Coyote's Wife (36 page)

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Authors: Aimée Thurlo

BOOK: Coyote's Wife
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A moment later she moved downslope
again, then proceeded east as before. Suddenly she heard a vehicle start up, close by. Staying low, Ella moved up toward the road again and spotted a pickup heading west up the drainage ditch on the opposite side of the road. The driver had a pistol in his left hand and was firing in the direction of the squad cars.

Ella took aim. “Police! Stop!” she shouted.

The driver looked over at her in
surprise, then swung his pistol around and fired. The angle was wrong and his shot went wide to her left. Ella shot back twice, one high, one low, and the pickup suddenly lurched to its right, skidded sideways, and nearly rolled before coming to a stop.

There was a flurry of gunfire to the west, mostly coming from shotguns, and then the shooting stopped. Ella ran to
the pickup, coming up from
behind on the driver’s side, and using the vehicle as a screen to protect herself from the shooters down the road.

Justine was across the road now as well, beside the house, but she was aiming uphill, toward the mesa. Marianna was standing beside her unit, her weapon aimed toward the pickup.

“Cover me!” Ella yelled, coming up to the pickup door from the rear. As she inched closer, the pickup
door swung open. A hand fell out, a pistol along with it, followed by the driver’s bloody head as he toppled sideways.

“They’re running north,” Justine called out.

“Cover each other as you advance, but watch out for an ambush,” Ella yelled back. After taking a quick look at the crumpled body beside the pickup, she kicked the man’s pistol under the pickup, then jogged to the hogan. “It’s Ella.
Everyone okay?” she called out.

Clifford, Loretta, and, lastly, Julian came out. “That was awesome, Aunt,” Julian, Clifford’s fourteen-year-old son, said. “They were coming at us from everywhere! I wanted to shoot back at them, but Dad wouldn’t let me use a gun.”

Clifford gripped him firmly on the shoulder. “Take your mother inside the house. Move quickly and stay away from the doors and windows.”

Ella watched them. Loretta, still carrying their cordless phone, looked more frightened than Ella had ever seen her.

“What happened?” Ella asked her brother.

“They pulled up about fifteen minutes ago. I was in my medicine hogan when I heard the truck, and I went outside to invite the person in. I assumed it was a patient. Before I could do anything they jumped out and started shooting. My wife
had been outside with my son, shaking out some rugs. They were closer to the hogan than the house, so they ran to join me.” He paused. “Lucky I had that cordless
phone with me, along with my thirty-thirty. I’ve been keeping both nearby after hearing about the trouble that’s been going on around us. I was able to shoot back, so they never moved any closer. But I’ve got to tell you something. They
were either terrible marksmen or they were missing on purpose.”

Ella looked at him in surprise. “What makes you think that it was on purpose?”

“The shots came close, and I mean
close,
but never quite hit the mark. Bullets flew over our heads when we were running for cover, and impacted on the wood frame around the door several times. Some even hit the stove pipe sticking out of the roof. But
no shots passed through the blanket and into the hogan—not even one.”

Ella considered this new information, trying to make sense of it. Just then, Marianna appeared. “I think you better come look at this,” she said, not elaborating.

Ella followed her. As they reached the covered wood storage area, she saw a piece of paper affixed to a pine log with a cheap pocket knife.

Ella examined the discovery,
not touching anything. The knife could have easily come from any trading post or grocery store on the Rez, and the paper was loose-leaf with holes for a three-ring binder. The message was clear:

Ervin Benally is ours. Back off or
those you love will pay
.

Ella heard her brother coming up. She didn’t have to turn around to know his faint steps.

“That dead body can’t stay this close to where
my family lives. It has to be moved quickly,” he said.

“It will, don’t worry. We’ll be taking the pickup and its driver away from here shortly.”

“I’d also like my wife and son to leave the area now,” he said. “Do you have any objections? If you want to question them, they’ll be at my mother-in-law’s down by Gallup.”

Ella understood. To Clifford, the
chindi
was much more than simple lore, it
was an irrefutable fact. Although all things could be brought under control and a return to harmony established with the proper prayers, the
chindi
was an evil best avoided.

“Okay, but have them circle around to the north to reach the highway. The shooters came from the east down the south road, right?”

He nodded, then hurried to the house.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ella caught a glimpse
of Loretta as she came out to meet him. From her gestures, she knew that Loretta didn’t want to go without him.

Leaving Clifford to handle his own family matters, Ella walked back to the perp’s truck. The dead man was Navajo, in his early fifties. A bullet had pieced his skull behind his left ear. Ella saw the entry wound, but there was no exit wound.

Knowing the tribe’s ME, who’d already been
called to the scene, would handle all the medical details, Ella focused on the truck itself. After putting on two pairs of gloves, she checked the interior of the cab. There was no registration in the glove compartment, only a razor blade-type windshield scraper, two cigarettes in a pack, and a book of matches.

Justine came up a moment later. “They’re long gone,” she said. “There was another
vehicle, but all we saw was the tailgate of what looked to be a gray or pale blue pickup. No make or model.”

Marianna, who’d gone around to the rear of the truck, used her handheld to read off the deceased’s license plate to Dispatch. After a moment, she got an answer. “This pickup was reported stolen a few hours ago,” she told Ella.

“Let me check and see if the driver has some ID.” Ella reached
for the contents of the man’s hip pants pockets, and then his front pockets. There was some loose change and a pack of gum. “Nothing.”

As she stood up, Ella caught a glimpse of a bright-colored cloth in the storage space behind the backrest of the front seat. Reaching for it, she pulled out an almost incandescent yellow man’s blazer.

Ella gazed at it for a moment. It looked familiar somehow.
That’s when she remembered. Flashy yellow sport coats had been the trademark of the late Senator James Yellowhair.

TWENTY-THREE

When Clifford returned he stood well back, waiting. Ella went over to meet him. “I’ve got some disturbing news,” she said, and told him about the jacket.

Clifford moved forward to take a look, and his expression changed into one of pure disgust.

“I haven’t verified that the jacket is his yet, so I may be wrong, but I don’t think I am,” Ella added.

“Nor do I,” Clifford answered. “The late senator used to wear a yellow jacket like that to almost every rally and public function.”

“Lab tests can tell us if this was dug up from his grave,” Ella said. “But it looks too clean for that. I’m thinking that it came from another source, like maybe a clothing bank. This man must have recognized it and made the purchase.”

“Even if it wasn’t dug up,
it was one of the deceased’s favorite pieces of clothing, and that makes it dangerous to have around. Only an evil one would attempt something like this.”

“Do you know why those people are coming after you now?” Ella asked.

“They left the note for
you,
I believe,” he answered. “Maybe we were only a means to an end.”

“But why pick on a
hataalii
at all—someone who’s clearly in the best position
to defend against them? They usually go out of their way to avoid someone with your knowledge and power.”

“They might have seen us checking the cave,” he answered, then shrugged. “Maybe that note was partially meant for me, too—a reminder to mind my own business.”

Ella didn’t answer right away. Her brother hadn’t known about the photo Roxanne had taken, but to think of Roxanne as a skinwalker
was too much of a stretch. Yet, if Roxanne had followed them to the cave, it was possible others had, too. The area around Hogback was flat enough that anyone could keep watch at a long distance, just as Roxanne had. Unfortunately, it would have been pointless to ask her if she’d seen anyone else around. She’d never admit she’d been there.

“You’re in their sights now,” Ella told Clifford. “Don’t
lower your guard. Next time, they may shoot a lot straighter.”

Clifford nodded, then added, “Everyone here needs to take part in a purification ceremony before you leave. None of you will be safe otherwise.”

Ella turned and saw the crime scene van arrive, and right behind it, the M.E. They all had a lot of work to do, and this would slow things down.

“My team has the medicine bags you gave
us, and, unfortunately, we can’t afford to take time off for anything else right now,” Ella replied.

“The bags aren’t enough, not in this particular case,” he answered. “And your doctor friend doesn’t have any form of protection, I’m guessing. The ceremony won’t take long, but it’s necessary.”

“I’m interested. Count me in,” Marianna said from the other side of the truck.

“Me, too,” Justine
said, peering out from inside the cab.

Ella considered it for a moment. As police officers they were all modernists. Their need for a ceremony was more about continuity and reaffirmation. The ritual served to strengthen their beliefs that evil could be controlled—that what they did made a difference. She couldn’t deny them that.

“All right. We’ll do it after the scene’s processed.”

After the
body and the truck had been taken away, Clifford called all of them to the medicine hogan, even Carolyn Roanhorse.

Repeating the prayer that Clifford intoned, and following his directions, they cast arrowheads, bits of turquoise, and white shell into the air.

When the blessing was concluded, Ella could feel its power. Confidence and new determination to do what had to be done filled each of
them.

Carolyn left with the body first, and Ella and her team headed back to the station a short time later. On the way back, Ella used her cell phone to fill Blalock in on what they’d found.

“We’re running in circles, Clah, but Ervin Benally is at the center of this somehow. One question keeps coming back. How much of this is a StarTalk issue, and how much a personal attack on the man?”

Before
she could answer, Dispatch called them on the radio. “Shots have been fired at the Benally home. Mrs. Benally called to say that her husband took a shot at her and barely missed when she came to the door after picking up the mail.”

“Any more information? Anyone injured?” Ella asked.

“No, but Mrs. Benally asked that an officer to stop by as soon as possible.”

“We’ll handle it, Dispatch,” Ella
said. “Our ETA is less than five minutes.”

Ella had Justine change directions and head to the Benally home. “Step on it, partner. Somebody else might be prowling around the house.”

While in transit, Ella filled Blalock in. “We’ll handle this and catch up to you at the station.”

“Copy that,” Blalock answered.

Ella called Teeny next. “I’m going to need the footage from the cameras you set up
at the Benally residence.”

“No can do,” Teeny answered. “Ervin cancelled the job. Once he heard what my fees were, he told me to forget it, that he’d handle his own problems. His wife wanted to go ahead and put up the cameras, but Ervin threatened to take his rifle butt to my equipment if I didn’t pack it back up again.” He paused then added, “Ella, the man’s nuts and the booze I smelled on him
didn’t help matters. Watch your back around him.”

“Okay, thanks for the warning.”

They arrived a short time later and Barbara met them outside. “Ervin apologized for almost killing me with that idiot rifle of his,” she said pointing toward the mailbox, which had entrance and exit holes running right through it. “Now he’s in his study with the curtains drawn. He insists he’s their target, not
me, and that he has to protect himself.”

“Has he been drinking again?” Justine asked, sighting along the trajectory to see where the round had gone. Fortunately there were no houses across the street, just a low hill. The bullet probably hadn’t gone far.

Barbara nodded. “I hid the bottles, but he found them while I was out a while ago.”

“Let me speak to Ervin. Maybe I can help,” Ella said,
then turned to Justine. “Officer Goodluck, take a look around outside, but stay out of the field of fire from that window.”

Justine nodded, then walked away.

Barbara waved her hand, inviting Ella into the house. “Don’t get too close to the office door without telling him who you are first.”

Ella announced her presence once she’d entered the hall. “Open up, Ervin, this is Ella Clah. I’d like
to talk to you.”

“You alone?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered. “You’re safe, so relax. Another officer is outside, double-checking the grounds.” She heard the door unlock, then it opened a crack.

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