Wind Spirit [Ella Clah 10] (22 page)

“But that’s not the way it went down,” she said, absently taking another piece of the crispie. “There were plenty of cops at the scene who can verify that.”

Wilson nodded. “And it’s not uncommon for criminals trapped by police to take their own lives. Anyone who reads the newspaper knows that. Either way, what amounts to gossip and character assassination of a Tribal Police officer isn’t an appropriate subject for an organic chemistry professor. Academic freedom isn’t even close to an issue there either. That’s why he was reprimanded, but personally I don’t think it’ll shut him up. He’ll just be more careful of who he says it to. I heard that he’s asked all his students to help you locate John Tso, unofficially, of course.”

As Ella took another piece of the crispie, Wilson slid it over to her. “Take it,” he said.

“No, thanks. I’m just not hungry.”

Wilson stared at her skeptically, but Ella continued, ignoring his reaction. “I
can
use help in tracking down John Tso, so maybe this is a blessing in disguise.” She took another small piece of the crispie.

Wilson looked down at what was left of the remaining sweet roll. “There’s just a tiny piece left. Why don’t you take it?”

Ella looked down at it. “Okay, I give in. A little bit won’t hurt.” She finished what was left of the crispie in one bite, then stood. “Listen, you really should cut back on these homemade sweets. I bet they’re loaded with cholesterol.”

Wilson scowled at her. “Recently I’ve been eating fewer of them.”

“I have to find Professor Garnenez. His office is in this building, right?”

“Yes, but first try the faculty lounge down the hall. He likes to grade papers there. He says that if he stays in his office he’s constantly interrupted by students with questions, even if it’s not during posted office hours.”

“Why doesn’t he just lock the door?”

“I gather it breaks his concentration when people knock,” he answered, then shrugged. “Just between the two of us, the guy is a little strange.”

With a nod and a wave good-bye, Ella left his office and walked down the hall. The wonderful taste of the crispies still lingered in her mouth. She’d have to try to get some to take to the station one of these days.

Ella found the faculty room moments later and since the door was unlocked she walked inside. Professor Garnenez never glanced up until she pulled a chair out and sat across the table from him. The second he saw her, his expression changed from mild annoyance to horror and he scooted his chair back quickly.

“I’m sure you’d like me to leave as soon as possible, and I’ll be happy to oblige—after you answer a few questions for me.”

He moved his chair back another foot, then stood, reaching down to put his hand on the medicine pouch attached to
his belt. “You’re not supposed to be in here. This room is for faculty
only
.”

“And here I was thinking you’d be thanking me for not knocking.”

“What do you want?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Where were you last night at around eight?”

“At home.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

He stared at her. “Why? Am I some kind of suspect?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I was alone,” he said, then shook his head. “No, wait, I did go to the Quick Stop for a while, I think.”

“Will the clerk remember seeing you there?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” he said coldly. “One Navajo doesn’t speak for another.”

Ella held his gaze, saying nothing but thinking to herself what a hypocrite he was, using Navajo customs just when they suited him. He’d been spreading gossip about her all over the place, including, probably, the insinuation that she was a skinwalker candidate.

“Look, I don’t know what this is about,” Garnenez said at long last. “All I can tell you is that I stayed here working late, then went by the store on my way home. It must have been about eight or so.”

Ella made a note to check it out later, then stood. “Thank you for your cooperation.” She started toward the door, then turned with a sly smile. “Find any actual flint for that pouch of yours?”

His return gaze was laser-sharp. “With someone like you around? Of course.” Garnenez reached down to his medicine pouch again to make the point.

Ella headed out to the Quick Stop. She’d go there first, then after she finished, on to her brother’s. Maybe he’d finally turned up something on John Tso’s whereabouts.

As she drove down the highway, Ella’s thoughts drifted and she thought about Emily’s coaching and her orchids. Her own life just wasn’t structured for a hobby because her free time was best spent with her daughter. Considering Dawn’s interest in horses, Ella wondered if she could make time to take up riding again. That would allow her to share in her daughter’s favorite activity and to spend quality time with her.

Lost in thought, Ella stared across the mesas and canyons of the region known as the Colorado Plateau. The morning light was warm and bright. It was a cloudless day, and only a faint breeze stirred the branches of the hardy sagebrush and thin clumps of grass that dotted the ground all too sparsely. Yet as peaceful as it was now, by this afternoon the wind would invariably rise and gust at thirty miles an hour or more. Dust and sand would fly, tempers would get thin, and calls to the station would increase. There was always a correlation between the crime rate and the movement of the thermometer and other weather factors.

Ella arrived at the Quick Stop less than fifteen minutes later. As she stepped through the doors, she discovered an old high school friend of hers behind the counter. Juanita Franklin had played on the Shiprock High Lady Chieftains basketball team. They’d made state their senior year and memories like that were hard to forget.

Juanita had put on a good fifty pounds since high school, but her face held a youthful quality that was accentuated by her dimples. “Hey, Ella! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, girl. What brings you here? You playing hooky from work?”

“Don’t I wish!” Ella said, laughing as Juanita and she exchanged high-fives. “I’m here working a case. I need to talk to whoever was behind the cash register last night. Did you work that shift?”

“No, on Tuesdays it’s usually my brother, Clyde. What’s he done now?” she asked, instantly worried.

“Not a thing that I know of. I just need to verify something with him. Any idea where I might find him?”

“He’s in the back,” she said, gesturing Navajo style by pursing her lips toward the rear of the store. “He’s putting away some crates. Do you want me to call him out?”

“Nah, I can go back there if it’s okay and talk to him while he works,” she said.

“That’s fine.”

Ella found Clyde transferring cases of canned goods from a wheeled cart to a pallet against the wall. Clyde had been two years ahead of Ella in school and she’d had a crush on him for months. He’d been the quarterback of the Chieftains football team.

Seeing her, he smiled. “Hey, Ella. I haven’t seen you in ages!” He gave her a friendly hug, something traditionalists would never have done.

“It’s been a long, long time,” she agreed.

“What brings you here today? Are you looking for a job?”

Ella laughed. “No, I’ve already got one,” she said, pushing back her jacket and revealing her badge and handgun.

“Hey, I know all about that,” he answered with a grin. “I’m just having fun with you. Don’t shoot!”

Ella laughed.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, still smiling.

“I needed to ask you a few questions. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” He waved her to a stack of crates about three feet off the ground. “Have a seat.”

As he leaned back against the wall, Ella studied him. She’d heard that Clyde and his wife had six kids now and another on the way. She wasn’t sure how he made ends meet just working here at the Quick Stop, or how he managed to stay so cheerful. Raising six kids was expensive, even on the Rez where people had learned to get by with just the basics. Raising one child was hard enough.

“Do you remember seeing Professor Garnenez in here lately?”

Clyde nodded. “Yeah, a real night owl, if you’ll pardon the expression. He comes by almost every night on the way home. Sometimes, when there are no customers waiting, he and I will play a quick game of chess. He teaches at the college, but I don’t think he’s got that many friends.”

Ella caught his reference to owls, which, due to their tendency to hunt at night, had a bad reputation among traditionalists. “Do you remember if he was in here last night, and if so, about what time?”

“Let me think about it. The days all seem to flow together sometimes, you know? Don’t get much rest nowadays.”

Ella nodded, realling that three of Clyde’s kids were still too young for school.

“I think he was here last night. Yeah, it must have been at right around eight. I remember because I was planning on catching the new TV series about the cop who hears people’s thoughts. It was part two, so I really wanted to see it.” He exhaled loudly. “But I felt sorry for him, so I turned the volume down and we had a game of chess instead.”

“How long was he here?”

“About an hour and a half. The show lasts an hour, and he didn’t leave until the next show had started and was about halfway through. I wouldn’t have missed my show at all if I’d tried to lose the match, but you know me, I’ve always been too competitive.”

She smiled and nodded. “What do you know about Professor Garnenez?” Ella asked.

“Just what I get from him, which is not a lot. He lives alone way over past Bloomfield, and has that romantic notion about following in the path of the
Dineh
.”

“I’m not sure I get what you mean,” Ella said.

“He’s like the majority of new traditionalists. They want the old ways back—with plenty of modern ideas thrown in.
But Garnenez seems a little more dedicated to the goal than most,” he added with a shrug.

“Okay, thanks for your help.”

“Take care, Ella.”

Ella drove away from the Quick Stop disappointed that Garnenez actually seemed to have a good alibi. The truth was that she’d wanted it to be Garnenez. The man gave her the serious creeps and to haul him in for assault on a police officer would have been very satisfying. But her cases never seemed to be that straightforward and easy. Maybe Benally or Lewis Hunt would turn out to be the ones behind the attack.

Ella glanced at her watch, wishing she’d stopped to buy some of those crispies
before
she’d left campus. It was nearly lunchtime now and she just realized she was hungry. Thinking about returning to the Quick Stop, she quickly rejected the idea of a snow cone or gooey nachos and a soft drink.

Instead, Ella stopped at a fast food place just past the old bridge on the west side and picked up a hamburger and cola. She’d intended to eat it as she drove to her brother’s place, but after taking one bite she tossed it back inside the paper sack. It was completely tasteless and she’d forgotten to have them add green chile. Maybe Two would enjoy it. He wasn’t quite as picky about his food. At least she had the cola.

As Ella headed south in the general direction of her brother’s home she thought about how different Clifford and she were from each other. Clifford was a respected
hataalii
and the old ways came as naturally to him as breathing. He’d spent years learning the proper Sings. Those had to be perfectly memorized, not an easy task considering Sings often lasted eight to ten days. Any mistake, however slight, meant incurring the disfavor or wrath of the gods.

Ella parked outside Clifford’s medicine hogan and waited. There was a gray mare tethered outside the blanketed entrance so she knew Clifford was with a patient. About ten
minutes later a young woman about Boots’s age came out, jumped up onto the horse’s back in one leisurely motion, then rode off.

Seeing Ella, Clifford waved, inviting her to approach. Ella joined him just as he was picking up the bags of herbs and the jars that were on the ground near the sheepskins. “What’s on your mind, Sister?”

“I was hoping you’d received some news about the Singer I need,” she said. Here, no proper names would be used out of respect for her brother’s traditionalist views.

“A few people have sent word to me that they’d seen him driving by their home, or campsite, but that’s about it. He’s clearly on the move. I’ve now left word everywhere I can think of asking people to tell him that I’m looking for him. I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

“He’s a hard man to catch. I’ve discovered that there are a lot of people trying to help me find him,” Ella said with a rueful smile, then told him what Professor Garnenez had apparently asked his students.

“His students may get somewhere with the search, but I wouldn’t count on the professor himself being able to help you. A man like the Singer you’re searching for would probably go out of his way to give the professor a wide berth. The professor is like many of our generation—caught between the old and the new. They aren’t comfortable in either world, so they try to walk a path between both. But, in my opinion, that’s an even harder road to travel. You understand that quite well, I’m sure.”

“All any of us can do is follow where our hearts lead us. What other choice do we have?” Ella asked rhetorically.