Bad Medicine (4 page)

“All right.”

“Something’s bugging you, Ella.” Blalock observed. “You usually argue more and take a few potshots. What are you holding back?”

“Just a feeling,” she answered. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

Ella waited for
Blalock to sign the protocol releasing the bat to her department before leaving. Since the evidence had already been taken in, she made arrangements for Justine to pick it up at the Farmington station.

As Ella drove back to the reservation, her stomach felt tied up in knots. Nothing was making a great deal of sense to her right now. First, the murder of a Navajo rights activist, and next, the
same day and not ten miles away as the crow flies, a young woman had taken leave of her senses
and
the highway.

Now, to top everything else off, they’d taken in a suspect to the murder and learned he was a white supremacist who currently worked at the Navajo mine. The whole thing made her skin crawl.

As she sped down the highway toward the recently expanded Shiprock Medical Center, Ella found
herself looking forward to seeing Carolyn Roanhorse and hearing someone start making sense of this situation.

She trusted Carolyn implicitly. In the beginning they’d been drawn together mostly because they were both outcasts. Carolyn had become a pariah because she was a Navajo working with the dead, and Ella was a woman in male-dominated law enforcement. It didn’t help either that Ella had spent
years off the rez in the FBI, and lost the trust of many she once knew.

Over the past year or so they’d become good friends, though they still usually saw each other mostly in the course of police business.

As her call sign came over the air, she picked up the mike. It was Justine.

“I’m on my way to Farmington now. What’s your ‘twenty’?” Justine asked, using the code for a location.

“I’m on
my way to the morgue. Whatcha need?”

“We’ve been trying to notify the Yellowhair family. But with the state legislature not in session, the senator’s not keeping office hours, and his wife’s not home. Their neighbor suggested we talk to your mom.”

“I don’t get it. How come?”

“The senator and his wife are members of the church where your father used to preach, though he doesn’t attend regularly.”

Ella felt a cold hand squeezing her heart. More connections leading everywhere, yet nowhere. “I’ll swing by my mother’s home and see if she has any ideas before I meet the M.E. Anything new on the evidence processed from the crime scene?”

“Not yet. But by the time you come in, we may have something. And I’ll go over that bat the minute I get it back to the lab.”

“Good. Once the news is out about
the accident, I’m going to be on the hot seat because of my report. If I have an open murder case on my hands at the same time, we’re all going to be sweating, from the chief on down. Keep working.”

“Ten-four.”

Ella gazed at Ship Rock—standing like a distant sentinel about a dozen miles southwest of the town named after it—thinking about her father. He had been dead eighteen months, and his
killers had been caught and punished, but the memory of his loss still filled her with intense grief. Such a brutal, senseless death.

It was even worse for her mother. Ella could still hear her pacing the house at night, as if searching for the companion she’d known for a lifetime. Her heart twisted inside. So much pain, and so many dead because of beliefs as old as the
Dineh
themselves.

But
right now Ella’s focus had to be on the cases before her. She thought of Bitah, and then Angelina Yellowhair. Both those deaths had been just as senseless as her father’s, in their own ways, and the questions about them needed to be answered.

Ella drove up the bumpy dirt track that led to her mother’s home where Ella had lived ever since her return to the reservation. Her mother and she were
both alone, both widowed, and living together had given each of them much needed companionship.

She parked near the side of the house and saw her mother, Rose, out back by the clothesline, hanging out laundry. Dog Two, or “Two” for short, lay nearby. Dog, her mother’s old companion, had finally died of old age six months ago. Dog Two, another mutt, had wandered onto their porch one cold November
evening, and had been around ever since.

Hearing the car, Rose turned her head and waved. Finishing with the laundry, she went to meet her daughter, Two at her side. “Is something wrong? You’re home early.”

“There was a car accident,” Ella answered. “I was hoping you could tell me where to find Senator Yellowhair, or his wife.”

“Their daughter?” Rose spoke in scarcely a whisper, avoiding the
name.

Ella nodded. “She’s dead. Just ran off the road.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Was she drinking or something? Her aunt said she has been pretty wild nowadays.”

“We’re looking into that now, but we need to contact her parents. One of the neighbors suggested that you might be able to give us an idea of where to find them.”

“Why? I used to see the senator’s wife when she went to your father’s
church, but I don’t go there anymore. Since your father’s death, I haven’t seen any of them except at the post office or grocery store. I could ask around, though. I heard someone mention at my weaver’s association meeting that the family was going down to Fort Defiance to visit relatives, and that the senator would be stopping by Window Rock to give some speeches. But that was two weeks ago. They
may be back, I don’t know. Doesn’t he have an office you can call?”

“Yes, but he’s not keeping regular hours right now. But thanks for the suggestion, I’ll check it out. Meanwhile, I better get back to work.” As Ella headed back to the car, Rose called out to her.

“I just remembered something. Have you tried going to the church? I understand they’ve been getting some blankets and coats together
to send out to the
Dineh
who live over by Mexican Hat. If the senator’s family is back, his wife might be over there.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll have someone check it out.”

As she drove back out onto the highway, Ella contacted Justine on the radio. She relayed what she’d learned then asked her to pay a call to the church and see if anyone had seen Mrs. Yellowhair. “If you need me, I’ll be at Carolyn’s.”
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she needed food, and soon. “I’ll go ten-sixty-one there,” she added, informing Justine she’d be stopping for something to eat.

“Ten-four.”

As Ella stepped out of the hospital basement stairwell, she felt that peculiar coldness that was always present in the morgue and had nothing to do with the temperature. She wasn’t sure how Carolyn stood it, though
she knew that the reason her friend worked here was because this was where the tribe needed her most.

As she walked down the short hallway, she felt a shudder run up her spine. A sudden flashback to the day she’d come to see her father’s body left her feeling weak at the knees. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and touched the badger fetish around her neck. There was nothing she could
do to change what had been. She had other duties now.

As she reached the outer office she could hear Carolyn’s monotone voice as she spoke into a tape recorder inside the autopsy suite. Through the glass that separated them, Ella could see her friend’s back and a corpse’s foot and toe tag. Three stainless steel tables stood empty, but trays filled with surgical equipment surrounded the M.E.

The smell of disinfectant made Ella feel a little sick to her stomach. She leaned back against the wall for a moment. Suddenly a stocky young man wearing a blue vinyl apron over scrubs rushed out of the autopsy suite, looking pale in the bright lights.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, after nearly running over her. As his gaze dropped down to her belt and he saw her badge, he gave her a
thin smile. “Oops. Sorry. Dr. Roanhorse told me to expect a visit from the police.”

“I haven’t seen you here before. Who are you?” Ella asked, looking at the young Navajo with surprise.

“I’m Howard Lee, Dr. Roanhorse’s assistant. I’m the med student assigned to work with her this semester.”

Ella nodded. That explained it. Carolyn’s job didn’t attract volunteers. “Could you tell her I’m here?”

“I already know,” Carolyn yelled out, reaching up to turn off the tape recorder’s mike. “Come in.”

“I’d rather not,” Ella answered.

“Don’t be such a wuss. You’re a cop.”

The barb stung, just as Carolyn had intended it to. Ella took a deep breath, then forced herself to enter the room. The body was half-covered with a sheet. Lines marking where the incisions would be made were clearly delineated
on the skull and torso. Ella swallowed the bile rising at the back of her throat.

Carolyn turned around, bloody gloves held high and away from her body. “Hey, I was wondering when you’d come. You’re just in the nick of time.”

“For what?”

“Can you reach that drawer and get the peanut butter cup in there? I’m hungry, but I’ll need you to feed it to me. I can’t get it near the body or touch it
with these gloves.”

Ella did as she asked, wondering if this was legit or just one of Carolyn’s pranks meant to make her squirm. Either way, she wouldn’t balk.

Ella held the candy out as Carolyn leaned forward and took a bite. “How can you eat this now?” Ella said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

“Why not? It’s not as if I have to share,” she said, pointing to the body, “and I missed lunch.”

Ella’s gaze strayed past Carolyn to the face of the body on the table. It was Angelina Yellowhair. She fought the sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach. “What caused the convulsions? Was she ill?”

“I don’t know yet, but I will soon. If you rule out drugs or poison, which of course I can’t do until the tests are run, your description makes me think she may have had a stroke or a heart attack.
But neither of those is consistent with the other evidence. People who are in the midst of a heart attack, or even a stroke, usually have enough presence of mind to slow down. Of course there are always exceptions, but the percentages bear me out.”

Ella nodded. “Epilepsy?”

Carolyn took another bite of the candy bar, then swallowed. “There’s no record of that in her medical history. I know her
doctor. He’s right upstairs. He said that she was in perfect health.”

Carolyn was just finishing the last bite of candy when the med student came back into the room. He strode in confidently, and despite the fact that he was wearing a wide, gold wedding band, gave Ella a bold once over as if they were in a single’s bar instead of a morgue. Then he turned to Carolyn. “Doctor, I’ve logged the blood
samples and the other fluids.” He looked at the body, trying to act casual, but his face turned a shade lighter.

Ella knew immediately that, despite his training, he was no seasoned morgue veteran. He was reacting to the body with the distaste most Navajos showed a corpse. When she glanced at Carolyn, and saw the gleam in her eyes, her heart went out to Howard Lee. If her guess was right, Carolyn
was about to have some fun at the young man’s expense.

Ella cleared her throat. “I was hoping to talk you into taking some time off and going out for lunch with me, upstairs, outside, anywhere but here.” She needed to talk to her friend, but she wouldn’t ask specifically. It wouldn’t have been a fair request. What had allowed their friendship to blossom was their mutual understanding of each
other. To both Carolyn and her, work always came first.

“Give me a few more minutes,” Carolyn said. “Howard and I have a few more things to do here.”

Ella braced herself when the high-pitched whine of a bone saw filled the room. Then she heard a sucking noise as the body was cut open. She would have run out of the room right there and then, but she was afraid that if she moved, her legs would
buckle and she’d fall on her face. Ella leaned back against the cold wall, closed her eyes, and took a breath. The smell of death filled her nostrils, and she felt her empty stomach churning and bile rising again to the back of her throat.

Hearing a sound she could only describe as that of a runner wearing water-soaked shoes, she opened her eyes and saw Carolyn removing something large and reddish
brown from the body. Ella rushed out of the room, knowing she’d have to put up with Carolyn calling her a wuss for the next several months.

“Hang on. We’ll have lunch in a bit,” Carolyn called out to her cheerily. “I just want to show my assistant one more thing.”

Ella heard a drill, then a crunching sound that made her skin crawl. The next instant, she saw Howard Lee running from the room,
one hand held over his mouth.

Carolyn looked up at Ella and smiled. “Oh good. You’re still here.
Now,
we can leave. I have a valid reason for taking a break from the autopsy because my student’s indisposed. He’s an arrogant little twerp. He should be used to viewing autopsies by now. This certainly wasn’t his first.”

“The body is of a young Navajo woman. Could be it reminds him of his wife,”
Ella suggested. She knew how viewing a loved one here had affected her.

“I suppose. But he’s been so annoying today, I couldn’t resist pushing him a little. Ready for lunch?”

Ella stared at her friend. “You’re positively amazing.”

Carolyn peeled off her gloves and tossed them into the trash can used for biohazards. “Give me a second to wash up. Since you had to wait, I’ll treat you to lunch
upstairs. I hear the special in the cafeteria today is liver and onions.”

Ella swallowed convulsively, recalling the reddish organ Carolyn had lifted from Angelina Yellowhair’s body. She wouldn’t break. Carolyn was goading her on purpose. That black sense of humor was one way Carolyn stayed sane. “If you can gag it down, Doc, so can I.”

THREE

Ella left the hospital still feeling queasy, despite the fact Carolyn had only been teasing about the liver and onions. Though, admittedly, Carolyn hadn’t had much information to give her yet on either case, at least she’d spent time decompressing in the company of a good friend. Carolyn’s macabre humor didn’t endear her to many, but then again, nothing Carolyn could ever do was about to
change her outcast status on the Rez.