Authors: David Thurlo
“Stuff like this doesn’t stay under wraps long,” Ella warned.
Justine called the crime scene team, then joined Ella, who was already searching the ground with a powerful flashlight. “There’s got to be half a million boot prints around here, not to mention all kinds of heavy equipment tracks,” Justine said.
“Yeah,”
Ella said, refusing to be discouraged. “And a hundred discarded soda cans and food wrappers. But stay at it. I’m going to try and get more details from the night watchman.” Ella turned her head and noticed that he was staying as far back as he could without getting out of earshot.
“So tell me what happened?” Ella asked, going over to join the man, whose name tag identified him as Albert Benally.
“I heard some really weird chanting, so I went to the window and looked outside. I saw a shadow—just darkness moving in darkness, really—and then, in an instant, it vanished. Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I’m not superstitious,” he added, “but this creeps me out. Particularly that,” he said, gesturing toward the hand. “Even those dudes in the Anglo world who say they aren’t
afraid of nuttin’ would get a little crazy around body parts, you know?”
“Sure,” Ella said. She was willing to bet that it wouldn’t take much to get Mr. Benally to quit his job altogether now.
“They give you a Taser or a nightstick?” Ella asked, glad he wasn’t carrying a pistol. His training was obviously nonexistent.
“Naw, just that spray,” he pointed to a cannister of pepper spray on the
windowsill. “Probably only works on roaches. Besides, who wants to get close enough to use it? My job was just to watch the place and call for help if I saw anything.” He avoided looking in the direction of the severed hand. “I called.”
Officer Tache and Sergeant Neskahi arrived shortly thereafter. Joe was in jeans and a Chieftains sweatshirt—the local high school team—and Tache in khaki pants
and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He had to be cold, but he’d shrugged out of his jacket so he could work without being encumbered. Navajos seldom needed a shave, so even at the late hour, their faces were smooth.
“I’ve cordoned off a perimeter and I’ve called the ME,” Justine said. “She told me that one of us would have to deliver the severed hand to the morgue once we get enough photos. She’s working
on something else right now.”
It didn’t surprise her to hear Carolyn was still at the hospital. Carolyn was as dedicated to her job as they were to theirs. When your passion and what you did for a living were one and the same, they often combined forces and took over your life. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, just that it was so.
“This entire area is fenced off, so we need to find his
point of entry,” Ella said.
Justine glanced over at Neskahi, who was setting up floodlights to illuminate the perimeter defined by the yellow crime scene tape. As usual, Tache would be photographing the scene. “I walked all the way around the pit, and I didn’t see anything but more work site refuse,” Justine said. “If you want us to pick up every soda can or wrapper, we’ll need some trash bags,
too.”
“How far down is the hole?” Ella asked.
“I shined my flashlight down there and it looks like fifty feet or more. The reactor vessel is supposed to be pretty small, if I recall the details from the newspaper, and they’ll install it using a crane,” Justine said, then in a softer voice added, “If anyone fell in, they’re probably dead.”
“How about if we hook up a searchlight to the generator
and search below as far as we can—after we check at ground level. There was supposedly only one intruder,” Ella said.
The search around the perimeter continued and they left anything that looked like trash in place for the moment. Ella contacted Dispatch to see if there had been any reports of grave robbing in the county, but the answer came back negative. Of course it was after midnight, and
that just meant it probably hadn’t been discovered yet. Seconds later, her cell phone rang. It was Big Ed.
“Shorty, we have a report of a grave broken into at Good Shepherd cemetery. The bad news is that Reverend Campbell closed the casket and covered it up again before he even thought of calling us. According to what he said, the body was that of a girl of six.”
“When did she die?” Ella asked.
“Ten months ago in a car accident. The family’s moved away since then and no one knows how to contact them. Officer Cloud filed the report but, basically, all we have is that the caretaker heard someone outside. Unfortunately, he was drunk at the time and passed out shortly thereafter. By the time he woke up it was over. Officer Cloud said the man was totally useless as a witness,” Big Ed added.
“I’ll look into it and give you a full report once I have more,” Ella said, then hung up. Ella was about to go back and finish questioning the night watchman when her cell phone rang again. It was Teeny.
“I’ve got some bits of information for you. Come by whenever you can.”
“I can drop by later, but it’ll be closer to morning by then.”
“I don’t sleep much,” he said. “Come by whenever.”
Ella
still wasn’t sure how he did it, but the big man didn’t seem to need as much rest as most people did. On the other hand, when he wasn’t working, Teeny was known to hole up and sleep for days. She’d teased him about being part bear.
At Justine’s request, Ella helped her team search for a point of entry, walking slowly around the fence line, looking over the chain link carefully. “It’s possible
we’re dealing with someone with very tiny feet,” Ella said after they’d gone around once.
“You’d have to be a size four or smaller to get it into these ultrasmall holes on the wire mesh,” Justine said. “I’m a size five and I couldn’t manage it.”
“Well, the intruder didn’t just materialize in there, so let’s keep looking,” Ella said.
As she moved around the fence line, the flashlight beam fell
on a droopy-looking section leading into a corner. It immediately caught Ella’s eye and she moved in closer, holding the flashlight, and studied the fenced section. It had been cut all the way down, then fastened back into position with wire hooks, undoubtedly after the intruder had stepped back outside the enclosure. “Guys, over here.”
Neskahi crouched next to her. “Smart guy. All he needed
were wire cutters, a pair of pliers, and a dozen or so ready-made wire hooks. He hung the fence back up again after he left. That’s why we didn’t see it before. A lot of places in this fence are droopy.”
“He crept in and out,” Justine noted, “and this was far enough away from the guardhouse that the snip of wire cutters probably wasn’t heard at all. But how did the watchman spot the skinwalker?
It’s pretty dark out here, and this must be two hundred yards from his little building.”
“Good question. While you guys keep working here, he and I are going to have another little talk.”
Ella found Albert Benally on the front stoop of his temporary building. He had a cup of steaming coffee in his hands, and she noticed that they were shaking.
“It’s cold tonight,” he said, following her gaze.
“Want a cup?”
“No, thanks,” Ella answered, noting how nervous the man was.
“How long have you been working here?” Ella asked.
“Not long. I hired on just after that last protest. One of the old guys quit after having to chase some people around for a half hour.”
Ella nodded. “We found how the intruder got inside the fence. He cut the wire way down at the other end, then slipped through. Which
brings up a question. How did you discover he was in there? The glare of the lights hide everything beyond the fence.”
He seemed uncomfortable and shifted from side to side. “Actually, he found me,” he admitted grudgingly. “I was listening to a Lakers home game on the radio—gone into overtime, great game—and something hit the roof and rolled down. I turned off the radio then and listened. That’s
when I heard the chanting. At first I thought it was my fool of a cousin playing a joke on me, so I went outside.”
“It was very dark. How did you manage to see anything at all?”
“I didn’t—at first. I didn’t have my flashlight, I’d left it in my truck, so I didn’t go beyond the range of the floodlights. Then I heard someone laughing. That, the chanting and running around in the dark, well, that’s
a skinwalker thing. I went back and got my flashlight and when I aimed it through the fence, I saw the hand,” he said and swallowed. “I ran back here double time.”
“You a traditionalist?” she asked.
“No, but you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that messing around with the dead is a real bad idea.”
He had a point. Some crossed themselves, others backed off, but nobody wanted to hang
around something death had contaminated.
Ella contacted Justine on the radio. “This might just be another attempt by the protesters to halt work on the plant, but just in case, keep a watch for ashes, bone ammunition, corpse powder, and anything else associated with skinwalkers,” she said, then focused her attention on Albert once more. “Tell me something. Once you found the hand, that’s when
you called us? Or was it before that?”
Albert looked decidedly uncomfortable. “When I saw the hand I ran back here and locked myself in. I picked up the night vision binoculars, turned off the lights, and watched out the window trying to figure out who—or what—was out there. But what I managed to see didn’t make much sense.”
“Explain.”
“The guy was inside the enclosure, closer to this end of
the fence. I couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten over the eight-foot wire, because it was still up.” He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Then I saw him open a pouch of something, throw it up into the air, and scatter it all over the place. Right after that, he stretched his hand to the sky and twirled something.”
“What was he wearing?”
“A jacket with a hood
and pants. No animal skin. I would have expected that. With that green image in the night scope, everything looks a little distorted, though.”
“Then you stopped watching him and called us?” Ella asked.
“Yeah. But by the time I dialed, he was gone.”
“How did you know he was gone?”
“I heard a car or truck driving off. Probably a truck, now that I think about it.”
“In what direction?” Ella said.
Maybe they’d be able to find tire tracks.
“To the south,
not
toward the highway. I remember because I thought it was strange. I mean there’s nothing out there.”
Ella got Albert’s home address and telephone number in case she had to talk to him again. “We’ll want to talk to you again so don’t leave the area without telling us,” she added.
“Leave? Where to? I can’t go nowhere. Don’t have the
bucks. That’s why I took this job. But I’m quitting as soon as the sun comes up.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Ella said, then went back outside.
Justine met her. “I’ve got some kind of ashes, bone fragments, and other stuff besides the hand. And we haven’t been able to lift any prints from the fence posts.”
“I’m going to check out the area where Albert says he heard a vehicle driving off.”
Ella walked
out in a line directly toward the mesa to the south. Hogback was to the west but beyond was open desert with dirt roads between some low-production oil wells and a few remote houses. Finally she discovered a set of fresh-looking tire tracks, probably from a pickup or SUV judging from the size. She continued walking, but the tracks simply stopped. Ella crouched by the ground. This didn’t make
sense.
The breeze was picking up. Wind whispered secrets but right now she could hear nothing, except the threat of evidence disappearing. She walked a little farther and something on the ground caught her eye. It looked familiar and as she crouched down for a closer look, she immediately understood why. It was her shirt—or the right sleeve of her shirt to be precise—bundled up in bailing wire.
She’d discarded it in the outside trash at Justine’s after the fire at the office complex. Someone had retrieved it, cut the sleeve off, bundled it up, then covered it with grayish ashes of some kind.
It was a clear threat. A skinwalker used personal items to work evil. But obviously the person didn’t know her very well. This didn’t frighten her—it just pissed her off.
She called Justine and
Tache over. As they worked the evidence, Justine glanced up at her. “Let me guess. This is a piece of the shirt you were wearing earlier at Teeny’s?”
“Yeah. I’d placed it outside in your trash barrel. But what worries me now is that this proves he knows where I’m staying—which means you and Emily are in danger, too.”
“Let him take us on. It’ll be fun,” Justine answered with a lethal smile.
Ella understood. Emily would undoubtedly react the same way. None of them were the kind to back away from trouble. For the first time since she’d started working the case, she was glad she wasn’t at home and that Dawn wasn’t with her.
“Anyone look familiar?” Dwayne Blalock whispered, looking down from their perch inside the cab of a big yellow loader at the group of construction workers gathered about fifty feet away. Both were disguised in coveralls and wearing hard hats.
Ella yawned, having slept less than three hours before Blalock had called,
suggesting they stake out Clifford’s purification ceremony. FB-Eyes wanted to be there in case Leroy, Caleb Frank, or whoever had caused last night’s trouble decided to return for another round.
She knew, in spite of the cliché, that perps, especially vandals, often
did
return to the scene of the crime to survey their handiwork. But it was barely sunrise, and if not for the coffee Blalock had
provided, she’d have been half asleep right now.
“Looks like just the workers showed up. I recognize several faces,” she finally answered. “But the one they called Leroy isn’t here.”
“He’s gotta be Caleb Frank. Wish you’d let me use my camera.”
Ella shook her head. “My brother consented to let us watch, but he’s serious about his profession, and he needs us to show the proper respect for this
Navajo ceremony.”
“What was the stuff in the little pouches he handed out when the workmen arrived?” Blalock whispered.
“It’s gall medicine, which provides protection, especially against witchcraft. The medicine is made from the gall of an animal, like a bear, deer, skunk, mountain lion, or, less likely these days, an eagle. I think there’s corn or pollen in it, too.”
“And only a Navajo skinwalker
would be messing with body parts, like that girl’s hand, right?” Blalock replied.
“Yeah, or someone pretending to be one,” Ella replied, looking down and taking a sip of coffee.
As Clifford had begun to chant, she kept her eyes on the workers, trying to spot any potential sources of trouble.
She wasn’t a traditionalist, but Ella always enjoyed the complicated rhythmic and tonal patterns of
a Navajo Sing. The prayer had to be perfect, and Clifford’s voice was clear and strong. It was a Singer’s knowledge that gave him power to call down the aid of the gods. The result would be certain if the prayers that compelled the gods were done just right. Clifford’s skill as a
hataalii
would insure protection for those who intended to remain and work here. Ella noted that even the few Anglo
workers present were watching and listening intently. She felt the power inherent in the Sing, and knew the Navajo workers standing around in their work clothes and hard hats were similarly affected. A few clutched medicine pouches in their hands.
A half hour later, after the final blessing and scattering of corn pollen, Clifford nodded to one of the Anglo workers, who climbed up into a loader
identical to the one Ella and Blalock were in.
The engine started, and after warming up a moment, the loader lurched forward. Clifford pointed to a spot, and the big scoop came down, taking a big bite out of the ground. The loader turned, moved a hundred feet over to a dump truck, and dropped the collected dirt inside.
“That’s where the hand was found, right?” Blalock asked, speaking normally
to be heard above the noise.
She nodded. “Contaminated ground to some. Even though it’s been cleansed by the
hataalii,
the earth is going to be taken off the Rez by non-Navajos,” Ella replied.
Clifford then turned to the gathered crowd, assuring them in Navajo and English that it was now safe to work there.
As the gathering dispersed, Ella glanced at Blalock. “It’s finished. Time for us to
move on, too.”
Ella returned to Justine’s place to find Emily and Justine both in the kitchen. A pot of freshly brewed coffee between them, they looked as if they’d been talking for a while.
“Well, FB-Eyes and I didn’t find any bad guys at the construction site. But it was worth a shot. What’s up here?” Ella asked, though she already suspected the answer.
“I told Emily about the shirt and
ashes,” Justine said. “I thought she should know. Though I haven’t had a chance to analyze the ashes and determine their origin, the threat was clear.”
“So what have you decided? Do you want me to move out?” Ella asked.
“Are you nuts?” Emily countered instantly. “You’re staying. If three officers can’t handle one sicko, then we might as well turn in our badges and take up needlepoint.”
Justine
laughed. “I don’t know about the needlepoint thing, but I’m with her. We just have to play it smart and come up with a plan so we don’t get ambushed at night.”
“Agreed,” Ella said, “but we can’t expect our PD to be much help on this. We have a serious manpower shortage and I already have officers on my daughter and my mother.”
“I know. That’s why we were thinking of accepting Teeny’s offer,”
Justine said.
“Teeny? What’s he got to do with this?” Ella asked, joining them at the table.
“He called while you were out,” Justine answered. “He’s worried about you. He’d heard about the shirt.”
“How…?” She shook her head. “Never mind. So what was his offer?”
“He wants to put some of his own employees on the job and have them watch this place at night. He also wants to update our locks
and put in the kind of alarm that’ll alert his system. That way if there’s a break-in, he’ll know instantly.”
“I don’t know if we can afford…”
Before Ella could finish, Justine said. “Big Ed has approved the funding already, and the locks will appear as a short-term rental on the books.”
“He was up early. What time is it?” Ella looked at the clock. It was a quarter to eight. “Did
you
guys get
any sleep?”
Justine shrugged. “I can’t speak for Em, but I figure I got three hours tops. I just couldn’t get the image of that little girl’s hand out of my mind,” she added softly.
“So what’s with this skinwalker creep?” Emily asked Ella. “Did he think you’d fall apart or something?”
“If I’m right, his goal was just to sidetrack our murder investigation. I can’t prove it yet, but I think the
guy was Caleb Frank pretending to be a skinwalker.”
Justine gave her an owlish blink. “So this had nothing to do with the power plant issue?”
“No. The guy across the ditch all but admitted he was the one who threw the clod at me and tried to get a fight started at the last demonstration. His problem is related to me, my father, and the Divine Word Church. That all points to Caleb Frank,” Ella
answered. “I just wish I had a photo of that guy.”
“Me, too. But when it comes to Valerie Tso’s murder, my money’s still on Stan Brewster.” Justine stood, having finished breakfast. “Ready to go whenever you are.”
Ella grabbed one of the breakfast bars from the table. “What’s your schedule today, Emily?”
“I’m working the swing shift,” she said. “I’ll be here if Teeny or his people come by.”
Ella and Justine were underway moments later. “Teeny’s working from home because it’s closer to Shiprock, so head there,” Ella said.
“That place of his really creeps me out,” Justine answered as they hit the main highway. “I feel like I’m going to step on a land mine or something.”
Ella shook her head. “If there’s one place in the planet where you and I are totally safe, it’s at Teeny’s.”
When
they reached the fenced perimeter just outside Teeny’s home, Justine glanced around. “Wow. He’s added more security,” she said, pointing to the cameras.
“Ladies, the fence will open up in a second for you.” Teeny’s voice came from a speaker.
They went inside Teeny’s home moments later. Sophisticated computer equipment on sturdy wooden tables covered much of the floor space in the living room.
A lot of the hardware wasn’t at all familiar to Ella.
“Word about what happened last night is spreading like wildfire,” Teeny said. “The skinwalker issue complicates everything. People are afraid that the ground has been contaminated and if the power plant is built there, it’ll only bring evil.”
Ella nodded. “Before the protestors tried to claim it was holy ground. Now they’ll say it’s cursed.
What’s worse is that this all took place right next to where the reactor vessel is going to be installed.”
“What concerns me most is the threat—using your shirt and the ashes. That was directed at
you
, personally,” Teeny said, never making eye contact with her. “So, skinwalker or not, his days of freedom are numbered. You’ve got a lot of friends, and we’ll be there to watch your back.”
Ella
knew that not looking directly at her was a Navajo sign of respect, and his words and gesture touched her. “Thanks. It’s good to have buddies I can count on when the going gets rough.”
“Don’t give it another thought. You’re covered,” he said gruffly, and then turned his attention back to the computer. “I’ve been trying to get something on Caleb Frank for you. But here’s the thing. I’ve got zero—no
driver’s license, no birth record, nothing. So either that’s not his real name, or he’s existed under the radar all his life. Mind you, that’s not uncommon among Navajos who were born at home and grew up on the Rez. And people can change their Anglo names.”
“So what now? Any suggestions?” Ella asked.
“We move on until we get something new. I’ll be sending some people over to your house today,”
he added, glancing at Justine. “By the time we’re through, the guy will have to be invisible to get anywhere near you three.”
“Thanks. We appreciate it,” Justine answered.
Soon they were on their way to the station. “Partner, I’m going to need you to find out where those ashes came from,” Ella said. “Specifically, I want to know if they have a biological origin.”
“You’re thinking corpse powder?”
Justine asked somberly.
Ella nodded. They were both seasoned police officers able to take most crimes in stride, but things like these were in a category all their own. They’d encountered skinwalkers—Navajo witches—on other occasions, and experience warned them not to dismiss the power of rituals just because science didn’t sanction them.
“I’ll get on it immediately. But skinwalkers are also
known to use ashes taken from a killed hogan. Pine ashes are pine ashes, and we wouldn’t know the source,” Justine said.
Ella nodded. A killed hogan was one where a death had taken place. They were usually easy to spot because of the hole on the side of the structure. “I’m just trying to determine how dedicated to the ritual he really was.” Anything directly connected to the dead had more power
than something that was merely associated with it.
After they reached the station, Justine went directly to her lab and Ella to her office. They’d been working for a little over an hour when Big Ed called for a meeting.
Less than twenty minutes later, Ella and Justine entered the chief’s office. The rest of their team was already assembled there, waiting.
Big Ed gestured for them to take a
seat, then leaned back. “I want a full report on the Special Investigations Team’s progress. Go,” he said, giving Ella a nod.
Ella filled him in on everything she’d learned so far. “But Teeny can’t find anything on Caleb Frank.”
“If he can’t find it, it’s not there,” Big Ed said.
“We’re still trying to pin down Brewster’s alibi. Marco Pete said that the man might have been at Valerie’s apartment
that night.”
Big Ed nodded. “So what’s your next step?”
“I’m going to talk to Dorothy Yabeny’s relatives. I want to find out if they remember anything that might help us. In particular, I want to find out if she was seeing Caleb Frank, or anyone who matches his description.”
“What else have you got on the truck that was used to torch the office building?” Big Ed asked, looking at Justine.
“The perp stole it from a locked construction area reserved for vehicles of all kinds,” Justine answered.
“A locked area…” Ella repeated, an idea forming in her head.
Tache sat up. “I bet we’re dealing with a construction worker with access to keys, like one of the foremen?”
Ella nodded. “I just had the same thought. Get me that list,” she said to Tache.
Big Ed looked at Justine. “What specifics
have you got on the little package the skinwalker left for Shorty?”
Ella looked at Justine, eager for answers as well.
“The ashes on the shirt, as well as what he scattered beside the foundation pit, were from cured lumber, not cottonwood or peeled pine logs like those used to construct hogan walls. Traces of green dye, the kind used to mark grades of lumber, were found in the analysis.”
“That
suggests we’re probably not dealing with a skinwalker at all. Just someone who wanted to create that impression, and cause more trouble at the work site,” Big Ed said thoughtfully.
“Chief, the last two instances seem to have been instigated by the same individual, and not Benjamin Harvey. The guy with the camera that nobody seems able to identify is definitely out to create problems and might
be our bogus skinwalker as well.”
“The guy with the hat and sunglasses—maybe the same guy who was at the church. Right, Ella?” Justine asked.
She nodded. “I have a feeling that his real goal is to slow down the murder investigation by making sure he keeps us running in circles.”
“Which suggests he’s either the killer, or someone trying to protect him.” Big Ed was about to say more when his
phone rang. His expression darkened as he listened to the caller. “She’ll be there,” he said, then hung up.
“We have a potential situation at the construction site,” Big Ed continued, looking at Ella. “I thought your brother did a protection ceremony there this morning.”
“Blalock and I were there, and it seemed to go fine. What’s up now?”
“That was Benjamin Harvey, the spokesman for the demonstrators.
He needs to know what we’ve learned about last night—if it’s a real skinwalker or just some sick guy trying to pit the demonstrators against the workers again. Benjamin apparently got a call from the same guy, John, who tried to start a riot last time, the guy we were just discussing, who was more than willing to fill him in. He apparently called others, too. Benjamin doesn’t trust him
so he’s going to hold off talking to the workers until he meets with you, Shorty.”