On the way over, Ella telephoned the mortuary and waited until Krause’s secretary put him on the line. “Good evening, Mr. Krause. Has Mr. Rainwater come back to work?”
“No, and I’ve got to tell you, I’m none too happy about that. I’ve been thinking that it probably has something to do with that black face paint I asked him to wash off. He must be more religious than I thought. But,
in either case, unless he’s got an amazing explanation, he’s going to find himself back on the job market tomorrow.”
“We may need to talk to you within an hour or two. Can you tell us if you’ll be at home?”
“Not until later this evening. I’m stuck here at the office, drowning in paperwork. But I may step out for dinner, so call first unless you want to take a chance on missing me.”
“Will do.
Thanks a lot,” Ella said, then hung up.
“That was smooth,” Justine said.
“Just covering all the bases,” Ella murmured, then shook her
head. “I hate having to do this, Justine. But if I wade through channels on my own to get a court order, Krause might get wind of what I’m doing, know we’re onto him, and cover his tracks—and if he knows where Thomas is, he may just kill him. Or he may just keep
stalling. Either way, Agent Thomas is a dead man.”
“Then, in this particular case, we’re obeying a higher law and doing what’s necessary,” Justine said quietly.
Ella nodded. “What worries me is that I know that this type of thinking is dangerous,” Ella said somberly. “Once a person starts believing that the law isn’t enough, a vigilante is born.”
“You and I both know that if your back wasn’t
to the wall, you—we—would have never taken this route. Simmons will send a troop of agents onto the Rez if we don’t get answers soon.”
She nodded. “And blame us all for being incompetent, if my impression of him is correct. Simmons will be here later tonight or tomorrow morning, depending on how long it takes him to drive to the Rez after he talks to his people in Albuquerque. It’s now or never.”
They arrived in Farmington about forty minutes later. Krause’s house was in a new residential neighborhood on the north side, filled with the kind of fancy houses Ella knew she’d never be able to afford. Krause’s two-story house, with wrought-iron scrollwork and clay tile roof, was at the end of a cul-de-sac.
“So what’s your plan?” Justine said, parking about half a block down.
“I’m going
into his garage first. I want to check out his second vehicle. Then I’m going to take a look around the house.”
“The best way in will be through the garage window on the right side,” Justine said, pointing. “You have maximum cover there because of the partition that screens the trash cans from view.”
“Agreed. At least the sun is setting now and it’ll be dark soon. Keep a sharp lookout, but if
something goes wrong, just drive away.”
Justine exhaled softly. “I don’t see any sign of an alarm system. Just don’t get caught.”
“I meant it, Justine. If things go sour, cut and run.”
Justine didn’t answer directly. “What’s the signal if I spot trouble?”
“Call me. I’ll set my cell phone to vibrate,” Ella said, reaching down and pushing the button that changed the mode. She stuck the phone
on her belt, then opened the pickup door.
Her long hair tucked inside a baseball cap and wearing a blue windbreaker, Ella got out of the pickup. She had a clipboard and a pen in hand and walked quickly across the driveway, looking up at the house and pretending to write something down, as if she were some kind of inspector, taking notes.
Heading down the side of the house, she wasn’t visible
to anyone in the house next door due to a six-foot-high stucco wall. Once she stepped past the trash cans hidden behind the partition, she went over to the garage window and peered inside, putting on a pair of disposable latex gloves.
The window was locked tight, but between the garage and the neighbor’s wall was a wide gate in the wooden fence that closed off the backyard. The gate was fastened,
but she was able to reach over and unlatch it easily. The yard was tastefully landscaped with roses and a lawn so green they must have had a regular gardening service. From here she could see a back door leading into the garage.
The lock was so simple all it took was a twist of her pocket knife into the mechanism to open it and slip inside. The garage held a blend of new-car smell and motor oil.
Taking a flashlight from her jacket pocket, she looked around. An enormous luxury-model SUV—a Ford Excursion—took up half of the garage, and had a real chance of scraping the top of the garage door if the two-hundred-dollar tires were accidentally overinflated. The black—naturally—vehicle was spotless, making Ella suspect that the mortuary’s owner spent a part of every day making sure no dust
marred the beautiful finish.
Ella crouched down to examine the oversized tires and studied the treads. This was the only area where dirt had accumulated. A twig just big enough to lodge between the treads was jammed in firmly, held by dried clay that resembled the color and texture she’d noticed up by the irrigation ditch.
The tread patterns she’d seen in the tracks by the ditch were either
identical or very similar to these tires, but only a photo comparison would prove it. If she had time, and the damaged section wasn’t on the bottom, she might be able to find that thin slice she’d noticed in the track left back on the Rez.
Seeing some seeds stuck inside the tread, she took out her pocket knife and worked them out into the palm of her hand. Ella had no idea what plant they came
from, but Rose or Clifford probably would. She placed the seeds and the twig into a plastic selfseal bag along with a scraping of the clay, then stuck the bag into her pocket.
Ella started to look for the cut in the tread of a right side tire when her cell phone began to vibrate. Headlights shining through the garage window traveled along the opposite wall and told her a vehicle had come around
the corner and was close. Staying low, Ella slipped out the back door of the garage, closed it gently, then ducked behind one of the rosebushes. It was dark now, and with the wooden fence blocking her from the street, she was safe for the moment.
Seeing the emergency lights of a patrol car through small gaps in the cedar pickets of the fence, she moved toward the back wall of the house, screening
herself by staying in line with the rosebush as much as possible. Someone, probably a neighbor, had seen or heard her and had called the police—unless, of course, there was a silent alarm in the garage she hadn’t noticed.
Ella reached the back wall and pulled herself up high enough to look over. There was an easement, really an alley, and another wall on the other side. Seeing no dogs or people
in either direction, she clambered over and dropped quietly to the ground, crouching low.
Chances were there was only one police car responding to the
call, so she’d have a clear run if she moved out quickly. She raced down the easement, stopped at the street and checked for cars, then turned left and ran down the sidewalk until she reached another alley. Ducking inside, she removed her cap,
placed it into her pocket, and allowed her hair to fall around her shoulders. Ella turned her jacket inside out—it was reversible to another color—and put it back on as she stepped back out onto the sidewalk.
Dialing as she walked briskly away from the area, she gave Justine her location. A few blocks later, she saw Justine parked at the curb, waiting. Ella got in quickly and, before she’d even
closed the door, Justine was driving off.
“Good timing,” Ella said.
“I just saw the one police car. Was it worth it?” Justine asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes, I think it was.” Ella told her what she’d found as she labeled the bag with the time and place—for her own use, not as evidence that could be considered in a trial. “The black Excursion was in pristine condition, Justine. That’s not
his everyday car, it’s his baby. It was so clean I have a feeling that he doesn’t drive it too often. That makes the clay, the seeds, and the twig interesting pieces of evidence. The clay may match the soil by the irrigation ditch. If the twig and the seeds aren’t from the same location, maybe they’ll lead us to Agent Thomas.”
“I can test the clay, but don’t count on anything conclusive because
the sample may have been contaminated with road debris from his trip back. But how about asking your mom about the plant material? She knows more about that than even Clifford.”
“That’s who I was thinking of, too.”
It took another hour for them to drive back to Justine’s, pick up Ella’s unit and return to Ella’s house. Several cars were still parked there and Ella sighed as she pulled up, looking
for a place to park.
“I’m glad Dawn’s with Kevin right now. Mom’s probably in a foul mood if her meeting’s taken this long. Let’s slip through the living room as quickly as possible, okay?”
Ella led the way inside, entering through the kitchen door.
“Grab whatever you can from the fridge,” she whispered. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Rose came in to see who was in the kitchen, apparently,
and hearing what Ella had said, shook her head. “No, let me fix you both a proper dinner.”
“No, Mom. We don’t have that much time.”
“I’ll make you a
naniscaada
sandwich. Fried Spam, some onions and a tomato. Making two will only take a few moments.”
Ella had heard that the big grocery store in Shiprock sold more Spam and Pepsi than any other merchant in the state. These types of sandwiches
were common to the Rez, but none were as good as her mom’s. Her special touches made her sandwiches delicious. Today she was putting in just a hint of homemade green chile salsa on top of the fried Spam.
Ella got her mother’s attention again as soon as the sandwiches were done. “Mom, I need you to look at something for me,” she said, turning around in her chair after taking a few quick bites
of her sandwich. “Can you tell me where these seeds and the twig come from?” Ella fished the plastic bag out of her pocket and handed it to her. “Take them out if you like, but don’t spill the clay. I’ll need to save that.”
While Ella and Justine ate, Rose studied the evidence carefully, taking one seed out to sniff it and feel the texture in her hand before answering. “I think this is from the
gray greasewood plant. It’s used for skin irritations and for the Evil Way and Navajo Wind Way. It grows in alkaline soil.”
“Okay. So where, exactly, could I find this plant?” Ella asked. Cramming the last bite of sandwich in her mouth, she walked to the counter and began spooning instant coffee granules into a thermos.
“Right now, you mean?” Seeing Ella nod, she shook her head. “I usually find
it while looking for something else, but let me ask the other Plant Watchers. Maybe one of them will know offhand.”
“Go ahead,” Ella said, noting that Justine had turned on the teakettle.
Rose returned a few moments later. “Nobody’s really sure. I could check my maps and tell you where some has been in the past, then get back to you. But if you need to know right away, I think you should talk
to your brother. He’s more likely to know because he uses it more than I do.”
Ella grabbed the thermos and hurried outside with Justine. Soon they were on their way to Clifford’s hogan in Ella’s unit, Justine at the wheel.
“Do you think those seeds will really help us pinpoint Agent Thomas’s location?”
“That’s too much to hope for, but if we narrow it down to a smaller area than we’ve been
searching, or even several areas, and then factor in what we already know, I think things will fall into place. Or as my brother would say, we’ll see the pattern.”
Seeing the skepticism on Justine’s face, Ella added, “We’re close to finding Agent Thomas, Justine. I can feel it. All we need now is a break.”
T
here was no full moon tonight and navigating the narrow dirt road to Clifford’s was always a bumpy proposition. Ella hung on as Justine skirted a hole that was as big around as a washtub and nearly as deep.
“Cuz, I’ve never interrupted my brother when he’s in his hogan with a patient, but this is a case for firsts. If he doesn’t come out right away, I won’t cool my heels. I’m
just going to go right up to the door. That’ll really piss him off, so if that’s what I end up having to do, let me go in alone.”
“You’ve got it.”
As they pulled up and parked, Ella saw a familiar truck near the blanketed entrance. Herman Cloud, her mother’s friend, was there. Ella got out of the unit slowly. Herman wouldn’t have come to see Clifford if he hadn’t been having a problem … maybe
something to do with the accident. He’d had a rough ride after being forced off the highway. Before she could give it much thought, Herman and Clifford came out of the hogan together. Herman waved at her then got into his truck, and drove off. Clifford cocked his head toward the hogan, inviting her in.
As Ella hurried to the hogan she motioned for Justine to come and join them.
“You both look
like you’re in a hurry, so I’m assuming you still haven’t found the missing man. What’s going on, ladies?”
Clifford asked as soon as they were both inside. Several small piñon branches were burning warmly in the center fire pit. During colder months Clifford used a woodstove in his medicine hogan.
Ella brought out the plastic bag containing the evidence she’d collected from the vehicle in Krause’s
garage and held them close to the kerosene lantern so Clifford could see. “I need to know where these seeds can be found, narrowing it down to somewhere between here and Gallup. Mom said that they and the twig come from the gray greasewood plant and recommended I come talk to you.”
He studied them for a moment, then handed the bag back to Ella. “They’re from the plant Mom mentioned, but gray
greasewood grows in a lot of places this side of the mountains.”
“Let me put this another way. Could these seeds have come from an area where there are mine shafts? Coal or uranium or other mines?”
“Sure. I actually collect cuttings of that plant in an area much like what you just described,” he said, and mentioned a spot south of Beautiful Mountain not far from where Melvin Rainwater’s Sing
had been conducted.
“That area’s been searched thoroughly,” Ella said.
“There’s an easy way to tell if those seeds came from an area with uranium mines,” Justine said suddenly. “I should have thought of this before. I could use a Geiger counter on them, and on the clay you collected. The dried mud and the seeds themselves might show the radiation to be at higher levels than normal. That’ll suggest
whether the plant grew near a uranium mine or processing plant, and positively rule out coal mines. But, unfortunately, it won’t tell us exactly
where
to search. Uranium mines are up and down the mountain ranges, and on both sides, east and west.”
As they got under way, Justine glanced over at her. “I know that someone’s trying to slow down the investigation, but have you figured out why? Do
you think they’re buying time so they can wrap things up and leave town before we can make our move,
or are they trying to keep us from finding Thomas alive because he knows something that will lead us to them? But wait, if that were the case, they’d just kill him right now.”
“There are things about this case that still don’t add up right. But if Rainwater and Krause are both involved in slowing
us down, it would explain why we had the problem in Kirtland, and with the ditches, even when Melvin was being shadowed. It’s not all fuzzy anymore. I think we’re getting closer to finding Agent Thomas and maybe when we do, if he’s still alive, he can fill us in.”
Justine nodded, knowing that Ella’s instincts were usually accurate.
“Let’s say we find him alive, but we still can’t arrest the
perps because we don’t have enough evidence,” Justine asked, her voice dying out as if the thought pained her. “What then?”
“At least we’d have him back, and that’s our primary objective right now. As my brother reminded me earlier today, saving this man’s life is the most important thing. Anything else we’ll worry about later.”
“It’s always worse when it’s a fellow officer—or agent in this
case—isn’t it?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “The usual agency rivalries don’t matter much in a situation like this.”
“No, they don’t, even if it means we have to deal with a dinosaur like Simmons. The thing that gets to all of us is that we can easily see ourselves in his shoes. Plus it’s a matter of honor. That’s an old-fashioned word, but it still means something to most law-enforcement
officers. We take care of our brothers and sisters who carry a badge and we count on our peers to watch our backs if we’re ever down. Right now Andy Thomas is betting his life on us.”
They were in Shiprock, heading north and still west of the bridges across the San Juan, when Ella’s cell phone rang. She identified herself and heard Teeny’s satisfied voice on the other end.
“I’ve tracked down
Melvin’s mangy butt. He’s at what I suspect is his girlfriend’s house. Do you want me to grab and haul him over to you?”
“No, just watch and listen and don’t let him out of your sight. I need to get some other information first, then we’ll move in on him together.”
Ella brought Justine up to speed on Teeny’s call. “After we try the Geiger counter on the seeds, we’ll take Rainwater. We’ll use
what we learned about the seeds, pretend we know far more than we do, and try to pressure him into implicating his boss or at least giving us Agent Thomas’s location in exchange for reduced charges.”
They arrived at the station five minutes later and Ella and Justine hurried into the small forensics lab. They’d just walked in when Ella’s cell phone rang again.
“It’s Tache,” the familiar voice
said. “One of the people we questioned about Rainwater’s whereabouts told us that, on his way back from Gallup a few days ago, he saw Melvin just off the highway near the turnoff to Red Rock. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was all I had, so I decided to check things out. I walked around the area between there and Cactus Peak and, down in a low spot not far from the road, I discovered the dismembered
body of an Anglo man. Some of the body parts are missing, like the head and hands, but I found a wallet with an FBI shield and ID in the man’s jacket pocket. There was no money, but there was a credit card. That and the ID belonged to Agent Thomas.”
Ella felt the contents of her stomach burning the back of her throat. Anger choked the air out of her lungs and she felt like slamming her fist into
something.
“Oh, crap. What’s wrong?” Justine asked, glancing over.
“We need to go to the scene of a new crime,” Ella managed, her voice strained.
“Not Agent Thomas?” she replied in a taut voice.
“Looks like it,” she said, giving Justine directions to the site.
The trip took about twenty minutes, but neither of them spoke. As they walked down from the dirt road running west from the highway,
using their flashlights to guide the way, Ella could see Ralph Tache standing down the slope. His body was silhouetted by quick flashes of light as he took photos of the scene.
As they approached, he turned to them and gave them a quick nod. All expression was gone from his face, a sure sign that he was trying hard to keep it together. As Ella looked down at the body dressed in a short-sleeved
shirt and slacks, she suddenly understood why. He was chest down—facedown didn’t apply, not with the head gone. There was jagged tissue and dried blood and bone exposed where someone had sawed or hacked off his head. A strong wave of nausea washed over her.
“Has the ME been called?”
He nodded, then handed her a clear plastic bag containing an opened wallet. She could see the gold badge and the
young red-haired agent’s photo ID.
Ella’s gaze remained on the photo of Andrew L. Thomas. The hope she’d felt just a half hour ago crumbled into sharp splinters that, like glass, cut into her insides filling her with pain, sorrow, and regret. Then, slowly, the part of her brain that never stopped questioning began to work overtime. Why decapitate him and take his hands supposedly so he couldn’t
be identified, yet leave his wallet, photo ID, and badge? Something wasn’t right.
“Anything else in his pockets?” Ella asked Tache.
“All I pulled out was the wallet. Once the ME gets here we can move the body and see if something’s beneath it … him.”
“The body belongs to a redheaded man, judging from the hair on his arms,” Justine commented softly.
“I know, but it still isn’t adding up right.
Somehow, we need to start seeing what’s going on through the eyes of the perp. That’s the only way we’ll find the pattern,” she said softly.
“It could be that they want us to suspect a deception and cling to the hope that this isn’t really Agent Thomas, so we’ll stay focused on the search instead of going all out to find them,” Justine said. “But, to me, it looks like it’s over.”
“Maybe they
dumped him in one of the mines, came back to make sure he was dead, found him alive, then finished him off. But he wasn’t killed or dismembered here, or there would have been a lot more blood,” Tache said.
“Let’s get some more lights and process the scene very
carefully,” Ella said. “They might have left more behind than they intended.” Dividing the scene into sections, Ella helped put up floodlights,
then searched for evidence with Justine while Tache continued taking photos.
Carolyn Roanhorse-Lavery, the only medical examiner operating outside the state Office of the Medical Investigator because of the Navajo’s cultural traditions involving death, arrived a short time later. Giving Ella a nod, she crouched beside the body. “There’s not enough blood, barely any at all, considering what’s
missing, so this isn’t the primary crime scene. Whoever removed the head and hands used a sharp power saw, judging from the clean cuts across bone. Like a butcher. And the victim wasn’t dismembered until long
after
he died.”
“I need a positive ID as soon as you can get it to me,” Ella said, then left Carolyn to her work, and joined Justine. “We need to expand our search perimeter. Maybe the spot
where he was actually killed is around here.”
“There are vehicle tracks over there,” Justine said, pointing to her right, “about twenty yards from where the body was. That’s how they transported him here. But the footprints were rubbed out, and there are no drag marks. Probably two or more people, or one very strong guy hauled the body out of the vehicle, carried him over here, then just dumped
him.”
Ella and Justine combed the area, but there was no sign of the missing body parts. After a half hour they were forced to conclude that the original theory had been right and John Doe’s body had simply been left there.
Seeing the ME bringing out the body bag, and noting that Tache was putting distance between them, and Justine was busy scouring the ground, Ella went down into the arroyo
to help her. But lifting the heavy body out of the low spot ended up requiring everyone’s help, and Carolyn was forced to enlist them all. Working together, the SI team got the body onto a stretcher and carried it out of the arroyo and back to the van.
“I’ll start on this as soon as I get back,” Carolyn assured Ella while the other officers got back to work. “All I can tell you at this
point
is that the body belongs to someone who’s been dead at least a day or two, maybe longer. Based upon the relative absence of flies and other carrion feeders, it has only been at this location a few hours. I’ll have something more conclusive once I run tests, but it’ll be closer to morning by the time I’ve got a preliminary report. You want me to fax it to your home or to the office?”
“Both. That
way I’ll be sure to get it. I probably won’t be catching much sleep tonight, not after seeing this,” she said, cocking her head toward the bag.
As she slammed the van doors shut, Ella’s old friend looked back at her. “You better figure out a way to unwind or you won’t be any good to anyone.”
Ella nodded but didn’t answer.
As the ME’s body bus disappeared from view, Ella joined Tache and Justine
and continued searching the area. The lights, placed in key locations for maximum illumination, helped, but the perimeter was sizable, particularly now that they’d decided to expand their search. Ella took a flashlight and tried for the second time to find footprints, but it was fruitless.
“There was a pretty good cleanup crew at work here,” Justine said, looking up. “Even some of the vehicle
tracks are brushed out, probably because a footprint was over them.”
“They didn’t want to be found, and made sure nothing remained that would help us to do that,” Ella said.
“All that stealth, yet they dump the body here, not fifty feet from the road, where it could be seen easily,” Justine said. “It makes no sense … unless it was to make an example of the victim.”
“You mean to let everyone
know that they’ll kill whoever threatens their operation?” Tache asked, and saw Justine nod. “Or maybe it’s one of our own people who’s trying to warn Anglos away from our ceremonies.”