Enemy Way (21 page)

Mrs. Begay sat down near the window, and gestured for them to find places to sit.

Ella removed some dirty clothing from a chair, and sat down. Justine remained standing.

“We’re here to talk to you about John,” she said, delivering the news that Mrs. Begay’s son had been stabbed, and was on
his way to the hospital.

The woman showed no emotion. “I’ve tried my best with my son, but he won’t listen to me anymore. He does what he pleases. I just hope he doesn’t die this time. Last year he got cut up with a beer bottle in a fight over at the fair in Window Rock.”

“He’s only sixteen,” Justine said. “He’s ruining his life.”

Mrs. Begay opened her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “There’s
nothing I can do. I went to talk to George Nahlee’s mother to see, if maybe together, we could do something to get our boys out of that gang. But she won’t even admit that her son is mixed up with the Many Devils. I explained why it is they dress that way, and why they cut those gang signs into their hands. I even showed her what they write in their books, practicing their own gang alphabet
and names. She knew what I was talking about. She kept saying that her son was only copying what some others were doing, going through a stage. Some mothers are like that. The truth stares them in the face, but they remain blind.” She took a deep breath. “In some ways, maybe that’s easier. Hurts less, I think.”

Ella felt the woman’s despair, and wished there were answers she could offer.

“They
don’t belong to anything except the gang. A lot of the kids have pride in their school, but not my son and his friends. They don’t even go out for sports or try to learn anything, even though the only way to escape our poverty is by getting a good education. The ones who work in class and do homework are laughed at and called schoolboys. Joining the gang makes kids like my son feel good because
everybody else is afraid of them. I can tell you that being in the gang becomes more important to the kids than even their own families. I know all about it, because I’ve already lost my son, just the same as if he was already dead.”

Ella felt her stomach tie itself into a knot. She understood what the woman was talking about. Purpose. The kids had found it through the gang and they stuck with
that group that defined them, even though it would eventually destroy them. So much tragedy, so few answers.…

“Has anyone come by, warning you to keep John out of trouble?” Ella asked, trying to keep her thoughts focused.

Mrs. Begay’s eyes narrowed, like a door closing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s time for you to leave now.”

Ella stood up and offered to take Mrs. Begay to
the hospital. The offer was quickly refused. Ella and Justine left, knowing they had received their answer. The Fierce Ones had been here, too. If Ella knew anything about that group, however, it was that they wouldn’t continue to accept excuses and failure. They’d take more decisive action soon, and it looked like Mrs. Begay was already expecting things to get worse.

“How can she stand to live
like that? All that trash. It stunk,” Justine said, interrupting her thoughts.

“She’s given up. It’s too much for her.” Ella thought of how close her mother had come to sharing that despair when she’d realized she couldn’t use her legs.

“Judging from her style of dress,” Ella continued, Mrs. Begay is a traditionalist, but she’s come up against the worst of the modern world in her son. Her spirit
has died. She’s lost hope and, without that, the struggle she faces becomes one insurmountable obstacle after another. Hope is what gives you the courage to reach out and continue trying. Without it, there’s nothing.”

Ella dropped Justine off at the station and drove over to the hospital for a long visit with her own mother. They also had to talk about physical therapy. The paperwork could wait.

*   *   *

The following morning, Ella met Justine at the office and, together, they headed out to the high school.

“I better warn you that Mr. Duran, the principal, wasn’t exactly overjoyed to hear that we wanted to talk to him,” Justine said. “He knew it was coming, though. I think he wants to downplay the whole incident as quickly as possible, and our presence there won’t allow him to do that.”

“You can’t downplay three kids in the hospital, all in serious condition,” Ella said, shaking her head. “A half-dozen or so more we haven’t seen yet are probably bruised and cut up, too. Things weren’t that much different here than anywhere else, with people passing the buck and assigning blame. Many don’t want to see a reality that seems out of their control.”

“Neskahi and the other officers
are still trying to identify and locate the other gang kids who were involved, checking out their hangouts and their homes. I’m glad my cousin Thomas wasn’t there. I heard from my mom that his mother paid him to move some furniture. He was angry when he heard he’d missed the fight.” Justine shrugged. “It’s a small victory, I guess.”

“We need to keep a close eye on anyone who could be involved,
and try to be there to stop problems before they happen.” Ella said. “This gang rivalry is spiraling into a storm, and unless we stop it, there will be a lot more casualties. Soon the kids will be carrying guns, if they aren’t already.”

As they drove past the site where her mother’s accident had taken place, Ella felt a shudder travel through her. She felt guilty already about not going by the
hospital this morning, she knew she might be too busy to get there later, but the principal had insisted this was the only time he could meet with them.

Ella stared at the road ahead, trying to envision her mother’s panic at seeing another driver coming at her head-on. She couldn’t do it. The incident had struck too close, and the love that bonded her to her mother made the pain of nearly losing
her too fierce, blocking her attempts to consider the case objectively. As Ella’s gaze fell on the shoulder of the road, she remembered the cane marks she’d seen there. The more she considered the implications of their presence, the more uneasy she grew.

“You’re thinking of your mother’s accident, aren’t you?” Justine said softly.

“There’s something here that doesn’t quite add up. The drunk
was a real enough piece of evidence, but the cane marks…”

“Do you think Navajo witches played a part?”

“I want you to search carefully into Leo Bekis’ background, but be subtle so they won’t be able to label it harassment. See if you can find anything that connects him to the evil ones, directly or indirectly.” Ella said.

“The tribe has a full background report on him. One is always done when
a person applies for a position with the tribe, especially one which puts them into a courtroom. I also know his neighbors. They’re friends of my older brother. If there had been even a hint that Bekis had skinwalker connections, it would have come out by now.

“The press has been hot on the story, too,” Justine continued. “They found out that Bekis started working for the tribe when your father-in-law
was still chief. I’ve been keeping tabs on their articles, and I noticed that they mentioned that fact once in passing but, since then, they haven’t mentioned it again. My guess is that they searched like crazy, but they couldn’t find anything to connect the two men.”

“Look into it anyway,” Ella repeated stubbornly.

“If you think skinwalkers engineered your mother’s accident, shouldn’t we have
someone keeping an eye on her?”

Ella shook her head. “I really don’t think it’s necessary. Mom will be safe at the hospital. There are people constantly around her. And she’s been trying out those crutches. If Mom suspected someone was after her, she’d leave that room and go for help. She sees things like that coming, remember?”

Despite her confident words, Ella decided to ask Carolyn to watch
over Rose and remain vigilant for signs of trouble. If the accident had been instigated by skinwalkers, Ella could expect them to live up to their reputations as masters of camouflage.

Ella parked in the visitors parking area on the north side of the high school, the same parking lot where the gang violence had taken place yesterday, then walked through the big double doors. Classes were in session,
and the halls were empty.

The moment they stepped through the office doors, Principal Andy Duran came out his office to meet them. A secretary looked up curiously, then returned her attention to her computer terminal. “Come in,” Duran said, gesturing by cocking his head. A slender, athletic man in his early sixties, Duran had taken over the principal’s job after teaching shop in Shiprock for
many years. Ella knew who he was, but she’d never been in any of his classes back when she went to Shiprock High.

As they sat down, Principal Duran closed his door, glanced through his window at the parking lot, then took a seat behind the massive oak desk. He then reached for a sheet of paper resting facedown on the top of his in/out file and handed it to Ella. “I took a chance and compiled
this for you. I figured you’d want names and addresses of the kids we know or suspect are in the gangs. You’ll find them there, and their gang affiliation. I had help from my staff on this, but don’t ask who. I would prefer, for legal and other reasons, that you never disclose that this list ever existed. The only reason I’m giving you this is because I’m more worried about the safety of the kids
than getting sued.”

Ella nodded in agreement as she looked over the list. She was grateful that he had the guts to stand up to the legal threats that seemed to be hamstringing so many public schools in New Mexico. But it was also clear that he wanted them out of there as quickly as possible. “I know you keep a tight rein on student behavior, but what’s the atmosphere like here at school today?
What are the kids saying about what happened?”

Duran shook his head and shrugged. “The responses are as varied as the students. Some are scared that this happened here, but most of them are taking it in stride, and I think that worries me more than anything else. It’s that acceptance of the violence that stuns me and a lot of the staff. I remember what it was like years ago when you went to school
here, Ella. We had our problems then, but never anything like this.”

Duran stood and began to pace. “I’ve also heard that a few kids wanted to quit the Many Devils or the North Siders, but found out the hard way you can’t do that. The other kids in the gangs turned on them. George Nahlee came in yesterday morning with a thousand bruises. I asked him what happened, but you know how far that got
me. He’s not at school today.”

Ella and Justine exchanged glances. “Have you called his parents?” Ella asked.

“Parent. He lives with his mother,” Duran said with a nod. “Off the record, she wasn’t much help. She’s heavy into denial. Her kid can do no wrong. George told her that he fell down the bleachers on the football field, and she refused to believe anything else.” He started for the door.
“Forgive me for rushing you, but your presence here is likely to escalate the trouble we’re trying to control. I’d prefer if you were off campus before the classes change.”

“The moment kids were assaulted with knives and baseball bats, you lost the right to handle this matter on your own and make those kind of requests. Police involvement is mandatory, and that asphalt out there is a crime scene.
Let’s just hope it doesn’t get worse before it gets better,” Ella said, and then she left with her assistant.

As they returned to the Jeep, Justine gave Ella a wary smile. “I think what you said at the end really hit home with Principal Duran.”

“Good. That’s what I meant to do. He and a lot of other people are living in a dream world if they think they can handle this like they would a couple
of kids who got into a fist fight in the locker room. It’s gone too far for that.”

“Do you want to stop by Mrs. Nahlee’s?”

Ella shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t think it’ll do much good. Let Neskahi work the street first. He’s a good cop. Let’s see what he digs up.”

As they got into the Jeep, the radio crackled and Ella’s call sign came over the air.

“Please respond to a ten–twenty-seven–one
by the petroglyphs south of the Hogback Trading Post.”

The three-part code alerted her before it even reached the last digit. A homicide. Ella felt her body tense. “Who found the body, and has an ID been made on the victim?”

“Officer Michael Cloud responded to a call from Mrs. Archuleta, the wife of the trader. She’d been out there picking herbs for the trading post. No ID on the victim yet.”

“Ten-four.”

Ella replaced the mike. “I just hope it isn’t one of the kids involved in that fight yesterday.”

Justine switched on the sirens as Ella pressed down on the accelerator. When they passed the trading post, one of several in that area of the Rez, Ella slowed down. Going off road here required a sharp eye for obstacles that could disable their vehicle. The ground was strewn with boulders
and sharp rocks that could rip out an oil pan.

“Up ahead, to the left,” Justine pointed out the Navajo Police vehicle.

As Ella parked, they saw Officer Michael Cloud. He was standing with his back to the petroglyphs, facing away from the crime scene, and it looked like he’d just lost his breakfast. “I don’t like this,” Ella observed. “Something’s really wrong. It’s not like Michael to be squeamish.”

Cloud came to meet them as they stepped out of the Jeep. “It’s pretty damned bad,” he said, shaking his head. For a Navajo, he was awfully pale.

“Do you recognize the victim?” Ella asked, curious about his strong reaction.

“No. I doubt his family would either. I think it’s a boy about sixteen, tops.”

“Gang-style clothes?”

“Yeah. He has the red T-shirt and a white web belt with the Many Devils
gang sign on it.”

Ella felt a sinking feeling centering in her stomach. They’d need a hefty dose of courage to view the body if it had affected a seasoned cop like Michael so badly.

Justine gave her a worried look. “I’ll call the ME”

“I’ve done that already,” Michael said.

Ella took a deep breath. She could make out a body beside the rock face but, at that distance, it was impossible to tell
more.