Never-ending-snake (42 page)

“My guess is that the prairie dog found it, chewed on it, then lost interest. Did you ask your host if he knew what it was?”

“Yes, but only
after
I took it to my truck,” Clifford said. “He’d
never seen it before, and told me that he had no idea
where the prairie dog had found it. The only other guest he’d had in the last few weeks was the reporter.”

Ella sat back in her chair, wondering if there was something her brother had missed or Fred had forgotten to mention. It was possible—maybe even likely—that Hattery’s promised newsflash was connected to the device.

Justine came in a
short time later. “The microphone is damaged beyond repair, but it’s the type of device that can be purchased easily over the Internet. It transmits to a recorder placed in another location, up to a mile away under optimal conditions. Unfortunately, that doesn’t narrow the field much. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“Tell Neskahi about this. He might be on duty elsewhere, but I want him to
drop whatever it is and go see if he can turn up anything like footprints or vehicle tracks at Fred Benn’s place.”

“Once the listening device was damaged, Hattery probably picked up the equipment and moved on. You
are
thinking he was the one who planted the device, right?” Justine asked.

Ella nodded. “Have Joe try anyway.”

Clifford stood. “If you don’t need me anymore . . .”

“Have you been
able to get any leads on the money the shooting victim was carrying?” Ella asked her brother.

“No. All I can tell you for sure is that the hero isn’t a gambler. In fact, he won’t even buy a state lottery ticket or a scratcher. I know he met the Anglo head of casino management once at a tribal function, but they didn’t talk for very long, according to my source.”

“Good to know, brother. Thanks.”

“You want me to keep at it?”

“Yes. There are still too many unanswered questions about the hero.”

After Clifford left, Ella leaned back in her chair. Maybe
it was time to look more closely at the time discrepancy surrounding the IFT deal. Garnenez had said one thing, Begaye another. The difference wasn’t just a few hours either. It was at least a few days, and in that gap of time Adam and Kevin
had both been gunned down.

“Quick, log on to the net,” Justine said, hurrying into the office and over to Ella’s desk. “The Farmington station’s Web broadcast is running live again, and you’re not going to like it.”

As they watched, Ella saw Norm Hattery break his exclusive, stating that Adam had been carrying seventy-five thousand dollars in cash at the time of the attack, and that the money
was now in the custody of the police. The bulletin finished, then repeated itself, going into a loop.

“Any idea how he found out?” Ella asked her partner.

“Someone in the know either screwed up or leaked it on purpose.”

“So let’s go down the list. We can rule out everyone in our team. Nothing to gain, everything to lose. Next comes the Lonewolf family. I doubt any of them knew about it, but
even if they did, they wouldn’t have publicly discredited Adam this way. Ford knew, but he wouldn’t have told anyone. Clifford and Kevin also knew, but I trust both men. That leaves Kevin’s boss, Robert Buck. He’s more politician than lawyer, but I don’t see what he might have to gain, at least in the short haul.”

“Me neither,” Justine said. “We’ve done background checks on all the players, and
turned up nothing, so let’s try a different approach. My sister Jayne’s best friend, Dena Bileen, is Buck’s office assistant. Let’s see if we can get something from her via Jayne.”

Ella tried to remember if she’d ever met Dena, but nothing came to her.

Seeing her partner trying to put a face to the name, Justine continued. “Dena’s eminently forgettable. She’s about
as ordinary-looking as you
can get, and has no charisma. But according to Jayne, she can type a gazillion words per minute and multitask like a mainframe computer. The perfect assistant—that’s what Jayne says.”

“Okay, see what you can do.”

The following afternoon Ella stopped just outside Big Ed’s office, took a breath, then knocked on the semi-open door. She could hear him on the phone, and as Big Ed gestured
for her to take a seat, her hope that he’d just wave her away vanished.

“We’re doing our best to uncover the leak, and I assure you it didn’t come from our department.” Big Ed paused then added, “Yes, sir, I’ll keep your office in the loop.” After barely resisting the urge to slam the phone down, he walked to the door and shut it. “That was the tribal president, Shorty, and he’s angry and embarrassed
by the suggestion that our best-known Navajo warrior since the time of the Code Talkers has now been branded as a criminal. Do you have any idea how this got out?”

“Our best bet is Robert Buck, or someone connected to him, but we haven’t been able to nail it down yet.”

He rubbed a hand through his hair, then sat back. “Have you got anything new for me on the core investigation?”

She told him
about the discrepancy in dates. “I’m hoping to make some sense out of that, but one of the problems on a case like this is that it doesn’t travel in a straight line. We don’t even know if the apparent contradiction is relevant.”

After a knock sounded on Big Ed’s door, he boomed out a “come in.”

Justine entered, a big smile on her face. “We got a break. I know how Hattery learned about the seventy-five
thou,”
she said. “Jayne told me that Norm’s been dating Dena Bileen, Robert Buck’s assistant. Dena was convinced that she and Norm had something special going on. He apparently promised he’d take her with him when he left the Rez.”

“And she believed that slimy con artist?” Ella asked, shaking her head.

“The guy’s smooth,” Big Ed said with a scowl. “He plays everyone he meets, apparently.”

“Dena’s in a mess of trouble right now. As soon as Robert Buck heard about the leak, he took a closer look at his assistant, too. She’s the only other person in his office who knew about the cash. Although it didn’t take him long to find out that Dena was dating Hattery, he still can’t prove she’s the leak. Hattery protects his sources, too, so chances are Buck will never know for sure.”

“Let’s
move on, then,” Ella said. “I’m going to talk to Begaye and Garnenez once more,” Ella said, standing.

“Keep me in the loop, Shorty. And good work, Officer Goodluck,” Big Ed said, leaning back in his chair.

As Ella opened the door, she nearly collided with Benny, who was about to knock.

“Bad news boss, other boss,” Benny announced, holding up a newspaper. “Adam Lonewolf’s clan is up in arms.
They called Jaime Beyale of the
Diné Times
to give their take on the cash inside the briefcase. Fred Benn—the uncle—has been quoted as saying this is our department’s way of discrediting Adam and shifting the focus away from our own bungled investigation. Fred also suggested that the money belonged to Tolino and that it was a bribe he’d received from Grady, the Anglo casino boss. He claims that
if Adam was carrying that money, it was undoubtedly on Kevin’s orders.”

Ella muttered a curse. When Kevin read that story . . . She hadn’t even finished the thought when her cell phone vibrated. She didn’t answer it.

Big Ed slammed his fist against the desk. “We’re going
to experience the mother of all backlashes, folks. The public’s going to buy into the uncle’s story because they want to believe
in Adam’s innocence.”

Benny Pete cleared his throat, and they all braced themselves, realizing that he had even more to say. “I’ve been studying Adam Lonewolf’s notes in detail,” he said. “Though he’d made every concession he was authorized to make, Adam was certain that IFT was going to turn down the tribe’s final offer. The company wanted more money, but the tribe’s budget was stretched to
the limit and there were no more resources they could tap into to sweeten the deal.”

“If that’s true, then what made IFT change their minds? Adam was carrying the money
back
to the Rez, not delivering it to Williams or whomever,” Justine asked.

“Good point, partner,” Ella said. “Let’s go talk to Begaye and Garnenez. Benny, I’d like you to check with Agent Blalock and see if anyone has come up
with a lead on O’Riley.” She glanced back at Big Ed. “Blalock’s been directing a multi-agency task force and they’ve been checking out fast food outlets, gas stations, bus terminals, apartment landlords, and cheap motels. Even rest stops and parks. If O’Riley is in the area, he still has to eat and find a place to sleep.”

Big Ed glanced at his three officers. “Keep me updated. And, Shorty, work
fast,” he said, reaching for his phone.

Benny returned to the lab as Ella walked with Justine down the hall. Before they reached the side door, her phone began to ring.

Ella sighed, expecting it to be Kevin, ready to sue Adam’s in-laws. To her surprise, it was Sheriff Taylor, who’d often worked with her on cases that overlapped tribal and county jurisdiction. “Ella, I got a call from the chief
of security at the tribal casino, Rudy Nez. He just reported a death at the Alan Grady residence just east of the Hogback—on county jurisdiction. There’s a possibility this might be connected to the shootings you’ve been working on, so I’m extending you a
courtesy. I’m en route now, about a half hour away. Can you meet me there?”

“I sure can. Is Grady the victim?” Ella pressed.

“Yes, according
to Nez, who says Grady asked him to come over. Nez claims his boss was dead when he arrived at the residence. If you get there before our units, would you secure the scene and keep him out of the way? I’ve come across Nez before, and he’s a pain in the butt.”

“Roger that. I should make it in ten, maybe fifteen.”

“Fine.” Taylor ended the call.

Ella gave Justine the highlights as they left the
building.

“I wonder if Nez had anything to do with this? Or maybe O’Riley decided to take out his boss—if Grady is behind all this,” Justine said.

“Whatever the case, we need to get over there pronto. I’d like to question Nez before the sheriff and his team show up.”

They arrived at the house just north of the river within twelve minutes. Grady lived in a large, modern home on land that had
been part of an enormous apple orchard during Ella’s childhood. Developers had changed the entire valley. The housing area was nice, and all the yards had manicured lawns, but they were built too close together for her tastes. As they pulled up, Ella saw Rudy in the front yard, waiting beside his mustard yellow pickup.

“Not surprised to see you here, Clah, though this is county jurisdiction,
not tribal. Sheriff Taylor call you?”

“Something like that,” Ella commented. “You’ve already been inside, right?” she added, stepping up the porch.

“Yeah, and you might want to take a look for yourself before the deputies arrive. Someone went to a lot of trouble to stage this,” he said, waving toward the open door.

“How far in did you go?”

“No more than a few steps,” Rudy said. “Didn’t want
to contaminate the scene. Once you get into the living room, look to your left. His office door’s open.”

Ella glanced inside, and at first, all she saw was an expensively furnished living room in some modern style requiring chrome and leather. Looking down at the carpet, she checked for trace evidence. Seeing nothing, she took two steps into the room and looked to the left as he’d suggested.
Grady was slumped over his desk, a pool of blood around his head like an unholy halo. A revolver lay on the floor below his outstretched hand.

“It looks like he committed suicide, but that doesn’t make any sense, considering his call to you,” Ella said, stepping back out.

“Not at all,” Rudy responded, adding a shrug.

“I’d like to take a closer look at all those papers scattered around the desk,”
Justine said, having come up alongside her.

“Not until Sheriff Taylor arrives,” Ella said, stepping back outside and off the porch. “This is his turf.”

Sheriff Taylor, the county sheriff and an old acquaintance of Ella’s, arrived only a few minutes later. Hearing Rudy Nez’s story, he glanced at Ella, who shook her head and shrugged.

“You’re welcome to work the crime scene with us, Ella. You,
too, Officer Goodluck,” Taylor said as his own crime scene team arrived in their big van. “I’ve been following the case you’ve been working and also helping Blalock with the search for O’Riley. Is there any chance Grady was involved in the airport shootings?”

“I don’t think so. Although I hadn’t ruled the man out, I have stronger evidence against some of our other suspects.”

“All right then,
let’s get started,” he said.

Ella pulled on the first of two pairs of latex gloves—a practice most Navajo officers followed. Traditional Navajo beliefs held that touching anything that had come into contact with the dead was highly dangerous. The
chindi
, the evil side of a person that remained earthbound after death,
would be nearby, waiting, and eager to create trouble for the living. While
Ella struggled with the second pair, she listened to one of the deputies questioning Rudy.

“About fifteen minutes ago, Alan Grady asked me to come over to his house in Fruitland,” Rudy explained. “He claimed that someone was watching his home and tailing him whenever he left. I told him to call the sheriff’s department—that I worked for the casino—but he insisted. Since he signs my paycheck—at
least up to last week—I gave in and drove over. It only took me ten minutes, but when I got here, the door was unlocked. Inside I found Grady, freshly dead. Gunshot wound to the head, it looks like.

“I came over as soon as I could,” Rudy added, “but there was no one around. My first thought was that Investigator Clah or one of her team was watching the house, and that’s who Alan had seen, but
I looked around carefully as I drove up and all I saw was a male pheasant standing in the tall grass.”

Ready now, Ella followed Taylor inside, and although most of the evidence pointed to suicide, experience had taught her that first impressions couldn’t be trusted. She took in the room slowly, studying the scene from ceiling to floor as the photographer worked. Once he moved away, she drew closer
to the papers scattered on the expensive Ganado-style Navajo rug. Most were articles on the shooting at the airstrip and Kevin’s casino management investigation.