Bad Medicine (25 page)

Justine and Ella divided the room. Forty minutes later, and nearly hoarse from shouting over the dismal sounds of the country western band, Ella returned to the waitress she’d spoken to earlier.

“Someone was having fun at your expense,” the skinny blonde explained, glancing over at the Navajo girls. “I told you
they were obnoxious.”

“I need a name for this Dan character. Can you give me any idea who the guy was that set us up?”

She shook her head. “No, but I did catch some gossip while I was serving customers. People don’t seem to care what a waitress hears. I found out that Angelina sometimes came with a good-looking Navajo guy. But the guy was jealous, never letting her out of his sight to dance
with one of the cowboys. It would make her nuts.”

Ella tipped the waitress for the drink she hadn’t bought, then waited a while before going up to Mary Tapahonso. Ella spoke low enough so the other girls at the table couldn’t hear her. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. You’re either covering for a murderer, which makes you an accessory, or else putting an innocent man on the hot seat by
drawing this out. If I find out who he is before you tell me—and he’s guilty—you’ll be up on charges yourself. And if I don’t arrest him soon, you may be his next victim. Anyone who can connect him to Angelina is a potential witness against him, and he’s still running around loose. Think about that, and start locking your door at night,” Ella said, then turned and walked away.

She didn’t have
to look back to know that she’d rattled Mary. The story would carry to the others, too, and hopefully make at least one of them nervous enough to come forward.

“That was a waste of time,” Justine said, joining Ella in the Jeep. “Nobody knew who our
pimp
was, I’m sorry to say.”

“We may have lost that battle, but we scored a victory on another front.”

*   *   *

The next morning Ella was in the
lab comparing notes with Justine, when her cellular rang. When she picked it up, she recognized Billy Pete’s voice right away.

“I need to meet with you. It’s important,” he said.

“When?”

“In an hour? I can meet you on the south side of the mesa behind your home.”

That would be near the place where Kevin Tolino was building his home. It would work out just fine. Afterwards, she’d stop by Kevin’s
property and talk to him, if he was there today. He moved in higher tribal circles than her. Maybe he knew something about the senator or his daughter that could prove helpful. “Expect me.”

“Will you be needing me this afternoon?” Justine asked. “There’s something I want to follow up on.”

“What is it?”

“Raymond Nez.”

“That’s a lost cause.”

“Not to me. I know I can get him to help us, I just
feel it.”

Ella doubted it, but she didn’t want to dampen Justine’s enthusiasm for the case. “The most you’ll get from him is information he considers unimportant. But even bits and pieces could come in useful in the long run. Just make sure you have backup when you meet him.”

When Ella left to meet with Billy, it was only mid-morning, but the wind was already starting to gust. It had been breezy
when she awoke just around dawn, but now it was worse. Sand blasted the side of the car, pushing it toward the center line. She compensated automatically, used to driving in crosswinds.

As she drove off the highway and headed down the dusty track, visibility quickly fell to only a quarter mile or less. Walls of sand traveled across the desert floor, one after the other, repeating endlessly. Ella
eventually reached the designated spot, parked her vehicle and, covering her nose and face with a handkerchief, made her way forward against the force of the wind.

“You’re here.” Billy Pete came out from behind a cluster of boulders at the base of the mesa.

Sand stung her eyes as Ella turned around. She’d never heard him approaching above the howl of the wind. The knowledge that had he been
an enemy, she might have been dead, sobered her.

“What have you got for me?” she yelled above the incessant whine.

“Our slain brother,” he said, without mentioning Bitah by name, “had been following an Anglo by the name of Anderson. He believed that Anderson was the head of The Brotherhood. I’m not so sure of that, but considering his actions against Jesse Woody, shooting into the man’s home
like he did, it’s a good bet he is involved. The Fierce Ones believe that Anderson gave the order to kill our friend because he believed our friend was the leader of the faction opposing him.”

“I’ll look into that.”

“Will he be out on bail soon, too?”

“What do you mean ‘too’?”

“Truman was released last night. I heard he came to work this morning claiming he was framed by the Navajo police.
He wants to sue the tribe.”

“That figures.” Now Ella knew what had motivated Billy to come forward this morning. He was worried about what The Brotherhood would do next. As a gust of wind blew against them, Ella staggered, pushed by the sheer force of the wind. “We better get out of here,” she said, blinking to clear the sand out of her eyes. When she looked around for his reaction, Billy Pete
was gone.

Ella trudged back toward her vehicle, looking down to protect her eyes from blowing dust. She was on a low spot now, and everything in the air seemed to be coming her way. Forced to look up to make sure she was walking in the right direction, Ella spotted a particularly thick cloud of sand headed right for her. Her heart started pounding, as if she were just about to encounter an armed
gunman rather than lung-clogging dust!

Trusting her instincts, Ella whirled around quickly, her palm resting on the butt of her pistol. Nothing but dust could be seen in any direction, the wind had whipped up so much earth that it was as if she was walking in a gritty cloud.

Her uneasiness intensified and Ella abruptly realized there was something unusual about that rapidly approaching dust
cloud, a darker, inner core, like the heart of an evil thing. Instinct compelled her to try and avoid it. Ella started jogging toward the Jeep she knew she’d left somewhere just ahead.

Suddenly a black van emerged from the cloud, heading right for her. Pulling out her pistol, Ella hoped to be able to ward the driver off without taking out a tire or shooting him. That was assuming he could see
her in the first place, and wouldn’t attempt to run her down.

The driver must have noticed both her and her pistol, because he suddenly swerved away, creating another cloud of dust that swept across the desert like a tidal wave, enveloping her completely while it obscured her aim.

She started toward her Jeep again, this time running faster than before. This wasn’t just a couple of kids out to
give her a hard time. That van held danger.

The van appeared again out of the dust, this time between her and the Jeep. It had circled around, heading her off like a sheep dog trying to herd the flock in a particular direction.

Ella stopped, uncertain whether she should try to run the other way. If she did, she’d be further from safety, not closer, and the van could move faster than she could,
though it couldn’t change direction as fast. The van stopped, too, still between her and where she had left the Jeep.

Ella decided to take the direct approach and call their bluff. Pulling out her pistol again, she ran directly at the van. It was time to force the issue. As she got closer, the van started up again but instead of fleeing, it came right at her.

Ella stopped, assumed a combat stance,
and leveled her sights at the driver’s side windshield. The glass had been darkened, but she knew exactly where the driver had to be seated. Abruptly the van wheeled away to the left, shooting up another cloud of dust. Ella didn’t fire. Reacting instantly, she made a frantic dash for her Jeep.

She was almost there when the van skidded around, cutting her off once more. Suddenly another vehicle
appeared from the direction of the highway, a pickup. It turned toward her now, and Ella’s heart sank. Perhaps the van’s driver had managed to call in an ally to help run her down.

As the pickup got closer, Ella turned to face it, aiming her pistol toward the cab. That windshield wasn’t tinted, and as the pickup drew near, she made out the face of the driver.

Ella lowered her pistol slightly,
but not completely, as Kevin turned the pickup to block the van, and slid to an abrupt stop. “Jump in!” he yelled over the roar of the wind. “Come on, hurry!”

Ella dashed up to grab the door as Kevin threw it open. She jumped inside, her pistol still in hand.

“What the hell is going on?” Kevin’s eyes were wide, focused on the gun, not Ella’s face.

“That van is trying to run me down, I think.
The threat of my pistol is all that’s keeping them at bay.” Ella looked around for the van, and noticed it was heading away rapidly. “Quick, don’t let them get away.”

“Right!” Kevin yelled, and hit the gas, turning the pickup around with spinning tires; the truck fishtailed as he accelerated. Ella reached down to her hip for her cellular phone, but remembered it was still in the Jeep. There was
no way to call for backup, not without letting the van get out of sight.

“What were you doing out there in the open, on foot, in this dust storm?” Kevin shouted, trying to drive as fast as he could without losing control on the dirt track.

“Police work. Sorry, I can’t tell you more.” Ella noticed the van was pulling away and was nearly out of sight. “Can’t you go any faster?”

“Not unless you
want to risk me rolling this baby. This sand isn’t the best place for racing, especially with me at the wheel. Those guys might be running for their life, but I’m not!” Kevin tried to smile, but Ella could see he wasn’t used to living on the edge.

Just then, they hit a tremendous bump, and the truck flew up in the air, landing with a thump that sent them bouncing off their seats, cracking their
heads on the top of the cab roof. The truck slid to a stop in a particularly sandy spot.

“Sorry. They didn’t offer combat driving one-oh-one at the college I attended. You want to give it a try?” Kevin smiled weakly.

Ella looked out the side window. The van was long gone, probably to the highway by now. “No, I don’t think it would be worth our time trying. Just take me back to my Jeep so I can
call this in, okay?”

“I can do that. I was on my way home, but what about you? Are you sure you can’t tell me what you’re doing out here?” Kevin asked.

“I’m sure. But I do need a favor from you,” Ella replied. “I’m trying to find a connection between the senator’s daughter and those involved in the peyote cult. Do you know of one?”

“No, can’t say I do.”

“Will you keep your ears open for me?”

“I’m a defense attorney, not a police informant.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re not interested in justice. Will you do it anyway?” she insisted.

He smiled. “I’ll see what I can do. And there’s your Jeep. Want me to wait around until you start it up?”

“It might be a good idea, just in case the guy in the van did something to it. One more thing—may be related to what happened today. You’ve
chosen to build in this area. That’s your right, but that choice may end up costing you. I think you’ve already seen that you may be drawn into a conflict you never intended to make yours.”

“I won’t be drawn into anything I don’t choose to get involved in. If I have to defend myself or a neighbor, I will. That’s the extent of what you can expect from me. I’m not here to fight, but to build a
life for myself.”

Ella gazed into his eyes and found them to be unreadable black pools. “Your plans and the reality of what’s around you are two separate things. You may yet find that fate makes its own rules.”

FIFTEEN

Ella met Blalock at the agent’s favorite diner in west Farmington, at the mall. He was in his usual surly mood.

“I’m getting a lot of flak about this problem with Bitah and the mine. My bosses are demanding results. To make matters worse, Truman was released last night. I grilled him for over an hour before he got his walking papers, but I got nothing out of him. His wife maintains he
was home with her from the time he got off work at midnight to around noon the following morning. That gives him an alibi for Bitah’s time of death, though it isn’t much of one.”

“I have some new information. Anderson is still in jail, correct?”

“Yeah. The judge setting bail was half Navajo and didn’t take it kindly when Anderson mouthed off. Bail’s astronomical.”

“Mouthed off to a judge? He’s
dumber than I thought. Or else he thinks he’s safer in jail. Either way it works to our advantage. I have a lead. One of my sources told me that Bitah had been following Anderson,” Ella said, and filled him in.

“So Anderson might be the leader of The Brotherhood after all? Now wouldn’t that be convenient! But we still have to place him at the crime scene, and find evidence that he struck the
fatal blows.”

“Let’s go see what we can get from him today.”

Ella followed Blalock to the city jail where Anderson was being held. As they went inside to the cell block, Blalock glanced at her. “You want to take the lead?”

“No. Let’s play bad cop—really bad cop. You be the lesser of the two evils. I’m almost certain I can make Anderson angry enough to say something stupid that we may be able
to use.”

Anderson, in chains and handcuffs, was escorted into the small room by a burly jailer. “I’m going to give you a break,” Blalock said, taking the cuffs off Anderson but leaving the leg bracelets in place. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Anderson nodded once, scarcely looking at Ella. “I have nowhere to go, not dressed in prison orange and leg irons. What is it that you want? My attorney isn’t
available right now.”

“Some new information has come to our attention about your involvement in The Brotherhood.”

“Still never heard of it,” he answered, a trace of a smile on his face.

“We’ve learned from witnesses that Bitah was following you prior to his death. In fact, he may have been following you the night he died. Did you lead him over to the power plant?”

Anderson stared at him, expressionless.
“If you’re suggesting what I think you are, you’re being mislead.” He glanced at Ella and gave her a look of utter contempt. “It’s no secret that I have philosophical differences with the hiring practices of the tribe. But I did
not
murder anyone.”