Enemy Way (8 page)

“Or maybe the person knew, but taunting us held a special appeal.” Ella pursed her lips, deep in thought. “There’s one person I want you to check out for me. She uses a cane. Her name is Jane Clah.”

Justine’s eyebrows shot up. “A relative of our late unlamented police chief?”

“Yes. She was my father-in-law’s aunt. I’ve met her before,
on police business, in that case involving the senator’s daughter and her boyfriend, and I should warn you, there’s something … disturbing … about her.” Ella searched her mind for another word, something that would describe her unsettling meeting with Jane Clah, but came up empty.

“Is she dangerous?” Justine asked.

“You don’t have to worry about her pulling a gun and shooting you, if that’s
what you mean. But you should still be on your guard.”

“You’re being uncharacteristically vague, like when you’re talking about the evil ones.”

Ella took a deep breath then let it out. She didn’t know if Jane Clah was a skinwalker, but it was certainly possible. “After you meet her, you’ll understand. But, in all fairness, it’s possible that my ties to that family have affected my judgement
of her.”

Justine nodded once. She had just started to say something more when she saw Carolyn gesturing from the back door. “I think you’re wanted inside.”

Ella excused herself and went to meet the ME. “Are you through here?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d want a preliminary, though.” Seeing Ella nod, she continued. “My guess is that she was struck by the metal box, and then the bronze horse. The edge
of the metal box caught her in the forehead, and might have stunned her. Maybe it was even thrown. But the horse was what did all the damage. Her skull is caved in, and there’s blood and hair from the victim on its heavy base. The indentions in her skull seem to fit the base, too. But I can’t verify all this until I’m back at the morgue.”

“Did she die as a result of the beating?”

“I can’t say
for sure yet, but it sure looks that way. And there are no burns or burn marks on her hands, body, or clothes. I checked specifically, and can’t find the source of those burned fibers. The fabric that ignited must have come from her assailant’s clothing.” She glanced back at the house. “Wilson’s in bad shape.”

“I know, and when the shock wears off, it’ll be even worse for him. That’s when he’ll
really have to deal with what’s happened. I’ll see him as often as I can, but unfortunately most of the time it will be on business. My mother must have priority on my time off too. I’m sure his family will see to it that he’s okay,” Ella added.

“If he allows anyone to help him,” Carolyn added thoughtfully. “He’s never struck me as the type who’d accept help easily.”

“He’s not,” Ella admitted.
“He’s as independent as I am.”

When Justine came up, Carolyn excused herself. “I’m going to transport the body now. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks.” Ella’s gaze shifted to Justine. “How’s it going?”

“I spoke to one of the uniforms who came by to help us secure the crime scene. He’s been working on the outbreak of burglaries around here, and he asked me what I thought of the
graffiti sprayed on the interior walls.”

“What graffiti?” Ella asked, wondering how she could have missed that.

“Exactly. There isn’t any. This incident breaks the recent burglary MO on two counts, the murder and the absence of spray-paint-defaced walls.”

“The style of shoes, if I’m right, seem to indicate kids though. My guess so far is that Lisa came home unexpectedly, caught them in the
act, and they panicked or she put up a fight, and they killed her. They wouldn’t sign their names in paint after killing someone, I don’t think. Murder gets a lot more attention than burglary.”

“Then our first lead will probably come with finding out who’s been robbing the houses. I’ll try to learn more about the gangs in this area. I have a cousin on the Goodluck side, Thomas Bileen, whom I’m
afraid is turning toward the gang influence. He’s hanging around with some bad company and is giving his parents a hard time, but at least he still says ‘hi’ to me. Maybe I can get something from him if I don’t approach him as a cop. Not being in uniform anymore will help, too.”

“The Many Devils ‘own’ this neighborhood. When we first drove up, I saw a few of the older ones who’ve probably dropped
out of school, and they were wearing the right style shoes, maybe even the same brand. By now, they’re long gone. Too many cops are here, and the last thing the gang kids would do is stick around for questioning. Check with your cousin, and also go through the Juvenile Crime reports and see if any members of the gang have been IDed. Get a few addresses for us. I’ll bet the kids know something
that will lead us to the killers—if we can squeeze it out of them.”

Ute came out and joined them. “I checked everywhere, but there’s no cigarette lighter in sight. Wilson says that the victim didn’t smoke or keep a lighter around. The only matches I found were in a kitchen drawer.”

“Any flammable substances she might have used?”

“Not that we found easily accessible. Certain cleaning compounds
and items like aerosol hair spray can be turned into an effective weapon, but there were no signs of those being used here for that purpose.”

Ella looked at Justine. “Take lab samples for spectral analysis. Something was burned in there besides cloth, and I need to know what and how.”

Ella went inside, to Lisa’s bedroom and bathroom, and studied each location. There were no signs of hair gel
or hair spray or other flammable material. All she could see were a few basics, like shampoo, hand lotion, and lipsticks which were scattered over the top of the dresser. A small bottle of expensive perfume stood on the far corner of the dresser. It was slightly dusty, as if rarely used.

Ella was still searching through Lisa’s things, trying to get a fix on her, when Justine came in. “I’m going
to go talk to some of the neighbors. Maybe one of them saw a kid or a car or something that can help us.”

Ella waved her hand over the dresser. “By the way, there’s no hair gel or petroleum jelly here. If that’s what the goop on the wall is, it probably belongs to one of the intruders. Let me know for sure what it is as soon as you can? That might help narrow down some suspects.”

“Will do. By
the way, Wilson couldn’t think of anything else that might help us out, so I offered to drive him home or back to the college. But he refused. I explained that he can’t stay here, but I don’t think he heard a word I said.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Ella returned to the kitchen and found her friend sitting in exactly the same position she’d left him in. “What can I do to help you?” she asked, sitting
next to him.

“Catch her killer.” He looked up and met Ella’s gaze. “That’s the only thing that means anything to me now.”

“It won’t bring her back,” Ella said gently. “I went through many of the feelings you’re experiencing now when I lost my dad. But after his killers were caught, all I felt was empty.”

He shook his head as if dismissing her answer. “I want them to pay for what they did. I’m
sure you can understand that.”

“Yes, I do. But it won’t be enough. You’ll still have to handle the grief and the anger.”

Wilson looked up at her, anger flashing in his eyes. “There was a time when you and I were close, but we’re different people now. Stop telling me what I should feel and what I should do.”

Ella felt Wilson’s anger, and understood the sorrow that fueled it. “You’re still my
friend,” she said softly. “I care about you.”

“I’ve barely seen you in months. We used to correspond through email, though we lived only a few miles from each other. But lately we haven’t even done that. We’ve gone separate ways and that’s fine. That’s, in fact, all I want now. I need time to myself. Take your cop friends and go. I’m not interested in your pity.”

“I’m not offering any,” she
said in a hard voice. “I know that’s not what you need. But I’m still going to see you and talk to you as much as you’ll allow. I want to help you make it through this if I can.”

Wilson met her gaze and held it unflinchingly. “Your love in life has always been your job, but, for all your dedication, you couldn’t prevent this. Don’t worry about calling me on the phone. Just make sure that justice
is done.”

The words stung, just as he’d meant them to. They’d been friends for too long not to know each other’s vulnerabilities. It took a close friend to cut one so deeply.

Ella said nothing, determined not to meet his anger with her own. Whether or not he admitted it, their friendship was something that had existed for too long to simply fade away. She would honor that.

“Listen to me closely,
because you haven’t understood what Justine and I have been telling you. I’m talking to you as a police officer now, not as a friend. You
can’t
stay here, because this is a crime scene. Until we release the house, we can’t allow anyone not working on this crime investigation to wander around in here.”

“I thought you were already through. People are leaving.”

“For right now, but we’ll be back
to check on details and confirm our findings. What we find out may lead us back to look for something we didn’t think of at first. In the meantime, I can’t risk letting you disturb anything that may possibly furnish us with evidence. I assume that’s the last thing you want to do, too.”

Wilson stood up slowly. “All right. I’ll go. When you’re really finished here, give me a call. It won’t be pleasant,
but I should go through her things, and give away what I can. Her family won’t be coming, and that’s not just because they are traditionalists fearing the chindi. Her mother died of complications from pneumonia about three years ago, and her father is an alcoholic. Nobody’s seen him for many years.”

“What about sisters and brothers?”

“She told me once that she had two sisters who lived in California,
but she never spoke to them. They had some kind of fight, I think. She wouldn’t talk about it, so I’m not even sure where in California they’re living.”

“If you find out anything more about her family, let me know.”

“It’s unlikely. There was no one else she knew very well. Remember that she’s only been at the college for a year. Most of her free time is … was … spent with me,” he corrected,
his voice taut. “Neither one of us had any close friends among the staff. We preferred each other’s company.”

The words made Ella’s chest constrict. She hadn’t had that type of relationship with anyone in years. During her teens years when she’d met Eugene Clah, and in the few years they were married, relationships had been easy. But now … Adults carried too much mental baggage.

Wilson started
walking wearily down the drive, then stopped and turned around. “I heard about your mother’s accident. I hope she heals up quickly and can come home soon.”

Ella nodded once. Wilson had enough problems. She wouldn’t discuss her mother with him now. But his words had served to shift her thoughts to her mother again, and she glanced at her watch. She needed to get back to the hospital soon, but
there was still much for her to do here.

Together with Justine, Ella canvassed houses in the area. The first two she visited, those closest to Lisa’s, were a disappointment. It was obvious the people there didn’t want to talk to her, but she suspected that it had very little to do with the fact that she was a cop. Although the neighborhood was made up mostly of progressives, The People’s response
to anyone who had been in contact with the dead was so ingrained it was almost instinctive. She had a feeling Justine was coming up against the same wall.

As she knocked on the door of the next house, a young woman, about twenty and pregnant, came to the door. This time Ella was invited inside. Surprised, Ella accepted and entered the small living room.

As she looked at the woman, she noticed
her light-colored eyes. Her skin was also several shades lighter than Ella’s.

“My mom was an Anglo,” the woman said, as if reading her mind. “I figured nobody around here was going to talk to you, and I was right. My name’s Lillian Peshlakai. I wanted to talk to you because I’m hoping if I help you, you can also help me.”

“What is it that you need?” Ella asked cautiously.

“My husband Michael
and I just moved here from his mother’s home near Holbrook, Arizona. At first I thought it was my imagination, but now I’m sure that it isn’t. I’m originally from Albuquerque. I don’t believe in superstitions, but there’s something really weird about this neighborhood.”

“Weird how?” Ella pressed.

“Well, at night there’s this gang of young punks that make a nuisance out of themselves knocking
over trash cans, playing loud music, breaking mailboxes, and spray painting their names all over. Nobody here does anything to stop it. I called the cops once, but when they came by, the neighbors got really upset. When I asked them why, I was told that the situation would be taken care of before too long, and I was not to interfere.”

“Who told you this, and who did they say was going to take
care of it?”

“That’s just it. I got no answers. Both my neighbors practically told me to mind my own business after that point. But this
is
my business. Michael and I are buying this home from the tribe. It’ll go to our children after we’re gone. The same applies to the other residents here. That’s why I can’t understand why they don’t fight back. I asked Michael about this, and I think he knows
what’s going on, but he never explained either. He told me to trust him, and I do, but things are beginning to scare me. Michael is a framer for a construction company, so he’s gone for long periods sometimes, and I’m the one who has to stay here alone.”

Ella considered the matter. On the surface, the answer seemed simple. Perhaps the husband didn’t want his wife singled out by the gangs for
retaliation while he was away. But most of the construction workers she knew weren’t known for shying away from trouble. They usually had a lot of strong friends who would back them up, too. Maybe Lillian was right. It sure sounded like something unusual was going on.

“If you’d like to file a complaint—”