Shooting Chant (38 page)

She had her answer now, but who else had Martha Gene told? And if the livestock killings had not been done by traditionalists, had they been staged to divert the police away from something else going on?

“Does LabKote keep lab animals?” Ella asked.

“Animals?” Martha shook her head. “No, just all those fancy machines and stuff.”

“Are you sure? I mean have you been through
the entire plant?”

“Sure I have,” she said, then hesitated. “Well, almost all the plant. I’ve got clearance for most areas, you know, because my boss is the head of security.”

“What about the areas you haven’t seen? What’s there, did anyone tell you?”

“The only places I’m not allowed to go are the rooms where they try to culture germs on different samples of our products to see if they’ve really
been sterilized. That’s the simple explanation, mind you. When they tell it, it’s a lot more complicated.”

As they stood there, Ella saw a large semi come in and back up to the loading dock. “It sure looks like they’re doing a booming business.”

“It’s more than doubled just the last few days, but all the overtime won’t last. We’ve been told that next week the night shift won’t be working. The
company has to do routine maintenance on some of the machines, and the production line.”

“What kind of maintenance?”

“They clean, calibrate, and run tests on all the equipment. That sort of thing.”

Ella watched as two massive boxes were loaded up into the truck. “How big is your production line these days? Those boxes are a lot larger than the shipping containers I saw when I toured the place.”

“That’s not my department, so I don’t know. All I can tell you for sure is that the guys in packing and shipping were complaining because, even though they haven’t had to pack up the crates, they still have to load them up using dollies. They’re not supposed to use the forklifts.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but I guess the stuff inside is really fragile.”

“Do you like LabKote, and the way they do
business?” Ella asked.

“Yes, I really do. For an Anglo-run company, they really go out of their way to understand how things work for us here. Mr. Morgan is always asking me questions about people, about things, and our ways.”

“What about Dr. Landreth. Do you like him, too?”

“Funny you should ask me that. I was telling my husband the other day that even though he’s the boss, at least based
on job titles, it always seems to me that Mr. Morgan is the one in control. When people aren’t around, Dr. Landreth is always asking Mr. Morgan how to do this and that.”

“Scientific stuff?”

“No, the business end, like who he should contact in another company, and that type of thing. Mr. Morgan seems to know everyone who does business with LabKote and he’s always telling Dr. Landreth what to
ship and who gets priority delivery on orders.”

“Do they ever deal with toxic substances or anything like that?”

“Just the germs that sometimes show up if production screws up and stuff isn’t really sterile. They’ve been pulling a lot of stuff from the production line for quality control testing lately, too. But everything that isn’t safe gets put into the incinerator. Nothing and no one comes
out of those clean rooms without being sanitized, believe me. In that, Mr. Morgan and Dr. Landreth stand together. They have rules and no one is allowed to break those rules. You’re automatically fired if you get caught in the wrong section of the plant, or trying to get around the protocols. The clean rooms require electronic keys just to get inside.”

“Have you had any emergencies within the
past few months other than the Fierce Ones’ demonstration? I imagine you know pretty much all that goes on,” Ella pressed further, now that she had Martha talking.

“Well, I’m not supposed to talk about it, but Mr. Morgan did get upset about potential contamination during the animal exposition when one of the big doors came open accidentally. The machines shut down, of course, but there was this
lady standing there on the other side of the fence, and the guards had to ask her to move on. I heard she was working her horse, and the dust being kicked up was coming inside. I know they had to run the filters all night.” Martha shook her head.

“Who was the woman, did you ever hear?” Ella suspected it was Elisa Brownhat. The puzzle was now starting to come together a little more.

“I never
heard. Mr. Morgan knows, but don’t ask him. He’ll know where you heard about it. Okay?” Martha’s eyes grew larger. She obviously was afraid she’d gone too far.

“I won’t mention it to him,” Ella assured Martha, noting the woman was dressed in a comfortable-looking denim skirt and fleece sweatshirt. “Everyone seems to be dressed very casually today. It must be your hectic schedule.”

“That’s it,
exactly. Mr. Morgan said for everyone to dress comfortably. With all the overtime being put in, he’s hoping it will keep everyone relaxed and productive.” Martha smiled. “I like it.”

“Even Morgan himself is taking his advice. Doesn’t he usually wear dress shoes instead of sneakers?” Ella ventured.

“Naw. He’s a boot man usually. Some of the Rez must be getting into his blood.” Martha glanced
at her watch. “Oops. I’ve got to get going. I have less than forty minutes left of my lunch hour.”

Ella watched her drive away. As she turned around, a flash of light from behind a window at the LabKote plant caught her eye. She was almost sure that it had come from Morgan’s office and, although she’d only caught a glimpse, she suspected he’d used field glasses to keep an eye on them.

Ella walked
back to her vehicle, lost in thought. This case was turning out to be a bit like one of those cardboard tube kaleidoscopes she’d played with as a child. Every time she looked at things from a slightly different angle, what was right in front of her would change and become something completely different. She was anxious now to find out what was in those toxicology tests for Mrs. Brownhat. Had
the woman been accidentally exposed to radiation, and, if so, would it show up on tests?

Ella arrived back at the station a short time later. She was walking down the hall to her office when she saw Kevin coming out of the chief’s office.

He came up to greet her. “It looks like Manuelito will have an official reprimand put in his file, but won’t be suspended. Your brother didn’t want me to push
for that.”

“I’m glad the situation’s resolved,” she said, then waved him inside her office. “I’m also glad you’re here. There’s something I need to talk to you about concerning one of my cases.” She waited as he sat down then continued. “Because you’re an attorney for our tribe, I’d like to get your legal opinion. Listen to the evidence I’ve collected against LabKote and then tell me if you think
the tribe would support me if I decided to lean on them.”

“Do you think they’re doing something illegal?”

“I suspect something bad’s going on, but I haven’t got any proof. Let me bring you up to speed.” She recounted what she’d learned, including the possible exposure to Mrs. Brownhat.

He said nothing for a long time. “Everything you’ve got is circumstantial,” he said at last. “If you start
harassing Morgan or Landreth, or their staff, you’ll pay a higher price than they will. They’ve got some powerful friends.”

“Or at least they did have. The two at the top of the list have been kidnapped.”

“By whom? You have nothing that clearly incriminates anyone. All you’ve got is based on hearsay—at most. Even positive tests of radiation exposure won’t prove Mrs. Brownhat was killed by someone
from that plant. If you go after LabKote in any major way, you’ll get sued naked.”

“So I’ll borrow your shirt and pants.”

“Then I’ll be naked.”

“Okay by me.”

Kevin laughed. “Okay, so what you really want me to do is stand by in case
you
need an attorney?”

“You bet. I’ve got a plan in mind, but it’ll be risky. I’m gong to see if I can get FB-Eyes, Carolyn Roanhorse, and Wilson Joe to help
me out.”

“You’re picking muscle from the FBI and people with science backgrounds? What are you after?”

“I’m still trying to work out the details of my plan, but the bottom line is we’ll be checking the cargo in the trucks leaving LabKote. Carolyn and Wilson will be able to tell me if there’s something weird about those shipments. We’re worried that LabKote could be covering up for an accident,
maybe even a radiation leak during the recent animal show.”

“That sounds very serious. Be careful how you do this, or any evidence you get will be completely useless in court.”

“I know. Maybe Blalock will be able to come up with a legal way to accomplish what we need, but we have to see what LabKote’s shipping in such large quantities and protecting so much.”

“You’ll be walking a fine line
trying to stay on this side of what’s legal. Let me know what you find out.”

She nodded. “Let me talk to Blalock. The FBI can be very good at finding ways around problems.”

TWENTY-TWO

A few hours later, Ella stood beside the highway just west of Hogback, inside the Rez borders. Blalock was there with the two men he’d handpicked—one a state policeman in uniform, and the other a drug enforcement agent with a black Labrador retriever trained to sniff out drugs.

The route north through the state from Mexico was an established pathway for drug smugglers, and it was
this that had ultimately provided them with the legal muscle they needed. A portable meth lab had also been reported to be in operation in the Four Corners area, and an all-out search was underway.

Blalock and Ella had chosen the location for their roadblock carefully, and it had been approved by the other participating agencies because the road farther up from them branched out and led to Arizona,
Colorado, and Utah. The bonus, as far as Ella was concerned, was that LabKote cargo trucks leaving the Rez went right past them and would therefore be subject to a search.

“Are you sure I have to wear this DEA jacket?” Carolyn grumbled. “The sleeves are too long.”

“Yes,” Blalock said. “Your presence here is official. As a doctor you’re more likely to spot lab paraphernalia, even if the perps
get creative. All the other personnel on this operation are assigned to other roadblocks east and south, where there’s a lot more traffic.”

“Not to mention that I need your expertise and Wilson’s to check out the stuff coming from LabKote,” Ella said, “because we’re not really looking for illegal drugs.”

Wilson Joe stood near Ella. “If there’s something off center here, Ella, we’ll find it,”
Wilson said, his voice soft. “Nothing gets past Carolyn, and I’ve worked around science equipment enough to know what an operation like LabKote should be shipping and receiving.”

Blalock, across from the civilians, glanced at Wilson and Carolyn. “But officially, this is a cooperative effort between agencies. I’ve worked with these guys before on drug interdiction operations and raids and, believe
me, they fully intend to do their job and search for drugs.”

He glanced over at the state policeman, who was watching the road with binoculars for approaching trucks. The DEA officer was still in his car with the dog.

Blalock continued. “This is the way it’ll go down. I’ll work with the DEA agent and state policeman and we’ll search outside of the trucks for drugs. Ella, you and the others will
check the cargo. We’ll run the dog around the outside, then move inside, but the dog is worked quickly, so you’ll have to do the same.”

They checked two interstate trucks before they finally got the chance they’d been waiting for. Soon they spotted the unmarked cargo truck that their lookout at Shiprock had reported was coming from LabKote. Ella put out a portable barrier and some traffic cones
while the state policeman lit a flare, and waved the truck down. The driver stopped and Blalock explained what they were doing.

“Hey, the stuff I carry is presterilized lab and surgical supplies for hospitals and such. If you contaminate it by opening up a package, it’ll have to go back,” the driver protested.

“We’ll just take a look at the cargo, then run our dog through. He can pick up the
scent of contraband without opening any packages. We’ll be careful,” Blalock said.

The driver was directed off the highway, and the barriers were removed from the road.

After the driver opened the back doors to the trailer, the state policeman took him aside to check his permits, license, and shipping paperwork. Wilson and Carolyn quickly climbed into the truck via a small ladder, and Ella followed
with an electric lantern. The large wooden packing crates caught their attention immediately. With Ella holding the light, Wilson and Carolyn checked the shipping labels, which were addressed to supply companies out of state.

“These aren’t the normal cardboard shipping boxes used for lab supplies and glassware,” Carolyn said, her voice low.

“They look more like frameworks to protect equipment,”
Wilson said. “Can you tell what’s in there through the spaces between the wooden slats?” he asked Carolyn.

“The control panel and label are covered by this board, so I can’t quite tell what it is,” Carolyn said.

“That board’s loose. Let me move it aside,” Wilson said.

“No, it’s not,” Carolyn said, testing it.

“Give me a minute.” Wilson gave it a vicious tug and pulled the plank loose. “Sure
it was. See? It came right off.”

Carolyn smiled. “My mistake.” She drew near and looked inside. “That’s a gamma ray generator.”

Wilson pried the lid open partway on another crate. “I have no idea what the heck that is. It looks like a big stainless steel kettle. There’s a pressure valve, so I might have said it was an autoclave, if it wasn’t so big.”

Carolyn took a close look. “It’s an autoclave,
all right, used to sterilize glassware and petri dishes in large quantities, like for a major biological research lab. Seems overkill for the LabKote operation, though.”

The DEA agent appeared with his dog. “You finished?”

“Yeah,” Ella said as Wilson pushed the boards on the crates back into position. A moment later, they went back down the ladder giving the agent room to work.