Shooting Chant (4 page)

“I didn’t exactly flatten him,” Ella said, unable to suppress a smile. “He was giving me a hard time about
wasting my time with the baton when, in his opinion, I should have been out on the pistol range. I decided to show him how effective our nightstick is when combined with proper training.”

“He outweighs you by at least a hundred pounds, so he must have made quite a thud when he hit the mat.”

“I swear the floor shook. Actually, I tripped him,” Ella laughed. “He was waiting for me to come at him
directly, so I did a little acting and backed away as if unsure what to do. He advanced then, thinking I was an easy mark, and that’s when I swept his legs out from under him.”

“You cheated!” Justine said, laughing.

“I proved a point. A nonviolent encounter has definite advantages, such as providing a still breathing suspect to interrogate.”

Justine regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re changing,
Ella. I’ve noticed there’s something different about you lately.”

“How so?”

Justine considered it. “Off the record?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re nicer to people … showing less of an edge somehow.” Justine stopped speaking, her eyes suddenly growing wide. “I didn’t mean that you’re becoming a wimp, or anything like that.”

Ella laughed. “The thought never occurred to me.”

Justine relaxed. “Good,
because I think this change is for the better.” Justine shook her head. “I better shut up before I find myself behind a records desk in Window Rock.”

“No chance of that. I’ll always need you for the forensic work, and to help with my caseload.”

“Ah, good old job security. I’ll take it any way I can get it.”

Hearing other vehicles pulling up, Ella went to the window. “I guess PD called the clinic
administrator.”

Justine made a face. “Myrna Manus? She’s the reason I never get sick. There’s a disease with her name on it, I’ve heard.”

Ella shook her head. “Relax. She acts the same way with everyone. Nobody can remember the last time she cracked a smile—though a lot of rude bets float around.”

“I’ve heard them,” Justine said with a grin.

A second later Myrna came into the room, cursing
under her breath in Navajo. It was obvious she’d been hauled out of bed by the news and had dressed in a hurry. Her blouse was one button off all the way down, and her hair was matted down in the back. She glowered at Ella. “This better be a result of the break-in, not the investigation,” she said, waving her hand at the mess surrounding them. “And bullet holes?”

“Not mine. The place was pretty
much in chaos when I came in,” Ella answered.

Myrna went through the clinic, checking each room, and stepping around errant papers. “What were they after? It couldn’t have been drugs. We’ve made it clear to everyone that we don’t keep much of those kind of meds here.”

“I saw one of the perpetrators looking through the records,” Ella said, then added, “They must have searched the computer files,
too.”

Myrna stopped by a locked cabinet that had been forced open with a screwdriver or pry bar. “I can see they took our insulin, some antibiotics, and a few asthma meds we keep on hand. But that’s not much of a haul.” She walked to her desk and looked at the empty bottom drawer, now broken and lying on the floor. “The money is gone, too. We keep about fifty dollars and change in the drawer.
The rest is deposited daily.”

Ella gestured to the file cabinet, now on its side. “What kind of records are stored there?”

“Mostly patient files that have been pulled for lab workups,” Myrna said. “But to figure out if something’s missing, I’ll need to sort everything out and that’s not going to be easy. They did a good job scattering records all over the floor, so it’s going to take some time
to put things back together. I can start now if you want, but I was told outside not to touch anything.”

“Our people will give you full access soon, but first the scene needs to be processed. We’re hoping to recover some fingerprints.”

“Do you have any idea how many people touch those cabinets? We have our staff, the doctors who come from the hospital, the interns, the cleaning staff, and so
on.”

“We’ll fingerprint them and begin the process of ruling them out, then see what’s left.” She didn’t want to tell Myrna that one of the perps had worn gloves, and if the others had, too, it was going to be a waste of time.

“I’m going to stay right here while your people work. I’m responsible for everything that happens at this clinic, and I intend to see to it that you all do your jobs.”

Ella didn’t argue. It would be futile anyway. Instead, she looked around for Justine. Finding her dusting the overturned file cabinet for prints, she went over to join her.

An hour later, no longer needed at the scene, Ella finally left the clinic and climbed into her vehicle. She was tired tonight, more so than usual. Too much had happened today. She tried to remember when she’d eaten last, but
all she could recall was having a couple of tortillas with cheese nuked in the microwave back at the station before noon. No wonder she was starving. She’d always had a healthy appetite, but it was worse than ever these days, even if it was still only in her mind that she was eating for two.

Ella smiled to herself. She was going to have a baby! She still couldn’t quite believe it. No matter how
it ended up changing her life, she couldn’t have been happier. After all these years of hearing her biological clock ticking away, she was going to be a mom!

The crazy part was that even before she’d taken the tests, she’d known. Of course, missing her period had been a real giveaway. But, in truth, she’d known long before that. Maybe it was a part of the intuition that came with being a woman,
or maybe it was simply a matter of being in tune with her own body. Yet how she’d known didn’t seem nearly as important now as the fact that she was going to be a parent.

Realistically, she knew that being a cop and a mom would be difficult, but she also knew that like many before her, she’d manage. She would divide her time between her child and her job and make it work. Women were used to reorganizing
priorities to accommodate changing circumstances.

As she pulled up in front of her home, Two, her mother’s dog, came up to greet her. His entire rear end wiggled along with the tail. She patted the scraggly looking mutt on the head and went inside. “Lonely tonight, Two? You’ve got me for company now, and it won’t be long before Mom’s back from the Plant Watchers meeting.”

Ella had wanted to
go to the meeting tonight with her mom, but it hadn’t been possible. She’d try to make it next time for sure. She loved learning about herbs—how to heal with them and how to work with them. It made her feel much more connected to the tribe. Best of all, sharing a common interest with her mother had helped her bridge the gap that had existed between them for so many years. They were closer now than
they’d ever been.

The dog laid down in the kitchen beside his kibble dish and let out a sigh.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re starving, too?” Ella fed the dog, then started fixing her own dinner.

Thirty minutes later, Ella sat down at the table with two massive hamburgers, some leftover mutton stew, and half a loaf of bread. A quart of milk and a tall glass were at her left hand to wash down
the meal. She’d just taken her first bite when she heard a vehicle pull up and then her mother saying good-night to a friend.

Rose came in moments later, leaning on her cane for support. “Hello, Daughter.” She looked at Ella’s full plate and laughed. “Just a little bedtime snack?”

“Way beyond that. I’m famished after skipping lunch and dinner. Can I get you something?”

Rose shook her head.
“No, thanks. I snacked on cookies for half the evening.”

Ella looked at Rose. She’d made remarkable progress in the past year recuperating from a devastating accident. She’d almost lost the use of her legs after a drunk driver had smashed into her car. Her mom credited the Plant Watchers and the support of her friends for some of her headway. But at the root of her progress was Rose’s own inner
strength. She was a formidable woman.

“I’m going to bed early tonight,” Rose said. “I want to do some redecorating tomorrow. It’s time we turned your father’s old office into something more useful to us. Your father has been dead for several years now, and it’s not right to waste all that space. That’s one of the largest rooms in the house.”

“What are you planning to do with it?”

“I know you
use the desk and the bookshelves, so I’m keeping that side of the room as it is, but I’m turning the rest of it into my new sewing room. I’ve been using your brother’s old room for that, but since it’s right next to your bedroom, I always feel guilty using the sewing machine at night when you’re sleeping.”

It all sounded logical, but Ella couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had guessed that
she was pregnant. Relocating her sewing room might have been Rose’s way of making it possible for Ella to have a nursery.

Ella looked at her mother, studying her expression, and doing her best to read her, but it was useless. It was impossible for anyone to tell what her mom was thinking unless she chose to reveal it. It had been that way as long as Ella could remember.

Ella remained silent.
She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about her pregnancy yet. The baby’s father deserved to be the first person she told, though she knew it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t welcome the news.

After Rose went to bed, a hushed stillness fell over the house. Enjoying the peace and quiet, Ella finished her meal, washed the dishes, then went outside for a walk. It was almost midnight and time
for her to go to bed, but she was too restless.

Ella let the night breeze envelope her. It was said that Wind carried messages, but all she could hear tonight was the rustle of the leaves. Suddenly an owl’s cry pierced the quiet that surrounded her. She looked up at the pine tree a few yards from the house. An owl was perched in one of the lower branches. It looked at her for a moment, then flew
away.

Ella felt a cold chill envelope her. The traditionalists believed that an owl was a sign that terrible things were on the way, and death was at the door. She placed one hand protectively over her stomach. But that was just superstition. The owl meant death only if you were a rodent. Pushing the queasiness aside, she walked back into the house.

S
EPTEMBER
10
TH

Ella arrived at her office
the next morning just as the intercom buzzer sounded. She went to her desk quickly, knowing who was calling even before she pushed down the button. Only one officer beat her into work every morning—Big Ed Atcitty, the chief of police.

“Hey, Shorty, get in here. We’ve got to talk.”

“I’ll be right there,” she said. He still persisted in calling her Shorty, though at five foot ten she was taller
than most Navajos, including the stocky police chief himself.

As she walked in, he gestured silently to a seat while he finished writing something down. Moments later, he looked up. “What happened at LabKote yesterday?”

“Outwardly, it looked like a suicide, but I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with.”

“Does the evidence back you up on that?”

“There are some inconsistencies but, at this
point, it’s just a hunch. I’ll know more when I get Carolyn’s report.”

“Taylor’s a good man. Work with him. I know the victim was an Anglo who lives outside our borders, and I don’t want this to turn into a jurisdictional war.”

“Understood.”

“Now tell me. What’s your impression of what happened at the clinic last night?”

Ella took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Though she’d forgotten
about the bump on her head, it now began aching again. “At first I thought I was up against a big kid, but it turned out to be men. There were three of them, in fact, and they kept their cool—like pros.”

“Were they Navajo?”

“I can’t say. I never got a clear look at the guy I handcuffed, and I only saw the outlines of the others. I was navigating by the glow of one computer monitor.”

“I heard
from Myrna Manus that some files appear to be missing, but she hasn’t found a pattern to what was taken. Any indication what they were after?”

“My initial reaction was that they were probably after drugs and cash, but the evidence doesn’t entirely support that. I need to dig up a lead or two before I can come up with a theory.”

“I’ve got something else I want you to look into personally.” He
hesitated. “There’s something weird going on,” he said slowly.

Although a long silence ensued, Ella didn’t interrupt Big Ed. She knew that the rhythms and patterns of speech on the reservation were much different from the way they were on the outside. A long silence here simply meant the person was still thinking, and interrupting them was considered extremely rude.

“My wife, Claire, had a prized
ewe she was very proud of,” Big Ed said at last. “Our daughter showed the animal at the Agricultural Society’s show over at the fairgrounds recently, and she won all kinds of ribbons. The ewe was going to be auctioned, but we found the animal dead this morning. Her throat had been slashed.”

“Was she butchered and the meat taken? You see that once in a while around here.”

“No, the meat was left
for my wife. The animal was the result of artificial insemination and that made some of the traditionalists who were also exhibiting their animals very angry. Claire is sure that Angela Charlie is responsible. She came in second and complained a lot.”

“Angela Charlie is a traditionalist, I know that.”

“I think her husband, Gene Charlie, is also a member of the Fierce Ones.”

The secret vigilante
group known as the Fierce Ones espoused traditionalist values and, philosophically, they had some good ideas. Their problem was that they often used underhanded means and strong-arm tactics to achieve a goal. “Is there any evidence linking the killing to Angela or the traditionalists, other than the typical method of slaughter?”

Big Ed nodded. “A couple of things. The large intestine was thrown
toward our home. According to the old ways, it then becomes another sheep. Also, we found the head of the animal sprinkled with pollen and laid beneath a juniper. That’s said to tell Talking God and Black God to bring another animal.”