Red Mesa (4 page)

“And that’s why your partner almost shot you?”

“What it came down to was this. I saw the perp going in one direction and followed. Justine had done the same earlier, but lost track of him in the dark. Then she ran into me, thinking
I
was the
perp. The fact is that the perp appeared to be in two different places at nearly the same time.”

“So you’re saying that there might have been
two
suspects, both dressed the same as you?”

“Unless one of us is having memory problems, it’s the only way our differences in timing and location of the suspect make any sense at all. I haven’t found evidence that it was a two-man job yet, but I intend
to pursue it from that angle. In the meantime, I think Justine deserves a break. We’ve all been trained to react automatically to certain situations, and I believe that she was manipulated into doing exactly what she did.”

Big Ed regarded her thoughtfully for what seemed an eternity. “I trust your instincts. I always have. But this time…”

“Justine’s a good officer, and she had a difficult, split-second
decision to make. She had already been fired upon, and was really pumped up. If we ride her too hard before we have all the facts, we’ll ruin what’s left of her confidence, and without that, she’ll be no good as a cop.”

The chief said nothing, staring at a daddy longlegs spider crawling up the wall. “Okay,” he said at length. “But I want her out at the range going over target selection and lethal-force
procedures twice a week until further notice.”

“Done.”

“By the way, isn’t this supposed to be your day off?”

Ella nodded, then shrugged. “We debriefed last night, but I came in to make sure Justine was okay, and to make out my report. Officially, I’m not here.”

Ella walked toward her office and on the way stopped by Justine’s lab. Justine wasn’t there, so Ella left a note on her desk asking
Justine to call her at home. She wanted this straightened out.

She also wanted to try and figure out where Big Ed had gotten all the details. Only four people had been there. Ella, Justine, the perp, and the clerk. It was possible that Justine had inadvertently said more than she intended, or the chief had caught her in an inconsistency, but that didn’t seem likely. The perp was long gone, and
the clerk hadn’t seen anything. He’d been inside the store. Of course, it was very possible that he’d overheard their conversation outside. But would he make it a point to talk to the chief about it? That seemed like a stretch.

After making out her report and dropping it by Big Ed’s office, she left the station. She’d told Dawn she’d take her to play by the river’s edge today, and she wouldn’t
break the promise.

Remembering the cryptic warning she’d received on her computer, Ella stopped by the Totah Cafe and picked up the latest issue of the tribal newspaper and a copy of the Farmington daily, the biggest paper from the area. She wanted to reacquaint herself with the latest news in and around the Rez. If there really was trouble brewing, she had no intention of being caught unawares.

THREE

On the way home, Ella listened to a Navajo radio station, and in particular to the hourly news. If there was a major conspiracy going on, maybe it was connected to an event or an institution, like the tribal government. Major elections were coming up in another year, and already many politicians and wanna-be politicians were starting to position themselves to run for elected office.

Mrs.
Yellowhair, the late state senator’s wife, would be running for the office her husband had held. An interim appointee held the seat now, an Anglo car dealer no one outside Farmington supported. Abigail Yellowhair, seeing that as a sign to move forward and accomplish her own goals, was gearing up her campaign.

After the terrorist incident last year, the tribe’s faith in their elected officials
and the tribal government had plummeted. Corruption allegations and scandals continued to rock the hierarchy on the Rez, creating even more unrest.

Ella thought about Coyote and what he’d told her. That instant message had rattled her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. She suspected it had to be a cop, but Ella didn’t think it could be any officers working out of the Window Rock
or Shiprock stations. She knew all of the experienced officers, and as far as she knew, no one was undercover now.

That left officers in the county sheriff’s department, Farmington PD, and a few other departments, not counting the few Feds she knew from the area, and a couple in California whom she’d worked with years ago. From what he’d said, Coyote knew her well, but she had no idea who he
was, and that bothered her.

As a Navajo, she’d been taught that to be in harmony, all aspects of her life had to be balanced and ordered. She wasn’t a traditionalist, but she’d always liked to keep things neatly sorted in her head. It was a habit that had served her well as a cop. One of the reasons she was so successful with her cases was that she never disregarded unanswered questions. But
to press on Coyote’s identity might compromise an undercover cop. Not to mention that to access the real name behind that account, she’d need a court order. Since he hadn’t threatened her, or committed any criminal offense, it was extremely doubtful she’d get one even if she were willing to try.

By the time she arrived home, Dawn was playing in the front yard in the sandbox Ella and her daughter’s
father had constructed for her, wearing her denim mini overalls with the lamb in the center, plus matching sneakers. She was pulling a dinosaur on wheels across the sand by a short length of nylon rope. The toy was being dragged, since it was nearly impossible for it to roll in the soft, dry sand, but Dawn didn’t seem to mind.

The moment she saw Ella, Dawn squealed and climbed over the low board
of the sandbox, then ran toward her in her wobbly gait. “Go play now?”

“If you’re ready, I am,” Ella said, nodding to Rose, who’d been nearby working in her herb garden.

All the way to the river Dawn tried to discover a way out of the car seat. She wasn’t crying and fussing, though, just trying tirelessly to find a way to defeat the straps and web mechanism that kept her in the seat.

Ella watched
her daughter, proud of the way she never gave up. She’d need that stubbornness to survive. Many in the tribe would never accept Dawn, no more than they did her, because of the legacy that followed their family.

It was part myth, part history, and part legend, and Ella herself wasn’t sure how much of it to believe. The story centered around Mist Eagle, a woman of their clan, who’d fallen in love
with Fire Hawk, a member of her same clan. In spite of the taboos that strictly prohibited such an association, Mist Eagle tricked Fire Hawk one night and, in the dark, posed as his wife. She’d become pregnant, and shortly afterwards her deception was discovered and she’d been banished from the tribe.

Shunned by everyone except the skinwalkers—Navajo witches who were no strangers to incest—Mist
Eagle learned from them and became a powerful healer. Despite their efforts to corrupt her, she never used her powers for anything but good. But as the years passed and Mist Eagle’s daughter grew, so did her anger and resentment toward the tribe that had banished her mother. She eventually became a powerful evil force among The People.

Since that time, Mist Eagle’s direct descendants, particularly
those apparently born with special abilities, had been watched carefully by specially appointed members of the tribe. It was said that the gifts they inherited would either bless or totally corrupt them, and if they turned to evil, they would pose a danger to the tribe. For that reason, Mist Eagle’s descendants had always been encouraged to have at least two children. If one turned to evil,
it would be up to the other child to restore harmony.

Clifford’s healing gifts, her own remarkable intuition, something that often gave her the edge on her investigations, and her mother’s ability to sometimes predict what was about to happen were all believed to be part of a dark legacy connected to their ancestor Mist Eagle.

In all fairness, none of their abilities was so remarkable as to
be considered astounding. Ella’s intuition could have been attributed to other things, like the powers of observation police work demanded, or in Clifford’s and her mother’s case, talent, coincidence, and plain luck, but the rumors persisted.

Ella parked near the river and unfastened her excited child from the car seat. As they walked down to the narrow, sandy banks lining this section of the
San Juan River, she began to feel the presence of something or someone nearby. She looked around her, peering into the saltbush and willows, and past them into the cottonwood trees that comprised the bosque, but no one was about.

This isolated area south of Shiprock was deserted, not an unusual occurrence for the middle of the week. But something niggled at the back of her mind, and Ella kept
a firm grip on Dawn’s tiny hand. The birds were quiet, and the only sound was that of the murky water twenty feet away. The damp sand where they were standing reminded her of the smell of catfish, but there was something else around that kept nature at bay.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, but at the same time, she didn’t feel any sense of imminent danger. Reaching up
to touch the carved badger fetish resting as a pendant around her neck, she discovered it was cool, not warm as it normally was when something bad was about to happen.

Unwilling to take any chances with her daughter along, Ella turned around and started heading back, promising Dawn an ice cream cone instead. It was then that she heard a soft whistling to her right. She smiled, recognizing the
habit if not the tune.

“Hello, Harry.”

She heard a deep-throated laugh as the former tribal cop and member of her investigative team stepped out from behind a large salt cedar, a wide grin on his face. “Hey, Ella. How have you been?”

At first all she could do was stare. Harry Ute had always been cadaverously thin, but in the past year he had put on at least twenty pounds of muscle. Clad in
jeans and a dark blue western shirt, he had the build of a rodeo cowboy. As far back as she’d known him, Harry’s expression had been so serious, almost glum. But although the man before her still retained that familiar intensity of purpose, gone was the perpetually gloomy expression.

“I hope you’re here to tell me that you’ve decided to leave the Marshals Service and come back to us.”

He crouched
down and smiled at Dawn. “Hey, little one. You’re already getting tall like your mother.”

Dawn smiled, then looked up at Ella. “Can I play now?”

“Yes, but stay here where the sand is damp, and don’t go near the water.”

Dawn sat down a few feet away and began forming a mound of damp sand into something only she could identify.

“No, I haven’t come back for good,” Harry said, squatting down and
sifting sand through his fingers. “I’m where I belong now. My new job suits me.”

“Then what’s brought you back, and why haven’t you stopped by the station? There’re lots of people who’d love to say hello to you.”

“Can’t do it. I’m undercover right now, tracking a fugitive. I followed you down here so I could catch you alone and advise you to stay on your guard. Remember Samuel Begaye, who was
sent up for murder when he beat a guy to death in a bar fight? He swore he’d get you and Justine for bringing him in.”

“I remember,” Ella said. “He was one mean drunk. He nearly took off Justine’s head with a shovel when we caught up to him. It took the both of us to subdue and cuff him.”

“He hates you and Justine with a passion. He believes that if it hadn’t been for you showing up when you
did, he would have made it up into the hills and no one would have ever found him.”

“Tough,” Ella said with a shrug.

“I have reason to believe he’s come back to New Mexico, and is here in the Four Corners area.”

“Do you think he’s going to try and even the score?” Ella asked, glancing at her daughter. Dawn had given up making shapes in the sand and was now trying to bury the small stuffed donkey
she’d brought along.

“Dawn, no,” Ella said. “You’ll get Blinky too dirty to sleep with.” She picked up the animal, shook it free of sand, then glanced over at Harry. “Sorry.”

Harry smiled, and they both watched Dawn for a moment as she made lines in the sand with a small piece of driftwood, then stood there fascinated as water seeped into the tiny ditches.

“It’s hard to say what Begaye is up
to with any degree of certainty,” Harry said, resuming their conversation. “My guess is that he came back here because his father, John, was murdered. Thomas Zah was arrested and will be facing trial in Window Rock eventually. But that’s probably not Samuel’s only reason for returning. This is a big Rez with a lot of empty spaces where he can hide or blend in far more easily than he could anywhere
else. He’s got friends here and family, too, people who’d help him without question. But if he sees a chance to even the score with you two, I’m almost certain he’ll take it—unless I catch him first.”

“Just how close are you to doing that?”

Harry exhaled softly. “I’m not sure. I’ve had a few leads, but he always seems to stay at least one step ahead of me.”

Ella studied his expression, wondering
if Harry could be “Coyote,” her mysterious contact. “Seen any coyotes lately?”

“Huh?”

Harry puzzled expression was genuine enough. There had been no sign of recognition on his face. “Never mind,” she said with a thin smile. “I’ll tell Justine about Begaye.”

“Oh—one more thing. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone else I’m back, not even Justine Goodluck. If word gets around that there’s a Navajo
deputy marshal looking for Begaye, his relatives will band together, close their mouths, and I’ll never find him.”

“If that’s what you want, you’ve got it. But if you need help, anytime, come by the house or give me a call. You remember my home number?” She saw him nod and continued. “Mom can keep a secret, and no matter what, I promise to cut through the red tape and give you all the backup
you need.”