Bad Medicine (6 page)

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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

BOOK: Bad Medicine
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“You people are all the same,” Truman spat out.

“Watch your mouth,” Blalock growled.

“It’s okay,” Ella said quickly, then turned her attention back to Truman. “What people are you referring to? Cops? Navajos? Nonracists?”

“That’s enough,” the attorney said quickly.

“No, let me answer her,” Truman said. “This isn’t about any crime. This is about Indian cops hassling a white man just because
he’s white.”

“Where in left field did that come from?” Ella narrowed her eyes and tried to keep her temper in check. There was something more going on here. Maybe that white supremacist junk had scrambled his brain.

“You run things on the reservation like it’s your own private country. Why can’t you act like real Americans for a change?”

Ella tried to make some sense of the man’s ramblings.
He wasn’t drunk anymore. But she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Do you know Stanley Bitah?” Ella continued.

“Yeah, he worked at the mine. Pain in the butt troublemaker—like you.” Truman sneered.

“Just how much did you dislike Bitah? And where were you this morning just before sunrise?” Ella watched Truman’s eyes carefully.

Just for an instant Truman glanced at his lawyer, then stared
defiantly at Ella. “I was at home, in bed with my wife, if that’s any of your business.”

“It is, if you chose to settle your racist problems with violence. If you’ve laid a hand on anyone else like you tried with me today, plan on me finding out and sending you straight to jail.”

“Then my brothers would even the score, count on it.”

“Brothers? You have relatives in Farmington?”

“My spiritual
brothers. The Brotherhood is strong, and—”

“That’s it.” The attorney stood up abruptly. “That’s the end of this interview. If there are no further questions, then I suggest we all adjourn and get some work done.”

Truman glanced over to his lawyer, then shrugged.

Ella studied Truman’s expression. He’d enjoyed baiting her, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that gave
her the creeps. The man knew something, and it was enough to make him feel superior. The possibilities made her uneasy.

As they stepped out into the hall and the attorney closed the door behind them, Blalock turned to Ella and smiled. “Well, that went really well.”

“Stuff it. You wouldn’t have fared any better.”

“I certainly couldn’t have done any worse.”

She chose not to rise to the barb.
“Did you get that about The Brotherhood?”

“Yes, but I have no idea what the hell he was talking about. Never heard of anything like that around here before.”

“When a guy like this, a well-armed white supremacist, starts talking about his ‘brothers,’ I’ve got to tell you, we need to start paying close attention.”

“What we need is to talk to someone who knows what’s going on around that mine,
someone who’ll trust us,” Blalock said. “Do you have any friends among the miners?”

“I know some of the guys, but not well. I do have one friend, however, who may be able to help.”

“Who?”

“Wilson Joe.”

“He’s not a miner, he’s a teacher.”

“But if he’s teaching the Anglos out there the Navajo language, he’s talking to them. He’s also working for the tribe,
and
in contact with power plant and
mining management.”

“Good thought, and I have to admit, the guy has got what it takes, too. He handled himself pretty well the other times our paths have crossed. While you’re talking to Wilson, I’ll keep trying to track down Frank Smith. He wasn’t at home when I stopped by and the neighbors haven’t seen him in a few days. I’ll stay on it, though, and let you know if I learn anything from him
or the other Anglo employees on my list.”

Ella checked her watch as she drove back. It was too late to go anywhere except home now. She’d have dinner, and then maybe give Wilson a call.

Picking up her radio, she contacted Justine. “Channel six,” Ella said, instructing her assistant to switch frequencies.

“You want a report, but I haven’t got one,” Justine said. “I just called the M.E. and she
wasn’t too thrilled with me for trying to hurry her along. She said if I kept calling to check, it would take longer—whether it did or not.”

Ella laughed. “Don’t bug her. It’ll just make Carolyn dig in her heels. I’ve got something else I want you to do. Go over to the coal mine office. It’s open twenty-four hours a day. Get a full employee list, current and former, for the past five years. If
you see any name you recognize, any of our tribe you feel you know well, pay him a visit. I need some background on what’s going on over there. We’ll go through the official channels next, but in this case, an unofficial visit to a friend is probably going to get us further.”

“I’ll get on it. You taking a sixty-one?”

“Yeah, I’m going to have dinner at home. You can reach me there.”

As she drove
up the dirt track to her mother’s house, she saw her brother Clifford’s old truck parked there. Loretta, her sister-in-law was hovering near the living room window, watching her one-year-old, who was standing on the sofa, looking out.

Loretta waved as she approached. The young Navajo woman had managed to get her girlish figure back in record time. Ella studied her face and saw the contentment
that shone there. Loretta was suited for motherhood. She practically glowed with happiness.

“Hi there!” Ella greeted, as she entered the house. She bent over and scooped the baby up from the sofa. “And how are
you
doing, short-stuff?” The baby squealed and laughed as she tickled him.

“Be careful now, Ella,” Loretta cautioned. “If he gets too excited, he’ll have an upset stomach when he eats
dinner.”

“Oh, come on. He’ll be fine.” There was an ongoing argument between Clifford and his wife concerning Loretta’s over-protectiveness. Since the trouble with the skinwalkers right before Julian was born, and their attempts against the child at the hospital, Loretta refused to let the baby out of her sight for even a few minutes.

“I’m really glad you came by. Your mother was just complaining
that she never has the family over here for dinner anymore. She says you’re always working.”

“Not always, but my job’s never been eight to five,” Ella agreed, leading the way into the den.

Clifford glanced up from his newspaper and smiled at his sister. “I’m glad to see you. You’re going to stick around for a while?”

“That depends. I’m on a case, so if I get a call I’ll have to go, but I’m
glad you’re here. I’d like to talk to you,” Ella said, noting that Loretta had taken Julian on through to the kitchen.

Ella motioned Clifford into their father’s former study. Nowadays the room had been converted into Ella’s office. Her mother had hoped she’d do more of her work from home after that, but it hadn’t worked out that way. As she’d tried to explain to her mother, field work couldn’t
be done from an office, and most paperwork had to remain at the station. Subsequently, she’d tried to get her mom to turn it into her knitting and weaving room, but there were still too many memories confined between these walls for her.

“What’s going on?” Clifford asked the moment she closed the door.

“Have you … have you noticed anything unusual, you know, out of the ordinary, lately?”

“How
so?” Clifford’s eyes narrowed, and from the tightening there she knew her brother had guessed what was on her mind.

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling,” Ella said.

“Skinwalkers?”

She took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, and blew the air out slowly. “It’s difficult to say
yes
or
no
to that. I don’t sense anything specific. Well, no, that’s not true. I sense … trouble. Something’s brewing
on the Rez, brother. And it’s going to come to the surface soon. We may have a problem containing it.”

“You’re talking in the context of a police investigation, yet what worries you goes well beyond that.”

She was always amazed at her brother’s talents. He could read people better than anyone else she’d ever known. He had other gifts, too, some associated with his training as a
hataalii.
But
some gifts he had surpassed his training, and those had always made her uneasy. Hers was an orderly mind, and anything she couldn’t classify and explain disturbed her equanimity. She would have liked to explain away some of her brother’s special abilities as trickery and illusion, much like a magician’s. But, deep down, she knew it was far more involved than that.

“A police officer’s instincts
aren’t always precise,” she replied at length.

“But your intuitions are more than that, and you know it,” he said, then raised his hand to stem her protests. “The problem with you is that you’re too proud for your own good. You don’t want to think that your intuitions are part of a gift, a special magic that you alone possess. You’d much rather think that it’s simply an intellectual process going
on in your subconscious because you’re smart, and highly trained in law enforcement.”

Ella forced herself not to cringe. There was truth in what he said, and that was why it stung so much. “I
am
smart, and I’m proud of my skills. I worked my hind end off to get them.”

“But you should still acknowledge that you have an extra source of help within yourself that’s made you successful.”

“Yeah,
well…” she shrugged.

“Pride,” he said, shaking his head.

“Will you answer my question? It’s important. I need your opinion.” Ella watched her older brother as he sat down and regarded her thoughtfully.

“I can tell you that there’s a restlessness among the people. I can feel that as well as you do, but I’m also not sure what’s behind it. Conversations stop when I draw near, as if there’s something
happening The People want to keep from me. I haven’t experienced anything like that since the time when our father was killed.”

Ella nodded. “I had a very uncomfortable feeling out on the highway today when I was out investigating an accident. I felt I was being watched, but there was no one around. At least no one that I could see.”

Clifford nodded. “Disturbing. I’ll see what I can learn.”
He stood up slowly. “But now it’s time for family, not business. Let’s go, little sister.”

As they joined the others, Ella couldn’t shake the uneasiness that plagued her. She went through the motions, eating tasty mutton stew and fry bread with her family, trying not to take sides when Clifford and Loretta argued about the baby, but her mind was on the case. When the phone rang, her mother glanced
at her.

“No doubt it’s for you. It’s just as well. You’ve been here physically, but your mind hasn’t been with us all evening.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be so distant.” She walked into the living room and picked up the receiver. It was Justine.

“I just got a call from Billy Pete,” her assistant said. “He told me that it’s important he talk to you tonight.”

“Where does he want to meet?”

“At the Totah Café.”

She relaxed. At least that wasn’t a likely place for an ambush. Not that she didn’t trust Billy Pete, but people under stress did weird things. “Okay. What time?”

“Eight. Something else. Dr. Roanhorse released the body. She said she had all the tissue samples she needed. Rather than fight the senator, who showed up at the hospital with some honchos from the tribal council,
she signed the papers.”

“Did she give you a preliminary autopsy report yet?”

“No. She said she’d speak to you directly about that. She didn’t want to bother you at home, so she asked me to tell you to call her anytime after nine tonight. She’ll be in meetings at the hospital until then.”

“All right. I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, I’m going to go to the café. I’ll talk to you later.”

Ella reached back and checked her pistol, then put on her windbreaker. She was almost ready to go when Rose came into the room.

“You’re leaving? You just got here.”

“I won’t be gone long.”

“Don’t you want any dessert?”

“I’ll have some when I come back, okay?”

“When are you going to start taking some time for yourself? You haven’t had your friends over in a long time. I can accept that you
don’t want to marry Wilson, though I just don’t understand why. But how are you going to meet anyone if all you do is work and play with your computer?”

“I love Wilson, he’s been a great friend. But I’m not in love with him; that’s why we could never marry. And I’m not looking to meet anyone either,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Not everyone’s life’s path is the same.”

“You
will
want to marry again someday, daughter. I just hope it won’t be too late by then for you to give me grandchildren.”

Ella walked out the door, knowing from experience that this conversation was going nowhere. They’d had it a million times before. She’d fallen in love and been married once, and had found her identity as a wife, but she’d been young then, and more uncertain of who she was. But her
husband had died. Since that time, she’d matured and found her own sense of purpose. She’d never again be able to adapt so easily to the needs and demands of married life, even if she did happen to fall in love again. Her priorities were different now, just as she was different from the girl she’d been then.

It had been an extremely long day, and Ella’s thoughts drifted as she drove down the
almost deserted highway. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, and the syrupy darkness of the unlit highway was by now so familiar to her it seemed routine. At night this stretch of highway was illuminated only by headlights, and the moon when a driver was lucky. But she knew every pothole and every curve by heart.

She listened to the silence around her. Even the two-way radio was still. Police
work could be lonely at times, but she couldn’t envision herself doing anything else.

Ella thought of Wilson Joe. Despite her mother’s wishes, there could never have been a future between them. Although his devotion to teaching was as great as hers to police work, she didn’t think he’d ever be able to put up with the long hours, and the pressure, and the nightmares that were all part of her work.
Eventually, her career would have driven a wedge between them.

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