Coyote's Wife (4 page)

Following Marilyn’s directions, it didn’t take long for them to arrive at another, larger wood frame house just off the main highway about a mile south of the community of Naschitti. Justine parked about halfway down the driveway, then got out and stood by the pickup, badge in plain sight. Ella joined her, making sure her shield was also visible beside the
holster of her sidearm.

“Someone just looked out the front room curtain,” Ella said to Marilyn. “They know we’re here.”

“My husband’s uncle, Hoskie Charley, will come out—eventually,” Marilyn said, getting out to join them. “He never does anything quickly.”

After ten minutes, a man in his seventies, wearing dark blue jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt, walked out onto the concrete step. He
took a long look in their direction, then came toward them slowly. His hair was silver and tied at the nape of his neck. As he got closer, he looked at Ella and Justine, then finally at Marilyn.

“You’ve come with the police. What do you want with us?” he asked Marilyn. His gaze was cold, almost accusing. “I have bad news, uncle of my husband,” she said.
“Your nephew passed away in an accident
while cutting firewood.”

His expression softened for a moment, and he looked at Ella, who nodded in confirmation.

Hoskie stood rock still, staring at his boots. A thick and heavy silence stretched out between them. Then, after a long pause, he raised his head again and looked at Marilyn. “Then you’re finally free to do whatever you want,” he said in a strangled voice.

He nodded to Ella and
Justine, then turned his back on them and returned to the house.

Ella and Justine exchanged surprised glances, but neither commented.

Marilyn stood by the pickup, tears streaming down her face. “My duty here is done.”

“Come on, we’ll take you home,” Ella said softly. “Then once we take a look at your husband’s truck, we’ll see if someone at StarTalk can return it to you. Do you have a set of
keys we could borrow?” Ella added as an afterthought, recalling they’d only found keys to the Dodge.

“The keys will still be in the truck—in the ashtray. My husband never locked the doors. If you
could
have someone drive it over to me, I’d sure appreciate it.”

As they rode back in silence, Ella mentally replayed the scene she’d just witnessed. There was more going on here than met the eye.

When they arrived at Marilyn’s house, Ella noticed an old, faded navy blue pickup that hadn’t been there before parked by the side of the house. No driver was visible.

“Looks like you’ve got company,” Ella said. Perhaps Marilyn’s claims of being completely friendless hadn’t been exactly accurate—unless George’s pickup had been returned, somehow.

“It’s my neighbor,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.”

As Marilyn hurried inside, Ella glanced over at Justine. “Whoever that is apparently feels it’s okay to go inside the house even if no one’s home. Can you get a clear look at that tag?”

Justine pulled forward a bit, and read off the vehicle’s license plate information to Ella, who wrote it down. As they headed back to the road, Ella called it in.

“The pickup belongs to Wallace Curtis. From the
address on the driver’s license, he lives just a few miles from the victim’s home,” Dispatch answered.

Ella lapsed into a long silence and Justine didn’t interrupt her thoughts. “We’re missing something, partner,” Ella said slowly.

“Yeah. I get that feeling, too. Maybe we should go back and talk to Hoskie Charley.”

“I want to find out more about Wallace Curtis first. And let’s try to keep this
low-key for now,” Ella said.

“Are you thinking we’re dealing with a love triangle? If so, maybe George Charley’s wound was a defensive one after all. And there were those other shoe tracks where the accident or murder went down. Do you suppose Wallace wears Nikes?”

“The ground
was
packed hard in places, and the perp might have smoothed his own tracks closer to the body. But there are other ways
to commit a murder, too. Maybe Marilyn slipped George something in his food, or he might have been darted with a drug from a distance. Animal control certainly uses them a lot around here to deal with vicious dogs and the occasional bear in the backyard, so it’s not totally impossible. I’ll call Carolyn and see if she can expedite the toxicology report. I’ll also have her check the body for any
other marks.”

“That dart theory—not bad—but if that’s the case we should have found the dart,” Justine said.

Ella thought about it a moment. “Not if it was knocked out of him later when he went crashing through the woods. If that’s the case, it could be almost anywhere. Mind you, it’s pretty unlikely, but if that’s what happened, it would have left a puncture mark on the body and chemical traces
in his blood. Carolyn will be able to prove or disprove this theory for us,” Ella said. “But we need to keep in mind that our victim wasn’t supposed to be alone today. Ervin Benally may know something we can use.”

“Want me to give him a call when we get back to the station? Find out who knew where they were going, and like that?” Justine asked.

“Yeah. We need to cover every base.”

They returned
to the station, and by the time Ella filed her report, it was already 5
P.M.

Just then, Justine poked her head inside Ella’s office. “I spoke to Mr. Benally briefly. He was shocked to hear about the incident, but wasn’t much help. He told me he had a meeting tonight, but suggested I come by StarTalk tomorrow if I had any more questions,” Justine said.

“I dusted everything for prints, even the
beer cans,” she added. “They all came from the same person, presumably the victim. Ralph has all the other evidence we collected, and is going to deliver a copy of the fingerprints, the chain saw, and a set of photos to the ME. He doesn’t need me for that, so if you don’t either, I’m heading home.”

“I’m leaving too. Big Ed’s asked me to attend a tribal chapter house meeting later tonight, so
I want to catch something to eat and see my kid before I go. Benally is supposed to be there to talk about his project. If I get a chance, I’ll speak to him concerning the incident. See you early tomorrow, partner.”

As Ella drove home, the reception Marilyn Charley had received at the home of her in-laws still bothered her. What
wasn’t she seeing? In-law problems were common, but families stuck
together, particularly in hard times.

Realizing she was trying to force answers when she didn’t have enough facts to go on, Ella decided to give it a rest. She’d tackle all that again in the morning. Depending on how closely management associated with labor at StarTalk, maybe Ervin Benally could shed some light on the Charleys’ relationship.

As she drove up the road leading home, Ella’s thoughts
turned to Dawn. She was looking forward to seeing her nine-year-old daughter tonight. They’d never been closer. Maybe it was because everything around them was changing.

Rose was more involved with her new husband Herman these days. Kevin, Dawn’s father, was gone, too, pursuing the next step in his career, according to him. Yet the biggest change in her and her daughter’s lives these days was
the presence of Reverend Bilford Tome, or Ford, as he preferred to be called by those close to him.

Ella and Ford’s relationship had started as a mutual help society. She’d needed a way to get Rose and her friends to stop fixing her up with just about anyone they could think of. Ford, charismatic, good-looking, and single, had faced similar problems with his congregation. In fact, he’d been the
first to suggest that they be seen in public together as often as possible. Yet in their attempt to pass muster as a couple, something unexpected had happened. They had become one.

Dawn had accepted Ford’s presence in their lives, but she was also reluctant to share Ella’s free time with anyone else. Though it was a constant balancing act, Ella had managed things so far.

A short time later,
Ella walked into her home through the old front entrance. Herman was in the living room playing
a video game with Dawn, and Ella could hear Rose in the kitchen. Dawn called out a quick hello, but never took her eyes off the screen and her animated race car.

Ella greeted Herman, gave Dawn a quick kiss, then left the room to go shower and change. By the time she came back into the living room,
Dawn met her holding a plate filled with a huge Navajo taco. The fry bread and spicy meat mixture was heavy with cheese and smelled delicious.

“
Shimasání
said that you can sit down at the coffee table or in the kitchen, but you’re not allowed to leave this house before you eat,” Dawn said, “not after missing lunch.”

Smiling, Ella sat down on the couch, plate in hand, and motioned for Dawn to
join her. “Get another fork and help me with some of this. If I ate all the food your
shimasání
puts onto my plates, I’d never fit into my jeans.”

Dawn laughed. “You’re thin,
Shimá.”
She ducked into the kitchen and came back moments later. “Will you be back late?” she asked, taking a mouthful.

“I don’t know. You’ve been to some of our chapter house meetings. They can last an hour, or go on all
night,” Ella said, then switched the conversation. “What did you do today?”

“Reverend Ford came by,” she said as they continued eating. “We played video games for a while, and he helped me with a math problem. He’s nice, but he’s as busy as you are sometimes. Anyway, that’s what he told me. We waited for you until about four, but then he had to leave.”

Ella nodded, finishing her food. “He and
I both have demanding jobs, you know that. But our work makes everyone’s lives safer and better.” She set aside the plate they’d both emptied in record time, and reached out and tickled her daughter. “But nothing is as important to me as you are.”

Dawn squealed, and laughed, moving away.

“I love you, Pumpkin,” Ella said seriously.

“Mom, you
can’t
call me that anymore,” she said, horrified.
“You promised! It’s embarrassing.”

Ella sighed and gave her daughter a quirky half-smile. “It
was
your nickname for a very long time.”

“Yeah, but I’m in fourth grade now. I’m not a baby anymore.”

“No, you’re not.” Ella stood up. “Which is why I know you’ll understand that, as much as I want to stay home and spend the evening with you, I’ve got to get going.”

Dawn nodded, looking very much
like an adult for just a few seconds. “The tribe needs you, so we’ve got to share.”

Ella could hear Rose’s words echoing through her daughter. “You’re a terrific kid,” she said, giving Dawn a quick hug and kiss.

Later, as she drove north toward Shiprock and that community’s chapter’s house, Ella phoned Carolyn. There was no answer, so she left a message. She’d need that toxicology report as
soon as possible.

Ella put the case out of her mind for now. It was time to focus on the chapter house meeting—the traditional equivalent of town meetings on the Navajo Nation, which were divided into geographical “chapters.” Tonight’s presenter was Ervin Benally. He was the head of StarTalk, the Navajo telecommunications company. This evening’s meeting was supposed to be informal and would include
a question and answer portion that everyone was hoping would remain focused and peaceful.

At Big Ed’s request, Ella would attend, and then submit a report tomorrow on the potential applications of that technology to the department. The uncertainty of radio and cell phone communications on the Rez had made for some tough times for the department. Although many memos and official handouts on the
situation had been distributed,
her boss wanted to hear from someone who didn’t sit behind a desk.

As Ella approached the chapter house, located southeast of the main highway junction in “downtown” Shiprock, she noted that every parking place around the small stucco building seemed to be taken already.

Ella ended up parking down the street and walking about a hundred yards. She approached the
side door of the building where several men were gathered, talking, while kids played under the outside lights.

A quick look around assured Ella that their guest presenter had arrived. A new-looking white SUV—the indigo blue and silver StarTalk company logo on the door—was parked right by the sidewalk. Seeing Sergeant Joseph Neskahi, in uniform, standing just inside the door, Ella nodded in greeting.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Ella,” Joe said, joining her. “I heard that you ended up with a suspicious death and three scenes to process today. It gets really busy when you’re shorthanded.”

It didn’t surprise her that Joe knew about the death of George Charley. Joe had wanted to become a permanent part of her Special Investigations Unit for almost a year now, and always kept well
informed. He’d taken all the required courses, and had proven his value on many investigations in the past. Since the department’s budget hadn’t allowed her to hire another full-time team member, Joe kept getting shifted back and forth between her unit and patrol duties.

“There are still a few unanswered questions about this incident. If we need a lot more legwork before we can close the case,
I’ll ask that you be transferred over to us.”

“Off the record, how soon do you think you’ll be making that decision?” he asked.

His tone had been casual, but she knew Joe too well not to be able to detect the eagerness behind the remark. “I have no idea,” she answered honestly.

“Should I stay in touch?”

“Not necessary. I know how to find you,” Ella answered.

Looking past Joe, she saw the
huge crowd gathered inside. All the folding chairs were filled, and at least a dozen men and women were lined up along the walls. “Standing room only?”

“Yeah. Lucky somebody is saving me a seat up front. Everyone wants to hear about this new phone thing. The idea of being able to reach anyone, anytime, on the Rez appeals to a lot of folks. But there’s opposition here, too. Some feel our people
are facing more pressing problems—not being able to heat their homes in winter, getting electricity, and still having to haul in drinking water. They want issues like that addressed and resolved before considering luxuries like telephones.”