Coyote's Wife (11 page)

Patrick Tsosie’s small crumbling gray stucco house was south of Shiprock, off the main highway, and up a dirt road that led into some low hills. Even this close to the river, the land was arid and sparsely vegetated except for some yellow galleta grass and a few hardy clusters of winter fat.

As they drove up, Ella saw an ancient American-made sedan with faded
purple paint. It was parked in the inadequate shade of an equally ancient peach tree, its branches virtually naked of leaves this late in the year. Justine pulled up and Ella saw the empty sheep corral and a hogan out in the back.

Ella studied the hogan first. It looked abandoned—as if someone had lived there decades ago, then moved to the more spacious wood-frame house blessed with electricity.
Perhaps the hogan now only served as a place to hold special ceremonies from time to time. That was fairly common these days. But since the family could be traditionalist, it was necessary to follow certain courtesies.

“Let’s give him a chance to invite us in,” Ella said. “But if he doesn’t, we’ll go up.”

“Here comes someone,” Justine said, gesturing with her lips.

Ella got out of the cruiser
and saw a man who fit Patrick’s description motioning her. “He’s either waving or wavering, partner. Heads up.”

“Yeah, noticed that,” Justine said. “I hate dealing with drunks.”

As they approached, Patrick took an unsteady step toward them, then fell back. Bracing himself against the wall of the house, he recaptured his balance. “Whoops. The air’s kinda thick out here. Whadda ya want?”

“We
need to ask you a few questions,” Ella said.

“’Bout what?” he asked, slurring his words.

Ella jammed her hands into her pockets. Like Justine, she hated questioning drunks. If he pushed her in the slightest, he’d find himself sobering up inside a jail cell. “Let’s start with the job you used to have at StarTalk.”

There was a flash of something in his eyes, but before she could give it any thought,
he sat down on the unpainted wood plank porch and stared up at them. “Don’t have much to say ’bout that place.”

“Where were you yesterday, particularly at around ten-thirty a.m.?”

He looked down at his wrist, but there wasn’t any watch there. His eyebrows knitted together and he stared at his feet a long time before answering. “Can’t remember, lost my watch. But yesterday morning? I’m almost
sure I was here.”

“Do you know George Charley?” Ella pressed. Normally she wouldn’t have used the deceased’s name, but sometimes in police work it was necessary.

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Whad’s the matter wid you?” he said, trying to pronounce his words, but failing miserably. “Dontcha know he’s dead?” he added in a whisper. “You’ll call his
chindi,
woman.”

“You’re going to have a lot more
than that to worry about if you don’t stop wasting our time,” Justine said, leaning down and getting in his face.

He moved his head back to avoid her, then had to stick out his arms to keep from falling over.

“How did you find out about George’s death?” Ella pressed.

“I heard about it when I went to StarTalk late yesterday. Lucy Yabeny likes me and I thought she might be willing to help get
the rest of the money they owe me. And, if not, I figured she might have a few bucks to spare, you know?”

“And she told you about him?” Ella pressed.

“Yeah. She said that everyone was really upset that he got himself all sawed in half, and that if I’d stop drinking, I might be able to get my job back. But then
she
came in.”

“She, who?” Justine asked.

“Mrs. Yellowhair. Abby Crabby. That woman
has too good a memory. I’d been drinking a little last time we ran into each other, and I think I made some comment about her…girlish figure.”

“So she didn’t want you back?” Justine said.

“She threatened to have me arrested on the spot for trespassing, so I hightailed it out of there. Haven’t been back since. If I’d run into her daughter, Barbara, the human one, it would have been different.”

Ella noticed how Patrick’s speech had suddenly cleared. She wondered if maybe he played drunk when it suited him. A way to avoid responsibility… She focused on him. “What makes you think Barbara would have treated you any differently than her mother?”

“Barbara sits back, letting her husband take front stage, but she’s the
real
power there. Everyone knows that. Ervin likes to show off, giving
presentations and that kind of
thing. But Barbara
works
for a living. If it wasn’t for her, he’d be selling used cars in Farmington.”

Ella leaned against the column on the porch, and regarded him thoughtfully. “Where does Mrs. Yellowhair fit in then?”

“She’s got the cash,” he answered without missing a beat. “That’s what she uses to control the Benallys. Abby can’t boss Ervin around, so she
pressures her daughter. But it doesn’t get her far, I don’t think.”

“How come?” Ella asked.

“Barbara lets Ervin do whatever he wants. Never argues, even when he bullies her around in front of everyone. She just takes it from him. I don’t know why.”

Ella held his gaze. “One last question. Why did you pretend to be drunk when we first pulled up?”

Patrick smiled at her. “It makes my life easier
when people don’t expect too much. Mind you, I drink more than I should. But not now. Don’t have the bucks. I need a job.”

Justine and Ella were on their way moments later. Justine glanced over at her. “What next?”

“We’ll go back to the station. You can check out the Dodge in impound, then call it a day. I’m going to finish some paperwork and try to get home before Dawn’s bedtime. I need to
have a long talk with my kid. Roxanne Dixon worries me. From everything I’ve learned, that woman goes after whatever she wants without considering the consequences,” Ella said. “I need to make sure my kid doesn’t get caught up in one of her games.”

“I hear you, but by notifying the school authorities, you’ve hopefully already taken care of that.”

“Yeah, but I still worry. It goes with the territory.
Wait till you become a mom someday. You’ll understand then.”

By the time they parked at the station, Ella noticed that they were both yawning.

“I think we should change our plans. There’s nothing like the cold nighttime desert air to give us an energy boost. Why don’t I help you check out the Dodge and take a look at George Charley’s pickup? His wife will be needing the vehicle and nobody’s
had a chance to give it a once-over since it was transported from the StarTalk yard. After that we can both go home.”

“Good idea. We’ll need keys to get into impound, but the watch commander will have a set. I don’t think the attendant will still be around this time of night and the shop is closed.”

“Okay. I’ll go on ahead just in case somebody is still back there, and you swing by the front
desk.”

Ella went to the left of the station’s main building, and passed through the open gate that provided access to the rest of the yard. The impound area was past the shop, toward the rear of the property.

As Ella approached impound’s six-foot-high fence, she heard a faint metallic rattling sound coming from the far end. She stopped and listened, waiting. When it sounded again, she realized
instantly what it was. Someone was pushing against the fence—or trying to climb over it.

Knowing that a thief’s entry into impound could compromise a case, Ella inched down the fence line, trying to see what was going on without being spotted. They’d had thieves sneak in before they’d put in the second layer of fencing and additional outside lights.

Ella worked her way down the fence, trying
to see if anyone was on the impound fence or maybe on the other fence that bordered the station. That one was ten feet high and topped with a strand of barbed wire. Just about the time she started to radio for backup, she heard the creak of metal and saw someone scramble on top of one of the cars inside the fenced perimeter.

“Don’t move!” she ordered, but before she’d even uttered the last syllable,
the person was in the air, going over the fence.

He landed right on top of her shoulders, slamming her to the ground. Ella tried to roll away, but he was wiry and as strong as a wrestler. He pinned her to the ground, pressing his forearm to her throat.

He was wearing a ski mask and a flannel shirt that smelled like an auto shop—and he was also choking her. Ella kicked up with her knees, slamming
him in the gut. He managed to stay on her and pushed down harder with his forearm. She tried to bite him then, but all she got was a mouthful of cloth.

Swinging her arms around, she hit him with both hands on the ears, then kicked up with both legs, twisting at the same time.

He grunted and fell off her.

Ella scrambled to her knees, reaching down for her handgun with her right arm. Seeing a
blur to her left, she brought her arm up to block him, but she was a split second too late.

Something hard struck her on the head and bright lights flashed before her eyes. Everything started to whirl around like a carnival ride, and she fell back to the ground.

Moments later another bright light shined in her eyes. “Ella, are you okay? What happened?”

Ella blinked and turned away. “You wanna
get that light out of my eyes, partner?”

“Sorry,” Justine responded, moving her pocket flashlight away. “What happened, did you fall or something?”

“I got jumped, then clocked by something harder than a fist.” She sat up, looking around quickly. The motion hurt her head and she held her hand up to feel the bump on her skull.

“Where’d he go? You see anyone running off?” Ella rose to her feet
slowly, wobbling a bit.

Justine grabbed her arm. “Steady, boss. Maybe you shouldn’t be getting up so fast. What guy are you talking about?”

“There was a man out here, at least he was as strong as a man. I heard what sounded like someone climbing the fence, then looked up and saw him standing on top of that car.” She turned and pointed at the vehicle just across the impound fence.

“And he jumped
right down on you?”

“Yeah. Let’s check the fence line and try to see where he went. Nobody ran past you and out the main gate, did they?”

“No, I’d have seen them. You stay here and get your balance. I’ll do it.”

“First, let’s get some more light.” Ella grabbed her cell phone and called the front desk. Fifteen seconds later, the lights were turned up, illuminating the impound yard so well they
could see the entire perimeter fence.

“There,” Justine pointed.

Fifty feet away Ella could see that a section had been cut from the main fence, big enough for someone to crawl through. “Now we know how he got in and out of the yard.” She did a slow three-sixty, and saw a metal can against the side of the impound fence, just five feet away.

“That must be what he clocked me with—that can of…
whatever.”

Justine walked over and aimed her flashlight down. “It’s brake fluid. What was he doing—sneaking into a police area and clobbering an officer just to steal a can of brake fluid? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, and the brake fluid would have been kept in the shop anyway, not the impound yard. That’s evidence, partner.
Maybe we can lift some prints,” Ella said. “We’ll also need to
extend our search. We’ll want to check out the vehicles in impound and see why he broke in tonight. Looks like we’re not going home early after all.”

“Why don’t you go inside and get an ice pack on that bump, and I’ll get started working the scene? If you decide you want to power down some aspirins and go home, I can handle things here. I’ll have plenty of help if I need it. We’ll have several
officers out here soon enough. Somebody’s going to have to wire up that hole in the fence.”

Ella reached up and touched the tender spot on her head. The swelling hadn’t got any worse. “Sounds like a plan. See you in the morning.”

One of the officers inside had EMT training, and he checked out her vital signs, advising her to wait a while and use an ice pack. There was no blood, only bruising,
so after about a half hour, her headache better thanks to the aspirins, Ella left the station.

All throughout the drive home, Ella’s thoughts remained on the investigations of the past two days. As far as the case surrounding Ervin went, she’d yet to figure out what was behind the incidents. The money trail, usually the best way to establish motive, was murky at best. She seriously doubted that
any of the other phone companies in the state were behind the harassment. There was a lot more money to be made off the reservation from cell and conventional phone customers. There had to be something else at stake here.

Then there was tonight’s incident. Had that been just an attempt by someone to rob a vehicle, or maybe even drive it away? Or was it just another act of vandalism like the one
at the chapter house or at StarTalk, but this time in the department’s own backyard? Of course that didn’t explain the presence of a can of brake fluid.

Maybe by the time Justine finished working the scene they’d have at least some of the much needed answers.

A short while later Ella pulled into the driveway of their family home southwest of Shiprock. It was past seven and the outside lights
were on. She could see Dawn over in the corral brushing Wind. Boots’ car wasn’t around, but it was past supper and Dawn didn’t need a sitter when both Rose and Herman were home.

Seeing Ella, Dawn came rushing up and gave her mom a hug. “Mom, I’m so glad you’re
finally
home!”

“I appreciate the welcome but what’s going on?” Ella had a feeling that a brand-new headache was on its way.

Dawn sighed
loudly. “It’s
Shimasání.
She just doesn’t understand. It’s not that she’s angry, but—”

“Whoa, start at the beginning,” Ella said, walking inside the house with Dawn. Hearing them come in, Rose came out of the kitchen—the only room common to the two wings of the house.

“Hey, Mom,” Ella greeted, grateful that her recent bump on the head hadn’t left a visible sign.

“I left some supper for you
in the oven, daughter. It should still be warm. My husband and I will be home tonight if you need us.”