Death Walker (22 page)

“Then this is the first time ever,” Ella smiled. “What’s really on your mind?”

Clifford gave her a quick half smile, then his face grew serious. “I’ve been thinking about that day when I told you to seek out the old Singer. Now he’s dead.”

“I know,” she said sadly. “The backlash already started too. There’s talk that our family brings trouble and
is responsible, directly or indirectly, for the tribe’s problems. The next thing you know, they’ll claim we’re responsible for the coal mines’ closing down.”

Clifford nodded. “Evil brings evil. All things are connected. What people don’t realize is that our family weighs in the scale for good. We are needed more than ever if balance is to be restored.”

Ella knew that her brother was referring
to more than the fact that they were honest people who fought on the side of right. His beliefs centered on the special abilities—gifts, some said—that they both possessed. But her intuition was based mostly on logic and training. Not wanting to argue, she let the matter drop.

“Your instincts tell you the murders are going to continue?”

She exhaled softly. “Unless I catch the killer, they will.”

“Do you have any leads?”

“Not usable ones. So far, everything points to Peterson, and he’s in custody. He knows something though. I’m going to have to try and get some more information from him.”

“He’ll give you enough to keep you coming back, but never enough to solve the crimes,” Clifford warned.

“So far that’s been the way it is. Any idea how I can trick him into making a mistake?”

“I don’t
think there is a way. Remember that although we both know a great deal about him, he also knows about us. And he has one advantage: he doesn’t care what happens to anyone else. To him, your desire to catch the killer before he strikes again makes you vulnerable. It also makes you susceptible to his deceptions.”

“Susceptible how?” Ella prodded, her gaze thoughtful.

“The more time you spend with
him, the more opportunities he’ll have to manipulate you. Soon he’ll get you used to making concessions in exchange for information. Nothing will happen abruptly, little sister, but he’s counting on a slow progression that will give him the opportunity he wants to strike back hard.”

“He’s already tried, and failed.” Ella told him quickly about the bomb in the car. “I can deal with him eye-to-eye,”
Ella assured him. “Now let’s change the subject for a moment, brother. Do you know Walter Billey?”

Clifford gave her a puzzled look. “I think you have the name wrong. There’s a Warren and a Wesley. Which one are you interested in?”

“Neither.” Ella passed the newspaper across the desk toward him. “Have you read this little gem?”

Clifford scanned it, but his expression remained calm. “There is
no Walter Billey. This phony letter was meant to stir up trouble. The newspaper publisher should know better than to print this without verifying the source.”

“That’s why I’m going to go talk to the newspaper editor. I believe there’s a good chance that this came from Peterson.”

“How can he get a letter out? Aren’t there restrictions on him?”

Ella explained. “The thing is, I don’t want to put
a stop to it. He may know something.”

“Then the progression I warned you about has already begun.” Without further word, Clifford walked out of her office.

Ella considered what her brother had said. He didn’t understand. She would use Peterson, not the other way around. She’d be on her guard.

Ella closed her office door and went down the hallway scarcely looking at the other officers along
the way. Ella stopped by Justine’s lab and peered inside. “I’m going to the newspaper office in Window Rock. I’ll be back in a couple of hours or so.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” Justine glanced up from the microscope.

“No, you can probably do more good here.”

Justine rubbed her eyes. “Don’t count on it. I got zip on the herbs in the medicine pouch. They’re mostly weeds with no use that
I’ve been able to discern. At least if it had been tree leaves, I could have considered the possibility that they had come from a tree struck by lightning—that makes sense and has a recognized use. Bits of pollen, soil, water—all those are tokens of power. But the stuff in this pouch was probably just grabbed off the ground as filler. I think there’s even potpourri in here, but I’m still checking
that out.”

“Another non-lead,” Ella muttered. “If they want us to believe in the validity of the clues they leave, why do they make such basic mistakes?”

“I’ve given this some thought. What if it’s not meant to mislead anyone except the general public? The perp may be counting on the gossip that flows naturally after each crime. Someone sees a medicine pouch, they tell someone else. But police
findings aren’t necessarily made public. The public may never know that it’s not a genuine medicine bundle. That may be precisely what our killer’s counting on.”

Ella considered Justine’s theory. “That’s Peterson Yazzie’s type of game. I feel him in this. Yet logic tells me that all he’s doing is trying to get some attention, and the extent of his involvement could be limited to his imagination.
Meanwhile, how are you coming with the evidence?”

“I’ll have a better handle on things by the time you get back. I’m going to be running the fingerprints I’ve lifted from the vehicles next. Some PD’s in our area have Descriptor Index files in their data banks. I can describe both murders, and if there’s a similar MO, then some of the data bases will supply me with fingerprints I may be able to
link to the crime we’re investigating. It’s a long shot, sure, but I figure it can’t hurt.”

“Keep up the good work,” Ella encouraged. “I’ll take care of the footwork while you track down things from your end.”

Ella went out to the parking lot and located her vehicle, a four-year-old generic Ford sedan, in gray. At least it had the proper equipment, and air-conditioning.

Ella started up the
unfamiliar vehicle, discovered the air conditioner really did work, and forced herself to concentrate on the facts they had on the case. Speculation on the extent of Peterson Yazzie’s involvement was distracting her from the main path of the investigation, she knew. Someone had murdered two of the tribe’s best cultural resources. That was the heart of the investigation. She had to let her instincts
take command and let the killer lead her back to Yazzie, if he was indeed part of all this.

Fifty minutes later, she pulled into the parking area of the newspaper’s Window Rock office. She walked inside, identified herself, then asked to see the editor-in-chief.

Jaime Beyale stepped out of the adjacent office and gestured for Ella to come inside. “Ella! I haven’t seen you in a good fifteen years.”
The woman smiled. “Of course you may remember me twenty pounds thinner.”

Ella grinned. “Jaime. You were the editor of the
Tomahawk,
our school paper, and now you’re the editor of the
Dineh Times.
Seems fitting.”

“Somehow I remember you as more of a homebody,” Jaime observed, “not as one of the People’s top cops.”

“Back then I was a lot more domestic,” Ella agreed. “But life has a way of changing
you.”

“Is it the editorial letter we printed that brings you here? It’s our policy never to print a letter unless we verify the source. But there was a slip-up. I had a call from Warren Billey because he wanted to know if there is some relative he didn’t know about.”

“Is that possible?”

“You tell me,” Jaime answered and slid a plain white envelope across the desk for Ella to see.

Ella saw
the Farmington postmark, and the handwriting. “I think I know who wrote this, and it wasn’t anyone in the Billey clan. Mind if I take it and check for fingerprints?”

“Not if you tell me what’s going on. Trade?”

Ella paused, considering the newspaper woman’s request. “Will you keep it under wraps for now?”

“If you’ll give me the rest of the story first, as soon as it breaks,” Jaime said.

“You’ve
got yourself a deal,” Ella agreed. “I visited Peterson Yazzie a few days ago. I have reason to believe that he wrote this, hoping the paper would print it after confusing the similar names.”

“Yazzie, why? I thought he was out of the picture now. Isn’t he?”

“He’s supposed to be getting psychiatric care, if that’s what you mean.”

“So now he’s trying to stir things up again?”

“I think that’s
part of his plan.”

“Well, that certainly explains the tone of the letter. I don’t think Peterson hates anyone as much as he hates your family.”

“Does Peterson Yazzie have any friends here on the Rez who you know about?”

“Not any who would stand up and be counted,” Jaime answered.

“Will you double-check any more letters that come in on this vein? I mean, if they’re legit, then it’s your call
on what to do, but it’s the bogus ones that I don’t think either of us needs.”

“You’ve got that right. Our newspaper’s reputation is on the line here. I’d like to print an editorial, challenging this impostor to come forward under his or her own name. That would, in a way, invalidate the impact of the letter we printed.”

Ella considered it, then shook her head. “It might stir up more questions
and keep the issue alive. That would only give Peterson more publicity in the long run. I’d rather you just let it drop for now.”

“All right. I’d hate to give Yazzie any more power and influence than he already has. There’s a lot of bad things happening to the People right now, and we can’t give him credit for that too.”

As Ella walked to her car, she had a good feeling about trusting Jaime.
She hadn’t disclosed any information that could jeopardize the investigation, but she sensed she had made a valuable ally.

As she started back, her radio crackled to life, and she heard her code coming through the air. When Ella picked up the mike and acknowledged the message, Justine’s voice came through clearly.

“Boss, I just found out something I think you need to know. My second cousin Leroy
Johnson is the postmaster at the Shiprock office. I was talking to him on the phone during my break, and he told me that the Singer’s family has taken the death harder than we expected. His daughter is taking her new baby and moving to Fort Defiance to be with her ‘little mother,’ you know, her mother’s sister. She left a change of address with him.”

Ella thanked her assistant. “I’ll go over
there now. Maybe I can talk them into staying until the case is closed.”

Ella went past the station and continued toward the remote community. It took her only half an hour at top speed, but by the time she arrived, the house was empty. Ella left the vehicle and glanced at the small sheep pen. All the animals were gone too. Ella walked to the house and peered inside the window. The curtains had
been taken down, and outlines remained on the wall where pictures had been.

Lois Mike saw her and came out. “They left this morning. The water in their well had dropped so low the pump wouldn’t draw up any water. They had to fill their jugs from my house. They took the sheep in the back of a pickup. They’re not coming back.”

“Where did they go?” Ella wanted to confirm what she’d heard earlier,
and if possible, nail down an address.

“Rosemary said that she was going to stay with her ‘little mother’ in Fort Defiance. She said she hated living here now. With the hogan there, all she could think of was her dad. She feels responsible, you know.”

“Why?”

“She thinks that if she hadn’t let you see her dad the day you came over, he might still be alive. She said she should have made sure
you never got within a mile of him.”

“She can’t believe that!”

“She’s not the only one who thinks like that around here,” Lois said, gesturing at the neighborhood. “They know you and I went to school together. They said if you came back, I should ask you to stay away from all of us. The water in their wells is dropping, too, and they think it’s part of the trouble.”

“How do
you
feel?” Ella
asked pointedly.

Lois shrugged. “I know you and your family are okay. But I’ve got to live here. These are my neighbors.”

Ella shook her head. “I’m sorry about the water problem. It’s not related to anything except a dry summer. And I can’t make a promise to stay away. I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

“I told them you’d say that,” Lois answered. “But you won’t find the killer here. Whoever
did that came from somewhere else. I know all these people.”

“Do you have any idea how often a cop hears those same words? Many times the killer turns out to be someone from across the street who seems perfectly normal in front of his neighbors. You watch the news, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I understand what you’re saying, but it’s not anyone in this community. What you’re talking about happens
in places where the neighbors don’t really know each other, except maybe when they pass one another on the way to a mailbox. It’s different for us here. Everyone knows everyone else, and the wives talk a lot among themselves. I know each time Janet has a fight with her husband and what they argue about. I know when Betty’s boy colics and when Mary Ann’s husband comes home drunk. There are no secrets
here.”

Ella knew there was a certain amount of truth in what Lois was saying, but she also knew that secrets could be kept from husbands, wives, and neighbors for a lifetime.

Ella returned to her car, acutely aware that almost everyone here was avoiding her. They were staying inside as if she had the plague.

Ella drove directly to the Shiprock post office. She wanted to look up Leroy Johnson.
Thirty minutes later, as she walked inside, she noted that the lobby was virtually empty. Good. She wanted to ask a favor, and the fewer people who knew she had even come here, the better it would be.

Ella found Leroy behind the counter. Although she hadn’t seen him for ages, there was no need to introduce herself.

“I’ve been postmaster here for the last twenty years,” he said with a kind smile.
“There are few people I don’t know.”

She studied his salt-and-pepper hair, tied back in traditional style, and his weathered and lined face. He was thin, but at fifty looked as fit as most twenty-year-olds. “I need a favor, Uncle,” she said quietly. “I want you to keep an eye out for any personal mail that comes to me, particularly anything without a return address. Instead of sending it with
the regular carrier, will you keep it here and call me?”