Changing Woman (39 page)

Clifford took her into the medicine hogan where he had a small piñon
wood fire burning. He reached into a pine trunk and pulled out a cloth hood, “This is the one I used last year. There are certain things that we incorporated into it, like the shape of the eyeholes, that were meant to help us identify any infiltrators. I have a friend who knows the
Hasih
and how they think. He’ll tell me what I need to know. I’d like an hour or two. Can you give me that long,
or will you need the information sooner?”

“I plan to make my move at two in the morning.”

“Then be here by ten. I’ll help you get prepared for what you have to do.”

“Thanks, brother. I appreciate this.”

“Take your
jish,
your medicine pouch, tonight too.” He paused, then added, “How long has it been since you’ve worn it?”

Ella understood his question well. The medicine bag was seen as a repository
of power. But belief said that the
jish
had to be kept fresh and vital through use. To lock it up in a drawer would weaken it. “The truth is I’m not even sure where it is. I’ll have to search.”

“I’ll make one up for you,” he said. “At least you have your badger fetish—correct?”

“I wear it all the time.”

As Ella drove away, she thought of how different she and her brother were. She placed her
faith in her police skills and in the system that balanced crime with law. He believed in the gods and powers that brought order in the midst of chaos. Yet, in the final analysis, they both sought harmony and
hózhq,
a state of blessedness that became a tangible reality when the heart was receptive to the beautiful and the good.

Ella arrived at the police station a half hour later. It occurred
to her that the rifle used to shoot at her again, at the mine, could be the same one that the Benjamins had refused to bring in for ballistics testing. Were the Benjamins playing her in some way she hadn’t determined yet, or were they just hoping to make her squirm? Either way, until a bullet was recovered that could serve as a basis for comparison, and she had more on the Benjamins than just a lack
of trust, there weren’t any more reasons to confront them.

Ella stopped by her office to type a quick report for Big Ed, then returned to her vehicle. As she switched on the engine, her cell phone rang. Ella recognized Blalock’s voice immediately.

“We have a problem with Branch, the radio talk show moron,” he said. “He got wind of what’s happening at
the mine, and he just made things worse on
his program, adding wild speculation to the few facts he had.”

“Just what we needed,” Ella answered.

“We’re thinking of going to the station owners, asking that they have him exercise some discretion until the crisis has ended.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“He listed ways those occupying the coal piles and preparation area could wreak havoc with even a small amount of the right explosives.
He even read a paragraph from the
Anarchist’s Cookbook
on how to place the charges. From the information he gave we figure they could cripple the facility for weeks, maybe months. Hopefully nobody holding those hostages was listening.”

Ella knew that Blalock was no more a fan of Branch’s than she was. The man was an extreme right-wing ratingshungry jerk who took every opportunity to undermine
the tribal government and local law enforcement. “So now what?” she asked.

“Meet me at his home. He’s off the air now and I was told by his producer that he’d talk to me. If he refuses to listen to reason and cooperate, we can lean on his bosses.”

“I’m on my way. And, while we’re there, will you ask if he has a fifty-caliber weapon in his gun collection? If he does, ask him if he’ll volunteer
to bring it in for a ballistics test.”

“I’ll give it a try,” Blalock said. “Do you think the sniper weapon could be his?”

“Who knows? All I remember is that he has an extensive gun collection. Unfortunately for us, he could lie about it and we would never know unless we stumbled across the person who sold it to him.”

“I’ll
do the asking. Remember that we have to go by the book with this creep,
and it’s my jurisdiction. Branch is slimy and he keeps score.”

As she drove east across the Rez, Ella got an update on the negotiations. For the moment, things were quiet.

Ella checked her watch. Blalock would arrive at Branch’s home first, but that was a good thing. Had it been the other way around she would have been tempted to press Branch for answers, and that could have just created more
trouble.

Blalock was waiting with George Branch on his farmhouse porch by the time she pulled up beside Branch’s monstrous SUV.

“I see you’re finally learning to play by the rules, Special Investigator Clah.” Branch used his radio voice when stating her job title, emphasizing each syllable. “Jurisdiction is something the courts take very seriously.”

She would have given anything to bury her
fist into his ever-growing gut but, instead, she simply nodded.

“I understand that you have a question about my gun collection?” Branch asked her as they stepped inside to his living room. He sat down immediately, but Ella and the FBI agent remained standing.

Ella shook her head. “You can address your concerns to Agent Blalock. As you said, it’s his jurisdiction.”

Blalock’s expression was one
of pure relief. “We need to know if you own a fifty-caliber rifle, sir, and if you do, may we examine it?”

Branch hesitated. “I did own one, but it was stolen.”

“Did you report the crime?” Blalock asked.

“It was over a year ago, and, yes, I did. The county sheriff should have a record of that report. And my insurance company probably has a copy on record as well.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,
I seem to remember that you have an elaborate antitheft system. What happened?” Ella asked.

“There was an accident about a mile from here involving a gasoline truck, and apparently the electricity was down for several hours. I wasn’t home at the time. Unfortunately, by the time I got back, my house had
been broken into and several of my weapons were gone.”

“Did any of them ever turn up?” Blalock
asked.

“None. I lost the fifty-caliber, two long-barreled goose guns, and three nine-millimeter pistols. They took several boxes of shells, as well.”

“Any idea who might have taken them?”

“No. The sheriff’s deputies asked me the same questions, but a lot of people know about my gun collection. When the power went out, someone must have seen it as their golden opportunity.” He looked at Ella
and then at Blalock. “Why all this interest now?”

“A fifty-caliber rifle was used in a crime recently and, as you can imagine, there aren’t that many of them in these parts.”

“A weapon that big used in a crime? Hell, it almost takes two people to carry one. It’s expensive, too,” Branch conceded. “Okay, now that I’ve cooperated with you, will you give me a statement about what’s going on over
at the power plant?”

“I’ll have to refer you to the news reports. There’s nothing more being released to the press or public for the time being,” Blalock answered. “And we’d appreciate it if you didn’t give the
Hasih
any extra intelligence information about the facility. A little discretion could be a community service right now.”

“Hey, they’re
in
there now, aren’t they? It’s not like I’m telling
them something they don’t know already.”

“They may not be as well-informed as you regarding the use of explosives,” Blalock said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Branch said. “How come the police don’t just raid the place and take their buildings and coal supply back?”

Blalock shrugged. “We always prefer to handle hostage situations without bloodshed, if possible.”

Branch’s eyes narrowed. “But you’ve
got a plan to take the place back forcibly.”

Ella decided to focus Branch’s thoughts on the stolen
weapon instead of continuing to play mind games with him. “Crimes like residential thefts are sometimes traced to someone who’s already visited the home. Can you associate anyone who’s been here to the stolen weapons?”

“All kinds of people come to my home. It’s the nature of the business I’m in.
I can’t vouch for everyone I’ve met, and I’m sure you can’t either. Besides, how am I supposed to remember a year later who might have been in my house? Do you remember all your house guests from a year ago, Investigator Clah?”

Ella hadn’t expected an answer anyway, but this was the closest to an honest response she could hope for from the man. At least he had a point.

She continued. “We’ve
had some outsiders on the Rez recently causing trouble. Have
you
had any problems with vandalism lately?”

“I live off the Rez, Clah. What do you mean, ’an outsider’? Navajos are the outsiders in the county.”

Branch was too quick and glib with his answers. That was a trait she’d found most often in people who made a habit of telling lies and half-truths.

Blalock looked at Branch, thanked him,
then walked outside with Ella. As soon as they were away from the house, Blalock spoke. “I don’t think he’s lying about the gun being stolen. That’s too easy to check up on.”

“But it’s also possible that the rifle and the other weapons were never stolen, that he gave or sold them to someone and he knows exactly what’s going on.”

“But we can’t prove any of that,” Blalock said, then checked his
watch. “You better get some rest before you make your move.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Ella said good-bye to Blalock, then drove straight home. She was almost dreading the empty house. The thought of not finding Rose or Dawn waiting depressed her.

When she unlocked the door a short time later, Two
came running up to her. She felt sorry for him, and bent down to pet the old but hardy mutt.

“You
don’t like being home alone either, do you, pal?” Ella scratched him behind the ears.

Two followed her into the kitchen and Ella fed him, then heated herself a can of soup. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed to eat. Carrying the bowl into the living room, she turned on the television set. The dog relaxed at the sound of voices and Ella made a mental note to leave the TV on for him until someone
came back home.

After finishing her supper, Ella downloaded the photos Blalock had sent her. She had an inexpensive ink-jet printer that provided color capability, so she set the software on high quality and printed the best of the photos.

Returning to the living room, Ella set the photos down on the coffee table, and studied each. From what she could see, getting the hood just right was paramount.

She sat back, mulling things over in her mind. As she did, her gaze drifted over Dawn’s scattered toys. Unable to resist the impulse, she reached for the phone and started to dial Kevin’s cell phone number, needing the reassurance that Dawn was okay. Then she realized what time it was, and hung up.

There was no sense in waking Dawn up too. Kevin would find out that their daughter lived up to
her name quite naturally. She chuckled softly, thinking that Kevin was in for a surprise when Dawn woke with Sun. If he’d had plans to sleep late this weekend their daughter would change that in a hurry.

Realizing that she’d have to get some sleep soon, she took a last look at the photos, then went to her room. She’d just stripped off her clothes and crawled into bed when Two jumped up, settling
beside her.

Ella glared at him for a moment but, seeing the hopeful look he gave her, she caved in. “Okay, Two, but just for this weekend.”

After setting the alarm on the bedstand to go off in exactly three hours, she turned off the lamp.

When the alarm went off it felt as if she’d only been asleep a few minutes. Ella groaned, then opened her eyes, trying to get her bearings in the dark. As
her thoughts became focused she switched on the lamp and got out of bed. Two looked at her, but made no move to get off the covers.

“All right, furball. You get it all to yourself now.” Ella considered a shower, then realized the people holding the hostages wouldn’t have bathed for many hours. She dressed quickly, using the photos of one of the members of
Hasih
as a guide, trying to match the
parson’s appearance.

Turning on the TV for Two, Ella stepped outside into the bitter cold wearing her vest over the coat. She’d wear it as long as she could.

As she switched on the ignition, her thoughts shifted to the task ahead. Clifford would be waiting, and it was time to go to work.

Driving to her brother’s house, Ella thought about Clifford. She doubted he ever got much sleep when his family was away, and, for the first time, she truly empathized with that.

A short time later, she pulled up near the medicine hogan and Clifford came out and waved at her, inviting her to come inside. The weather was beyond cold as she left the tribal unit and walked across the
frozen earth. The gusts sweeping from the mountains to the west chilled her to the bone.

“This has got to be one of the worst winters we’ve had in a decade or more,” Ella said, teeth chattering. The fire in the hogan was low, but it felt wonderful after being outside.

“I think it is.” Clifford opened the trunk she’d seen before and pulled out a newer-looking burlap hood. “This is a duplicate
of the ones the
Hasih
use. My patient’s nephew is involved in the group and this was the hood he wore until it got torn up in the back. I’ve repaired it for you.”

“Who’s your patient?” Ella asked, pulling out the color print of the photo Blalock had sent her, and comparing the hood Clifford had with the one in the photo.

“Hastiin Sání.”

The nickname simply meant “mister old man” but she knew
who he meant. It was Pablo Tso, and his nephew, Clyde, had been in school with her. Pablo was over one hundred years old if he was a day.

“Are you telling me that his nephew, my old schoolmate,
is one of the men inside the mine’s operation building?”

“Yes, and in exchange for the information, I’ve promised Hastiin Sání that you’ll do your best to protect his nephew. But be careful. I’m pretty
sure he’ll recognize your voice if he hears it.”