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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

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“My great-grandfather killed his sister after they
had shared the same blanket. He hung himself when people found out.” Rose paused, then added, “The gifts you and your brother have been given are, by far, the strongest any of us have ever had. Your brother is a healer, and your intuition will never fail you. But the others who watch you and him see only an even bigger threat of darkness and it frightens them.”

“Why did you want me to learn about
herbs?” Ella asked, suddenly aware of the connection she shared with Mist Eagle.

“I was hoping you and your brother would work together someday. Your knowledge and intuition, along with his gift for healing, would make both of you a formidable force for good. That would put an end to the part of the legacy that feeds on their fears and makes them watch you.”

“Clifford and I don’t see eye to
eye on many things, Mom, but we’re allies in a crunch. Remember how we worked together to clear his name and catch our father’s murderer? And look what happened today.”

“People will only remember that he had to hide from you when your father was killed years ago, and that, today, you arrested your brother. They’ll begin looking closer at both of you, trying to judge who will turn to evil.”

“Neither of us will. That’s ridiculous,” Ella said, then, seeing the hurt look on her mother’s face, wished she could take back the words. “Mom, I know you believe in this legacy, but trust me. There are a lot of discrepancies in this. I have no special gifts. I’m just a cop with very good training and excellent survival instincts.”

“You still believe that in spite of all that’s happened to you
in the past?”

“I love you, Mom, but you better accept the fact that my intuitions are generally right because they’re based on knowledge, observation, and training. Being a cop means listening to everything around you and being alert. It’s not a gift, its my job. I’m no different from any other experienced cop.”

“No, you’re wrong about that, and in the next few months it’ll become obvious even
to you.”

Ella looked at her mother and saw her knowing smile. Her mom knew about the baby. Ella was certain of it. The secret she’d hoped to keep, at least until she spoke to Kevin, was no longer completely her own. And, somehow, that didn’t surprise her.

SIX

Ella parked at the mouth of the canyon where their family shrine was located. They were in the foothills of the mountains along the northwestern border of New Mexico. The track ended here, so they’d have to walk the rest of the way. As she switched off the ignition, Ella gave her mother a long look. “Okay, Mom. How did you find out?”

“That you’re pregnant? Did you really think you could
keep a secret like that from me?” Rose said. “I’m your mother.”

And that was all the explanation needed. For once she understood her mom perfectly. They knew each other far too well for secrets.

Ella let her mother lead the way, setting her own pace. Rose was still using the cane, but today she employed it more for leverage than support as they climbed. Her limp had all but vanished.

After
a difficult fifteen-minute hike, they arrived at a cairn of rocks nestled in a crevice within the canyon wall. “My brother has his son and I’ll have my child,” Ella said. “That will make a total of two. Maybe people will cut us some slack and relax now.”

“I doubt it,” Rose said, stopping in front of the shrine.

For a long moment, Rose stood there with her eyes closed in prayer. Then she placed
an offering of pollen and a small piece of turquoise on the rocks. “I’ve asked the gods to bring you health and good fortune. I chose my offerings carefully, too, so they’ll accept them and do as I’ve asked.”

Ella nodded. Unlike the way it was in other belief systems, a Navajo invoked the aid of his gods by compelling them to obey. The
Dineh
never humbled themselves, believing their gods wouldn’t
respect a request made from weakness.

“Have you told your child’s father yet?” Rose asked on her way back.

“No.”

“Will he want to marry you?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to marry him.”

Rose nodded once. “That’s just as well. He wouldn’t have been a good husband to you,” she said. “He’s well respected, but he’ll always value his place within our tribe more than he will you or the baby.
Most of his clan seems to be like that.”

“You know who he is?”

“Of course. The lawyer who lives just south of here. As I said, he’s not the husband for you.”

Irritated, Ella didn’t look at her mother. Rose was right of course, but she hated hearing it put so bluntly.

Later, as they rode back to the highway, Ella’s thoughts continued to circle endlessly in her mind, raising more questions than
answers.

“There’s something I should warn you about,” Rose said, interrupting her thoughts. “The lawyer is aware of our family’s history. His grandmother is a traditionalist and, of course, there’s the matter of his clan…”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with his clan?”

“His clan and ours haven’t mixed in many years. They were responsible for running Mist Eagle out, and when your great-grandfather
killed his sister and himself, it was their clan who stood against our family, making our lives even more difficult. Whether your baby’s father has told you or not, I know he’s heard stories about us. I really doubt he’ll be happy to hear the news that you’re pregnant.”

The knowledge stung. She wasn’t sure what she expected from Kevin, but the truth was she couldn’t imagine anyone turning away
from their own child. “He still deserves to know.”

“Yes, he does,” Rose conceded. She paused for a long time, then continued. “Just remember, no matter what happens between you two, your child is a blessing. Your baby will enrich your life in ways you never even dreamed possible. You’ll become a new person, even to yourself.”

“This child is already precious to me,” Ella said quietly. “I intend
to be a good mother to her.”

“I know,” Rose said. “You and I will raise her together. We’ll deal with things one day at a time.”

Ella noted that neither of them disputed the fact that the baby would be a girl. She smiled. This was one time when not being able to explain something logically made absolutely no difference. She knew what she knew, and that was enough.

By the time they returned
home, it was late and the tensions of the day had taken a toll on Ella. She sat in the kitchen, snacking on some cold cereal.

“Will you call the station and make sure your brother is okay?”

“I was going to do that before I went to bed. I would have preferred going by, but I’m just too tired to drive right now unless it’s an emergency. But don’t worry. Kevin’s taking care of things.”

“After
what I’ve told you about that clan, you still trust him?”

“Yes, Mom, I do. Kevin’s not like that.” She could see disbelief in her mother’s face, but she held her ground. “He’s an honest man, and that’s saying a lot about a lawyer. And, like me, he’s driven to succeed at whatever he’s doing. You can trust him if for no other reason than the fact he’s extremely competitive and doesn’t allow obstacles
to remain in his way for long. He’ll see to it that my brother is released.”

Rose nodded. “Not the best reason to believe in someone, maybe, but a good one. Now I’m going to bed. That walk today really tired me out.”

As Rose ambled down the hall, Ella picked up the phone. Clifford was probably home by now, but she had to check. There were no sure things in the legal system, even with Kevin at
the helm. She’d sounded certain for her mother’s benefit, but the more she thought about it, the less sure she felt.

Ella spoke to the desk sergeant and identified herself.

“Your brother is still here. There’s some paperwork we need to complete, but it’s a matter of finding the forms, and getting the right signatures. That’s all.”

“That’s it? There are no other problems?”

“It’s a bureaucratic
hold up, nothing more. I wish you would talk to Mr. Tolino before he tries to sue the department.”

Ella smiled. “No, I think I’ll let him handle things on his own. Good-night, Sergeant.”

S
EPTEMBER
11
TH

Ella left for work early the next morning. She’d called Clifford late last night, and was surprised this morning when she checked back at the station and found he was still in jail. They’d only
spoken a few minutes. Apparently Kevin had threatened to sue everyone if he wasn’t released by eight
A.M.
Paperwork was the bane of everyone’s existence in the department, but it was worse than usual now, because several of the office staff were transferring their equipment and supplies to the new substation.

Ella tried to stop by Clifford’s cell, but the officer on duty turned her away. Kevin
had left word that no cops were to get near his client until he was released.

Ella returned to her desk and, as she looked down at her in-basket, noticed that Carolyn’s autopsy report had been delivered. She skimmed it quickly, searching for the highlights. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for. Hansen had probably been murdered. The first bullet had struck him hard enough to have
knocked him unconscious, in Dr. Roanhorse’s opinion. There was also a portion of his left hand without blood or tissue splatter marks.

Carolyn had said that the absence of spray indicated that part of his hand had been covered when the fatal shot was fired, almost as if someone had forced his hand over the weapon and then held it in place. The trigger finger had been covered as well, leading
Carolyn to speculate that perhaps someone had helped Hansen commit suicide. That, however, still made it murder, particularly because, in Carolyn’s opinion, Hansen had been unconscious at the time someone placed his hand on the pistol and pushed his finger down on the trigger.

She had started to read more when the phone rang. It was Sheriff Taylor.

“I need to meet with you,” he said. “Your office
or mine? We can discuss the case first, then I’d like to go over to LabKote.”

“Why don’t we meet halfway then? It’ll give us a jump start on things. But first, let me fax you a copy of the ME’s report so you can get up to speed.”

“Fine by me. As soon as it comes in, I’m off.”

Ella wrote instructions for Justine to roust some of the women involved in the livestock killings, and bring one or
two in for questioning. After leaving the note on Justine’s desk, she set out.

Twenty minutes later, Ella reached a wide spot beside the road just east of Hogback. Sheriff Paul Taylor was leaning against his squad car, reading from a pocket-sized notebook. As she got out to meet him, she noted the edge of wariness on his face.

“I got your message about Herder and I’ve been following up on it
by speaking to some of the Anglos who live off the reservation. When he came in to report the body, witnesses who saw him said he was almost sick. Nobody noticed any trace of blood on him or his hands either, and he would have picked up some splatter if he’d been close to the victim when the second shot was fired. It was a contact wound, with the pistol placed against the victim, according to your
ME. That puts Herder in the clear. Everything else I’ve got so far is hearsay. Hansen was friends with a Jerry Warren, who also works at LabKote. He lives in Waterflow and I tracked him down and spoke to him. Turns out that Hansen was having some crazy things happen to him lately.”

“Crazy how?”

“A pile of broken sticks was left on his doorstep.”

Ella gave him a surprised look. “It’s a Navajo
custom that’s supposed to bring bad luck.”

“Another time someone broke into his house, but they didn’t take anything. What they did do was move his bedroom furniture around.”

“What?”

“As I said, just crazy.”

“What direction was the bed facing when he found it?”

“The direction it’s in now. It’s against the north wall. I understand he didn’t bother to move things back. He figured it was kids
playing around.”

“Maybe so, but that’s got a Navajo signature. It’s said that if you sleep with your head pointing north, you’re risking death. It’s linked to our custom of burying our dead with their heads facing north.”

“I have no idea what we’re really dealing with here,” Taylor said finally, “but the one connection that remains constant is LabKote and the reservation. I tried contacting
Landreth this morning, but he’s ducking me.”

“What did you need from him?” Ella asked.

“I was hoping to come up with a motive that would explain Hansen’s death. I figured we might find a lead if we looked through any personal files Hansen had in his computer. Jerry Warren told me Hansen often E-mailed his wife and friends from his terminal at work.”

“Let’s go over to LabKote together,” she
said. “An impromptu visit from an officer of the tribe they lease land and property from might persuade them to cooperate.”

Ella led the way to LabKote with the sheriff following in his unit. When they reached the parking area beside the gate, Ella got out of her vehicle. An armed security guard came out of the small booth as they approached. Ella flashed her badge, but he didn’t seem overly
impressed by her or the uniformed sheriff.

“I’ll have to call the plant supervisor before I can let you or the sheriff in, ma’am,” he told her. “You’ll also need to be provided with an escort. We don’t allow any unrestricted access to this facility.”

Ella nodded. “Get to it then. We don’t have all day.”

The guard called in the request on a handheld radio, then turned back to her and the sheriff.
“You both will be met by Doctor Landreth shortly.”

While they waited, Ella took the opportunity to tell Taylor about her visit with Walter Morgan at his apartment, including what she’d learned about his and Landreth’s backgrounds.

“I’m not surprised Morgan is ex-military. A lot of ex-soldiers end up doing security work or joining law enforcement.”

After five minutes passed, Ella found herself
growing impatient, and spoke to the guard. “Will you contact Dr. Landreth again? We all have schedules around here.”

BOOK: Shooting Chant
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