Changing Woman

by Thurlo, David

  Ella gave Payestewa a respectful look. “Your sources are good.”

  “Even though I’m a Hopi, right?” He finished her thought with a chuckle.

  Ella laughed. “Yeah, but I didn’t say it, you did.” She glanced at Blalock, who shrugged. “I know about Blueeyes, but I also know that when it comes down to it, Kevin makes up his own mind.”

  “Blueeyes is Navajo, but he was raised off the Rez,” Payestewa said. “I also know for a fact that he has close ties to the activists on the Arizona side of the Navajo Nation. He bears watching.”

  Ella looked at Payestewa closely. She’d always suspected there was more to him than met the eye, but it irritated her to know that the Hopi agent was more informed than she was on this. She’d do better from now on. “Okay, I’ll take it from here. If there’s a problem we should all be aware of, I’ll let you know.”

  FOURTEEN

  As soon as Payestewa and Blalock left her office, Ella called Justine. “Get me absolutely everything you can on Jefferson Blueeyes—Kevin Tolino’s aide.”

  “How soon do you need it?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Ella pulled up the files the tribe had on both Kevin and Blueeyes and studied them carefully. She was familiar with most of what it contained about Kevin, but Jefferson Blueeyes was another matter. She knew practically nothing about him.

  His file, however, was of little help. It listed his education, his date of birth, and other factual and career data she could have found almost anywhere. The information looked like resume filler, which was probably where it came from.

  Justine came in a moment later. “I figured you’d pull up that file yourself, so I didn’t bother,” she said, looking at Ella’s screen. “What I do have is a bit more anecdotal, but my informant is good as gold.”

  Ella looked at Justine and smiled. She should have known that there’d be no substitute for her cousin’s contacts in the community. Justine came from a big family. “Okay, give.”

  “Blueeyes is a bit of a enigma around tribal government offices. He makes friends easily, but apparently he’s not close to anyone, at least openly. He’s single, reasonably good-looking, and makes a good income, so a lot of the women have set their sights on him. But nobody local has made any headway, not even a date beyond coffee. Some thought he might be gay, but that talk died down when one of the secretaries at his office saw him with a dark-haired woman in a bar in Farmington. The way they were acting left no doubt that he’s partial to the female sex.”

  “Was she Indian?”

  “Yes, but not Navajo. I heard that she looked like she was from one of the pueblos. The woman who saw them didn’t recognize her.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Blueeyes sometimes annoys the hell out of Kevin. They’ve been overheard having some shouting matches.”

  “Over what?”

  “Blueeyes apparently oversteps his own authority and makes decisions for Kevin, sometimes even reversing what Kevin has told him to do. That invariably makes Kevin spitting mad, but Blueeyes keeps on doing it.”

  “I’d like Blueeyes watched every waking hour for a few days. But we’ve got to make sure he never finds out what we’re doing. That would not only tip him off if he’s tainted, it could also bring Kevin and the Tribal Council down on the department. We don’t need that right now.”

  “Then we can’t use anyone in the SI team. He’s seen all of us at one time or the other since he works with Kevin.”

  “Who can we pull in from the department? We need someone we can trust completely, someone with topnotch skills. Any suggestions?”

  Justine thought about it and then nodded. “How about Jimmy Frank? He’s been a patrolman for twelve years, and has mentioned to me several times that if there’s an opening in our unit, he’d like a shot at it. Why don’t we give him a chance?”

  Ella knew Jimmy. He was a good cop. “Is he on duty now?”

  “Yeah, in fact, he’s here at the station now. He had to bring in a couple of kids who’d cut school and were driving down the highway half-drunk,” Justine said.

  “Ask him discreetly to come to my office,” Ella said as her phone began to ring.

  As Justine left, Ella picked up the receiver and was surprised to hear Jaime Beyale at the other end of the line.

  “I need to know if Rose’s theory about an Indian mafia is one shared by the police department. Is there an ongoing investigation and, if so, is there anything you can tell me about it?”

  Ella gripped the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “My mother’s opinions are her own. Ask her. She’ll tell you the same thing,” Ella said coldly.

  “Is Rose working with the police—however remotely?”

  “We don’t recruit people in their sixties.”

  Jaime laughed. “That’s a great quote. Hope it looks as good to you tomorrow when you read it in my column.”

  Ella slammed the phone down. Dealing with the press wasn’t her strong suit. She’d always thought that the founding fathers had been playing a joke on the public when they came up with the notion of freedom of the press.

  Jimmy Frank knocked at her door and Ella, glad to take her mind off Jaime, waved him to a chair. He’d acquired a slight potbelly since the last time she’d seen him and what hair he had left was longer than regulation length and combed over. In white clothes and an apron, Jimmy would have looked more like a short-order cook than a cop.

  “Jimmy, I have a surveillance assignment for you, but it’s a touchy one and it’s up to you whether to accept or decline. No one can know about it, and it’s imperative that the subject doesn’t see you tailing him. Do you think you’re up to something like this?”

  Jimmy grinned from ear to ear. “You bet I am. I’ve stalked deer and elk with my brothers since I was six—not for hunting, just for fun. We used to make a game out of seeing how close we could get before they spooked.”

  “You’re going to be stalking something far more dangerous, and you can’t ever let him suspect the police are watching,” Ella warned. “The person I’ve got in mind is cunning and may be dangerous.”

  Jimmy grew serious. “I’ve been hoping to get into your unit for a long time, so I’ve been taking the specialized law enforcement courses the feds offer each year. I’ve learned how to keep someone under surveillance in an urban environment. Here I’ve found it’s even easier for me. I look just like every other citizen, and people usually don’t notice me unless I want them to. Tell me, who’s the target?”

  “Jefferson Blueeyes. I need to know who he sees, what he does after hours, what his routines are—anything and everything you can get me. But keep your distance. If he sees what you’re doing, it’ll warn him off and we’ll get nothing from then on that will be of any use.”

  “Why is he a suspect?”

  “I can’t tell you that yet, but I have reason to believe he’s playing a dangerous game, so be extremely careful.”

  “Why aren’t you using someone from your own team?”

  “Blueeyes knows all of them because of his association with Kevin Tolino. I need to use someone he won’t be watching for.”

  “You’re safe on that score. He and I have never met. Do you want a twenty-four/seven on him?”

  “No, you’d need backup to do that right and I have no one I can spare. So you’re clear once you’re convinced he’s gone to bed for the night. But I want you back on duty as soon as he gets up in the morning.” Ella pulled a file photo and handed it to Jimmy. “Do this for three days, then report back to me. If he does anything you think is unusual or obviously illegal, get back to me ASAP. And don’t use your police radio. We have reason to believe someone’s listening in on our frequencies.”

  “No problem. I carry a cell phone because my wife has a health problem and can’t drive.”

  “Great. About the cell phone, that is. Here’s my cell number.” Ella jotted it down on the back of one of her business cards, then handed it to Jimmy.

 
“I’m just about set, then. But what about my patrols?” “I’ll arrange to have someone cover for you. It’s only three days, so I’m sure I can get someone to put in some overtime, or maybe extend the patrol area of someone working your shift.”

  As Jimmy left, Ella went to talk to Big Ed. She knew he would go along with this, despite the officer shortage. They needed a break on this case, and the sooner they found something the better it would be for everyone.

  Big Ed listened as she filled him in. “It’s risky. Tolino is a powerful man and if Frank gets caught...”

  “I trust Jimmy to do the job,” Ella said. “And you’ve seen him, Chief. He does blend in. Jimmy’s an excellent cop, but he’s not exactly a walking recruitment poster for the department. Out of uniform, he certainly doesn’t fit the image. That will work to our advantage.”

  He mulled it over, rocking back and forth in his chair, then finally sat forward and nodded. “All right.” He leaned back in his chair again. “Just do one thing, Shorty.”

  “Name it.”

  “Start thinking of a cover story in case this one blows up in our faces.”

  “I don’t think it will, but if we get caught, I’ll say that it was a training exercise for Jimmy, who wants to join our unit.”

  “Blueeyes and Tolino will never believe it, but I’ll back you up. As a matter of fact, I’m going to write it out just as you described and make it an order. I’ll put a copy in all our files. That way, we’ll have a paper trail that precedes this if we need it.”

  “Good idea.”

  “One more thing. Abigail Yellowhair came through for us. She got several local businesses to pony up the money, and a Farmington electronics outlet is setting up the account and programming the equipment for free. Everyone on your team is now being issued a cell phone and a list of everyone else’s numbers, and there were two left over. I’m taking one. You can give Jimmy the other.”

  “Great. He has one of his own already, but this will save him some money.”

  Ella left the chief’s office, called Jimmy, and left the phone for him with the desk sergeant. She was now feeling more positive about things than she had in days. Action. There was no better prescription for what ailed her.

  Ella was at the soda machine in the lobby when Justine ran up to her.

  “We’ve got to get rolling. Betty Nez was just found dead in her home. She’s an office temp for the tribe. Her daughter Millie called it in, and she’s hysterical. Dispatch couldn’t get anything except the victim and location. Tache is loading up the crime-scene van now, and Neskahi will meet us there.”

  “Let’s go. If it’s a homicide, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  While Justine tried to question Millie in the living room, Ella surveyed the kitchen where the body was located, keeping out of the viewing field while Tache took the necessary photos.

  She’d never seen so much Elvis memorabilia in her entire life. The living room had been a virtual shrine, and the kitchen was nearly the same. There were Elvis dish towels, and even an Elvis sponge that featured a grainy image of the King holding a guitar. It looked like something out of a horror flick. The salt and pepper shakers on the table were miniature images of the rock and roll legend in blue or white sequined jumpsuits, and two of the walls held posters of the King—one of them of the young Elvis, and the other of the singer at his best looking—in tight, black leather.

  Ella crouched next to the body. Betty Nez was lying prone on the ceramic tile floor inches away from a tipped-over step stool, her neck twisted in an unnatural angle. One of the cupboard doors above the counter was open. At first glance, it appeared that she’d climbed up on the step stool to get something from the cupboard, then fallen off and broken her neck. But experience told her to withhold judgment. Betty worked for the tribe in an office with the tribal chairman, and with a conspiracy going on, that raised questions in Ella’s mind that made everything worthy of a closer look.

  Looking at the kitchen table, Ella saw that it was slightly out of alignment with the counter. Bending down to table level, she noted there were a few scattered grains of salt indicating the salt shaker had possibly been knocked over when the table was knocked out of position. But who had set the salt shaker back up again, and why?

  “Where’s Carolyn?” Ella asked Tache after asking him to get a shot of the table’s position and the spilled salt. “She’s been called, right?”

  “Yep, and I’m right here,” Carolyn said, stepping into the kitchen. She’d put on weight recently and Ella guessed her good friend now weighed in at well over two hundred pounds. For a large woman, however, she had an inexhaustible supply of energy. Dr. Roanhorse-Lavery was arguably the best medical examiner in the state, and virtually the only one still operating outside the State Medical Investigators Office based in Albuquerque.

  “Hey, give the doctor some room to work,” she muttered, turning sideways to pass between the table and where Ella stood. “Not everyone is a bean pole, bones.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ella said with a tiny grin. No matter what Carolyn’s mood, the Navajo doctor was one of the most loyal friends anyone could ever hope to have.

  “Man, this Elvis decor is a gag fest.” Carolyn glanced around, but once her attention shifted to the corpse, she was all business.

  Ella knew the pathologist would miss nothing, but Carolyn hated to have anyone looking over her shoulder while she worked. Ella backed off. One time when she’d hovered, Carolyn had taken off one of the plastic gloves she’d been wearing as she inspected the body and snapped it at Ella like a rubber band. Even the memory made her shudder.

  Carolyn had just been teasing, of course, knowing that it wasn’t the sting that would annoy Ella but the physical contact itself. Like Ella and all the Navajo officers, Carolyn wore a second set of gloves beneath to avoid direct contact with the body, which was a big taboo for Navajos.

  Ella picked her way around the small house, studying everything. Betty Nez was an immaculate housekeeper, and the only room that appeared to have been disturbed was the kitchen. Satisfied for now, she went to join Justine, who was still questioning the victim’s daughter.

  “I can’t imagine what happened. Mom shouldn’t even have been home. I bet she came back to be with him.”

  Justine looked at Ella. “Betty was divorced, and recently she’d started dating again.”

  “Who?”

  “Millie doesn’t know.”

  “I never met her boyfriend,” Millie said. “Mom was trying to keep the whole thing a secret. My sister and I suspected that she was dating a married man, probably someone at work, since she very rarely went out on her own.” Millie paused and swallowed, big tears falling down her cheeks.

  “Is there anyone your mother might have confided in, perhaps another woman she worked with?” Ella asked. “We need to track this man down in case he was here when she died.”

  “Mom didn’t confide in people easily, but I imagine her co-workers knew,” Millie said. “It’s hard to keep things like that secret for long around here.”

  Aware, from the absence of the flash, that Tache had stopped taking photos, Ella let Justine continue questioning Millie and made her way back into the kitchen.

  Ella crouched by Carolyn. “So what do you think?” she asked in a low voice. “Do we have a case here, or is it accidental?”

  “Someone was trying hard to make you believe it was a simple accident, but that’s not what the evidence tells me. All I’ve got is preliminary, mind you, but there are bruises on her upper arms, around her neck, and loose hair on the back of her head that indicates she fought with her attacker. I’ve already bagged her hands, and will be scraping her fingernails in case she managed to scratch whoever came after her. I’m thinking that this person grabbed her, she pulled free, but he yanked her back by the hair. She fell, which would explain the bruise on her knee, and then her attacker slammed her head against the floor. The first time he did it, she would have gone out like a light. After that, it
would have been easy for him to complete the job. I put her time of death at between ten and eleven this morning.”

  Ella, working along with her team, took the house apart, searching for prints, for tracks outside, and signs of forced entry. As she worked, Ella found herself wishing Betty hadn’t been such a good housekeeper. She needed something—one clue—that would lead her to Betty’s lover.

  Ella took a long look around the bedroom while Sergeant Neskahi and Officer Tache examined the rest of the house. The Elvis lamp on the nightstand had a velvet lampshade with images of Elvis fining the bottom near the red fringe. The bedspread had an image of Elvis in the center, with eyes that appeared to wink depending on the angle of the viewer.

  Ella tore her gaze from it and checked the nightstand, then the floor, looking for anything that would point to the identity of Betty’s lover. But the room was clean, too much so. It looked like a good hotel room after housekeeping had finished. Did anyone really clean this thoroughly, or had someone made a concerted effort to remove any traces of evidence? Even the wastebasket in the bathroom, which fortunately held no Elvis-inspired items at all, was empty. The vacuum cleaner in a hall closet had a new, unused bag installed.

  She went back into the living room and approached Millie. “Did you touch anything in the kitchen before or after you found the body?”

  “No. When I got to the kitchen and I saw the body I just couldn’t move. I could tell Mom was dead from the way her neck... you know. Finally I just ran to the phone.” Millie shook her head slowly, tears flowing again.

  “I’m sorry, but one more question. Would you say that your mother was a really good housekeeper?”

  “Yeah,” Millie managed a brief smile. “She was proud of her Elvis memorabilia, and she liked everything perfect so she could show it all off. She was constantly adjusting furniture and such to make everything look just right.” Millie wiped her tears with a tissue, then continued. “When one of your detectives asked me about the two glasses in the drain rack by the sink, I realized Mom must have come home to meet her boyfriend, but then something happened. Mom always dried glasses and plates off immediately and put them into the cupboard. No way she’d have left anything just sitting there like that.”