Mourning Dove (40 page)

Ella took a look around, and all she could see were SWAT members and her approaching team. “You saved my neck, Samuel.”

“I came in behind your team and saw you working up the line. You were doing just fine without me until that last shooter showed up. He must have moved around a lot, because those bullets that kicked up right beside you couldn’t have come from his last position.”

“Maybe it was
friendly fire,” she said. But she knew better. Sanders, wherever he was now, was going to remain in her crosshairs.

Two hours later, Justine and Ella were still at the scene, helping the county and Farmington PD process the evidence despite being out of their jurisdiction. As expected, all but two of the vehicles were stolen, cooling off before being moved out of the area. Those two that were
being stripped had their most valuable parts already boxed up, ready to sell.

As she and Justine were looking at the list of vehicles and their serial numbers, Blalock walked over and motioned them away from the stolen parts storage location.

“We’ve got a problem,” Blalock said, keeping his voice low. “I saw the round you suggested we look for in that tire, one of those that barely missed you.
The first thing the FPD tech that dug it out said was, ‘Hey, that’s one of ours’, meaning a nine-millimeter one hundred-twenty-four-grain Gold Dot hollow point—department issue. None of the perps were using those rounds in their weapons, based on what’s been recovered so far.”

“Were any of the perps wearing black jackets or shirts?” Justine
asked. “Ella said that some of the shots coming at her
came from a man with a black top.”

Blalock shook his head. “The prisoner, and the five that went down were all wearing other colors. One of the dead perps was wearing a brown long-sleeved T-shirt, but he was taken out early in the firefight behind the first row of trucks.”

Ella remembered seeing him. The facts were clear to her, now, and the implication pointed toward Sanders and the weapons-smuggling
operation. “Sanders,” Ella said flatly. “Where is he?”

“Outside, talking to his captain and Sheriff Taylor.”

“You all heard the radio traffic, and it was recorded over the network. I was supposed to rescue Sanders, but suddenly he ‘disappeared’ and I started taking fire. I think he tried to set me up.”

Blalock nodded slowly. “I’m interested to read how he explains all this in his debrief and
the action report. Sheriff Taylor will get custody of the evidence, so we don’t have to worry about Sanders tampering with the bullets and audio, but, since we’re outside the Rez and dealing with possible corruption, I’m going to get some federal people, maybe ATF, to start watching Sanders.”

Although no one had heard him approach, Samuel stepped around from behind one of the trucks, just five
feet away. “That’s a good idea. He was a solid partner before shipping overseas. But lately he’s been working against me. Jimmy apparently sent me an express-mail package, but I never got it. The only reason I discovered it at all is that a couple of days ago I ran into the department secretary and she happened to mention a package from Jimmy that Sergeant Sanders had accepted on my behalf. It came
on the day my brother died. I’d moved recently, and my mail was being forwarded to the station. I asked Sanders about it, but he claimed that our secretary was mistaken—it was to him from a relative also named Jimmy.”

Samuel looked around, then motioned them closer, and spoke softly. “So I decided to search his office today when he
was out and see for myself. The desk locks are easy to pick.
Inside, I found what looked like the last part of a kid’s story Jimmy had written. I recognized my brother’s handwriting right away. He was a wannabe writer, remember? The tale didn’t make much sense with the first four pages missing, but what caught my attention was that it didn’t read like one of Jimmy’s stories. It looked more like some kind of code using a mix of Navajo names I recognized and
some others I wasn’t sure about. I made a copy, and put the original back so Sanders wouldn’t know I’d seen it.”

Samuel shook his head, his face grim. “But the bottom line is that Sanders lied to me, and he stole something my brother had intended me to have. Maybe Sanders was the one who took the stories from Jimmy’s house, too. I’m not sure what went on overseas, but if it has to do with those
stolen weapons I’ve been hearing about, and Jimmy’s dead because of it, Sanders is involved.”

“Maybe now’s the time to tell you about the first half of Jimmy’s story,” Ella said. “He sent me pages one to four but I haven’t exactly been ready to share—until now. But first, let’s catch the bad guys,” Ella added.

Ella was at the county jail waiting outside the interview room where the perp she
and Samuel had captured was being questioned by representatives from several agencies. As she waited, she got Big Ed on her cell phone.

The car-theft gang had been struck a mortal blow, and the investigation regarding Jimmy Blacksheep’s murder had led to at least two viable suspects. These events had taken some pressure off Big Ed, and he had an upbeat tone for a change. “I just got a call from
the Bureau. They’d been checking the gunrunning suspects’ bank accounts for suspicious activity and there’s more money in them than can be explained by their salaries, though my guess is that most of their take is in cash,” he informed her.
“Based on black-market gun sales, their estimated profits could go up as high as half a million.”

Ella whistled low. “We’ve got Richardson and Sanders in
the hot seat. We’ll keep pushing.”

“Do that.”

Ella closed the phone and filled in Blalock, who was keeping his back to the wall—figurative and literally. “Have you checked with Neil Carson?” she asked.

“Yes. Apparently, that e-mail Richardson got was backtracked by the techs to Kent Miller, who was Jimmy’s sergeant. He’s one of Carson’s short-list suspects in the ‘accidental’ deaths of those
two soldiers in Jimmy’s unit over in Iraq, the ones we think Jimmy called Konik and Bula.”

“Miller? We’ve been trying to find him for a week. He was supposed to be roaming around fishing spots and unavailable.”

“Well, he’s surfaced now, and Carson has a location. Based on the computer used to send the e-mail, Miller’s in an older section of Farmington at his brother’s home. The brother’s a gunsmith,
wouldn’t you know. Carson wants to nail Miller before Sanders or anyone else can warn him, or Miller has a chance to destroy any evidence he might still have in his possession.”

“I think Carson’s right about that,” Ella said.

“The big guy also gave me a serious heads-up. Calvin Sanders and Miller were first on the scene in Iraq when those two soldiers died, so it could have been staged.”

Justine
came up to her a moment later. “Bad news. Sanders didn’t report to his police chief after he left the riding academy. His own PD is worried that he might have been ambushed by another carjacker after he left the scene. They have officers out looking for him.”

“They don’t have a clue. He’s probably making a run for it,” Ella said.

“Or warning the men Richardson’s supposed to meet,” Blalock suggested.

“We better move fast, or we’ll lose them,” Ella said.

“Who do you want to trust at this point? Where do we go for backup?” Blalock asked.

Ella considered it for a moment. “ATF. They and you will provide the jurisdiction. We’ll also take Samuel with us, and ask Big Ed to find trustworthy backup for us in FPD. But we can’t wait. While they’re getting our backup together, we’ll have to roll.”

“Agreed,” Blalock said.

As they hurried outside to their units, Ella recalled the two recent firefights she’d been thrown into. The suspects might not go down easy this time either, especially if Sanders was among them. But Navajo blood had been spilled, and balance needed to be restored.

E
lla, crouched low near the front grille of her vehicle, stared through binoculars at the wood-framed white house sitting on a gentle sloping hill. They’d ordered the perps to come out, but their response had been a swift and deadly burst of automatic gunfire that had sent everyone diving for cover and shattered the windows on Blalock’s car, which had been parked
across the street closest to the house.

“They’re armed to the teeth in there. But why on earth are they fighting? It’s broad daylight and there’s no way out,” Justine called in over the radio.

Justine, Officer Blacksheep, and two ATF men were covering the rear and one side of the house, which was essentially surrounded now, and they were all on the same tactical frequency. “The house is alone
up there, surrounded by a big, open lawn and a cliff on the left nobody could climb up without mountain gear,” Justine added. “If they try to make a run for their cars, they won’t get ten steps.”

“I’ll tell you why they’re going to fight it out,” Carson said, speaking into his radio. Leaving Richardson in jail, the CID man had insisted on taking part in the operation and had arrived at the same
time as Ella and the others. “They’re facing life or a firing squad for their crimes while in the military, then civil charges as
well, including homicide. Men who’ve just come back from combat often have a tough time adjusting. Adrenaline gets in your blood when you live on the edge for months at a time. Going out in a blaze—fast and hard—might appeal to them a lot more than life in prison.”

Once again Blalock brought up the bullhorn and ordered them to come out. They all flattened again as a renewed burst of fire peppered Blalock’s vehicle in response.

Samuel and Blalock scrambled away from it, using the vehicle as a screen until they reached Ella’s car.

“Come on up and play,” someone yelled from the house.

Ella didn’t recognize the voice—maybe it was Miller or his brother. An
uneasy silence settled over the area once again. Ella glanced at Blalock. “We’ll have to wait them out. In fifteen more minutes, we should have enough backup and firepower to come up with a plan.”

“Sanders and Miller are both cowboys. I spoke with their company commander, and these guys were always proactive, pushing for action. If you don’t go after them, they’re going to come out for us,” Carson
said. “You’ve got to understand their mind-set. They
want
something to happen.”

“Better to have a good defense than a weak offense. These guys are packing more firepower than we are right now, but if they come out firing, we should still be able to pick them off. If they wait us out, then
we’ll
have the manpower to force a surrender. Either way we win,” Ella said.

Blalock gave her an approving
nod. “Sounds right,” he said softly.

“One thing we need to take into consideration is that we have no idea what’s in the basement,” Justine said. “That makes them a possible danger to the surrounding community. For all we know, they collected bombs and plan to blow up the block.”

“They’ve been doing this for the money, and the adventure. If they decide to commit suicide, my guess is that they’ll
do it in
a firefight, not in a sudden blast,” Ella said. “Either way, we’re not in a position to stop them from doing anything inside at the moment. Two of us need to move back across the street and take up positions at either end of the Bureau car so they won’t be able to use it as a screen. Then all we need to do is sit tight and stay sharp. We’ll lessen casualties that way,” Ella answered.
“Worst-case scenario, we use tear gas or set fire to the house.”

Carson glanced at Ella and nodded. “Sound strategy with our limited resources. In the military we call it aggressive defense. You force the other guy to attack you.”

“Let’s see how it works out before we issue any commendations,” Ella answered somberly. She’d seen too many operations go wrong in the blink of an eye to count her
victories before they were earned. “Meanwhile, let’s make sure they can’t drive away in those vehicles.” Ella raised her pistol, took careful aim, and shot out the right front tire of the car closest to the house.

“Now I’m having fun,” Carson said, shooting out the front tire of the second vehicle, an SUV. “Now let’s you and me go use FB-Eyes’s car for cover,” he added, glancing at Ella.

Minutes
passed slowly but Carson’s words about looking for action and spoiling for a fight stayed in her mind. She understood wanting to avoid the boring sameness of a routine life. That’s why she hated administrative duties. It was in situations like these—where death waited in the sidelines—that she felt most alive. Danger helped her appreciate everything in her life more.

She thought of her daughter.
The love she felt for Dawn went so deep it had become part of each heartbeat and every breath she took. Dawn was the only reason she’d ever consider going back to Kevin. She’d often thought of giving in to his frequent suggestions that she leave the field and marry him. But the day she did that, she knew she’d lose a vital piece of herself.

Her work defined her. She restored order. She made sure
that good and evil were kept in balance so that harmony could prevail.
This is who she was and that was the legacy she wanted to leave for her daughter.

Suddenly the men inside opened fire, and they were forced to duck. The door burst open, and a man wearing heavy body armor came out blazing away with an assault rifle. Then, out came a second and third man, also wielding what looked like AK assault
rifles.