Never-ending-snake (12 page)

“Good. I was helping Kevin because my bosses aren’t playing fair with the tribe and I didn’t want to be part of that. But Cornelia can’t take any more problems, Ella. She’s handling all she can.”

“If things close in on you, you’ll have police protection, but the incident today has nothing to do with you. They’re
gunning for either
Kevin or Adam, or maybe both. We just don’t know enough to determine that yet.”

“I’m sorry to hear about Adam and Kevin, but I’m glad they didn’t come after me, particularly when I’m with Cornelia,” he said.

“Who do you think is running the scam at the casino?” Ella asked him.

“Alan Grady. He’s the casino’s business manager. Everything that has a dollar sign attached to it goes through him.
He’s not in it alone, but he’s the one calling the shots.”

“Where can I find Grady?”

“His office is at the casino, and he’s usually there eighteen hours a day. He has a home somewhere near the Rez, too, within a five minute drive.” He shook his head slowly. “Can you believe he was allowed to practically write his own contract with the tribe? Sweet deal, huh?”

“Sounds like it,” she said. “By
any chance, were you working at the casino yesterday morning?”

“Sure was, all day, from ten a.m. to six p.m. We’re open twenty-four/seven, and my days off are Monday and Tuesday, normally,” he said. “Yesterday morning . . . wasn’t that when the shooting took place?”

“Yeah. Did you happen to notice if Alan Grady was at the casino then?”

He thought about it for a minute. “I saw him around eleven.
He always walks the entire casino just before the morning crowd starts to trickle in. He then cruises the buffet with a critical eye, taste-testing as he fills his plate. After that, he goes and eats in his office. Unless something requires his presence he doesn’t come back out until late afternoon. It was the same yesterday. I saw him again just before I clocked out. Were you thinking that maybe
he was one of the shooters?” Don asked.

“We need to rule out people before we can narrow the list of suspects,” she said, not committing herself.

“You could access the security cameras and verify where he was. Of course you’d have to get his permission.”

“Okay. Thanks for your help. If anyone asks why I questioned you tell them the story we settled on.”

“It’s going to make you look like a
fool,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, and word will get around fast, too. But as my brother would say, everything has two sides. If my enemy underestimates me, it’ll give me the edge.”

He nodded, and as he walked away Justine came down the hall. “Joe and Marianna are outside gathering evidence and working the scene. Benny Pete’s still not here, but he’s on his way. The explosion was set off by a ruptured
gas tank, though the reason for the fire is still unknown. A few people were struck by flying debris, but no one was seriously injured.”

“Have you checked the security camera feed? Everything’s monitored inside and outside this hospital.” Ella knew it wasn’t as secure as the casino, except in the pharmacy area, but there were still plenty of cameras in the public places.

“That’s what I was doing
while you were talking to Don,” Justine answered. “I went to see Jonah Tom, head of security here. He’s got some real old equipment—tapes, mostly—except for where the drugs are stored. He’s waiting for us now,” she said, and cocked her head down the hall.

As they entered the security room just off the hall, a gray uniformed Navajo man in his late forties or early fifties nodded to her.

“The
tapes are lousy and grainy. Just a heads-up,” Jonah said. “I’ve been after administration to let me update the general site recorders to match the DVD hardware in the pharmacy, but it’s a hard sell. The truth of the matter is that we never have problems—not like today’s anyway—and since money’s always tight, things that aren’t high priority usually get set aside.”

Ella nodded, only too aware
of what he was saying. “At least we have daylight in our favor. Let’s start with the parking lot video,” she said.

As he played the black-and-white tape, she realized that it was so grainy the perp wearing the baseball cap and jacket could have faced the camera, smiled and waved, and they still wouldn’t have been able to ID him. She decided to focus instead on the way the suspect moved and walked
as he worked on the car he was obviously sabotaging. It soon became clear to her that he was aware of the cameras, purposely turning away and keeping his face down.

“Judging from the size and overall body type, that’s not the same man I chased down the hall,” Ella said.

“You got ambushed at the airstrip by two men. Maybe this was his partner. Does his body type fit?” Justine asked her.

“Yeah,
but what we have is still too broad a description,” Ella said, continuing to study the feed. “Look at the way he checks his watch as he works. Everything was timed and done with precision.” She watched the man duck below camera range. “Military-like.”

After about two minutes, he walked away from the car and out of range of the surveillance camera.

“It’s not much in terms of visuals,” Justine
said. “But we do have something. They’re either pros, ex-military men, or both.”

“Mercs—ex-military who need a little excitement to keep their blood flowing,” Jonah said. “Many of our young men find the reservation too tame when they get back.”

“Let me see the feed outside Kevin Tolino’s room, say, thirty minutes prior to my encounter with the gunman,” Ella said.

Jonah nodded. “I’ve already
separated it, but it all seems routine,” he added, then played the tape.

As she watched, she saw Don and Cornelia walk by,
stop to talk to the guard, then continue down the hall. Since the treatment area for cancer patients was on the other side of the hospital, questions immediately flooded her mind.

Justine, who stood directly behind her, spoke softly. “I know what you’re thinking. Maybe they
were just curious when they heard about the shooting and wanted to check on Kevin.”

“Or maybe Don’s starting to think that if that’s what they did to Kevin, he’s in over his head,” Ella said.

Next, Ella watched the video segment taken outside Adam’s room. Ella studied the man in the hooded sweats and sunglasses the second he came into view. He kept his head down, and as he walked, she saw a
flash of the gun he’d held beneath the flowers. Then the scene she’d experienced played out before her.

“Look at the way he’s avoiding the cameras. He’s too . . . practiced,” Ella said at last.

“Are you thinking that he came in earlier and studied all the camera angles?” Justine asked. “Their viewing fields are set.”

Ella nodded. “Precisely. Look at how he turns away at just the right moments.
We need to look at the footage taken earlier in the day and look for anyone who’s paying attention to the cameras. Let’s see if we can ID someone who fits the general size and shape of our suspects.”

“I’ll get those segments for you,” Jonah said.

After a moment’s pause, Ella looked over at Justine. “Pete Sanchez, the pilot who was wounded yesterday, is at the Farmington hospital. Call over there
and see if they’ve had any problems.”

As Ella was speaking, Agent Blalock came into the room. “I checked on that when I heard what was happening here,” he said. “Everything’s fine, but I put extra security on the job anyway—including FPD. You and I can go over and talk to him once you’re finished here.”

Leaving Justine to continue viewing the tapes, Ella went outside with Blalock. “Let’s go
see what my team’s managed to get us so far,” she said.

As they approached, Marianna greeted Ella with a quick half smile, while Benny continued placing numbered yellow markers by each piece of evidence, methodically working the scene.

“We don’t have much to report yet,” Marianna said.

“All we know is that the fire originated beneath the gas tank. It was set using a makeshift time delay and
lots of flammable material,” Benny said. “Maybe a hole was poked into the tank itself, or the fuel line compromised. Either way, all it took once the fire started was for the flames to encounter the fuel vapor.”

“Keep at it,” Ella said. “When you get more, call me. Don’t wait to catch me at the station.”

“Copy that,” Benny answered.

“One more thing, Benny. According to one source, Alan Grady
was at the casino, in or around his office, at the time of the airport incident. See if you can get anyone to confirm that.”

He nodded. “Will do.”

Ella glanced at Blalock and took a deep breath. “My family’s still inside,” she said, explaining the call from Rose that had brought her here in such a hurry. “Give me a minute to talk to them. If they’re both okay, then we can take off.”

“No problem.”

Ella dialed her mother and Rose answered instantly. “What’s happened, daughter? You told me to keep my granddaughter away from her father’s room and I’ve done that. But she’s very frightened and so am I. Somebody said there were gunshots, and a man was chased by police. I have a feeling you were in the middle of all that.”

“I was. But it’s over now and it’s safe for you to move around the hospital.
Where are you, by the way?”

“In the doctor’s lounge. The door wasn’t locked and no one was here, so we came in.”

“Good thinking, Mom,” Ella said. “Tell my daughter that her father’s safe, but his room’s going to be changed for security reasons and getting him settled might take a while. You should both go home for now. In a few hours, once everything calms down, you and she can return and visit.”

“It’s hard to keep her away from her father,” Rose said softly.

“I know, Mom. Do what you can, and I’ll talk to her when I get home.”

“Which will be late, I’ll bet,” Rose answered.

“Probably so.”

“Stay safe, daughter.”

“I will. Bye, Mom.”

As she placed the phone back in her pocket, she glanced around and saw Blalock leaning against one of the cars.

“Ready,” she said.

As Blalock drove out
of the hospital parking lot, Ella rubbed her side absently.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “By now you’d think that I’d have the art of hitting the ground and rolling behind cover refined to perfection. But I always end up black and blue.”

Blalock laughed as they stopped at the main entrance. “Here’s a news flash for you. The older you get, the worse it’ll be. And cops age faster than the
rest of the population.”

“That comes with the job,” Ella agreed.

“I can’t count the times I’ve thought about retiring. I’ve put in my twenty years. But having all that time on my hands . . .” He shook his head. “I mean, how often can you go fishing?”

“Don’t look at me. I hate fishing,” she answered with a grin. “But I hear you. If I had the years in right now I’d retire just so I could be with
my kid a little more. A few years
from now, she won’t want to be seen with me. And after she’s grown . . .”

“Yeah. Retirement never comes when it’s convenient.”

About twenty-five minutes later they reached the western edges of the off-Rez city of Farmington. As Blalock turned south and headed for the hospital, he glanced over at her. “Here’s a thought. Did the pilot escape the second attempt
because they haven’t found him yet, or because they couldn’t pull off both attacks at once?”

“Finding him shouldn’t have been that hard, so it’s possible he was never a target, and got hit by a stray. But we can’t say that for sure yet.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “What have you managed to dig up on Sanchez?”

“He’s an ex-Army pilot with eighteen years experience flying small aircraft.
He has a home in the Albuquerque area and is divorced, with no children. He makes a decent living, belongs to the Civil Air Patrol, and often assists in searches for downed aircraft. He’s worked at his current job for ten years and pays into a 401k.”

“So he’s squeaky clean and frugal.”

“Yeah,” Blalock answered, “but let’s go talk to him anyway. Even if he has nothing to do with what went down,
he might have overheard something that’ll be useful to us.”

“I’d like to know how the gunmen knew about our schedule. Are Sanchez’s arrival and departure times listed somewhere on the Internet, or would someone have to call in to find out? If that’s the case, maybe we can trace the call.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Blalock said.

It was a little past seven in the evening when they parked and went
inside the Regional Medical Center. A plainclothes Farmington police officer was sitting beside Sanchez’s door. Recognizing Blalock, he stood and introduced himself to Ella. “I was assigned to provide security for Mr. Sanchez, but it’s
been quiet except for a couple of local media people. He’s scheduled to be released tomorrow. Do I stay with him?”

“If there’s been no incident by then, FPD’s
protection won’t be required,” Blalock said. “If something changes, I’ll talk to your chief and make the request.”

He nodded once, then stepped aside, letting them pass.

The moment Pete saw Ella, his face brightened considerably. “Hey, Ella! It’s good to see you! I heard you were okay, but how are Kevin and Sergeant Lonewolf? I can’t seem to get a straight answer from the nurses here.”

She
gave him an update.

“With all the shots fired, we’re lucky to be alive,” he said.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Ella answered.

“Sorry I couldn’t help out. Only the big carriers permit firearms on board. Of course I know some pilots who stash a pistol in their pocket from time to time. I mean, who’s going to check? I just never thought it was necessary myself. Live and learn, huh?”

Ella sat down in a
visitor’s chair and Blalock did the same. “Let me ask you something, Pete. Is it possible that
you
were the target?”

“I know where you’re heading. With all the drug activity and gunrunning south into Mexico, small aircraft pilots like me often get lucrative offers. But I’m not into any of that. Check with my employer. They know when and where I’ve taken their aircraft. And check the plane itself
if you want. If I’d been carrying weapons and ammunition back and forth, you’d find telltale traces of gunpowder residue, right?”