Blackening Song (33 page)

“Did Fire Hawk leave his wife?”

“No. Knowing the shame he’d brought on his family, Fire Hawk took his own life. Mist Eagle eventually gave birth to a girl child, but both she and the child were shunned. Sorrow was Mist Eagle’s constant companion. Alone, Mist Eagle learned
about herbs, and about healing. Skinwalkers sought her out—her crime, incest, was one they encouraged and frequently practiced. Mist Eagle was taught by them, and her powers grew, but she never truly became one of them. Then one day, she helped an old man who had gone to the desert to die. He was not a skinwalker. Word spread. Slowly, people began to seek her out in secret. It was said that she
could kill her enemies as easily as she could heal, and those who came took considerable risks in doing so. Mist Eagle taught her daughter all she knew, and finally died during a cold winter. Her daughter tried to use her knowledge and power only for good, but the darkness that shadowed her from the day of her birth eventually consumed her.”

“If this legacy was passed on, Mist Eagle’s daughter
must have had a child of her own.”

Rose nodded. “A girl, by her father’s brother. In each generation, the abilities each child received changed, becoming as individual as the people who bore them. Only one thing remained constant: the darkness and fear that came with the power. No matter how much good was accomplished, its evil roots were always there.”

“Have some in our family used these abilities
for harm?” Ella’s mind was already gauging the possibility that the attacks against her family and their goals were rooted in revenge.

“Not many, but enough so that members of our clan decided generations ago to always have two children; no more, no less. It was hoped that if the darkness seduced one, the other would fight to restore the balance. And that’s the way it’s been, as far back as anyone
remembers. The last time the darkness showed itself was with my great-grandfather. According to my mother, he killed his sister with an ax and then hung himself.” Rose paused, then continued. “I believe the evil we’ve controlled since then has finally risen to challenge us.”

That much made sense, particularly, Ella mused, if that evil was in the form of a man or a woman bent on revenge for some
real or imagined crime. She still didn’t believe the family “legacy” was real, but motivations rooted in religious beliefs could be deadly.

“But, you know, even those of our clan who were corrupted by the abilities they’d inherited, weren’t truly evil,” Rose added. “They simply failed to bring temptation under control, and allowed it to ruin their lives and those of the ones around them.”

“And
the children of those who failed? Did they also fail?”

“Some did; others didn’t. Each person makes their own choices,” Rose explained. “There’s something else you should know. The power, even within the same generation, is not given in equal measures. The women have always had greater power than the men.”

“Until now,” Ella protested. “Clifford can sway people with a few words. I’ve never been
able to match him in anything.”

Rose’s eyes found her daughter’s and held them. “I believe that your powers will someday exceed Clifford’s, though they will take a different direction.”

“Different how?”

“I can’t be more specific than that. You see, how much you accept, how much you choose to develop, isn’t foreordained. It’s up to you.”

Ella didn’t argue; she agreed, at least in part. Any
talent or gift needed to be developed. That’s what she’d done with her police instincts and training. Her effectiveness was a result of a concerted effort to use all the knowledge and intuition she possessed.

“Someone’s coming,” Rose said. At that instant, the dog rolled over and sniffed the air, ears erect and gaze focused.

Ella strained to see through the darkness. Finally a vague outline
appeared among the gray nighttime shadows. She automatically felt for her gun, then forced herself to relax. The man was on foot, coming from a direction that would have been impassable by truck or car. Only a member of Clifford’s family was likely to approach from the north. She glanced down and saw that Dog’s tail was up. No growl had escaped his throat.

“It’s Paul,” Rose said. “I recognize
the way he walks. He always looks like he’s lost something on the ground.”

Ella began to laugh. Her mother had just reminded her of the one thing she thought she’d never forget. Observation and patience were an investigator’s best allies. Many other things could help, but, without those, progress was often impossible.

Paul approached as Rose waved at him, inviting him up to the porch. Paul’s
downcast expression represented utter defeat, and Ella held her breath, fearing bad news.

“May I come inside?” he asked.

Ella noted the jagged cut that crisscrossed his arm. Blood had caked over it, but it still looked raw and painful. “What happened to you?” she asked quickly as they stepped toward the door.

“I’ve let my family down.”

Rose gave Ella a look of alarm, but her voice was gentle
and soothing. “Come inside. Let me take care of that cut.”

Paul shuffled across the living room. The wound wasn’t deep, but he looked like a man who was dead inside.

Ella felt the icy grip of fear spreading through her, and her throat went dry. Paul sat at the kitchen table, staring at Rose as she cleaned the wound on his arm. His silence seemed to stretch endlessly.

Finally he reached into
his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had been meticulously folded. Paul handed the note to Ella while Rose, at the sink, prepared one of her herb poultices.

Ella opened the note and studied the odd writing while holding the pages only by the edges. Each letter looked like a child’s scrawl formed with a turkey quill. Yet the runny, red liquid was no ordinary ink. The message, she suspected,
was written in blood.

As she began to comprehend the note’s contents, Ella turned so her mother couldn’t see the words.

“Wait.” Rose placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder and drew her back around. Rose read the note at a glance, then took a stumbling step backward, falling hard into the chair. “No,” she whispered.

Ella took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll handle this. It’ll be all
right.”

“But … they have Loretta.”

Ella glanced at the note again. The message was succinct. It read, “If Clifford does the Sing, his wife dies.” She met Paul’s gaze. “Who delivered this and when?” she asked in a crisp, confident style. She had to break through the barrier created by shock and restore hope.

“I don’t know who, but it happened about an hour ago.”

“Tell me everything,” Ella said,
sitting across the table from him.

“I heard Clifford—I was sure it was him, calling from the bushes behind the house. I thought he was afraid to come into the open, or that he didn’t want Loretta to see him and get upset. I went outside to meet him, but the voice seemed to be coming from farther away than I originally thought. I walked toward the sound, toward a stand of junipers, and caught
a glimpse of the one calling me. He was taller than Clifford, and heavier-set. I realized that it was a trick, so I ran back to the house as fast as I could. I’d only been away for a minute, but Loretta was gone. She’d been reading, and her book and glasses were on the floor. They also took my rifle.”

“What did you do then?”

“I ran outside; I was going to go after them. A dark pickup rushed
past, and someone threw a huge rock right at me. It almost hit my head, except I dodged at the last second. That’s when I cut my arm, on a broken-off tree branch. The note was attached to the rock.”

“After you read it, you came straight here?”

“Yeah, as fast as I could. I didn’t want to go to FB-Eyes. I don’t trust him.”

“We’ll have to go to him now. We have to get Loretta back. To do that,
we’re going to have to find out where she is, and that’ll take manpower.”

“Skinwalkers have my sister, and you want to go to an Anglo? He doesn’t know enough about us, or what we’re fighting.”

“That’s true, but we don’t have a choice. Whatever the motive, this is still a kidnapping, and that’s something the bureau trains its agents to handle,” Ella answered. “We have to find Loretta quickly.
The danger to her increases with every minute that passes.”

Paul nodded. “All right. What should I do?”

“Help me load something into my truck, then stay here while I talk to Blalock and try to get an operation going. In the meantime, I want you to visualize the man you saw. Did you recognize him? Try to remember his voice, or anything else that might help you identify him or the others. Then
try to think of where they might have taken Loretta.”

“I have no way of knowing all that! I barely saw the man who tricked me! You’re asking me to do the impossible!”

“
Think.
You said he was heavier than Clifford. How much heavier? Is there anyone you can think of who’s about the same size?”

“Samuel Pete, but it wasn’t him. I’m certain of it.”

“Why?”

“He moved like a younger man.”

“See that?
You do remember some things. Keep working on it.”

Ella quickly checked the contents of her equipment trunk. Everything seemed to be in order. Together she and Paul carried the trunk to the pickup.

Seeing the look on her mother’s face, Ella’s throat tightened. “I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, call Herman Cloud, or his son-in-law. Better yet, go see them.”

“No. Paul and I will watch out for
ourselves. And if we need help fast, I have the police dispatcher’s number.”

Recalling Peterson’s instructions to her mother, Ella nodded.

“We will be all right,” Rose answered. “You be careful.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Ella’s heart pounded as she drove way. She had to find her brother’s wife. First he’d lost his son, then his father. Now this. They wanted to bring him to his knees
and then destroy him. She wouldn’t allow that to happen.

One fact was very clear. The skinwalkers could only have found out about her brother’s plans to do a Sing if they’d had access to the listening device Blalock had planted. She’d have found a second bug. Blalock owed her big now, and she would get his cooperation if she had to wring it out of him.

Ella made the forty-minute drive to the
station in less than thirty. As she pulled into the police station’s parking lot, she saw Blalock unlocking his car door. She screeched to a stop and saw him instinctively reach for his weapon.

“Don’t bother pulling your gun, just get in. You’re coming with me.”

“You have a death wish or something? I might have shot you!” he bellowed angrily.

“There’s no time for this. Get in.”

“What the hell’s
the matter with you?” he argued, getting inside the truck and slamming the door.

“You and I have to talk, so shut up and listen.”

She filled him in as she headed quickly down the highway. Spotting a dirt road ahead, she turned on to it and parked. Ella shifted in her seat to look at Blalock. “Who else knew about that listening device?”

“Only a handful of people—the receiver was inside my temporary
office at the police station.”

“Who?”

“The police chief, Yazzie, and the desk sergeant who mans the telephones.”

“That’s it?”

“I didn’t want the news to get out, and let’s face it, every clan has a bazillion cousins, nieces, and nephews. There are at least five other Clahs in the department.”

“Then someone monitored that conversation at the same time you did. That’s the only explanation.
Who heard that conversation, and, more important, who had the chance to leak the information to someone else?”

“A tip could have been passed at any time. Someone let your brother know we were coming.”

“No, there wasn’t enough time. The kidnappers went on the offensive just about the time you raided my mother’s place. They launched their attack while you were busy with us.”

Blalock’s face grew
hard and angry. “Then there’s a traitor at the tribal police department.”

“Which officers were in on the operation, and did anyone leave the room right after you decided to make the raid?” she asked insistently.

“The police chief was the only one who left. He’d brought us some of the assault gear.” Blalock paused. “Is it possible that someone else planted a bug in your house?”

She gave him
an incredulous look. “Get serious. I’ve searched, and besides, it’s far more likely they used yours.”

“Then the only suspect I can think of is your father-in-law.”

The information weighed heavily on her. Randall wasn’t very likable, but she would never have thought of him as an enemy. She shook her head in disbelief. There had to be another answer, an explanation Randall could give. But for
now, this was the only lead she had to pursue.

“What do you want me to do?” Blalock asked.

“I need your help, and you need mine. You don’t want news of this mess getting back to the bureau, and I want my sister-in-law back safely. If the police department can’t be trusted, then we have to rely on each other.”

“I have no idea where to begin searching. Unless you do, there’s nothing we can do
except go back to the station and round up as many men as we can, hoping the good ones will outweigh the bad. We can have a crime-scene unit go over to your brother’s house and see what they can find.”

“That will take too long. While we investigate, the kidnappers could easily kill Loretta.” She shook her head. “I have a better idea. If my father-in-law is involved, I have a few suggestions about
where we can start looking.” The thought made her sick inside.

“I’m listening.”

“He used to have a hogan near Wilson Joe’s place. I can’t remember exactly where; it was a long time ago. The family abandoned it after a relative died there one summer.”

“Let’s check it out.”

“First, let’s find out exactly where it is.” She drove to the public phone outside the gas station. She dialed Wilson’s
home number, and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him answer. “I need directions,” Ella said briskly, “but I don’t have time to explain why.”