Red Mesa (22 page)

Ella nodded. “But she’s mentally impaired from the alcohol, isn’t
she?”

“Yes, but it’s too soon to know to what extent. She may yet be able to lead an almost normal life.”

“I get so tired of dealing with alcohol-related disasters,” Ella said, recalling the drunken driver who had nearly claimed her mother’s life.

“And you don’t see half of what I do,” Carolyn replied.

Ella glanced up at the clock on the wall and cursed. “I’ve got to go. I wanted to attend
my cousin’s memorial service, but now I’m afraid I’ve probably missed the entire thing.”

“No, it’s still under way. They were having a Mass. But—” She clamped her mouth shut. “No, never mind.”

“Go on. What were you going to say?”

“You may be in for a rough welcome. I understand that some of the family blames you, at least partially, for Justine’s death, so stay on your guard.”

“Thanks for
the warning, but I have to go. Big Ed wants me there, though I think it might be better for the family if I just didn’t show up.”

“You’re not guilty of anything, so don’t let anyone push you into acting as if you are. I know you’re thinking of their feelings, and that’s commendable, but not wise. It’s bound to be misconstrued and used against you.”

“How come you’re not there?”

“I wouldn’t be
shunned in a church service like that since mostly modernists are part of the congregation, but there’s no denying that I make people uncomfortable—even Navajos who admit they don’t know squat about our ways. I sent flowers, and suggested in the note that went with it that maybe I should avoid attending the memorial service. I figured I’d go if the family called and told me to come anyway, but no
one did.”

“They still know you were a good friend to her,” Ella said.

Ella left the hospital and drove directly to the memorial service. By the time she found a parking place and walked up to the main entrance, people had just started coming out of the church.

Ella saw Justine’s family in a group, meeting visitors. She remained in the background, but as Angela turned to speak to someone, their
eyes met. The pain in Angela’s eyes tore a hole through her. Angela now existed in another reality—one of only loss, regret, and naked sorrow. No one’s words could reach her now. She was past listening, past seeing the things around her, and past caring about anything except the pain in her heart.

As Ruth and Jayne turned and saw Ella, Ruth immediately went to her mother’s side and started to
lead her away. But Jayne strode to where Ella stood and faced her squarely.

“You wanted us to believe that you were our sister’s friend, but you couldn’t even show up on time at her service,” Jayne said, sorrow and anger in her every word.

“I was sent on an emergency call. I apologize. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Or maybe it was just a guilty conscience. I don’t know if you did anything to cause
her death, or just weren’t around in time to help her. Either way, you’ve got my sister’s blood on your hands.”

Ella felt everyone staring at her. She was being singled out in front of her friends and relatives, and there was nothing she could say to defend herself that wouldn’t just make things worse.

Paul Natoni came up then, and never looking at Ella, led Jayne away by the arm. Ella was surprised
to see Natoni there at all, but as she looked around the small gathering, she realized that very few of Justine’s other friends had come. Of course, that wasn’t surprising. Because of the belief that saying the name of the dead within four days of the person’s death could call forth their
chindi,
a memorial service could be dangerous.

The only place more hazardous in the minds of the traditionalists
was Red Mesa, because that was where Justine was presumably killed, and where her
chindi
most likely remained.

Ella stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her cousins receive condolences from members of the community. Big Ed was in the group and gave Ella an encouraging nod, but made no attempt to join her. Then she saw Harry Ute. He spoke to several people, then came up to Ella.

Standing
away from the crowd, yet still watching everyone, Harry spoke in a soft, low voice. “The story is that I was on assignment in Albuquerque and flew in for the service.”

“Got it.”

“I also received your message. What’s up?”

“Could Samuel Begaye be the one who did this?” she asked, her voice a bare whisper.

“I don’t know for sure. I had an unconfirmed report of Begaye over near Crownpoint that
night, and that probably puts him too far away to be directly connected to the murder.”

“But you said it was unconfirmed.”

“I haven’t had a chance to follow it up and verify the source. But either way, it doesn’t remove him from the suspect list entirely. It’s possible he’s working in tandem with someone else. To stay at large, he’s needed help. But your cousin’s murder looks well planned, and
that MO is all wrong for Begaye. He doesn’t seem to worry about the mess or anyone identifying the body. He’s not a premeditated type of killer. Begaye kills when drunk and provoked, and then it’s sloppy.”

She nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. But if you find anything that links Begaye to this crime, let me know right away. I’m under the gun on this one.”

Harry nodded. “So I’ve heard, and I wish
I could give you a hand with the investigation. But unless I find a connection, I can’t help. My priority is finding Begaye. I can’t get involved in your case unless the trail leads to my fugitive.”

“I know.” Ella was disappointed, but she hadn’t really expected anything different.

“There’s one thing I want you to understand. If I find even the remotest possibility that there’s a connection,
you’ll be the first to know. If the man I was sent here to find killed our friend, I want him—probably even more than you do.”

“Be careful about making it personal, Harry,” she warned. “Believe me, it just gives you one more complication to worry about. Mentally, I’m already there. I knew she was experiencing some problems and I should have seen this coming.”

“When something like this happens,
everyone wants to take the blame. But the only person responsible is the one, or maybe the ones, who killed her.”

She nodded. “I hear you, but it’s really hard not to second-guess everything.”

“Stick to the case. In fact, immerse yourself in it. That’s my advice.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do. I’m going to check out every enemy my cousin ever made. Begaye will go on that list, so our
cases may intersect at some point.”

Harry nodded. “Just let me know if they do.”

“Also keep your eyes and ears open for any other kind of trouble on the reservation,” Ella asked.

“Like what?”

“I’m not exactly sure. But there’s a chance that the Tribal Police Department may have been targeted by a person or a group out there, and we’ve just seen the first casualty. We have nothing substantial
to base that on. It’s just a theory. But I’d like you to stay alert to the possibility.”

“All right.” He moved off, disappearing into a small group of mourners with an ease only Harry possessed.

Ella saw Abigail Yellowhair taking a puff from her asthma inhaler. Abigail’s eyes met hers for a split second before the late senator’s wife looked away, nervously. Ella guessed that she was the last
person Mrs. Yellowhair wanted to be seen with today.

By the time Ella left the church grounds, she felt drained of all energy and emotion. It had been difficult for her when she’d first returned to the reservation more than four years ago. She’d been an outsider and been treated as such, but she expected things to be even worse for her now. She was going to be treated like a pariah until she
could prove she hadn’t turned to evil.

Ella went home, hoping to have a very late lunch, unwind, then get back to work, but when she pulled up in the driveway she saw her brother’s pickup.

Bracing herself for more tension between her and her sister-in-law, Loretta, who was probably inside, Ella stepped out of the Jeep.

Clifford, who’d apparently seen her drive up, came outside. “I didn’t expect
you to be coming home this early,” he said.

“I just left the memorial service and wanted time to myself, away from the station.”

He nodded slowly. “I wondered if you’d go to the Mass.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Big Ed practically made it an order. But I missed the service itself. I had to take an emergency call. Of course, that made things even worse for me with our cousin’s family.”

“Are things
as bad for you as I’ve heard?”

“What have you heard?”

“That some of our relatives are holding you responsible for the death, and that our cousin is starting to believe it, too.”

“Yes, all that’s true.”

“That’s the bad news. But there’s even more trouble to come. I’m certain that many traditionalists will see these events as proof that you’ve turned to evil and now are a danger to the tribe.”

She nodded. “The traditionalists will be the first, but sooner or later, a lot of others will see what’s happened in the same light. Public opinion will condemn me based on circumstantial evidence alone.”

Loretta came out looking for Clifford, saw Ella, and refusing to even acknowledge her presence, went back inside.

“Forgive her. She doesn’t mean to be that way.”

“Yes, she does.”

Clifford
smiled wryly. “You’re probably right, but she’s never known you or understood you like I do.”

“Few do.”

“That’s part of what worries me the most. I understand what it’s like when everything goes wrong and friends turn against you. I was on the run once, alone, and wondering if the truth would ever bear me out. It was the most difficult time of my life,” he said, referring to the time when he’d
been the prime suspect in their father’s murder.

“I’ll get through it like you did,” Ella said.

“No, not like I did. I had my beliefs to sustain me. You still don’t have something like that to hold on to. You walk the line between the Navajo and Anglo worlds, but neither one will welcome you now. I’ll counter all the lies and the rumors I hear about you, but because we’re brother and sister,
the good I can do you will be limited.”

Ella understood what he meant. Many would distrust him, too, thinking she’d corrupted him. It was suddenly very clear to her that she might have to face things completely on her own, and that was something she’d rarely done since becoming a cop. Even her fellow officers might begin to doubt her if the evidence against her continued to mount. One way or
another, she’d have to uncover the truth quickly, or her entire life would come apart at the seams.

FIFTEEN

In a pensive mood, Ella ate a sandwich at the old picnic table while Dawn played outside in the sandbox beside her, stacking blocks of wood as high as she could, then laughing when the precariously stacked columns fell down. Dawn had already eaten, but came back every few minutes for a bite of Ella’s sandwich. It was one way Ella had spoiled her already.

Ella had sensed that Clifford
and Loretta had wanted to be alone with Rose, and that had suited her perfectly. The only company she really wanted right now was that of her daughter. Ella got down beside her in the sandbox and made her own stack of wood blocks, but soon Dawn was tired of stacking blocks and began to play with her dinosaur, making furrows in the sand with the stuffed creature’s legs and long tail.

When Dawn
nearly fell asleep sitting in the sand, Ella picked her up, brushed the sand gently off her daughter, and took the little girl back inside.

“Mom, I’ve got to go back to work,” Ella said. Clifford and his wife were seated on the sofa, and Rose in her favorite chair. “Dawn’s sleepy, so she might be ready for an early nap today.”

“I’ve learned not to count on things like that,” Rose said, laughing
as she reached out for Dawn, who stumbled toward her.

“Before you go, sister, I need to speak to you,” Clifford said unexpectedly.

Ella saw the venomous glare Loretta gave her, and decided that the reason her brother and his wife had wanted to be alone with Rose was that they’d had a family meeting of sorts. It didn’t take a genius to guess the topic of discussion, either.

Curious, she tried
to read her mother’s expression, but Rose’s attention was focused on Dawn. The only thing she could read on Loretta’s face was strong disapproval, but that didn’t tell her anything new.

Ella picked up her weapon from the top shelf of the bookcase where she’d left it before going out with Dawn. As she fastened the pancake holster to her belt, Clifford came into the kitchen.

“I want to help you
find this killer,” he said.

“What did you have in mind?”

“As I thought about the events, one possibility came to me. I don’t like it, but I need to make sure we’re not going up against our old enemies again.”

“We’re not,” she said, knowing he meant skinwalkers. “The signs are wrong. This is more brutal and direct in its own way. I just need to get some solid evidence or a witness who’s credible
before I’ll know exactly what happened. I think the killer or killers are enemies our cousin and I have made through the course of our work.”

“Maybe I can still help. You know that I wouldn’t volunteer to do this lightly, but why don’t you take me to where the crime took place? I may be able to see or sense something you and the others may have missed. I know how observant you are, but we just
don’t look at things from the same perspective. That could be an asset to you now.”

Ella considered it. She knew what a sacrifice this was for Clifford, but he was right. His insight would be invaluable. She looked for physical evidence, but he looked for the
hózhq,
harmony in the relationship all things had to each other. That was why he could often quickly spot things that didn’t belong. An
animal or even an insect that shouldn’t be there could have far-reaching consequences. This was an idea that forensic pathologists were just beginning to discover when they took into account seemingly unrelated things like the gestation of certain insects on dead flesh.