Blackening Song (31 page)

Ella handled the pages by their edges. Letters cut from newspapers spelled,
“YOU WILL FIND ONLY DEATH,” “ENEMIES OF THE TRIBE,”
and finally, “
DO NOT INTERFERE. DEATH STALKS
YOU
.”

“I have to take these in,” Ella said, reaching for the envelopes and noting they were postmarked from inside the reservation. “The bureau has state-of-the-art equipment, and with a bit of luck maybe they’ll get prints.”

“First, I want to see if the construction crew is working on your father’s church,” Rose said flatly.

“Mom, they’re probably still trying to get the wreckage hauled away
and get reorganized.”

“We’ll go anyway.”

Ella took a large manila envelope from her father’s desk. After dropping the letters and envelopes inside, she retrieved her truck keys from a hook in the kitchen. “Why does it have to be right now? Couldn’t this wait a bit?”

Rose walked with Ella to the pickup. “If we received these notes today, it’s possible they got some threats too. I want to make
sure they don’t lose their courage and cave in to our enemies.”

Ella didn’t dispute her mother’s logic. She’d considered the same possibility. What worried her most was how her mother would take it if the construction company pulled out of the deal.

“I’ll stop by on the way to see Blalock, Mother. No sense in making yourself a public target.”

“Haven’t you realized you can still protect me when
we’re away from our home?” Rose asked. “Where is your faith in yourself?”

The question surprised her. “Of course I can protect you. I trust my instincts and my training.”

“That’s not the faith I had in mind,” Rose answered. “I’m talking about what is part of you, your birthright—what you insist is only intuition.”

“I can use logic to explain the insights you call magic,” Ella said. “Clifford
accepts your explanation. I admit, he’s really talented, a natural magician. I never could figure out most of his tricks. When we were growing up, half of the kids were terrified of him because they really believed he could do, or see, things they could not.”

“He never harmed anyone.”

“True, but he played with other people’s beliefs—too much, in my opinion. He played the role of medicine man
to the hilt.”

“He eventually learned to put it into perspective, but being a
hataalii
is a major part of his life. Still, there are other things he values just as much, if not more,” Rose answered.

“His natural abilities, like his charisma and his leadership, are at the center of everything he’s become. But he’s paid a high price for following that life path. The ordinary goals, the hopes and
dreams that most people have, are completely foreign to him.”

“Is your love for the career you’ve chosen so different from his?”

“Of course it is. My career gives me purpose and direction, but it isn’t the center of my life.”

“What is?”

Ella opened her mouth to speak, but to her own surprise, she had no ready answer. “I guess, my dreams of the future.”

“And those are?” Rose was relentless.

Ella shook her head. “Don’t you see? Dreams shouldn’t be too structured. That closes a person off from the best part of all: the possibilities.”

“Sometimes that part is what turns on you and destroys. Look at the skinwalkers. They want power, and they get it, but at the expense of their humanity. You have to look closely at what you want and see it from all sides. To walk in beauty, one must
search out balance.”

“I do have balance. I rely on logic and common sense to find firm ground. My job has taught me about myself, and about other people. I know the pitfalls we all face better than most. My abilities may not be the kind you admire in Clifford, but I’ve cultivated them through hard work and training. Whether they stem from police instinct, or are the results of some mythical inheritance,
isn’t as important as the fact that I use them, that I’ve taken them as far as they go.”

“How do you know, if you constantly refuse to acknowledge their possible origin?” Rose shook her head sadly. “You never wanted to be set apart because of who and what you are, but pretending you’re not different doesn’t alter the facts. No matter where you go, you’ll never be just like everyone else.”

Ella
said nothing, her thoughts whirling. She wished, more than anything, to avoid the question her mother had raised. It would stay in her mind, preying on her, until she found an answer. There could not be any more running away.

“Well,” Ella finally spoke. “Are you ready to go to the construction office?”

“No. You’re right, I’ll be safer here. Besides, I’d be a fifth wheel at the police station.”
Rose folded her arms, signifying an end to the conversation.

“You mean after all that…,” Ella blurted out, then shrugged in defeat. “Mothers.”

*   *   *

Ella pulled into the parking lot beside the construction company’s office in Shiprock. The Anglo-owned company leased the space from the tribe.

When she stepped through the front door, it was obvious that threats had been received here too.
Phones rang incessantly at empty desks. Only one harried-looking Navajo secretary remained behind the front counter, trying desperately to answer all incoming calls.

She glanced up when Ella closed the door. “I’d like to see the church’s project manager,” Ella said.

“Sorry. He’s not seeing anyone today. We’ve received more threats, and everyone is scared.”

“There’s a signed contract binding
this company. I won’t leave until I speak to the project manager.” Ella spoke in the same tone she used to place a suspect under arrest, then held out her bureau I.D. and gold shield.

The girl blinked, and for the first time seemed to really focus on Ella. Ignoring the still-ringing phones, the receptionist stood and hurried down the hall to an office in the back. She emerged a minute later and
said, without crossing the room, “Mr. Washburn will see you now, Agent Clah.”

Washburn was a tall, light-skinned Anglo with bright red hair. He stood as Ella came into the room and gestured toward a chair. “I apologize for the chaos, but we’re closing this office today.”

“I came to find out the status of the church project,” Ella said clearly.

“At the moment, work has stopped, and unless I
can keep insurance coverage and bonding, I can’t continue. When I reported getting threatening letters to the police, my insurance company canceled our coverage. Without insurance, I can’t even stay in this building. The owners have asked us to leave as quickly as possible. Their insurance premiums will skyrocket if we don’t have our own coverage.”

“Surely there’s a company somewhere that will
underwrite this project,” Ella challenged. “You’re a businessman. You’ve run up against obstacles before. The contract you have with the church is still in effect.”

“Well, it won’t help you to throw your weight around here, FBI agent or not. I am trying to find another company who’ll insure this project, but it’s going to take some time. That doesn’t mean we won’t build the church, just that
the work will be postponed.”

“If you don’t resume operations, church officials will take whatever legal means are available. Your company won’t do any more business on the reservation.” Ella knew that could happen; it had been done before.

“This isn’t my doing,” Washburn protested. “The tribe has this hassle with your family and the site chosen for the church.”

“This is
not
between my family
and the tribe. Don’t confuse the issue. This is about your company upholding its legal obligations.” Ella was surprised to find herself fighting for her father’s church. She had stepped off the fence when she entered this office.

“I won’t risk the safety of my men. I’d have to add to the security already there, and that’s going to add steeply to our costs.”

“How soon can you get back to work?”
Ella asked pointedly.

“At least two weeks, maybe more. Some of my men have quit, and others, especially the Navajos, won’t work on that site anymore.” He shrugged. “These are circumstances beyond my control. If you want to do something, arrest the people behind the bombing. Then my job can continue on schedule.”

Anger spiraled through Ella, made worse by the fact that the man had a point. “The
law enforcement agencies will do their job. Just make sure you do yours.” Ella strode out of the room without looking back.

Outside, she stood fuming on the sidewalk for a moment, then walked back to her truck, considering the problem from a more rational point of view. She knew a few independent insurance agents in the area. Maybe she could pull some strings and help get the project under way
again.

Ella knew her mother needed this. The church had become a way to keep her husband’s memory alive, to focus her anger, and to avoid the pain, at least for a while. Rose wasn’t used to being alone, not yet.

Ella stared out at the desert, filled with a subtle blend of greens and grays, sand and rocks. Its rugged sameness seemed comforting in a way she’d never experienced before. It spoke
of endurance, and of the strength of spirit that had allowed the Dineh to survive.

Alone.
That word suddenly had many meanings to her. As a girl, the feeling she had attempted to describe with that word had really been the desire to find someone who could understand her needs and fears. Denied that, she’d eventually tried to become another person entirely, hoping to ease the chill inside her.
But she’d never quite fit in anywhere.

Now, as she gazed at the empty stretches of desert, she knew that she was truly home. Here, others could love her as she was. For the first time, Ella realized that her brother and her mother had each known that solitary walk between the ordinary and the borders of darkness. What bonded them was infinitely stronger than whatever separated them, and that
was their greatest strength.

*   *   *

Hours before, after Ella had driven away from her home, a figure in a khaki uniform stood up from behind some concealing brush and walked slowly and silently toward the house. Dog, who’d been lying on the front porch, noticed the movement, and his ears came to attention.

NINETEEN

Wilson sat on the summit of the mesa behind the police station. He felt ridiculous up here, using his hunting binoculars to keep watch on the police. He shouldn’t have let Clifford strong-arm him into this. Then again, convincing people was one of the things Clifford did best. One could always count on him to word things in a way that made refusal impossible.

Wilson checked his watch.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon, but the temperature today wasn’t bad, and there was a breeze. Fall was approaching, and good thing, too, or he would have baked.

He wondered if he should have warned Ella about Clifford’s plans. Then again, Clifford hadn’t given him much of a chance. He’d called from somewhere near his mother’s house and asked Wilson to go to the station and search for any
signs of trouble. He’d be vulnerable while at his mother’s house, and he wanted no trouble from FB-Eyes.

The news had alarmed Wilson. For Clifford to come out in broad daylight seemed foolish to the point of stupidity, and he’d said so. But Clifford had been adamant. He needed to talk to the one member of his family who fully understood his strengths and limitations when dealing with their enemies.
He also needed knowledge his mother possessed, and a few hours of safety in which to prepare.

Wilson had strongly recommended that Clifford speak to Ella and ask for her help. She’d be better able to protect him since she was familiar with police procedure. If any unusual activity occurred, she would spot it. Clifford had said something very odd. He’d said that Ella wasn’t ready, that her own
fears might hold her back at a critical time.

Wilson had started to argue that he too was afraid, and that fear hadn’t prevented any of them from doing what they had to, but something had stopped him. Then Clifford had apologized for saying too much, and asked him to forget it. As if he could. An ever-curious mind had spurred him on through college and further higher education. Dozens of speculations
passed through his mind.

Wilson continued watching the entrance to the police department. Abruptly, several officers rushed to their vehicles, carrying weapons and wearing SWAT gear. Focusing the binoculars, Wilson spotted Peterson Yazzie and Randall Clah. Seconds later, Blalock appeared, wearing a bulletproof vest and carrying a shotgun.

A chill seeped through Wilson. This was what he’d feared.
Someone must have spotted Clifford, and now they were gearing up for an arrest. As Wilson watched the squad cars race down the highway, he admitted that there was a slim chance that they were going someplace else entirely. But even the possibility that they were on their way to Rose Destea’s home filled him with dread.

He had promised Clifford he’d call and warn him, but at the speed the squad
cars were going, Clifford wouldn’t be able to get far. Still, he had to try. Wilson ran to the public phones at the gas station down the road.

Wilson’s hands were sweating as he held onto the receiver. One thing was for sure: he was no macho television cop with nerves of steel.

Rose answered the phone and, using their code, Wilson warned her to expect trouble. He heard her sharp intake of breath,
but she recovered fast, and her voice became steady. “Thanks for your dinner invitation. I’ll ask my daughter.”

She was telling him to stay away. Had they needed or wanted his help, she would have countered his invitation with one of her own. He hung up, unable to suppress his growing fear.

Wilson checked his watch. Almost five, but not quite. Ella had gone to see an old friend who was an independent
insurance agent on the Rez, hoping to convince him to underwrite a policy for the construction firm. With luck, he’d catch her at John Todacheene’s office.

Wilson dialed. She was still there. He filled her in quickly. As he spoke, he could feel her distancing herself from him. By not taking her into his confidence earlier, he’d severed the trust that had begun to grow between them. She’d hold
him accountable for whatever happened from this point on, and he had no doubt Ella could make a formidable enemy.