Shooting Chant (26 page)

“I don’t know. But that infant never had a chance and that makes me sick.”

Carolyn said nothing, but her eagle-sharp eyes remained on Ella.

As they joined the cafeteria line, Ella took the beef enchilada plate, the salad, and milk. She still couldn’t quite get over the fact that she was actually drinking cow’s milk. It certainly wasn’t a drink most Navajos normally sought
out, and it had never been something she particularly liked. It was supposed to be too early in her pregnancy to have cravings, so she wrote it off as an instinctive urge to eat a better balanced diet for the baby.

By the time she reached the cashier at the end of the line, her tray included sliced peaches and a banana.

“Boy, you really are hungry,” Carolyn said.

“Yeah. I’ve been running around
like crazy, and I never get a chance to eat a decent meal, particularly a balanced one. Today was even worse than usual.”

“Have you heard about the other livestock problems? I mean besides what people have been doing to each other’s animals.”

“No, what’s going on?”

“Apparently a rash of deformities has shown up in newborn chickens, ducks, and rabbits. The county extension agent paid us a visit.
He’s looking into it because the incidence rate is way up, and he wanted to know if we’d also seen an unusual upswing of birth defects here at the hospital.”

“Have you?”

“Nope. Our numbers on that are no higher than usual. Of course, the gestation periods of the farm animals we’re talking about is roughly a month, give or take a few days.”

“What do you think is causing this problem?” Ella asked.
Unlike the traditionalists who undoubtedly had their own theories by now, Carolyn would never blame anything on the esoteric, and right now she was interested in cold, hard facts.

“It could be anything from a statistical fluke, to bad breeding habits or poor stock selection among locals.”

Ella said nothing. A sense of disquiet ate at her, but she pushed it aside, attributing it to a flux in
her hormones.

“I’ve known you for a very long time, and I can tell when you’re holding back on me. What is it that you’re not saying?”

“You’re right. There’s something I haven’t told you, but I’d like you to keep this under wraps for now.”

“You’ve got it.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Carolyn’s eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. “I’m speechless.”

“That’s a first.”

“How did this happen?”

“The usual way, Doctor,” Ella teased.

Carolyn laughed. “Wow. I can’t believe this. It would explain your queasiness lately, though. Are you happy about it, or pulling your hair out by the roots?”

“Both,” she said. “I admit I was careless, and it certainly wasn’t planned. But, you know, I’m really glad things turned out this way.”

“Is Kevin the dad? He’s the only guy
you’ve ever been even remotely serious about since you came back to the Rez.”

“Yes, it’s Kevin. The poor man is still trying to figure out how to take the news. He wanted to get married when I told him, but there’s no way that’s going to happen. When we first started to date, all I could see were the things we had in common, but, as time went by, what we
didn’t
have in common overshadowed everything
else. He can play as big a part in the baby’s life as he wants, but marriage between us wouldn’t work in the long run.”

Carolyn nodded, and then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I want the baby to know me as Aunt Carolyn. I assume you won’t have any objections to that.”

Realizing it hadn’t been a question, Ella laughed. “Why do I get the feeling that if I said no, you’d start
reciting a list of the favors I owe you?” She raised a hand, stemming Carolyn’s reply. “Of course you’ll be Aunt Carolyn. You’re a dear friend of mine. What’s part of my life is also part of yours.” Ella paused. “Of course when I ask you to baby-sit for the umpteenth time, you may change your mind.”

“Never.”

Ella sighed, finishing the last bit of her meal. “But now you know why all these deaths
are weighing me down. I want my child born during a time of harmony, not during a time of trouble. I hope I can close those cases out before then.”

“Not to mention that it would be really handy if you could take off work the last trimester and make things easier on yourself.”

Ella smiled. Carolyn always had a gift for getting to the heart of the matter. “Taking time off until the last possible
moment is out of the question. I’m always juggling too many cases, and there’s no one who can take over. On top of everything else, Harry Ute is thinking of quitting and going to work for the feds.”

“That man has been on the Rez all his life,” she said. “That’s probably why he wants to do something different for a change.”

“I guess, but it’s going to make things really tough for me.”

“Does
he know you’re pregnant and will need maternity leave?”

“Not many people know I’m pregnant. Just Kevin, Mom, and you. And Wilson, who found out by accident.”

“Big Ed’s going to be delighted, no doubt,” she said wryly.

“Yeah. I have a feeling I’m going to need a spatula to scrape him off the ceiling,” Ella said.

Carolyn checked her watch, then stood up. “I better get back to work. If you want
autopsy reports anytime soon, I’m going to have to start tonight. With luck I may have something for you by tomorrow.”

“I need some leads—badly,” Ella said.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Ella watched her friend go, then stood and walked out to her tribal unit. Looking at her watch in the glow of the parking lot light, she realized it was a bit past nine. She considered going to Jesse Woody’s
before calling it quits tonight since this was such a good time to catch him at home. As one of the few Navajo supervisors at the mines, and also the current leader of the Fierce Ones, he was usually busy during the day and evenings. Tired but not in the least bit sleepy, Ella decided to head out to his house, and see if she could catch up to him there.

Ella verified his address with the PD then
sped down the darkened highway. Pushing her worries back into the far corners of her mind, she concentrated on the empty road, which was illuminated only by the vehicle’s headlights and the full moon.

*   *   *

Ella arrived at Jesse Woody’s home an hour later and was surprised to see so many vehicles parked there. She glanced at the cars and pickups, checking to see if any looked familiar. In
the dark, it was hard to see them all. The lights were on inside the low wood-framed house and she could hear loud voices. Wondering if she had inadvertently come at a time when the Fierce Ones were meeting, she left her unit to see for herself.

As she started up the stone outlined path to the front door, Jesse Woody came out and met her.

“What brings you here tonight, Investigator? Surely no
one complained about the noise. Our home is at least five miles from our closest neighbor.”

Ella noticed that the sound level inside had suddenly dropped. “Am I interrupting something?” Ella asked.

“Just a small gathering of friends dropping by.”

“A weekday party, is that it?”

“You bet. Now what can I do for you?”

Ella opened the envelope in her hand, brought out a pocket flashlight, and
showed him a photo of the man she’d been forced to shoot and kill at the landfill. “I understand that you know this man.”

Jesse looked at the photo, pushed her flashlight aside, and took a step back. “You know better than to bring something like that here.”

“Keep in mind that I could have asked you to view the body instead of just the photo. Now talk to me. Do you know him?”

“No.”

“Think again,
very carefully this time. Obstructing justice is a serious offense, and could result in some jail time for you.”

Jesse met her gaze with a steely one of his own. “If you already know the answer, then why bother asking me?”

“I want his name—not the name he went by, his
real
name.”

Jesse gave her a startled look. “I’m not sure what you mean. He told me his name was Tom LaPoint.”

“Where did he
work?”

Jesse shrugged. “Maybe nowhere. He came by the mine several times during the past few weeks, and tried to get me to hire him. I didn’t formally interview him or consider him for a job because he never filed an employee application.”

“Do you usually fraternize with people who are asking you for a job?” she asked, playing a bluff.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Be more specific.”

“I have a better
idea. You start being more specific, and I won’t haul you to the station in Shiprock.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t threaten me.”

“It wasn’t a threat. It’s a guarantee. Ask anyone inside if I ever bluff.”

Jesse said nothing for several long moments. “I saw him at the mine on a few occasions, as I said. The only other time I met him was once when I took my horse for a ride out into the desert.
The guy was out there in an old pickup, driving up and down the dry arroyos, passing the time. He followed me home afterwards, which I didn’t like. I wanted him away from here, so I accepted his invitation to meet him at the Totah Cafe. We had a cup of coffee, then I left.”

“What did you two talk about?”

“He was curious about life on the Rez. He said I was lucky because I would always have a
place to call home and that was something a lot of people didn’t have these days. I reminded him that the U.S. government restricted us to this place a long time ago, and that it wasn’t our choice to live on a reservation. He then talked a bit about freedom for minorities, but, as he spoke, I got the distinct impression that this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. As he said repeatedly,
he didn’t belong here. I finally asked him why he stuck around and, after a few moments of thinking about it, he told me that, for now, this was where he was supposed to be.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“Beats me. Maybe he was getting metaphysical. I just wanted to go home, and asking him would have meant staying even longer at the Totah Cafe.”

“You really have no idea what he was referring
to?”

“No, I don’t, and I’m being honest with you. The guy was a weird one. He struck me as one of these dispossessed people who wants to be part of something, but has no idea what. So they go from one thing to the next without any kind of plan or direction.”

Ella nodded. She’d met people like that before. “Thanks for your help.”

Ella was about to call it a night when her brother Clifford came
out of the house and walked over to them.

“Sister,” he said, then glanced at Jesse. “I think she should come in and hear what’s been happening.”

Jesse shook his head. “She’s your sister, but she’s also a cop. Tonight she’s here on business, not as a friend.”

“The police department is not our enemy,” Clifford said calmly, then looked at Ella. “Come inside with us.”

Ella looked at Jesse, who
nodded curtly, obviously still against the idea, but unwilling to argue with Clifford about it.

When Ella stepped inside the Woody’s home, she saw several men she recognized, including Billy Pete. At least four of them were wearing knives at their belts. It wasn’t uncommon out here for men to have hunting or folding knives with them, but it made her a bit edgy. Someone who looked like Jimmie
Herder was in the kitchen, but she only caught a glimpse before he stepped back out of her view.

“Tonight, we met here as friends who share the same concern,” Clifford said. “Nothing more.”

Ella understood the warning not to bring up the Fierce Ones, or mention them as a group.

“Lilly Mae Atso came by here several days ago and spoke to Jesse,” Clifford said. “She was very worried because she’d
taken her goats to the fairgrounds to feed on the hay and grain leftover from the livestock show and, while there, noticed a lot of dead insects and some baby birds that had died in their nest. She was convinced that the fairgrounds have become evil and wanted us to warn others.”

“Remember that the Anglo man from the plant got killed in the parking lot not far from there,” Jesse said.

“What
makes you think these things are related?” Ella asked.

“You know better than to ask that,” Clifford clipped.

“She doesn’t see the link because she believes, like many others, that
we
had something to do with that Anglo’s death,” Jesse spat out, disgusted. “But that’s just not true. We want Navajos to get the high-paying jobs on the reservation, but we don’t kill people in order to make that
happen.”

“Relax. I haven’t accused anyone,” Ella said firmly.

“Let me continue and maybe you’ll begin to see the connections,” Clifford said. “Evil corrupts and that’s exactly what’s been happening. Our people have started turning against each other and traditionalists are blamed for a lot of things we know they couldn’t have done.”

“You’re talking about the livestock killings, right?” Seeing
her brother nod, she added, “Do you have any evidence that proves the traditionalists in question were framed?” she asked.

“Not your type of evidence, but do you realize that every single instance of violence tracks back to the fairgrounds in one way or another?”

“The animals were killed on their owner’s property.”

“Yes, but all the people involved in the trouble were present at the fairgrounds
exhibition at one point or another during the two-day event.”

“I know. They were competing against each other and, as I understand it, the main source of contention seems to be the methods used to breed and raise the animals. But trying to link the violence to the fairgrounds itself is reaching.”

Clifford shook his head. “The evil that’s at work there fosters violence. Each one of those people
is gentle by nature. Can’t you see that there’s more working here than mere differences of opinion?”

“I’m a cop, and I deal only with hard facts, not spiritual beliefs. If you want me to look into something specific…”

“I’m telling you what you need to do to find answers, Sister. You can’t just focus on one aspect. Look beyond that—”