Wind Spirit [Ella Clah 10] (8 page)

“That’s an understatement. I heard about his proposals,” Big Ed replied. “Now go. And save time by taking your crime-scene team with you.”

“Are Justine and the others here at the station now?” she asked.

“Justine is in the lab. Ralph Tache was in the lunchroom last time I saw him. I’m not sure where Joseph Neskahi is.”

“I’ll find him.”

Sergeant Joseph Neskahi was usually harder to find than the others because he routinely did double duty. If the crime-scene team wasn’t currently working on an active case, he would shift back to his job as a patrol officer. The shortage of manpower these days meant that many of them wore several hats.

Today, it took her less than five minutes to assemble her team. Unlike it was for the public, weekends for the crime-scene unit usually meant time to catch up on paperwork.

On the way to the site, Ella drove her own unit while Justine followed in the crime-scene van with Tache. Neskahi was out on patrol south of Sheep Springs and would meet them there as soon as possible.

Ella drove quickly, but not at top speed. There was no urgency since the scene couldn’t be processed until the fire was completely out. The structure, what was left of it, would also need a chance to cool. The one thing they’d be able to do right away was interview potential witnesses and firemen. That was usually a very effective way to get quick answers, providing the questions were worded right. Over the years she’d learned that people often saw more than they realized.

As they drove up the long dirt road that led to the Hunts’ house, Ella could see emergency vehicles ahead. A thin column of dark gray smoke was streaming from the center of the ruined building into the clear blue sky. As she got closer, Ella could see the modern, wood-framed single-story house had been gutted, though the outline was still essentially intact. Firemen in dirty tan turn-outs and helmets worked inside the shell of what had once been an upper middle-class home.

Ella parked about fifteen feet from the smaller of two fire trucks. She’d just stepped out of her unit when Louise Sorrelhorse, a middle-aged woman wearing loose dark slacks and a light blue, long-sleeved blouse, rushed over to her.

Louise’s face was spotted with soot and she smelled like smoke, which was understandable. “They haven’t found her yet! And no one knows where the councilman is. Make them work faster.”

Ella saw the desperate fear in her eyes. “I’m sure the fire crew is going through the building as fast as they can,” Ella said. “If the owner is in there, it won’t take them long to find the—” Ella stopped short before adding the word “body.” She didn’t know for certain the woman had been at home, and there was no sense in upsetting Louise even more than
she already was. But the truth was that no one could have survived a fire of that magnitude.

“Look at that place,” Louise whispered.

The flames had been extinguished and now the air was filled with the damp, acrid smell of charred wood. Steam rose over residual hot spots that had been covered with water. It reminded Ella of an artist’s image of Hell. As it was at any crime scene, imbalance and disharmony now permeated everything here.

“They should have tried harder to get inside,” Louise said, crying softly as she stared at the destruction. “She didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“Are you positive she was in there?”

“If she’d planned on going out today she would have told me. We had a schedule. She was very organized. The reason her car’s not there is probably because her brother has it. He borrows it often.”

“How long have you worked for the councilman’s wife?”

“For about two years now. She doesn’t like strangers so I’m paid very well to come every day. On weekends I usually arrive in the late afternoon to help her bathe, and so on.”

“Were you two close?”

“Not really. She was my employer but we had a good working relationship. I could read her really well. I could always tell when she needed cheering up or was upset about something.”

“Had she been disturbed about anything lately?”

“No, not at all. She talked a lot about working in her garden and, yesterday, she bought dozens of seed packets.” Louise wiped her tears away with a rumpled handkerchief. “Now . . . it’s over.”

The words struck close to Ella’s heart. For those faced with death was there always a feeling of being cheated by time? She pushed that thought back and focused on the situation.

As she looked around, Ella saw that Justine had arrived and was already talking to Chief Curley. Tache was with another fireman, and Neskahi, who’d also pulled up while she’d been talking with Louise, was studying the ground for tracks and other evidence.

“Tell me more about her,” Ella encouraged, bringing her attention back to Louise.

“She and her husband have been married for nearly forty years, yet they were still very much in love. There was harmony in this house.”

“Children?”

She shook her head. “Don’t you remember she was shot during a robbery in Gallup just two years ago? That’s why she was in the wheelchair.”

Ella nodded. She recalled that the robber, an underage Navajo boy, had recently been released from jail. Hunt had fought hard to have the fifteen-year-old tried as an adult, but failed. That was enough by itself to explain why Councilman Hunt wanted handguns registered. “Did she help her husband promote his proposed legislation?”

“Yes, she was behind him all the way on that. She thought that handgun registration might at least reduce the chances of anyone else having to go through what she did, both during the robbery and afterward. They’ve also promoted an overhaul of the youth offenders program, making young people who commit violent crimes face trial as adults. But nobody has paid any attention to that, though it’s a popular issue here in the Southwest. Everyone seems to focus solely on gun registration.”

Ella nodded, but didn’t comment, her gaze resting on several firemen who were all working the same spot inside the ruined house.

After a few minutes of silence, Louise continued. “The councilman made a lot of enemies by taking a stand for gun registration.”

“Has the family received any threatening phone calls, letters, or things of that sort?”

“Not that I know of,” Louise said, then after a long pause, added, “Councilman Hunt’s only enemy, if you can call him that, is Councilman Tolino. Councilman Hunt got into several heated arguments over the phone with him, mostly on the youth crimes issue, I gather, though they have their differences on gun registration. Get two lawyers together . . .”

She couldn’t see Kevin in the role of arsonist, and to Ella’s own surprise, the fact that Louise had thought to mention him at all bothered her. Kevin was a politician through and through. He’d argue politically, but that would be it. However, this kind of talk could harm him. Uncertain why she cared at all, she shoved the thought out of her mind.

Maybe she was getting soft now that she was pushing forty and starting to feel a little older every morning. Kevin didn’t need her protection. She’d treat him like any other suspect and would follow up this lead. “Do you know what they were arguing about?”

“I think Councilman Tolino thought that my employer was pushing the gun bill too hard. The words ‘dead in the water’ were the ones Councilman Hunt mentioned to his wife. Apparently Tolino wanted him to change his strategy so he could at least get the violent youth offender program passed. But since I only overheard one side of the conversation, then pieces of the discussion between the Hunts, I obviously don’t know all the details.”

Ella made a mental note to ask Kevin about it. Her gaze drifting back to the scene, she saw the firemen had moved on and scattered. Obviously the search for Mrs. Hunt wasn’t over. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”

Louise followed Ella’s line of sight. “I guess they’re still looking,” she said and sighed. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to wait over by the fire truck until . . .”

“Go ahead.”

Ella studied the charred remains of the house. Arlene had probably had breakfast that morning and gone about her business in the normal way never realizing that, hours later, she’d be lying dead beneath a pile of rubble. Life was incredibly uncertain, but that knowledge was so hard to take most people avoided thinking about it at all.

She took a deep breath. It was time to get to work. Order had to be restored.

While the firemen continued searching for any sign of Mrs. Hunt, Ella’s team looked for evidence related to arson. Chief Curley had been right about the hot spot. Justine, Tache, and Neskahi worked to collect evidence, taking photos and collecting samples of charred wood that might contain traces of the accelerant. While they processed the scene, Ella walked around the perimeter of the ruined house trying to reconstruct the sequence the arsonist had followed as he committed the crime.

Ella turned around in a slow circle studying the area. As she did, she suddenly noticed a large, round-faced Navajo man wearing jeans and a cowboy hat walking toward the ruined house. He came to within fifteen feet, then stopped, his gaze on the smoldering rubble.

“Can I help you?” Ella asked, walking toward him.

He continued to stare at the house as if mesmerized. “I just needed to see this for myself,” he said, looking at her briefly, then back at the house.

The man was in his early thirties and wore his hair short, a common style almost everywhere. From what she could see, he didn’t appear to be wearing a medicine pouch. That, and his willingness to approach this site—a place where a death might have occurred—made her think that she was dealing with a modernist.

“Who are you?” she asked, pushing her jacket back so he could see her badge clearly.

“My name’s Hoskie Ben, Officer,” he said, finally looking at her closely.

“What brings you here?”

“This,” he said, gesturing toward the house. “I wrote copy about the fire for the radio news just an hour ago, but I just couldn’t believe it had really happened. I needed to see it for myself.”

Ella watched him, suspecting that there was a lot more he hadn’t said. “If you write copy for the news you’re probably used to hearing about all kinds of unpleasant subjects. Why does this particular event upset you? Do you know the owners?”

He looked at her, then at the ground. “This is different. I feel responsible for this fire.”

Ella’s antennas went up. “What do you mean?”

“We had an entire program devoted to the topic of gun control yesterday.” Hoskie swallowed, then in a taut voice added, “I did the research that provided most of the facts and statistics George Branch used when he went on a tirade against Councilman Hunt’s gun registration plan.” He paused, then continued. “I stuck to the hard facts, but I knew George would spice them up by adding all the redneck commentary meant to provoke. That’s what he does best.”

“There was a program that focused on Councilman Hunt?” Ella pressed.

“No, not on Hunt alone. The last show targeted all the current and possible proponents of gun control on the Rez. George said that The People had the right to know that the Tribal Council felt powerful enough to tamper with the Bill of Rights.” He looked at her. “You know how he spins things.”

Ella exhaled loudly. “Oh, yeah.” She was dying to ask Hoskie if he’d also provided background for the comments Branch had made about her last year when she’d become the
talk show’s target, but decided not to ask. This wasn’t the time or place.

“I’ve studied very hard to become a journalist,” Hoskie continued. “I’m working on a Master’s right now, but the only job I could get around here was working for Branch at the radio station. I do a great job with news and editorial copy, but George edits anything I give him and uses the information any way he wants. There’s nothing I can do about it except find another job. I took a leave of absence once to do just that, but I couldn’t find any other openings. I have a family to support, so eventually I went back.”

“Give me the highlights of yesterday’s program,” she asked.

“Branch implied that there was a faction within the tribal government conspiring against the
Dineh
. He told the listeners that the problem with some politicians was that they were insulated from the real world. They received the best police protection, lived in good neighborhoods, and never went anywhere they might actually have to use a gun to protect their family. Of course the listeners knew exactly who he was talking about.”

“Naturally.”

“I’ve never owned a gun, but until this came up, I’d always thought that guns had to be licensed.”

“No, not in New Mexico. Here it’s just automatic weapons, and that’s done federally. Other than that, a waiting period and a background check is pretty much all that’s required.”

Hoskie nodded. “I’d sure like to speak to the issue myself but I have no editorial clout or airtime. I would also like to bring up the Hunt plan to put violent youth offenders away for much longer sentences. My employer conveniently ignores that side of Hunt, though I’m sure he agrees with the concept.”

She heard the ambition in his tone and had the strong
feeling that he was the kind who’d never give up trying. “Maybe you’ll get your turn someday.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help you find whoever set this fire just let me know. I can try to write some discussion topic suggestions for George denouncing what happened here and asking people with any information to come forward. If I approach him in the right way, he may go for it.”