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Authors: Aimée Thurlo

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The knock came again, louder. About ten seconds later, she heard a single word—“crap”—and then silence. Not knowing if the student was still out there, Ella worked quickly and silently. She looked at the contents
of the open drawer without touching anything, and saw packs of chewing gum, erasers, staples and a stapler, and a folder with a tag that read “class rosters.” Other office supplies were in there, too, along with a nail file and a set of keys. From their shapes, the keys probably fit the file cabinets along the side wall.

As she was about to close and lock the drawer, Ella heard a faint sound
by the door. A piece of folded paper had been slipped underneath—maybe a note from the student who’d come knocking. She’d check it later.

Quickly going through the other desk drawers, Ella found only lecture notes, reference books on women’s issues, and what looked like student assignments and grade sheets from a computer spreadsheet program.

Finally, she got down on her knees and looked up
at the bottom of the center drawer. A piece of tape had “9002eelenaj” written on it.

It was a password obviously—Jane Lee written backwards, plus the year 2009. That probably gave access to the files on her office computer, or maybe her grade program.
All in all, Ella thought it was too simple and obvious to hide any big secrets, but sometimes the biggest minds made simple mistakes.

Not wanting
to waste time checking out the password now, Ella worked her way around the room. She checked the unlocked file cabinets quickly and found they contained only reference materials and old student papers.

Turning a quick circle, she noted only Southwest landscape watercolors and Indian poster art on the walls. Taking them down to examine the backs wouldn’t make much sense. Ella knew the information
had to be immediately available to Jane.

Ella took a quick glance at the paper that had been slipped beneath the door. It was a note on a physician’s letterhead explaining the absence of Betty Largo from a recent class.

Ella was looking under the office chair for other taped passwords or lists of code words when her cell phone started to vibrate. Seeing the “go” text message, she put the chair
back in place, then checked to make sure everything was as it had been before.

Moving quickly she exited the office, walked briskly down the hall, and out a side door.

As Ella headed to the visitor’s parking lot, she dialed Anna’s number. Notifying the bomb tech that she was clear, Ella instructed her to meet and assist Marianna. Lastly, Ella checked in with Justine.

“I placed the GPS and searched
the car, top to bottom, but there was nothing of interest to us there,” Justine answered. “How did it go with you?”

“Not good. Jane kept her purse with her. All I found after searching her office was the likely password to her office computer, or maybe her grade program.” Ella then gave her partner the code.

“Let me guess—it was written on a scrap of paper and slipped underneath her desk pad.”

“Close, it was on a strip of masking tape stuck beneath her desk drawer.”

Ella and Justine met at the parking lot a short time later. “Big Ed may not agree, but I’m sending Marianna and Anna back to help Neskahi. When Dr. Lee leaves the campus, you and I are going to stick to her like sand to the desert floor.”

It was another twenty minutes before Marianna finally reported that Dr. Lee was heading
to her car. Relieved that the wait was over, Ella asked her and Anna to return to the station.

“Where did you place the tracking unit on Dr. Lee’s car?” Ella asked Justine.

“I used quick-set epoxy and stuck it behind her license plate.” She brought out the small GPS screen and showed Ella the color display. “The red dot is Jane’s car.”

 

They set out heading west, Justine behind the wheel
and Ella monitoring the GPS. After a while, the route seemed clear. “Looks to me like she’s going home,” Ella said. “The software doesn’t show every unpaved road in the area, but the blip and the direction indicate she’s now on that gravel lane.”

“Too bad. I was hoping we’d get lucky,” Justine said.

“Wait a sec,” Ella added suddenly. “She’s come to a full stop, and although the scale isn’t precise,
I don’t think she’s home yet.” Ella paused, then continued after a beat. “She’s moving again.”

“There might have been something in the road, like those geese. Or maybe she met someone,” Justine said.

“No, no way. If she was going to make contact, it wouldn’t have been out in the open like that, where she could be seen for a mile in every direction. Something else is going on. Stay sharp.” Ella
got out a pair of binoculars and studied the area ahead of them. “Nobody’s passed us, and I can’t see any sign of another car or truck in the distance.”

As they reached the lane that led to where Dr. Lee lived, Ella sat up. “Take it slow,” she said. “That fence . . .”

Justine glanced at it, then back at Ella. “What? It was there last time.”

“Look at the Coke can. See it balanced on that post
up ahead?”

“If it’s a code or a signal it’s definitely low tech, and that doesn’t fit with all the electronic gizmos she’s been using,” Justine said. “For all we know, kids could have done that.”

“What a better way to throw people off the trail than to mix a variety of methods. Leaving a marker like that as a sign to pick up a message at a drop, or make a contact, is right out of an old Cold
War spy manual.”

“We could dust the can for prints. If someone else put it there as a signal . . .”

Ella considered. “Drive down to the end of the lane first and let’s make sure we’re not being watched, or that Jane isn’t out in her yard looking this way. If it’s clear, we’ll stop and I’ll keep watch while you dust the can. Then we’ll wipe it clean and put it back exactly where it is.”

As they
were circling the area, they found a place beside the river road where somebody had been dumping garbage, a common problem in an area where public sanitation services were scarce. “Stop a second, Justine,” Ella said, pointing toward the debris pile.

“Yeah, I see the Coke can. We can use it as a substitute while we work on the other one. Good idea, partner.” Justine stopped the unit, and Ella
walked over to the mess. A few seconds later, they were on their way, empty can in hand.

Not spotting another moving vehicle, Ella, wearing latex gloves, walked over, switched cans, and, after looking inside the one from the post and finding it empty, put it into a paper bag she used to transport evidence.

Five minutes later, down by the river and out of sight, Ella stood outside the vehicle
and watched while Justine dusted the can.

“I’ve got a lot of smears and a partial or two, but no complete prints,” Justine said, placing the can back into the paper bag.

“When we get back to the office, process what you’ve got. See if you can get anything by matching comparison points.”

“I’d like to have this fence staked out for the next day or so. Let’s see if the can gets removed, or placed
elsewhere—anything that might constitute a signal. Joe and Anna can take turns keeping watch.”

“We have no guarantees that this is for real, or if it is, that the message hasn’t already been delivered. Will it be worth the manpower?” Justine asked.

“It is, when you consider our only known suspect lives a half mile from here.” Ella remembered the ammo Dr. Lee had been passed. “Something’s brewing,
cuz, and it might involve a long-range weapon and some up-close firepower. The problem is, we can’t stop what we don’t see coming.”

 

Ella called Ford and gave him the password she’d found in Jane’s office, then continued surveillance on the two targets—Dr. Lee’s home and the fence line. With the open terrain, a pair of binoculars were all that was needed.

“This is making me nuts. She’s not
going anywhere,” Ella said.

“Let Joe take over for us here,” Justine said. “Our time’s better spent elsewhere.”

Ella nodded. She still had a feeling she was missing something, but before she could say anything, her phone rang. It was Big Ed.

“We just got a call from the Bureau lab. They’ve completed
processing the bomb fragments and have a sketch of the likely design and components. The electric
timer was a cheap version that’s readily available, but we got a hit on the blasting cap. It came from Valley Construction. The charge used in the bomb was black powder, and that’s something Valley doesn’t carry or use. But they recently reported the theft of several bags of ammonium nitrate and sticks of dynamite, along with a few electrical blasting caps.”

“When was the report filed?” Ella
asked.

“Late yesterday. They keep their supplies in a steel storage unit, and didn’t discover anything was missing until one of their foremen came to pick up supplies and noticed the break-in. The moment it showed up on the federal hot sheet, FB-Eyes called me.”

“We’ll get on that right away,” Ella said, hanging up and giving Justine the highlights.

“Black powder is mild compared to what they
could do with dynamite, or that much ammonium nitrate,” Justine said. “If the bomb in the backpack had been dynamite instead of black powder . . .”

Ella nodded. “I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Want me to follow up on the theft and get a complete list of what’s missing, and how much?” Justine asked.

“Yeah. I’ll check in with Ford and Teeny and see if they have anything new for me.”

Less than
an hour later, they were back at the station. Ella, after getting herself some coffee, went directly to her office and called Ford’s cell phone number. From the tone of his voice when he answered, she knew instantly that they hadn’t made significant progress.

“This code’s so random, it’s nearly impossible to break,” he said, frustration evident in his tone. “Whoever made it up is extremely intelligent
or very lucky.”

“Don’t let it drive you crazy. Experience tells me that to
make progress you sometimes have to get away from it for a while.” People usually had things in their lives that gave them a sense of purpose and made them feel good about themselves. With Ford it was God, and then ciphers. Right now the first didn’t seem to be listening, and the second wasn’t cooperating.

“You’re right.
I need a break. Why don’t you meet me for an early dinner at the Totah?” he asked at last. “A little while ago Bruce took me back to my place to pick up my stuff and get Abednego. My car’s here now so after I stop for gas, I’ll join you there.”

Ella checked her watch. It was a bit past four. “Okay. You’re on.”

About fifteen minutes later, Ella was on her way to the Totah Café in downtown Shiprock.
As she passed Tsosie’s Gas and Goods, all her muscles suddenly tightened and a chill ran up her spine. Maybe she’d seen something only her subconscious had registered, or maybe it was that special instinct all cops developed, but something was wrong.

The badger fetish around her neck grew uncomfortably warm as she pulled into the station. The last time she’d felt on edge like this, the bomb blast
had followed. Ford, who was at the pumps, recognized her SUV and waved, obviously unaware of any possible danger.

Ella parked in a slot beside the building, then hurried to join Ford, who was putting the gas cap back on his car.

“Is something wrong, Ella?” he asked, watching her carefully as he walked toward her.

She barely heard, turning in a slow circle, looking for the source of her uneasiness.
Catching a flash of light at eye level from a figure standing beside a tree atop the mesa, Ella suddenly tackled Ford to the ground. Something thumped into the wall of the store just beyond them as the echo of a gunshot reached their ears.

“Get down!” Ella yelled to the other people nearby, simultaneously
drawing her handgun. Crouching low, she placed Ford’s vehicle between her and the tree in
the distance.

“Stay behind the engine block,” she called out to Ford, feeling the heat flowing from her badger fetish. “This isn’t over yet.”

TWELVE

A
s Ella brought out her cell phone and hit speed dial, another bullet struck the car with a thud. A third whistled by so close she could almost feel it. The sniper had a high-powered rifle with a scope, and judging from the way he was shooting, he was an expert marksman.

Ella reached the dispatcher and asked for backup. As soon as she ended the call, Ford
crept closer to her, staying low.

“Who’s doing this?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“An expert who’s got us zeroed in. Stay down.” Yet even as she spoke, she could feel the badger around her neck cooling. Unwilling to trust that completely, she waited another few minutes.

At long last, Ella moved to the rear of Ford’s car and risked a quick look. The shape she’d seen by the tree was gone. By the
time she rose to her feet, the fetish was cool to the touch, as all turquoise should be.

After backup arrived, Ella turned the job of interviewing witnesses over to the officer. As he worked, she processed the scene, searching for the places where the three rounds had struck.

The first bullet fired had ended up striking the foundation of the store, just below the wood. The copper-jacketed round
that had mushroomed upon impact appeared to be a hunting round from a .308. Ella knew those bullets were designed to do maximum damage. Unfortunately, that caliber wasn’t difficult to acquire and was available for many weapons.

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