Shooting Chant (16 page)

Ella knew that Clifford wouldn’t take part in anything violent. Yet, even though it was technically kidnapping, holding someone against their will for a while wouldn’t be something out of the question for him—providing the motives behind it were good and the person wasn’t hurt. “What are the demands, did they tell you?”

“All I know is that it’s all spelled out in the note they left in Yellowhair’s
car. Your officers must have it already and I expect you’ll get it from them shortly. Now how about giving me something in return? I’d like to know what’s in the note.”

Ella had just pulled out onto the highway, and was headed in the direction of Yellowhair’s home. “I’m on my way to where the senator’s abandoned car is right now. I’ll let you know as soon as I see the note.”

“The Anglo press
is going to get into this, all the way to Albuquerque and beyond. Will you give it to me first?”

“I’ll do my best. But if the kidnappers call you back, Lulu, be ready to record everything.”

“I’m working on that already.”

“And could you make me a list of Yellowhair’s enemies?”

“There are a lot of them, you know.” Lulu reminded.

“Pick your top ten, those you’d do a story on,” Ella sighed, then
hung up.

Next Ella called Blalock, the FBI resident agent. She didn’t particularly like the man, but she needed the bureau’s resources and possibly manpower, particularly if the evidence indicated that Yellowhair was being held off the Rez.

“I can meet you at the kidnapping site. I’m just twenty or so minutes away,” FB-Eyes, as Blalock was known, confirmed after hearing her account of the situation.

“Good enough.”

Ella had known Blalock for years, and they’d found their own way of getting along. The Anglo FBI agent had learned the hard way to make allowances for cultural differences and, now, was always sure to be seen in the company of a Navajo officer whenever he investigated a case on the reservation. Ella had noticed that his approach to the
Dineh
had mellowed considerably, too, from
the first time she’d met him. Then again, she’d mellowed, too. She wasn’t nearly as cocky.

As Ella sped down the highway, she forced her body to relax. She couldn’t allow the tension to get to her. She could and would do that for the baby, at least. Shifting her thoughts away from work momentarily, she looked at the passing scenery while heading northwest. The desert looked relatively lush this
season, especially in the lowlands and fields along the San Juan River. Instead of the dry, dusty air and the smell of baked earth, the ground was covered with flowers, clumps of wild grass, and big thickets of brush. Sheep and goats fed freely and, outwardly, it looked like a good year. But there was an undercurrent that lay just beneath the tranquility that extended to the horizon. It whispered
of other influences that threatened to corrupt the land and start a cycle of sorrow.

Ella focused her thoughts back to the job at hand as she arrived at the scene. Neskahi’s patrol car lights were flashing, and Justine was already there. Also present were round-faced Sergeant Tache, the department’s crime scene photographer, and Detective Harry Ute, whose job was to collect evidence. While Justine,
their only fully qualified forensics expert, went over every inch of the car, the other two worked the surroundings.

Ella walked up to Neskahi and saw the worried expression on his face. “What have you got for me, Sergeant?”

Neskahi had placed the note in an evidence pouch, labeled with the time and location, and his signature. “You’ll find this interesting,” he said, handing it to her.

Working
carefully, and wearing latex gloves, she read it.

“This is the Fierce One’s platform, all right, that the tribe should replace all non-Navajos on the tribe’s payroll. But this next demand of theirs is crazy. We can’t give any group a list of all non-Navajos working on the Rez, let alone arrange to have it appear in our newspaper along with their job titles. That sounds like they’re going to target
these people.” Ella shook her head, then continued. “Our job is to serve and protect, not bird-dog Anglos taking tribal money.”

“Did you notice that the insignia of the Fierce Ones doesn’t appear on the note, nor do they identify themselves clearly,” Neskahi pointed out. “Their demands are also extremely unreasonable. They want the tribe to replace every single non-Navajo worker, or pair the
person up with a Navajo to be trained for that job, no later than one month from now. And if the tribe doesn’t comply—for whatever the reason—they’ll kill their hostage, and take another one.”

Ella finished reading it, then shook her head. “Something’s not right about this. I realize these demands sound as if they’re coming from the Fierce Ones, but this isn’t their usual style.” She lapsed into
a troubled silence. Many would think that she was trying to protect her brother if she didn’t come down on the Fierce Ones now, but she was sure that there was more going on than met the eye. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being led on a wild-goose chase. “The Fierce Ones would have never made such impossible demands on the tribe.”

As Justine pulled out and headed down the road
to Senator Yellowhair’s home, Ella went up to Harry Ute. “I want you in on this investigation full time. I’m going to need more manpower in my unit.”

“Done,” he said, as he carefully continued to study the area for anything—hair, clothing fiber, or footprints that might have been left during the incident. “What would you like me to focus on?”

“Dig as hard as you can and compile a list of Yellowhair’s
enemies, political and otherwise. Go beneath the surface and get all the details you can.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Seeing Blalock’s sedan pulling up, Ella went to meet him. She filled him in quickly as they walked over to the victim’s car.

“It looks like you’ve got some built-in suspects already,” he said after he’d read the ransom note. “But I’ve got to tell you, in this case, that’s just
going to mean major-league trouble. If this is the work of the Fierce Ones, that group has a lot of support and sympathy in this corner of the Rez, despite their violent tactics. Investigating individuals within that group is going to be next to impossible. They’ll cover for each other.”

“Are you saying that you think it’s a hopeless cause?”

He shrugged. “The fact is, the bureau has never done
well against individuals or groups that have wide-spread support in the community. We still have a few fugitives running around in the wilderness back East because local sympathizers make sure they get whatever supplies they need.”

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not the same situation here.”

“Are you trying to tell me that the Fierce Ones don’t have an enormous amount of clout?” Blalock gave her
a skeptical look.

“No, I’m not saying that at all. I know better. What I’m saying is that there’s a possibility they’re being framed. These clues are pointing directly to them. Something about it stinks. None of these guys are stupid.”

The federal agent considered what she said for a long time before speaking. “You may be too close to this case, Clah.”

His words shouldn’t have surprised her.
Clifford’s association with that group was going to haunt her on this. “I’m just looking at how things have been laid out and following my gut instincts. This has nothing to do with a conflict of interest.”

“Okay. How do you want to handle things?”

“First, I’ll make a stop by the tribal paper. I’ll fill in Lulu—that’s in exchange for a bit of cooperation the paper’s given us. With luck, now
that they’ve had a chance to think about it, they’ll remember something extra about the caller.”

“Are you considering complying with the kidnappers’ demands and giving the paper that list of Anglos working on the reservation?”

“No way. We couldn’t get every name anyway, there are too many legal roadblocks to overcome. But we’ve got to look as if we’re willing to bargain, and we’re going to need
the paper’s continued cooperation to do that convincingly.”

“My advice is to make a big show out of considering their demands and trying to meet them. Have Chief Atcitty contact tribal leaders and get them to hold meetings on the issues. Then, in a week or so, have the paper report that they’re working on the list the kidnappers wanted, but they have to find a way to avoid legal repercussions
before printing it.” He paused, then added, “The operative word is
stall.
”

Ella led the way back to her vehicle. “You want to ride with me or the other way around? It doesn’t really matter at the paper, but it may be a plus at the Yellowhairs’ if we arrive together.”

“Will your unit be safe here?”

“I can arrange for one of our people to drive the Jeep back to the station.”

Blalock considered
it for a moment, then nodded. “That’s probably the best thing all the way around.”

Ella handed the keys to Tache and asked him to drive her Jeep back, then they got underway. They rode in silence, Blalock staring at the passing desert, lost in his own thoughts.

“Are you still looking forward to retirement, Dwayne?”

“Oh, sure,” Blalock smiled. “I’ve got four more years, but when you add up all
the time I’ve already been with the bureau, it doesn’t seem so long.”

“Won’t having all that time on your hands drive you crazy?”

“Funny you should say that. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately myself. Originally, I’d thought of retirement as something that would open new doors for me. I’d intended on starting a new career, maybe private investigation or security consulting. A lot
of ex-agents do that.”

“Do I hear a ‘but’ in there someplace?”

“Well, it’s dawned on me recently that I’ll be in my mid-fifties, and I probably won’t want to start a new career at that stage in my life. Opening my own business would take a lot of hard work, and risk my savings.”

“You could work for an existing firm.” Ella suggested.

“Yeah, but I’m used to working on my own out here. As a resident
agent I have a certain amount of autonomy. I haven’t punched the clock in a long time.”

“I hear you,” Ella said. “So, what you’re really wondering is if you should stay in, even after you reach the magic number.”

“Yeah,” he nodded at last. “Pretty stupid, huh? I spent the last ten years looking forward to retirement, and now I don’t think I want it nearly as badly as I used to.”

“That’s the
way life is. Just when you think you have everything figured out, something new comes along to change your outlook.”

“Leaving the bureau worked out really well for you, didn’t it? You ended up with a good job close to your home, where you can call most of your own shots.”

“I knew I was needed here, even if no one else was aware of it at the time,” she added with a tiny smile. “But I didn’t have
as many years in the bureau as you do, either. The change was easier for me on a number of counts.”

Once again silence stretched out between them. Ella’s gaze drifted to the towering line of weathered peaks that stretched out in the western horizon, making it look as if they were moving into a wall of stone. The wind had risen now, and the whistling of the air rushing past the car rose to a crescendo,
then settled quickly to a dull hum, only to rise again.

As they pulled in to the office of the tribal paper, clustered among other tribal offices in the red-orange sandstone hills around Window Rock, she felt Blalock tense up.

“What’s up? You allergic to the press all of a sudden?” She teased.

“Something like that. For what it’s worth, Ella, I wouldn’t trust any of them to keep a story under
wraps for long, especially if they think a rival reporter is about to scoop them.”

“I’ve learned the hard way, when my mother was hit by the drunk driver, who to trust at this newspaper. I’ll talk to the editor-in-chief. She and I go back quite a ways. She won’t endanger anyone by printing a list like that but, you’re right, news is news, and I can’t expect them to sit on the rest of it forever.
The way I figure it, I’ve got one bargaining chip. I can offer them a chance to get the full story first, after the case is wrapped up, and selected bits and pieces in the interim in exchange for their continued cooperation. I think they’ll go for it.”

As Blalock and Ella walked inside the newspaper office, she could feel the tension in the room. People stopped working for a second as they noticed
two law enforcement officers had just entered. They knew a story was brewing and the excitement was akin to that at the police station before a big bust.

Lulu hurried out from her office at the back to meet Ella. “I’ve been waiting for you. You promised to let me know what was in the note.” Lulu nodded in greeting to Blalock, who simply nodded back.

“Can you get Jaime? We need to have a meeting,”
Ella said.

Lulu hesitated a second, obviously not wanting to take second place, but then agreed and led Ella and Agent Blalock into her editor-in-chief’s office. After making sure everyone had chairs, the reporter deferred to Jaime’s position.

Jaime was Ella’s age, but at least twenty pounds heavier and a foot shorter. She was dressed in what some jokingly referred to as Reservation Chic—a checkered
flannel shirt and jeans. Her expression was guarded as she acknowledged Blalock with a nod and then focused her attention on Ella. “I understand you made a deal with Lulu. She gave you information and now it’s your turn to reciprocate.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Ella said, giving them the details of the letter. “You can print everything except for an actual list, which you probably know we can’t
provide anyway. Are we in agreement on that?”

Jaime toyed with the silver and turquoise ring she wore on her right hand. “When we don’t publish a list, how will that affect the welfare of Senator Yellowhair?”

“What you have to ask yourself, is how it will affect the lives of the people whose names you did print,” Blalock said. “Also, what about the jobs of those here at the newspaper if the
Anglos listed decided to file suit against the tribe?”

Jaime mulled it over. “You realize that they’re bound to know some of the names already, like the new preacher at the Christian church, and the university students who are interning at the hospital. They’re all pretty much high profile.”