Bad Medicine (31 page)

As a breeze blew against her, she felt a chill and realized her body was bathed in sweat. Something was wrong, very wrong. She tried to analyze everything. She could see no driver or passengers. It was possible they’d jumped out and were hiding in a nearby gully. With the dry, hard-packed
ground, it would be difficult to track them, and there were thousands of places in the surrounding desert they could use to conceal an ambush. She glanced around, searching for anything that would give her some answers.

“We can’t just sit around forever,” Justine said, using the radio.

Ella picked up her mike. “I know. Give me a minute to put on my kevlar vest. You do the same. Then order them
to come out with their hands up. If they don’t respond, we’ll move in. You’ll cover me, but be alert to an ambush from behind cover.”

She heard Justine blare the order. Five minutes later, there was still no sign of movement in or around the van. Gun in hand, Ella circled around, planning to approach from the rear. With no back facing windows, anyone inside could only use the outside mirrors
to keep watch. Her skin felt as if electric currents were traveling over it, not painful, but pushing her nerves to the very edge of awareness. She listened and watched as she crept forward, but the van looked deserted.

Ella saw Justine come out from cover briefly, shotgun in hand, to protect her from anyone trying to exit the van. Ella continued, placing herself so she couldn’t see either of
the van’s side mirrors. That meant they couldn’t see her either. She was about ten yards away, when she decided to halt and wait for a moment. Suddenly the van blew apart, and a hot wall of air hurled her to the ground with a wicked thump. The air shrieked as bits of metal flew overhead in every direction.

Ella felt as if a wrecking ball had slammed against her. Struggling to catch her breath,
she remained prone, turning onto her belly to search behind her for Justine.

Her assistant was rising to her knees slowly, looking around for her shotgun, slightly dazed. “Whoa. Never done that before.”

“At least we’re both in one piece,” Ella said, moving toward Justine to verify she was unharmed.

“Yeah, but I hurt all over, and I can barely hear you. What a noise.”

“Same here.”

They walked
around the burning van. Flames shot out the holes where the windows used to be. The back doors had been blown clean off, and one lay about ten feet from where Ella had been knocked off her feet. It was smoking like a hot coal.

“I’ll call to get Sam Pete out here. I want an expert opinion on this explosion. He can search the scene for bomb parts and whatever clues are left.” Sam Pete was a distant
relation of Billy Pete’s, and he was also their entire bomb squad. “I want you to work with him on this,” Ella said.

“No problem.” Justine reached for her notebook and saw her right sleeve dripping with blood. “Uh-oh. I sprung a leak.”

Justine pulled her tattered sleeve, exposing several small wounds oozing blood. Cubical pieces of glass had peppered her upper arm like shotgun pellets. “It’s
nothing. I caught a little flying glass, that’s all. Lots of little cuts, which hurt like hell, but I’ll live.”

Unclipping the two-way radio from her belt, Ella called in the incident and added a 10-83, an officer-needs-help call. After hearing that the medical team would be unable to reach them for at least a half hour, Ella motioned to her car. “Come on. I’m taking you in. We’re only twenty
minutes away from the Medical Center. Fifteen, the way I drive.”

As Ella raced down the highway, she spoke with Sam Pete about the bombing and arranged for him, Tache, and Ute to secure the site. “I want to know what kind of explosives were used, where the bomber got them, and how they were detonated. And I want the information yesterday.”

“So what’s new?” Sam answered. “I’ll do my best.”

Ella parked by the ER doors, and hurried inside with her young assistant. Dr. Natoni met them and led Justine away. Before Justine was even out of the room, Ella’s cellular began to ring. Ella opened it up, wondering when she was going to have time to take a deep breath.

“I got the news on the notes.” Ella recognized Blalock’s staccatostyle reporting. “Nothing conclusive. The notes could have
been written by a skilled forger, or Randall himself. The ink is from an ordinary ballpoint you can buy anywhere, same with the paper. One thing is certain. Since it has to be a forgery, we know the person who wrote it must have studied Randall’s handwriting for a long time. Also, it’s clear the person knows you, too.

“Now for another tip,” he continued. “I learned that Noah Charley spent the
night in the Holbrook, Arizona, jail on a disorderly conduct charge, and was released the day after he was reported missing here. It just showed up on my computer. I’ve put out a request to all law enforcement agencies in that area to detain Charley if anyone sees him.”

“Thanks. Now let me update you.” Ella told him about the explosion.

“Any idea who’s responsible?”

“It’s too soon, but I’ve
sent our people to look over the van. I’ll let you know more as soon as they report in.”

Ella saw Justine as she walked out of the examining room. Her arm had been bandaged. She looked pale, but okay. “Hey, you need a ride home?”

“Uh-uh,” Justine shook her head. “If my mother sees you, there’s going to be trouble.”

“You think she’ll blame me because you got hurt?”

“She blamed you for my sprained
ankle,” Justine said, with a sheepish smile. “When I come in with this bandage, she’s going to hit the ceiling. Better if you’re not around. I’ll call one of my brothers to pick me up. I’ll be at work tomorrow, but I’m taking the rest of today off. Okay with you?”

“Take whatever time you need.”

“I had expected to go right back to work today. But I needed a couple of stitches and they gave me
a painkiller. Now, my mind really feels fuzzy.”

“Okay, then. I’ll get back to the station and report this mess to Big Ed. He’s going to want to know about this as quickly as possible.”

“There’s a report on your desk about that bottle of furosemide that you found in the trash downstairs. There were no prints on it whatsoever. It had been wiped clean.”

“Thanks.” That meant someone had added the
poison to Neskahi’s coffee at the hospital. She’d have to question Neskahi to find out who’d had the opportunity. Her cellular rang again. As she heard Big Ed’s voice, Ella gave Justine a weary smile. “I’m on my way in right now, Chief.”

*   *   *

Ella stopped by her office before going to see the boss. She hadn’t had a minute to even gather her thoughts, and to make matters even worse, she
hadn’t made it to her meeting with Billy Pete either. There was no telling how he’d take that, or when he’d reschedule. She wanted to question him about setting her up, too.

As she dropped into her seat, she saw an envelope from the state crime lab on the desk. Ella opened it and found the test results on the second set of fluid and tissue samples Carolyn had taken from Angelina’s body. The report
confirmed that the senator’s daughter had been under the influence of peyote, and that she’d died from jimsonweed poisoning. Carolyn’s findings were completely supported.

Angelina’s ability to maneuver the car safely while she was hallucinating or having seizures would have been minimal, at best. It was a wonder that she hadn’t died from a wreck before the poison had taken full effect.

Ella
suspected
that
had been the killer’s intent all along. In New Mexico, if a person died in an automobile accident, and physical trauma was extensive, an autopsy was not usually performed. If no one had witnessed Angelina’s erratic driving and if her injuries had been more pronounced, the murder would have probably gone down in the reports as just another highway fatality.

Ella took the report
with her into Big Ed’s office. He glanced up as she went in, then leaned back in his massive chair. “You’re a disaster area when it comes to tribal vehicles, Shorty.”

“My Jeep wasn’t damaged this time,” she protested, “though it still needs some paint touched up.”

“Yeah, well, the van that blew up was a tribal vehicle that had been reported stolen two days ago.”

“Anything on the source of the
explosives?”

“Sam Pete recovered traces of packaging material and explosive residue that indicated it’s the same type and brand of low explosives used by the mine—ammonium nitrate.”

“I figured things would lead there, sooner or later.”

“Have you got something for me, something tangible I can present to the politicians who are crawling all over this department?”

“Good news, and bad—I suppose.”
Ella told Big Ed about the state lab confirming Carolyn’s autopsy results, but also had to point out the poison in Neskahi’s coffee cup.

“But we still don’t have evidence to tie to a particular suspect.”

“I’m working on it, but I’m not going to insult your intelligence by making promises I can’t keep. I’m one man short, and that’s not making things any easier. Neskahi will be out for another
week, at least. And I can’t see him going back on this case and working long hours even after he reports back in.”

“I can’t spare any other officers right now. I’ve had to increase patrols around the mine, and I’ve got to keep my units as visible as possible.”

“I know.”

“And you haven’t heard the worst of it.” Big Ed rubbed his whiskerless chin. Like most Navajos, he didn’t have to worry about
five o’clock shadow. “The M.E. is under fire again.”

She felt her heart sink. “What now?”

“It seems that people have begun getting sick in droves after visits from Dr. Roanhorse and her medical team. Word is spreading like wildfire that the doctor carries the
chindi,
and that evil follows her. That poison in the coffee cup isn’t going to help change anybody’s mind either.”

EIGHTEEN

Ella was on her way to the hospital to talk to Carolyn personally when her cellular telephone rang. Annoyed with its incessant tone, she sighed, then answered it.

“This is me. I heard what happened.”

She recognized Billy Pete’s voice. “I’m sorry I missed our meeting. When can we reschedule?”

“How about right now? Same place.”

“I was on my way to the hospital, so I’m almost at the
cutoff. I can be there in fifteen minutes. But it’s past five. What if Kevin shows up?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I checked.”

Ella drove to the prearranged spot, watching carefully. She wasn’t sure Billy hadn’t set her up before so she was going to be extra cautious this time. She wanted to get whatever information Billy had for her if he really was being honest, but she was also
eager to talk to Carolyn. Ella was determined to find out once and for all what was at the root of the problem between the senator and her friend. It was time to get tough with her friend.

Ella slowed down as she turned up the dirt track that led to Tolino’s. As she drove up, Billy Pete came out from cover and stood by Kevin’s loafing shed, two cans in his hand.

She got out of the Jeep slowly,
and glanced around. It didn’t feel like a trap, but after all she’d been through, she decided a little caution could go a long ways.

“You were warned to stay out of it,” Billy said, coming to join her. “Now you see why. Here, have a soft drink.” He tossed her a can.

Ella caught it in midair. “What’s going on, Billy? Blowing up that tribal vehicle makes no sense.”

“Unless you’d gone up with
it.”

“Was that the intent? I wondered for a while if you had set me up, you know.”

“Why would I do that?” He shook his head. “We heard rumors that The Brotherhood wanted you sidelined, but we also knew that they couldn’t touch you. You’ve got ways of knowing things. Most Navajos around here have heard of your family’s skills.”

“In my case, it’s called cop training.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter
what you call it, does it? You’re okay, just like we knew you would be.”

She pulled back the lift tab, and leaned against a boulder. “Okay. So you guys figured I didn’t need a warning. What else is happening. Why
did
you call me?”

“We’ve got trouble. One of our Navajo drivers at the mine broke his leg working a green horse. That alone wouldn’t have mattered much, except that they replaced him
with an Anglo.”

“Why not a Navajo? Surely they had plenty of applicants for that job.”

“They did, but the mine people claim that Joe Bragg had his application on record for the longest time, and that he was qualified. They hired him. He’s been on the job only two days, and is already creating a ton of trouble. He’s siding with the Anglos, and holds to The Brotherhood’s party line that the tribe
shouldn’t give preferential treatment based on race for reservation jobs.”

Ella considered what he was saying. “You’re saying that Joe Bragg is a candidate for The Brotherhood, and our one lead to identifying the others?”

“Yes,
if
you can keep up with him. We’ve tried, but he’s lost us every time. He’s good, which makes us suspect he’s got some kind of training. Maybe he was in Special Forces
or something.”

“I’ll look into it.”

Billy glanced around. “You know, you’re lucky to have Tolino as a neighbor. Nobody will harm your place or your mom with him around.”

“Why do you say that? You mentioned he was well connected. What exactly did you mean?”

Billy looked incredulously at her. “You know Tolino is from the same clan as our Tribal President. He’s also one of the top defense attorneys
our tribe has, maybe the best. Nobody wants him as an enemy. Who knows when we’ll need him?”

“Is that all?” She had a feeling Billy was holding something back.

Billy frowned. “That’s all I know for sure.”

“Okay. What else do you suspect?”

He shook his head and walked to his truck. “Forget it, I’ve said enough. You don’t speculate when you’re talking about Kevin Tolino.”

Ella wasn’t sure what
to make of Tolino now. Instinct told her that anything that would deter troublemakers was a plus. But the question Billy Pete had raised preyed on her mind.