Authors: David Thurlo
“Crap. Too many people around here already carry guns in their cars or trucks. If everyone is expecting the worst from the driver next to them, that could turn our highways into war zones, road rage times two.”
“Maybe you can redirect their … enthusiasm … by enlisting their help. Have them keep their eyes
and ears open but convince them to report to you. Remind them what happened in the past when they used intimidation to assert control.”
“The
Diné
eventually stood up to them,” Ella said, nodding. “But I have to run this past Big Ed. He would need to okay a meeting of this kind.”
When Clifford remained seated, Ella studied his face. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“They already know I’m here. I
saw their truck parked about a quarter of a mile away at the gas station. They’re probably waiting for me to leave. They’ll want to know what your answer was. I’ll have to make sure they catch up to me long before I turn off the highway and head home. I don’t want them anywhere near my family.”
“I agree, so let me go talk to Big Ed and see what he says.” Ella called Big Ed’s office and got his
secretary, who informed her that he was in a meeting.
“We’ll have to wait a little longer,” Ella told Clifford.
“No problem,” he said, sitting back.
“Have you spoken to Mom lately?” Ella asked.
He nodded. “Something’s bothering her, but whatever it is, she’s not ready to talk to me about it.”
“We’re in the same boat. I really want to help her, but I don’t know how.”
“You know Mom. Give her
some time,” Clifford said. “When you pressure her, she pulls away even more.”
Ella started to answer when Big Ed appeared at her door. “My secretary said you were looking for me. What’s going on, Shorty?”
Big Ed nodded to Clifford, then came in and took a seat. Ella laid out what Clifford had told her about the Fierce Ones.
Big Ed considered it for a long while. “Dictate the terms—time and
place,” he said at last. “Choose open country so you’ll know exactly who’s there. Also take backup, but not Justine. She was forced to shoot one of the Fierce Ones a few years ago, and her presence might heighten tensions. Take Sergeant Neskahi and make sure you’re both wearing vests.”
“Copy.” Ella looked at her brother. “Can you suggest a meeting place?”
“How about one of the oil company’s
service roads northeast of Beclabito? I know of one spot that’s pretty flat. I think there used to be a big stock pond there at one time.”
“The place Mom likes to go pick herbs for her tea,” she said with a nod. “That’s a good idea. Let’s set it up for two hours from now. That’ll give me time to round up the sergeant. Now to the more immediate problem. How are you going to make sure they contact
you while you’re well away from your house?”
“If they’re still where I saw them last, I’ll pull over to the shoulder of the road and walk right up to them.”
“Want me to get someone to cover you?” Ella said.
“No, it’s a public place and they’re not interested in trouble. Pulling something now would be counterintuitive.”
As Clifford walked out, Big Ed looked at Ella. “What’s the latest on Bowman’s
partner, Gilbert Romero?”
“No news. He’s either on the run or gone to ground.”
“Off the record, what’s your take on what Bowman told you, Shorty?”
“My gut tells me that they’re not the snake-eyes killer, Chief. But Romero’s one dangerous Navajo and he’s still out there—armed. We need to find him.”
“Get it done.”
TWENTY
Ella and Neskahi parked at the end of the oil company’s service road, then climbed out of the tribal SUV. The rhythmic mechanical swoosh of the massive pump stood in stark contrast to the dry grasses and juniper covered hills northeast of Beclabito.
The closest dwelling was at least a mile south, closer to Highway 64 and nearly hidden by the terrain. Ella turned to Neskahi, who was checking
his shotgun, and adjusted her highly visible vest. Her handgun was holstered at her side within easy reach. They weren’t looking for trouble, but if it came, they’d meet it head-on.
“There’s the sheep trail,” Joe said, pointing to the dirt track leading up a shallow arroyo.
“They’re supposed to meet us there just around a bend in the arroyo. You ready?”
Joe nodded. “Want me to take point?”
“No. They expect to see me first so let’s play it out. But let’s go along the top instead of walking through the arroyo. You take the right flank, and I’ll cover the left.”
Ella walked along the top, checking the dry wash for anyone hiding below. She could see the imprints of small, pointed sheep and goat hooves. Judging from the color of the unearthed sand, now dried out and the same color as
the surface, she guessed the flock had come through earlier today.
They continued along the arroyo, which deepened as they moved upslope. Reaching a fork in the wash, they saw three men standing below, one at the junction, and the other two several feet away, in opposite channels.
Ella braced for trouble, but Delbert John, who saw her first, didn’t appear armed. Instead, he waved, then turned
to nod at Joe, letting him know he’d been seen, too.
“Don’t bother looking for weapons,” he said as they approached. “This isn’t a confrontation. We asked for a meet because we’re both interested in keeping the
Diné
safe.”
Ella nodded but didn’t comment.
“But this meeting is intended to be private. No recording devices,” he said, climbing out of the arroyo at a spot where the bank had caved
in.
“As a gesture of good will, we’ll turn them off,” she said. Glancing at Neskahi, Ella nodded, and he switched off the mike attached to his uniform at the shoulder epaulet. Then she looked back at Delbert. “Don’t make us regret it.”
“If we’d wanted a fight, you would never have gotten this close.” He waved at Peter and Robert, then Neskahi, to approach him and Ella.
Once they were all together
in a loose circle not far from the arroyo, Delbert sat down on a flat rock. The others crouched down on their knees, except for Neskahi, who continued to stand, shotgun at quarter arms.
“We have a theory about the snake-eyes shooter,” Delbert said, looking solely at Ella. “Our sources have said that you believe Romero and Bowman are the ones behind this, but you’re wrong. Those two are more like
rabid dogs—they strike without thought or reason. The snake-eyes killer stalks his victims like a mountain lion, using patience and planning.”
Delbert’s sources were wrong, which was actually good news. She and Detective Nez had pretty much ruled out the pair as the snake-eyes killer. She knew now that whoever had been in contact with the Fierce Ones
wasn’t
in the inner circle of their investigation.
Her team, and the county people working with Dan, had kept security.
Still, there might be information she could use. “Do you have any idea where Romero might be hiding right now?”
Delbert let his breath out in a hiss. “So it’s true. The other one’s dead?”
Ella nodded, knowing he’d find out soon enough on the news.
Delbert frowned. “The one that’s left will be more dangerous than ever now.
He’ll want revenge for the loss of his friend and will be eager to force a confrontation.”
“We’ll bring him in,” Ella said. “We’ve dealt with this before.”
“Maybe so, but that will only solve one of your problems. You have no idea who the real snake-eyes killer is, or why he’s striking out at the
Diné
. We’d like to help. I’m told he stalks people who’ve been drinking in bars. We can get some
of our men to ride solo, make it look like they’ve had one too many, and draw them in. Then you can make the arrest.”
“We can’t have civilians taking on these kinds of risks, or operating outside the law. I repeat—this is
our
job. We’ll handle it,” Ella said.
Delbert stared at the ground, then after several moments looked back up. “Don’t count on our cooperation. Things will get ugly in a hurry
if any other member of our tribe is killed.”
“It’s possible that not all the victims were Navajo,” Ella said. “One death happened outside our borders.”
“You mean the Mexican national,” Delbert said, proving that the Fierce Ones had a reliable source, at least at some level.
Ella shrugged.
Faced with her silence, Delbert finally continued. “That man wasn’t killed the same way. It may not have
anything to do with us. Either way, that’s county’s problem.”
“In case you’re interested, the detective leading that investigation is Navajo.”
“You mean Nez?” Delbert spat out an oath. “He’s worthless—an apple—red on the outside, white on the inside.”
“Detective Nez’s personal philosophy isn’t an issue as far as I’m concerned,” Ella said, recalling that she’d been painted with that same brush
years ago when she returned to the Navajo Nation—as an FBI agent. “He’s a good detective who won’t stop until he gets answers. That’s enough for me.”
“So just to make sure we’re on the same track. What you’re telling me is that you’d rather join forces with Anglo agencies than accept our help?” He glared at her, then after a beat, shrugged. “Know that if we get to the killer first, the county
will be spared the expense of a trial.”
Ella had never reacted well to threats, and it was no different now. She took a half step toward him, then stopped. She couldn’t let him get to her now. She’d lose control of the situation.
After a long pause, she finally answered. “If you really want to help the
Diné
, then contact me if you get a lead—a name, a witness, anything. Vigilante justice won’t
restore harmony.”
“We can restore order more effectively than you can.”
“No, evil doesn’t neutralize evil. At best, it just allows one evil to defeat another.”
“Weakness can never defeat strength.”
“Refusing to become part of the evil you’re fighting isn’t weakness. Until you can understand that, you won’t be able to help the
Diné
.”
“We’re done here,” Delbert said, then signaled his men with
a cock of his head. The trio walked away.
“For a while there, I was sure you were going to deck him,” Joe said, crossing the arroyo to join her. “Rearrange-the-face-of-evil type of thing.”
Ella chuckled softly. “I thought about it, believe me.”
Joe and she were inside the tribal unit on the way back when Dan called her on the cell phone.
“We found Romero’s white pickup about forty miles away
from where you last saw him. It was abandoned in a parking lot in Aztec, where another vehicle was just reported stolen.”
“Is Romero’s truck in impound yet?”
“Just arrived. Our crime scene unit is processing it now. They’ve already found Romero’s and Bowman’s prints all over it—no surprise—but nothing that ties them to the murders in Hogback.”
“What’s Romero driving now?”
“A blue, heavy-duty
Ford SUV.”
“Did you put an ATL on it?”
“Yeah, and every agency in the Four Corners area will see the bulletin.”
By the time they reached Shiprock again, the sun was setting. “Drop me off at my house,” Ella told Neskahi. “And please pick me up tomorrow on your way to the station. Justine’s got lab work so she’ll probably be going in early.”
“No problem,” Neskahi said. “By the way, she’s kind
of annoyed that you chose me instead of her as your backup today,” Joe said as he turned south onto Highway 491.
“I know, but it was the right call. And thanks for having my back out there. I noticed you bringing the shotgun to your shoulder when I got in Delbert’s face.”
Neskahi chuckled. “So did they.”
After he dropped her off, Ella stood at the end of the driveway, watching the bright kitchen
lights and hearing her family’s voices coming from inside. No matter how crazy things got, her family kept her grounded. Each of them held a special place in her heart and helped her stay on track.
Ella walked up and as she reached for the screen door handle, Rose came out and gave Ella a hug. “I love the painting. Thank you, Daughter.”
Happy to see Rose in such a good mood, Ella followed her
inside. “It’s good to see you smile again, Mom. We’ve been worried about you.”
“I have some things I need to work out for myself, Daughter, but nothing’s wrong.”
Although it wasn’t easy, Ella nodded and forced herself to respect her mother’s privacy.
“I saw the name at the bottom corner of the painting,” Rose said. “I didn’t know FB-Eyes’ wife was an artist. She must like to hike, too. The
bearberry plant makes its home on the mountain slopes.”
“She likes being outdoors, but I think she mentioned that this was actually growing in her backyard.”
“Someone had to have dug it up, brought it down to the valley, and managed to keep it alive. Did you remember that particular plant? Is that why you brought the painting to me?”
“It caught my eye, but I’m not sure why,” Ella said, following
her to the living room.
“When you were young, our family would sometimes go up into the mountains and pick the leaves for your dad. Once dried, they could be mixed with store-bought tobacco and smoked. Your father would use that as a way of cutting back on expenses. Later, I discovered the leaves had medicinal uses, too. Bearberry could be used as a disinfectant, and also to reduce inflammation.”
Rose led Ella into the short hallway that linked the recent edition to the kitchen and showed her where she’d hung the painting. “Every time I pass by it’ll bring back happy memories,” Rose said.
“I think FB-Eyes’ wife would love to know more about the plants she’s been painting. You two should get together. She’d really enjoy meeting you, Mom.”
As they were talking, Dawn went into the kitchen.
Seeing Ella down the hall, she quickly ducked out of sight by the refrigerator.
“How’s she been acting today?” Ella whispered.
“She’s stayed in her room despite not having a phone. She’s still got an Internet connection, but her father did something to her computer so she can’t use e-mail or chat. When she found out she got terribly upset and called him using the house phone. She couldn’t get
him to change his mind, so she locked herself in her room,” Rose said. “He spoke to me afterward and said that he’d tell you about it later.”