Changing Woman (31 page)

As they drove to Farmington, Ella telephoned Andrew using the number the chief had given her. “We’re coming to speak with you again.”

“Fine, but don’t come to the... here,” he said quickly. “This is my wife’s home now and I want it to
be a safe place for her and the girls. If someone follows you...”

“No one will.”

“I can’t take that chance,” he said flatly. “I’ll meet you at the coffee
shop in the mall on West Main.”

“All right.”

Ella passed the information on to Justine. “I want to find out why he gave that statement to the press. It was my impression he wasn’t going to resign unless he had no other alternative. If the blackmailer contacted him again we need to know.”

“Do you think that’s what happened?”

Ella shook her head. “I have a feeling he’s playing us—and the voters.”

“What he pulled was pretty convenient for him,” Justine agreed. “Let’s see what he has to say about it.”

By the time they arrived at the coffee shop, Andrew Talk was already there. He was wearing a baseball cap that shaded his face, and he’d traded his office clothes for a nylon ski jacket and jeans. He waved at them from a corner booth as they came in the front door.

“I’m glad you picked a
booth where we can have some privacy,” Ella said, sitting down and ordering some coffee from the waitress. “And I notice you’re dressing down.”

“And you two must shop at the same store.” He noted their matching dark blue vests, which outwardly looked like casual winter garb.

Talk waited until the waitress had refilled his cup and taken their order for coffee before he continued. “I figured you’d
want to talk to me after you heard the news. That’s why I told Big Ed where I’d be.”

“We appreciate that. Now tell me what happened. What prompted your sudden resignation?”

Talk expelled his breath in a soft whoosh. “There was no new threat, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to do something positive. My priority is the tribe, and I felt that the public needed to know
the
kinds of people involved in this divisive issue. If they tried to blackmail me, you can bet they’re doing the same thing to some of the others, too. The
Dineh
needed to know that. Maybe this will force the weasels who are trying these strong-arm tactics to back off. If it does, then it was worth the cost.”

“You speak of ’they.’ What makes you think that there are others involved in the blackmail,
and not just one guy with a camera?” Ella asked.

Talk hesitated. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You’ve spoken to some of the other council members, haven’t you?” Ella’s gaze grew hard. “Don’t you dare pull this ’honor the good-ole-boy network’ bull. I’m investigating extortion, murder, and now political corruption. If you insist on playing games with me, you’re going to be slapped with obstruction
of justice. Am I making myself very clear?”

“Extremely,” Andrew said coldly. He paused, considering his words carefully. “I have reason to believe that there’s at least one more member of the council who’s being blackmailed. I don’t have any evidence to prove it, but I’ve heard a rumor that a pueblo woman has been passing the threats along to the councilman via meetings with his aide. These meetings
are short and usually clandestine.”

Ella knew Andrew was talking about Blueeyes and Kevin. Nevertheless, she went through the motions. “Who’s the councilman?”

“The rumors haven’t been specific about that.” “Then tell me who you suspect. Is it someone local, or are we talking about a councilman from the Arizona side of the Rez?”

He shook his head. “It’s your job to uncover what’s going on. I’ve
helped you all I can.” Andrew stood up and tossed several bills on the table. “And from now on, stay away from my family.”

“I may still have to talk to your wife.”

“Then meet with her at our attorney’s office,” he said
flatly, then looked through his wallet, picked out a business card, and threw it on the table. “She told me the kind of questions you asked her. I won’t have you talking to her
again unless an attorney is present.”

“Why are you so worried—if you have nothing to hide?”

“I’m a politician. I’ve learned never to underestimate the danger someone bucking for promotion can pose and the depths to which they can sink.”

Talk strode off before Ella could answer.

Justine looked at Ella. “You really pissed him off.” “That I did.”

“But you know what, boss? I don’t think he killed
Betty Nez. On the other hand, it’s pretty obvious he’s playing games. His resignation seems to be more political maneuvering than anything else. He’s probably hoping that after all’s said and done, he’ll come out looking like the tribe’s savior, and his constituents will be begging for him to run for office.”

Ella smiled. “What a cynic. I didn’t think you had it in you, cousin.”

“One of the
first things you learn as a cop is that if you assume the worst, you’ll probably be right.” Justine stopped and added, “Of course, you also learn other useful things, like placing a gun back in the holster with your finger on the trigger will cause you to walk with a limp.”

Ella laughed and stood, ready to leave. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw three men entering the coffee shop.
She smiled immediately, recognizing the man leading the way. It was her old boss from L.A., Special-Agent-in-Charge Henry Estrada. She stepped in his direction, then stopped and turned away as she realized that the two Indian men with him weren’t Navajos or people she recognized.

“What’s up?” Justine asked softly.

Ella shook her head and walked to the cash register, trying to come across as
casual. Henry had avoided looking
directly at her, yet he knew she was there. The answer to his strange behavior came to her suddenly, making her heart pound frantically and her palms break out in sweat. Henry Estrada was Coyote.

As she stood at the cash register, Ella looked around the room indifferently, careful not to let her excitement show in any way. She wanted to identify the men with
Henry, but one had his back to her and the other wore a cowboy hat that cast a shadow over his features. The only part of his face she could see clearly, his cheek, showed deep pockmarks. Henry was keeping watch while the other two men talked, behaving as if he were providing security.

As soon as they stepped outside, Justine looked at Ella. “What’s up? Is there something I should know about
the three who came in just as we were leaving the booth?”

She didn’t want to tell Justine what she knew about Coyote yet, so she answered cautiously. “I couldn’t see them clearly, but I saw enough to know that the one wearing the jeans, a leather sport coat, and expensive cowboy hat had pockmarks on his face. All in all he fits the description of the man who hired the two Anglos we arrested.
Remember my report?”

Justine nodded. “Let me go back inside. I can get a closer look as I pretend to leave a better tip at our table.”

Ella shook her head. She knew it would be too risky with Henry inside. “They may have seen our weapons and made us as cops. I’ve got a better plan. Let’s drive a little farther away, then stake out the shop. We’ll get their license plates as soon as they return
to their vehicle or vehicles. Then we’ll follow the guy with the pockmarked face.”

They waited for nearly an hour, but their patience finally paid off. Seeing all three men get into the same gray vehicle, Ella called in the license plate.

“The vehicle belongs to Four Corners Rental,” Dispatch told her within two minutes.

“Ten-four.” Ella glanced around the street, but there was very little traffic. “Follow them, Justine, but hang way back. There aren’t that many cars
around to blend in with.”

“If I stay back, we may lose them.”

“We have to take the chance,” Ella advised. “We can’t risk getting any closer, not without having them make us. But it looks as though they’re heading for Shiprock, and there’s only one direct route. We may have gotten lucky.”

They drove out from the edge of the city on the main highway, heading west toward the Rez. Justine hung
back, and Ella kept her eyes glued on the sedan a half mile or more ahead, determined to get a lead without compromising Coyote.

For the next ten minutes they kept at least one vehicle between them and the sedan, but then Justine had to hit the brakes and almost come to a stop to avoid a gasoline truck pulling out in front of them at Kirtland, a farming community east of Shiprock. As they waited
for a chance to get around the slowly accelerating truck, with a plodding van in the passing lane, the sedan disappeared over the next hill.

By the time Justine reached the crest of the hill, the
sedan was gone. Realizing the vehicle must have turned off onto one of the side roads, they headed south and drove into a residential area along the old two-lane highway.

“They couldn’t have made us,”
Justine said, unable to spot the sedan anywhere. “We were too far behind.”

“They may have suspected we were here,” Ella said, “or normally take circuitous routes and backtrack to throw off any potential tails. We underestimated them.” She wondered if Henry, worried that she’d compromise him, had tipped them off. He may have noticed the tribal unit behind them despite its being unmarked. He never
missed much, as she recalled, and he was driving the other two.

“Do you realize where we are?” Justine asked suddenly.

Ella glanced around and smiled. “We’re near George Branch’s house. Now, this is an interesting turn of events. Let’s make a pass by his place.”

“We’re still out of our jurisdiction,” Justine warned. “Do it anyway.”

They passed by the small farmhouse just east of the reservation
line a short time later, but although the flashy SUV the radio personality drove was there, the sedan they’d been following was nowhere in sight.

“Drive back toward Kirtland on the old road along the river valley,” Ella said, frustrated. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Though they were thorough, the search proved futile, and by the time they were on their way back to the Rez both of them had lapsed
into a heavy silence that continued until they arrived at the station.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and having skipped lunch, Ella stopped by the machines in the lobby and got a prepackaged sandwich. Although they always tasted like the cellophane they came wrapped in, it was better than nothing.

Back at her desk, Ella checked with the car rental
company and learned that they didn’t
own a gray sedan the make and model she described, only white ones. The rental sticker and the license plate turned out to have been stolen from one of their vehicles. The news didn’t surprise her. Somehow she’d expected them to throw her a curveball.

Justine came in a moment later and Ella filled her in. “Figures,” Justine muttered. “Talk about a useless lead. Should we put out a bulletin on
the car?”

Ella shook her head. “Try it, but only by word of mouth, land line, or cell phone, even if it takes a while. They’ve probably already changed the tags again, or dumped the vehicle. And make sure our officers don’t move in if they do find these guys. We want more on them than auto theft.”

Ella leaned back in her chair, mulling over the morning’s events as Justine put out the report.
As soon as Justine was finished, Ella glanced at her. “You came to tell me something. What’s up?”

“I wanted to let you know that I’ll be away for a few hours.”

“How come?”

“I’m going to the pistol range and see if I can qualify with my weapon.”

Ella nodded. “Have you had any time to practice?” “Some,” she said. “And I’ve been doing a lot of dry firing to get comfortable with my new grip. But
if I don’t feel ready after I get there, or I have a bad day, Sergeant Hobson will let me try again in a few weeks.”

“Just do your best, Justine. I know you can do it. Just let your natural confidence take over.”

Ten minutes later, Ella was working at her desk when a call came in through her cell phone.

“You know who this is, right?” a man’s voice asked. “Coyote,” she said, instantly recognizing
Henry’s voice, but not wanting to use his name in case he was using an unsecured phone.

“Exactly. Thanks for not tipping my hand today.”

“It was one heck of a surprise,” she said honestly. Now she knew for sure how Coyote had known so much about her past and her days in the FBI, and also how he knew her unlisted cell number. “Have you got something new for me?”

“Not yet. But I need you to back
off. Don’t try to find me. Things are tense right now, and one slip is all it’ll take to get me killed. In fact—” There was a long pause, then a hurried, “Gotta go.”

Ella heard the sudden change in his voice, but there was no time to ask him what was wrong before he hung up. Telling herself that he knew where to find her, and that he was smart enough to request emergency backup if he needed it,
she forced herself to try to relax.

Henry—Coyote—probably didn’t know the real names of the men he was with, and they obviously didn’t know his. Her guess was that he’d put himself in a position to be recruited as a bodyguard and muscle, which explained both his behavior in the coffee shop and his lack of specific knowledge about their plans.

In the meantime, she had a job to do. Ella drove
to Agent Blalock’s new office. Now that the tribe had given him a suite in the tribal offices building, he was easier to reach.

He sat behind his desk, sorting through a stack of files at least two feet tall.

“Why don’t you file some of those, Dwayne? You’d be able to track down the ones you need a lot faster.”

He looked up and gave her a grin. “They
were
filed, but I’m trying to put a crime
report together for the Bureau. These reports are a pain in the butt. They want statistics that I never have just so some bean counter can put the data into a computer, then hide it in an obscure file no one will ever read.”

She sat down across his desk. “At least the Bureau gave you a fancy new office to work in.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t come to compliment the decor,” he said, watching her. “What’s
going on?”