Tracking Bear (35 page)

Sorting through the boxes in the storeroom at the college seemed like an endless job. Finally, after reaching the end of the first aisle, Wilson, red-eyed, and in a foul mood, glanced at Ella. “It’s nearly two in the morning. Are you sure there’s something here to find?”

“Truthfully, no, but I have a strong
hunch.”

“You brought me here at this hour for a
hunch
?” His voice rose an octave.

“Wilson, just keep looking down
inside
the boxes below what you expect to be there. I don’t care what they’re labeled, or what’s on top. You were the one who told me that Franklin usually brought boxes of materials whenever he guest lectured here. It’s possible he left something behind inside another box. You can’t
rule it out until you’ve checked.”

“Ella, the boxes marked Test Tubes have test tubes. The ones marked Lab Manuals have lab manuals. There’s nothing here,” he said wearily.

“So far. But you don’t know what we might find if we keep looking. I know you’re tired, and so am I. But I believe that the death of his son has sent Kee Franklin over the edge, and now he’s involved in something that’s going
to get him killed.”

“Give me a hand with this one,” he said, spotting a battered box on the highest shelf. “I have no idea how it ended up over there with those outdated materials. I remember Kee used it to demonstrate alpha particle decay during his lecture. Be careful. It has a working model of a cloud chamber in it, and it’s a bit heavy.”

Once they’d managed to lower it to the floor, Wilson
opened the cardboard flaps and brushed away some of the packing material. “It’s essentially just a big black box with a glass front and an asbestos top.”

“We know he used what was in the box, so look all the way to the bottom—just in case,” Ella said.

Grumbling, Wilson lifted the cloud chamber out and, as he did, he found it had been resting on a large three-ring notebook. “That’s not
my
reference
material.” As he opened the faded-looking notebook, a letter fell out. It was addressed to Kee Franklin, and it had the business letterhead of the Permian Energy Network.

Ella picked up the letter as Wilson went to his desk with the notebook in hand.

She read the letter quickly. “A few months ago Permian offered Kee Franklin a job. They wanted him to come to work for them as a research consultant
on their uranium enrichment process using laser technology. It mentions Delbert Shives as the pilot program coordinator and contact person.”

“Interesting,” Wilson said, looking up from his notebook.

“What I suspected was right,” Ella said. “Shives probably stole Kee’s process, or at least part of it, then brought it to Permian as his own. He must have thought he could complete the research himself
if they funded him. But this letter shows they went to Franklin about it, and let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. There is a ‘cc’ at the bottom to Shives.”

“So Shives was screwed. Franklin knew his work had been appropriated, at least part of it,” Wilson said, nodding.

“Right. Shives must have realized he was running out of options. If Franklin got a look at what Shives had used to entice
Permian and recognized his own research, he could blow Shives out of the water and sue him and maybe Permian, too. Instead of getting rich, Shives could have been facing jail time.”

Wilson, who had been studying the papers in the notebook, looked up. “I can’t be one hundred percent sure without a lot of additional reading and confirming with real experts in the field, but these are Kee’s notes
on his process—and according to his conclusions, Ella, the process worked, quadrupling the efficiency. He says here that the costs of a full-scale operation producing weapons-grade uranium would be cut by two-thirds, and high-grade uranium for fuel rods more than that. These numbers are out-of-date, but even at today’s costs that could make nuclear power competitive again.”

They didn’t have to
look any further. By the time they left, it was three-thirty in the morning. Ella took the papers, logged them in as evidence, and went directly home. It was quiet, and only Two woke up to greet her.

Slipping through the house, she made it to her bedroom and closed the door before turning on the light. She reached down for her cell phone, replaced the spent battery with a fresh one, and when
she turned it on again saw that she had a voice message waiting.

Punching out the proper codes, she heard the message. It was Clifford. His words were cryptic, saying that he had news about the man she was looking for and should call him whenever she picked up the message, regardless of the hour.

It was nearly 4
A.M
. but she dialed his number. After two rings, he picked it up. “Sister?”

“How
did you know it was me? Never mind,” she whispered. “Who else would be calling at this hour? I just discovered your message. Is it news about the professor?”

“Yes. I heard something earlier today, but couldn’t get to a phone until I got home, and by then it was already after midnight. Come over now, and I’ll tell you what I heard,” Clifford added.

“Why not just tell me now, so we can both go
back to sleep?”

“You won’t be able to sleep once you hear what I have to say, and I don’t want to give out this information over the phone. You’ll find out why when you get here,” Clifford said.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?” Ella hung up, checked her pistol, then grabbed a flashlight from the nightstand before turning out the bedroom lights. She left the house silently, careful not to
wake up her mother or Dawn. Two was in the kitchen, and she patted his head on the way out. “Keep an eye on things, boy,” she whispered, locking the door behind her.

She should have been tired, but there was enough adrenaline pumping through her to keep going indefinitely. When her brother was reluctant to tell her something except in person, it usually meant there was a strong element of danger
involved.

She arrived at her brother’s darkened house, which was farther down the dirt road, in less than ten minutes. Anxious to speak to Clifford, Ella noticed the front door was open, though the screen door was shut. He’d obviously opened the front door since speaking to her, but the lack of a light in the house suggested he was outside somewhere. She naturally looked toward the medicine hogan,
but there was no light coming from the interior, nor was there any smoke coming from the metal chimney of the small cast-iron woodstove, which projected from the hole in the center of the hogan roof.

“Brother?” Ella stood by the entrance. When there was no response, she parted the blanket and looked inside, expecting him to be lighting the lantern, or perhaps poking around with a flashlight.
Seeing two medicine pouches lying on a sheepskin pelt, her skin began to prickle. The pouches would have never been allowed to remain on the ground, so her brother must have set them here, then left the hogan. Perhaps he’d gone back into the house, and maybe his electricity was out. Even so, she’d have expected to see light from a lantern.

She reached for her weapon and turned around, looking
into the darkness. It was pitch-black tonight, and traditionalists like her brother usually didn’t wander around outside after sundown. Ella caught a whiff of something in the breeze just then and crinkled her nose. “Skunk. Ugh.”

Grabbing the small flashlight she kept in her jacket pocket, Ella went ahead toward the main house, bracing her gun hand with the light. Suddenly hearing twigs snapping,
she spun around.

Seeing the pistol aimed at his chest, Clifford froze. “I saw you poking around, and I came over to tell you not to worry. I came outside, intending on waiting for you in the medicine hogan, then discovered a skunk hanging around the henhouse. I had to throw a few rocks in his direction to get him on his way.”

“You scared me, you toad. I could have shot you. Next time wear a
bell.” Ella quickly holstered her weapon.

“No, you wouldn’t have shot me. You always identify your target,” Clifford said calmly.

“I need to know what you’ve learned about the scientist. It’s critical that I find him soon. I’ve just discovered something that leads me to believe he’s in mortal danger. And why couldn’t you just tell me over the telephone?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute. This
afternoon I traveled west into Arizona to perform a healing ceremony for one of my patients. After my work was done we had supper together, and the daughter of the man I was treating said she’d seen the scientist at the old sheepherding camp southwest of Big Water Spring, up in the foothills as far as you can drive a pickup.”

“Where is that, over by Narbona Pass?”

“Northwest of there, closer
to Crystal.”

“That’s a pretty isolated area this time of year.”

He nodded. “And here’s why I didn’t want to speak about it on the phone. I have one of those old, wireless units that others might be able to listen in on. We’ve made some powerful enemies, you and I, and I don’t have to name them to get your attention—and I certainly don’t want to turn them in my family’s direction either.”

Ella
nodded. Navajo witches, often called skinwalkers because of their custom of sometimes wearing coyote or wolf hides, were evil magic practitioners. Skinwalkers hated and feared medicine men like Clifford, who countered their efforts and knew how to fight against them. And Ella had foiled several of their attempts to harm others in the past.

Clifford continued. “I’ve been told that the evil ones
have taken to gathering in that general area, too. The ground is polluted because uranium tailings were buried there. Navajo witches are the only ones who go there these days, so you should stay away. If they recognize you, and they have the opportunity, they’ll kill you, or at least try to harm you with their magic. You’ve always been a thorn in their side.”

“And you as well.” Ella noted that
her brother always avoided mentioning skinwalkers by that name. Many believed that even saying the word attracted their attention. Although medicine men knew the best defenses against them, Clifford was always very careful. “I’ll stay on my guard, but I’m going after them,” she added.

Ella glanced at her watch. It was barely five in the morning, and the eastern sky was starting to lighten
up a bit. She’d called Justine about thirty minutes after she’d left her brother’s house. She’d hated to get her partner out of bed for what could turn out to be a wild-goose chase, but she didn’t have a choice. If the tip panned out, they’d have to move quickly, and backup was scarce and slow to arrive.

Although she hadn’t slept all night, Ella was very much awake. This lead had to pan out—Kee
was as good as dead if it didn’t. She thought ahead to what she’d have to do next. She knew the family who owned the trading post over by Crystal, which was in the general vicinity of the sheepherding camp. If luck was with her, one of them would be up offering prayers to the dawn. She wanted to talk to them before proceeding any further.

It was a quarter to six by the time she arrived at the
trading post on the western side of the Chuska Mountains and still in the shadow of the tall ridges. These days, Martha Lujan, an old classmate of Ella’s, was said to be running the place. Her dad and mother had retired since John Lujan’s stroke last year.

As Ella parked, she saw a cadaverously thin Navajo woman with short-cropped hair leading an elderly traditionally dressed lady inside.

Ella
waited on the long, narrow wooden porch until someone came to greet her. Several minutes later, the younger woman approached.

Ella took out her ID. “I need to talk to the trader.”

“Ella, don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Martha.”

Ella took another look at the woman’s face. Martha had never been a large woman, but she’d dropped at least forty pounds since high school. She wondered if her former
schoolmate was ill from something like cancer.

“I didn’t recognize you,” Ella smiled. “Most of your former classmates have
gained
weight, you know,” she added with a chuckle.

“You still look about the same.”

“I’m only a few pounds heavier, but I really work to stay in shape. In my job, it really helps.”

“I’ve lost a lot of weight since I came back to the Rez. I guess I miss my old life and
don’t eat as much as I used to. I left the Rez shortly after you did, but I had to come back not long ago when Dad got sick. Mom couldn’t handle things alone.”

Ella nodded. Family ties were still strong on most areas of the Rez. Sometimes all a person had was their relatives. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

“Actually, I think they’ve both gotten better since I took over for them here.
They’d always hoped I’d return and run the business someday.” She paused. “But that’s obviously not why you’re here so early. It’s police business, isn’t it?”

“I need to ask you a few questions,” Ella said. “There’s an old sheepherding camp up the mountain from here. I was wondering if you knew if anyone’s using it right now. Have you noticed any smoke coming from there?”

Martha thought about
it. “I haven’t seen sheep in this area for a long time. The land’s no good around here, so no one comes around with their animals anymore. Several old uranium mine shafts are still uncovered, too, so it’s pretty dangerous to wander about.”