Never-ending-snake

by Thurlo, David

  Justine burst out laughing. “I was kidding! I just wanted to know if you were listening to me.”

  “I owe you one, partner. Remember that,” Ella growled.

  “But the dinner really was nice, Ella. The food was awful, but he’s really sweet.”

  “And you’re not, so like they say, there’s balance in that,” Ella answered with a chuckle.

  Shiprock was a small town, so they arrived at the tribal offices less than five minutes later. As they walked into the front lobby, Alfred was there to meet them.

  “It took you long enough to get here,” he snapped.

  “We came as soon as you called, and that was only about ten minutes ago, Councilman Begaye. Now what can we do for you?” Ella asked.

  Billy came out of his office, halfway down the hall. “Finally! I left four messages for you. We’re going to need more protection!”

  “From what? Slow down and tell me what happened,” Ella said, her voice cool and calm as she looked from one to the other.

  “Come out back to the staff parking lot,” Alfred said, motioning them to follow.

  “Fill me in on the way,” Ella said.

  “No. I want you to see this yourself,” Alfred answered flatly.

  Once outside, Begaye led her down a row of parked vehicles, then stopped and gestured toward his luxury sedan. “Look.”

  Ella saw the car and had to suppress a smile. The sedan’s driver’s side window had been smashed, which was unfortunate, but the interior of the car had been crammed full of tumbleweeds—prickly weed. As she drew closer, Ella sneezed. She’d always been allergic to the danged things.

  Almost on cue, Alfred and Billy began sneezing as well. Only Justine seemed to be immune. Grabbing a tissue from her pocket, Ella took a careful look around. No windows from the building faced this area, but there were security cameras in place. “I’m going to need the footage from those,” she pointed up along the roof level.

  “I’ve already had our future former security guard set aside this morning’s footage for you,” Alfred said. “Damned idiot never sees a thing. I want whoever did this prosecuted.”

  “I want them shot,” Billy said, sneezing again.

  Ella bit back a smile, then sneezed. “Justine, will you take a look inside the vehicle and see if anything else has been left there?” she asked, then sneezed again.

  “My car’s worse,” Billy said, pointing across the lot. “They decided to save time by smashing the windshield instead.”

  Wanting to get it over with so she could get away from the weeds, Ella glanced at Justine. “Take the other car, partner. I’ll search this one.”

  Ella put on a pair of latex gloves, hoping to minimize the scratches, then opened up the car door and began removing one tumbleweed at a time. The stalks were dry and brittle and the branches snapped as she made her way farther into the interior.

  It took them less than three minutes to confirm that nothing except tumbleweeds had been left behind. But, by then, Ella’s eyes were swollen and she couldn’t stop sneezing. Ticked off, she glanced around. “Do I remember seeing a pharmacy around here?”

  Alfred nodded and gestured across the street. “But I’ve got some over-the-counter stuff that works,” he said, then sneezed. “Okay, it sorta works—that’s if you can get away from these weeds.”

  “I’ll take yours,” she said, then walked back inside with Justine. They followed Begaye to his office, took the pills, then asked for directions to the security office where the surveillance footage was being prepared for them.

  Justine was quiet as they walked down the hall. Ella continued sneezing, and by the time they reached the security offices, she was in a foul mood.

  The uniformed guard reminded her of Rudy Nez. Seeing his name tag through her tear-filled, swollen eyes and noting that his name was Darwin Nez, she had to ask. “Are you related to Rudy?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, he’s my cousin. I couldn’t work at the casino because my religion prohibits gambling, but after I left the Air Force I needed a job—something I could do instead of construction work or sitting at a desk for eight hours. He told me about this job, and here I am.”

  It appeared that Darwin wasn’t the only one who’d come out a winner from the deal. Rudy had a source placed in the same building as a tribal council member and most local government officials. Score one for Rudy.

  Ella sat down to view the footage, and before long found what they were looking for. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be enough. The two figures, the smaller of them possibly a woman, had deliberately kept their faces away from the camera and were wearing cowboy hats, pulled low over their eyes. She watched them bring a ladder close to the camera, then spray paint the lens. From that point on, they had nothing.

  “How come you didn’t notice this was going on?”

  “When I come on duty, the first thing I do is conduct a foot patrol inside the building, checking all the doors and locks. They must have known that,” he answered with a shrug. “When I got back to the monitors I saw something was wrong, but before I could go outside to check, Councilman Begaye called me to his office. He told me someone had vandalized his car and ordered me to get the surveillance video ready for you. He said I should leave everything out there exactly the way it was until you got here.”

  “There might be cameras outside the bank across the street,” Justine said. “If so, maybe we can get something from those.”

  “Good thinking, partner,” Ella said. “But the bank doesn’t have to cooperate with our investigation. We might need a warrant.”

  “Nah,” Darwin answered. “My older brother works security there. He won’t give you any problems. Just tell them I sent you.”

  Ella thanked Darwin. This was the way things often worked in this small community—everyone knew someone who knew someone else. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  As they went back outside and crossed the street, Ella started to feel the effects of the allergy pills. New energy was pumping through her and she’d stopped sneezing. At least the pills weren’t the kind that made a person sleepy. That, in her business, could mean a one-way ticket to an early grave.

  “You’re not exactly Rudy Nez’s favorite person,” Justine noted as they crossed the street. “You think Darwin will call his cousin? If he finds out we’re not exactly best buds with Rudy, by the time we reach the bank things could become a lot more complicated.”

  “Walk faster.”

  When they arrived at the bank, Victor Nez came out to meet them. As was customary on the Rez, he didn’t offer to shake hands.

  “I heard you were on your way over. Come into my office, and I’ll get the footage you need.”

  Ella and Justine followed him inside an office that was the size of a small closet—probably because it was also a storage area. There wasn’t enough room for all them to stand side by side, so Justine stayed a step behind Ella as the video feed played.

  “I don’t have a plush office like my little brother does, but the equipment . . .” Victor glanced back and gave them a happy smile. “I love all things electronic, and what I get to play with here is perfect.”

  Ella looked at the screen. The camera lens was directed in a way meant to keep any ATM customer in the center of the frame, but with no one standing there, she could see the parking lot across the street. Yet the angle was still wrong, so she couldn’t get a fix on the area she wanted. “Do you have a second camera? I need to see more of the parking area’s south side,” she said, pointing to the screen.

  “There’s a second camera that monitors our employee parking lot, and it’s aimed in that direction,” Victor said. “Let me see what kind of clarity I can get for you.”

  They waited another few minutes for Victor to find what they needed. “This is the best you’re going to get,” he said, replaying the footage. “Remember that the camera is centered on our own lot, not the one across the street. The images will be small.”

  Ella studied the background, the
n moved closer to the screen. “There! Is it possible for you to enlarge and clear up that portion of the image?” she asked, pointing.

  He gave her what could only be described as a completely contented smile. “You’re about to see why I put up with an office the size of a bathroom.” As he touched the screen with his index fingers and spread out his hands, the section she’d flagged became larger and clearer. “How’s that? You can even read the plates on the pickup as it comes back into the street.”

  Ella glanced at the equipment with a touch of envy knowing that her department would never have state-of-the-art electronics like this. “I wish we could positively ID the two suspects inside, but at least we have a hit on the truck,” she said, writing down the plate number.

  Victor made a quick copy of the video segment, signed and dated the DVD, and promised to keep the original in the safe.

  After thanking him, Ella called the information in as they walked back to the tribal unit across the street. They were getting into the car when Ella got her response.

  “You’re not going to believe this, partner,” Ella said as she fastened her seat belt. “We need to pay the Morgans a visit.”

  Justine gave her a surprised look. “They did this? Neither of them seemed the type.”

  “Those were Chester’s plates, and the vehicle is registered to him and Trina. It’s possible that one of their clan members works in the building and knows the guard or has been watching Begaye and Garnenez,” Ella said. “The problem is that although we have enough to place them at the scene, we can’t prove they committed the crime.”

  “So we’ll push them—hard,” Justine said.

  “Even if they confess, we’d still be playing right into their hands,” Ella said. “They want a martyr for their cause.”

  “We don’t have a choice. You heard Begaye. He wants whoever did that to his car to pay,” Justine said.

  “And Garnenez wanted them shot,” Ella said. “Looks to me like we’re not going to make either of them happy.”

  They spent nearly twenty minutes in relative silence, but as they drew close to the Morgan home, Justine spoke. “What’s eating you?”

  “I think we’re letting these vandalism incidents throw us off track. We need to stay focused on the money Adam was carrying. What was Adam doing with that cash, and how is that connected to the person or persons who paid to have him shot? I have a hard time thinking that the Morgans, or Emerson Lee, had anything to do with that. They don’t have the money it takes to pay for a professional hit, nor do they have seventy-five grand lying around. But the Prickly Weed Project does have some major backers with that kind of money at their disposal. Someone in that league is bound to have equally powerful enemies, too.”

  “Taking things a step further, it’s possible that one or more of the Prickly Weed backers will end up bankrupt if the project’s shelved. If that’s so, the person behind the hit may have decided to push things and ruin his enemy. He may have thought that getting rid of Adam would be enough to kill the deal. He was the tribe’s contact with IFT. With him gone, Tribal Industries might have just called everything off rather than throw somebody new into a deal that was already on shaky ground,” Justine said.

  “What we need to do now is find out which of the Prickly Weed backers is on the edge financially, or has invested more than they should have. That means looking into the finances of the tribal president, of our attorney general Robert Buck, of Billy Garnenez, and Abigail Yellowhair, even Kevin,” Ella said.

  “There are also a host of other smaller business people who are associated with the Prickly Weed Project,” Justine said.

  “It’s not going to be an easy job. There could also be a strong backlash, especially from Abigail, once we start poking around, but we have to do this.” Ella picked up the phone, dialed Benny Pete, and filled him in. “Get Joe and Marianna’s help on this. I want everything we can dig up on these people. And try to identify any enemies they’ve made along the way.”

  “How soon will you need this? To go past the surface, we’re going to need time,” Benny answered.

  “Start on it right away and do your best. Also make sure to keep this as quiet as possible. I don’t have any problems outing bad guys, but the department needs to avoid lawsuits.”

  “About Kevin, do you want us to dig into his background, too, or leave that part to you?”

  “No. Dig away. Everyone gets the same treatment,” she answered.

  As she hung up, Justine glanced over at her. “Have you seriously considered the possibility that Kevin might be involved?”

  “My personal opinion is that he’s not, but we’ll scrutinize him as closely as the others. I’ll be pushing him for more answers about his enemies, too, but somehow, I doubt the Aspass brothers are behind the shooting. Instinct tells me this case isn’t about revenge. It’s about money and power,” Ella said. “We need to start thinking outside the box. For starters, I’m going to go with Blalock to pay Marie another visit. My gut tells me that she knows more than she realizes.”

  “If I had a dime for every person who had held back information just because they didn’t think it was important . . .”

  “Yeah, exactly,” Ella said; then, seeing the Morgans’ home come into view, she shifted the focus of her attention.

  Less than ten minutes later, they were seated inside the Morgans’ small living room. Trina eyes were red and swollen, her nose red, and she had a tissue box beside her. Ella might have attributed it to crying if she hadn’t seen Chester’s equally swollen nose and witnessed his sneezing. Both had scratches on their wrists where the gloves hadn’t protected them completely.

  “There are allergy pills for that,” Ella said, unexpectedly feeling sorry for them.

  “We took them. Nothing happened,” Chester said. “Well, no, Trina stopped sneezing. I haven’t.”

  “You know why I’m here,” Ella said.

  Neither moved a muscle.

  “The bank across the street also had a camera.” As she said it, Ella saw alarm flash across Trina’s face, but Chester’s remained impassive. That told her that, despite everything, Trina didn’t want to be arrested.

  “So what? We drive all around Shiprock,” Chester said with a smug smile.

  “Try again,” Ella said. “You were in the staff parking area of the tribal branch offices and that’s restricted to employees. Why were you there?”

  “You’re wasting your time—and ours. If you had something, we’d already be under arrest,” Chester said.

  “What if I tell you that the camera across the street recorded you breaking the windows and putting all those tumbleweeds in Garnenez’s and Begaye’s cars?” Ella said.

  He shook his head. “It can’t be all that clear-cut, or we would have been in handcuffs by now.”

  “You’re playing a game you can’t win. No amount of publicity is going to change the facts. That grazing permit—or lack of one—is going to be your downfall eventually,” Ella said. “Have you heard anything more from the tribe about the compromise I suggested?”

  “No, but Garnenez doesn’t really plan to offer us a deal. One of our clan members overheard him talking to Frieda Beard last night. He told her that he would have promised us a brick hogan with marble steps just to get out of there in one piece. He wants the tribe to kick us off the land and take it all.”

  “Let me do some pushing of my own,” Ella answered. “An agreement is still possible—I think.”

  Trina gave her a puzzled look. “Why would you do that for us—the people you came to arrest?”

  “I work for the tribe, and that includes you two, and your father.”

  “If they agree to the compromise you suggested last night, there’s no more cause for trouble. We’d take the deal,” Trina said in a firm voice, then looked at her husband.

  Chester shook his head. “You’re both dreaming. They want the land, the house, everything. They won’t settle. They don’t even want to discuss it. Their minds are
already made up.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Ella said.

  TWENTY-ONE

  When they reached the house, Ella saw Rose entering through the back door, still wearing her gardening gloves. She’d probably been tending her new tumbleweeds, most already waist high. Even the sight made Ella’s nose itch. At least the patch was on the opposite end of the house past the corrals.

  While Justine fiddled with something at the vehicle’s computer terminal, Ella went ahead. As she stepped through the front door the first thing she noticed was Dawn’s absence. Whenever her kid was gone, even during school hours, the house seemed to hold its breath. Dawn gave it life with her constant activity and laughter.

  Mack Kelewood had seen them arrive and gave her a nod from where he stood beside the curtain. Then Two, Rose’s dog, came up, tail wagging, and Ella bent down to pet him. The dog was very protective of their household and had the uncanny ability to know friend from foe. Much to her mother’s chagrin, the dog still refused to stay in the same room with Abigail Yellowhair. He’d growl softly, then leave and watch her from the closest doorway.

  When Justine came in, a moment later, Two greeted her enthusiastically and Justine also bent down to pet him. “Do you mind if I go into the kitchen and raid your fridge? I’m starving. I only had a tortilla with some butter on it for breakfast, and half of it had to be tossed ’cause it had something gray and kinda furry growing on it.”

  Ella winced. “Gross, partner.”

  Justine shrugged. “It was either that, or three-day-old slippery leaf salad.”

  Rose poked her head out from the kitchen. “You get in here right now, child. I’ll fix you something decent to eat.”

  Leaving them, Ella went into Dawn’s bedroom, where Kevin was working with his daughter’s laptop.

  “What brings you here in the middle of the day?” he asked looking up.

  “I need a favor,” she said, and explained.