Earthway (20 page)

“Do you have a minute, Reverend? I’d like to talk to you,” she said.

“Of course. Come in, and have a seat. Tea?” he asked, gesturing to the kettle
atop a hot plate. “It’s decaffeinated green tea, which is supposed to be good for you. I’m trying to lay off the caffeine, particularly these days.”

Ella didn’t ask the obvious question, but looked at him and waited. In her many years as a police officer, she’d learned that if you just waited, and appeared interested, people would tell you just about anything. Reverend Campbell didn’t disappoint.

“I’m glad to fill in for Reverend Tome, but the workload’s been staggering,” he said, sitting behind his desk. “And, of course, the fact that someone actually tried to kill a minister keeps me looking over my own shoulder.”

“I think it’s target specific—they want Reverend Tome, for whatever the reason. Mind you, it’s good for you to stay alert, but I don’t believe you’re in danger.”

“I just
don’t understand what’s happening. Our job’s to help people, to love them as Christ loved. To us, combating violence means loving more. It’s not an easy road, believe me, but it’s the one we were called to follow.”

Ella stared at a spot on the wall just beyond the reverend. His words sounded so much simpler and easier to accept than if they’d come from Ford. Maybe it was because Reverend Campbell
was more flexible. Or maybe it was because she wasn’t in love with Campbell. Either way, she had to get answers, and to do that, she’d have to approach him in just the right way. Remembering her father’s views, and
trying to put herself in Reverend Campbell’s place, she finally spoke.

“An officer of mine is in the hospital and may never completely recover. You can’t allow this disturbed person
to harm another one of God’s children. Loving your enemy means protecting him from himself, too. By placing him in a position where he can receive help, you save two souls—his and the potential victim’s.”

“That’s very true. Well said.”

“Which brings me to the reason I’m here. I need your help, Reverend Campbell. Ford’s too close to this situation and I need someone who can be objective. There’s
a good chance that the person trying to kill Ford knows him personally. Does anyone here at the church have a problem with him?”

“Minor skirmishes break out between different committees when it comes to the ministry and budgetary matters, but all-out violence?” He shook his head.

“Think hard, Reverend Campbell. Has Ford had a disagreement with anyone who might be prone to violence?”

“You should
be asking him this,” Campbell said.

“Ford’s in a bad place mentally right now. In his eyes, admitting that the person after him might be a parishioner will also mean admitting that he and this church failed that person. I don’t think he can deal with that at the moment. Will you help me?”

Reverend Campbell fell into a thoughtful silence.

As Ella waited, she wondered what Ford would say when
he found out she’d spoken to Reverend Campbell. By his own rules, he’d have to forgive her. . . .

“I can recall two instances of trouble in the past few months. When the wife of one of our parishioners, Edna Billey, left for Albuquerque on business, she asked Ford to make some routine stops at her home to check on her husband, who was bedridden. Ford agreed, but one afternoon when Ford
went to
the house, he found that the man had passed away. When Edna returned, she blamed Ford, convinced that he hadn’t checked on her husband closely enough. She was very upset, but Edna’s a gentle person. She wouldn’t harm anyone.”

“What about their children? What was their reaction?”

“They only have one son, who’s in the Marines. He was granted leave to attend the funeral, but I understand he’s scheduled
to be shipped back to the Middle East soon.”

“I’ll need his name,” Ella said.

“Louis Billey. They’re both currently staying at a rented single-wide trailer over in Waterflow. Edna moved in there right after her husband’s death. There’s nothing wrong with the house, but no one will go near it now that a death’s occurred there. You know how that works.”

Ella knew about fear of the
chindi
. It
was said that when a man died, the evil in him wouldn’t be able to merge with universal harmony, so it stayed behind to create problems for the living. It was a powerful belief on the Rez, even among churchgoers.

“You mentioned two instances of trouble. What’s the second?” Ella pressed.

“Kim Mike. . . .”

The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“It was a very sad situation. Her
husband Henry used to beat her up. She’d come to church a total mess—busted nose, black eyes, split lip, the works. We both tried to work with Henry and Kim because, believe it or not, Kim didn’t want to leave him, despite the abuse.” He shook his head, then took a deep breath before continuing.

“The beatings grew so severe that Ford and I were both worried that he’d end up killing her. Then
last month, Henry put her in the hospital and got arrested. While he was in jail, Kim finally took our advice. She left the Navajo Reservation, telling no one where she was going. When Henry got out on
bail he came over here drunk, threatened Ford, and started pushing him around. Things got really bad fast, so I called the police. They took him back to jail and put him in a detox program. After
that I was told that he’d moved over the mountains to Many Farms.”

“I appreciate your help, Reverend Campbell,” Ella said, standing. “Thanks very much.”

He nodded. “Tell Ford that I’ll be praying for him and everyone else involved in this case.”

“I will, and thanks. We need all the help we can get.”

A
s Ella headed back to the station, she telephoned her team for a meeting. It was time to get more minds on the problem. Maybe together they’d be able to come up with new strategies.

It was already dark by the time Ella walked into the station. Time seemed to be slipping through her fingers, just like the answers she was trying so hard to find.

As she
entered her office, Ella glanced at the group already gathered there. Blalock was sitting in her chair, sipping coffee from one of the machines down the hall, Justine was leaning against the wall, and Anna seemed restless, fidgeting in her chair. Marianna was typing on a laptop.

“Phillip Cloud has taken over surveillance from Joe, who’s en route back. Dr. Lee didn’t leave her home again today,”
Justine said.

“Maybe she knows we’re keeping tabs on her,” Blalock said, standing and motioning Ella to her chair.

“I suppose she could have made us,” Ella said. “Except for Anna, we’ve all been part of this community for years, so she may know who to look for.” Ella sat down and glanced at them. “Okay, moving on. Anyone have anything new to report?”

“I spoke to the construction company foreman,
Don Zahnes, who reported the theft,” Justine said. “He says this is the first time they’ve had an explosives locker broken into, and they’ve been in business for twenty-five years.”

“When Justine mentioned that it was Valley Construction, I volunteered to go talk to the owner, Gary Ute,” Anna said. “He and I were . . . friends . . . once.”

“What did you get?” Ella asked her.

“The explosives
are stored in a ventilated steel shed out in the back of the yard. The shed—actually a concrete locker with a steel door—is kept locked and they’ve never had a problem. Gary said that he went out to take inventory yesterday and that’s when he realized that someone had cut off the locks and helped himself. Missing were five blasting caps, and three electrical and two non-electrical detonators with
fuses. Also fifty pounds of ammonium nitrate and ten sticks of dynamite.”

“The lot number of one of the missing electrical detonators matches the one used to set off the pipe bomb on campus,” Justine added.

“What did you get from the prints, anything interesting?” Ella asked Justine.

“Lots of partials, most belonging to the crew who deals with demolition over at Valley Construction. None of
the men have criminal records beyond minor traffic violations.”

When no one else spoke, Ella glanced around the room. “I have a theory. Despite my hesitancy to believe in coincidences, it’s possible we may be working two cases with separate motives,” she said, then told them about Ford’s problems at church. “Right now I’d like to go over all the hard facts we have and see what we can make of
them.”

She paused for a moment, and, assured she had everyone’s attention, continued. “At least one of our suspects is an expert shot. We’re also dealing with someone who knows how to make a bomb. This person may or may not be the
leader, but he’s well-read, or trained in setting up and running a covert operation.”

“And someone who’s familiar with codes,” Blalock added.

“If you lump it all
together, then it looks like we’re looking for people from law enforcement and/or the military,” Anna said.

“A non-Navajo would stick out on the Navajo Nation, and have trouble enlisting other Navajos. We’re probably talking about one of our own people,” Marianna said.

“Let me do a little digging and take a closer look at Navajo officers who serve in departments adjacent to the Rez,” Justine
said.

“Look inside our own department, too,” Ella said in a heavy voice. “And, Justine, don’t go through channels. We can’t afford to tip anyone off, and we don’t know how highly placed the individual or individuals might be.”

“That’ll take some finessing then,” Justine said.

Anna regarded Ella thoughtfully but said nothing.

“Got something on your mind?” Ella pressed.

“Just a thought,” Anna
answered. “You can learn just about anything you want about bombs in a library, more via the Internet. The Patriot Act gives us the right to monitor the reading and search patterns of people of interest. Since we don’t have any names, maybe we can get a lead from the librarians at the Media Center. It’s possible they can point us to someone who has visited suspicious sites or has been reading books
on explosives.”

“I suggest that you forego the fishing expedition, Officer Bekis,” Blalock said. “Get a name first. Then, providing you’re able to demonstrate probable cause, get a warrant before you monitor a specific person. It keeps things clean. I’m getting close to retirement and I’d rather spend my future wading in a trout stream, not slogging through court proceedings.”

Ella looked at
Justine. “Try to locate Henry Mike for me. He’s supposed to be living on the Arizona side of the Rez at Many Farms. Just don’t make the trip unless the locals can verify his location. No sense in wasting half a day on the road. Recruit extra personnel if you need to, but only with the intention of interviewing Henry on domestic charges.”

As Anna and Justine left, Ella glanced at Blalock. “Let’s
go talk to Louis Billey. We know he’s got the weapons skills, at least.”

Following the directions Reverend Campbell gave Ella, they soon arrived at an area of single-wide trailers on the mesa north of the highway, about ten miles east of Shiprock. In the headlights they could see that most of the homes had torn or missing window screens. Roofs were held down by old, junked tires, to keep them
from shaking loose. Running water came via garden-type hoses running inside windows from a common faucet, and each mobile home had an outhouse at the back.

Ella found the right trailer, judging from the number on the white sign facing the hard-packed dirt road.

“At least they have electricity, but I’ve never figured out why people stay in places like this,” Blalock said. “If they’d leave the
Rez, they could get decent jobs and better housing.”

“Jobs here are few and far between, that’s true enough, but leaving the Rez is equally hard for some of the
Diné
. Here, we have the sacred mountains and other Navajos who understand and value the same things we do. We have clans, and that means family nearby no matter where we go on the
Dinétah
. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

He shrugged.
“I’ve always made my own rules and I was never close to my family. They went their way, I went mine.”

Ella had heard this before, but she didn’t understand it. She couldn’t even count the many ways her family enriched her life.

“Don’t look at me like that, Clah, I like the way I live. There’s freedom in it,” Blalock said.

“Freedom to be lonely,” she answered. She’d seen too many people on the
outside wandering through each day of their lives, lost and searching for meaning and purpose. What a Navajo family gained by staying on the
Dinétah
couldn’t be measured easily, but the rewards were there. Her own life with Dawn and Rose kept her connected to the past, the present, and the future.

Ella turned off the headlights and the engine and sat back. “We want cooperation, so we’re going
to afford them the courtesy of waiting for an invitation to approach.”

Time passed. Ella saw the curtains of the old trailer move as a figure she couldn’t see clearly peered out, but no one came to the door.

“No cars are parked here, Clah. We’re wasting our time.”