Tracking Bear (11 page)

Read Tracking Bear Online

Authors: David Thurlo

BOOK: Tracking Bear
6.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A Navajo man in his thirties,
wearing dress slacks and a white shirt but no tie, was lying on the floor rubbing his knee. Beside him was a toppled stepladder and two halves of a long board. Books were scattered all around.

Ella placed her weapon back in its holster, then turned and nodded to Justine, who was moving closer now. “Are you injured?” she asked, approaching him. “Do you need an ambulance?”

The man sat up slowly,
looking at her, then Justine, who was now standing in the passageway. “No. I’m okay,” he grumbled. “I just tried to put too many books on the shelf.”

Ella gave him a hand up, and he gave her a wry smile. “Now that I’ve undoubtedly impressed both of you gun-toting hopefully police officers, tell me what I can do for you.”

Ella laughed. The man had a wonderful smile. Glancing at Justine out of
the corner of her eye, she saw that her partner had noticed it, too. Ella pulled out her badge and identified herself and Justine. “We’re just here to find out more about NEED for background on a case we’re working.”

“I’m George Charley,” he said, sitting down on one of the folding chairs, and motioning them to do the same. “I’m the spokesperson and founder of the NEED project. I’ll help you
in any way I can.”

Ella sat down at a table next to his, and Justine remained standing where she could see the entrance. “Well, for starters, I understand that you’re trying to gather qualified Navajo consultants and experts in related fields to support the NEED goals.”

He nodded. “It’ll give us even more credibility.”

“Tell me how you go about presenting the nuclear power plant concept, and
asking for support. I understand that you and Professor Kee Franklin have had some differences, and you haven’t been able to convince him that the NEED project will be good for our tribe.”

George nodded slowly. “Dr. Franklin understands our vision better than most, but the harm the tribe has been subjected to in the past broke his spirit. He’s seen too many deaths to look forward to new and better
lives for the Navajos still to come. But I haven’t given up on him.”

“And what about his son?” Ella asked.

“The police officer who was killed?” Seeing Ella nod, he continued. “I heard about that. But if you’re asking me if we tried to recruit him, too, the answer is no. I’d heard that Officer Franklin stood with his father on the NEED issue, and he talked up the issue whenever he got the chance,
but that’s really all I know about him.”

“Did you ever worry that Professor Kee would organize the opposition and defeat your plans for NEED?”

George laughed. “Not at all. But if our opponents ever joined forces, that would only make us work harder. I truly believe that we’re in the right on this one. If the NEED project is realized, it’ll benefit our tribe for generations.”

“How much have
you already invested in this?”

“Everything I have—which admittedly isn’t much. But Jeffrey Jim and several of our politicians have also invested heavily in us.”

“Which politicians?”

George Charley shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to say, at least not yet. But their money has helped us launch our own advertising-informational campaign. We’re determined to get the word out and sway as many
people as possible. In fact, I’m also scheduled to go one-on-one with George Branch on his radio program.”

“Good luck there,” Ella said, unable to keep the distaste from her voice.

He smiled. “I don’t expect it to be easy, but without the full support of the
Dineh
, we’ll never be able to get the funding necessary.”

“What can you tell me about Professor Franklin’s professional credentials?”
Ella asked. She had a feeling that this man knew something he hadn’t said, perhaps something connected to that gap in Franklin’s background.

George took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I know he’s highly qualified. He was once the best in his field—though half the stuff he did was classified.”

“Then how do you know he was really that good?”

“I don’t
know
anything, but it’s a guess based
on some papers he published. I also completed an internship at Los Alamos in one of their research labs during college, and I heard about Dr. Franklin’s reputation then.”

“He was also a professor at the college in Los Alamos,” Justine said. “He should be very good explaining complicated technology to people who aren’t on his level.”

George nodded. “As I said, we want him on board, and we’re
not giving up.”

“Do you think he’ll eventually join your efforts?” Ella asked.

“He’s a highly intelligent man. In comparison to him, all of us here have the IQ of carrots, at least in physics. Sooner or later, he’ll see that NEED is going to give the tribe what it has never had before—self-determination.”

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Charley,” Ella said, then walked back outside, Justine right
behind her.

“That’s an interesting perspective on Professor Franklin, but it doesn’t get us any closer to Jason’s killer,” Justine said as she climbed back into the vehicle. “In my opinion, the break-in is at the center of this. We both agree that the killer couldn’t have known Jason would stop by. If Jason had been marked for murder, the hit could have taken place anywhere else and at less risk
to the killer.”

Ella nodded. “Jason went into that garage ready to catch a burglar. If I wanted to murder a cop, I’d catch him or her cold, not primed for trouble. I agree with you that the break-in has to be connected. Now we’ve got to figure out how and why,” Ella said.

They were on the way back to the station, which wasn’t far, when Ella’s cell phone rang. She answered it on the first ring,
identifying herself.

“Hey, Special Investigator.”

She recognized Harry Ute’s voice. They’d been dating for months now, taking things slow. He was a totally different man from the one who’d worked for her as a member of the Special Investigations Unit. “Hey, Deputy,” she replied with a smile.

“Deputy Federal Marshal, please. I have an image to protect now.”

Ella laughed. “What’s up?”

“I’m
coming to Farmington to pick up a prisoner to transport for trial in Albuquerque, but I’ll be in half a day early. How about dinner?”

“Tonight? If so, it’s a date. The Totah Café?”

“Yeah. Sounds good. Seven?”

“That works for me.”

Justine smiled at her. “Sure looks like you and Harry have a thing going.”

“You’ve got romance on the brain. First George and Marie, now me and Harry.”

“Don’t bother
to deny it,” Justine said nonchalantly. “I can sense things like this.”

“Okay, Radar. But we’re just dating. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure.”

A comfortable silence fell between them as they drove to the station. Finally, Justine spoke. “I’m thinking that it’s time I expanded my search of the database to include neighboring communities. Maybe there’s a burglar prone to violence working our area.”

Ella nodded.

“Your brother Clifford now goes over to the Arizona side of the Rez for Sings and to treat patients. Maybe we should ask if he’s seen or heard something from other communities in the area.”

“Good idea. I’ll go pay him a visit while you follow up on the other things.”

Once they reached the station, Justine went inside, and Ella walked over to her own vehicle. It had been a while
since she’d seen her brother. She was glad for a chance to go visit him—that is, if he was at home today. His patients lived all over the reservation.

En route, she entered Clifford’s number on the cell phone, but no one answered. That wasn’t unusual, however, because his “practice” had expanded, and he was often gone seeing patients. There was no phone in his medicine hogan either, where he
spent most of his time when at home.

Clifford’s home was farther down the same road where her mother lived, and in a small canyon. As Ella pulled up, she saw smoke rising from the smoke hole in the medicine hogan’s roof. Loretta’s car was gone, and no vehicles or horses were around except for Clifford’s pickup, but that didn’t mean a patient hadn’t walked here. People were still used to walking
great distances on the Rez all times of the year.

She got out of the SUV, then leaned against the side of the vehicle and waited.

Soon her brother stepped out and waved at her, inviting her to come inside and join him. He was as tall as she, and two years older. As did many Navajo men, Clifford wore jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. He had a simple leather belt with no fancy buckle, and
wore a leather medicine pouch at his waist rather than a nine-millimeter handgun as she did. His hair was a bit shorter than hers, however, though it extended below his shoulders, and was confined somewhat by the traditional blue bandanna medicine men often wore.

“I haven’t seen you for a while,” Clifford said. His voice was warm, but obeying the taboo that forbade a brother and sister to touch,
he made no attempt to hug her.

“I’ve got a crazy work schedule, and Mom’s keeping me busy—almost as much as my daughter.” Here, out of respect to his traditional beliefs, no names would be used. Names had power and were not to be spoken casually. “How’s your wife and son?”

“They’re doing fine, and have been going with me on some of my trips across the mountains into Arizona, school permitting,
of course. Very few Navajo men are learning the Sings needed for healing ceremonies in these times, and I’m being called upon more and more. It’s necessary, but hard on our home life,” Clifford acknowledged. “Can you stay for dinner? My wife and son went into Shiprock for groceries, but there will be plenty to go around when they return.”

“Thanks, but I have plans. Maybe some other time.” Ella
smiled.

Clifford nodded. “So when are you going to tell me why you really stopped by?”

“Angry voices are being raised in conversation everywhere, not just at the Chapter Houses these days. I’m worried about the safety of our mother, who seems to be right in the thick of things. Of course she has a right to do as she pleases, but I sure wish she’d stay in the background more.”

“Not
our
mother.
There are some out there who’d like to shut her up, you know.” Clifford shook his head.

Ella nodded. “I agree, but there’s nothing we can do about that. You and I have spoken to her about that more than once, and our words just go in one ear and out the other.”

Clifford smiled at the expression their father had used frequently when they were children, then invited her to sit on of the sheepskin
rugs placed on the hogan floor. “I’m beginning to understand where you got your spirit of adventure,” he said with a grin.

“It’s interesting,” she admitted. “Mom and I have finally found something we have in common.”

He laughed and continued working, crushing some herbs inside a pottery bowl with a piece of deer antler he’d fashioned into a grinder, like a chemist with mortar and pestle. Then
his expression grew serious. “I heard about the police officer. Is that another reason why you’re here?”

“Mostly,” she said with a nod, then told him about the theory that a violent burglar had been the killer. “Have you seen or heard anything during your travels that I can use?”

“No, but if I do, I’ll tell you immediately.”

“Thanks. You see so many people, so I can really use your help.”

“Sure, but the nuclear power plant issue is just about the only thing people talk about these days with unemployment so high. There’s a lot of opposition, but I think the ones who support the idea are slowly wearing down the others.”

“We need to provide more job opportunities for our people. There’s no escaping that,” Ella said.

“But I have to tell you, Sister. I sure wish that we could go back
to the days when people lived off the land. We would plant corn and melons, and have our sheep. These days the Rez is getting to be like the Anglo world—nothing gets done without cash.”

“We can’t be herders and farmers. Those days are gone. The lack of rain and the abuse of the land have made certain of that.”

“These days we spend more time arguing about the land than we do working with it,”
he said sadly. “The ones who are really caught in a dead-end situation are the
anaashii
, squatters who live on someone else’s land. They have no other place to live, or money to buy land off the Rez. They build a house wherever they can, hoping they don’t get kicked off.”

“The tribe builds housing, but people still have to pay rent. Our population continues to grow, and without jobs…”

“In my
opinion, we’ve lost as much as we’ve gained the last hundred years.”

“No, I don’t agree,” Ella said. “I like modern conveniences, like TV, electricity, and indoor plumbing with safe drinking water. I would have been miserable watching a flock of sheep, hauling in water, and staying out in the cold all night during lambing season.”

“Spoken like a true modernist.”

Hearing hoofbeats, she stood
up. “That sounds like one of your patients.”

“It probably is. I’m expecting someone.”

She walked to the entrance and pushed aside the blanket that served as a door. “If you hear anything I should know about concerning NEED, call me. Something tells me I should keep an eye on them.”

Seeing a young woman and another older one who looked like her mother riding up on two slender geldings, Clifford
waved.

The younger woman waved back, slid off her mount, lifted away the simple bridle, and released the animal to search for grass while she continued on to the hogan. The older lady climbed down more leisurely, then began to tend her horse. Ella returned to her SUV, suspecting the mother was there for reasons of propriety.

Ella had always envied her brother. He had the respect of almost everyone
in the Four Corners, and his services, unlike those of a police officer, were always valued and held in high regard. Competent traditional healers were becoming rare on the Navajo Nation, and people came from all over the Rez to see him.

As she drove away, Ella thought about the recent break in tradition she and Clifford had tacitly agreed upon. In the Navajo culture, children growing up had
historically been given more attention and guidance from the mother’s side of the family, usually from the aunts and uncles.

Other books

Bounty by Aubrey St. Clair
Lady of Asolo by Siobhan Daiko
The Courtesan by Carroll, Susan
Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) by MariaLisa deMora
Hemingway's Ghost by Green, Layton
The Magic Circle by Katherine Neville
Stealing God by James Green