Blackening Song (35 page)

Wilson stepped out of a thicket of junipers, rifle still smoking. His eyes were narrowed, and he stared at the corpse before him transfixed. “I couldn’t let him kill you,” he finally managed.

Stunned, Ella walked over to Randall Clah’s body and took the shotgun. Outrage, and a sense of being cheated, spiraled through
her, choking the air in her lungs. It shouldn’t have ended like this. Justice hadn’t been served. The law enforcement system he had betrayed should have had the final word, not a carefully aimed bullet.

Her father-in-law had understood nothing about her family. Her family had never coveted power. Randall Clah was a prime example of why they’d done their best to avoid it. And as far as her own
so-called powers, they were those of any seasoned law enforcement officer. Randall had given his life for nothing at all.

Bitterness filled her, but she forced it aside as her instincts came back in a rush. Ella glanced around warily. “The other two are doubling back,” she said quietly.

Blalock rushed toward them and spoke reassuringly. “No, they’re long gone, along with the two we stunned with
the flash-bangs. The guys in the pickup saw the chief fall, then hauled their buddies into the truck and took off like a lightning bolt. I was too far away to try for a shot. I would have gone after them, but…” He glanced back at the hogan. “Paul’s gone for help. We need a medical team.” He cleared his throat. “I bandaged him and stayed with him while Paul freed Loretta, but I think it’s already
too late.”

“My brother is dead?” Ella’s voice came out a broken whisper, and suddenly she was empty inside.

Blalock hesitated, his face lined with strain. “I hit him square in the side. How was I supposed to know he’d be there? I knew it wasn’t one of us, and hell, it didn’t look like him!”

“I know what happened. Don’t blame yourself.”

From the look on his face, Blalock had expected recrimination
or rage from her, and her calm answer had stunned him. “How did he know we were going to be here? Was he behind his own wife’s kidnapping?”

Ella suppressed a desire to shake Blalock. “You’re putting it together all wrong. As usual.” Now her tone was razor sharp, and he flinched.

Ella joined Loretta, who was kneeling beside Clifford and holding his hand. Although her brother’s eyes were closed,
and his chest scarcely moved, Ella knew he would be all right. She sighed audibly in relief. The wound was serious, but her conviction was nothing short of certainty. It might have been wishful thinking, or a conclusion drawn from instinct, based on experience. Still, she knew her brother would live.

Loretta glanced at Ella, tears in her eyes. “He came for me. I knew he would.”

Ella placed a
hand on Loretta’s shoulder. The naked sorrow on her face made her ache with compassion. “He will be all right,” she assured her sister-in-law. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

“He has to be,” Loretta answered, lifting Clifford’s hand and brushing it with a kiss. “He just has to.”

As fear for her brother faded, confidence filled Ella. She pulled Blalock aside, anger and
determination blending to a lethal combination in her mind. “If the chief was involved, others high up in the department may be part of this as well. We have to keep everything under wraps for now.”

“We need reinforcements.”

“We bring in outsiders, and the perpetrators will go to ground. We’ll never find them. We can’t let that happen.” She considered it carefully. “On paper, Clifford was the
man you were after, right?”

“The initial evidence all pointed to him. You’ve got to admit—”

Ella held up a hand, interrupting him. “Report the shooting. Tell them you’re unable to get answers from Clifford, and you’ve placed his wife in protective custody since she’s a witness. They’ll come after her, count on it.” She’d started to say more when they heard the wail of the emergency vehicle.

Wilson stayed with Ella while Blalock went to guide them in. “Clifford was at your mother’s when I went for Paul,” Wilson confessed. “He knew something was wrong, and your mother confirmed it. I had to tell him what we were planning. It was his right to know.”

Familiar doubts crowded in her mind, but she tried to dismiss them. It was hard to keep anything from Clifford. Once he decided to wring
information from a person, he always succeeded. He’d done it to her often enough when they were growing up.

“What I don’t understand,” Ella said slowly, “and find hard to forgive, is that you didn’t tell me he would be here. How could you have withheld something as vital as that?”

“I intended to tell you, but I wanted to do it privately. I was afraid Blalock would try to arrest him and blow
everything.”

Ella stared off into the distance, trying to get her temper under control. She didn’t need anger to confuse her thinking. She needed cold rationality. “We’ll discuss this later,” she said coldly.

Ella saw Chester Bowman emerge from the rescue squad vehicle and breathed a sigh of relief. The Bowmans had been friends of her family for generations. She would be able to get a special
favor from him.

Ella went to Loretta and whispered a few quick words in her ear. Loretta nodded, then got up and took Blalock aside. Ella crouched beside Chester, who was just opening the medical kit. His partner was retrieving other supplies from the squad vehicle.

“He’ll make it,” Chester assured her.

“Not if his enemies find him again. That’s why I need you to do something,” she said.

Chester regarded her with interest, but said nothing. The lines around his eyes sharpened.

“I need you to pronounce him dead in front of FB-Eyes,” Ella said. Blalock wouldn’t go along with her if he thought Clifford was still alive.

Chester nodded slowly. “I’ll do it. Your brother healed my mother and my little brother. I’m glad for the chance to help him. My partner will go along with it too.
I’ll tell him in our language, so FB-Eyes won’t understand.”

He tended the wound as best he could, then spoke hurriedly to his assistant in Navajo. The men appeared to work urgently for several minutes. Finally Chester stood with a somber air and sent his assistant to retrieve a sheet from the ambulance. “We have to take him to the morgue. He’s dead.”

Blalock’s face went as white as chalk. He
stared at the body as the EMTs covered it with the sheet. Ella could feel his tension. This could mean the end of his career with the bureau.

“We’ll get through this, Blalock. It wasn’t your fault. But you’ve got to keep Loretta in protective custody. That’s the only chance you’ll have to explain what happened here. Take Paul with you too, to help. I doubt he’d leave her with anyone else right
now anyway.”

Blalock nodded robotlike, as if he was glad to follow someone else’s lead. “There’ll be a review board about this shooting. I have to find answers for them.”

Ella could taste the bitter sorrow of a man who saw a lifetime of effort eradicated by one single moment. As far as Blalock was concerned, Ella was the best person to explain Clifford’s abilities with disguises, back up Blalock’s
story, and justify the shooting.

Ella led the way to her truck, pulled out some gear, then handed Blalock the keys. “Pick up Paul, then take Loretta to my mother’s home. She’ll help you. Drive my sister-in-law off the reservation, up to Durango. Stay at the ski lodge. And try to get my mother to go with you. Tell her about my father-in-law’s involvement if you have to. Tell her not even the police
can be trusted. I can’t guard her now. If all else fails, get Paul and Loretta to help kidnap her.”

“How long do you want us to stay undercover?”

He hadn’t questioned her orders, just the particulars. Now she’d be able to count on him. Fear was a great motivator. “A few days, no more. I’ll get word to you as soon as possible. If you have to stay somewhere else, leave a message telling me where
I can reach you.”

As Blalock left with Loretta, Ella returned to the emergency vehicle. Clifford needed medical attention, but she wasn’t sure how to get it for him under the circumstances. “How’s he doing?”

Chester pulled the sheet away from Clifford’s face. “He doesn’t need my help,” Chester said, his voice filled with awe. “His body is healing itself.”

“What do you mean?”

Chester lifted
one end of the bandage taped loosely over the wound. Although her brother had taken a nine-millimeter round through his side, the bleeding had already stopped. Chester opened his palm and showed her the bullet. “His body, or the movement of carrying him, pushed the bullet right out. When my partner and I placed him in the ambulance, I checked the wound again and found this on the surface.”

Ella
stared down at her brother. He was unconscious, but his breathing was even. “He needs careful nursing, and time to heal. Like this, he’s easy prey. I’m not sure where to hide him so he’ll be safe.”

“Will you trust him to me?” Chester asked. “I can take him to my mother’s. She’ll know what to do.”

Angela Bowman had taught Rose Destea all she knew about herbs. She was traditionalist, and fiercely
loyal to what Clifford had been trying to do. “That’s an excellent idea,” she agreed. “But how will you explain this emergency call to your superiors?”

“False alarm,” he answered with a shrug. “We’ll bring back doughnuts and everyone will be satisfied.”

Ella gave him a grateful smile. “I won’t forget this.”

Ella watched the emergency vehicle until it disappeared from sight. “It’s just you and
me now,” she said to Wilson.

“I know.”

“Do you regret your involvement with my family?” she asked, holding his gaze.

“No, not at all. Your family may be the target now, but the threat is to all of us,” Wilson answered. “To be honest, I’m not a fighter by nature. I’m glad I’m an academician. In my world, intellect rules; the environment is more civilized, gentler. Had this issue not endangered
the very people whose children I hope to teach, I would have done my best to avoid the entire thing. But there are some things worth fighting for.”

“Yes, you certainly can be quite a fighter at times,” she said warily.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I saw how you handled yourself at the chapter house, and I’ve heard of another instance too.”

“Like when?”
he asked, puzzled.

“Peterson mentioned he had to pull you off someone once,” she said, keeping her voice casual.

“Oh, that!” Wilson answered. “He still holds a grudge because I wouldn’t tell him what was going on, and my cousin wouldn’t either.”

“Your cousin?”

“Yeah, Aunt Emma’s kid. He’d been breaking into cars and I caught him. We’d tried everything else to get him to stop. Had the police
caught him, they’d have sent him to jail as a repeat offender, so I decided I’d do what his own father would have done, had he been alive. I tossed the kid around, tried to scare the living daylights out of him. Then Peterson showed up. Neither of us was going to tell him what was going on.” Wilson paused. “I’m not surprised he remembered, but why tell you?”

She shrugged, weighing what he’d told
her. It made sense. “Right now we’ve got more immediate problems.” She shook her head slowly. “My father-in-law’s involvement has really thrown me!”

“He was a very persuasive man, a natural leader. If he chose that path, you can be sure he talked plenty of others into following him. Do you have a plan?”

“For starters, we need everyone to believe that Clifford is dead. I’m hoping that’ll make
the skinwalkers less guarded. They won’t be as well organized, having lost their leader, and I want to take advantage of it. With luck, they’ll start to make mistakes when I push them a little.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“Everyone in the department, guilty or innocent, will be looking for the chief. How do you plan to get around that?”

“I’ll have Blalock call the department and say that
he and the police chief are checking some out-of-town leads. Those who aren’t involved in what happened here will believe him. The others, who know the real story from the two who escaped, will start getting nervous.

“I’m betting that they’ll think that the chief is still alive, being held under guard in a medical facility. Before taking the offensive though, they’ll search for ways to strengthen
themselves ceremonially, like using Clifford’s body to make a medicine bundle. My guess is that they’ll go straight to my family’s traditional burial ground.”

“But there’s no body…” His eyes grew wide, guessing her plans. “Your mother will never consent.”

“I’m not going to tell her. In fact, I haven’t told anyone this part of my plan, except you.”

“When do you want to do this?” Wilson asked.

“You and I will take my father-in-law’s body. After I telephone Blalock at my mother’s, we’ll head for the bluffs. If we go the long way, the trip will take half a day, if not more. That’ll give Randall’s men enough time to get the news and head out there. With luck, they’ll see us burying the body, believe it’s Clifford, and that their plans are working.”

Ella walked to the chief’s body. She
had no desire to touch the corpse. Whether she believed in magic or not, the thought of encountering the
chindi
of someone this twisted gave her the creeps. “We don’t have a choice,” she whispered, mostly for her own benefit.

“No, we don’t.” Wilson glanced down at the man he’d killed, then turned away with a grimace. “I’ll go get something to wrap the body in.”

Ella stood alone and looked down
at the remains of Randall Clah as the first rays of dawn spilled over the Chuska mountains. “In your own way, you underrated the powers of evil. It destroyed you long before you were dead.”

TWENTY-TWO

It was shortly after two
P.M
. when Ella pulled her father-in-law’s body closer to the large hole they’d dug. It repulsed her to wrap in a blanket that had belonged to her brother the body of the man who’d betrayed them. The ceremonial blanket, in natural colors of walnut, tobacco, and tan, had taken Clifford six months to weave. Ella was sure that anyone watching would recognize the
distinctive diamonds within diamonds pattern, bordered in bold stripes, as her brother’s handiwork.