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Authors: David Thurlo
Never-ending-snake
NEVER-ENDING-SNAKE
Also by Aimée & David Thurlo
Ella Clah Novels
Blackening Song
Death Walker
Bad Medicine
Enemy Way
Shooting Chant
Red Mesa
Changing Woman
Tracking Bear
Wind Spirit
White Thunder
Mourning Dove
Turquoise Girl
Coyote’s Wife
Earthway
Plant Them Deep
Lee Nez Novels
Second Sunrise
Blood Retribution
Pale Death
Surrogate Evil
Sister Agatha Novels
Bad Faith
Thief in Retreat
Prey for a Miracle
False Witness
Prodigal Nun
The Bad Samaritan
AN ELLA CLAH NOVEL
AIMÉE & DAVID THURLO
A Tom Doherty Associates Book
New York
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously.
NEVER-ENDING-SNAKE
Copyright © 2010 by Aimée and David Thurlo
All rights reserved.
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
Forge
®
is
a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
ISBN 978-0-7653-2450-4
First Edition: September 2010
Printed in the United States of America
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Madeline,
Your future is filled with endless possibilities.
May you always walk in beauty.
Special thanks to Sergeant Ryan Tafoya for always being there when we had a question.
Thanks also to Deputies Larry Harlan and Terry Matthews for helping us keep it real.
As always, any mistakes are our own.
NEVER-ENDING-SNAKE
As the small single-engine aircraft lifted off the Albuquerque runway—next stop Shiprock—Special Investigator Ella Clah of the Navajo Tribal Police couldn’t resist a smile. Even sharing a flight with a genuine Navajo war hero and the tribe’s most respected attorney couldn’t compare with the rush that came from knowing she was finally on the last leg of her journey
home.
She’d sorely missed her daughter during her short stay in D.C. Back in her twenties, the job she’d just been offered in the nation’s capital would have been a slam dunk. But Ella was twice that age now. With maturity and parenthood had come other responsibilities that surpassed even her dedication to restoring balance among the
Diné
—the Navajo People—so all could walk in beauty.
Pulling
out her BlackBerry, she checked for a signal. She’d sent her daughter a tweet and wondered if Dawn had replied. Her daughter was allowed to use the strictly text message utility as long as she followed the rules that Ella had set down for her. Like her mom, Dawn had her own followers and screen name. Dawn signed in as Firstlight1, and Ella was Ladylaw.
As she thought of her eleven-year-old, Ella
sighed, wondering where the time had gone. That chilly April morning
when she’d first held her baby girl in her arms seemed like only yesterday. Yet today it was warm, less than a week since Labor Day, and Dawn had already started the sixth grade.
“So what do you think of D.C.?” Kevin asked, looking back to talk. He was seated up front beside the pilot. “It’s an exciting place, isn’t it? Could
you see yourself and our daughter living there—at the center of power and intrigue for all the United States?”
Kevin Tolino was Dawn’s father. Even though he and Ella had never lived together or married, they’d remained close by sharing the responsibilities of parenthood. Like most parents, however, they’d had many conflicts over the years, particularly when it came to raising their child.
“What you’re really asking is whether I’ve decided to accept the job with John Blakely’s security firm,” she said with a ghost of a smile. “The answer’s still no. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
Ella had first met Blakely years ago when they’d both served in the FBI. He was a senior agent and she’d just come off her rookie year in the Bureau when they’d been assigned a particularly tough case
in the Denver area. The results of her undercover work had made a lasting impression on Blakely.
Now, retired from the Bureau, John had opened Personnel Profile Security, PPS, an up-and-coming firm in D.C. Recently, and seemingly out of nowhere, he’d called to offer her a job. Ella strongly suspected that Kevin had encouraged the contact—a not-so-subtle attempt to bring both her and her daughter
to D.C. where he spent most of his time. Kevin worked in the tribe’s Washington office almost exclusively these days.
Although she had many things to take into account before making her decision, there was no denying that the PPS offer would mean a substantial salary increase for her, in addition to far less dangerous and stressful work. It was an opportunity she couldn’t easily dismiss.
“The
shot at a career jump like this only comes once in a blue moon, particularly in today’s economy,” Kevin said.
She shook her head imperceptibly, warning him to drop the subject for now. Although she didn’t mind having this kind of conversation with Kevin, Adam Lonewolf, sitting just to her left, was practically a stranger. Media coverage had made Adam’s face familiar to everyone, and his deeds
in the military gathered attention and respect wherever he went. Yet the fact remained that Kevin had only just introduced them this morning at Reagan National Airport in Washington.
The tall, lean, ex-GI was a war hero and a big celebrity in the Four Corners, especially in the Navajo Nation. Sergeant Lonewolf had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross after almost singlehandedly fighting
off an attack on his unit’s Afghan mountain outpost. During six hours of nighttime combat, Sergeant Lonewolf had been wounded several times. Yet despite his own injuries, he’d rescued three trapped soldiers and led them to safety.
After leaving the military and returning home, Adam had sought a new direction for his life. The search had eventually led him to Kevin, who’d helped him get a job
as a lobbyist. Kevin had even gone the extra mile, introducing Adam to the Washington businessmen and government officials he’d need to network with on behalf of the tribe.
Recently, when Kevin had unexpectedly become the target of threats, Adam had volunteered to provide him with travel protection. Knowing Adam’s reputation would be the best possible deterrent, Kevin had readily agreed.
Lonewolf
wasn’t much of a talker, though. Ella doubted that he’d said more than three words since they’d left Albuquerque, and even less on the flight from the capital.
“Now that you’ve had a taste of D.C., how do you feel about representing the tribe and its business interests there?” Ella asked Adam, hoping to draw him out a bit.
“It’s a different kind of warfare,” he said after a beat. “But I’ll get
the hang of it.”
His smile never reached his eyes. The hard, yet vacant gleam there was one she recognized. She’d seen it in the faces of many veterans and experienced law enforcement officers who’d seen too much death—up close and personal. Adam’s military service had been intense and extremely violent and that left major scars, not all of them visible. Ella knew it was likely he would carry
some of those for as long as he lived.
“If you ever decide you want to leave a lobbyist’s pressure cooker life of not-so-gentle persuasion, come work full-time for me,” Kevin said.
Adam shook his head. “I’ll help you with security whenever I can, you know that, but I came back to serve the
Diné
. The best way for me to do that is by advancing the tribe’s interests in D.C.” He paused for a moment,
then continued. “As a soldier, I know firsthand what happens when word comes down from Washington. I want to give the
Diné
more input at the source, particularly when it comes to matters that’ll affect The People, whether it be in business, regulation, or legislation.”
“Does that mean you’re going to relocate to D.C. full-time?” Ella asked.
“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. The tribe
covers my transportation expenses. Staying connected to the
Dinétah
will help me keep my perspective, too.”
