Earthway (3 page)

The EMT was packing away his gear when Ella spotted FBI Special Agent Dwayne Blalock stepping out of his Bureau vehicle. On the Rez he was known as FB-Eyes because of the unusual color of his eyes—one blue, the other brown. Blalock was in good physical condition for a man in his early fifties. He’d mellowed
in temperament slightly over the years, but today his expression was grim.

She watched him study the crowd of students, faculty, and onlookers standing across the commons. A good agent, Blalock was hoping to recognize a face or even an expression that might lead him to the perp. Sometimes they stayed around to survey their work.

Ella heard a door slam, and turned around. Justine, Officer Marianna
Talk, and Sergeant Joseph Neskahi were unloading essential gear from the crime-scene van and putting
up the perimeter tape. Because of the nature of the incident, evidence would have scattered considerable distances, maybe across the sidewalk and onto the grounds. There were no windows in the lecture hall, but debris had blown out through the foyer and beyond. At least both doors had been open,
so the blast hadn’t been completely contained. That had saved her, and hopefully, Ralph.

Officers would be flagging every piece of debris—metal, plastic, and paper—to find the remnants of the bomb. Hopefully, they’d be able to reconstruct the device and find additional clues. From the looks of it, this wouldn’t be an easy job. They’d be here well into the evening.

Blalock walked up and gave
her a slow once-over. “You okay, Ella?”

“Yeah, except my ears are still ringing.”

“What’s the situation with Officer Tache?”

“Not good,” she said. Swallowing to keep her voice from breaking, she added, “He was alive when they took him away, but he’s lost a lot of blood, and there’s internal damage.”

“Ralph’s a tough old guy. If anyone can live through that, he will,” Blalock said. “You ready
to get to work?” He gestured toward the crowd. “I called in all the officers I could find, county deputies included, to keep all the potential witnesses on site until they’re interviewed. We also have explosive ordinance teams from other communities checking the campus for bombs. They’re going to tag each building after it’s cleared.”

“Good. Since that’s covered, let’s you and I start with the
students who showed up for the lecture,” Ella said. “It wasn’t a suicide attack, so the perp probably didn’t remain in the lecture hall after leaving the bomb. Maybe someone noticed a student or faculty member who left the building early.”

“Did you get a good look at the device, Ella?”

She described the bomb as well as she could remember. “It was in an ordinary-looking student backpack, nylon,
probably. Red and black. I didn’t notice the brand.”

“We’ll get that from the debris. Now let’s go round up some of our witnesses,” Blalock added, walking over to where the crowd had gathered behind the yellow-tape line. Three department officers and two deputies from the county sheriff’s office were keeping people from crossing into the crime scene.

“Excuse me, officers?” a voice called out
from behind them.

Ella turned and saw a Navajo man, about thirty-five years old, clad in gray overalls and wearing a tool belt. He was waving to get their attention. Recognizing his uniform and the logo of the college on his shirt pocket, Ella walked over to meet him.

“Are you with campus maintenance?” she asked, noting the electrical devices and rubber-handled tools at his waist.

“Yes, officer.
I’m Chester Tso, and my supervisor wants me to check out the wiring in Edmond Hall as soon as possible. Circuits were tripped in some of the other buildings, and we need to know if it’s safe to turn them back on. Computers are running on backup batteries right now and the staff’s worried about losing data, like grades and attendance records.”

“I can’t let you roam around in Edmond Hall right
now. The building is a crime scene,” Ella said.

“I understand, Officer. But if you’ll let me make a quick inspection, I can also make sure there aren’t any electrical hazards for your people. I could cap any potential live wires and maybe restore some of the lighting and power to some outlets. I won’t touch anything without permission. You can even send one of your people in with me,” Tso said.

Ella wrote a quick note, handed it to Tso, then pointed toward Joe Neskahi. “Give this to the sergeant. You’ve got
ten minutes, but don’t touch anything without clearing it with him first. Got it?”

The man nodded. “Thanks, Officer . . .”

“
Clah
.” Ella said, already turning toward Ford, who was standing in the distance behind Blalock, a myriad of questions on his face. She went to him.

He reached
out as if to hug her, then, instead, touched her lightly on the arm. “I’m glad you’re okay, Ella. How can I help?”

“You’ll have to make an official statement, but that can wait until later. Right now, could you gather everyone together who was there for the lecture? Each person will have to be interviewed.”

With Ford’s help, Ella and Blalock quickly recorded the names of all present, then split
the large group into two. Ella chose a small empty office to question the witnesses she’d be interviewing, while Blalock took the classroom across the hall.

Leaning back against the desk, Ella waved the first student inside. “Your name?”

“Gladys Joe,” the black-haired Navajo girl answered. She was short and stocky, and her face animated. Not waiting for Ella to ask questions, she started speaking
immediately. “I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out who could have done this. I’m taking police-science courses, so I think I know what you’re looking for,” she added. “The bomb was in that book bag you were holding when we left, right?”

“Yes, it was.”

Before Ella could say anything else, Gladys continued. “I don’t remember seeing that particular bag before, but then again, practically
everyone carries a book bag these days—at least here at the college.”

“Did you remember seeing anyone go up to the podium?” Ella asked.

Gladys shook her head. “I came in just before you did, and was just sitting down when you picked up the bag. When Reverend Ford asked us all to go outside after that, I
knew
something was going on.”

Gladys was a young wannabe police officer if she’d ever seen
one. Ella envied her enthusiasm. Even at the beginning of her career, her past had made that kind of excitement and optimism impossible. She’d been led into law enforcement over twenty years ago by the death of her husband. By then, she’d had few illusions about the human spirit—except that it could survive, and endure almost anything.

“The way I see it,” Gladys continued, “the target
had
to
be Reverend Tome. There are some Traditionalists who resent Christian preachers trying to spread their religion here on our land. As Navajos, we have our own traditional beliefs.”

Ella looked at her, and blinked. Somehow she couldn’t see Gladys, who was dressed in tight jeans and a sleeveless sweater vest, as a Traditionalist. The chocolate brown cell phone at her belt suggested that, if anything,
she was a New Traditionalist. That group was growing in numbers on the Rez nowadays. New Traditionalists professed their belief in the old ways but, by and large, followed that lifestyle only as far as practical. “Designer hogans with cable,” her mother, Rose, often muttered with mild contempt.

“Can you name some of Reverend Tome’s enemies?” Ella pressed.

Gladys’ eyebrows knitted together as
she considered the question. “Not really, but like paying a traffic ticket, evangelism on the Rez can get people ticked off. Of course that’s usually not enough to kill somebody over.” She paused, then continued. “Have you considered looking for someone who might be jealous of you and the Reverend—you know, personal stuff.”

“That’s a thought. Thanks for your cooperation,” Ella
said, wondering
if there was anyone in the town of Shiprock who
didn’t
know she and Ford were dating. Curious to know Gladys’ future plans, she added, “Are you thinking of joining our department after you finish your education?”

Gladys shook her head. “I want to get away from the Rez for a while,” she answered. “I’ve never been farther west than Flagstaff, and I’d like to see California and the ocean. I thought
I’d finish school, then sign up for one of the federal law enforcement agencies.”

Memories stirred at the back of Ella’s mind, and she nodded. She’d felt that urge to see the world once. And she had. But now she was glad to be home.

The next three hours of interviews yielded nothing of substance. The position of the lectern had hidden the book bag from view, and nobody remembered anyone other
than Reverend Ford and her going up to the front.

A half hour later, Blalock came into the room. “I’m finished with my interviews, but I’ve got nothing solid. Some of the kids had interesting theories, though.”

“What kind of theories?” she asked.

“Some thought that Ford got targeted because he’s done some work for the tribal police, or because his church is always pushing to get new members.
But then, why not bomb the church?”

“A church is just a building. You have to take out the people—or at least their leaders—to shut them down. Or maybe I’m thinking too much about terrorism here,” Ella added with a shrug. “As one of the students I spoke to pointed out, evangelism alone isn’t a reason to blow someone up, at least not in this country. But I wonder if this may have something to
do with Ford’s past.” Although she’d tried several times to find out what Ford had done prior to his arrival on the Rez, that part of his life remained a mystery to her.

Blalock nodded slowly. “I know where you’re going with that. We both know he worked for some federal agency, and
that he’s a trained cryptographer. I tried to dig up his record a few times myself, mostly out of curiosity, but
then orders came down from D.C. to back off.”

“We may have more luck checking his background now that it appears he’s a target for assassination.” She paused, then reached for her cell phone. “Give me a second to make a call and see if there’s any news about Ralph.”

“I checked a few minutes ago. He’s still in surgery.”

Ella nodded, silently replaying the scene in her mind and wondering if she
could have done something—anything—to prevent what had happened.

With effort, she pushed the thought aside. Those questions would be answered later. At the moment, there was other work that needed to be done.

“I wish this campus had security videos inside the classrooms,” Blalock mused.

“There’s never been a reason for anything like that. Except for an occasional student protest, nothing much
ever happened here—until now.”

A
fter gathering all the statements taken by other officers, Ella joined her team. With one of their own close to death, everyone was determined to find the bomber. No clue would be overlooked.

“We need to talk,” Blalock said, coming up to Ella, who was looking for deposits of bomb debris on a scorched wall inside Edmond Hall.

“What’s up?”

“If Ford was
the target, not the school, the bomber will know soon enough that his attempt failed—meaning, Ford’s still a target.”

“And if the perp hung around afterwards like some do, he might already have another hit planned,” Ella added, looking outside through the opened door. Ford was talking to students from one of the benches on the commons. “I’ll follow him home when he leaves. If anyone shows an
interest in him, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll keep working here with the team until we wrap up, but you might want to interview Ford now, while everything’s still fresh in his mind. I left him for you. I figured you’d want to talk to him yourself,” Blalock said.

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s question him together,” Ella said. “I may be too close to this.”

A few minutes later, they joined Ford, who’d
said goodbye to the last of his students. He was now sitting alone on a bench, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup. To Ella, it looked like he’d aged ten years in the past few hours.

“Are you up to some hard questions?” she asked, leading him away from the benches and back in the general direction of the crime scene.

“How can I help?” he asked, falling into step beside her and Blalock.

“Reverend,
there’s a really good chance that
you
were the target today, not this campus. If Investigator Clah hadn’t found that bomb when she did . . .” Blalock purposely let the sentence hang.

Fear flashed in Ford’s eyes, but in an instant that was replaced with understanding and acceptance. “If you’re right about that, then I’m still a target, and I could endanger whoever I’m around. That means I can’t
go back to our church or hang around any group of people. I should probably go home right now.”

“I need you to think really hard, Ford. Do you have any idea why someone would come after you?” Ella asked.

Almost a minute passed before Ford finally spoke. “At this point in my life I’m no threat to anyone, so the answer’s no.”

“What were you going to speak about today?” Blalock asked.