Bad Medicine (12 page)

“Ah.” He walked back in and sat down on a sheepskin on the left, or southern side, of the center where a warm fire was going in the fire pit.

Ella entered, but according to tradition, went to the right, across from him and the fire, and on the north side.

As she retrieved another sheepskin from the ones folded and stacked on a low wooden table, she glanced around. The peeled pine logs above her had been carefully arranged at angles to form the strong-looking roof, and the joints between the logs had been carefully sealed with mud. Out
of respect for the Holy People who had built the first hogans, Clifford had placed small pieces of abalone, turquoise, and obsidian in several places along the walls.

Ella sat down and turned to her brother. “What have you heard about that new splinter group of the Native American Church, the one they call the Navajo Justice Church?”

“What is it you want to know? I have very little to do with
them or the NAC, as I’m sure you realize. I follow the Navajo Way.”

“Can you tell me what part peyote plays in their rituals?”

“In the NAC, peyote is considered a sacrament. They claim the white man has the Bible to learn about God, and they have peyote, which induces visions to help them grow in wisdom. The church stresses family values, harmony and peace, and the avoidance of alcohol. I’ve
heard the splinter group, the Navajo Justice Church, is radically different. They embrace the use of violence and use peyote to induce visions that may show them how to defeat their enemies.”

“And jimsonweed?”

“
Nobody
experiments with that. Jimsonweed, the many-flowered four-o’clock, is like most of the poisonous plants. It has a counterpart that restores health if used in time. Without the
antidote used by our people for generations, you’d get very sick, and could very likely end up dead. But why are you asking me these things?”

“Confidentially?” She saw him nod, then continued. “The senator’s daughter had ingested peyote buttons and a lethal dose of ground-up jimsonweed before her accident. The M.E. also discovered traces of peyote in the dead miner’s body. He’s a member of the
splinter church, but the senator’s daughter is not, as far as we can tell. I’m looking for possible connections.”

He appeared to weigh the matter. “What doesn’t make sense is why anyone would deliberately swallow jimsonweed. Many of our people have been taught which herbs are dangerous and know enough to avoid them. But you said that jimsonweed was ground up before it was eaten by the senator’s
daughter?”

Ella nodded. “There are only two options: suicide or murder. And suicide doesn’t fit in with the facts we have so far.”

Clifford walked to a line of jars near the west wall, reached inside, and filled a small beaded pouch. “This is the antidote to jimsonweed, should you ever need it. And be careful what you eat or drink. The signs of jimsonweed poisoning range from headaches and thirst
to drowsiness and convulsions. Eventually you go into a coma.”

Ella nodded, taking the pouch and placing it carefully in her jacket pocket. “Thanks, brother.”

“Once a person starts showing major symptoms of jimsonweed poisoning, it’s probably too late. The best time to take the antidote is as soon after ingesting the poison as possible.” He sat down again and regarded her thoughtfully for a
long time. “We’re starting another cycle of sorrows and, as usual, our enemies are staying well behind the scenes.”

“As a cop, it’s my job to find the ones responsible for creating trouble. I’ll put things back on track soon. Count on it.”

There’ll still be problems, ones you won’t be able to fix.” He shook his head. “The
Dineh’s
children are caught between cultures: searching for an identity
and looking everywhere except in the right direction. The gangs are getting stronger with each passing day. They, too, use drugs, but without reason and without regard to others or themselves.”

“One step at a time, big brother. First, I have to find whoever is behind the two deaths we already have. That’s what the tribe pays me to do. The unrest at the mine is an additional concern and may be
connected to the murders. I don’t know yet. That company’s presence on our land has always caused trouble, only the form it takes changes. And as far as the gangs go, that’s a problem that may be here to stay. We have to accept that some kids may turn away from our ways forever.”

“They are our future.”

“It’s their right to follow a path of their own choosing.”

“Sometimes I look at my son and
wonder what legacy he’ll inherit.”

“The
Dineh
won’t disappear, and neither will our ways. We’ve endured too long and come too far for that.”

“I hope you’re right.” He leaned forward. “Do you still wear the fetish I gave you?”

Ella pulled out the leather cord, bringing the stone badger out from inside her shirt.

He smiled and nodded. “I’m glad. It may be the only protection you can count on.”

Ella felt a chill seeping through her skin, and piercing her bones.

“I can say a blessing over you, if you’d like.”

Ella nodded.

Clifford took a pinch of pollen from a pouch at his waist, touched the tip of his tongue, the top of his head, and Ella’s, then threw it toward the heavens, invoking the gods.

“Keep your wits about you,” he said, at last. “And don’t forget that there is more to life
than what you see with your eyes. When you discount everything you don’t understand by labeling it as superstition, you stop being aware of an enemy who can destroy you.”

Ella left her brother’s hogan more disturbed than ever. Once again, she felt torn between the old ways and the new. She envied the way Clifford’s staunch beliefs helped him face dangers with assuredness.

Ella then felt the
weight of her pistol and the bulge in her back pocket where she kept her badge when it wasn’t displayed. These were the things that defined her and gave her purpose. The old ways had power, she wouldn’t discount them, but neither could she adhere solely to them. The truth was, she was a blend of the old and the new, and that was where her strength lay.

By the time she arrived at her mother’s
house it was very late. The house was encased in darkness. Ella went inside quietly, left a note informing her mother that Justine would be joining them for breakfast, and went to her room. Only Two, lying in the hall outside her mother’s door, acknowledged Ella’s presence.

Tired, but too keyed up to sleep, she began her nightly ritual, answering the few posts she’d received on E-Mail, then switching
over to her never-ending game of solitaire. Maybe someday those cards would align right, but then again, that victory would only mean the start of another round.

SEVEN

Ella was at the breakfast table, reading the last of the article on Senator Yellowhair. Justine read the story over her shoulder while taking bites out of a piece of fry bread she’d loaded with honey and butter. Ella could hear her chewing, and the irritating sound was getting on her nerves. “The way you eat, you should weigh about nine hundred pounds,” Ella said through clenched teeth.

“I’m on a special diet,” Justine said. “I eat only what tastes good. But then I jog until I’m ready to drop.”

Ella remembered a time when she’d done the same thing. Lately, she hadn’t done much jogging, and her favorite slacks were feeling as if they’d shrunk. She took a deep breath then let it out. Maybe it was time to diet. Then she saw the plate filled with fresh tortillas and eggs with chile
that her mother was bringing over. The diet would wait until lunch.

“I can’t believe the senator. He blames everyone but his own seedy self,” Justine said.

Rose glanced at the article after setting the plates down. “That public apology of his doesn’t amount to much. He says he met with the elders of his clan in his uncle’s hogan and has promised to address his problems with his wife. Well, if
he really did do that, you can bet it was only because he thought it would sound good to the tribe. And I don’t believe his claim that his wife has forgiven him and harmony has been restored in his household. That statement has enough fertilizer in it to feed my herb garden for ten years.”

“My guess is he got his wife to agree to that statement so he could save his own butt,” Ella answered, wolfing
down the still-warm tortilla. She glanced at Justine. “What we need to find out is how our people finally managed to find him. Who gave us the tip? And how did his wife find out where he was? I have a feeling those answers will give us more information than anything written here.”

Rose studied the two women as they ate then shook her head sadly. “I’m going outside to work on my garden. I’ll leave
you two to discuss crime fighting.”

Justine smiled as Rose walked out slowly. “I don’t think she’ll ever understand why we love police work.”

“I think on some level she does, but since it’s not the road she would have chosen for me, she rails against it, hoping somehow I’ll change my mind,” Ella said.

Justine nodded. “My mother is like that, too, at times. But she has plenty of grandchildren
so it’s not quite the same thing.”

“Continuity and family have always been part of everything the
Dineh
are. At least my mother has Julian now, though. Having a grandchild is important to her.”

Ella stood up and rinsed off her plate. “But enough of that. I’ve got another lead we need to look into: Kevin Tolino. He was a good friend of Bitah’s. I want a complete background check on him.”

“I
know Kevin. Like you, he left the Rez for several years. But now he’s back, working for the tribe. If anyone finds out I’m checking up on him, though, the fur’s gonna fly. He’s from the Towering House clan, the same as our tribal president.”

“Go for it anyway, Justine. We need to get an inside track into the activities of the Navajos involved with the problems at the mine. I also want you to
find out all you can about this splinter group of the NAC that Bitah founded. Maybe Tolino, being a friend of Bitah’s, knows something about that.”

“I could go undercover. With luck, I might even be able to join the church.”

“No. I don’t want you undercover. Any cover story we could concoct wouldn’t be enough, not with these guys. Remember how they set me up to issue their warning? Be careful
and watch yourself at all times.”

“Late yesterday I finally received that complete list of employees from the mine. There are a few more names I recognized. I can follow up on those. And the report on Frank Smith also came in. He’s the Anglo that Bitah had problems with,” she reminded Ella.

“Yes, the man Bitah suspected of trying to stir up trouble among the Navajo workers. What did you find
out?”

“Not much. I spoke to several people about Smith. Everyone knew about the problems Bitah claimed Smith had engineered, but nobody had any proof. Nobody trusted Smith, but I’ve got the feeling it was mostly innuendo that condemned him.”

She thought of the distrust she and Carolyn faced every day. “It’s easy to condemn when you don’t have to prove your allegations.”

Ella walked outside
with Justine and waited on the porch as her assistant waved to Rose, then drove away. She’d done the right thing sending Justine to talk to the miners. Had she gone herself, it would have been an uphill battle to win people’s trust and get the answers she needed. Among the Navajos there were many who still considered her an outsider and would not open up to her.

Ella said good-bye to Rose then
drove to her office. The problem was her actions spoke for her. She was a cop and, to her, breaking the law demanded the same penalty from a Navajo as it would an Anglo. She was as likely to arrest a member of the tribe for fighting The Brotherhood and breaking the law, as she was to arrest one of the members of The Brotherhood. That fact would not gain the sympathy of any member of either faction
or persuade anyone to become her informant. Justine had a more disarming personality and had not acquired that hard edge that Ella possessed after years with the Bureau.

Ella arrived at her office, resigned to working there for a while. She didn’t like the tedium of paperwork, but there was no choice. She needed to plough through the reports to get the facts she needed. First, she assessed the
report that had just come in on Frank Smith. The man had been honorably discharged from the navy after serving on a construction battalion as a heavy equipment operator. He had no criminal record. Bitah’s allegations didn’t fit in with the hard-working, churchgoer profile they had on this man, but stranger things had happened.

Just as Ella stood up to get some coffee, her intercom buzzed and
she was summoned to see Big Ed. Trying not to feel like a kid being called to the principal’s office, she went down the hall, knocked on the open door, then walked in.

“I got a call from Senator Yellowhair,” he said. “He’s accusing you of trying to ruin his reputation. He said you’re looking into his personal files and violating his daughter’s privacy, searching for a way to embarrass him.”

“He’s getting worried because what I’m finding is a good enough reason to keep digging.” She recounted what she’d discovered about the peyote and jimsonweed that had killed Angelina, and Bitah’s connection to the offshoot of the NAC that used peyote in its rituals. She also told him about the shares of the mine she’d found were controlled by the company listed under Angelina’s name.

“Does the
senator know that you have all this?”

“Not yet. I have an appointment to talk to him about the case this morning in the hope that I can get him to back off and let us do our job. But I plan to hold back any mention of the power plant and mining shares for now. Revealing that might cause him to clam up and send in a raiding party of lawyers. Holding a few things back now will give us an edge later
on.

“Sounds like a good plan, but tread carefully. I don’t want to have to spend the next week defending you and the department while there’s important work to be done.”

Ella left the building and headed out to the senator’s house. She wasn’t sure exactly how to approach the situation in order to get the best results. Her goal was simple enough, however. First, she needed to learn everything
she could about Angelina, then try to uncover whether any connection existed between the girl and Bitah.