Mourning Dove (22 page)

Seeing the badge pinned at her belt,
he waved her to a seat. “What can I do for you, Officer . . .”

Ella introduced herself. “No doubt you’ve heard all about the homicide. I’m looking into Jimmy Blacksheep’s death.”

“Yes, ma’am, I have. Blacksheep was a strange kid, but a good soldier who did his job when it mattered,” he said. “How can I help? You thinking that the carjacking and my hit-and-run cases intersect somehow?”

“No,
I’m just looking for answers to some incidental questions that have cropped up during our investigation,” she answered, not wanting to give out any unnecessary information. Officer Smith was a dark-haired Anglo with hazel eyes. In his late thirties, she thought him a bit old for the National Guard. Perhaps Officer Smith had needed the extra income. His smile was wooden, and he seemed ill at ease with
her. She wasn’t sure if that
was because of the usual jurisdictional turf thing that often cropped up between departments, or something more.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be to you, Detective Clah. I look into hit-and-runs, track down witnesses, follow up on reports, and that’s pretty much it. I worked traffic before my tour in Iraq, but this is where I want to be now.”

“There’s plenty
to do here from what I see,” she said, glancing at the stack of files on his desk.

“Yeah, and providing my luck holds, I’ll never have to shoot another person again,” Smith added.

“That’s what we all want,” she said quietly.

“In a hit-and-run, an officer has more control over what situations he’s walking into than in a patrol car,” Louis answered. “But enough of that. How can I help you? Jimmy
and I weren’t buddies, though I shared quarters with him and the rest of the section for a while.”

“I’m thinking that if I can get inside his head I may be able to figure out what went down the other day.”

“That’s a tough one even for those who knew him. Jimmy was hard to get a handle on. He could have made it a lot easier on himself if he’d played his cards right. But he liked keeping everyone
at arm’s length—standoffish, you get me? He was a good soldier though. Completed his missions and helped keep us all alive. That was enough,” Smith said.

“What do you mean about making things easier on himself and playing his cards right?” Ella pressed.

“His brother, FPD Officer Samuel Blacksheep, was Sergeant Sanders’s partner on the force for several years. Sanders was the lieutenant of our
platoon, and also had the responsibility for the company’s base security while we were overseas. Lieutenant—well, here, Sergeant Sanders—was willing, at first, to cut Samuel’s brother a little slack, but Jimmy wouldn’t have it. Took his turn with every crap assignment just like the rest of us, though he was
given the opportunity to pull some lighter duty. That earned everyone’s respect, even his
sergeant’s. I don’t know why Jimmy didn’t go for it, but maybe he didn’t want to owe anyone.”

“How well do Sanders and Blacksheep get along now?”

Officer Smith shrugged. “Naturally Blacksheep got another partner when Sanders shipped out, and Sanders is working with somebody else now. But I’ve heard that the two are still good friends and get together after duty hours.”

“Getting back to the
Guard—in Iraq. How often did equipment, supplies, and stuff like that go missing over there?” Ella said.

“War’s messy,” he answered flatly. “Things went missing all the time—including people.”

“I understand a few of the soldiers found inventive ways to make up for lost income from their civilian jobs.”

“Yeah, some did.” He leaned back and gave her a long, calculating look. “But what happened
overseas stays there as far as I’m concerned. It’s up to the Army to deal with those issues, so I don’t think you’ll find many who’ll talk to you about that.”

“Is there anyone else around here who might be able to tell me more about Jimmy and his life leading up to the events of the other day? Especially for the time he spent in the Guard?”

Officer Smith lapsed into a long silence, and she was
about to press him when she heard footsteps behind her. Smith looked up, and Ella turned her head. Sergeant Calvin Sanders was standing in the doorway. “Clah, will you come with me, please?”

It hadn’t been a request, but she wasn’t his subordinate, so she took her time responding. “Any place where I can get a cup of coffee first, Sanders?” she asked casually.

He didn’t answer, but cocked his
head down the hall. They reached his office a short time later. Though they’d walked down several corridors, Sanders hadn’t said a word. Finally, after she entered his office, he kicked the door shut with the tip of his boot.

“You do
not
walk into
my
department and talk to
my
people
without
my
permission—particularly men that I served with overseas,” he said, glowering at her.

“I didn’t see
Chief of Police on
your
door, Sergeant, and you don’t sign my paycheck. My investigation is none of your business—unless you have something to hide,” Ella countered. His face started getting red, but she continued. “My investigation points to events that happened before Jimmy came home, so I’m going to keep digging.”

Considering the vein on his forehead was bulging, Ella was surprised when he
waited so long before responding. “Your investigation points to
carjackings
that have been going on for months. The evidence is there in front of all our faces. Why don’t we stop trying to pee on each other’s street corner and join forces so we can shut those jerks down? Our department has doubled our early morning patrols and has questioned all the perps in our area who’ve been previously convicted
of car theft. What is your PD doing?”

“Our job,” she said, and stood up. “Right now I’m investigating a murder, and
that’s
my priority.”

“Let us help,” Sanders countered.

“Good idea. You can start by not getting in my way.”

“You were talking to one of my men about things that went on overseas. You overstepped your bounds,” he snapped.

“We disagree on that,” Ella said. “And you should know
not to interfere in a murder investigation.”

“Why are you complicating things, Clah? It’s all right there in front of you. Jimmy Blacksheep, less than three weeks out of a war zone, blew his cool and reacted instead of thinking. In the armed forces, reacting can save your butt because the bad guys
are
after you. But in civilian life, resisting a simple robbery is stupid. In this case, it got
him killed.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” she said.

“Why do you insist on making this about Iraq?”

“I’m not
making
it about anything. What I’m doing is following
the evidence.” She had no intention of telling Sanders about the story Jimmy had mailed her. The sergeant was still a suspect.

“Look at it logically—the guy felt squirrely enough to want to buy a gun for his return trip,”
Sanders insisted. “When the carjackers stopped him, fighting was the first thing on his mind. Jimmy wasn’t about to put his life in somebody else’s hands, not so soon after Iraq. Don’t you get that?”

“That’s one explanation. We just can’t prove it yet. But keep in mind that it’s equally possible that he had something in his car he didn’t want anyone to take from him.”

“Like what?” Sanders pressed.

“Makes you wonder. It’s an interesting theory, don’t you think?”

“You were asking Smith about missing supplies and equipment overseas. How’s that tie into anything?”

Things were starting to get sticky. Sanders obviously had no idea that Jimmy had sent her a package—which, of course, raised other interesting questions, like why hadn’t Jimmy sent the package to his brother or spoken to Sanders
about whatever had been worrying him. Ultimately, had he considered one or both a threat? He obviously hadn’t trusted them.

“I’d better be going,” Ella said.

“Listen, we’re on the same side,” he said in a more conciliatory tone. “Private Blacksheep served in my platoon, and I want to catch whoever killed him. Unfortunately, I’ve just been assigned to desk duty to catch up on paperwork for a
few days. But I’ll be consulting with the officer taking my place in the field. I’ll still be in the loop so if you need support from our department, like backup or technical assistance, all you have to do is ask and I’ll make sure it goes through channels quickly.”

“Who’s covering for you?”

“Officer Samuel Blacksheep.”

Ella stared at him. “How the heck did that happen?”

“It wasn’t my idea,
but he was putting a lot of heat on the supervisor and the rest of the higher-ups. They came to the conclusion that it was better to channel his energy for a while, and, as a Navajo, Officer Blacksheep was the ideal choice as short-term liaison between our department and yours. He’s got a rep for being a good officer and a team player. Between you and me, this is a workable solution. We know he
would have been involved anyway, but at least this way he’ll have plenty of others keeping an eye on him. And, after a few days, I’ll be back with the unit and Blacksheep will return to the traffic unit.”

“It’s their call,” Ella said dubiously, “not mine or yours. How do
you
feel about Samuel being given your assignment right now?”

Sanders gave Ella a long look. “Samuel Blacksheep and I were
friends for many years, but things have changed between him and me since I got back. He expected me to keep an eye on Jimmy, and the kid got back in one piece, but first thing back, he gets himself killed. I think Samuel feels that I somehow missed seeing a threat that was following his brother home. He’ll bring that viewpoint into the investigation. Maybe he needs that now in order to deal with
his own issues.”

“So Samuel doesn’t buy the carjacking thing?”

“He believes that it’s just one aspect of a much larger case, and for the next day or two, he’ll be working to prove those theories.”

Before long, Ella pulled out of the station, questions swirling in her mind like snow flurries caught in the wind. Trying to figure out who was manipulating who, on and off the police force, was certainly
getting to be a puzzle in itself. Knowing that answers always came more easily when she didn’t force them, she allowed her thoughts to drift.

Her next step would be to find out more about Juanita Betoni. The woman probably knew more about both brothers than anyone
else around, at least concerning the nature of their relationship and their attitude toward each other. Ella called Justine and had
her look up Juanita’s whereabouts, then report back with the information.

A short time later Ella arrived at the hospital in Shiprock where Juanita Betoni worked as a geriatric nurse. Ella turned her cell phone off in accordance with hospital restrictions, then went inside. Justine had called and arranged for a meeting, so Ella followed the directions she’d been given and took the elevator upstairs
to the nurse’s station.

“Can I help you?” a young Navajo woman with big, soulful eyes asked, looking up from her filing.

“I’m looking for Juanita Betoni,” Ella said, identifying herself, then noted the nurse’s name tag, and smiled. “Guess I found you.”

“I’ve been expecting you, Investigator Clah,” Juanita said with a quirky half smile, then added, “You’ve got perfect timing. It’s time for my
break. You want to go to the snack room? I’m a quart low on coffee at the moment. It’s almost eleven-thirty now, and I need a sandwich and coffee.”

As they walked down the hall, Ella studied Juanita. She was in her late twenties and slim, with an abundance of charisma that transcended her looks. Juanita appeared to be both confident and vulnerable—a combination she suspected men found very appealing.

They entered a small lounge equipped with vending machines and Juanita bought herself and Ella a cup of coffee and a sandwich. “I’ve been expecting you to come by, Officer Clah. I knew that, sooner or later, you’d track me down. I’m so sorry about what happened to Jimmy.”

“I need to talk to you about Jimmy
and
Samuel,” Ella said, taking a large bite out of the stale sandwich. It was better than
nothing, but not by much.

Juanita nodded. “Jimmy and I dated for a few months before
he went overseas. We were really just friends. But, as we corresponded, his letters began to change. He got very intense, telling me he wanted to settle down after he got back and how much I meant to him. He was going way beyond what I wanted our relationship to be.”

Ella waited as Juanita lapsed into a thoughtful
silence and finished her sandwich. She was just about to press her to continue, when Juanita did so on her own.

“All things considered, I think his perspective changed because of where he was, but I’d been happy with the way things were. So I decided it was time to call it quits. I didn’t want to lead him on. But knowing Jimmy was in a war zone, I started getting worried that he’d go nuts and
end up doing something stupid and dangerous. That would have been just like Jimmy. That’s why I went to talk to Samuel. I was hoping he could give me some advice on how to handle things.”

“So what happened?” Ella asked.

“At first we just talked, going out for coffee. He was kind and we got along, right from the beginning—more so than Jimmy and I ever had. Samuel was so much more mature. Then
one thing led to another and our stops for coffee became more . . . involved. We were careful, but somehow Jimmy found out, maybe from a girlfriend of another soldier in his unit who knew me. We’d been in contact off and on—you know, mutual support for the guys. After that, Jimmy started sending me really abusive e-mails. Samuel got a look at them, and told Jimmy to grow up, and to take it up with
him if he had a problem.”

Juanita took a sip of coffee, then looked down at her hands before speaking again. “I’m not sure what happened after that. I stopped hearing from Jimmy and Samuel wouldn’t discuss it. I was really afraid that when Jimmy got back he’d find Samuel and they’d square off someplace. Now Jimmy’s dead, and Samuel’s determined to catch whoever did it. It’s one thing for them
to be at odds with each other—they were family, and that’s what happens
to brothers sometimes. But the way things stand, there’s no way Samuel will rest until his brother’s killer is behind bars.”