Wind Spirit [Ella Clah 10] (16 page)

A few minutes later, after the noise had died down again somewhat, Sheriff Taylor ran over to join her. “It’s not as bad as what you all encountered at Smiley’s place. There haven’t been any big explosions, but no one can get close because of the arsenal he kept in his house.”

“Who decided to play torpedo with the Dodge Stratus?” Ella asked.

“The fire has obscured some of the tag, so all we have is a partial. Once it’s safe, we can go take a closer look. Whoever was driving either bailed or is extremely dead.”

“Where’s Branch?”

Taylor pointed. “Behind the house in the orchard, still in the Mercedes. Special Agent Payestewa came down from Farmington as soon as he heard the call. He questioned Branch immediately when he got here, but the only substantial thing we got was that Branch saw a truck speeding away from here when he ran outside. That was just after the Dodge went through the front wall.”

“Interesting. So we’re talking two suspects doing a smash and grab on a residence. Vehicle number two was for the getaway. Were any guns stolen? Did Branch take a look before he had to leave the structure?”

“I don’t know. We need to continue to interview him, but we thought we’d give him a few minutes to get himself together before we try again.” Taylor shook his head sadly. “I understand the man had a lot of historic weapons in there. Hate to see them go like this.”

“I saw a few one time. Quality firearms, all right. If you’re willing, I’ll continue the interview with Branch. I may be able to get something else from him we can use.”

“Give it a shot then.”

As Ella approached the luxury sedan parked beside a gnarled old apple tree gray with age, she saw Branch’s face. He was still in shock. He was staring at the fire, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

She came over and tapped on the passenger-side window with her knuckle.

Branch jumped. Seeing it was her, he relaxed and nodded. “Get in.”

Ella opened the door and sat down on the plush leather seat. A Mercedes even smelled classy. As she looked over at Branch she noticed that his face was the color of ashes and his breathing unsteady. Wondering if he was all right, she watched him carefully. Branch was a large, heavy man and years of carrying that much bulk around couldn’t have done
his heart any good. For the first time in her life she felt a little sorry for him.

“Do you want me to call the paramedics to check you out? This must have scared you witless.”

“It did, but I’m okay. Don’t call anyone.”

“Were you in bed when it happened?”

“No, flannel pajamas and slippers are this year’s sportswear,” he snapped. “What else do you think I’d be doing at six-thirty in the morning, for Pete’s sake! I was sound asleep, then I heard what I thought was a crack of thunder so loud it made the house shake. When I came out of the bedroom I saw the car right there in my living room. Dust was everywhere and the damn engine was still running. I was so pissed off I went over to drag the driver out of the car. He was already gone. I ran outside to look for him and that’s when I saw a truck speeding off.”

“So you went back inside, right?”

Branch nodded. “But the living room was on fire by then. I grabbed my cell phone from the kitchen counter and ran back outside to call the police and fire department. After that, I walked around the house to see if there was some way I could go back in and save something. But the smoke was too thick.”

“People don’t usually ram somebody’s house with their vehicles on purpose, but then again, you have a knack for pissing people off. Any thoughts on that?”

“Well, there’s no way this could have been an accident. My house is a hundred yards from the road, and anyone losing control on the highway would have crashed through the fence at the angle they left the road. Besides, the driver had somebody waiting for him so he could make a getaway.”

“I agree. So do you have any idea who might have done this?”

“No, not really.” As he shook his head a rivulet of perspiration
ran down his forehead. He wiped it away impatiently with the back of his hand. “Don’t just sit there,” he said, shifting restlessly. “Go and find the lunatic who demolished my life. Everything I’ve worked for was inside that house. My gun collection alone represents twenty years’ worth of acquisitions.”

“Did you notice if anything was taken from your home after the car hit?”

“None of the gun cabinets had been opened, though flying debris had broken some of the glass fronts. The TV and sound systems were still there, that’s where the sparks were coming from. Everything happened so fast.” Branch gave a long sigh and wiped the perspiration from his forehead again.

It was cool in the car, so the heat wasn’t a factor here. “Just relax and take deep breaths,” she said, concerned. “I’ll call a rescue unit and let the EMTs take a look at you. It can’t hurt.”

“Clah, I’m fine. Give it a rest. What I need now is a little justice for the crime that’s been committed against me.”

Ella focused on his breathing and realized it was more uneven now. “You’re a heavy man. All this stress . . .”

“What are you trying to do, harass me into having a heart attack? If I were out of the way it would make things a lot easier for touchy-feely cops like you.”

The biting comment, though typical of Branch, irritated her enough to drive away any compassion she’d felt. “Have it your way.”

As she climbed out of the car and walked back toward the fire truck, Sheriff Taylor came up to meet her. “No more ammo has gone off for a while and the fire crew is making some progress. We should be able to go in and take a look around within fifteen minutes or so.”

“Great.”

“What did you get from Branch?” he asked, his gaze on the firemen manning hoses and attacking the fire.

Ella told him what she’d learned and the likelihood that robbery wasn’t a motive. “What about the plates on the Dodge? Have you got anything on that yet?”

“Yeah. The vehicle’s registered to Arlene Hunt. She’s the dead woman from Waterflow, right?”

“Yeah. We can safely say she wasn’t driving,” Ella noted acerbically. “Arlene was in a wheelchair so I don’t know if she could drive at all. My guess is that this is the second vehicle that the nurse’s aide, Louise Sorrelhorse, drove. But I do remember Louise saying that Arlene’s brother, Cardell Benally, borrowed it from time to time.”

“How fast can you check on both their whereabouts?” Taylor asked.

“I’ll do it right now,” Ella said, then called Justine and told her what she needed.

“I’ll get on it,” Justine answered, then disconnected.

As Ella put the phone away she glanced around. There was another house close to the highway beside the road leading to Branch’s home. That’s where she wanted to go next, but she was out of her jurisdiction. “I’d like to talk to the residents of that house,” she said to the sheriff and pointed.

“Okay, but take one of my deputies just to keep it legal,” he said.

“How about her?” Ella asked, pointing to a woman deputy who was studying the ground searching for evidence.

“Sergeant Emily Marquez is a top-notch cop. She patrols this sector now and our new policy has field officers actively involved in investigating crimes committed in their areas.”

As she walked toward Sergeant Marquez, Ella heard one of the firemen mumble something about “Detective Lazarus.” Ella exhaled softly. So the stories had followed her out here, too. Hopefully, she’d be old news soon and comments like that would stop once and for all.

“Hi, I’m Investigator Ella Clah from the Tribal Police,” Ella said, offering Emily her hand.

Emily shook it and smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you lately.”

Ella decided not to comment. “I’d like you to accompany me for a few minutes. I want to question the neighbors and find out if they saw anything. Will what you’re doing wait?”

“Yeah. I’m just searching for footprints, and others can do that just as well. We know that the driver climbed out of the car once he crashed through the wall. Since there was no gap between the car and the wall for him to slip out, he escaped through the front door.”

“This won’t take long,” Ella said.

“Did Sheriff Taylor okay this?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t,” Ella said. “You ready to roll?”

“That’s my cruiser,” Marquez said, pointing to a county squad car less than twenty feet away.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay. Hey, since we’re riding together, do you think some of your incredibly good luck will rub off on me? I heard all about you and that accident at the mine.”

Ella looked at her in surprise, noting the difference between Anglo and Navajo ways, then laughed. “If I’d been really lucky, I wouldn’t have fallen into that mine in the first place.”

“Good point,” Emily said, chuckling as they climbed into the county car.

As they drove up the bumpy gravel road Ella glanced over at Emily Marquez. Her blond hair was wrapped up in a tight bun at the base of her neck. It was a severe hairstyle, but Ella had a feeling she was trying to downplay the fact that she was pretty. Good looks weren’t always a plus when working in a department filled with men. As a sergeant, she undoubtedly was far more concerned about commanding respect.

“You must have worked pretty hard to earn those,” Ella said, gesturing to her stripes.

Emily gave Ella a guarded look, then realizing the compliment was sincere, relaxed. “I’ve chosen law enforcement. When you love what you do, you give it everything.”

Ella nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way about my work.”

Emily glanced at Ella’s hands. “Which is probably why neither of us is great marriage material.”

Ella smiled. “I have a little girl. That and my job is all I can handle. No more kids for me, even if I do get married again.”

Emily nodded, her eyes on the dirt track ahead. “I had a daughter, but she passed away before she turned one. A blood disorder,” she added, her voice taut.

When they exchanged a glance, Ella saw the depth of her loss mirrored in her eyes and her heart went out to her.

“That was a long time ago. Now I have my work,” Emily said.

“There have been times in my life when working was all that kept me sane,” Ella said, remembering the death of her father. But what Emily had gone through was in many ways far worse. The loss of a child upset the natural order of things. No preparation could ever be sufficient. No matter how well Emily seemed to cope, as a mother, Ella knew that Emily lived with a hole in the place where her heart had been.

As if reading her mind, Emily added, “At first you think you’ll never get over it. You can’t understand how time continues to tick or why the sun continues to rise. But, eventually, you go on.”

But you’re never the same, Ella added silently.

“I’m active with kids in a different way now,” Emily said, her voice stronger now. “I coach a girls soccer team and they’re a terrific bunch. You should see my girls play.” They
pulled up in the driveway of the house by the main road and Officer Marquez parked, turning off the engine.

“It’s too bad I didn’t know you before my kid got interested in horses. Believe me, I would have much rather bought her a soccer uniform and ball than a pony.”

Emily laughed. “We should get together sometime. You can teach me about horses and I’ll teach you about coaching soccer.”

“You’re on.”

As Emily and Ella stepped out of the car, a middle-aged Anglo woman came out her front door and stood on the porch.

“I saw the fire and heard the commotion, Officers. What’s going on? Is George all right?”

“Mr. Branch wasn’t injured,” Ella replied. “The fire began after someone rammed a car into the front of his house. The driver got away in a second truck. Were you up at the time, and did you happen to see a pickup go by your home right after the first disturbance?”

“I was and did. My husband leaves for work at seven so we’re up early. A truck came past here from the direction of his house, cut the corner, then went up onto the highway, tires squealing. I know he cut the corner because he broke off the corner fence post of my garden.” The woman pointed to the square post, which was hanging from the wire now.

“I ran outside and managed to catch a glimpse of the license plate,” she continued, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. “Here. I wrote it down.” She handed the paper to Ella. “I have no idea if these are the same people who are responsible for what happened at George’s place, but I saw them hit my fence, and they can’t weasel out of that.”

“How many people were in the pickup?”

“Two, but I can’t tell you if they were men or women, or one of each. I didn’t get a close enough look. It happened too fast.”

“What color was the pickup and did it have any distinguishing marks?” Ella asked.

“It was old and dark brown. There might be some paint scraped off onto my fence post,” she said and pointed. “But I got you the license plate. Isn’t that enough to catch them?”

“Usually, but sometimes people steal license plates and put them on different vehicles—particularly if they’re about to commit a crime.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” she said.