Changing Woman (18 page)

The chief suddenly glanced at her, then looked around quickly. “Shorty, go back inside right now,” he yelled over the increasing roar of the fire. “This might be a diversion to draw you out into the open. You’re illuminated right now and a sitting duck for the sniper.”

“I understand, but first, we’ve got to get people to move their vehicles to safety so the fire can’t spread. And, after that,
you’re going to need help to make sure nobody disturbs any evidence around the truck. I’ve got my vest on, and I’ll keep moving, but I’m needed out here right now.”

Big Ed held her gaze, then nodded. “All right, but stay sharp.” After finding the nervous owners of the vehieles
on both sides of the burning truck, the two officers drove their cars away to a safe distance.

Justine showed up ten
minutes later. The fire department had been called, but they were even less funded than the police, and were still on route with their ancient equipment. “I heard the call over the radio,” Justine said. “I was on my way home, but I figured I might be needed here.”

“You figured right,” Ella said. “Let’s start questioning people. I want to know if anyone saw anything, or if they remember someone
leaving early. I was too preoccupied with what was being said during the meeting to notice much of anything going on outside, and no one around me left early. Big Ed was closer to the windows, so talk to him first.”

Justine glanced around, spotting the chief talking to people coming forward for a look at his burning truck. “Did Big Ed get someone at the meeting especially ticked off tonight?”

Ella considered it. “I don’t think so. He defended his viewpoint well, but he didn’t go on a verbal offensive, or make any accusations. But that’s a good angle. Stay on that and ask around. Maybe someone else will have a different take on that.”

As they began to question onlookers Rose approached Ella. “I’d like to go home. Do you need me to stay?”

Ella noticed that her mother was clinging to
Herman’s arm for support. Getting around was difficult for Rose without her cane. Maybe it should have bothered her, but for some reason it didn’t. It seemed so natural, and despite the fact that Herman wasn’t her father, Ella realized it wasn’t so bad seeing her mom with him after all. Maybe adjusting to her mother’s suitor wasn’t going to be as hard as she thought. Knowing that either way, it was
her mother’s business who she choose to see, Ella tried to put her mind on the problem at hand. “Do you remember anyone around you leaving early?”

“No, in fact, I’m sure no one did,” Rose said. “With
the seating up to capacity, everyone would have noticed something like that.”

“Did you see or hear anything that looked suspicious?” Ella pressed.

Herman and Rose both shook their heads.

“This
was calculated to make the chief look as bad as possible tonight,” Ella said wearily, glancing back at his truck. “If they’re trying to discredit him, they’re doing a great job.”

Rose placed her hand on Ella’s arm. “Your chief made his point well, daughter,” she said softly. “Despite what happened, it was a good thing he came tonight. Maybe the politician’s wife,” Rose said referring to Abigail
Yellowhair, “will finally realize how serious the situation is at the police department right now. She’s one of the very few people in a position to help you.”

“She does have a lot of connections,” Ella agreed.

“May I take your mother home?” Herman asked.

Ella nodded, seeing traces of exhaustion on her mother’s face. “I wish you hadn’t come. I know your injured hand is bothering you. But I
have to say that you sure held everyone’s attention when you spoke,” Ella added, a touch of pride in her voice.

“I’ve walked through time longer than you and most of the people here,” Rose said, alluding to her age in the Navajo way.

“Many look up to your mother. It was right for her to take a more active role in what’s been happening,” Herman said.

“It’s time I allowed myself to be more than
just your mother, daughter,” Rose said quietly.

Ella understood. Women had always wielded the real power in the tribe. Unlike the way it was in the Anglo culture, where “traditional” often meant a stay-at-home mom, in the Navajo culture, the word had a deeper meaning. To the
Dineh,
it signified a way of life defined and sustained by religious beliefs and cultural practices. It meant a basis for
thought and action, but it did not
confine a person’s boundaries. If anything, it expanded them.

Women on the Rez often played many different roles. She did so herself on a daily basis, and that was part of what made her life such a fulfilling one. She should have recognized the same need in her mother long before now but, somehow, she hadn’t. Rose had always been just “Mom.”

“I’ll talk to you
when I get home, if you’re still up,” Ella said.

As Rose and Herman walked away, Justine joined her. “I’m getting nowhere, and the chief’s mood is worsening every second. Not that I blame him. His truck is completely toasted.”

“Here comes the fire department now,” Ella said, gesturing.

Ella watched the firemen setting up, trying to coax a stream of water out of the secondhand equipment. The
hose had been repaired in several places, and the pump was barely working. “If this doesn’t prove to those still here that, without funds, we’re all fighting an impossible battle, I don’t know what will,” Ella said quietly.

While the firemen worked, Ella questioned the people still hanging around, but after ninety minutes of negative responses all she had to show for her efforts was a great deal
of frustration.

At long last, out of water and with no hydrant nearby, the firemen began putting away their equipment. Justine then began sorting through what little evidence there was from around the burned truck.

Ella saw Big Ed standing by the building, a scowl on his face, and walked over, intending to offer him a ride home. Before she could reach him, the chief’s wife, Claire, pulled up
in her old four-wheel-drive SUV.

Big Ed saw Ella approaching and went to meet her. “Shorty, I’m going home. I’ll send a wrecker over tomorrow morning to haul what’s left of my truck to the
junkyard. Let me know what you and your assistant find out after you review the evidence.”

“We’ll have a report on your desk sometime tomorrow,” she said.

Big Ed gave her a tight-lipped nod and strode off.

The next few days at the station would be hell. There was no way he’d forget or allow them to forget the vandals who’d publicly humiliated him, not until they had the perp in jail.

“I’m taking what little evidence I’ve gathered back to the station,” Justine said, joining Ella, “then I’ll head home. What about you?”

“I’m going to check out businesses around here that might sell kerosene. Let’s
see if anyone remembers who their last few customers were. At this time of night, I figure it’ll be only a handful of gas stations. After that, I’ll head home too.”

“Good luck.”

Ella got into her unit and drove back to the highway. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to have an eight-to-five job where she could leave her work at the office every evening. Often, after putting
in twelve hours like today, she ended the shift feeling far more frustrated than satisfied.

Of course everyone in law enforcement felt the same way at times. And dealing with a public who didn’t always understand or appreciate what the police were doing—or the cost it exacted on their personal lives—made it a lot tougher.

As she arrived at the first gas station on the way into Shiprock, Wilbert
Jones, the young Navajo night attendant, glanced up and nodded. Ella parked near the entrance to the old-fashioned facility, which also provided simple auto repairs and brake jobs.

Having recognized Ella, Wilbert came out to meet her. “What’s going on? I heard the fire truck going by and saw lights flashing all over the place. Did the Chapter House burn down?”

Ella explained, then got to the
reason for her visit, pointing to the hand-lettered sign that read Kerosene propped up on the windowsill. “Do you remember who bought kerosene from you in the past day or two?”

“No one bought any from me tonight, but we have some regular customers. A lot of traditionalists use kerosene lanterns, and some of those who work construction use kerosene heaters this time of year. Your brother buys
from me several times a year. I think he has a lantern in his medicine hogan.”

She remembered Clifford’s lantern. She’d always cautioned him not to store a lot of the highly flammable liquid. Yet, in reality, fires caused by those lanterns were few and far between.

“Who else carries kerosene?”

“Jeez, Ella, almost any gas station, trading post, or hardware store around here. Paint stores too.
Pick one and they probably have it.”

Ella saw the hope of getting a fast lead on the arsonist disappear before her eyes. With effort, she pushed back her disappointment.

“Okay, thanks.” Ella said good-bye to Wilbert, then made two more stops, but she learned nothing new.

Deciding to delegate the rest of the checks that would need to be done on the retail stores tomorrow, she finally went home.
She needed to get some rest. Tomorrow would be a busy day. In the morning, when Big Ed was in a marginally better mood, she’d tell him what Jaime Bey ale had said about Arthur Benjamin being out for his job. Maybe Big Ed would be able to tell her who might be inclined to help Arthur’s chances by discrediting the department and the chief in particular. But right now, all she wanted to do was see
Dawn, check her e-mail for a chance message from Coyote, and then go to bed.

Ella noticed the lights were all out inside the house when she got home. As she opened the front door and walked in, only Two came to the door to greet her. Ella
bent down and scratched the shaggy dog’s head. “What are you doing up, boy?”

Moving quietly through the house, she stopped by the fridge, picked out a slice
of cold pizza, and, holding it with a paper towel, went to her room.

Two followed her in. “Is this love, or are you after my pizza, mutt?”

Two Ucked his chops.

“Forget it, dog. No chance.”

Ella stripped out of her work clothes, glad to be free of the bulky vest, then wearing a long T-shirt, sat in front of her computer and switched it on. Messages from Coyote came at odd times, as if the man
were famillar with her crazy hours. Tonight, there was nothing, not even e-mail waiting for her. Though Wilson Joe and she often kept in touch via e-mail because of their schedules, lately she hadn’t heard from him at all. She knew he was dating Justine and, although she was glad they’d found each other, she still missed his letters.

She glanced down at Two, who was still eyeing her pizza. “Hey,
dog, how come everyone lately is finding romance, but the train keeps passing me by?” The dog looked at her pizza, then back at her.

She gave him a piece of crust, then consumed the rest while Two was occupied with the more resistant fare.

Ella waited on-line a bit longer, wondering if Coyote would eventually show, but nothing happened and, reluctantly, she shut the computer down. As she started
to climb into bed, Two raised up on his hind legs and leaned against the windowpane. His throaty growl made a prickle race up her spine.

Ella grabbed her pistol from the top shelf, where she kept the weapon so Dawn wouldn’t be able to reach it. Inserting the clip, she stood to one side of the window, peering out as she operated the slide, feeding a round into the chamber. There was nothing outside
that she could see, yet as she glanced down at the dog, she saw his hackles were raised and that he meant business.

Ella set the pistol down, slipped on her jeans and shoes, then grabbed her weapon again. As she passed through the darkened living room, she reached for her bullet-resistant vest and wiggled into it as she moved.

Ella opened the back door and slipped out, using a silent, palms-up
gesture to order Two to wait. There was a figure up ahead, moving beside the woodpile. As she inched closer, Ella realized from the strong smell that he was dousing the firewood with kerosene.

“I’m a police officer and I have a gun. Don’t move.” Ella ordered, wishing she’d brought a flashlight.

Startled, the man took off running.

“Damn!” Ella brought her pistol down and took off after him.
She wouldn’t shoot someone for vandalism, no matter how tempted she was.

Hearing the back door open, she turned her head and saw Two getting out. Though she was running at top speed, Two shot past her, closing the gap between him and the perp like a wolf after a rabbit.

The running man was approaching a parked car up the driveway when the porch lights behind them went on, illuminating the area
somewhat. As he turned his head, Ella realized the vandal was wearing a ski mask. Two suddenly lunged forward, trying to bite him in the leg, but catching only a portion of the man’s baggy trousers.

The car door opened and the man dove inside, simultaneously throwing something at the dog. Two dodged, and barely missed being caught in the slamming door.

As the driver stepped on the accelerator,
Two shot after the car, running parallel to the vehicle to avoid the spray of dust and gravel flying back from the spinning tires, but the vehicle quickly outran the dog.

Ella whistled for Two, who reluctantly gave up the chase, then trotted back to her.

“Good boy! You may be old, but you can really do the job when you have to,” she said, patting the excited animal.

Ella searched the ground
for whatever the man had
tossed at Two and found the plastic water bottle he’d been using to douse the firewood with kerosene. It was still half-full. With luck, it would also have prints she could match up.

Ella was jogging back to the house to call it in when she saw Rose standing by the back door, speaking into Ella’s cell phone. “Did you call the PD?”

Rose nodded, handing the phone to Ella.
“The officer is still on the line.”

“Thanks, Mom. Go back inside. I’m going after them. Check Two and make sure he’s okay. And stay away from the woodpile. It’s been soaked in kerosene.”