Bad Medicine (7 page)

Ella was almost at the Totah Café when, along the outer edge of light cast by her headlights, she caught a glimpse of an elderly Navajo woman wearing a canvas jacket and the usual colorful scarf over her head. With the assistance of a cane, she was walking back and forth beside a truck on the shoulder of the road, adjacent to what
looked like a used pickup lot. Ella pulled in behind her and called dispatch, giving her ’20.

The elderly woman approached Ella’s vehicle, speaking fast in Navajo. Ella couldn’t make out a word of it.

“Calm down,” she said, hooking the mike back up and opening her door. “Do you speak English?”

Another stream of fast Navajo was her only reply. Ella got out and went over to look at the woman’s
truck. The minute she was clear of her Jeep, all the headlights came on from the parked trucks. Trapped by the row of bright lights, she couldn’t see. Ella reached back for her gun with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other.

“This is only a warning,” a surprisingly clear voice boomed out from behind the glare. She could tell from the rhythm of his speech that the man who spoke was Navajo,
though she couldn’t see his face.

“We could have killed you tonight—understand that. The danger to you doesn’t come from us, but if you don’t back off, we will not be held responsible for your safety.
We
will handle the problems at the mine, and restore harmony. Do not interfere.”

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why are you afraid to show yourselves?”

Instead of an answer, she heard engines start
up. For a moment, she thought they were going to run her over.

FOUR

Ella drew her pistol. If she went down, a few of them would go with her. She held her breath, but in a heartbeat, the trucks roared past her onto the highway.

Still shaking, Ella turned around, looking for the elderly woman who had lured her into the trap, but she, along with her broken-down truck, was gone.

Ella walked back to her Jeep, and called the incident in. A moment later, Justine
was on the radio.

“Do you need backup?”

“No, it’s over. I just wanted to alert any patrol units in the area to be on the lookout for five or six pickups traveling together, or meeting somewhere further up the highway.”

“I’m near your location. I’ll go look around.”

“Watch yourself then. I’m going to see if Billy Pete is at the Totah Café, though I doubt it. I think that was part of the set-up.”

Ella entered the Totah Café a few minutes later. The place was nearly empty except for one waitress, Betsy Bekis, who was sitting behind the empty counter. Ella had known Betsy since high school.

“Hi. Slow night?” Ella greeted.

“No more than usual,” Betsy replied with a bored yawn.

“Have you seen Billy Pete in here tonight?”

She shook her head. “He comes in often for dinner since his wife
left him, but he wasn’t in today, at least on my shift.”

“Do you have any idea where I might be able to find him?”

“You could ask Linda Begay. She goes out with him a lot. Do you know where she lives?”

After getting directions from Betsy, Ella drove directly to Linda Begay’s trailer home, parked in an open lot north of the café, up on the mesa. She studied the surroundings for a moment, noting
the absence of a hogan or any other sign that a traditionalist lived here. An old pickup with a starboard list stood empty by the trailer, where she could see the muted light of a TV flashing just beyond the curtains, and a half-dozen beer cans overflowing a beat-up trash can by the front steps. Taking one last look around, Ella walked up to the door and knocked. Moments later, a half asleep,
chunky-looking woman appeared, still fastening her pink, terry-cloth robe.

“What is it? It’s past nine, and that’s my bedtime. I have to be at work early.”

“I was looking for Billy Pete,” Ella said, flashing her badge. “Any idea where I might find him?”

“Try the hospital. He’s been there since dinnertime, stoned out of his mind on morphine. He’s got a problem with kidney stones.”

A quick call
on the cellular phone and Ella’s suspicions were confirmed. Since Billy was in the hospital, unable to make phone calls, someone else had used Billy’s name when they’d phoned Justine. She returned to the trailer door to question an even grumpier Linda Begay. “I spoke to Billy earlier today, and I know he was very disturbed about what was going on at the mine,” Ella said, using a technique she’d
found effective. When she led people to believe she knew more than she actually did, she usually ended up getting good information.

“He and the others can handle it over there. Nobody’s going to get away with anything. Those troublemakers that started it—” she stopped abruptly. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“It’s okay. All I’m trying to do is keep Billy from getting hurt.”

Linda’s eyes
became cold and wary. “Billy can take care of himself. He’s only doing what has to be done to restore harmony. Your brother is a Singer. Maybe he can do an Enemy Way Sing at the mine.”

“Why? An Enemy Way is for purifying those who have come in contact with the enemy.”

“Or those who are ill because of contact with the whites. They’ve caused a death. Isn’t that enough?”

“It isn’t the same thing
and, besides, an Enemy Way should be done in the summer.”

“It will be summer in another two months.”

“Our Way isn’t like some kind of glue, where you put a little ritual here and a little blessing there to hold things together.”

“Oh yeah, and you know all about it, L.A. Woman.”

“What I don’t know, at least I respect. My brother is a great teacher, but I’m not an expert in anything except law
enforcement. From my police training I know that there’s a situation brewing here that needs my attention. Yours, too, if you care at all for Billy Pete.”

“I care enough to let him do things his own way, whether or not I agree with him. And that means not answering your questions.”

Before Ella could say anything else, the door was slammed in her face. Ella shrugged, then walked back to her Jeep,
wishing she’d had the energy to be a little more tactful and patient with the woman. It was time to call it a night.

By the time she arrived home, Ella felt an intense weariness stealing over her. The house was dark and the absence of her brother’s truck told her that he and his family had gone home. Her mother was undoubtedly in bed. The problem was, Ella was too wound up to get any sleep.

Ella walked to the small PC in the corner of her room. With her hectic schedule, the only semblance of a social life she had these days was on the Internet. She liked getting E-mail and chatting with people from all over the world, though she rarely let anyone know she was a cop. If they inquired, she normally said she worked for the tribe.

As she entered the electronic service she subscribed
to, she saw her mailbox icon was blinking. As usual, Wilson Joe had written her a short note. If it hadn’t been for E-Mail, she might have lost touch with him completely. Yet, by exchanging posts, they’d grown closer. Funny how you could open up to someone and say things on a computer that you’d never actually say in person.

She smiled as she read about his day, then sent a reply telling him
bits and pieces of her own. She also promised to visit him in person soon, though she didn’t mention the business that would bring her there. That was something better done eye-to-eye.

She also sent a short note to Carolyn, knowing she’d check her mail before going to bed, and again before work. It was too late to call her now about the preliminary autopsy report, but in her post she assured
Carolyn they’d meet the following day.

Once her posts were mailed, she visited the gardening forum and, finally, a virtual museum in Copenhagen she was fond of browsing. Downloading the art and viewing it right there in her room was like taking a mini vacation without ever leaving home. After a while, the thought occurred to her that she might be able to find out a little more background about
Senator Yellowhair on one of the Internet databases. Using one of the search engines, she typed in “Yellowhair” and “Navajo,” and waited while electronic fingers searched computer files nationwide for any links to her query.

Soon a list of possible links appeared at the bottom of the screen. Scrolling down a few political and biographical articles on James Yellowhair, Ella was surprised to find
a corporate database reference to Angelina.

After quickly establishing the hookup, realizing that she was going to be paying a handsome surcharge for this business link, Ella read that Angelina Yellowhair was the owner of a company called Four Corners Trust, Inc.

Searching for other links to that corporation, Ella learned that Four Corners Trust held thousands of shares in the Regional Power
plant and coal mining company. Angelina was—or had been, a wealthy young woman.

Ella realized almost immediately that the shares must have been purchased by the senator in his daughter’s name, through a dummy corporation. The senator had wanted to hide his investments from the public, obviously. This certainly put a new slant on Angelina’s death. Just what direction that slant might take, Ella
had no idea. But she was going to start looking into it tomorrow when she’d be able to take advantage of whatever she found.

Still not ready for bed, Ella logged off the Net and started up her never-ending game of computer solitaire. After several minutes of that, her eyelids began to grow heavy.

Ella saved the game and crawled into bed. As the gray clouds slowly closed in over her thoughts
and exhaustion won its nightly victory, she heard the cry of a coyote in the far distance. Too weary to fight her way back to alertness, she sighed and settled into her pillow, continuing her passage into oblivion.

*   *   *

Ella woke up slowly as the sun peered through a foot-wide gap in the curtains. Tossing the covers back, she checked the clock on her nightstand. It was just after 6:00
A.M.
She walked to the window, ready to close the drapes, and saw her mother offering pollen to the dawn. Morning prayers. It was the sameness of things that afforded Ella the greatest comfort. She was glad she’d returned to live on the reservation. There was no other place quite like it.

Ella showered and dressed, then walked to the kitchen. Her mother was there before her, fixing breakfast.
“I made you some hot cereal,” Rose said.

“Thanks.” It wasn’t that she was hungry, but breakfast with her mother was sometimes the only time they had to talk and be together. Of course it was a ritual that was far more important to her mother, since Rose spent most of her time alone nowadays.

“You have to find other interests beside your computer and your work. It’s not right. You’re young. You
should be enjoying your youth.”

“I am. I love my life right now.”

“You’re not building something that will sustain you when you become old like me.”

“What sustains
you,
Mom?”

“You do, and Clifford and his wife, and my grandson. He’s a bright child with a future that’s yet to be determined. I’m needed here.”

Ella covered her mother’s hand with her own, gazing down thoughtfully. Her hand was
simply a younger version of the one she now touched. Sometimes the similarities between them amazed her. Her heart often whispered that what her mother was she would someday be, when the wheel of fate completed one full turn. “We’re alike in a lot of ways. A sense of duty drives us.”

“We are alike, and that’s why I worry about you. I don’t want you to wake up someday and feel that somehow you’ve
missed the most important part of being a woman. Don’t tell me you don’t think about having a child, what it would be like, and how quickly the time is passing for you.”

“Yes, it’s true that I think about that sometimes, but I also know that the way I’ve chosen to live my life is right for me. There was a time when being a wife defined and satisfied me, but after my husband died, I found a new
direction for myself. The life’s walk we choose determines our options. I answer a need in law enforcement, and that’s how I fulfill myself. I’m happy being who I am now.”

Rose shook her head. “My heart aches for you, daughter. I’m afraid that one day you will want what you’ve turned away from now. And when that day comes, you may find that it’s too late.”

“It’s a risk I have to take.” Ella
stood up and went to the sink. “I’ll do the dishes if you want to work in your herb garden.”

“It’s mid April and weeds are already starting to show up,” Rose said with a sigh. “But the weeding will wait a little bit longer. This morning I need to talk to you.” She paused for a long time, but Ella didn’t rush her. “I’ve heard about the murder of that mechanic at the mine, and I’ve seen the look
on people’s faces and heard the talk. There is division among the tribe. There are traditionalists who, like me, still cling to the old ways and see that as the only way to survive as a people. Then there are the modernists like Justine and Carolyn. And then, there are many who are lost in between, like those kids who say they’re members of nothing except for the gangs they join. Our tribe is under
attack and most of our people don’t even realize it.”

“I know, Mom, but the
Dineh
will get through it as we have other hard times.”

“The outcome, I’m afraid, will depend on those who, like you, have not chosen sides yet. They’ll ultimately give one side or the other the numbers to make the changes needed. But those decisions must be made soon, otherwise events will take their own course and
decide our future. It’s not fashionable these days to believe in evil, but it exists. There are those who use it, and those who are used by it. Guard yourself not only against those who create the incidents, but against the ones who stand by and try to use them to their own advantage.”

Her mother hadn’t mentioned skinwalkers, but Ella thought that was what was going through her mind. Whether
one believed in the magical powers attributed to them, or not, didn’t make them any less formidable as opponents. They knew how to manipulate people and how to confuse and frighten. They were enemies both of her clan and of the tribe.