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Authors: David Thurlo

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Emily looked at Ella, then at Kevin. Slowly, her smile faded and the light went out of her eyes. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” She led them to the couch. “Is it my husband?”

As Ella delivered the news, the color drained out of Mrs. Redhouse’s face, and she seemed to age ten years in an instant. She stared at them for a moment, then sagged back against
the couch. “Murdered? But how? And why?”

“We don’t know yet. It appears to have started as a robbery. But there could be another reason as well. We’ve just begun investigating.”

Emily shook her head. “I warned my husband not to carry so much money around. Someone must have seen him with his wallet out. Is that what happened?”

“How much money are you talking about?” Ella asked.

“Several hundred,
at times. When I saw him pay for something the other day, I was surprised at all the cash. He gave me three hundred dollars right then, and told me that he’d left the checkbook in the car a few times and had decided that carrying cash was safer. I guess it wasn’t,” she whispered.

“Does anyone else besides you know about your husband’s new habit?” Ella wondered.

Kevin looked at her curiously,
but didn’t speak.

Emily shook her head. “He always keeps his wallet low, below the counter, when taking money out, like when he’s in stores. But maybe somebody else noticed. I don’t understand any of this,” she said, as a tear spilled down her cheek.

All Ella was able to learn from Emily after that was that Billy stopped at the Quick Stop on the way home every evening to pick up a pack of cigarettes,
and sometimes a loaf of bread if she needed it. When she got to that point Emily started sobbing, and Kevin offered her his handkerchief.

Excusing herself for the moment, but promising to return later if any more news developed, Ella slipped quietly out the door, leaving Kevin to comfort the woman.

 

The following morning Ella and her team met in the chief’s office. The murder of a councilman
was now big news in the Four Corners and across the Rez, and pressure to find the killer had already started coming down on the department.

Ella made a complete report, then waited. “Since the councilman’s expensive car wasn’t taken, and there were no signs he tried to resist in any way—I don’t think this was a simple robbery gone wrong. I think it was a hit. My guess is that the actual store
robbery was strictly for show.”

“But the victim’s wife said he was in the habit of carrying a lot of cash, right?” Ralph Tache asked. “That’s a pretty good motive. And if the councilman was used to stopping by at a particular time, well, you couldn’t miss spotting that luxury sedan.”

“Then the robber would have probably waited for the councilman, instead of hitting the store first, wouldn’t
he?” Justine said.

“Good point.” Ralph nodded.

“I still want to know why the councilman had taken up the habit of carrying so much cash,” Big Ed said. “To me, it suggests he’d come into a lot of money he didn’t want showing up in a bank account.”

Ella nodded. “I’d thought about that. Maybe Redhouse was being bribed. He certainly could afford expensive transportation.”

“Or just doing something
illegal that was lining his pockets with money,” Big Ed added. “Government officials, money under the table…it all sounds too familiar. Check into it, Shorty.”

Ella nodded. “Will do. What about the murder weapon, Justine?”

“I did a comparison between the bullet that killed Officer Franklin and the one recovered from the councilman’s Lincoln. They appear to match, though I can’t be one hundred
percent sure because the second bullet was really disfigured when it struck metal. But if this was the same shooter, which seems likely, does that mean the first murder was definitely not the result of a burglary gone bad?” Justine said.

“There’s no way we can say for sure yet, especially if we take into account the amount of money the councilman was carrying. The shooter at the Quick Stop was
wearing a mask, and I doubt the councilman recognized who it was. He shouldn’t have been killed, unless he refused to give up the car,” Ella replied.

“Why would he?” Tache added. “He gave up his wallet, we know that, because it was already out of his pocket before he was shot. Cars can be replaced, and I’m willing to bet the councilman had insurance.”

“Unless the motive is connected to something
which required the theft of a particular item from the garage, then, later, the death of the tribal councilman,” Ella said. “Remember, also, that two people were involved in the last crime, and there probably wasn’t a driver waiting in the car at the first crime. Officer Franklin would have seen him,” Ella said.

“I keep thinking of NEED. Remember the bumper sticker?” Justine added. “I’ve learned
the councilman was against it.”

The chief rocked back in his chair, as was his habit, then steepled his fingers, lost in thought. “The NEED issue has brought some very high-profile people—some who are for NEED and some against—to the foreground. But I can’t really see either side resorting to this kind of violence. We’re not dealing with hoods. So keep digging for a motive beyond burglary and
robbery. And add the thought of under-the-table money changing hands, and all the reasons for that. Don’t leave any stone unturned.”

When their meeting concluded, Justine and Tache left, but Big Ed called Ella back. “These two crimes, which are almost certainly connected, are now this department’s top priority. Do you need me to pull in anyone and add them to your team temporarily?” Big Ed asked.

“I’d like permission to pull Sergeant Neskahi in on a part-time basis whenever I need him.”

“Done.”

As Ella walked down the hall toward the station’s small forensics lab, her mind was occupied with thoughts about the investigation. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something.

Finding Justine, Ella motioned for her to follow. Once they were in Ella’s office, she closed the
door so they could speak freely without risk of being overheard. “I don’t want this to get out and damage anyone’s reputation needlessly,” she explained, “but I want warrants to search through Billy Redhouse’s home office
and
his tribal office in Shiprock. Warrants restricted to his papers, computers, and such will do. We want to see if he has any money stashed away, maybe something Emily doesn’t
or wasn’t supposed to know about.”

“I’ll get on that right now.”

As Justine left, Ella sat down at her desk and mentally reviewed all that had happened since Billy Redhouse’s murder. Recalling how Kevin had stayed to console Emily Redhouse last night, it occurred to her that she’d never seen him so compassionate or gentle with anyone.

She searched her feelings, trying to figure out if a part
of her was jealous because he’d been giving another woman so much attention, but that wasn’t it. What she felt was closer to sadness for what might have been. They just weren’t right for each other. But to say that she didn’t harbor any feelings for the father of her child would have been a lie. Kevin would always hold a special place in her heart.

As the phone rang, her thoughts shifted back
to the business at hand.

“It’s Blalock,” the FBI agent said, needlessly identifying himself. “Have you made any progress on the death of the patrolman?”

“Not really, but it’s possible the same shooter also offed Councilman Billy Redhouse. We’re looking into that as I speak. How about the background information I asked you for? I’d still like to know more about Professor Franklin’s missing years.
I know now that he worked on classified projects, and I’m thinking he may have made some enemies back then. Maybe one of those had a long memory and finally got even by killing his son.”

“That’s thin, Clah.”

“Not when you factor NEED into the equation. That’s bringing in all our area’s scientific talent for one big showdown.”

“Okay, I get it. But I’m still working on your request. I’ll shake
a few more trees and see what falls out. It’ll help if you can seal the tie to the Redhouse murder, so let me know, okay?”

“Will do.” Ella hung up the phone and went back to see Justine in the lab. “I’m on my way to talk to George Charley again. Maybe I’ll get incredibly lucky and find out that his vehicle is a match for the sedan at the crime scene, bumper sticker included. Or, if not, he may
be able to tell me which of his NEED supporters has a vehicle like that.”

“I think I should go with you. While he’s busy answering your questions, I may be able to take a look around.”

A short time later they arrived at the NEED office, which was, literally, just down the road. This time, Marie Betone was sitting behind the front desk, and the lights were on. She gave them an icy look as they
walked in.

“We need to see George,” Ella said.

“Is this official business? He’s awfully busy today.”

“It’s official.”

She nodded and went into the adjoining office, closing the door behind her.

Ella smiled ruefully at Justine. “I don’t think we’re going to win any popularity contests here.”

“She’s protective of George. Probably thinks we’re out to get him.”

Before she could reply, Marie
came back out. “You may go in. He’s cut his conference call short so he can speak with you.”

Ella went around her and Justine followed, closing the door behind her and leaving Marie in the other room.

George stood up as they came in, then gestured toward a couple of folding chairs as he sat back behind his cluttered desk.

“We need to ask you a few questions, Mr. Charley. We’ll be as brief as
possible,” Ella began.

“I’m having a lousy day anyway, so don’t worry—you can’t make it worse.” Seeing the questioning looks on their faces, he added, “My car was stolen last night.”

“Did you file a report?” Justine asked, “and tell your insurance company?”

He nodded. “Both—a few hours ago. I spent the night with a friend, and I didn’t realize my car was missing until then.”

“What make and
model was it?” Justine asked.

“An ’88 Ford Taurus. It’s sand-colored. I figured no one would be able to tell when it got dirty that way.”

“Any bumper stickers or other identifying marks on it?”

“Marks, no, but it’s got a NEED sticker on the rear bumper. The one promoting clean air with nuclear energy. Why do you ask?”

“A tan sedan was used in a vicious crime last night.”

He groaned. “Okay—I
take it back. You’ve just made the bad day I was having much worse. What kind of crime?”

“The murder of Tribal Councilman Billy Redhouse.”

George sat there with his mouth open for a while, then finally stood and walked to the bottle of antacids on top of the file cabinet, shaking his head.

Ella noted his Western-style boots. They were well made and a golden brown. She really couldn’t tell if
it was the same brand Justine had identified as having made the distinctive tracks at the crime scene. But the possibility was enough to make her want to take a closer look at George.

“Nice boots,” she said.

“Yeah. They’re real comfortable—” He glanced at her abruptly. “No, don’t tell me. The killer was wearing boots exactly like these—and no one saw his face, but they all remember his boots?”

“Not quite,” Ella said with a tiny smile.

“But close—tracks made from boots like yours were found at the crime scene,” Justine said.

“Things get better and better for me today, don’t they?” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “But listen, I don’t want NEED to suffer from any of this, so why don’t I save you some time? Take a look around here. When you finish with my office, I’ll personally give
you a guided tour of my home. I want to be off the suspect list as quickly as possible.”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but cooperating like this will help,” Ella said. “By the way, do you own any firearms?”

“A twenty-two single-shot rifle my father gave me when I was twelve. It’s in a closet somewhere at home, I think.”

“No pistols?” Ella prodded.

“No. I hate guns, actually. Kind of makes me
strange around here, huh?” George said with a shrug.

“Do you have an alibi for last night?”

Finally, he smiled a little and breathed a little sigh. “I was with Marie,” he said, motioning toward the other room. “You can ask her. She’ll verify it. We were at her place. Her neighbor saw us as well when we pulled in. That’s the reason I didn’t know my car had been stolen. We went home in her car.”

“Your left yours parked here last night, and that’s when it was stolen?”

He nodded. “I think someone’s trying to frame me, but my guess is that NEED is the real target. They’re attempting to discredit the project by discrediting its creator.” He stared at the floor, his hands clenching. “You better get started. If you need help finding anything, just let me know.” He sat down in a folding chair
and leaned back, staring at a color sketch of the proposed nuclear plant tacked up on the wall.

Ella began searching through his file cabinet while Justine checked his computer records.

Two hours later, Ella glanced over at Justine. George was now outside waiting for them to finish. “If George had a connection to Billy Redhouse, it isn’t apparent from anything I’ve seen,” she said. “No money
was being paid to George directly, and every dollar they spend here seems to be documented. Did you find anything?”

“No, and I think that between us we’ve looked in every computer file and record in this office. There’s that list of NEED opponents and their credentials that you found in his computer, but Redhouse isn’t on it—and the file hasn’t been altered recently,” Justine added.

Justine
went to the window. “I know I protested when George asked if he could go outside for some fresh air, but it looks like your instincts were right. He hasn’t run off or anything. He’s still out there playing the wounded party, and Marie is still with him. They both look like they’re freezing.”

“It made sense to let him do whatever made him comfortable, especially because he’s cooperated completely
without asking for a search warrant.” Ella glanced around the room lost in thought. “If he’s holding back something, I don’t know what it could be. Go ahead and motion for them to come back in now. We’re pretty much done here.”

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