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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

BOOK: Red Mesa
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“You think something bigger is brewing?”

“I feel … trouble in the air. I can’t be more specific than that. But you know my hunches are seldom wrong. Has anything unusual been happening here at the hospital?”

Carolyn shook her head. “Not recently. Everything’s pretty quiet. This time of year, people are busy getting ready for winter.”

“If anything comes up—anything at all—let
me know, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll even ask around upstairs and see if anything new is going on.”

“Thanks, Carolyn.”

“How’s Dawn and your mother?”

“Mom still won’t let me hire anyone to come in and help, and that has me a little concerned. I’m afraid that Dawn will be too much for Mom, and that she may not admit it to me before disaster strikes.”

Carolyn shook her head. “Rose would naturally
be slow to admit she can’t keep up with a toddler, but if she discovers that she needs help, she’ll find a way to let you know.”

“I still worry about her. Her legs have given her problems since the accident, and with cold weather coming on soon, the aches will get worse.” Ella stood up. “But enough of that. I better get going.”

“I’ve heard that Justine has been having problems at work getting
along with people, especially you. Is there any truth to that rumor?”

“It’s impossible to keep anything under wraps on this reservation,” Ella said, and rolled her eyes. “To answer your question, yes, Justine and I have been having a few problems, but we’ll work them out.”

“Just remember that Justine’s feeling more secure as a cop now that she’s earned her own place in the department. She may
begin to feel that she’s in your shadow and needs to prove she’s just as good as you are. I’ve seen that happen here with young residents and the teaching staff.”

Ella shook her head. “No, that’s not quite it. We had a misunderstanding. Normally we would have worked it out quickly, but I think Justine’s having some personal problems and whatever’s going on is really affecting her work. I might
talk to my cousin Angela and try to find out what’s going on. I’m certain she’d know, but whether or not she’ll tell me is another matter. She’s always been very protective of her daughters.”

“Good luck.” As her phone began to ring, Carolyn returned to work, and Ella waved silently, leaving the room.

Ella walked back out to her unit. Things looked peaceful around her, the air was fresh and clear,
and the leaves were still on the trees. But there was an undercurrent of evil that was sending its spiderlike tendrils through everything around her. People were getting ugly and bad things were starting to happen. Wondering what was at the heart of it, and how long it would take for her to find answers, she headed back to her office.

*   *   *

Ella had just maneuvered into a parking space at
the station when she got a call from dispatch, instructing her to switch to tactical frequency two for a message from FBI agent Blalock. She reached down and complied immediately.

“SI One now on TAC two. Go ahead, Fed One.”

“This is Fed One. Ella, what’s your ’twenty?”

“Just arrived at the main station, Fed One. What’s going on?”

“I’d like your backup before checking out a Rez house just east
of Hogback. We’re searching for a Navajo male bank robbery suspect. Your Sergeant Neskahi spotted a yellow sedan with the perp’s license number and called us. He’s got the vehicle under surveillance now at the white farmhouse, one mile east of where the old Turquoise Bar stood. The farmhouse is on the south side of the highway.”

“Ten-four, Fed One. Has the suspect been observed?”

“Negative.
Just the vehicle. No one has been seen in or near the farmhouse, either. We need to go search the premises. The suspect is of medium height and weight, Native American with very short hair, wearing a blue jacket and jeans.”

“Ten-four. That description isn’t very helpful. What’s your ’twenty and what kind of backup do you have?”

“Agent Payestewa and I are in our vehicles a half mile west of the
farmhouse. What’s your ETA?” Blalock asked.

“Less than ten minutes if I hustle. I’ll pass the farmhouse, then come back from the east. Once you see me go by, make your move.”

“Sounds good, Clah. Neskahi will drive behind the house and cover the rear. We’ll take the front and west sides. Be careful. The suspect indicated he was armed, though no weapon was seen during the robbery.”

Blalock had
good tactical training. In that respect the FBI Academy couldn’t be beat. His plan seemed a reasonable alternative to waiting an hour or more for a SWAT team to assemble, and it was well thought out. If luck stayed on their side, it would be a smooth operation.

With her unmarked Jeep, Ella knew she wouldn’t alarm anyone watching from the farmhouse, but she was careful not to stare when she drove
past. Sergeant Neskahi’s white police unit was hidden by some brush, and as he recognized her vehicle passing by, she saw him get on the move.

Ella waited for a civilian vehicle to pass her, then quickly turned around in a wide stretch of road and headed back toward the farmhouse.

Neskahi was already moving down the lane past the farmhouse when she pulled into the driveway. Ahead, Blalock’s
vehicle was coming to a halt almost at the front porch, and another she assumed was Agent Payestewa’s moved up to the west side of the house, covering that side.

Ella left her Jeep, pulling out her own weapon about the same time as Blalock stepped up beside the front door. Out of the left corner of her eye, she could see Neskahi emerging from his own unit, shotgun ready.

Ella checked for signs
of someone at the two windows on the east side of the house, noted both were curtained and closed, then ran to the northeast corner to cover Blalock.

“Open up! FBI,” Blalock yelled, keeping one eye on the window to his right. Ella was watching the one to his left, and somewhere, out of sight, Payestewa was covering the west side.

“Woman by the front door!” The Hopi agent poked his head around
the northwest corner. “She looks unarmed.”

Blalock nodded, and stepped back as the door slowly opened, his pistol ready. “FBI agent, ma’am. Please step outside.”

Ella watched as a thin, frightened-looking Navajo woman in her late fifties opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. She was wearing a cotton dress with no belt at her waist, and high-topped shoes with white socks. “What’s
going on, Officers? Are you looking for the man from that car?” Her voice was shaking as she gestured toward the suspect vehicle underneath a nearby cottonwood tree.

“Yes. Is he here?” Blalock kept looking back and forth from the woman to the open door.

“No. He said the car wasn’t running right and left it there. He ran off about a half hour ago, heading toward the Hogback Trading Post. He said
he had a friend there who would drive over and fix it for him.”

“Is there anyone else at home with you?” Ella asked, stepping closer, but still keeping an eye on the side of the house.

“No, I’m alone. That’s why I wouldn’t let the man in. He looked like he might be dangerous. Did he hurt somebody? Is that why you’re looking for him?” the woman asked, brushing a lock of thinning black hair away
from her face.

Blalock nodded. “You did the right thing by not letting him in. Was he carrying something, like a paper bag?” Blalock relaxed slightly, but still kept an eye on the door. Payestewa had moved close enough that he could hear the conversation, too, and Ella could see Neskahi by the rear corner of the building.

“When he ran off, he stopped by the car to get a paper sack. How did you
know?” the woman asked.

“That’s what the perp had the teller put the money in,” Blalock said, looking at Ella, who nodded.

“Would you allow us to search your house?” Ella asked. “I’m Investigator Clah with the Tribal Police. Sometimes a suspect you think has gone off is really hidden close by.” Ella wanted to make sure the woman wasn’t under duress, or a friend of the perp lying to get them
to leave.

“Go ahead, Officers. But I’d like to go with you. I don’t let anyone just wander around my home without me being there, too.”

Ella looked at Blalock, who nodded, knowing why she wanted to check out the residence. “We’ll look together,” Ella told the woman.

“You might want to take the sergeant and check out the Trading Post,” Ella said to Blalock. “Maybe the perp switched cars.”

“Good idea.” Blalock waved Agent Payestewa over. “Lucas, check out the car, then look for footprints. Maybe he circled around or took off down by the river.”

“I get the job because we Hopis are good trackers, right, boss?” Payestewa cracked.

“No, Lucas, it’s because I’m in charge here, and if there’s going to be a confrontation at the Trading Post, I’ve had more experience in a firefight. So
has the sergeant.”

“Well, I
am
a good tracker.” Payestewa shrugged and walked toward the suspect’s car, weapon out on the off chance he was hiding inside.

Blalock got Neskahi and they took off in a hurry in Blalock’s vehicle. Ella watched until Payestewa waved that the car was clear, then she went inside with the Navajo woman to check out the house.

Five minutes later, Ella had verified that
the woman wasn’t hiding anyone inside, and that she’d never seen the suspect before. As she was giving Ella a description of the man, Ella realized that it fit Samuel Begaye down to the scar on the back of his wrist. Suddenly a call came though on Ella’s handheld radio.

“He’s long gone, Ella. One of the clerks at the Trading Post just discovered his pickup has been stolen. Neskahi is calling
the Shiprock station, and they have officers checking the area now. I’ll be back there in a few minutes, and we’ll add what the woman knows to our information on the perp.”

A half hour later, Ella was driving back toward Shiprock. Blalock and Payestewa were off pursuing the lead they had on the stolen vehicle, armed with the knowledge that the bank robber was probably Samuel Begaye, the escaped
federal fugitive Harry Ute was after. Photos from a bank camera would verify that, and while they waited for that evidence to be turned over to them and processed, mug shots of Begaye were going to be shown to all the eyewitnesses. Harry Ute would be contacted, too, so they could better coordinate the manhunt.

Ella headed away from the scene knowing that Begaye’s days as a fugitive were numbered.

NINE

It was just after noon by the time she arrived at the station. Ella saw a dozen or so people gathered around the entrance, and she recognized a few of them from the disturbance at Window Rock. It was clear that Zah’s relatives were lining up in moral support. But from the looks of it, the victim’s family was also calling in the troops. Several Navajos were in the parking lot beside two pickups,
and it looked like they had signs to wield.

Ella entered the building quickly after an officer stationed at the entrance unlocked the door for her. One way or another, she wanted to stay out of it this time unless it got out of hand. She had enough work to do today.

As Ella walked down the hall to her office, she saw a tall man in baggy black pants and polyester jacket leaning against the wall
beside Justine’s office door. As she got closer, Ella recognized Paul Natoni. The good-looking, oily-haired lowlife in his mid-twenties had a history of gang connections and misdemeanor jail time as a youth, though he’d never been convicted of anything, to her knowledge at least.

“Natoni, can I help you with something?”

“No, I’m just waiting for a friend.”

“The jail’s visiting rooms are on
the other side of the building.”

“You always assume the worst.” He smiled patronizingly, folding his arms across his L.A. Raiders sports jacket. “For your information, I’m right where I should be.”

“Oh, really? What are you waiting for, then?”

“I don’t have to answer you. I’m not under arrest.”

“Not yet,” Ella answered. “But you’re not supposed to be back here without an officer present.”

“You’re an officer, unless you just got fired.”

“If you fail to answer my question, I’ll have to ask you to leave the building.”

“Threats?”

“No, reality. I’ll repeat. What are you doing here?”

“You’re wasting your time. All you need to know is that I haven’t broken any laws.”

“Except loitering—unless you state your business here.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve got to be kidding. Don’t you have any
real criminals to hassle today?”

“Either answer my question or leave the building right now.”

“You can’t kick me out.” Natoni clenched his fists down by his sides and moved closer to her, squaring off like a pro wrestler in a staged confrontation.

Ella smiled slowly. “I started out in a rotten mood this morning, but you’re brightening my day.” In a lightning-flash move, she brought him to his
knees with a painful pinch hold on the back of his hand. As he groaned, she twisted his arm behind his back, easing the pressure only slightly so he could stand. “Get up. You’re leaving the building now.”

As Ella hurried him down the hall, she wondered if he was somehow connected to their new prisoner, Zah. Slipping a man into the building to listen in on conversations and learn the layout would
have been a good strategy.

As she reached the entrance, the officer on duty opened the door so they could pass through. Once Ella had forced Natoni outside, somebody in the group gathered on Zah’s behalf recognized her as one of the officers who’d transferred him from Window Rock. Two women began hurling insults at her. She studied the faces casually, and slowly concluded that there was nothing
to worry about yet, though it was clear that Zah’s supporters blamed the police for his arrest.

Ella let go of Natoni’s arm. “Go join your friends,” she said, taking a step back away from him.

“You think I’m part of that crowd?” He shook his head. “These sheepherders mean nothing to me.”

“So what were you doing inside the building?”

Natoni smiled. “I’m still not going to answer that.”

“And
I don’t have time to play games.”

Ella went back inside and strode down to the chief’s office. His door was open as usual. As she knocked lightly on the door, the chief waved at her to come in.

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