Earthway (6 page)

“I know,” he answered, nodding slowly. “I believe you were born to be a detective, just as I was born to be a preacher.”

“We both give the work our all. That’s why we make a difference,”
Ella said, then she picked up the phone and dialed.

S
ince Ford lived off the reservation, he was outside Ella’s jurisdiction, but she could still call in favors. Ella reported the shooting and made arrangements for the county sheriff’s department to increase patrols in Ford’s neighborhood.

Once finished, she went back outside and met Ford, who was busy replacing the porch lights. “County’s going to send over
a deputy to take a report,” she said. “They’ll also be increasing patrols in this area, and keeping a special watch on your place for the next few days.”

“Good. But I’m worried about Abednego. He has no business being in my church office, but maybe an exception could be made . . . ,” Ford said as they went back inside. Leading the way into the kitchen, Ford handed her a storage bag for the evidence,
then poured himself and Ella some coffee.

“Your door and frame are steel, which stands up to being kicked in. Abednego was exposed because the intruder managed to pick the lock. You might want to switch to one of those high-tech locking mechanisms that requires a number code, or fingerprint. Other than that, I think Abednego’s safe and should continue to come and go through the doggie
door leading
to the backyard. That ten-foot-tall cinder block wall should protect him from all but direct gunfire, and your neighbor on that side would spot anyone who even got close. Didn’t you tell me once that she’s retired and usually home?” Ella took a sip of the hot brew.

Ford nodded. “Mrs. Tanner’s always watching, which probably explains why the guy tried to come in through the front. But I sure hate
having to hunker down for anyone out to do me or my animal harm,” Ford added through clenched teeth.

“Once we catch the guy, Abednego will be able to enjoy his evenings on the front porch again,” Ella said.

They both looked over as the flash of headlights showed through the front window. “Here’s the deputy, I bet,” Ella said. “He didn’t take long.”

They were halfway down the walk when the uniformed
officer stepped out of his unit. The deputy, an ex-military-looking Navajo in his mid-forties with tightly cropped hair, nodded to them both. “Investigator Clah? Looks like we’re having another of those never-ending days. I was at the college campus earlier, helping question the students and making sure my girlfriend was okay. She works for one of the professors. I hope your officer makes
it, by the way. The whole department is pulling for him.”

“I’ll pass that along. Thanks for the support, Deputy Whitefeather.” Although she’d recognized him and remembered seeing Whitefeather at the college today, she’d forgotten his name until she was close enough to see his name tag. They’d been on the same arrest team during joint agency outstanding-warrant sweeps last fall.

“Dispatch said
shots were fired at
your
residence?” Whitefeather asked.

“No, the shots were fired here at Reverend Tome’s residence. I’ve recovered a small caliber bullet for your crime lab to process.”

Ella handed the deputy the bullet, now in a plastic freezer bag. On the bag’s label space, she’d written the date, time, and location, then signed her name. She repeated the process with half the meat sample,
having kept the other portion for Justine’s lab.

“Reverend, meet Officer Henderson Whitefeather,” she said, turning around.

Ford stepped forward, acknowledging the man, but didn’t hold out his hand, not knowing if the other Navajo disliked shaking hands or not. The gesture was still not common practice among the
Diné
, the Navajo people. “Good evening, Officer.”

Ella sniffed, noting a floral
scent in the air.

“That would be me, smelling like lilacs or whatever,” Whitefeather said, shaking his head. “Had to use a lot of air freshener in my unit a while ago. A drunk cowboy puked all over the upholstery.”

“I can relate to that,” Ella responded, leading the way back toward the house. She’d arrested many drunks during her career.

Once inside the yard, Whitefeather raised the small clipboard
he had in his left hand. “Shall we get down to it, folks? Reverend, can you give me a rundown on what happened tonight?”

“Okay, I’ll start. Jump in whenever you want, Investigator Clah,” Ford said as they reached the porch.

Ten minutes later they watched from the sidewalk as the deputy’s car headed back toward the main highway.

“You think the deputy was right, that this was just a meth addict
trying to set up a burglary? There
have
been some residential burglaries in the area recently,” Ford asked.

“Anything is possible but, in my mind, it’s just too coincidental, especially after what happened this afternoon. It
also doesn’t fit the MO of a meth addict. They tend to be the smash-and-grab types. Instincts tells me these incidents are connected.”

“So what’s next, Ella?”

“There’ll
be patrol cars around, so if you hear or see anything out of the ordinary, call 911 immediately. One more thing: Stay at home until I’ve got a better handle on things. A day or two at least, okay?”

“What will you be doing?”

“I’m going to start by seeing how much Dr. Lee could have learned about your background by searching the Internet. To see you through her eyes, I’m going to have to follow
the logical investigative footsteps that would be available to her.”

“That makes sense.” He walked her to the door, Abednego beside him. “Do you honestly think he’ll be all right in the house while I’m gone during the day?” he asked, glancing at Ella, then back down at the dog.

“If it’ll make you feel better, we can arrange to loan him a Kevlar vest like some of our police dogs wear. We’ll get
one for you, too.”

Ford shook his head. “Not for me. This is all the protection I need,” he said, holding out the small silver cross he wore on a chain around his neck. “But I will take a vest for Abednego.”

She thought about arguing that he’d need more than the cross to protect him from a bullet, but one look at his face told her his mind was made up.

“All right then. I’ll be back later.”

Ella stopped by the station and spent the next few hours in her office at the computer. It was close to one-thirty in the morning by the time she looked up, and she was beyond tired, but she still didn’t want to go home. Normally, whenever she got off work this late, her first stop would be Dawn’s room.
She’d check on her daughter, then turn in for the night. But with Dawn gone, there was no need
for her mom skills—what had become the dearest part of her soul.

Ella called the hospital next. Ralph hadn’t regained consciousness since his surgery, but although his condition was still listed as critical, he was stable. Grateful he was still alive, she tried to do some more work, but her attention kept wandering. She finally decided she wasn’t doing the case any good, picked up her keys, waved
good-bye to the dispatcher, and headed home.

Two, their old mutt, greeted her at the door, and she scratched him behind the ears. The dog sighed contentedly, then went back to the kitchen and lay down on his bed. Not knowing which side of the house to sleep on since the new addition, he’d compromised by picking the most commonly shared room.

Ella stopped by her daughter’s room and stared at
the made-up bed and stuffed toys around the pillow. She missed Dawn so much, it was almost a physical pain. But Ella was determined to encourage her to build her own dreams and follow them wherever they might lead.

She wanted the very best for her daughter, but beneath the love, or maybe because of it, Ella struggled with fear. It continually tempted her to keep Dawn close, where she could be
watched over. But her daughter deserved more from her.

Ella lay down on Dawn’s bed and picked up the teddy bear that had been her daughter’s favorite toy well into her fifth year. It usually sat on the night stand, seldom used except in emergencies. With a sigh, Ella hugged the stuffed toy close, then leaned back against the pillow.

She was so tired. Maybe she’d just rest her eyes for a second
or two. . . .

Ella didn’t wake up until the alarm on her nightstand down the hall began to buzz loudly. It took her a second to get her
bearings, then she hurried down the hall and turned off the racket. Hoping the noise hadn’t carried to her mother’s side of the house, Ella showered and dressed. A short time later, she headed out the door, a cinnamon roll left over from yesterday in hand.

Ella entered the station a little after seven-thirty and stopped at the break room to pour herself a cup of coffee. The carafe was half full, but the second the strong black liquid touched her tongue, she gagged. The coffee, far from fresh, tasted like acid syrup. Ella promptly poured it down the drain and discarded the foam cup.

Justine came in while she was brewing a fresh pot. “Hey, partner.
I see you worked late last night.”

“How did you know?” Ella asked.

“My computer’s on the fritz, so I went to your office to use yours and noticed your log-off time. I also saw that you’d picked up the crime scene reports I left on your desk,” Justine answered.

“Yeah, I did,” Ella said, then added, “Anything new on Ralph?”

“I called the nurse’s station a while ago. He made it through the night,
but there’s been no change. I’m still praying for him,” Justine replied.

“He’s got a lot of support in our community. Now we have to nail the animal who did this. Why don’t you follow me to my office and we’ll get started,” Ella said. “I need to fill you in on a few things.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ella had updated Justine, relating what had happened last night at Ford’s home. She then explained
what she could about the possible terrorist threat to the nuclear facility. “What do
you
know about Dr. Lee?” Ella asked at last.

“She’s just a name to me, but I think Marianna Talk arrested Professor Lee several months ago, during a demonstration on campus. The activists wanted to force some tribal
council members to talk to the students about the nuclear plant’s safety procedures. Dr. Lee and
some others were arrested when they refused the order to disperse.”

“Is Marianna on duty now?”

“I saw her a little while ago meeting with the watch commander,” Justine said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll take a look in the briefing room, and if she’s still there, I’ll send her your way.”

Marianna Talk had been with their department for only a few years, but she was already on the radar for
a promotion. Ella had heard rumors that Marianna had set her eye on the Special Investigations Unit. Considering that Marianna was only a few inches over five feet—a weak point when encountering drunk drivers—Ella thought it was a good career decision.

Marianna entered Ella’s office minutes later and took a seat. “Justine said you needed to talk to me.”

Ella nodded. “I wanted to ask you about
Dr. Jane Lee, a professor at the community college. I understand you had to place her under arrest several months back.”

Marianna nodded slowly. “Professor Lee’s a strange one. She never said a word after her arrest. Maybe she thought that was the best thing she could do for herself, and I don’t dispute that strategy, it just surprised me. The only time she spoke at all was after I’d booked her.
She thanked me for all the work I and the other officers do for the
Diné
. What struck me as odd was that she looked at me directly—and you know Diné hardly ever do that. It’s considered disrespectful.”

“She’s in a leadership position at the college. She’s used to dealing with Modernists. Did any of the others arrested on that occasion make any comments about Dr. Lee?”

“Gladys Joe did. She was
one of the students I arrested that day. I’ve known Gladys and most of her clan all my life and we spoke for a while. She told me that Dr. Lee was one
of the finest minds on campus. According to Gladys, her professor wasn’t a rabble-rouser, but she had some very deep beliefs and wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she felt was right.”

The news didn’t give any comfort. Some of the worst felons
throughout history had been ones who’d professed to be acting according to their highest sense of right. But before she could ask Marianna anything more, Big Ed Atcitty, the chief of police, appeared in the doorway.

“My office, Investigator Clah,” he said without preamble.

Ella thanked Marianna, then followed Big Ed down the hall. Along the way she met Justine, who’d apparently also been summoned.
It was going to be a busy Saturday.

As they stepped into his office, Big Ed glanced at Justine, the last to come in. “Close the door, Officer Goodluck.” Their broad-chested superior stepped behind his desk and took a seat, motioning them both toward chairs.

“I received a one-of-a-kind phone call this morning,” he said. “At first I thought it was someone playing a joke on me. FBI in Washington
doesn’t generally communicate directly with the tribal police. If it’s important, they contact us through Blalock.” Big Ed stared at the swinging pendulum of a cuckoo clock his wife had given him last Christmas. Silence stretched out.