Tracking Bear (18 page)

Ella and Justine returned to the station, and Ella had just sat down on her office chair when Sergeant Neskahi appeared at the door. “Ella, that training woman, Bruno, called about a half hour ago, and left this number for you to call back. She said it was about today’s workshop session.”

“Thanks, Joseph.” Ella took the note with the number he handed her. “Hang around a second, and I’ll be able to let you know if the session is on for today.”

Ella punched in the cell phone number, one she recognized already, and the ex-policewoman answered by the second ring. “Bruno,” the woman answered cryptically.

Ella listened to the instructions Bruno gave her, then disconnected the call and
looked up at the sergeant. “The training exercise is on for ten-thirty this morning. She wants us to pick up a note that she’s leaving for us at the security office in the Navajo power plant, and asked us to come together, and not be late. But she wouldn’t say what the training topic was.”

“Any ideas?” Neskahi asked.

“No, but obviously it must have something to do with the power plant itself.
My guess is that it’s some sort of a combined forces drill, our team and plant security.” She looked at her watch. “It’s less than a fifteen-minute trip if we make good time, so maybe we should get the team together now, spend a few minutes trying to figure out what she may be planning, then ride over in the crime-scene van.”

Neskahi nodded. “A good officer goes over the possibilities and knows
his options ahead of time. I’ll go find Tache. Is Justine back in the lab?”

Ella nodded. “I’ll tell the chief where we’ll be, then go by the lab and get her. We’ll meet at the van in five.”

In four minutes Ella and Justine arrived in the small fenced-in area where the crime-scene van, a small RV with special facilities, was parked. She and Justine climbed into the vehicle to join the two
men, already seated up front.

“What is
yálti’í nééz
cooking up for us today, Ella?” Officer Tache asked as he started the engine. “The sergeant said it might be some kind of combined drill, maybe like a takeover or hostage situation.”

Ella laughed, noting the Navajo term, a kind of nickname, really, that meant “tall talker.” It certainly applied to Margaret Bruno.

“Anybody read through their
green training folders yet?” Justine asked, looking at their blank faces. “That’s what I thought. Well, I did, and one of the sessions she suggested was meant to evaluate our response to a simulated act of sabotage or violence from an individual who goes postal. My guess is that Bruno is going to set up some sort of imaginary threat that we’ll have to counter.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.” Ella
looked around at their faces from her small jump seat in the back beside Justine. “Any more thoughts?”

“I think she’ll manipulate events to make sure we lose,” Ralph said. “Bruno struck me as an ex-cop with an ego, maybe a little excess self-esteem. We did pretty well last time on the paper exercises, and already knew the answers to most of her questions. She’ll want to remind us this time that
she’s the ‘expert,’ if only to justify her training sessions,” he said, then after a brief pause, added, “I think she’s competing with you, Ella. She wants us to see her as the authority figure, but you have a hell of a lot more experience than she does and already know the jargon.”

“I agree with Ralph,” Neskahi said. “No offense, but I find women associated with law enforcement are extremely
competitive, for a lot of reasons we already know. But how can we make sure we beat Bruno at her own game?”

Ella glanced over at Justine to see if she agreed with the men’s assessment. Her assistant nodded, adding, “I think there’s a lot of truth in what the boys are saying, boss. How are we going to make sure we win? Cheat?”

“No,” she said, chuckling. “Let’s play this out by Bruno’s rules,
at least this time. My ego is secure. Besides, we’re a great team, and if anyone can pull off an impossible training exercise, we can.”

They all exited the van immediately, gathering around Ella outside the security office. “Okay, boss. What now?” Justine asked.

“We’re guessing that Bruno is almost certainly around here somewhere, in disguise because otherwise that Amazon would really stand
out. If she is, that means she’s either going to play the bad guy, or try to observe us without us knowing it’s her. I’m betting she’s the bad guy in this upcoming drill. It’s in keeping with everyone’s estimate of her personality. Now let’s go pick up that note.”

Ella led the way into the security office, a small room attached to the main plant facility, a massive structure several stories high
and covering several acres adjacent to the large lake that provided coolant water.

Ella looked up from the note. “Okay, team, here it is. Without clearing the facility, which can’t be done except in a real emergency, we’re supposed to find Bruno, who’s playing the role of a disturbed former employee planning on setting off a bomb. There’ll be a major explosion unless we ‘kill’ her with a paintball
hit before she sets it off, which will be at 11
A.M
., less than fourteen minutes from now.” Ella took another look at the paintball gun she had picked up from the security desk, along with Bruno’s note, which had, according to the security man at the desk, been left there by Shives earlier. The three other members of the team had similar weapons, each capable of only one shot.

“How will we know
when this ‘bomb’ goes off—if we lose?” Neskahi asked.

“We won’t lose. It says to avoid scaring the employees, instead of a loud bang we’ll hear a well-known Doors tune from her location. ‘Light My Fire’ would be my guess. But enough of that, we need to track Bruno down before the time runs out. We’ll make good use of the cell phones the community-policing program has provided.”

She pointed to
a sign on the wall listing power plant offices and their phone numbers. “Justine, call the guardhouse at the gate and see if Bruno or any visitors came into the plant this morning, when they arrived, and where they were headed or might be right now. Ralph, call the administrative offices, and see if anyone saw Bruno or Shives this morning. Joseph, you call the control room and do the same. Make
it quick, people.”

Ella made a fast call to Delbert Shives’s office, hoping to find out something from his secretary. Shives knew Bruno, and the chemist had probably helped her facilitate the exercise through his superiors. Shives’s secretary might have seen them today and still not have been cautioned to keep their location a secret from the SI team.

Ella punched out the number, and was still
trying to get a connection when Justine turned toward her again, putting away her own phone.

“I’ve got something, boss. Bruno must have arrived with Delbert Shives disguised as a male school teacher, unless we’re being victimized by a terrible coincidence. The person with Shives was a tall blonde wearing sunglasses, a cowboy hat, denim jacket, and brown Western-cut jeans,” Justine added.

Joseph
Neskahi turned to listen, already having disconnected his call. “Nobody saw anyone but regular staff in the control room, which is off-limits normally anyway.”

Ralph was still on the phone, but had tuned in on their conversation and nodded to show he’d heard.

Ella looked at her watch, then finally ended the call attempt. “I couldn’t get anyone to pick up the phone at Shives’s office, so that
wasn’t much help. Bruno’s probably already made herself scarce, hiding out somewhere until eleven o’clock, when she says she’ll be setting off the ‘bomb.’ Even if she took off her disguise, she’d stand out around here among all the nonblondes. We couldn’t hear any music from most of the power plant area and farther south where the coal is brought in, and I think she’d want us to know we’d failed
just to make a dramatic point. I think the administrative and support areas are our best bet.” Ella took off down the hall, and the others followed.

Ralph finally ended his call. “The secretary at Administration said that Shives and the teacher with him went into his office as soon as he arrived, and nobody saw the teacher come out again, though Shives left about twenty minutes ago.”

“Shives’s
office is our best bet, then. I’ll go there, and you three check out all the employee rest rooms you can find. Facilities like that are good places for bombers to hide when they need some privacy.”

The rest of the team hurried away, and Ella followed the signs on the wall to the area where Delbert Shives had his office. She’d just entered the lobby when Shives’s door slammed shut and the booming
sound of a fast-moving Doors tune, “L.A. Woman,” came from within. Ella had come to hate that song after she’d first returned to the Rez. Navajos here, looking at her as an outsider, had given her the nickname L.A. Woman because she’s served at the FBI office in Los Angeles. Ella knew it was no coincidence that Bruno had selected it. The woman had really done her homework.

Bruno appeared at the
door, open now, wearing slacks and a colorful blouse, her long blond hair combed out and gleaming. She was holding a big portable CD player with powerful speakers. Ella couldn’t hear anything but Jim Morrison, but was able to read Bruno’s lips. “You lose,” Bruno mouthed. Then she smiled.

Ella nodded coldly, wondering if the tribe would make her repeat the training if she gave Bruno a black eye.

Still unable to believe that they’d failed the exercise, Ella looked at her watch, her heart still beating fast with excitement and anger. Her mouth fell open. Then she looked at a clock on the wall. Both timepieces showed that it was only 10:55. Bruno had cheated, and set the “bomb” off five minutes early.

An hour and a half later, Ella was back at her office. She’d managed to remain civil
through the briefing and evaluation conducted by Bruno in Shives’s office, and something in her expression during the quiet trip back had kept her team from ever mentioning the particular tune Bruno had chosen. Ella could sense, however, that they were all in agreement about two things—Margaret Bruno’s training sessions weren’t boring, and two, the woman was a devious bitch.

Ella glanced at her
watch, something she’d been doing more than usual today. She’d missed breakfast, but maybe she could still find time for a late lunch. She picked up the phone and dialed Carolyn Roanhorse. The ME picked it up on the first ring.

“I already sent the Redhouse autopsy report to your office, Ella. There was not much more to find, really. Massive trauma from the bullet Justine recovered was the cause
of death, all right, and she’s probably already given you the criminalistics analysis on it.”

“I wasn’t calling about work, Carolyn. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s past lunchtime,” Ella teased. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and have had one hell of a morning. How about getting away for a while? If you’ve already had lunch, at least come with me and I’ll buy you dessert.”

“Hey, that’s a
terrific idea. I’m running late myself, and still haven’t eaten.” She paused, then added, “But it’ll have to be off the Rez. I’m not that welcome at restaurants or coffee shops here.”

“You’ve got it. Shall I pick you up, or do we meet somewhere?”

“I’ll meet you over at Con Chile on West Main in Farmington. Know the place?”

“I’ve been by there. Sounds good to me.”

About forty-five minutes later
they sat at one of the corner tables inside the small diner. Carolyn’s large proportions made it nearly impossible for her to be comfortable in a booth, but Ella preferred tables anyway. As a cop, she’d learned to keep an unobstructed view of her surroundings while in public, and booths always had two blind spots.

After ordering, Carolyn sat back and regarded Ella thoughtfully. “Okay, give. What’s
this all about? Do you need a special favor? If so, you may have to pay for my entire lunch, and I brought a big appetite.”

Ella laughed. “No, that’s not it. Believe it or not, I suddenly realized that all I ever do is work, and that I’d forgotten what it’s like to get together with someone other than family.”

Carolyn’s gaze softened. “It was worse for me, until I got married and at least had
someone to come home to. But to tell you the truth, most days I’m too drained to do much else except go home and try to forget about work.”

“I hear you,” Ella said with a nod. “It’s not supposed to be like this, you know.”

“Says who?” Carolyn smiled. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to become an ME for the tribe. And you must have known what being a cop entailed.”

Ella nodded slowly.
“Sure, and when I was younger I loved all the demands work made, but now it can get pretty overwhelming at times. I still love being a detective. Don’t get me wrong. It’s what I was meant to do. Sometimes I hear people talking about their jobs, saying things like ‘work isn’t who you are—it’s what you do.’ But, to me, it’s all wrapped up together—inseparable. The problem is that I have Dawn
to think about now, and I’m always worrying that I’m not doing enough for her.”

“Dawn adores you, and she’s a great kid. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t spend enough time with her, and she’s growing up so fast.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad mother—it makes you a modern one who has to juggle many things in her life.”

“I wonder if it isn’t time for me to find another line of work. Maybe
it’s a sacrifice I should make for her.”

“You wouldn’t be happy anywhere else, Ella, and being miserable isn’t going to make you a better mom. What we’ve always had in common is that work is the fabric of our world—it defines and fulfills us. In that way, I’d say you and I are luckier than the majority of the population. We both have an incredible sense of purpose. And that’s exactly what makes
you a great mom.”

“When I’m working a case, putting in long overtime hours, I sure don’t feel that way.”

“There are plenty of times I don’t feel like I’m a great wife to Mike. For what it’s worth, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about moving away from the Rez and taking a permanent vacation.”

“What keeps you here?”

Carolyn smiled. “The same thing that keeps you from moving away
and taking another job. I
belong
here, though that might sound strange coming from someone who isn’t welcome in most homes on the Rez. Although my job requires me to be in close contact with the dead, and that makes me a pariah of sorts, I do have my place. I’m doing something that’s both needed and essential.”