Black Thunder (11 page)

“Wait—call on me to do what?” Curley said. “I’ve told you everything I know. If you think you can pin those murders on me, you’re nuts.”

Tallman cleared his throat, caught Curley’s eye, and shook his
head. “No one will pin anything on you. Please relax.”

Something about his tone made Curley grow silent.

“May we have a word?” Tallman said, looking at Ella, then headed out the door without waiting for an answer.

Ella and Dan followed the lawyer into the hall.

Tallman waited for the door behind them to close before speaking. “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again, Investigator Clah. You may
be interested to know that I’ll be working for the prosecution in the near future. We’ll be on the same team then.”

“Now there’s something I never expected to hear, Mr. Tallman,” she said, surprised. “You could earn a lot more in private practice, particularly off the Rez. I always figured that would be your next step.”

“That was part of my original career plan, but the tribe paid for my college,
and I’m needed here.”

As Tallman walked away, Ella tried to process the news. He’d be one heckuva prosecutor. Before she could give it any additional thought, her phone vibrated and she picked it up. Carolyn’s voice greeted her.

“I’ve got a few more things for you, but I won’t have time to fill out the official report anytime soon. Do you want to head over here or talk on the phone?”

Ella considered
the phone, but the chances of being overheard here with the press lurking around every corner were better than average. “I’ll come over.”

After hanging up, she looked at Nez. “Dr. Roanhorse has some more information for us. Why don’t you come with me so you can hear everything firsthand.”

“Better not. I have a long list of people to interview,” he said quickly. “You can catch me up to speed
later by phone.”

Ella watched him go, suspecting that, like many other Navajos, he wanted to avoid the morgue. She’d never been to Leupp, where Dan grew up, but she’d heard there were a lot of Traditionalists in that corner of the Rez. The influence would have been strong.

Blalock, who’d been coming down the hall, joined her. “Did I overhear you right? Dr. Roanhorse has information?”

“Yeah,
you want to come along?”

“You bet.”

“You might want to hold up on that,” Justine said, hurrying down the hall toward them.

“What’s up?” Ella asked quickly.

“The Bitsillies spent the night at their relative’s house, but they’re now leaving, according to Marianna. When she arrived to take over the protective detail, she saw them loading up their car again.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Ella asked.

“She’s not sure. All Lois would say is that she knows what’s best for her kids.”

“I was planning to interview them again this morning and see if I can coax the boy into talking. We have to find out why he was targeted. Unless they’re in immediate danger, have Marianna keep them there until we arrive.”

Justine brought out her cell phone and stepped away to make the call.

Blalock looked at Ella.
“Go take care of that. I’ll meet you over at the morgue later.”

EIGHT

With Justine at the wheel, Ella was soon on the way to see the Bitsillies. The uncle’s home was along the east side of the river past the old downtown area. “What else do we know about Lois Bitsillie and her children? Anything about the father?” Ella asked. “I haven’t had time to do a background check.”

“I took care of that for you. The husband worked construction, but was killed in an
on-the-job accident near Bloomfield about eighteen months ago. Lois and the kids lived in Kirtland, off the Rez, got behind on their house payments, and were evicted. Since then, they’ve been run off a few other places for vagrancy, but she’s stayed in the area and kept the kids in the same schools. Lois makes minimum wage at the fast-food place. She wants to work full time, but the company’s policy
is to limit everyone to under forty hours a week so they can avoid paying benefits.”

“At least they’re still together,” Ella said, thinking of her own family and how lucky they all were to have each other.

Soon they arrived at a wood-and-stucco frame home, a pale green building with curling asphalt shingles that needed work. Ella spotted Lois Bitsillie and her two children right away. They were
standing beside their red Ford sedan. Marianna Talk, in the tribal department’s tan uniform, was a few feet away, next to her patrol unit, which was blocking the road.

“Keep an eye on the family,” Ella told Justine as they stepped out of the SUV.

Ella went to speak to the young patrol officer. “What’s the problem, Marianna? Mrs. Bitsillie said there might be a problem with the landlord.”

“That’s
not a problem. Lois is worried the killer will track her son here since the uncle is also named Bitsillie. A male cousin volunteered to take them in for a while after Lois called and told him what’s going on. The cousin lives in Farmington and has a different last name. Mrs. Bitsillie’s convinced they’ll be harder to find there.”

“She was ready to stay here, and now all of a sudden she’s changed
her mind? What’s really going on?” Ella asked.

“I asked her, but she wouldn’t say. It’s clear that the shooting really frightened her. She’s determined to do whatever it takes to keep her kids safe,” Marianna said. “I ran a background on the cousin before you got here, figuring you’d need it. He’s legit.”

“For this to happen, I’ll have to check with the Farmington Police and see if they can
keep an eye on them.”

“Understood,” Marianna said.

Ella walked over to join the family. “Good morning, Lois, Belara, Del.”

“Are you feeling better?” Lois asked her.

“You were
shot
!” Del said, his eyes huge.

“Yes, twice, and that’s why officers wear vests, to keep us safe,” Ella said with a gentle smile. “Today I’m a little sore and bruised, but that’s it.”

“How big were the bullets?” Del
asked.

“Son, that’s
not
nice,” Lois said, shaking her head at Del.

Ella took advantage of the question, reached into her pocket, and brought out a spare, loaded magazine. She slipped out a nine-millimeter cartridge and placed it into her palm, holding it out for them to see. “They were just like this one.”

“Wow. Just like on TV,” he said, clearly impressed.

“You can hold it for a moment, Del.”
Ella placed the round into his hand.

“It’s kinda heavy,” he said, staring down at the cartridge.

“Del, I need your help to catch the man who tried to shoot us. Something bad happened over by the reservation fence line, and we need to know if you’ve seen or heard anything unusual going on near there. We know you like to play around in that area. If you can help us, we’ll make sure that person
can never hurt anyone again.”

“It wasn’t just me…” The boy’s voice trailed off, and he stared at the ground. His sister, Belara, shifted nervously, and looked away from Ella.

“Neither one of you are in any trouble,” Ella said.

“You say that,” Belara said, “but if we talk to you, how do we know we’ll be safe from … you know.”

“We protected you once and we’ll continue to do that,” Ella said.
“Officer Talk and others have been watching over you since yesterday.”

“Being afraid isn’t something you can run away from easily,” Justine said softly. “Sometimes the only way to beat it is to face things head-on.”

“Tell her what you told me earlier,” Lois said, looking at her kids and giving them an encouraging nod. “She needs to know.”

Ella looked back at the kids and waited. She’d had a
feeling the sudden move had been prompted by something.

As Belara looked at Ella, her hand fisted into the fabric of her loose top. “Del went where he wasn’t supposed to! Mom told us to stay inside until her shift was over.”

“It wasn’t just
my
fault! You went, too,” he said.

“Yeah, but you started it. I just followed—to bring you back before Mom got home.”

“Slow down,” Ella said, looking at
both of them. “Start at the beginning.”

Del glanced at his mom, and seeing her nod, spoke. “I like to take my Jeeps and stuff over there to play in the sand. I set my soldiers up in foxholes, then blow them up with gravel and clods. I was just messing around. Belara came looking for me, I guess.”

“You’re not supposed to be that far away when it’s dark outside,” Belara said.

“The moon was really
bright. I could see, and finally it wasn’t so hot outside.”

“So what happened that frightened you?” Ella asked, getting them back on track.

Del kicked the sand with his shoe, building up his courage as he spoke. “I was setting up my soldiers and Jeep again after knocking them down when I saw my sister looking for me. She didn’t know where I was, so I decide to circle around and scare her. I
was sneaking along that trail beside the fence when a car came right at me. I don’t think the guy saw me at first because he had his headlights off.”

“I
heard
the car, but I was coming from a different direction and couldn’t really see it through the brush,” Belara said before Ella could ask Del for more details. “I thought it might be some pervert, so I looked around for a stick or a rock.”

Del nodded. “I ducked back off the trail against a bush, but the car came straight down the trail and almost ran me over. He must have seen me at the last minute, because he suddenly slammed on the brakes.

“I hid in the bushes,” Del continued after taking a breath. “The driver had one of those spotlights, like the police do. He aimed it around, but I was lying flat on my stomach and he never saw
me. After a while he turned off that light and backed out onto the highway. Then he took off. When he got to the main highway he turned on his headlights and drove toward Kirtland. I was running back when I caught up to Belara.”

“I found
you
, and we went home,” she argued.

“They didn’t tell me about this until last night, and it scared me silly,” Lois said. “Why would anyone be driving a car
around there at night with its lights off? To me, it sounded like drug dealers.”

Ella looked back at Del. “Were you able to see the driver at all?”

He shook his head. “I was too busy trying to get away.”

“Maybe you saw his license plate when he drove off? Do you remember what color it was?”

He thought about it a moment, then nodded. “It was from New Mexico—yellow with red numbers and letters.”

“Do you remember any of those numbers or letters?” Ella prodded gently. “Try to picture it in your mind.”

“I remember it had a D. Like with Del.”

“Any numbers?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry.”

Ella looked at Belara. “How about you?”

The girl shook her head. “When he turned on that searchlight thing all I was looking at was my idiot brother. The guy would have run him over if Del hadn’t taken
cover in the brush, I’m sure of it.”

“What makes you think it was a guy?” Ella pressed.

Belara paused. “It was the kind of car guys drive … hot engine, squealing tires.”

“What kind of car was it?” Ella asked.

“It was white, maybe cream-colored, kind of like one of those sheriff’s department cars, except without the gold star on the side and the flashing lights on top.”

“Is there anything
else you might remember that might help me identify whoever was driving that car?”

Belara shook her head, and Del looked off into the distance.

Ella allowed the silence to stretch.

“He was a big man. His head was almost to the roof of the car,” Del said at last. “As soon as he took off, I ran and didn’t stop until Belara grabbed me over by that old dead-guy house.”

“Did you leave anything
else behind besides your soldiers and that toy Jeep?” Ella asked.

“Yeah, my dice, and an old doll head I stuck in the ground, like a monster attacking my squad,” Del said. “I don’t play with dolls, but can I have my other stuff back?”

“Probably later. Right now, it’s evidence,” Ella said, then turned to Lois. “Give me a minute to make sure the Farmington P.D. has officers who can watch your
cousin’s house while you’re there.”

Ella brought out her cell phone and walked away to keep her conversation private.

Five minutes later, she got a return call from Blalock. “It’s all set. The Farmington P.D. has agreed to handle it.”

Shortly thereafter, Lois and her children set out, heading east toward Farmington. Officer Marianna Talk followed several car lengths behind.

Justine walked
back to the SUV with Ella. “Where to, boss?”

“The morgue. Blalock’s meeting me there. Carolyn’s got something new for us.”

“So you want me to drop you off?”

Ella caught the hopeful lilt in Justine’s voice. Her partner would do what was necessary, but a visit to the morgue required a strong stomach. Even if you didn’t believe in the
chindi
—and Justine, a Christian, did not—a corpse’s grayish
pallor, or seeing what had once been a human being cut open on a table, could give anyone pause. She remembered her first time there. A burn victim had been brought in and the overpowering scent of something resembling pork rinds had almost made her throw up on the spot.

No one who’d ever seen a lifeless body in that state could doubt that a human being was more than the sum of his biological
parts. Navajos believed in a “wind spirit” that defined each person, giving them life. Justine’s faith termed it a soul, but no matter how you looked at it, a person had little in common with the shell it eventually left behind.

“I know I’m being a wuss, partner,” Justine said quietly after a moment. “But it’s not the bodies that get to me. It’s the smell … like bad meat and disinfectant. Scents
that come from nature don’t bother me, not even a hog pen or a skunk. Mind you, that last one’s the kind I’d rather avoid, but it’s not … offensive … to me. When I go into the morgue, it’s different. The scents there make me think of the word
natzee
, or maybe
niłtcxon
, something that’s spoiled.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It just makes me want to run out of there as fast as I can.”