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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

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BOOK: Shooting Chant
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Ella knew her attackers would probably assume she’d head for her
Jeep to rearm herself with a shotgun or rifle, then come back after them after she’d called for backup.

What the perps had no way of knowing was that she still had her backup pistol. That, along with the element of surprise, were her biggest advantages now. Ella came out on the opposite bank, and took cover until she had her derringer out of her boot. It was wet, but clear of debris, so it would
fire safely.

Then, using the dense vegetation and river noise to hide her, she moved back up the river. It took fifteen minutes of hard running, and careful, slow stalking to reach the area where she’d been ambushed. She knew the terrain here, and now the men were in front of her not behind her. Moving double time, she hoped to catch up and surprise them.

Although the demanding pace helped warm
her chilled body, she couldn’t stop trembling every time the breeze came up. Focusing away from her discomfort, she kept her mind on the trail. She pushed herself to the limit, but it wasn’t long before she had to admit defeat. Freshly crumbled marks up on the hillside told her that the men had climbed back onto the mesa. It looked like they’d assumed she’d gone for help and decided to cut and
run.

Spirits low, she returned to the ambush site, found her handheld radio, and called in a report of the incident. After locating her handgun in a clump of tall grass, she checked the weapon to make sure that it was still loaded, the bore was clear, and the action functioned properly. Then she placed it back in her holster. At least one thing had gone in her favor. The sample vials inside the
plastic bag were still in her pocket, and hadn’t come open.

Ella went back to her Jeep, taking a different route in the unlikely event the men were planning a trap for her there. Looking around carefully, she approached the vehicle from behind. The area seemed deserted.

Ella’s clothing had nearly dried off, at least on the surface, but her body wouldn’t stop shaking and the tips of her fingers
were numb with cold. Unwilling to take chances, she forced herself to ignore her need for warmth and methodically checked the Jeep for tampering before climbing inside.

Five minutes later, the heater on full blast, she headed for home, which was not only closer than her office, but also held a change of fresh, warm clothes.

*   *   *

An hour later, Ella sat in her office with Justine, writing
her report of the incident. The samples they’d gathered were on their way, and the map was spread out on a table in Justine’s lab, drying.

“I’m glad it was you instead of me, Ella. I’ve never been much of a swimmer—let alone with my clothes on.” Justine sat across from Ella’s desk, folding and unfolding the receipt for the FedEx package that had just gone out.

“It was more a matter of letting
the current take me and holding my breath,” Ella admitted.

“You could have been killed, or cut to ribbons by those guys,” Justine said somberly. “We have officers on alert, but other than what they were wearing, we have zip to look for.”

“They were after me, and wanted to put me away for good without making a lot of noise that would carry toward town. What bugs me is that either the perps knew
where I was headed, or they were able to follow me and I never saw them.”

“The terrain leading up to the bluffs is wide open. I doubt they could have been too close.” Justine pointed out.

“I wonder if the guard at LabKote tipped someone off to what we were doing, and they were afraid of what I’d find near the water. Or does that sound a bit thin?”

“There were others who knew we’d be in the
area,” Justine said. “Remember the gathering at Jesse Woody’s house? That was when you agreed to run the tests.”

“I know, and that group included my brother and Billy Pete.” Ella noticed how Justine cringed when she’d mentioned Billy. “But the Fierce Ones wouldn’t have done this. They would have realized that if anything happened to me down by the river, they would become prime suspects. It’s
too obvious.”

“What other suspects
do
we have? Not the tribal politicians. That isn’t their style,” Justine said. “But, like you, I seriously doubt that the Fierce Ones had anything to do with this. It’s so obvious it smacks more of a frame, or dumb coincidence.”

“There’s another possibility,” Ella said slowly. “Do you think somebody is framing them, instead of the other way around?”

“That
could very well be,” Justine answered.

“If we could only figure out why somebody is trying to get me out of the way permanently, I have a feeling our investigative trails would converge and narrow.” Ella wished her so-called legacy was as powerful as some thought and could show her the truth, but no revelations seemed forthcoming.

“Well,” Justine pointed out, “at least the samples we took are
on their way for testing, and we’ve been promised a twenty-four-hour turnaround on the preliminary results. Soon we’ll find out if there’s anything out there to worry about.”

Ella looked at the report she’d been working on, trying to remember where she’d left off. Big Ed had asked for paperwork on everything, and oral reports on the kidnapping, and she was already way behind.

“Shorty, time to
talk.” Big Ed came into her office. “And you, too, Officer Goodluck. I’d like someone to explain why this department has all of a sudden become the Environmental Protection Agency. I got a strange call from LabKote about your activities and I checked it out. What’s with these soil samples and dead birds you’re sending off to be tested?”

“I’m responsible for the tests,” Ella said. “We’re trying
to find out if LabKote, or someone else, has contaminated the fairgrounds area. If there’s something criminal going on there, we need to know fast. The traditionalists are starting to label the place ‘evil.’”

She explained what Clifford had told her about Lilly Mae Atso and her goats, and the effect the fairgrounds seemed to have on those who’d been there at the animal husbandry show. Ella also
mentioned Kyle Hansen’s death as a possible related event.

“We need to find a motive for the murder of Kyle Hansen,” Ella said. “As I’ve indicated in my reports, we’ve pretty much concluded that it was no suicide. One possibility, when we look at some of the animal mutations around here and the reports of irrational behavior by those who attended the show, is that an environmental agent is responsible.
If Hansen knew about a spill of some kind and threatened to blow the whistle … Well, that sort of thing has happened before though, admittedly, not here.”

“Clifford’s opinions may have validity at some level,” Big Ed agreed. “I’ll reserve further judgment for a while since gathering those samples almost cost you your life down by the river, but be careful what you’re stirring up. What ends up
coming to the surface may not be what you expected and surprises can get you killed.”

Big Ed lowered his voice. “In line with your brother’s comments about the evil in the fairgrounds, what about our old enemies, the skinwalkers? They’re dark witches who, by their very nature, thrive on chaos. They’ve marked you for death. Do you suppose the ones who made it out alive after our raid last year
are trying to retaliate? Creating trouble at the fairgrounds may just be a side benefit for them.”

“I’d been wondering about that as well, Ella,” Justine said. “Two men tracking you, then attacking with knives sounds like a more traditional approach to murder. Could skinwalkers be on your trail? If so, this may have nothing to do with our current investigations.”

“The attack on me by the river
felt more like a military operation than one I would associate with our people. No illusions, no magic or Navajo-sounding words, were used against me—only stealth. And, let me remind you, we still don’t know if the ones after me are Anglo or Navajo.”

“I’ve heard that you and Clifford aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye lately,” Big Ed said.

The chief’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t fool her. He was
thinking of the legacy. She could sense it as clearly as she could the breeze coming in through the open window.

“What are you saying—that he was one of the two men?” She shook her head. “You know better than that. He’ll defend himself and others, but he would
never
attack anyone.”

“Some might say that it’s possible he sees you as a threat to our tribe and acted in its defense.”

Anger twisted
through Ella. “My brother would never harm me, and this type of speculation is ridiculous. If you’re going by the legacy, then trust the instincts I’m supposed to have. He is
not
involved. Besides, I know the way he moves through the brush. I’d never have heard him coming at all.”

Big Ed nodded. “Okay, Shorty. I just wanted to see for myself where you stood on that.”

“Whatever mistakes my brother
may have made associating with that vigilante group, he’s no danger to any of us,” Ella said firmly.

“All right. Then let’s stay on track. We have to find Senator Yellowhair and we have to find him alive. I suggest you two concentrate on that, and let this bird pollution thing run its course. Kyle Hansen is already dead, I’m sorry to say, but, hopefully, the same isn’t true for the senator.”

After Big Ed left, Justine gestured to the report she’d left on Ella’s desk. “That’s something you should read right away,” she said, then returned to her office.

Ella studied the report filed by Harry Ute and Justine. After reading about their latest find, she telephoned Blalock immediately.

“My people located a bullet from the sniper attack on us,” Ella said. “Harry got hold of a better metal
detector, went back on his own, and found a full-metal-jacketed 30–06 bullet, pretty much intact. It even had a paint scrape that matches your car.”

“Was your lab tech able to get a manufacturer?” Blalock asked.

“Yes, but it won’t be much help. Justine found that the bullet is old U.S. military surplus, and could have come from almost anywhere. She pointed out that rifles have been chambered
to that caliber since around 1906, and you know how common they are among hunters around here.” Ella knew her brother and father had both hunted with 30–06 rifles, and she’d fired the weapon as well. They were almost as common as 30–30 Winchesters on the Rez.

“So, we’re going to have to find the weapon actually used against us before we can match the bullet,” Blalock grumbled. “Peachy.”

They
discussed the frustrating lack of evidence linking Branch or any other suspects to the kidnapping. “The kidnappers have made no new demands,” Ella said, “but I bet they’re watching the paper to see when the list they want will be printed.”

“They’ll have a long wait. We’ll keep monitoring Mrs. Yellowhair’s phone, and hope somebody decides to call her,” Blalock said. “I’m still interviewing Yellowhair’s
contacts and associates but, so far, I’ve got nothing new. Officer Goodluck passed me a tip that Avery Blueeyes is at Navajo Lake, since that’s out of your jurisdiction. But that’s a large area to search and, so far, my people haven’t found him.”

“Something tells me he’s staying low profile on purpose,” Ella said.

“Maybe, but I’ve got to tell you, in my book, the Fierce Ones still look like
our best prospects.”

“But it’s just not their style to kidnap someone and stay in the shadows. They prefer a more in-your-face approach.” Ella then told Blalock about the soil and water samples they’d taken, and the subsequent attack on her by the river. “I’m beginning to suspect that someone’s trying hard to frame the Fierce Ones.”

“What other group would have an interest in that? I don’t know
of any non-Navajos with that kind of agenda, and there are no other activist groups on the Rez with any substantial amount of power.”

“I know all that, but the Fierce Ones have never taken on a battle where they couldn’t rally local support. Dealing with the youth gangs and graffiti a while back is one example. But kidnapping is something else. It’s hard to justify, even to the most traditional
Navajo.”

“Let’s keep digging,” Blalock said at last.

Ten minutes later, Ella dropped a quick update in Big Ed’s mail slot, then left for the parking lot. It had been a long day and it was time to go home.

As Ella drove down the empty, darkened highway, she wondered about the world her child would inherit. She’d wanted her daughter to grow up in the Rez she’d known, safe anywhere at any hour,
but those days were long gone. A new era was beginning, and it was in that new Rez her child would have to find her place.

S
EPTEMBER
14
TH

Ella woke early before her new clock radio went off, and felt a large lump at the foot of her bed. The lump moved, then groaned slightly, settling in another location atop the covers.

“When did you start becoming a foot warmer, Two?” Ella sat up and scratched
the long-haired mutt behind the ears. Two moved his head slightly to lick her wrist, then stretched out full length.

“Mom will make you start sleeping outside full time if she finds you’ve been getting on the furniture, boy,” Ella whispered. “Let’s make this our little secret.”

Two looked at her solemnly, then slithered off the bed onto the floor. Shaking loose hair all over the place, the mutt
trotted out of the room and into the hall, then laid down on the floor just within her sight.

“You’d rather not keep secrets, right?” Ella said, then sighed. “Neither would I.” Ella stared across the hall at what had once been her brother’s room. She’d have to tell Clifford about her baby soon, but she was worried about how the news would affect him. Would he be pleased, or worried about the
legacy? It seemed nothing was simple these days.

Ella went through the morning shower and dressing ritual, noting her breasts seemed tender. It was another sign of her pregnancy, she knew. Five minutes later, she walked into the kitchen. As she did, she saw Rose was already there beside the stove, making scrambled eggs for a breakfast burrito.

“Good morning, Daughter. I placed your boots out
on the porch so they could dry out thoroughly today. It’s a good thing you keep them well oiled, or the river water would have shrunk them up enough to fit Julian.”

BOOK: Shooting Chant
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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