Turquoise Girl (23 page)

“Why do you say that?” Ella pressed.

“He was a good-looking man and, in public, he was very personable. Most people were taken in by him, but beneath all the charm,
he was a violent man. I once saw him severely beating a kid who’d painted something on the outside wall of his shop. The second he saw me, he let the kid go, but I was never fooled by him after that.”

“I know it’s been a long time, but he seems to have disappeared after his print shop closed down. Do you have any idea where he moved to, or where we might be able to find him now?”

Mrs. Leland
hesitated before answering. “I don’t know for sure where he went, but maybe I can help you find him. Will you give me a minute to remember a few things?”

Ella smiled and nodded. Anglos often apologized when they didn’t have an instant answer or for allowing a pause in the conversation stretch out. Navajos, in contrast, believed it was extremely rude not to allow people time to think and reflect
at leisure.

“Back then my husband and I were having a problem with another merchant who kept tossing boxes and such into our Dumpster and leaving us with no place for our own trash. Bob, my late husband, and I took turns watching, hoping we’d catch whoever it was. Then one evening, just after dark, I saw someone who looked like Caleb come up and stuff two large trash bags into our bin. I wanted
to be positive—my eyesight’s never been great—so I opened one of the bags, intending to wave some proof under his nose if I was right. But most of what I saw were copies of documents with the name Caleb Lujan on them. Several pages appeared to have been failed attempts to print out a phony New Mexico driver’s license. The picture was Caleb Frank’s, but the name was always Caleb Lujan. The name
stuck with me because it’s my daughter-in-law’s maiden name.”

“Did you confront him with that?” Ella asked, curious to learn what the man’s reaction had been.

“Bob and I decided to go talk to him the following morning but Caleb’s shop had closed down for good and we never saw him again. The owner of the property came by a few days later, wondering where Caleb had gone. Caleb had stiffed him
out of two months’ rent.”

After thanking her, they walked outside and stopped by Emily’s sheriff department’s vehicle.

“Lujan’s a pretty common name around here,” Justine said, “but Caleb’s is a little more rare in this day and age. Maybe we’ll get a fast hit and be able to track the guy down.”

“An amateur changing his identity often keeps his first name so he won’t be as likely to slip up.
But Caleb
is
distinctive. Good luck to you both,” Emily said as a call came over her radio. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

Once inside the tribal cruiser, Ella contacted Teeny at the station while Justine headed back to the Rez. “I want you to get me everything you can on Caleb Lujan or anyone else in the area with that first name. Then cross-reference against the construction company’s records
and see if anyone using that first name is employed there.”

“Consider it done,” Teeny said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“This Caleb Lujan must be the same guy who’s calling himself Leroy Atso,” Justine said. “We already know he’s using a phony identity.”

“It’s a good bet.” As Ella placed the cell phone on her lap, she glanced over at Justine. “I’ve been considering all the conflicting
details associated with these crimes. Like the skinwalker angle versus the passages of Scripture. Philosophically, those things are poles apart.”

“Totally incompatible, unless you’re right about the skinwalker angle being a red herring the killer threw in there just to confuse us.”

“Or maybe the reason it doesn’t make sense is because we’re dealing with two killers,” Ella said. “We need to hit
the computers and concentrate on that possibility now.” It was her least favorite thing, but would save time in the long run.

Twenty minutes later they sat in the crowded office. Blalock was still accessing VICAP and no one had found any information revealing the father of the Kayenta woman’s baby.

“But I do have something for you,” Teeny said, glancing back at Ella from where he sat at the
keyboard. “I’ve been following a trail that started at Shiprock. Caleb Lujan appeared there suddenly after Caleb Frank sold his business and slipped off the radar. But he didn’t stick around. A nationwide search revealed that a Caleb Lujan—listed as a Navajo—served nine years for burglary in the state pen in California after a former partner ratted him out. The authorities had a tough time establishing
his identity because he had no birth certificate and no previous fingerprint records anywhere. His sentence started in late 1996. He got out on parole eight years later, failed to report to his parole officer, and just disappeared.”

“Prison records carry photos,” Ella said, standing up.

“Already on it. There it is,” Teeny said, clicking the mouse, then leaning back.

“That’s him, the same guy
who was taunting me from across the ditch, scar and all,” Ella said. “I should have nabbed the psycho right then.”

Big Ed came into the room while she was still speaking and looked over her shoulder at the photo. “Make that available to everyone in the department.”

Ella stared at the photo, lost in thought. “His parole officer has no clue where he is and that was over two years ago. The Kayenta
woman was killed last year….”

“What do you think links him to those women and Valerie?” he asked.

“He probably knew the women,” Ella answered. “They attended the same church at the same time. If he’s a ladies’ man, he may have had affairs with all of them. Those affairs may have produced children. Some of the victims’ children were killed later on,” Ella said slowly. “These younger victims must
have been singled out for some reason, then erased, along with their mothers. This killer is organized, with a plan in mind.”

“Wait a minute,” Big Ed said. “The kid angle…it doesn’t really add up. I mean where would Valerie fit in with all that? She lived on her own and there’s no child in the picture.”

A cold chill wrapped around Ella. “Valerie had a daughter, Jennifer Clani—Boots. She’s with
my own daughter right now.”

Ella was out of her chair in a flash. “Alert the officer who’s over there,” she called back at the chief.

“Shorty, you may be overreacting,” Big Ed warned, hurrying to catch up to her. “There’s supporting evidence, I know, and the arrows seem to be pointing to Caleb. But all we have right now is a good theory.”

“A theory is enough when my kid’s involved,” Ella said, already halfway down the hall. “What if Caleb’s on some sick crusade, making up for past sins? He was preaching to me across the ditch at the church, talking about the sins of the father, and how he was going to be the instrument of justice. The ones he killed may have been his own kids, and the crimes, a sacrifice of atonement before God, righting
some perceived wrong, or some such nonsense. Zealots have killed hundreds using weaker logic than that. Prison may have just interrupted his disturbed agenda. He’s been sending out signals, and now I think I know what he’s been trying to tell us.”

Ella hurried out the lobby door to their patrol car, but Justine raced past her and dove behind the wheel before Ella could reach it. “I’m driving,”
she said.

“Don’t take your time getting there, got it?” Ella snapped.

Justine turned on the sirens, and seconds later they were on the highway.

Ella tried to phone ahead, but all she got was the answering machine at Kevin’s place. Her heart was pounding inside her, but she said nothing and tried desperately to hang on to one thought—her daughter wasn’t the killer’s target. But if Caleb harmed
Boots, there wouldn’t be a hole deep enough for him to crawl into. She’d make sure of that.

“We
could
be wrong about all this,” Justine said. “It
is
just a theory at this point.”

“Yeah, but it
feels
right, you know?” She wasn’t sure if it was mother’s instinct, or something more, but she
knew
that Boots was in danger…and so was her child as long as Boots was with her.

Ella checked her watch.
“Dawn got out of school a short while ago. Boots may be outside waiting for the bus,” she said.

“Do you know anything at all about Boots’s father?”

Ella tried to think back, but if she’d ever heard anything on the subject, she couldn’t remember it. Her cell phone rang and she picked it up in mid-tone. Ella recognized Teeny’s voice instantly.

“We got the report from VICAP but we hit nothing
there. I called my friend at the LAPD and he checked for us. A devil’s mask was found across the street from the crime scene in a public park. Kids were playing with it, but they said they’d taken it from atop a trash can. Nobody saw who put it there. The detectives kept the mask along with the other evidence because the girl who’d survived the attack had mentioned seeing one. But they were never
able to prove, one way or another, if it was the one used by the killer.”

“Any DNA on it?”

“It had been thrown in the trash and handled by a half dozen kids. And, at the time, DNA samples weren’t being taken automatically. All the officers got were a few hairs, and those were traced to one of the kids at the park who’d put on the mask.”

“Check the DNA that belonged to the dead children. Caleb
Frank’s DNA is bound to be on record because he served time. If there’s a paternal match, then my theory that he’s killing his own children and their mothers is right on target.”

“We don’t have Boots’s DNA, so don’t jump to conclusions,” Teeny warned. “But I’ll stay on this and call you the minute I’ve got something.”

Teeny spoke to someone beside him, then to Ella. “Blalock is going to Farmington
to begin a search for Caleb using FPD and other county resources. If he’s off the Rez, Dwayne will find him.”

“Good.” Ella hung up. They were approaching a school bus, and Justine was automatically slowing down. The flashers on the bus came on a moment later, and the little stop sign swung out from the driver’s side.

Justine stopped about fifty feet away from the rear of the bus. “That’s the
right bus and stop, correct?”

Ella nodded. “And there’s Boots.” She pointed to Jennifer Clani, who was standing beside a pickup talking to one of the moms waiting for her kids.

Ella inhaled sharply, suddenly aware that she’d been holding her breath. “There. Dawn just got off.”

“I see her,” Justine said, just as Ella jumped out the passenger side.

Ella ran over, scooped Dawn up in her arms,
and hugged her tightly.

“Mooooom!” Dawn squealed, drawing the word out in horror.

Ella laughed. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m just glad to see you.” Boots was smiling, obviously surprised to see her, too.

“We need to talk,” Ella said, looking over at Boots.

“Right now?” she asked. “It’s fine, of course,” she added quickly. “What do you need—” She stopped abruptly as Ella held up one hand.

“Not here.
Let’s all go to her father’s house first,” Ella said, glancing down at Dawn. “I’ll call my mother and see if she can come over while you come with us to the station. I’ll explain then.”

“Nothing’s happened to my grandmother, has it?” Boots asked, suddenly alarmed.

“No. This isn’t about her. But let’s wait until we have more privacy,” Ella glanced over at Dawn.

Boots nodded.

Less than a half
hour later—which considering the distance Rose had traveled meant she’d wasted no precious seconds—Rose showed up at Kevin’s house. They’d all been sitting on the porch, waiting, and as Rose stepped out of the pickup, Dawn hurried to greet her.

“
Shimasání,
I’m glad you’re here! I’ve wanted to show you Dad’s new horse!”

Rose glanced over at Ella. “Go and take as much time as you need. I’ll stay
with my granddaughter.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Ella said, relieved. She knew Rose would remain with Dawn whether it took an hour or a month. After saying good-bye, Ella walked to the squad car, Boots between them.

They’d just pulled away from the house when Boots spoke. “Have I done something wrong? I’m not being arrested, am I? These doors don’t have handles back here.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,”
Ella reassured her quickly. “We think you’re in immediate danger, Boots, and we need to take you somewhere you’ll be safe.”

“Is my grandmother in danger as well?”

“No, I don’t believe so. This is a matter that centers on your mother…and you. Do you know who your father was, Boots?” she asked directly, hoping her theory was wrong.

“My mom had many friends,” she said slowly. “That’s what she
called them. I don’t think she ever really knew who my dad was. She left home and lived on her own from the time she was fifteen.”

Boots paused for several moments, then continued in a thoughtful voice. “When I was younger I used to be curious about my father and who he might be. But then as I got older, I realized it didn’t matter. As Navajos, we inherit the things that matter most, like our
clans, through our mothers. My own mother wasn’t around much but
Shimasání
and I had each other and that was enough,” she said, then after a long pause, added, “But why is knowing who my father is so important to you?”

Ella wondered how much to tell her. “It’s possible he might know why your mother was murdered.” Ella paused for a moment then continued. “There is one way you can help us right
now. Would you consent to a DNA test?”

Her eyes widened. “What do I have to do?”

“Just let Justine swab the side of your mouth. It won’t hurt at all. How about it?”

Boots considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, if you really need it.”

The sample was taken as soon as they reached the station, and Ella went with Justine to her lab while Boots remained in Ella’s office. “How long?” she
asked Justine, knowing no further explanation was needed.

“I’ll get it to Farmington, and from there it’ll be flown to the state lab in Santa Fe. They’re going to expedite it, but it’ll still be at least one day before we have the results, maybe two.”

Ella returned to her office and met with Boots. “I’d like you to stay in a safe house tonight. A police officer will guard you,” Ella said.

“Where is this safe house, and which police officer is going to stay with me?” she asked.

Reasonable questions, but Ella had yet to work that part out. “Give me a few minutes to make all the arrangements. I just wanted to run my plan past you first.”

“You mean I don’t have to accept?” she asked, reading between the lines.

“That’s right, but I’d strongly recommend that you do. If we’re wrong,
then no harm will be done, but if we’re right, it might save your life.”

“Do you think my father is trying to kill me?” she asked directly. “And that he was the one who killed my mother?”

Ella knew she couldn’t avoid the details anymore. Boots was a bright young woman who deserved an explanation.

As Ella told her what she knew, Boots seemed to pull back into herself, her dark eyes flat and
hooded. Then, with the self-possession of a woman twice her age, she finally spoke in an even tone. “My grandmother will be worried if I don’t come home tonight unless I can talk to her first. I need to let her know what’s going on.”

With a wave of her hand, Ella invited Boots to use her phone. “Tell her you’re under my care, Boots.”

“May I speak to her alone?”

Ella nodded. “Dial nine first
for an outside line,” she said, then walked out of the office. Seeing Big Ed, Ella explained her plan to him.

“I think that’s sound thinking. But who’ll be guarding Boots?”

“I was going to ask Philip or Michael Cloud. They’re always looking for overtime work,” she said.

He nodded. “Sound choices. If they aren’t able to take the job, then come back to me and we’ll try to come up with some other
possibilities. She’s going to need round-the-clock protection until this is settled.”

Ella went to Dispatch to get a twenty on the Cloud brothers. “Are they out on patrol?”

“Yes. Shall I bring them in?”

“Not both. Just Officer Philip Cloud. I’ll brief Michael later.”

It took another twenty minutes for Philip to arrive, and during that time Ella worked hard to find a suitable safe house. She
needed someplace no one would ever think of looking for Boots. After rejecting a half dozen locations, a new idea formed in her mind. Ella made the arrangements from Justine’s office, then went to meet with Boots.

Ella had to give her credit. Boots looked far more composed than she would have been under similar circumstances.

“How long will I have to be in hiding?” she asked as Ella took a
seat behind her desk.

“I’m not sure,” Ella answered, “but my daughter needs you, so the second I think you’ll be safe, you’ll be back on the job,” she added with a comforting smile.

Another half hour passed before Ella was able to finalize the plans. Philip Cloud was briefed and given directions to the safe house, but before he could set out with Boots, Lena Clani arrived.

Ella heard her voice
down the hall at the same time Boots did. As they exchanged glances, Boots added, “I should have realized she’d come to the station.”

Lena burst into Ella’s office moments later. She gave Boots a loving, gentle smile, then glared at Ella.

“Who will be keeping my granddaughter safe?”

“My relatives,” Ella answered, knowing that it was the only answer Lena would accept. The Cloud brothers were
Herman’s nephews and, sooner or later, Lena would undoubtedly find out they’d been chosen for the job.

Philip came in just then and, as Boots went off with him, Lena turned to Ella, her gaze hard again. “This is about Caleb Frank…Lujan now, right?”

It took Ella a beat to process what Lena had said. It was no secret that Lena was well connected, but the way she managed to keep up with their police
investigation was deeply unsettling. “Who leaked you that information?” she demanded.

Lena simply stared at her. “This is the reservation, not one of your
bilagáana
police departments.”

“This is a strange time to be criticizing the police department, considering that an officer was the source of your information—information the Fierce Ones were
unable
to give you, by the way. Knowing you were
able to get one of our officers to violate a trust doesn’t impress me—it just lowers my opinion of you. You’ve already behaved shamefully, nearly costing a man his life just a few days ago. Who else have you told about Caleb? Don’t you realize how sensitive this case is? Do you want him to get away, then come back and strike next year or the year after that when our guard is down?” Ella argued,
tired of Lena’s meddling and afraid of the price it would ultimately exact.

Lena’s jaw dropped, not used to having people stand up to her. Suddenly she looked tired and ancient.

“Have
you
seen Caleb Lujan?” Ella asked, hoping she’d finally managed to drive some sense into her.

“No, but I’ve contacted some friends, and they’re looking for him.”

“The Fierce Ones?” Ella asked, her gut tightening.
Vigilante groups, no matter how well meaning, always left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Just know that you’ll have help—people who can go down avenues you can’t.”

“Or who’ll make it possible for him to slip through our grasp. Amateurs and professionals don’t mix.” She was about to say more when Lena continued.

“I have some other news for you. The white man who owns the diner was there on the night
my daughter was killed. A local truck driver saw the white man’s red Ford truck parked outside his diner around seven-thirty. He knows it was the owner’s, because it’s got a small dent on one fender—one that the truck driver’s kid accidentally put there.”

“Who’s this witness?” Ella asked quickly.

“He’ll be coming here this morning to make his statement,” Lena replied.

“Is Brewster being watched
by the Fierce Ones?” Ella pressed her.

“They’re keeping an eye on things for the police,” Lena said, sidestepping the question. “But you’ll be the first to know if they learn anything.”

“I know you think they’re helping us, but to stand up in a court of law, evidence has to be gathered in a certain way. If we don’t follow certain procedures, your daughter’s killer could walk. It’s not enough
to
know
. We also have to
prove
it.”