Tracking Bear (12 page)

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Authors: David Thurlo

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In their own situation, Clifford had found that the time he’d spent with Dawn was time denied his own son Julian because his wife Loretta’s brother lived too far away to give Julian any attention, and she had no sisters. The situation was becoming a strain on their marriage,
so Clifford had opted to spend less time with Dawn and more with his son. Dawn, with day school and Jennifer Clani as a sitter when Ella was gone, hadn’t suffered for lack of attention.

Ella returned to the station, hoping for positive news. As she went into her office, Justine was inside, placing a file folder on her desk.

“What’s that?”

Justine jumped. “Jeez, make a little noise, will ya,
Ella? You nearly gave me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that.”

“Next time I’ll wear a bell,” Ella teased. “So what’s in the folder?”

“A detailed report on all the physical evidence we’ve collected.”

“Good.” Ella leafed through the pages, then glanced up. “Save me some time. Is there anything new in here I need to know about right now?”

“I’ve been searching all the police data files
in our area, and I’ve found one burglar who’s shown a propensity for violence. The man broke into several homes in Farmington, all owned by single women, and then beat and robbed the residents.”

“Rape?”

“No. Just generic violence.”

“No commercial places, just private homes?” Ella asked.

Justine nodded. “That’s the only suspect that’s got an MO that’s even close. But he threatens his victims
with a knife, not a gun.”

“And what about gang activity? Anything on burglaries?”

“There’s no known activity in this area of the Rez at the moment, and this crime certainly doesn’t fit the MO of any of the gangs in our area. They often wear hats or caps, yes, but not wigs. Tache and Neskahi have been talking to people, but so far, they haven’t been able to turn up anything.”

“That alone tends
to rule out the kids,” Ella commented. “They almost always brag about their activities.”

“I agree. Right now, I’m following up on the wig. The dark hairs we found didn’t come from a cheap model.”

“Anything on that?”

“Not yet. I did go to a store in Farmington that sells wigs but they didn’t have the type we’re looking for—a particular blend of synthetic that’s very close to human hair. They
suggested I try some mail-order companies.”

“Why don’t we call it a night and get back to it tomorrow bright and early?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ella stood up and grabbed her keys from the desk when her cell phone rang. “Uh-oh.”

Ella identified herself, then listened to the patch from the field. “I’m on my way,” she said after a moment.

Justine was looking at her expectantly. “We’re not going
home, are we?”

“Not by a long shot. There’s been a shooting in the parking lot of the Quick Stop. We’re needed over there right now. Billy Redhouse, the tribal councilman, has been shot and killed.”

Ten

Ella parked in front of the Quick Stop, a successful north side business in the Shiprock community that provided convenience store foods and gasoline and diesel fuel to those in a hurry.

Justine and Tache pulled up in the crime-scene van and parked beside her. Ella got out and glanced around. On the north side of
the building, away from the lights, she could see a large cream-colored luxury sedan, the driver’s side door open and the interior dome light shining. A faint mechanical purr told her that the engine was still running.

As the team got their equipment out, Ella approached carefully, searching the ground for evidence with her flashlight. There were at least three sets of footprints she avoided
stepping on, and a large tooled-leather wallet lay on the ground about halfway between the open door and the left front tire. She made sure not to disturb it.

As she reached the car, a new model Lincoln with all the extras, Ella saw the body. The victim’s head was resting on the steering wheel, and his arms dangled limply toward the floor-board. There was a gaping, ugly red hole about the size
of a dime at the base of his head, but the flow of blood had stopped.

Ella studied the body. Most of the blood from the obviously fatal wound had flowed down the victim’s neck onto his collar and beyond. Crouching low, she was able to get into a good enough position to look at the man’s face, confirming it was Redhouse. A trickle of blood had flowed from his mouth, but unless that was the exit
point, the bullet hadn’t passed completely through the skull.

Ella stood up. Redhouse had been attacked while seated in the vehicle. He’d either just gotten in, or had been about to get out. His seat belt wasn’t fastened in place, if he’d indeed been wearing it earlier. If the wallet on the ground was his, her guess was that it had been emptied.

As Justine came up Ella stepped back, pointing
to the wallet on the ground and the prints. With her team at work, and Carolyn due to arrive shortly, she could do more inside the Quick Stop questioning the clerk.

“I’m going to turn off the engine, okay?” Justine said, holding up her hands, which were now covered with the Navajo standard two pairs of latex gloves.

“Go ahead. I’ll check inside the store and see what those inside saw or heard.”

Ella went around to the front of the store and saw the clerk, a middle-aged Navajo man with a sizable paunch, pacing back and forth in front of the counter. Philip Cloud, the patrolman who’d called in the report, was standing to one side of him.

As Ella approached, Philip took her aside. “The clerk’s name is Duncan Douglas. He says that the perp, a big guy, came into the store wearing a Halloween
mask, one of an ugly bald-headed man that covers the entire head. The perp waved a gun, pointing to the cash register. Douglas opened the drawer, and the perp pushed him down on the floor, never saying a word. Douglas said that he grabbed the cash with gloved hands and ran back outside. Douglas stayed down at first because he was too afraid to move, but then he heard a shot. Thinking he’d be
next, he grabbed the phone and made the call from beneath the counter.”

“Smart cookie.”

He nodded. “He didn’t come out until he heard a car racing out of the parking lot. Figuring he was safe then, he went to try and take a look at the getaway vehicle. That’s when he saw that the councilman had been shot. He ran back inside immediately, called the emergency number and asked for the EMTs.”

“I hope you canceled the EMTs,” Ella said.

“Yeah, I did. Once I came on the scene, I could see they weren’t needed.”

Ella looked back at the clerk and glanced around the interior of the Quick Stop. “This place will probably go out of business now. Nobody will come near a place that has been tainted by death. People won’t tempt the
chindi
, you know?”

“The owner will probably just move the Quick
Stop to another location, maybe down the road. Remember the old fairgrounds? When someone died there during a ceremony they had to relocate the entire facility,” Philip recalled. “Do you want me to go out there and help your team?”

“Yeah. Secure the scene and work with Justine,” she told Philip. “I’ll go interview the clerk and see if he can add anything new.”

Duncan held a cup of coffee unsteadily
in his hands as Ella drew near. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or the lights, but his face looked decidedly gray.

“I’m a police detective,” Ella said, holding out her ID. At a time like this, even a modernist might find offense in the use of proper names, and she needed Duncan’s complete confidence.

“I know who you are. I’ve met many of your clan.”

She nodded slowly. A long silence stretched
out, and Ella leaned back against the wall and waited.

He took a sip of coffee. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened here tonight,” he said, his words tumbling out. “When I heard that shot, I was sure he’d come back in and shoot me, too. But when I heard a car racing out I decided to take a look. That’s when I saw the councilman’s car. It’s easy to recognize—not too many expensive cars
like that around here. I ran over, but when I saw him I almost threw up. I came back inside and called for more help.”

“You said you heard the robber’s car racing away and went outside. Did you get a look at it?”

“I saw the back end, but only for a few seconds. It was a sedan of some kind—a light color, maybe tan because it was darker than the councilman’s. It wasn’t fancy, whatever it was.”

“Did you notice the license plate, any distinguishing marks, like a dent, for example, or a flag fixed to the antennae?”

He considered it silently for several moments. “The license plate was missing, but it had a bumper sticker, if that helps. It was on the right hand side…I think.”

“What kind of sticker?”

“It was one of the NEED ones that say ‘We NEED Clean Air’ or something like that. You’ve
seen them. They’re everywhere.”

Ella nodded. “Now, I want you to remember the robber. What did he look like?”

“He had that mask on, the one I mentioned to the other officer. I never saw his face.”

“What about his eyes? Get a color?”

“He had eyes,” Duncan said seriously, “but I was really trying not to look directly at him. I was more worried about the gun. It was some kind of automatic, but
not chrome or nickel or whatever that silver color is. I don’t know pistols very well, but it was not a revolver.”

“Was he tall or short?”

“Tall, maybe your height, five-ten or- eleven. And not as slender as you. He was wearing dark slacks and a red plaid flannel shirt. He also had on a pair of animal-skin Western boots, a medium brown color. I know cause I looked down a lot. I didn’t want to
stare at the gun and end up giving him any ideas.”

“I understand. You did fine. But think. You must have seen his eyes. What color were they?” Ella pressed.

Douglas shook his head. “Dark, probably, but I honestly don’t know. The only thing I remember was that mask. I would recognize it, for sure.”

“The robber was working alone?”

“Only one man came in…but there was another person in the car—the
driver,” he said slowly. “I didn’t even think of it until now. I barely saw him, but there
were
two shapes in the front seat.”

“Okay. Thanks. You’ve been really helpful.” Ella stepped outside and saw Carolyn, the ME, working under the glare of the crime-scene spotlights just set up.

As Ella went to join her, Carolyn looked up and turned off her tape recorder. The body was on the ground now on
a stretcher, inside a body bag.

“He was shot at close range into the base of the skull. I didn’t notice the exit wound until I looked inside his mouth. The bullet nicked a tooth on the way out, then entered the dashboard. From the angle, the killer must have been just a few feet away. The victim had his head turned away, maybe reaching for the car keys at the time the shot was fired.”

“No struggle?”

“I don’t think so. The victim was cooperating, apparently, and may not have even known it was coming.”

Ella stared at the body for a second. She didn’t know what caliber weapon had been used for this basically execution-style murder, but the MO was similar to the one used by Jason’s killer. In her opinion, there was more to this than met the eye.

“Do you need help getting the body into the van?”
Ella asked.

“Yeah. Too bad Neskahi isn’t here.”

Ella smiled. “You have an evil heart, Carolyn.”

Carolyn smiled back. “You betcha. And a long memory.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

Although it was a job Ella detested, she couldn’t see giving it to Justine. At the moment her partner was focusing on a footprint some distance away, where the ground was soft enough to leave a good impression. Officer
Tache was photographing it while Justine prepared a plaster cast. From the looks of things, they already had more leads to follow on this case than they had on Jason’s.

Once the body was put into the rear of the coroner’s vehicle and secured, Carolyn climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ll call you or fax you a report once I’ve got something.”

After Carolyn left, Ella walked over to Justine. “What
have you got?”

“The doc pointed out the trajectory of the bullet, and we spotted a small hole in the wood paneling around the radio. I took a closer look and found the slug resting on a bracket under the dash. It came from a .380. The slug is intact, though the nose is smashed up, but we have a little rifling to work with, like before. It might be from the same weapon that killed our officer.
Didn’t find a shell casing, though.”

“The shooter must have picked it up. Did you check out the wallet on the ground?”

“It’s the councilman’s, all right. There was no cash inside, just credit cards and photos. I’ll be checking it for prints later. There was blood splattered on the outside of the wallet, some of it smeared, so the victim must have brought out the wallet before being shot. He
probably kept it in his inside jacket pocket rather than his hip, judging from the size of the thing,” Justine said.

“Good work.”

“There’s also a boot print leading away from the car that showed up real good over there. It’s distinctive because there’s only one brand that I know of that has a small embossed circle on each heel. I also found a tiny piece of fabric caught in a tumble-weed a few
feet away from the body. It’s been bagged and tagged.”

“Did you find any tread marks that might belong to the perp’s car?”

“I know that a vehicle pulled up right behind the councilman’s car. I’ll be checking into the tread pattern of the tires.”

Ella checked her watch, then stepping away so Justine could finish working, dialed the chief, Big Ed, at home. Ella filled him in quickly. “Thought
you’d like to be apprised of the situation.”

“You bet. I want you to notify the councilman’s family personally. That’s your next step. I don’t need more political fallout than I’m already going to get.”

Ella placed her cell phone back on her belt, then joined Justine again. “I’m going to go inform the family, and maybe find out where the councilman stood on the NEED question.”

“Do you think
there’s a connection between this murder and Jason Franklin’s?”

“Other than possibly the same weapon being used? Yes—NEED.”

Ella headed to her car and, as she walked, called Kevin. She told him what had happened, and asked if, as a fellow tribal councilman, he’d known the victim.

“Yeah. He and his wife live in the Beclabito area. They’ve only been married a year. She’s going to take this very
hard.”

“Give me a little background on her and Billy.”

“Emily, Billy’s wife, had been widowed for several years when they met. Billy hired her a few years ago as his assistant. She’s great with people and has been a real asset to Billy.” There was a pause. “I’m also their attorney. Do you mind if I meet you at their house?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll drive slow and meet you there.”

Ella followed
the directions Kevin had given her to the Redhouse home, west of Shiprock and close to the Arizona state line. It was a large stucco-and-frame house on a fenced-in area of rolling hills and piñon-juniper forest.

She parked outside on a graveled driveway leading to a twocar garage, and, as she opened the SUV’s door, Kevin pulled up. She waited for him, wrapping her coat tightly around herself,
trying to keep warm despite the cold wind blasting against her. It was close to the mountains here, and felt very much like winter at the moment.

“Thanks for letting me come with you,” Kevin said. “I think she’ll need a friend—anyone would, faced with news like this.”

Ella knocked on the door, and within seconds a small, attractive Navajo woman in her forties answered. She was wearing a long,
loose skirt made out of corduroy and a simple, off-white wool pullover sweater. Her only jewelry was a strand of silver beads.

Emily Redhouse’s features were small and delicate, fitting her frame, and her large eyes a rich, dark brown with a charismatic sparkle that probably had an effect on men.

“Can we sit down?” Ella asked, identifying herself. Kevin just nodded reassuringly at her, having
met Mrs. Redhouse before, obviously.

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