Never-ending-snake

by Thurlo, David

  “This kind of thing usually works better in person, but I can make a few phone calls for you.”

  “Phone work’s good, but make sure nothing you say gives away your location.”

  “I understand,” he said. “So how’s the case going? Have you found any connection between Adam and the casino? They’re the ones with the bucks, Ella. The Prickly Weed Project could—someday—make serious money for us, but at the moment, it just sucks it in. Think of it as a financial black hole.”

  “Yet there’s that seventy-five thousand in cash Adam was carrying,” she said.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. Is it possible Adam was bringing that money back here to hire surveyors and support staff for IFT?”

  “The deal wasn’t cinched until after you guys got back—after the shooting, that is. Under those circumstances, to hand someone—anyone—seventy-five thousand in cash . . .”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t make much sense. You don’t pay contractors and white collar workers in cash—not in a deal this big,” Kevin said. “When you hear about couriers who are carrying that much money, it’s usually related to drugs, bribes, or money laundering.”

  “Drugs don’t apply and there’s no evidence to support money laundering. If there’d been any signs of that, we would have found out by now. Blalock and the FBI have been checking into it.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Blalock?” she asked, surprised. “Yeah, with my life. He’s a professional who likes to close his cases. Dwayne works long hours to make sure that happens.”

  “I’ll talk to different people and see what I can get once I’m up and about. And speaking of that, I think you should consider allowing me to go home now that I can walk around a little better.” He paused, then added in a growl, “I hate hiding out, Ella.”

  “You cannot leave. O’Riley’s still out there. Since we haven’t established who the primary target was, you’d be putting a bull’s-eye on yourself and hoping for the best.”

  “I’d be careful.”

  “I thought you liked it here,” she countered.

  “I do, and that’s the problem,” Kevin said softly. “I’m getting used to being here and having my daughter around every day. That sense of family—it feels . . . really good.”

  “I hear you,” Ella said softly, “but leaving now is a bad strategy. If I have to worry about Dawn going off and trying to find you, and you at a less secure or remote location, I’ll be too distracted to give this case my undivided attention.”

  “All right,” he answered after a momentary pause.

  Ella stood. “I better get back to work.”

  “Before you go, there’s something else we need to talk about. Dawn really wants to go to that private school in D.C., the one I mentioned, what, a lifetime ago? It’s the same school some of the presidents’ children have attended, Ella. We can’t even begin to imagine the opportunities that would create for her. It’s not just the education, but the people she’d meet. Those contacts could open doors and give her advantages neither one of us could ever provide.”

  “Don’t try and pressure me. I haven’t decided yet whether I’m taking that job in D.C. or not.”

  “Fair enough. But if you decide to take it, I’d like you to consider sharing the apartment the tribe leases for me there. I could move my office, and you could have your own room and Dawn hers. It’s a large place.”

  Ella heard far more than his words. He’d spoken like a dad who wanted to play a bigger role in his daughter’s life.

  “Dawn’s torn between us, Ella. She wants her father and her mother. If you allow it, we could become a bigger part of each other’s lives—for her and for us.”

  “Dawn’s fine. She doesn’t lack a thing,” Ella said.

  “It’s not about lack, it’s about adding to what she already has.”

  “Nicely worded argument, Counselor,” Ella replied, “but we’ve had this discussion before and . . .”

  Before she could continue, Justine poked her head in the room. “Your mom wants to know if you would like a stuffed burrito. I said that you did, okay? So if you don’t eat it, I will.”

  Laughing, Ella stood. “On that note, I better get going.”

  Ella and Justine were on their way back to the station fifteen minutes later when her phone rang. It was Blalock.

  “Big Ed’s about to call a meeting,” he said. “I thought you’d want to know.”

  “I’m on my way in right now,” she said.

  As soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. Ella wasn’t surprised when she heard Big Ed’s voice on the other end.

  Moments later, as she put the phone away, Ella updated Justine. “The chief wants answers, but I have none to give him.”

  “Maybe once we’re all together, we’ll come up with something,” Justine said, but her tone didn’t reflect the confidence needed to make her words convincing.

  By the time they met in the chief’s office, Ella could feel the tension in the room. The chief wanted to hear that progress had been made, but none of them had anything solid to give him. All they could do was report what steps they’d already taken to move the investigation forward.

  “My team’s been doing background checks on everyone involved with the Prickly Weed Project. Specifically, we’ve been looking for anything that would link Adam, the money, and the shootings,” Ella said, then nodded to Blalock.

  “My people have been checking Lonewolf’s contacts in D.C. We’ve searched for any signs of money laundering or drug trafficking activity that might explain the cash, but got nowhere,” Blalock said. “Lonewolf’s contacts are clean—or at least none have any charges or indictments against them right now. Of course with big business or big government, that’s always subject to change.”

  “What about Tolino? Adam was working for him, at least recently and while in D.C. Maybe he talked Adam into carrying that board game, saying it was going to be a surprise for his daughter. It’s possible Lonewolf had no idea what was inside that box,” Big Ed suggested.

  “If that had been Tolino’s money he would have carried it himself,” Blalock answered. “It’s a lot of cash. Besides, the Bureau looked in on what Tolino does in D.C. and who his contacts are. He meets with lawmakers concerning legal issues that affect the tribe as a result of legislation and new government regulations. It’s not the kind of thing that opens itself to bribes. He’s an analyst who prepares reports and offers advice, none that have a direct tie to any particular business.”

  “And if he’s been taking bribes, there’s no trace of that money in any of his accounts, nor does his lifestyle reflect it,” Marianna said.

  “Could all this be totally random—like Adam getting somebody else’s cash by mistake, then having them come after him?” Joe said.

  “Then why didn’t they make a move to get it back?” Ella countered. “When Adam and Kevin went down, the shooters didn’t advance to pick up the dropped briefcase. They concentrated on trying to pump more rounds into the victims.”

  “You drove them back, Ella. They knew their body armor would protect their torsos, but a head shot . . . ,” Justine argued.

  “I don’t see it that way,” Ella said, shaking her head. After a moment, she looked at Big Ed. “I know you’re getting pressured to provide tribal leaders with answers we don’t have yet, Chief, so you might remind them that Adam’s the key. That’s why we have to proceed very carefully. We don’t want to risk doing anything that’ll tarnish the reputation of a hero, particularly one believed to be dead and unable to defend himself.”

  “That’s a good argument. No one wants to take on a legend—which is what Adam Lonewolf has become to The People,” Big Ed said.

  After the meeting closed, Ella met with Marianna in the hall. “Stay on Hattery, I want to know where he’s at every minute. He’s been getting his tips from someone on the inside. If you need backup, pull Joe in.”

  As soon
as Marianna walked off, Blalock caught up to Ella. “You mentioned wanting to go to Kirtland Air Force Base, so I’ve arranged to get us a ride on a DOE utility aircraft that just dropped off some bureaucrats scheduled to inspect the new generating plant. That’ll eliminate any possibility that we might be tailed and save us some time, too. Since everyone wants answers yesterday, the Bureau agreed to cover the expenses.”

  Less than an hour later, they were headed southeast on the twin-engine Department of Energy aircraft. It was just them and the pilot, who was up in the cabin, so they spoke freely.

  “So what’s your plan once we get there?” Blalock asked.

  “I’m going to do my best to jog Marie’s memory,” Ella said. “I’ll have to get her to relax first though, so I’m going to take it nice and easy.”

  “What if she doesn’t know anything?”

  “Then we’re out of luck. But my gut tells me she knows more than she realizes.”

  “Adam may remember something by now, too, but from the updates I’ve been getting, we shouldn’t count on him,” Blalock said.

  They landed in Albuquerque a half hour later. Thanks to Blalock, who’d contacted the base commander, a car was waiting.

  “I’m here to drive you anywhere you need to go, on or off the base,” the young airman said.

  “Thanks. We’ll start with the base hospital,” Ella answered.

  The old base facility, in existence since the early ’40s, was less than ten minutes away. As they walked inside the military-gray-and-green structure, Ella noted the disinfectant smell, a blessing to the ill when used effectively, but unpleasant nevertheless.

  Blalock asked to see to see Adam’s physician, and several minutes later a young military doctor approached them.

  “I’m Captain Marcus. I’ve been instructed to give you my full cooperation.”

  “Can we question Mr. Lonewolf directly?” Blalock asked, going right to the heart of the matter.

  “You may have heard that the patient’s regained consciousness, but the trauma damage was considerable and progress has been slow,” Captain Marcus said. “Also be advised that only bits and pieces of his memory have returned. He recognizes his wife and parents, and that’s about it.”

  The doctor led the way down a short hall, then, after two turns, pointed ahead. “Keep things calm and don’t upset him. If he gets agitated, that’ll be the end of the questions, clear?”

  “Not a problem, Doc,” Blalock said. “Will the family be here?”

  “No, not until visiting hours. They’ve gone to their quarters for some rest.”

  They presented their IDs to the uniformed AP at the door—a woman in her twenties with a sidearm at her hip—and went inside. Adam was sitting up, resting his bandaged head on a stack of pillows. He looked terrible, and was staring blankly at a TV placed high on a shelf in the corner of the room, where a talk show was in progress.

  As he noticed Ella and turned his eyes to look at her, there was no sign of recognition on his face, only vague curiosity.

  “Adam, it’s me, Ella Clah, the tribal police officer,” she said softly.

  “His memory of recent events has suffered the most,” Captain Marcus explained. “But basic cognitive functions have begun to return. He’s starting to remember the hospital staff—at least their faces. You might want to ask him a yes-or-no question. He can’t speak, but he’s learned to tap his finger once for yes, twice for no. If he doesn’t know the answer, he taps three times.”

  Ella looked down at his right hand, resting on the top of the blanket. “Do you know who I am, Adam?”

  He waited a moment, then tapped his index finger.

  Ella breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Adam, do you remember what happened to you, how you got shot?”

  She waited, watching his hand, then shifted her gaze to his eyes. He seemed to be struggling—confused. He tapped twice—then three times. Adam groaned, then tapped three times again.

  “It’s okay,” Ella said, not wanting to upset him. “Do you remember carrying your briefcase?”

  His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it.

  As Ella watched him she didn’t get the impression that he was eluding her question, but rather trying hard to remember. He tapped his finger once.

  “Your wife bought it for you, didn’t she?” Ella asked.

  Adam tapped once, blinking his eyelids, like a nod.

  “You were supposed to be protecting someone during the flight home. Do you remember who it was?”

  He hesitated, then tapped twice.

  “Think hard, Adam. Could it have been Kevin Tolino?”

  He stared across the room, his eyes darting from place to place as he fought to remember. Then he tapped three times, his face contorted. A tear fell from his left eye, and he tried to wipe it away, but didn’t have the strength to complete the gesture.

  The doctor stepped forward. “Don’t let it concern you, Adam,” he assured. “It will take time for your memory to return.”

  “Just keep getting better,” Ella said gently, reaching down and giving his hand a squeeze. “When you remember more, have someone call me,” she added, and placed a card next to him on the bed stand.

  Adam looked up at her, blinked his eyes, then tapped once with his fingertip before looking away toward the TV.

  Once they’d left the room, the doctor stopped and looked at Blalock first, then Ella. “Memory’s a tricky thing. It may all come back to him in an hour, or it may take years.”

  “Thanks, Doc. An update if he makes more progress would be appreciated,” Blalock said, giving him his card.

  The doctor placed it inside his coat pocket. Just then his pager went off. He looked down at the display. “I’ve got to go.” Without further word, he hurried to the end of the hall, joining a nurse with a cart full of medical gear. They disappeared around the corner a second later.

  As Ella and Blalock returned outside to the parking area, their driver held the car door open for them.

  “We need to find Sergeant Lonewolf’s wife, Marie, next,” Ella said, climbing in.

  “I have the address of their guest quarters. I was told you might want to go see the family as well,” the airman said.

  After a short drive down a busy avenue, they arrived at a generic, one-level home at the end of a street just beyond the northern perimeter of the base. The building, virtually identical to those around it, had a southwest-landscaped yard with native plants. The neighborhood looked quiet and well maintained.

  Ella walked up to the porch with Blalock, and before she could knock, Marie Lonewolf opened the front door.

  “I heard the car and saw you getting out. Is something wrong? Is Adam . . .” Her voice broke, and she stared at Ella, fear etched clearly on her face.

  “He’s still hanging in there,” Ella said quickly. “We just came from visiting with him, and he was able to answer a few questions.”

  Marie breathed a sigh of relief, and dropped back against the door frame. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Call next time and let me know you’re coming.”

  Ella smiled. “Sorry about that,” she said, following her inside.

  Marie led them to the fabric couch in the living room. “My father-in-law and mother-in-law aren’t here. They went for a long walk over to the Veteran’s Memorial. You don’t know how hard this has been on both of them. At their age . . .” She shook her head. “But you came to talk. What can I do for you?”

  “We need some straight answers,” Blalock said, with his usual bluntness.

  Marie blinked, taken aback.

  Ella fought the urge to give Blalock a swift kick in the shins. “He meant that we’d like you to fill in some gaps in the information we have, just some details we’re missing. For example, what can you tell us about the time Adam spent in D.C.?” Ella said, then smiled and continued in calm, conversational tone. “That’s such a crazy place. Everyone’s always in a hurry. There are so many interesting places to see, too. Have you been there?�
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  Marie smiled, sitting back again. “Adam gave me what he called ‘the tour’ right after he got that job, then again a month ago on our anniversary. Both times it was like visiting another planet. Everything there is so different. On the Rez you see people walking down the side of the road fifty miles from the nearest town. They don’t pay any attention to the cars racing past because they’re never in that much of a hurry. In the cities back east, the cars flash by and so do the people. They walk as if the ground beneath them is on fire.”

  “That’s the way it was when I was there, too,” Ella said. “I like the Rez a lot better.” As she spoke, Ella realized how true that was. Yet there was no denying the many opportunities Virginia and the urban environment around the capital could offer Dawn. Quickly bringing her thoughts back to the business at hand, Ella continued. “Does your husband like traveling?”

  “Yes, he loves seeing new places and dealing with anything that offers a challenge. That’s why he accepted the job with the tribe. It gives him both.”

  “What does he like least about his new work?” Ella asked, taking advantage of the fact that Marie seemed more relaxed now.

  “He hates being told how to do his job. He figures that if they hired him, they should also trust his skills.”

  Ella nodded thoughtfully, then, playing a hunch, added, “Does he ever talk about the people at IFT?”

  “Some. I know there’s one man my husband particularly dislikes. His name’s Williams. My husband said that the man’s lower than a rattlesnake, because the snake at least rattles before it strikes.”

  Ella laughed. “I’ve never met Williams. Have you?”

  She nodded. “He was at a party my husband took me to last time I was in D.C. He only talked about himself—and money.”

  “When we spoke back in Shiprock, you mentioned that your husband thought he was going to lose his job. Do you think he was seriously worried about that?” Ella asked.

  “I’m the worrier, not him. My husband’s the kind who jumps in and, one way or another, settles the problem,” Marie said with a sad smile. “I warned him before he took that job that Washington was full of crooks, but he said he could handle the pressure without selling out like so many over there end up doing.”