Wind Spirit [Ella Clah 10] (18 page)

It had seemed like a good tactic, but as she saw his expression change, she suddenly realized that she’d made a huge mistake.

“Death follows you and that’s what you’ll bring to my son,” he said coldly. “Get off my land.”

“If you truly believe that death follows me, then your son would be better off if he turns himself in quickly to another officer before
I
find him,” Ella said.

He gazed at her for several moments, then spoke in a clear, steady voice. “I don’t think you even realize the danger you pose. You’re like the
bilagáanas
, the whites, who judge everything and understand nothing.”

Ella wanted to counter his accusations by naming all the things she’d done to protect the
Dineh
and to keep everyone on the Navajo Nation safe, but it was obvious Mr. Benally had already made up his mind about her. “I
will
get a Sing done as soon as someone finds the
hataalii
,” she said, then got angry with herself for explaining that to him. She was a Tribal Police officer. She deserved his respect on that basis alone. Yet, even as the thought formed, she realized that respect went both ways. The man was just scared.

As he walked away and went inside the hogan, Ella remained where she was. “Go talk to him, Justine. See if he’ll tell you where his son is. I have a feeling he knows, but if I go after him I’ll just make things worse.”

Justine returned to the unit about ten minutes later. “You were right not to get any closer to him. The only reason he invited me inside was because you weren’t there, and because I’m wearing a
jish
, a medicine bundle out of respect for traditionalist beliefs. I guess the one you still have on your belt isn’t enough for him.”

“Did he tell you where Cardell is?”

Justine shook her head. “All he told me is that if his son wanted to avoid us, he’d go someplace away from town where he could think. He grew up hunting and fishing and can take care of himself for as long as necessary.”

“We could get the word out to trading post owners all
across the Rez, but there’s a good chance not all of them will cooperate,” Ella said. “Cardell’s going to have a lot of support, particularly in the more remote areas where traditionalists live. They think of the department as a
bilagáana
invention already. It’s no secret that they liked things a lot better when the tribe handled their own problems through small councils and local chiefs. And if he’s getting help from his brother-in-law, Lewis Hunt, he’s probably been well funded and supplied.”

“So what do you propose?” Justine asked.

“Besides notifying the officers on patrol, we should get in touch with the tribal forestry department and those who work for the tribal sawmill. They’re more likely to come across a camper anyway, and as modernists by and large, they’ll be more inclined to help us.”

“Okay, I’ll get the ball rolling,” she said, picking up the mike. “Where to now?”

“Head for the tribal offices back in Shiprock. We’re going to track down Lewis Hunt and pay him a visit.”

As they got under way Justine put in a call to dispatch, and had their request relayed to the appropriate agencies. By the time they arrived at the tribal offices, what promised to be a long process had already been put into motion.

Ella led the way inside, and before long they found Lewis Hunt’s office. Ella knocked on the open door as she walked in, and a harried Navajo woman in her early twenties glanced up. “May I help you?” she asked.

“We’re here to see Mr. Hunt,” Ella said and flashed her badge.

“He’s in a meeting right now, but I expect he’ll be out shortly. Would you like to wait?”

Ella nodded. “Sure. In the meantime, will you check to see if Councilman Hunt had anything on his calendar for early this morning, say between six-thirty and seven-thirty?”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure I should answer questions like that without specific permission . . .”

“You can answer her,” a man’s voice came from the doorway.

Ella turned her head and saw Lewis Hunt enter the room. “I understand that the police have been looking for my brother-in-law because they think he’s guilty of setting the fire that burned down George Branch’s home. But, for the record, that’s nothing short of preposterous. His pickup and my wife’s car were both parked in the driveway of the house I’m now using and were stolen sometime during the night a few days ago. We never reported it because we’ve been too busy, and frankly, we knew that the police’s track record for finding stolen vehicles is dismal.”

Ella was about to defend the police department, but then realized he was trying to put her on the defensive so he could slip a really lame alibi past her. “Come on, you expect me to believe you had
two
vehicles stolen and didn’t report it?” she demanded, staying on track.

He didn’t even change his expression. Here in his office Lewis Hunt projected complete confidence. She had a feeling that nothing she could do would ever put a dent in that armor.

“What I can’t understand is why you asked about my schedule and activities? Am I under suspicion as well?” Hunt folded his arms across his chest.

“There
were
two men involved in the incident,” Ella said, fully aware that she had no way of proving that the two perps had been men.

“Your wording suggests that you don’t know
which
two men, so you’re obviously still fishing for information. Well, you can scratch me off your short list, if you have one already. This morning at seven my administrative assistant and I were working together, getting my notes ready before I met with
an aide to the Secretary of the Interior. I’ve been lobbying for matching funds so we can update some of the equipment at our Navajo sawmill.”

Ella glanced at his assistant, who nodded eagerly but failed to make direct eye contact with her. Instead, her gaze quickly shifted to Hunt, who smiled at her. The exchange made Ella suspect that Hunt’s assistant would have verified that they’d just returned from Jupiter on a moonbeam had he asked.

“Can you tell me where we can find your brother-in-law?” Ella asked.

“Cardell? I haven’t got the remotest idea, but you better have solid evidence and a very credible witness if you plan on arresting him. I won’t have a member of my family railroaded simply because you need to close at least one of the cases you’re working on.”

“We close almost every case that crosses our desks,” Ella said, then bit her tongue. She was letting him bait her and that just wasn’t going to cut it. “Your brother-in-law needs to answer a few questions. If you see him, advise him to come to the station for an interview. Going into hiding isn’t going to erase his name from the list of possible suspects.”

“
Into hiding
? He’s probably just gone off somewhere where he can be by himself to mourn his sister’s passing in private. And he’s certainly entitled. Using innuendo and loaded terms to pressure me just won’t work. And, to be honest, I doubt you’ll find much support for those tactics anywhere else on our Navajo Nation either. I’m going to be watching you very carefully, Investigator Clah, and I won’t rest until everyone behind the death of my wife is brought to justice.”

Ella nodded once, then looked at Justine and gestured to the door. “I hate politicians,” she muttered as they walked out of the building. “And I hate lawyers who become politicians.”

“I wouldn’t say that around Dawn, if I were you,” Justine teased, reminding her that the father of her child was both.

Ella smiled. “Kevin’s different. He’s in a league all his own. I’m not exactly his number one fan, mind you, especially when it comes to politics, but Hunt makes my skin crawl. The way he handled my questions back there tells me that he’s very used to distorting the facts and even the law for his own purposes. I find that offensive on principle. And how he’s calling for justice, as if the death of Smiley, the man who set the fire, wasn’t enough. Come to think of it, he’s probably not terribly unhappy about what happened to Branch.”

“He had a hand in what happened to Branch’s house, I’d bet on it,” Justine said.

As their call number came over the radio, Ella picked up the mike and identified herself.

“We have a 20 on Cardell Benally,” the dispatcher said, using the shortened term for a 10-20, which meant location. “One of our officers who was off-duty and at Navajo Lake yesterday afternoon says that he saw Benally there in a campsite area just above the dam. Once the officer began his shift today, he heard you were looking for Benally and told his duty officer to pass the word along.”

After getting a good description of the actual location where Benally had been, Ella racked the mike. “I think we better bring in Lucas Payestewa. His office is closest to Navajo Lake, and if we have to go onto state park land, county, or any of the local communities he’ll still have jurisdiction.” Ella dialed up the FBI resident agent’s number in Farmington and got him on the second ring.

She explained what she needed quickly. “Can you meet us at the Pine River Recreation area just north of the dam? Officer Goodluck and I need to question campers in that area. We’re trying to find a suspect in an arson case, but Pine River is out of our jurisdiction.”

“You’ve got it.”

Ella and Justine met with the FBI agent about an hour later at the camping area where Benally had last been seen. “If we can split up, it’ll save us some time,” she said, explaining that they were trying to track down Benally, and why. “If anyone spoke to him, or saw him, maybe they’ll have an idea of where he’ll be headed next.”

“We can give it our best shot, but my guess is that Benally won’t be in any one place long. He’s probably moved on to another location, and I doubt he chatted with anyone and told them where he was going,” Lucas answered.

“Yeah, probably, but for now, this is all I’ve got.”

They searched the campsite first, which was not occupied at the moment, but found nothing to suggest where he’d been heading to next. The campers questioned didn’t remember seeing anyone who fit Cardell’s description.

“Cardell was a cop. If he doesn’t want to be found, he’s going to be careful,” Justine said.

Studying the ground, Ella discovered the direction the last two vehicles parked at that particular site had taken when they’d driven away. “If either of these tire tracks belong to Cardell’s truck, he’s heading toward Bloomfield. That means we’ve lost him, unless he stopped at one of the businesses along the way and left us a clue we can follow next.”

“That’s doubtful,” Lucas said, coming over to check the tracks and walking with Ella at his side.

As they searched, Lucas glanced over at her. “By the way, I’ve been relocated to another Bureau office,” Lucas said.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“Thanks. I expect you’re in for a whole new experience with my replacement. I hear he’s still wet behind the ears.”

“Rookie, huh? Well, we all have to start somewhere,” Ella said with a shrug, “but thanks for the heads-up.”

“It’ll be interesting to see how Blalock handles him. Blalock’s been thinking about retirement, so the last thing he
needs is trouble. But if this guy screws up, it’ll come right back at FB-Eyes.”

Ella nodded, then focusing back on the business at hand, added, “We better split up again and visit some of the other campsites around the lake and talk to a few more campers, just in case Benally circled around south and drove up the eastern side.”

Ella and Justine worked together and eventually found a fisherman who’d seen an Indian man matching Cardell Benally’s description. He pointed toward another camping area farther down the small ridge that extended out into the lake about a half mile like a peninsula. “Hmm. He’s gone now.”

“How long ago was that?” Ella and Justine asked at the same time.

“I can’t rightly say, Officers. I was out in my boat earlier when I saw him packing up his gear. Then another Indian family came up. Last time I looked over they were standing around talking, but I never saw when he left. That was around two hours ago, maybe less. The family set up their own camp, it looks like.” He pointed in that direction and they could see a small ribbon of smoke rising a short distance away.

“We’re going to have to work a little faster if we want to catch up to him,” Ella said, glancing skyward at the cumulonimbus clouds starting to build over the mountains. “It might start to rain, and if that happens, it’ll drive everybody into shelter and we’ll have to start knocking on tent flaps and camper doors.”

“Never thought a native New Mexican would want it
not
to rain,” Justine teased as they walked back to the vehicle.

Ten minutes later they arrived at the location the fisherman had pointed out to them. Ella and Justine saw an old wall tent, like the kind sheepherders often used, pitched down by the lake. A green pickup was parked beside it and
on the bumper were several stickers for the Shiprock Lady Chieftains basketball team. The license plate was for San Juan County.

Justine pulled to a stop, seeing a Navajo woman beside a campfire cooking something that smelled like fry bread in a large Dutch oven. She was wearing a traditional-looking long skirt and cotton blouse. “We should wait in the vehicle even if this is only a campsite,” Ella said.

The woman, in her fifties, turned around and looked in their direction, but didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, she went into the tent and brought out a blanket to air out, draping it over a rope tied between two trees. Then, without looking at either of them, went back to cooking the fry bread.