for now,” Payestewa said.

  “Of course, you’re free to tell Big Ed,” Blalock added.

  “All right. What’s up?”

  The young Hopi agent cleared his throat. “Originally, I was sent here by the Bureau to keep tabs on the Indian syndicate you’re trying to get a handle on now. They felt, after assimilating all the available intel, that the syndicate would concentrate on the Navajo Rez next. They were right, but I still haven’t been able to identify the players yet, except those we caught last fall who set you up for Officer Goodluck’s apparent death.”

  “Do you have any suspects at all?” Ella asked, wondering if he was Coyote, then nixing the idea. Payestewa was no undercover operative walking the line. He was already becoming well known in the area, and couldn’t be in two places at the same time.

  “All I know is that there are two key individuals in the area—each working independently of the other—which implies two independent cells controlled from the outside. There’s also reason to believe that neither knows the identity of the other, which is consistent with the strategy of cells. If you don’t know who the other players are, you can’t rat them out.”

  Ella looked over at Blalock. He was a man who didn’t like to ask anyone for anything. Having the Bureau send in a second team must have stung. “How long have you known about Paycheck’s real assignment here?”

  “He couldn’t tel
l me right away. I only found out about it a few days after Justine was rescued. I was mad as hell when I heard about it, too. I don’t like the Bureau playing games behind my back on my turf.”

  “And until now you were under orders not to tell me?” Ella asked Blalock.

  “I couldn’t even say anything to Big Ed. I was ordered to keep my mouth shut until the Bureau was sure which local Navajo cops could be trusted.”

  “We’re sure that Big Ed, you, and your team can be trusted, Ella,” Payestewa said, “but outside that, we can’t tell the good guys from the bad. There are people we suspect, of course, but we’ve got nothing on them.”

  “Like who?” Ella asked.

  “George Branch, the radio talk show rabble-rouser, for one. He’s very much progaming but, like it is with Mrs. Yellowhair, it’s hard to say if he’s acting out of conviction or something more sinister.”

  “Remember that about a year ago we saw some Native Americans meeting with Branch in a sweat lodge in the middle of nowhere,” Blalock said. “We’ve yet to identify those guys, though one of the men warned your officer Tache off with gunfire.”

  “Branch is a hard case. You can forget getting anything out of him. And Mrs. Yellowhair, like most of the progaming big names here, has a lot of clout in the community. Investigating them without a lot of grief is going to be impossible.”

  “There’s another Navajo who bears looking into, and you’re the person in the best position to do it,” Blalock said.

  “You mean Kevin,” Ella said, guessing where he was going.

  Blalock nodded. “Some people believe that the progaming forces practically paid for his election.”

  “That’s probably true,” Ella conceded, “but now that he’s in office, Kevin has apparently backpedaled on them. He’s leaning toward another public referendum. That’s something that progaming factions are fighting because the Navajo Nation has voted it down every time it’s come up. If anything, Kevin’s their enemy now.”

  “He may be on his way to becoming that, but the progaming people aren’t giving up on him yet. A good source tells me Jefferson Blueeyes has been putting a lot of pressure on Kevin to return to his original position and not alienate his supporters,” Payestewa pointed out.