Death Walker (6 page)

Determination shot through Ella like a bolt of electricity. “It won’t work.”

Carolyn glanced back down at the body beneath the sheet. “I’ll let you know the moment I finalize my report.”

Leaving Carolyn to her work, Ella walked out to the parking lot. She’d pick up the photographs from the crime scene if they were available, then head over to Clifford’s. If their family was going to come under
attack again, the sooner her brother knew what was going on the better things would be.

Ella drove directly to the station. As she parked in the small parking lot, she noted that Tache’s vehicle was one of those that remained. She was almost sure that Tache had developed the photos by now. He was one of the most efficient and hardworking cops around.

It was near dusk, that time in between light
and dark when shadows stretched almost to the horizon. Shifts had changed, and the office staff was long gone. Nerves stretched taut, she left her vehicle, automatically searching the area with the vigilance of a cop about to come under fire.

She walked directly to the back of the building where her small office was located. It had been Sergeant Peterson Yazzie’s once, but now it held only a
small desk with computer, her file cabinets, and a few mementos of her past. She’d hung her UNM diploma on one wall, and a shooting trophy she’d won during her days at the bureau was on a file cabinet. It was stark and utilitarian, but she was finally home. Her accomplishments in the outside world weren’t as important to her as that one fact.

Ella sat back in her chair organizing her thoughts.
As her gaze fell on the desk drawer, she felt a prickle of uneasiness. The drawer had been left partially open. She always shut things all the way, part of her predilection for order.

Ella pulled out the drawer slowly and carefully. It slid easily, and the contents didn’t appear to have been touched. Of course, anyone could have come in searching for a pencil, or a paper clip, or any of half
a dozen other things. She glanced down at the little box of clips. The lid was shut, just as she’d left it, and all of her pens and pencils seemed to be there.

Perhaps the person who’d been in her desk had left something behind instead. Ella thought for a moment, trying to remember the last time someone at the station had borrowed something of hers. Scanning the drawer, she noticed nothing new
among the supplies.

She reached underneath the drawer, running her fingers back and forth, remembering the time Blalock had bugged her mother’s home. Not feeling anything fastened there, she pulled the drawer out completely and set it on her desk.

Ella got down on her knees and looked into the open cavity where the drawer had been, running her hand over it. She really wasn’t sure if she was
being paranoid or just cautious, but after the murder she wasn’t about to get complacent about anything.

As she got to her feet, Ella noticed a thin, tan-colored, rectangular outline about an inch wide and four inches long on the back of the drawer. Touching the spot, her fingers detected the sticky residue left by a piece of masking tape. The residue was tacky enough to have been recent.

She
stood and surveyed the rest of the room. Something had been taped behind the drawer, out of sight. She considered the possibility that the previous tenant, Peterson Yazzie, had hidden something there.

Playing a hunch, Ella stretched to the right and looked down into the trash can beside the desk. Beside a few wadded-up balls of paper, a discarded piece of masking tape rested in the bottom. Taking
a pair of tweezers from the desk drawer, she retrieved the tape and studied it. There was an imprint etched into the sticky side. Ella recognized the pattern. It was the outline of a key. Now she knew why the intruder had come.

Turning the tape back and forth, she tried to guess what the key unlocked. It wasn’t a house key; it was the wrong shape. The impression was long and relatively narrow,
like that of a key used on a safety deposit box or a car. Perhaps lab experts could enhance the impression using laser technology and give her more information.

Ella carefully placed the tape into an empty computer disk box and placed a rubber band around it to hold the flap shut. Labeling and initialing the box, she placed it into a manila mail pouch. This had to be sent out for analysis tomorrow.
Only Peterson Yazzie or one of his skinwalker cohorts would have known about the key and been able to retrieve it right under the nose of the department.

Ella looked around, wondering what else had been touched, or tampered with. She searched the entire office methodically, going through every drawer, including underneath and behind each piece of equipment or furniture. Nothing seemed missing
or out of place. Finally all that was left to search was the closet. She opened the door and glanced inside, but what she saw made her jump back instinctively, reaching for her pistol.

Slowly Ella relaxed and returned the handgun to its holster. The small rattlesnake coiled on the floor of the closet was missing its head, and the smell told her it had been dead for hours.

Hearing footsteps coming
down the hall, Ella turned around. Tache stopped at her door, holding a manila folder in his hand. “What in the heck is that?” He stared at the snake with obvious distaste.

“A present,” Ella said in clipped tones. “Will you go and make sure all the evidence taken from the murder scene is secure?”

“I can assure you it is. It’s all kept in a vault, and any attempt to open it would be obvious.”

“Check anyway.”

Ella picked up the dead reptile with the mop handle, locked the door, and walked to the Dumpster outside. Snakes were said to be messengers, but the only message this one carried was the sign of death. By the time she returned, Tache was standing just outside her door, waiting.

“Everything’s accounted for,” he said.

“Good.” She unlocked the door, went back inside, and handed
him the envelope. “See if the experts can track down what kind of key this is.”

“I’ll make sure Ute gets it,” he assured her.

“And lock your offices from now on.” She glanced at the folder in his hand. “Do you have something for me?”

He nodded. “I developed the shots of the crime scene. I had a feeling you’d want to see them.”

“That’s why I came back,” she admitted. “Thanks for expediting
this. I especially need the shots of that dry painting done in ashes.”

He handed the file to her. “They’re in here along with the others. By the way, I took a real close look at it. I’m no expert, but I’ve studied our ways and I didn’t recognize any of the figures. Of course, that may just mean the killer’s a lousy artist.”

“Or the figures may not be traditional. I’m planning to look into it
tonight.”

“Will you let me know what you find out? I’m really curious.”

She nodded once. “Have we had any press nosing around yet? With the murder, then that bus accident, I expect a lot of traffic. But the reporters really shouldn’t get some of these details, especially the tribal newspapers. I want to release a prepared statement for them, and keep the details under wraps. I’m afraid people
will panic, and that’s the last thing we need.”

“Word has already started to spread. My cousin called earlier and wanted to know if the rumors that skinwalkers were behind the murder were true. Everyone’s scared. They think that evil is gaining strength now with one of our teachers dead. To many, that also explains the bus accident. The way I figure it, it’s just a matter of time before the press
shows up demanding answers we don’t have.”

“Okay, thanks for the warning. I better get to work on that release right away.”

“I have some books on dry paintings in my cubicle. You want me to bring them to you? I didn’t really have time to study them all, but you might be able to find some matches and decipher out what those figures mean.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll
be back in a minute.”

Ella sat down in front of her computer and began to draft a statement. Before long Tache returned holding two large volumes.

“These are out-of-print books that some anthropologists compiled many years back,” he said. “For generations our people relied solely on the spoken word and much has been lost. These are practically invaluable now.”

“I’ll take care of them, don’t
worry.” Ella took them from him carefully and returned to her desk.

Ella ceased work on the press release and began to look through the books. She was scarcely aware of the passage of time as she pored over the drawings. She searched methodically for similarities, taking into account the lesser skill of whoever had done the figures in ashes at the crime scene.

It was completely dark outside
by the time she finally stood up and stretched. There was no way around it. She’d given it her best shot, but none of the drawings in the book appeared to be even remotely like the figures in the ash dry painting. With reluctance, she picked out the close-up photos and stuck them inside a large manila envelope. Getting nonauthorized personnel involved in a case went against her training, but she needed
her brother’s help now.

When Ella walked across the building to the side entrance, only the dispatcher and a couple of evening-shift officers were still around.

As she stepped out the door, a flicker of movement caught her attention. A figure was walking between the few cars that were still parked outside. Halting in the shadows, Ella watched for several moments. The person was holding something
under his arm as he went from car to car, peeking inside. Ella slipped back inside and called out to the dispatcher sitting at the other end of the hall.

“Find another officer and have him join me in the parking lot. Someone’s sneaking around out there and I’m going to take a look.”

Leaving the envelope with the photos propped against the wall, Ella went back out noiselessly, intending to stalk
the stalker. It was a man; she was virtually certain of that from the way he walked. He was wearing a cowboy hat and that, coupled with the darkness, made it impossible for her to discern any details of his features. She inched closer, trying to get a better look at what he was holding. It wasn’t a gun. It was shaped like a small shoe box, or a loaf of bread.

As the figure came out into the open
briefly, the parking lot floodlight illuminated what it was that he carried. It appeared to be several sticks of dynamite bound together. Suddenly the figure ducked down, disappearing from her view.

Certain she’d been spotted, Ella moved in quickly, gun in hand. She checked underneath the cars as she moved. Her quarry’s feet would be visible from that angle, and she could use them to get a fix
on where he was heading.

Suddenly a flash of light from the building caught her attention. She saw two armed officers step out quickly and duck behind cover.

As she shifted her gaze back to the cars, she caught another flicker of movement and saw the figure dash away from the parking lot. One of the officers still standing near the doors yelled for him to stop and aimed a powerful flashlight
in his direction.

The elusive figure picked up speed instead, and Ella heard the thump of something hitting the pavement. The officers took off after him as Ella scrambled over to where the man had been to see what he’d dropped. Her breath caught in her throat as her worst suspicions were realized. Between two cars was the bundle of dynamite, held together with electrical tape. A digital timer
was connected to the primer and a flashlight battery with wires. She carefully lifted it so she could read the timer in the glare of the floodlight and was startled to see it was counting down. It had fifteen seconds to go.

“Bomb!” Ella yelled, in case any officers were still close by.

Holding her breath, she grabbed her folding pocketknife. With no time to decide if the bomb was booby-trapped,
Ella quickly slashed the wires leading to the battery. The timer went blank.

Feeling shaky all over, she leaned against the nearest car. This shouldn’t have happened, not here on the Rez. This was a big-city-type crime. She stared at the disabled bomb still in her hand, then set it down gingerly, trying not to disturb it any more than necessary.

Hearing footsteps rushing up from behind her,
she spun around and steadied her weapon against the hood of the car. The two Navajo cops stopped in their tracks.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Did you get him?” She moved toward them, motioning for them to keep their distance from the bomb, while keeping it in sight.

“No. He knows the terrain around here really well. Even in the dark, at a run, he chose the shortest way back to the road. He had a
pickup waiting.” The sergeant was talking to her, but his eyes were on the bomb.

“License plate?” she prodded.

“Too dark to make out.”

“Make and color?”

“Ford, late 1980s, tan color or close, and covered in dust.”

“Just like practically every other vehicle around here.”

“Yeah,” the sergeant answered.

The patrol officer’s gaze shifted from Ella to the bomb. “What do you think he was aiming
for? The station?”

Ella hesitated. “No. He was going through the vehicles here. I guess he was searching for one in particular.”

“Whose Jeep is this?” the patrol officer asked, gesturing to the one beside Ella.

“Mine.” Not giving them time to engage in any more speculations, she said, “I’ll stay here. Go call whoever handles ordnance disposal and get them over here.”

*   *   *

An hour later,
the bomb had been checked, photographed, and disassembled. Ella finished her report to Big Ed recommending security cameras be set up in the hallways leading to their offices and the evidence room. She’d also completed the carefully worded press release. With the bus accident, which had resulted in four deaths, the murder might get less attention, which would serve her purposes. For now she’d
keep the bone found in the victim’s eye a secret. The students probably had not taken a close enough look to have spotted it. Maybe later it would become her ace in the hole.

Ella sat back in her chair. She stared absently at a fly buzzing around the room. A moment later it landed on her shoulder. She stared at it, lost in thought. In ritual, Big Fly was said to have knowledge of many things
and places, since he was free to travel everywhere. He was said to warn and inform Holy Man.