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Authors: David Thurlo

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BOOK: Black Thunder
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He shook his head. “We
are
friends, but riding with you after working a case will bring back too many memories for me. It’ll make me think of what might have been, instead of
what is.”

Ella nodded and didn’t comment. Although what he’d said was true, it saddened her to acknowledge that part of her life was over.

Once back at camp, Ella checked their vehicles, making sure nothing had been tampered with and everything was as they’d left it. She then helped the others take down and stow away the tents. In five minutes they were finished.

“Time to roll,” Blalock said.
“We’ve got everyone looking for Romero and when he surfaces we’ll know—day or night.”

“Let’s meet in the morning at the station and see where we’re at then. Say nine-thirty or a quarter to ten?” Ella suggested. “That’ll give us a few hours of sack time.”

“Done.”

As Blalock walked off to join Joe and Ford, Ella’s gaze shifted to Ford and remained on him a moment longer.

“You ready to leave?”
Justine asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Ella nodded. Ford was right. Even though it hurt like crazy, it was time for both of them to move on.

TWENTY-TWO

Ella was up at nine. It was Monday, and her thoughts were on Dawn, so she couldn’t sleep any longer. According to Rose, who’d woken up and met her in the kitchen when she’d returned home, Dawn had been studying hard for her remaining finals. Hearing that her kid was finally back on the right track had helped her get a few hours of sleep.

Kevin had also left voice mail, assuring her
that Leonard wouldn’t get anywhere near Dawn again. The high-school boy, it seemed, had already moved on to another girl closer to his age. Perhaps, Kevin joked, it was the in-his-face reminder that Dawn had a protective mother who carried a pistol and had already proved she could track him down.

As Ella poured herself some coffee, she couldn’t help but notice that her mother was in a far better
frame of mind than she’d been in weeks.

“Your daughter finished her term paper, and seemed in a good mood when my husband drove her to the bus stop. I’ll be gone most of the morning,” Rose said. “I’m meeting the artist for coffee at her home.”

It took Ella a minute to figure out who her mother was talking about. “You mean FB-Eyes’ wife?”

Rose nodded. “I called to tell her how much I loved her
painting and one thing led to another. Now we’re getting together to talk about presentations we’d like to give at the schools this coming fall. We could teach kids about native plants, particularly the rare varieties. She’d do watercolor representations based on my photos and descriptions, and I’d tell the kids about their uses.”

“That’s a terrific idea, Mom. It works for everyone, particularly
the children. They need to know as much as possible about their culture—and nature.”

“Her idea helped me remember one of the most important lessons the Plant People teach us. Nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much we may want that. Those who can’t embrace the new get left behind.”

Aware that at long last Rose was confiding in her, Ella said nothing, afraid to ruin the moment.

“My life
has always been filled with purpose. I was needed here at home and my work with plants was important to the tribe. Then one morning I looked around and everything had changed. My job was gone and my granddaughter didn’t need me anymore. You had your own life and my husband spent most of his free time working in the garage. No one seemed to value what I had to offer anymore and that made me feel
useless.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Finding a new direction, one that would fit me as well as the old one did, hasn’t been easy.”

Ella gave Rose a hug. “I need you, Mom, and so does your husband. My daughter does, too, though I realize that at the moment she wants to think she doesn’t need anyone at all.”

“You were that way, too, at her age,” Rose said. She smiled, then
stood and walked over to pour herself another cup of coffee. “It’ll make you crazy now, but when time passes, and it will, you’ll find you miss these days more than you can imagine.”

Before Ella could say anything, she heard Justine’s honk. “I’ve got to go, Mom. We all got to sleep in a little this morning, but now I have a meeting.”

“Take care of yourself, Daughter.”

“You, too, Mom.”

At the
station, twenty minutes later, Ella entered her office and saw that the rest of team, including Blalock, were already there.

Ella took a seat, and as she did, Dan appeared at her door, visitor’s tag around his neck.

“I came to get an update on last night,” he said, nodding to the other seated officers.

“Perfect timing,” she said, waving him to the only empty chair.

Ella briefed Dan and Benny
on the attempt to bring in Romero the night before, then gave Benny a nod. “Tell us about the female vic.”

“I’ve narrowed the possibilities down to two women. One was unmarried and living with her mother, but I haven’t been able to contact anyone at that house. The other lived alone. I tried to track down members of her family, but haven’t had any luck so far. I thought I’d start knocking on
doors this morning.”

“What about the vehicles that belonged to the missing women? Were those ever found?” Justine asked.

“One was left at the Farmington bus station. The other never turned up, or if it did, it’s not in the system.”

“Keep digging,” Ella said.

“I’ll be spearheading the search for Romero and coordinating the interdepartmental effort,” Blalock said. “I placed an alert with the
medical community last night, but no gunshot victims have turned up.”

“Here’s what I’d like to do,” Ella said, then looked at Dan. “Why don’t you and I pay Norman Ben another visit? I’m certain he knows more than he’s telling us.”

“Good idea,” Dan said.

They soon got underway in Detective Nez’s sheriff’s department vehicle, a similar model to her unmarked unit but in much better shape. It still
had that new-car smell, Ella noted with envy. Seated on the passenger side, she shifted to look at him. “I think we need to push Ben a lot harder—put him on the defensive and keep the pressure up.”

“If he’s involved, then the missing money’s the key,” Dan said. “In every hassle between business partners it’s always about the money.”

“I don’t think we’re going to get a simple answer on this one.
If Ben had been trying to get the stolen money back, he wouldn’t have killed the person he thought had it,” Ella replied.

“What if he’d already gotten the money back and has been covering so he doesn’t look guilty of murder? Or maybe he never borrowed the money at all—he stole it and killed his partner because he found out.”

“Then why turn around and hire Ross Harrison?” she countered.

“To
muddy up the trail? Naw, never mind. That theory just doesn’t fly,” Dan said. “Nothing adds up in this case.”

“That’s the biggest problem we’ve got. Answers seem to stay just out of our reach,” Ella said. “It would help if we had a motive, something besides random road rage.”

“This is a tough case, but you’ve got the worst of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The pressure’s constant at work, and for
you it doesn’t let up after hours.”

Ella looked at him, trying to figure out how much Dan knew about her. She had a hard time believing that Justine had spoken to him about Rose or Dawn.

“In case you’re wondering, I’ve gone out a few times with a woman from Reverend Tome’s church,” he said. “I understand you and he have been an item for months. Now the church is sending him to Arizona. Long-distance
relationships can be complicated.”

Ella didn’t answer right away. She usually didn’t talk about her personal life. Yet getting to know the ones who’d have your back was always a good idea and confidences generally worked both ways.

“He and I were close for a while, but it was a deep friendship, nothing more.”

He said nothing for several moments, then finally spoke. “He was in love with you,
but you just wanted friendship. Was that it?”

Dan was perceptive. Maybe that’s what made him such a good artist. “Pretty much,” she answered at last.

“That’s tough—on him for obvious reasons, and on you, too. You knew all along that once he realized the relationship had limits the connection would fade. I’ve been there.”

“Which side?”

“I had a very close friendship with a woman who wanted
more than that—a husband. It ended badly.”

“You miss her?”

“More than I expected—a lot more, actually. You know how closed cops are. When we find a friend outside work we can be open with, that means a lot.”

Ella nodded slowly. That was exactly how she felt about Ford. Losing him would hurt, and letting go wouldn’t be easy, but it was the right thing to do.

“If you ever need to just talk,
I’m a good listener,” Dan said, “and whatever you say will stay with me.”

The offer touched her. She didn’t think it would happen, but it was still good to know.

“We share the same duties, but not in the same department,” he added. “That’s what makes it workable. Friendship, I mean.”

Ella suddenly realized something else. The offer wasn’t altogether altruistic. Like many officers, he was lonely.

“I hear you,” she said, not committing to anything.

They arrived at Norman Ben’s east Farmington business—Thunderbird Construction—about twenty-five minutes later.

Having seen them pull up and park in the open parking slot just outside his front door, Norman stepped out to greet them. “Come in and have a seat.” He waved his hand toward two chairs along the wall. “Business is at a standstill
these days, as you can see from all the empty parking slots and for-rent signs in the windows. I stick around the office, hoping something will come in, but time can sure drag. I spend most of my time making cold calls, which I hate. If this economy doesn’t pick up soon, a lot more businesses are going to be history.”

“Do you have a backup plan?” Dan asked.

“Nah. Even if I wanted, I’m too broke
to start a new business and too old to retrain and get hired. I’ll stick it out and hope for things to turn around,” Norman said, taking a seat behind his desk.

“You’ve said that you’ve spent the past four years trying to find Johnson, is that correct?” Dan asked, getting down to business.

“Yeah, off and on. My slimeball partner took money I could have been using for advertising, promotion,
and a better location.”

“Taking your best guess, what do you think happened to that money?” Ella pressed.

“I’ve thought a lot about that. Elroy really wasn’t the kind to take the money and run. His attitude in business and life was that if something was wrong you fixed it, but you left what was working alone. Ross Harrison, the P.I., suggested Elroy might have taken our money to invest, hoping
for a quick score that could grow the company. Maybe Elroy lost his shirt on the deal and bailed rather than face up to me. Ross tried hard to track Elroy and the money. He got several leads, too, but in the end they all fizzled out.”

“What kind of information did Harrison actually turn up for you?” Dan asked. “Other than theories and speculation, that is.”

“For one, he was able to retrace Elroy’s
movements after he left this office the day he disappeared. Elroy had told me he was going to his lodge meeting, but I never could verify that. Those fraternal orders are closed to nonmembers. Harrison found a way around their rules and confirmed that Elroy had actually been there that day after work. There’d been nothing unusual about the way he acted then, according to members Harrison interviewed.
Elroy left later to pick up his jacket at the dry cleaners in Farmington. Before you ask—the jacket
was
picked up. After that, poof.”

“Which lodge are we talking about?” Dan asked him.

“The Hickory Lodge, originally formed by woodworkers and craftsmen, according to their pamphlets. It used to be some kind of guild, back in the seventeen-hundreds, but these days it’s a service organization. They
donate time to community building projects, and that kind of networking is good for drumming up business. I was up for membership, but I backed out. I’m not a joiner. When I finish for the day all I want is a cold one and a big-screen TV with every sports channel known to man.”

Ella made it a point not to glance down at his gut. A little community work might have done wonders for him.

“Do you
think you’ll ever find my money?” he asked.

“The money isn’t our priority,” Ella said, “but if it turns up during our investigation, we’ll let you know.”

As they walked back outside, Dan glanced at her. “You don’t like the guy, do you?”

“No. It’s his attitude,” she said as he switched on the ignition. “His partner may have taken some badly needed funds, but instead of sucking up the loss, Ben
spends even more on a P.I. He complains how poor he is, but instead of going out to job sites, builders, and whatnot hustling for business, he sits beneath an air conditioner while his company slowly tanks.”

“In situations like these, a lot of businessmen lose focus and let knee-jerk reactions overrule their common sense. It’s human nature to try and screw whoever screwed you.”

She nodded slowly.
“Not the best side of human nature but, yeah, good point.”

“I know where the Hickory Lodge is. Do you want to see if anyone’s there now?”

“Yeah. If they have any retired members, someone’s likely to be around. But having anyone remember who they saw four years ago … Our chances are slim.”

“Maybe not. I had a friend who was a member of one of these groups, and I went to a meeting with him once.
You have to sign in before you can go into the club section. Maybe they won’t mind giving us a look, particularly since we’re trying to find out what happened to one of their members.”

“Have you ever thought of joining one of these brotherhood lodges?” Ella asked him.

“No way. When I’m on my own time I don’t like being cooped up indoors—or in any kind of structured environment, for that matter.
I’m in a gun club, and a member of the police association, but that’s it. How about you? Some of these lodges have female branches.”

BOOK: Black Thunder
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