Enemy Way (5 page)

Her throat tightened as she saw the hundreds of small cubes of glass strewn across the asphalt. There were skid
marks, but from their overlapping pattern it was apparent they were made as one vehicle shoved the other back, their front wheels locked up by twisted metal. Her mother probably hadn’t had time to swerve or hit the brakes before the impact.

As she continued her methodical search, she saw small pools of blood on the pavement. Ella swallowed convulsively, determined to fight the tears of anger
that stung her eyes. As she walked over to where a section of plastic grill lay at the side of the highway, the beam of her flashlight fell over some curious tracks in the dirt. Hauntingly familiar marks, about the size of quarters, dotted the ground in a trail that led away from the scene.

Ella knelt down, studying the tracks, ignoring the cold shudder that was running up her spine. Each circle
had a smaller concentric circle inside it, and there was an indentation in the middle, like a dot. Last year she’d encountered marks like these, almost certainly left by the rubber tip of a cane, in places where people had been hurt, or lives threatened, including her own. The person leaving those marks had never been identified.

She stood up slowly. Finding these marks here, now, raised many
questions in her mind. Before she could sort out her thoughts, she heard a vehicle slowing down behind her. Its headlights half blinded her as it pulled off the highway fifty feet away.

Ella reached down, laying her hand over the butt of her pistol as she squinted, avoiding looking directly at the vehicle. Braced for trouble, she moved off the shoulder of the road into darkness, turning off her
flashlight as she waited to see who the driver was.

He stepped out of the pickup, leaving the engine running. She recognized her neighbor Kevin Tolino as he appeared in the glow of the vehicle’s headlights. Kevin was a tribal attorney, like Bekis, although, admittedly, he was one of the more respected members of the community and not just because he was of the same clan as the Tribal President.
His standing had come as a result of his prowess in standing up for Navajo rights in the Anglo courts, not his political connections.

“Counselor,” she greeted him coldly, stepping back up onto the road. She was not in the mood to deal with any more lawyers tonight. “What brings you here?”

“I was on my way home when I noticed you by the road. Is there a criminal investigation here? I can see
there’s been an accident, but I didn’t think you normally handled traffic calls.”

“This seems to be my day for it. Does your curiosity have something to do with two tribal attorneys who are now involved in this DWI case?”

“What DWI? I’ve been out of town for a week. What happened?”

“My mother was badly injured right here earlier tonight in a head-on Leo Bekis caused,” Ella said. “The man was
so drunk he could barely walk over an hour after the wreck. Robert Kauley is representing him, and is already trying to get the man off by discrediting the Breathalyzer test.”

Something flashed in Kevin’s eyes, an emotion that appeared and was gone before she could identify it. “Kauley is no paragon of virtue, but it’s his job to dispute the evidence if he thinks it’s appropriate to do so,” Kevin
said quietly. “I’m really sorry to hear about your mother, though. What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. I want no help, not from any lawyer, not ever. You ought to be ashamed of your profession, with people like Bekis and Kauley representing it. Lawyers prey on society like scavengers, cockroaches, casting aside any notion of justice and morality in exchange for money. I have no respect for anyone
who manipulates and evades the law for any sleazeball with enough money to buy their conscience.” Ella stepped away from Kevin as if he carried the plague.

“I know you’re hurting,” Kevin said quietly, “so I’ll forget your angry words. You know sweeping statements like that have no basis in reality.”

His calm demeanor only increased her anger, but, before she could vent it, Kevin strode back
to his truck.

As she watched him drive away, she heard her call sign come over the radio. Ella went to the Jeep and answered the summons. It was Tache. The bank robbers had been processed, and were now in jail. Leo Bekis was locked up too, but they expected him to make bail and be released by morning.

Not trusting her voice, she answered only with a quick 10–4.

The lonely highway, and the darkness
engulfing her vehicle, suited Ella’s mood as she drove out into the emptiness that greeted her. There was no disputing that her mother’s vehicle had been hit by a drunk driver, and surely that was something no one could have arranged. Still, intuition told her that there was more going on than what appeared on the surface.

Her thoughts circled like wolves sniffing the breeze. She needed to talk
to her brother and find a way to squelch the anger and the fear that was slowly taking her over, filling her with a numbing coldness that had nothing to do with the weather.

Although she didn’t really expect Clifford to be home, she followed the impulse to drive by his house. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt drawn there. Knowing her intuition had never steered her wrong, she turned onto the
dirt track that led to her brother’s home.

THREE

Ella maneuvered carefully, knowing by heart where each and every rut and pothole lay without the help of her headlights. She’d traveled this stretch many times, and might have done just as well driving by moonlight alone.

As she approached Clifford’s home, she was surprised to see the lights were on in the kitchen. More important, as the blanket that covered the entrance to the ceremonial
hogan behind the house fluttered in the breeze, she caught a glimpse of her brother inside, working.

Something unexpected must have come up if he’d cut his trip short. Ella didn’t wait in the car as customary to be invited in, since the circumstances were far from normal.

As she got out of the Jeep, her brother came to meet her. “I had a feeling something was wrong,” Clifford said. “It was as
if you were calling to me, so I came back. What’s happened?”

Ella told him everything, including the evidence she’d seen at the accident scene and the cane-like impressions she’d found on the ground nearby. Like her, he knew their significance.

“We’ll discuss this on the way to the hospital,” Clifford said immediately. “I have to be there. Medical science has never truly understood the importance
of treating the body and mind as a whole. They’ll treat her body, but the rest will be up to us.”

“You can go with me. It’s time I was getting back, anyway.”

“There are a few things I’ll need from the house, and my wife and son need to be told about the accident. I won’t be long.” He ran inside. When he came out moments later, her Jeep was already running.

They rode in silence for a while,
but throughout the trip she could feel her brother’s gaze on her.

“I can sense the anger in you,” he said at last. “If you don’t control it, it will blind your thoughts and destroy your ability to function.”

She took her eyes off the road for a moment and glared at him. “It’s better to feel this anger than the nothingness I felt a short time ago. For a while, it was like being dead inside. Do
you realize how close we came to losing our second parent to lawlessness on the Rez? I’m supposed to protect people from these scumbags, not come around later and pick up the pieces.”

He exhaled softly. “Pride. That has always been your Achilles’ heel, little sister.”

“This isn’t pride. It’s a fact. Our mother is lying unconscious in a hospital bed right now, her legs shattered, because some
drunk weaseled his way through the system.”

“You can’t be all things to all people. You don’t want to be just a cop, you want to be Superwoman.”

“Stuff it,” she growled at him. He was partially right, but she had no patience for psychoanalytical babble right now. Her love for her mother was real, and the hurt and helplessness she felt because of what had happened was worse than a knife in her
heart.

“Don’t you see what’s happening to you?” Clifford warned, as if reading her mind. “That darkness will destroy you if you let it. Right now, you want the power to change the wrongs. It’s almost a need. That’s a bad road to go down. Control and channel your emotions.”

“I
do
want power. I want to be in a position to really change things for the better, but I can’t do anything unless I can
change the system.” She shook her head. “Problem is I have the wrong temperament for rulemaking and politics. Tonight, for example, I met someone who really is in a position to change things. Yet, instead of challenging him to do just that, I nearly took his head off.” She told him about her meeting with Kevin.

“Bad mistake. You should remain on good terms with the best lawyer around. Someday
we may need his services. He’s an honest man and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do,” she sighed.

As they passed a new low income housing area near the highway, Clifford sat up slowly, his body tense.

Ella nodded. “Yeah, I get an uneasy feeling whenever I drive through this area, too.” She looked at the half-dozen teenagers standing beneath the yellow porch light in front of one of the houses. They
were dressed in extremely baggy pants, with long military-style web belts with brass tips, and dark athletic sports jackets which promoted an Arizona college team.

They held their hands in front of their chests, making a peculiar half circle with thumb and forefinger with their left hand, connected with three downward fingers from their right.

“What are they doing?”

“They know my Jeep, most
of the kids do. You can look at that as a hello, or a challenge. That’s their version of sign language. They’re identifying their gang with a crude
MD
—Many Devils. They know there’s nothing I can do about that, they’re not breaking curfew yet, or causing a disturbance.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I wonder if they’re the reason we both get a strange feeling around here. Gangs are becoming
all too common on the Rez with kids who don’t get involved in school activities, or find something useful to do.”

“Something bad
is
happening here, something that could shake the entire community. They’re part of the problem, but not all of it,” Clifford said, his voice distant and thoughtful.

Picking up the mike, Ella asked for a patrol car to make another pass through the neighborhood after
curfew.

“Our mother’s accident, the cane prints, this feeling I get in certain areas around here … it makes me wonder about skinwalkers. Our old enemies did swear to get their revenge.” Ella checked in her rearview mirror as a chill ran down her spine.

“Yes, but how would they get a drunk to do their work for them?” Clifford shook his head. “This time I don’t think they’re to blame. Nobody can
rely on an alcoholic. Drunk driving is a problem on the Rez, one of the biggest. Our mother is simply the latest victim.”

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Ella had started to feel the first signs of weariness. It had been a very long day.

They checked at the desk and, verifying that their mother was still in the recovery room, sat down in the waiting area. Ella leaned back against the
well-worn vinyl seat. It crackled as she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.

A moment later, a young Navajo nurse came out and greeted them. “Mrs. Destea is going to be wheeled out shortly. She’s awake, though still very groggy. We’ll place her in Room One-oh-four, just down the hall. What she needs most of all right now is rest. Please don’t visit for too long.”

Ella nodded. “I
understand. Thank you.”

Ella and Clifford walked into their mother’s room as soon as the nurse gave them the okay. Rose looked terribly pale, and old well beyond her years. It was a shock seeing her this weak and vulnerable, and Ella could tell that Clifford was equally moved, though he would never mention it.

“I’ll stay with Mom tonight, little sister. Go home. You’re asleep on your feet.”

Ella shook her head. “We’ll take turns sleeping and watching over her tonight. Once she’s really awake, I want her to see us both here. I can’t imagine anything worse than coming out of an experience like the one she’s been through and finding only strangers.”

“That’s one area where Navajo ways are superior to Anglo medicine,” Clifford nodded. “In the old time, a patient would have a Sing done
for her while she was surrounded by family and friends. This support would help her get better. Hospitals make few concessions to the human needs of the patient. Of course a Sing is out of the question here because it’s the wrong kind of atmosphere, and the elaborate preparations that are required would disrupt hospital procedures. To the staff there, those are paramount.” He shook his head.

Ella smiled. “Progress isn’t always a road without obstructions.”

Clifford glanced at his mother, concern etched on his features. “No, it sure isn’t.”

*   *   *

Ella woke up in the armchair she’d brought into her mother’s room, her entire body stiff and sore. Every few hours through the night she’d been awakened by a nurse coming in to check on her mom’s vital signs. Rose had slept through each
session.

As she sat up, Ella looked around and noticed her brother at the window, saying his prayers to the dawn. Sometimes she wished she could have been more like him. He had confidence and a strength that came from his beliefs. Those beliefs defined him in a way she envied. Clifford fit a very real need within the tribe, one that even modern medicine couldn’t touch. And, unlike a cop, he had
the respect of everyone.

As Ella glanced over to her mother’s bed, she saw Rose open her eyes. “You’re awake,” Ella announced.

Clifford turned and smiled. “How are you, Mother?”

“Tired. I’m so tired,” she said. “And my body hurts all over.”

As she finished speaking, a nurse came into the room. “You two children will have to leave now. I need to examine your mother.”

Ella glanced at Rose.
“If you want me to stay, I will.”