Mourning Dove (24 page)

Ella muttered a short explicit curse under her breath, then started the engine. If Herman ever got into an argument with Rose, she’d reduce him to cinders with just a few soft-spoken words.

Come to think of it, Ella had never heard Herman arguing with her mother. Maybe he’d found it easier just to keep his mouth shut. Too bad she’d never been able to do that.

As she drove north toward Shiprock
and the station, Ella pushed her problems with Dawn into a corner of her mind, while the case and its ramifications came to the forefront of her thoughts. Sometimes she felt like two separate people—the cop her mother had described to near perfection—afraid to show weakness, or to even admit that she had any—and the mom who was ruled by the fear that she’d botch the most important job of all.

Reaching for her cell phone, she concentrated on the task at hand. “Justine, I’m on my way. Have you gotten anything useful from our visitor?”

“I tried to make small talk, hoping he’d relax a bit, but he’s not exactly friendly. He’s . . . self-contained. He’s sitting in your office right now, and, Ella, he’s so still he could pass for a statue. I’ve got a feeling his mind is a million miles away.
I offered him a cup of coffee, but he declined.”

“I’m surprised he came to us at all—some of these guys would have kept a low profile and investigated on their own.”

Several minutes later, Ella walked into her office and introduced herself to one of the most imposing men she’d ever met. Dressed in a casual-looking sports jacket, slacks, and no tie, her visitor was at least six foot five and
built like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his early bodybuilding years. In deference to the big Anglo with short, blond hair and intense gray eyes, she shook hands, her hand engulfed by his. “Have a seat . . .” she said.

“Chief Warrant Officer Neil Carson, ma’am.” Almost automatically, he answered her unspoken question. “We operate in civilian clothes, but we’re FBI-trained investigators.”

“Then we
have something in common,” Ella said. “I was an FBI agent for a half dozen years.” His gaze was flat—she’d seen that in the military men she’d dealt with lately, even those who were back in civilian roles.

“You made inquiries concerning the possibility of missing supplies or thefts from Specialist Blacksheep’s company,” Carson said, getting right down to business. “But you weren’t specific. Exactly
what are you looking for?”

Ella leaned back in her chair and considered her answer carefully. She could have told him about the half-completed story Jimmy had sent her full of clues concerning his recent military experiences, but that begged the question—why hadn’t Jimmy turned the matter over to the CID in the first place, or at
least his commanding officer? If he hadn’t trusted the military,
then perhaps she shouldn’t either.

“Are you aware of how Jimmy Blacksheep died?” she asked and when he nodded, added, “What we’re still looking for is a motive that makes sense.”

“I’ve spoken to his brother, Samuel, and I’ve learned about the carjackings—and the inconsistencies that suggest his death was not a botched robbery.”

“There are a lot of inconsistences, like why the victim would get
into a firefight over a rental car,” she said. “I believe we’re missing something important.”

Carson smiled slowly. “You’ve redirected my attention, but you haven’t answered my question. What do you think was stolen from us and what connection does that have to Specialist Black-sheep’s death?”

Ella regarded Carson speculatively. The man had a sharp mind—something that would serve an investigator
well. “Look, here’s the bottom line. I’ve got one dead former soldier who refused to hand over his rental car—for no apparent reason. I’ve also spoken to some other soldiers in his unit, and I’ve noticed them carrying souvenirs of one kind or another,” she said, overstating it to gauge his reaction. Point of fact was that she’d only noticed one ex-soldier with a souvenir—of sorts. “That led me
to believe there might have been other, more substantial items taken.”

“What kind of souvenirs did you see in the men’s possession?”

“Nothing dramatic—a piece of Iraqi military ammo, that kind of thing. But I’m considering the possibility that maybe it didn’t stop there. Rifles, pistols, money, gold, jewelry . . . maybe more. What do you think?”

“No way. If there’d been anything going on that
involved more than one or two soldiers taking a knife or pistol as a souvenir, there would have been an investigation months ago. I’ve
interviewed the unit commander, and his second in command, and they would have heard about it for sure. The reason I’m investigating this unit is because two of their soldiers died under suspicious noncombat circumstances at their Iraqi base. It’s possible that
others in that unit were responsible, and for that reason, my superiors have assigned me to look into the matter.”

“Just to clarify—you do mean people in Jimmy Blacksheep’s unit?” Ella asked.

“Yes, his National Guard company and his platoon in particular. But I don’t have proof one way or another at this point. That’s why I’m here. I’ve been in the area since yesterday, questioning soldiers
from his unit, trying to find out what happened to the two men who died. And now that another soldier from that unit has also died under suspicious circumstances, I’m expanding my investigation, searching for any possible connection to the first two deaths.”

Ella remembered Jimmy’s story and the segment about two men disappearing after “falling out of favor” with the Dark Ones. Maybe this was
the first solid connection between the story and real events. If only they could break more of the code.

“What were the names of the victims?” Ella asked.

“Jonathan Parks and Micah Hawkins.”

She’d hoped to hear names that sounded like Konik and Bula, but that hadn’t happened. “I wish I could tell you why Jimmy Blacksheep was murdered, but the truth is I don’t know. Not yet.”

“Who are your
suspects? Other members of his section?”

“Among a few others. Tell me, Chief Carson, what’s your theory? Something tells me you’ve got one,” Ella added.

“Just call me Carson. Officially, I’m not at liberty to share that information with you at this time. But unofficially . . . ?” he added, then seeing her nod, continued. “Unless we work fast, we may never find out what’s going on.”

“How so?”

“Earlier today, I was notified that some of the units involved
in the rotation overseas have been reassigned or reactivated due to training and equipment problems. There are shortages in manpower, so that means that the members of Blacksheep’s National Guard company are going to be recalled soon, even those whose enlistments are up. They won’t be going back into a war zone, but they’ll be sent
to Germany to replace another transportation unit being transferred to Afghanistan. It’ll be a six-month deployment this time. The soldiers will receive official notices soon, maybe within a day or two, and will have to report in a couple of weeks.”

Ella pursed her lips, the implication sinking in. It explained why Carson, who’d obviously been working his own case here for at least a day, had
finally showed up at the station. “So what you’re telling me is that if I need to conduct any interviews, I’d better do it fast. A big chunk of my suspect list is going to be out of the country this time next month?”

“That’s the way it shapes up, yes, ma’am,” he answered, then stood. “I’ll be staying at the Thunder Inn on Farmington’s west side if you need me,” he said, giving her his card. “I’ll
keep in touch.”

Ella watched him go, deep in thought. So now the pressure was really on—not only at home, but here at work as well. She needed a clone—or a miracle.

E
lla was quiet as they drove east on I-40, headed toward a state police facility in Albuquerque’s northeast heights. The three-hour drive, including a quick stop to pick up hamburgers and sodas, had given her plenty of time to think while Justine drove. The new deadline for military personnel was bearing down on her. She couldn’t afford to keep going in circles.

“I’m your partner, you know. Something’s bugging you, and has been for the past two hundred miles. What are you waiting for, talk to me,” Justine said.

Ella smiled. It wasn’t a surprise that Justine could read her so easily. For many years they’d been close as partners, friends, and second cousins. “I feel like I’m under siege,” Ella said, telling her about the military’s deadline, then explaining
about the problem she was facing with Kevin over Dawn. “I always wanted to give my daughter the freedom to be herself. While I was growing up, I was always torn between Mom, the traditionalist, and Dad, the preacher. Even before I was in the first grade I was caught between them, and it was a no-win situation. Whenever I went in one direction I’d get a smile from one parent, and a frown from
the other. More than anything I’d hoped to give Dawn the freedom to choose her own path in life, never feeling pressured by either
Kevin or me to do or be anything other than herself. But Dawn’s a fast learner and has started using the differences between Kevin and me to her own advantage. She approaches whichever parent is more likely to give her what she wants. Kevin’s easier on her because
he wants her to choose to live with him, at least fifty-fifty, and that really worries me, Justine.”

“Do you honestly think Dawn will want to split the time between you and Kevin, particularly if he forces the issue and makes that decision for her?” Justine asked, reading between the lines.

“Under those circumstances, no. But Kevin’s far from stupid. He knows Dawn has to be the one to make that
choice, and he’s campaigning pretty hard, from what I’ve seen. The one thing in my favor is that my daughter’s a bright kid and she’s already figured out how to play his game. When push comes to shove, I don’t think Kevin will get what he wants.”

“But you’re still worried,” Justine observed, then, after a moment, added, “Ella, do
you
feel Kevin will be a better parent—or at least better for Dawn—because
he’ll be at home more?”

Ella sighed softly. “That’s the real bottom line, isn’t it? I’m honestly not sure. Being at home is a plus, but a daughter needs her mother in ways that are hard to put into words. If I’m working on a case and Kevin wants to take her for a few days, I don’t see any problem with that. But Dawn belongs with me. The ties between us are stronger than Kevin realizes—or Dawn,
for that matter.”

“Do you mind a piece of advice?”

“Go ahead,” Ella said.

“Take it one step at a time. Dawn’s a very smart little girl. It’s a given that she’s going to love it when Kevin showers her with toys and attention. But to leave the home she’s always known and live at his house every other week, or whatever? No way. It won’t happen.”

“Even if her grandmother moves out?” Ella countered,
then told Justine about Rose’s plans to live in Herman’s new home.

“That’ll be a big change for Dawn, but
you’re
the focus of her life. And, for the record, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re a
great
mom. You’re not always on a case, Ella. You’re supervising with her homework and reading with her at home. What about those horseback rides you and Dawn take on weekends, and the evening
ice cream parties whenever Dawn gets an A on her report card? That grade-level trip to the mountains? Those add texture and form the framework of your lives together. Sure, there are days like now, when a big case takes over your life for a while. But what you two share goes beyond ‘stuff’ and Dawn knows it. Don’t underestimate her.”

Ella nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you have a point. But
even facing the possibility that my daughter might move out even part time is making me a little crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I know she’d be in good hands with Kevin. He loves his daughter and Dawn adores him. I would never want that to stop, or to hurt their relationship. But I also want Dawn to grow up with me there to guide and take care of her. I need to be part of her day-to-day life, and Dawn
needs that from me, too, even if she’s not aware of it.”

“Have you reconsidered your relationship with Kevin, Ella? You can’t tell me you don’t have any feelings for him,” Justine said, changing into the right-hand lane to take the next freeway exit.

“I
do
care for him. And when I’m around him—and not furious about something he just did—I can certainly understand what drew me to him in the first
place. But our differences would split us apart, no matter how hard we tried to make a go of it for Dawn’s sake. What binds us—and always will—is the beautiful child we created together.”

“I don’t get it. If you know your relationship with Kevin isn’t strong enough to base a relationship upon, why have you taken yourself off the market? You don’t even date anymore, do you?”

“It’s been a year
or so, that’s true, but I haven’t been looking
because my life was pretty much complete as it is, and I didn’t want anything else.”

“Past tense? What’s changed?” Justine asked quickly, entering the left-hand lane of traffic, and waiting for an opening to pull into the row of one-story offices where the New Mexico State Police had a regional facility.