Authors: Aimee Thurlo
White Thunder (27 page)
“Yeah. They were probably the last
to see him before he drove north.” Ella continued searching for ejected shell casings. Considering the victim’s bullet riddled body, it made no sense not to be
able to find at least one. Most handguns produced and sold nowadays were semi-autos and they ejected each spent casing.
to see him before he drove north.” Ella continued searching for ejected shell casings. Considering the victim’s bullet riddled body, it made no sense not to be
able to find at least one. Most handguns produced and sold nowadays were semi-autos and they ejected each spent casing.
The perps had taken the victim’s vehicle—that had apparently been the point of the crime. But having the foresight
to pick up a dozen or more shell casings as well as the victim’s own weapon either meant that the shooters had been super cool and careful, or the murder itself had been premeditated and the victim’s vehicle a bonus. Of course that presupposed the soldier had been the real target and the rest of the operation just window dressing. If that were true, he would have had to have been followed or maybe
the perps had been waiting, knowing he’d be coming down this road at the right time. But all she had was speculation at this point and a dead soldier.
to pick up a dozen or more shell casings as well as the victim’s own weapon either meant that the shooters had been super cool and careful, or the murder itself had been premeditated and the victim’s vehicle a bonus. Of course that presupposed the soldier had been the real target and the rest of the operation just window dressing. If that were true, he would have had to have been followed or maybe
the perps had been waiting, knowing he’d be coming down this road at the right time. But all she had was speculation at this point and a dead soldier.
Neskahi was working a few feet away from her, scouring the ground adjacent to the road. “Based on the blood distribution and separate drag marks I get the idea that the victim shot at least one of the perps. There’s also a small amount of shattered
glass that could have come from a window on the perps vehicle. But if the vic’s gun isn’t around, that means the perps must have taken it with them. Bad idea, if it’s legal and registered,” he said.
glass that could have come from a window on the perps vehicle. But if the vic’s gun isn’t around, that means the perps must have taken it with them. Bad idea, if it’s legal and registered,” he said.
“I was just wondering about his weapon, too,” Ella said.
“Maybe this started as one of the usual carjackings, but then the vic recognized one of the perps,” Neskahi suggested, continuing his search
pattern, his eyes still directed to the ground.
pattern, his eyes still directed to the ground.
“That’s another good theory,” Ella said, then left him to talk to Officer Lujan. “Your first homicide, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And a friend as well. That’s tough. I’ve called for help to direct traffic. When it arrives, you can return to the station and write up your report. Unwind a little, maybe.”
“Not necessary. I can handle it.” The answer came
too quickly to be genuine.
too quickly to be genuine.
“You mentioned that the deceased had a brother?” Ella said, directing the focus back to the investigation.
Lujan nodded. “He lives in Farmington, but he’s been keeping an eye on his brother’s place. It’s near here.”
“Brother’s name?”
“Samuel Blacksheep,” he said, then after a pause, added, “Samuel’s going to be out for blood when he hears about this.”
“They were
close?”
close?”
He hesitated. “When they were kids Samuel was always watching over his little brother. That habit may end up creating problems for the department now. Samuel won’t want to stand back and let our PD do all the leg work. You get me?”
Ella nodded, understanding precisely what he meant. An officer dedicated his life to protecting and serving the public. But when crime struck this close and
involved a member of the family, the perspective twisted. Skills an officer used to protect himself and others and to make sure justice was served could easily become a tool to exact revenge.
involved a member of the family, the perspective twisted. Skills an officer used to protect himself and others and to make sure justice was served could easily become a tool to exact revenge.
“His house is over across,” Lujan said, pointing with his lips, Navajo style. “Family name’s on the mailbox.”
‘Over across’ could mean on the other side of a field, or in Albuquerque, hours away, but since
he’d pointed to an area beyond the cattle guard that apparently contained only a few houses, she’d be able to narrow it down. “Thanks.”
he’d pointed to an area beyond the cattle guard that apparently contained only a few houses, she’d be able to narrow it down. “Thanks.”
Ella checked with Carolyn, who was still by the body. “I’m going to check out the victim’s home,” she said, interrupting the M.E. “We don’t know yet if the perps paid a visit there as well.”
Carolyn nodded absently, then gestured toward the stretcher and body
bag visible in the back of her open van. “I’ll need help. Get Neskahi for me before you leave.”
bag visible in the back of her open van. “I’ll need help. Get Neskahi for me before you leave.”
Ella gave her a bemused smile. “Still paying him back for that crack he made about you? That was ages ago.” Contact with the dead was extremely difficult for any Navajo. Even the M.E. and the crime scene unit used two sets of gloves as a precaution so that they wouldn’t touch anything that had touched
the dead. But the job
no one
wanted was helping the M.E. move the body. Knowing that, Carolyn always asked for Neskahi when the time came, no matter who else was around.
the dead. But the job
no one
wanted was helping the M.E. move the body. Knowing that, Carolyn always asked for Neskahi when the time came, no matter who else was around.
“Get him.”
“Okay,” Ella said, knowing the futility of arguing with Carolyn
about anything like this. Several years back, Neskahi had made a half-hearted joke about Carolyn’s weight and since that fateful day Carolyn had made
it her mission in life to make Joseph as uncomfortable as possible at every crime scene.
about anything like this. Several years back, Neskahi had made a half-hearted joke about Carolyn’s weight and since that fateful day Carolyn had made
it her mission in life to make Joseph as uncomfortable as possible at every crime scene.
Ella whistled, caught Neskahi’s attention, then gestured to Carolyn. Neskahi’s downcast expression as he approached spoke volumes.
As he walked past her, Neskahi muttered, “I even tried flowers. How long is she going to remember?”
“For the rest of your life, Joe,” Ella said softly. “And don’t
ever
send
her candy.”
ever
send
her candy.”
“Come on, Sergeant,” Carolyn said with a grim smile. “Quit dragging your feet!”
CHAPTER TWO
E
lla arrived at a crumbling gray stucco house less than five minutes later. As she stepped out of the SUV she studied the home, which seemed typical of the area. From the construction it was obvious that rooms had been added two or three different times. The roof was red, layered in
rolls of mineral covered fiberglass and sealed around the edges with black roofing compound and galvanized nails. There was probably no insulation anywhere, but, judging from the roof vents and a big LPG tank, the house had a furnace and cook stove. There was also electricity, thanks to the power lines along the paved highway less than a half mile away. Electricity and gas heating were a blessing
still too rare on the Rez where the twenty-first century had yet to arrive. A small pump hose indicated a well. Running water was a luxury not everyone had on the Rez.
lla arrived at a crumbling gray stucco house less than five minutes later. As she stepped out of the SUV she studied the home, which seemed typical of the area. From the construction it was obvious that rooms had been added two or three different times. The roof was red, layered in
rolls of mineral covered fiberglass and sealed around the edges with black roofing compound and galvanized nails. There was probably no insulation anywhere, but, judging from the roof vents and a big LPG tank, the house had a furnace and cook stove. There was also electricity, thanks to the power lines along the paved highway less than a half mile away. Electricity and gas heating were a blessing
still too rare on the Rez where the twenty-first century had yet to arrive. A small pump hose indicated a well. Running water was a luxury not everyone had on the Rez.
The mailbox at the beginning of the driveway, hand lettered with the name Blacksheep, was so full of mail that the door wouldn’t close. If Samuel was stopping by the check on the house and take care of the mail, he hadn’t been
by for several days.
by for several days.
Ella put on a pair of latex gloves, then took a closer look at the envelopes inside. Based upon some of the postmarks, the oldest mail had been there for at least two weeks. Along with the many advertisements there was an electric bill and two issues of a National Guard magazine. Then she noticed something peculiar. The
mail, even the flyers, had been sorted according to
size. Ella knew from experience that the Shiprock post office simply put rubberbands around the day’s mail without sorting it. Someone with a penchant for order had looked through Jimmy Blacksheep’s mail.
mail, even the flyers, had been sorted according to
size. Ella knew from experience that the Shiprock post office simply put rubberbands around the day’s mail without sorting it. Someone with a penchant for order had looked through Jimmy Blacksheep’s mail.
Had Blacksheep’s assailants come here before or after attacking him and checked his mail? Jimmy had died less than two miles from his home after making it back from halfway around the world.
That was either very bad luck or no coincidence at all.
That was either very bad luck or no coincidence at all.
Deep in thought, her senses alert for more clues, Ella noted a single set of fresh vehicle tracks that had been disturbed just enough by the wind to blur the tread pattern. Photos would have to be taken soon to preserve any record at all.
Ella climbed back into her vehicle and drove up to the house, avoiding the previous trail. The tire
tracks left by the last visitor showed the vehicle had pulled up and turned around, probably facing back down the driveway to facilitate a quick exit. Vague imprints showed the driver had gotten out and walked to the house but, despite searching, she couldn’t find any traces of blood. That told her one thing at least—the wounded perp hadn’t been the one to walk around here afterwards.
tracks left by the last visitor showed the vehicle had pulled up and turned around, probably facing back down the driveway to facilitate a quick exit. Vague imprints showed the driver had gotten out and walked to the house but, despite searching, she couldn’t find any traces of blood. That told her one thing at least—the wounded perp hadn’t been the one to walk around here afterwards.
Dust had
accumulated on the front porch, and she saw the vague footprints that went all the way up to the door. Looking closely, Ella then noted the absence of dust anywhere on the door knob. Someone had come here recently, checked the mail, then gone inside the house, either using a key or, since there was no sign of a forced entry, maybe the door had been unlocked.
accumulated on the front porch, and she saw the vague footprints that went all the way up to the door. Looking closely, Ella then noted the absence of dust anywhere on the door knob. Someone had come here recently, checked the mail, then gone inside the house, either using a key or, since there was no sign of a forced entry, maybe the door had been unlocked.
Ella knocked but no one answered.
Gloves still on to avoid leaving fingerprints, she tried the knob. Many traditional Navajos didn’t bother to lock their doors, though people in law enforcement, like Samuel Blacksheep, generally didn’t share the public’s illusions about safety on the Rez.
Gloves still on to avoid leaving fingerprints, she tried the knob. Many traditional Navajos didn’t bother to lock their doors, though people in law enforcement, like Samuel Blacksheep, generally didn’t share the public’s illusions about safety on the Rez.
The door was locked. Ella listened but there were no sounds coming from inside at all, only the faint whistling of the breeze sweeping across
the porch. She peered through a crack in the curtains and saw a sparsely decorated living room and beyond, in the next room, a kitchen table.
the porch. She peered through a crack in the curtains and saw a sparsely decorated living room and beyond, in the next room, a kitchen table.
Ella heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and looked back toward the road. A Farmington police cruiser was racing down the side road trailing a rooster tail of dust. The vehicle turned sharply into the driveway, and a few seconds later slid to a stop
beside her own, unmarked unit.
beside her own, unmarked unit.
A stocky, barrel-chested Navajo man clad in the blue uniform of the Farmington Police department stepped quickly out of the driver’s side.
“Special Investigator Clah?” he called out, walking toward the porch.
“That’s me,” she said, going to meet him.
Navajos, even modernists like police officers, rarely shook hands, and today was no exception. “I’m Samuel Blacksheep.
I’ve been apprised of the situation. What progress have you made so far?”
I’ve been apprised of the situation. What progress have you made so far?”
His tone was brisk but his eyes were wet and reddened and there was pain etched in his features. Remembering her father’s death, she felt a wave of sympathy. His brain was telling him
okay,
get on with it
, but his heart was breaking into a million pieces.
okay,
get on with it
, but his heart was breaking into a million pieces.
“How you doing?” she asked him softly. But even as she spoke she
knew that the last thing he wanted was her sympathy. Officer Blacksheep’s eyes were lit by an inner—and dangerous—fire. Anger was easier to release than overwhelming grief. She’d seen this before. Everything in him demanded retribution—a life for a life. But those feelings would have to be reined in if he expected to remain a police officer.
knew that the last thing he wanted was her sympathy. Officer Blacksheep’s eyes were lit by an inner—and dangerous—fire. Anger was easier to release than overwhelming grief. She’d seen this before. Everything in him demanded retribution—a life for a life. But those feelings would have to be reined in if he expected to remain a police officer.
“I’m coping,” he answered. “But I need to know what
happened.”
happened.”
She nodded. “How’d you get here so fast? We just called it in.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a pause before he answered, as if his brain and his vocal cords weren’t quite working in tandem. “I was on patrol on Farmington’s west side when the desk sergeant notified me that there was a situation here involving my brother. He didn’t have any details, but they took me off
duty so I could come to the scene. When I arrived I was told
my brother … ,” his voice wavered slightly. Pausing, he cleared his throat. “Officer Goodluck said you’d be here and would want to talk to me,” he finished in a strangled tone.
duty so I could come to the scene. When I arrived I was told
my brother … ,” his voice wavered slightly. Pausing, he cleared his throat. “Officer Goodluck said you’d be here and would want to talk to me,” he finished in a strangled tone.
Ella watched Officer Blacksheep, trying to determine how much to tell him. He was already on the edge and trying like crazy to hold it all in.
“We
will
take
down whoever’s responsible for the death of your brother. You can count on it.”
will
take
down whoever’s responsible for the death of your brother. You can count on it.”
“I’ll hold you to that. But I want to know what happened. Where’s my brother’s vehicle? Do you have a suspect yet?”
“We’re still working, so all I can tell you right now is that his body was found by the road about an hour ago—no vehicle,” Ella replied. “Right now I’d like to go inside his home and take a look around.
I understand you’ve been taking care of the place. Do you happen to have a key on you?”
I understand you’ve been taking care of the place. Do you happen to have a key on you?”
“How did you know … ? Oh, right. Lujan told you.” Samuel nodded, searching his pocket. “My brother deserved a better homecoming than this.”
“How long has it been since
you
were here?” Ella asked.
you
were here?” Ella asked.
“About a week—give or take. Has someone been here since?”
“Someone stopped by after yesterday’s dust storm,
maybe early this morning. I found vehicle tracks, and, vague footprints that had to have been made since the dust began flying.”
maybe early this morning. I found vehicle tracks, and, vague footprints that had to have been made since the dust began flying.”
“Do you think that someone was waiting for my brother to show up, and came here first, before killing him and hijacking his car?”
“I can’t say, not yet, though it would make more sense than coming here
after
doing the deed.” She gestured to the door and waited.
after
doing the deed.” She gestured to the door and waited.
Samuel
went through the contents of his pockets, then cursed softly. “Damn. Must still be on my kitchen table. But step aside. Getting in is easy.”
went through the contents of his pockets, then cursed softly. “Damn. Must still be on my kitchen table. But step aside. Getting in is easy.”
“It’s locked,” Ella warned.
“Yeah, but the lock isn’t worth crap.” He lifted the knob, jiggled the door, and it popped open. “I’ve been meaning to put on a deadbolt, but there’s nothing of value inside. My brother’s TV, radio,
and electronics are all over
at my place. Most of his good clothes too.”
and electronics are all over
at my place. Most of his good clothes too.”
Samuel took a few steps into the room. Ella stepped around him to get a clearer view of the living room. At a glance she could tell that the place had been searched—but not tossed—as burglars were prone to do. On the desk, which held mostly papers and old mail, she could see small, clean areas because the movement and replacement of letters hadn’t been
exact. A thick, worn spiral notebook was in another spot. It was virtually dust free on top but not the edges. Something that had rested on top of it had been removed.
exact. A thick, worn spiral notebook was in another spot. It was virtually dust free on top but not the edges. Something that had rested on top of it had been removed.
Without picking it up, she turned a few pages and saw it was a writing journal for James Blacksheep’s English Four high school class. She crouched down, noting footprints on the vinyl floor leading to places farther into the house.
“Someone has been here. They looked through things, and didn’t put them back in exactly the same place, so the dust markings are off. And check out the floor.”
“Someone has been here. They looked through things, and didn’t put them back in exactly the same place, so the dust markings are off. And check out the floor.”
Samuel saw what she was referring to, then added, “They looked behind the photos hung on the wall, too. They’re slightly off-kilter.” His voice reverberated with anger. “So they killed him, and then came here to see what else they could
take from him?”
take from him?”
“Probably the other way around, but either way, this wasn’t a regular burglary,” she said. “Who else has a key?”
“No one.”
“The intruder was here recently, or else the clear spots would have been covered by dust by now. And whoever was here wanted to hide their entry. But this may not be connected to the carjacking,” she said, thinking out loud.
“Yeah, you’re right A burglar
would have trashed the place. Whoever did this was careful—just not careful enough.” He turned around in a circle, then shrugged. “Nothing’s missing that I can tell.”
would have trashed the place. Whoever did this was careful—just not careful enough.” He turned around in a circle, then shrugged. “Nothing’s missing that I can tell.”
“Something was taken from on top of this old spiral notebook. Any idea what it could have been?” Ella indicated the spot.
He nodded. “Another spiral notebook. But that’s weird. Why
would anyone want it? My brother kept his stories—kid
stories he wrote—in those. He wants … wanted to write children’s books someday. Who’d take them?”
would anyone want it? My brother kept his stories—kid
stories he wrote—in those. He wants … wanted to write children’s books someday. Who’d take them?”
“Suppose he hid something valuable between the pages? Money or paychecks?”
“Maybe. But there were four or five notebooks there. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Could be we’ll find them outside,” Ella said.
Ella led Samuel back outside. She wouldn’t risk compromising the scene any more than they’ve already
done. With luck, Justine would be able to lift prints. She called her partner, filled her in, then turned her attention back to Samuel. “Tell me about your brother.”
done. With luck, Justine would be able to lift prints. She called her partner, filled her in, then turned her attention back to Samuel. “Tell me about your brother.”
“He returned to Fort Bliss about three weeks ago and was released from service yesterday. He was going to drive home in a rental car since his pickup is at my home in Farmington.”
“You said
car
. Do you know if he might have rented
a pickup instead?” Ella asked, knowing that was the carjackers’ vehicle of choice. “I have no idea.”
car
. Do you know if he might have rented
a pickup instead?” Ella asked, knowing that was the carjackers’ vehicle of choice. “I have no idea.”
“Where did Jimmy work locally before his unit shipped overseas?”
“At Jensen’s Lumber in Farmington. But he was planning to quit after he returned. My brother was saving up to pay for some classes at the community college. Writing classes, mostly.”
Samuel turned away from her, stared at the house
for a few seconds, then faced her again. “I want to be kept current on any progress you make. I need to make sure that we catch whoever did this and that he pays.”
for a few seconds, then faced her again. “I want to be kept current on any progress you make. I need to make sure that we catch whoever did this and that he pays.”
She’d expected nothing less. Ella met his gaze and held it. “I’ve been in a situation similar to yours, so I know what kind of things are racing through your mind. But
I’m
in charge of this investigation. I’ll keep you informed as
much as I can, but this is
my
case. If you start getting in my way, you’ll mess up things for everyone—except your brother’s killer.”
I’m
in charge of this investigation. I’ll keep you informed as
much as I can, but this is
my
case. If you start getting in my way, you’ll mess up things for everyone—except your brother’s killer.”
“What do you expect
me
to do? Sit on the sidelines?” he countered. “I can help you,” he insisted walking back to her car, Ella
beside him. “I’m investigating the carjackings going down outside the Rez. And from what I saw, it’s almost certain that the perps who’ve
been running roughshod all over the Four Corners are the same ones who murdered my brother today. Our departments are supposed to be working together on this,” Samuel said, his eyes flat and hooded—a cop’s gaze that revealed nothing and spoke volumes. “That makes it my business—officially. And if someone had it in for my brother, I’m going to find out who, like it or not.”
me
to do? Sit on the sidelines?” he countered. “I can help you,” he insisted walking back to her car, Ella
beside him. “I’m investigating the carjackings going down outside the Rez. And from what I saw, it’s almost certain that the perps who’ve
been running roughshod all over the Four Corners are the same ones who murdered my brother today. Our departments are supposed to be working together on this,” Samuel said, his eyes flat and hooded—a cop’s gaze that revealed nothing and spoke volumes. “That makes it my business—officially. And if someone had it in for my brother, I’m going to find out who, like it or not.”
“Noted,” Ella said.
At this point it would make sense to suspect a strong connection to the carjacking ring. “Now tell me something I don’t know. How come you didn’t go pick up your brother?” Ella asked. “You knew when he was coming home, and it’s only a six-hour-plus drive to Albuquerque and back.”
At this point it would make sense to suspect a strong connection to the carjacking ring. “Now tell me something I don’t know. How come you didn’t go pick up your brother?” Ella asked. “You knew when he was coming home, and it’s only a six-hour-plus drive to Albuquerque and back.”
“I was filling in for someone on the day shift and couldn’t get off,” he answered, then after a brief pause added,
“But that wasn’t the only reason. I probably could have found a way had I wanted to. You might as well find out now that my brother and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. I’ve only spoken to him once on the phone since he got back to the States.”
“But that wasn’t the only reason. I probably could have found a way had I wanted to. You might as well find out now that my brother and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. I’ve only spoken to him once on the phone since he got back to the States.”
“What was the problem between you two?”
He shrugged. “Except for politics, he and I disagreed on practically everything. We were brothers,
but we haven’t been friends for a very long time.”
but we haven’t been friends for a very long time.”
Samuel was in front of her, resting against the car door, but wouldn’t look directly at her for more than a few seconds at a time. He was either distracted or holding out on her. Ella watched him carefully. Depending on where he’d been at the time of Jimmy Blacksheep’s death, Samuel might soon become a suspect “Where were you at around seven
this morning?”
this morning?”
He stood up straight, the vein in his forehead bulging. “You think
I
killed my brother? Where the hell did that come from?” he said, then took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
I
killed my brother? Where the hell did that come from?” he said, then took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
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