Bad Medicine (16 page)

Ella finished the reports she’d promised Big Ed, then after verifying Smith’s whereabouts, left the
building. Knowing Smith would be working today, she’d obtained permission to talk with the man during an early coffee break.

Then she phoned Blalock and asked him to meet her at the small lunchroom attached to the metal field office and first-aid station.

Ella arrived at the visitor’s parking area of the mine an hour later. Blalock’s car was just ahead of her as she pulled into an unoccupied
slot.

“Well, for once you didn’t beat me here,” he said with a rueful smile. “I’ve already done a background check on this guy and I know you’ve done some homework on your own. There’s nothing there to justify this visit. So what are you hoping to find out?”

“I’m not sure. But he had problems with Bitah, and until I catch the killer everyone who did is a suspect. Even if they’re not very good
ones.”

“So we play the cards we’re dealt. To add to my personal joy in this case, Senator Yellowhair has been talking to my supervisors and making lots of noise in Washington. They’re really leaning on me to get results.”

Ella shrugged and said, “Welcome to the club.”

They walked up to the gray, metal portable building and Blalock opened the door below the blue painted sign identifying the
lunchroom. A tall, dark-haired man wearing a denim jacket and jeans was seated alone at a wooden picnic-style table. In his hand was a half-eaten glazed doughnut. A wall of vending machines and two more tables were all that occupied the rest of the brightly lit room.

“You’re here to talk to me about the murder, right?” the man asked. “This explains why I got my coffee break early today.”

“Your
first name is Frank?” The man nodded, and Blalock flashed his ID. “We’ve got a few questions for you, Frank,” he said, sitting in the bench opposite Smith.

Smith looked at Ella and she took out her badge. She had jurisdiction here, too.

“This is about Bitah, right?” Smith asked.

Blalock nodded. “We understand that you had a lot of trouble with the man.”

“He hated Anglos, pure and simple. Then
he got it into his miserable bigoted head that I was out to get him. I wasn’t. He never quite understood that I’m not interested in anything involving him or this mine if it isn’t work related. I’m only here to punch in, work my shift, punch out, and collect a paycheck.”

“That makes you a real exception nowadays around here, I understand. How do you stay so focused?” Blalock snapped.

Smith shrugged.
“You can believe me or not. I don’t care. But that’s the truth.”

“What exactly was the problem between you and Bitah?” Ella asked.

“It started one afternoon when I went to my locker and found some gear in it that belonged to Billy Pete. I didn’t put it there, and it wasn’t mine, so I tried to return it. Pete wasn’t around so I dropped it in front of his locker. Just then Bitah came up. He figured
I’d broken into Pete’s locker and was trying to make off with his stuff. There were cameras installed after that, but I’m not sure whose idea that was.”

“Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood?” Ella asked.

“Was that the movie about all those crooked lawyers?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Try again.”

He shrugged, his eyes focused near the top of her head. “Like I said, I do my work and
come home. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Any idea who might?” Ella prodded.

“Talk to the Navajos who work here. They’re the ones with an organization. I think it’s called
Hashké Nein,
or something like that?”

Ella blinked. “
Hashké
means fierce, or someone who is angry. The other word … could you mean,
neiniihii?
”

“That’s the one.”

“It means one who metes out anger. Where did
you hear that?”

“Around work. The group is Navajos only.”

Ella stared at Smith. “You say these Fierce Ones are the counterpart to The Brotherhood?”

“I never heard of The Brotherhood, so I couldn’t say.”

Ella started to ask him more, when her pager went off. She glanced down. “I need to use my cell phone,” Ella said, leaving Smith to Blalock.

Stepping outside to her Jeep, she dialed quickly
and got Justine on the line. “What’s up?”

“Big trouble. A Navajo worker, Noah Charley, has disappeared. He didn’t report to work today and nobody can find him anywhere.”

“That’s not necessarily a sign of trouble. There are many possible explanations.”

“I thought so, too, at first, but Neskahi’s cousin told him some of the workers believed Charley was being paid off by The Brotherhood as an
informant. His aunt also came by the mine, asking if anyone had seen him. Nobody had. She’s really worried because he hadn’t stopped by her home to pick up some food she’d baked for him.”

“Where does Noah Charley live?” What followed were the type of directions common only in rural areas across the country. Ella was to drive south on the highway toward Gallup until she reached the historical
marker for Shiprock. On the opposite side of the road was a dirt track. She was to follow that track to the old watering tank, not the new one, then left along the fence line to a big gully. Noah Charley’s house could be seen in a field just west of where the road crossed the gully. He had a new GMC pickup, either green or blue.

“You got all that?” Justine finally asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.
Get a warrant to search the place if you can’t contact the aunt to get permission. He’s connected to this case, if only as a witness.”

“Okay. Sergeant Neskahi and I will join you there.”

Ella went back inside the lunchroom and took Blalock aside to bring him up to date. “You want to ride along on this?”

“Sorry. I’ve got to interview a witness on another case I’m working on. I’m also scheduled
to talk to a DEA agent about anyone who might be dealing peyote in the area. Fill me in later. Smith hasn’t given me anything else, by the way.”

“Okay.”

Ella returned to the table with Blalock and focused her gaze on Smith who was drinking coffee from a foam cup. “Noah Charley has disappeared. Do you know who he is?”

“Sure I do,” Smith said with a shrug.

“Any idea where we might be able to
find him?”

“If he’s not at work try at home, wherever that is.”

Ella regarded him for a moment. “Let me ask you this. If there was a Brotherhood, who do you think their leader would be?”

He smiled slowly. “
If
there was an organization like that, only members would have that information. It wouldn’t pay to advertise, if you get my meaning.”

“Thanks for your help,” Ella said.

“I
didn’t
help
you,” he said emphatically.

Ella nodded slowly. “All right.”

*   *   *

It took over an hour for Ella to find Noah Charley’s home. It was in a low area west of the Hogback oil field occupied by a few head of cattle competing for the meager forage. The stucco house was simple and had few amenities. Electricity came from a generator, and not much of one at that. A well had been drilled, but water
had to be carried inside from the old hand pump. Still, the man was better off than many Navajos Ella had visited.

No GMC pickup, or any vehicle, for that matter, was in sight. Justine’s car appeared not long after Ella arrived, with Neskahi at the wheel and Justine playing passenger because of her injured ankle. Ella decided to search the place since it looked like nobody was home and Justine
had managed to get oral permission from the aunt to look inside for clues to her nephew’s whereabouts. Typically, the house wasn’t locked.

Justine hobbled into the bedroom to look around while Neskahi searched the living room. “All his clothes are gone,” Justine called out to Ella, “except for one shoe sticking out from under the bed. But this doesn’t make much sense. If he had planned to go
off, why wouldn’t he have picked up his paycheck? He earned it, and it’s been waiting for him since yesterday.”

Neskahi spoke up from the other room. “It looks like he decided to leave in a hurry. But so far, I haven’t managed to find anything that lets us know where he went.”

Ella came out of the kitchen and took the shoe Justine had found. “Does this shoe size correspond to any of the tracks
we found at the scene of Bitah’s murder? The vehicle tracks Blalock identified were too common to help us out. Maybe we’ll get lucky with this.”

“We might. I don’t remember any of the sizes, though. I’d have to check,” Justine responded.

“Bag it, then check it out as soon as you get back to the office.”

They helped Justine finish searching the bedroom as Ella filled her and Neskahi in on the
Hashké
group. “Did your cousin say anything about that?” Ella asked Neskahi.

“No he didn’t, but just getting the few answers I did was like pulling up an elm. He made it clear that he didn’t want anyone to see him talking to a cop, even if the cop is his cousin.”

Ella frowned. “Do you realize what’s going on here? We have people who are afraid to talk to us. They’re being intimidated into silence,
and that means big trouble for us and everyone who could end up a victim.”

Ella glanced at a discarded newspaper on the floor next to an empty fried chicken bucket. A photo of Senator Yellowhair was on the page, but someone had drawn a black circle over one eye and darkened every other tooth. She picked the paper up and stared at it, lost in thought. “It’s time for me to find out if The Brotherhood
has anything against Senator Yellowhair.”

“You’re thinking they might have killed his daughter in retaliation for something he did or should have done?” Neskahi asked.

“The Brotherhood advocates violence, so why not? It would be a beautiful frame. If they knew Bitah was part of that splinter religious group they might have used the jimsonweed-laced peyote as a way to throw suspicion on Bitah.
That will discredit him
and
the Fierce Ones and throw suspicions off of themselves. It’s worth checking out, anyway.” Ella was abruptly interrupted as her hand-held crackled and her call sign came over the air, along with a general alert.

“We have a ten-thirty-nine at the mine. Any available units please respond.”

Ella acknowledged the code for a disturbance. “Ten-four.”

Ella glanced at Neskahi.
“Justine and I will respond to this call. I want you to stay out of this. One of us will need to remain low profile in order to work this case from behind the scenes. Everyone knows you’re a cop, but not everyone knows you’re part of this case.” She glanced at Justine. “You can ride with me in the Jeep. Neskahi can drive back in your vehicle.”

“Is there anything specific you want me to do here
before I go?” Neskahi asked.

“Take one last look around. Make sure we didn’t miss anything. Then go back to your cousin and pressure him to work with us.”

“I suppose I could threaten to become his shadow, following him everywhere.”

“Whatever it takes.” Ella walked outside and headed for the Jeep with Justine, who was still using a crutch. Switching on her sirens, Ella hurried back to the highway
as fast as the road would allow.

When she finally reached the parking lot of the mine, she saw a group of Navajo and Anglo workers standing outside the buildings. From their gestures she could tell they weren’t discussing the weather. At least it appeared none of the anger had resulted in any violence, so far. No other units had arrived on the scene yet, and the few security guards were standing
by the doors, protecting property rather than personnel.

Ella squealed to a stop and reached for her PR-24. The baton could give her the edge she needed.

Ella threw open her door and strode forward. She was as tall as most of the men here, but they outweighed her by a considerable margin, not to mention far outnumbering her and Justine.

Despite that, everyone took a step back, and the men exchanging
insults stopped speaking abruptly. Ella started to congratulate herself on her intimidation skills when she realized they weren’t looking at her. She glanced back quickly and saw Justine leaning casually against the side of the Jeep, shotgun cradled in her arms, gaze leveled on the crowd.

TEN

Ella had to fight back the urge to smile. Though she knew that Justine had no intention of using deadly force unless it was in self-defense, her tactic had worked, helping diffuse the situation.

Ella focused her eagle-sharp gaze on the closest man to her. She recognized Jeremiah Franklin, having gone to high school with him. “What’s the problem here, Jeremiah?”

“There’s no problem.”

“Then
there’s no reason for everyone to continue standing around out here, is there?” I suggest you all go home. How come you’re out here instead of working, anyway? You guys can all afford to lose your jobs?”

Billy Pete came forward, edging around two Anglos. “The company has just decided to change almost everyone’s shifts. Most of the Anglos get straight days, eight to four, the rest of us get night
and graveyard shifts.”

“Did they give a reason for this?”

“They wanted to cut down on possible confrontations between the Anglo workers and the tribe, but what they’re going to get is exactly the opposite. The few Anglos with vital jobs skills that have to continue working at night with us feel pretty isolated now. And everyone hates being put on shifts that force them to completely rearrange
their family schedules.”

“The Anglos working with us should be nervous,” Jeremiah said, “if they’ve been causing trouble.”

“This is not the time for such talk!” Raymond Nez snapped.

Jeremiah shrugged and walked away.

Ella looked at Raymond. His jaw was set and there was defiance in his eyes. She could see why Jeremiah had backed down. This guy was trouble waiting to happen.

“You were out
here earlier this morning asking questions, wanting to find out what’s going on,” Raymond said. “And you’ve learned a few things. I give you credit for intelligence and skill and, most of all, for persistence. But you don’t know the whole story. It would be far better for everyone if you’d let the workers here settle their differences without interference from the police.”