Ghost Medicine (21 page)

“How did Norman find out? Was he with
you at the casinos or did you tell him?”

“Sometimes I guess he follows me.” She stared at the ground. “He always knows where I’ve been.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“He only does it to protect me.”

“So why are you afraid of him?”

Her eyes grew wide. “I never said I was.”

“No, but I can see how careful you are around him. Does he hit you?”

She shook her head. “No. He yells a lot and gets
upset, but he’s never hurt me.”

“Emotional threats can be scary. Is that what frightens you?” Ella asked.

She shook her head once more. “He can have anyone he wants, but he chose me. I’m lucky to have him. I want him to be happy with me, so I try not to get him upset. I’ve got a good thing going here.”

Alice started walking back toward the mobile home. Halfway, she stopped and turned to face
Ella. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s right about his neighbor. Something’s really wrong with Truman. I work with Eileen at the café, and I’ve seen what he’s done to her when he gets angry.”

“He hits her?”

She nodded. “She didn’t say so, but one day when she came in to pick up her check, she had a black eye and a split lip. It’s what a man’s fist does, I know. My dad used to do that to my
mom. That’s why I’d never stay with Norman if he ever hit me. Bruises hurt, but what a man breaks inside a woman—that never heals.”

Ella watched her walk away. What amazed her was that Alice didn’t see that she’d allowed herself to become just as trapped and controlled as her mother, and Eileen.

As they went back into the house, Norman immediately met them by the door and placed his arm around
Alice’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She looked back at Ella. “You should hear the calls at night—the howling. It makes your hair stand up on end. You can tell it’s not an animal.”

Norman nodded. “She’s right. I went out last night, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but the howling stopped once I started getting serious about tracking it down.”

Ella gave him her
card. “If you hear it again, stay inside and call me.”

“The cops have been out here plenty of times, trying to find the howler. Ask your patrol officers,” Norman said. “The really bad stuff just started happening, but those calls have been going on for over a month.”

“I’ll look into it myself, so if you hear it again, call me.”

Ella nodded to Justine. “Let’s go, partner.”

Neither of them spoke
on the way back to the SUV. Once Justine switched on the ignition, she glanced at Ella. “Where to, boss?”

“Go straight to the sheriff’s office in Kirtland. I want to be there with Blalock when he questions O’Donnell.”

*   *   *

Ella called Blalock on the way and updated him.

“It’s interesting that even before Harry was killed, someone was busy trying to scare the residents,” Blalock said in
a thoughtful voice. “We need to figure out if Harry’s murder was part of someone’s strategy to frighten the residents, an escalation of events already taking place, or a completely separate incident.”

“I still have no idea why a skinwalker would target that area. As Alice said, there’s nothing much there.”

“Don’t let the skinwalker angle sidetrack you, Clah. Right now we need to focus on Billy.
The deputies didn’t get any usable prints. We’ve got a date for the revolver but no idea when the other gear was taken. Get over here and let’s see what we can get from Billy. He knows a lot more than he’s told us.”

Ella ended the call and turned to Justine. “While I’m helping Blalock question O’Donnell, I want you to look deeper into Truman John’s past. He’s almost flippant about the presence
of Navajo witches, and I don’t trust someone with that attitude. Also, have Benny and Joe pull a photo of Alice and show it to the bar patrons and Alan Scott, Harry’s neighbor. See if anyone can ID her as the woman who was with Harry that Monday night.”

“You think maybe Alice moonlights as a hooker?”

“It’s possible. A sexy outfit, wig, and some makeup would bring her up to speed. She has a gambling
problem, too, and people like that are usually short of cash. It’s worth a try.”

FIFTEEN

By the time they arrived at the sheriff’s station, Ella was eager to start questioning Billy. There were too many intangibles in this case, and frustration was eating at her. What she and Harry shared back in the day hadn’t been perfect, but his name was indelibly written on the pages of her past. No matter what it took, she’d find his killer.

As she walked into the building, Justine
remained behind to follow up with the state lab in Santa Fe, where she’d sent some of the evidence for further testing. As she entered the station, Ella noticed Blalock talking to Sheriff Taylor. His office was in Aztec at SJCSO headquarters, but he spent a lot of time in the field, and often dropped by the Kirtland station.

She was at the front desk clipping her visitor’s pass onto her shirt
pocket when Blalock, alone now, came up to her.

“Let’s go. I caught up to Taylor while he was in the neighborhood briefing his deputy sheriff. Once we’re done with O’Donnell, we’ll turn copies of everything we’ve got over to county.”

As she entered the small interrogation room just behind Blalock, Ella noticed that Billy was already reacting to the uncomfortably warm temperature.

“It’s really
hot in here. How about turning on the air conditioner?” he said.

“I’m comfortable,” Ella said, though she knew it was near eighty.

Everything in the room was designed to make the suspect uncomfortable and anxious to leave. There was one small table in the center, with one chair for the suspect, and two chairs on the opposite side for the officers. A second detective would take the seat across
the table while the primary investigator would sit in front of the suspect, literally backing him up against the wall. If the suspect had an attorney, a fourth chair would be brought into the room.

“Talk to me, Billy. Right now we’ve got enough to put you away for fencing stolen merchandise—multiple charges, of course, and each one kicking in a few more years of jail time. Your only option is
to cooperate. If you do, we may be able to cut you a deal of some kind,” Blalock said, having seated himself right across from the suspect.

“Cooperate how? What do you want to know?”

“Start by telling us where you got the antique pottery we found at your store,” Blalock said.

“I pick up stuff on the Internet, at yard sales, out of the back of a pickup, flea markets, you name it,” O’Donnell
said. “Items like pottery don’t show up that often, so I don’t have any special inventory codes in my system for it. To me, it’s just miscellaneous merchandise. I bargain hard, buy cheap, and sell at the best price possible. It’s business.”

“Tell us about the merchandise in that hidden storage area?” Ella said, trying to rattle his composure. “I’m talking about inventory behind the big metal
shelf. That tactical gear and the weapons in there didn’t come from a yard sale or off the back of a truck.”

For a moment, O’Donnell just stared at them, a blank look on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a lousy liar,” Blalock said. “It was right behind the storage shelf. Press the trim, and the door pops open. Don’t add giving false statements to the FBI to the list
of charges you’re already facing.”

“Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “And because I’m at a loss here, it looks like you’ll have to wait until my attorney arrives.”

“Look, Billy, I’m not really interested in stolen county property. That’s for the sheriff’s department,” Ella said. “I’m a tribal police officer and I’m working a different case.” She pulled a photo of
Harry from her shirt pocket and placed it in front of him. “Do you know this man?”

O’Donnell glanced at it, then after a half a beat, spoke. “Never met him. Sorry.”

Ella noted the pause. “We have reason to believe he was investigating you. Take another look.”

O’Donnell didn’t look down. “Friend of yours?”

Ella continued to look at him but didn’t answer.

“I suppose it’s possible he may have
made a purchase at the Emporium, but I don’t remember him. You might ask some of my employees,” he said, leaning back. “Cassie works the register most of the day, show it to her.”

“Count on it,” Ella said.

Just then, a tall redheaded “suit” carrying a briefcase came in. “Don’t say another word, Billy.” He looked at Blalock and Ella. “I’m George Franco, Mr. O’Donnell’s attorney. Why don’t you
tell me what this is all about? Is my client being charged?”

Blalock gave him a description of what had transpired at the Emporium, including his client’s possession of unregistered Native American antiquities and stolen county law enforcement tactical gear and confiscated weapons.

“Those are very serious charges. I’ll need time to confer with my client in private,” Franco said.

“I’ve already
told them that this is the first I’ve heard about a hidden storeroom, and have nothing to do with those weapons and tactical gear. I took over the place after my dad passed away three months ago. He never said anything to me about this, and there’s no way you can hold me responsible for what he may or may not have done.”

“That’s a valid argument, Billy, but for now, don’t say anything else,”
Franco said, then looked at Blalock and Ella. “We’ll need some privacy. And get me a chair.”

“Take mine,” Ella responded, not about to fetch for the man.

As Blalock started for the door, Franco gestured to the window. “And turn off the mike.”

Blalock led the way back out; then they went to the break room. “I didn’t know that about O’Donnell’s father. If that’s true, O’Donnell could be released
within the hour. Though the circumstantial evidence is abundant, we can’t physically connect him to anything in that closet.”

Ella nodded. “Along with the county property, we have the pots and other antiquities, but the Emporium has been there for at least thirty years. It’s almost a landmark. I’m guessing you’re right. He’s going to make bail unless we can get more on him—in a hurry.”

“Along
with all the stolen inventory, the county judge included O’Donnell’s cell phone in the warrant. Let’s see what calls he’s got logged in there. If he spoke to Harry, that would give us a link between the men,” Blalock said.

“And prove that Billy lied to us,” Ella said.

Blalock stepped inside the first open office door to his right. “Where can we find your computer specialist, Mandy Stillwell?”

“Try the lab,” the office assistant said. “All the way down this hall, then turn right past the restrooms. It’s the first door to your left.”

“Thanks,” Blalock said.

They quickly arrived at a small work area resembling a storeroom. Metal shelves were piled high with monitors, CPUs, and layers of keyboards and other components. A wooden counter, probably a shop table at one time, contained two
oversized monitors, a laptop, and a CPU underneath. At the end of the counter closest to the door was a large laser printer. Beside it was a box of printer paper, and on the wall above it a large sign with an arrow pointed down, labeled
PRINTER
.

“Hi, guys,” Mandy greeted, turning in a swivel chair from the counter where she was working.

“We need to ask you about O’Donnell’s cell phone,” Blalock
said.

She nodded. “I’m already on it. I figured you’d need to know who he’d been talking to or texting—particularly if it was someone from the department.”

“And what did you find out?” Blalock said.

She looked down at her iPad. “The cell phone he’s using is a cheap throwaway, a burn phone. No numbers are stored in memory, and he’s only made five outgoing calls—one to his barber, two to his
bank, one to a take-out place, and one to a commercial landscape service.”

“That’s all?” Ella asked, surprised. “How long has he had the phone?”

“Three weeks,” Mandy said.

“He’s got to have another one somewhere,” Blalock said.

“I also checked calls made to and from the landline at the store, but there are hundreds of those for this past month alone. It’ll take a while for me to check them
all out, but so far I’ve got nothing that shows a pattern.”

“All right. If you find anything, let me know,” Blalock said, handing her his card.

“No problem, Special Agent Blalock,” she said, putting the card beside her keyboard.

As they walked back to the lobby, Justine met them and Ella updated her on what she’d learned.

“Why a disposable phone? People usually have those for a specific reason,”
Justine said. “Sometimes it’s just economics, but all too often it’s because the user is trying to avoid being tracked.”

“We’re thinking there’s another cell phone, one he wasn’t carrying on him when we met up,” Ella said, looking to Blalock, who nodded.

“After we go another round with Billy, let’s head back to his store. We don’t have a warrant for his residence yet, but I’ve made the request
and maybe by the time we’re done, we will,” Blalock said.

They returned to the interrogation room, and Franco stood as they came in. “I’ve had an officer lower the thermostat in here. My client has a heart condition and keeping it that hot was a willful disregard for his safety.”

Ella forced herself not to roll her eyes. “He didn’t mention any heart problems to us, Counselor.”

“You’re a tribal
officer and you have no jurisdiction here. Why are you talking to my client at all?” Franco said.

“She’s with me, Counselor,” Blalock said, holding up his Bureau badge. He motioned for Ella to sit, and she positioned herself facing the attorney.

Blalock stayed on his feet, across from the suspect, and began to question Billy again, but Franco answered each time “on behalf of his client,” refusing
to allow Billy to say a word.

After ten frustrating minutes, Blalock stepped back, throwing up his hands. “I’m done here.”

“Will you, or the sheriff’s deputies, be booking my client?” Franco said.

Blalock shook his head. “I’m not taking any further action at this time. Sheriff Taylor’s investigators will interview him next. I don’t know what their plans are for the suspect or what charges he’ll
be facing.”