Authors: David Thurlo
“I wish you would let me do something for you, like fix you a bite to eat,” Gloria called out. “Are you sure
you’re not hungry?”
“You have taken care of my granddaughter’s meals, and that’s enough for now. I’ll eat later when my daughter returns.”
Gloria exhaled softly, then sat down on the floor to play with Dawn.
Rose looked around what had once been her husband’s study. It was now part office, part sewing room, but it still felt like John’s domain. Sitting down on one of the upholstered chairs,
she looked down at her hands. Even without the injury, they still belonged to an old woman. She’d always made it a point to hide her age from her children, but in another two months she would turn sixty-six.
Rose stood before the mirror. The soft wrinkles on her face spoke of more than years, they reflected a life often punctuated by harshness. Yet, inside, she still clung to
her hopes and dreams,
waiting for the right time to act on them, just like when she’d been twenty.
Rose reached into her pocket and brought out a photo taken at the Chapter House party a few months ago. Herman Cloud stood beside her, close but not touching. After John’s death, she’d thought she’d never fall in love again. She’d thought herself too old for that nonsense. But she knew now that she had feelings for Herman.
He saw the world with the same weary eyes that she did and yet, like her, he burned with the same need to protect the legacy of the
Dineh.
She placed the photo back in her pocket. Some things were better kept from one’s children.
Feeling a tug of her long skirt, Rose looked down and smiled at her granddaughter. “What is it,
hatsóí,
my daughter’s child?”
“Shimá
coming home now,” Dawn said in
a very certain voice.
Rose looked at her granddaughter. All the women in their family had received the gift of intuition, and Dawn seemed to have gotten an early start.
“She’ll be here, soon,” Rose said.
Dawn nodded. “Coming home,” she repeated firmly, then returned to her toys.
Rose smiled. At least her granddaughter wasn’t boring. So much of life these days was. That was one of the main
reasons she’d become so involved in trying to keep gambling off the Rez. Even at her age, Rose knew she still had a lot to offer the tribe. She loved taking care of her daughter and granddaughter, but she now wanted more out of her life than that.
Ella crouched beside Sam Pete on the roof of the old hogan, a bit warmer now that she’d borrowed an extra coat from the bomb squad officer. ATF would not be able to respond for another hour, so Sam was all they had.
Sam hadn’t been able to examine the bomb layout inside through the smoke hole without using heavy binoculars and a large, powerful flashlight. He’d had trouble aiming both at
the precise spot simultaneously, so Ella had volunteered to hold the light for him.
Since both the entrance and hole in the side had been crossed with trip wires that would set off the detonator, Sam’s plan was to use the ladder to climb down through the smoke hole and disarm the bomb.
“Shine the light on that timer now, so I can see exactly how many minutes I’m going to have to disarm the device,”
Sam asked.
Ella moved the beam of light toward the small black timer, not much larger than a wristwatch display, which lay on top of a mass of duct tape, sticks of explosives, batteries, wires, and pieces of cardboard. Without the binoculars, she couldn’t read the numbers on the timer, though she was less than ten feet above the bomb.
“It looks like I have fifteen minutes left,” Sam called to
Ella loud enough for the others, at a safe distance away, to hear. “That’s enough time for me to disarm it by disconnecting the batteries leading to the detonator.”
Together, they pulled the narrow ladder up onto the domed roof of the hogan, and lowered it inside through the smoke hole, maneuvering it carefully so it didn’t
make contact with any wires or portion of the bomb. While Ella lit his
way with the flashlight, Sam squeezed himself carefully through the narrow opening and went down.
Crouched beside the bomb, Sam looked at it more closely. “This is more complicated than I thought,” he said, taking at least another five minutes to examine the device without touching anything. At long last, he reached into his jacket pockets and brought out two wire cutters.
“We’ve still got a
few minutes, but I don’t dare move anything because I just don’t know what’s underneath all that duct tape—maybe a mercury switch that will set it off if I jiggle things. The best bet is still to simultaneously cut the two wires leading to the batteries. Ella, you’d better put some distance between you and the hogan. I’m making an educated guess here, that’s all,” Sam said, looking up at her.
“Who’s going to hold the light? You need both hands to cut the wires at the same time. You’re stuck with me, Sam,” Ella replied, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Okay, then,” he said with a nod. “Here goes.”
He knelt down and positioned both cutters on the wires leading to the batteries, then holding his breath, snipped both at once. The only sound either one of them could hear was the wind whistling
through the cracks in the hogan walls.
“Oh-oh,” Sam said. “These batteries must be dummies. The real ones are probably somewhere inside all that duct tape.” He paused, then shouted. “It’s started a twenty second countdown! Get out of here, Ella.”
Sam virtually ran up the ladder, and Ella grabbed hold of his arms and yanked him onto the roof.
Sliding down on her behind, Ella dropped off the
roof without even considering the distance. She hit the frozen ground hard, rolled from the impact, then took off running. “Head for the ditch,” she yelled at Sam, who was a few seconds behind her.
“Fire in the hole!” Sam yelled as he sprinted up even with her. He reached out to grab her hand, then tripped over a clump of brush and fell flat on his face.
“Keep going!” Sam yelled, scrambling
to stand, but Ella turned back and yanked him to his feet.
“Now we’ll go!” Ella saw the ditch ahead and jumped down into it, Sam beside her.
“Cover your ears,” Sam said, ducking down.
Time seemed to stand still. Ella didn’t know how many seconds had gone by, but nothing happened.
“Well, is it going off, or not?” she asked.
“It’s cold. Maybe the batteries—” Sam’s words were drowned out as
a deafening roar shook the earth around them, blowing chunks of log and earth over their heads. The wave of heat that enveloped them was almost a welcome relief from the bitter cold, but the shock wave left her ears ringing. Debris rained all around them.
As she turned her head, she saw Sam Pete. He was smiling, though his face was covered with dust and grime. “You say something?”
Ella stood
by the SUV, now closer to the blasted ruins of the hogan, with Blalock beside her. “This was a real well planned setup,” she said, still brushing off the dirt and dust. “If anyone had tried to crawl in through the side hole or the entrance, they would have died in the explosion. And the timer was set to go off as soon as it got dark, around the time anyone staking out the place might have decided
to make their move. I have a feeling that Manyfarms let himself be seen by someone he knew would recognize him just to draw us here, hoping some of us would be caught by the bomb delivered by the Indian with the hat. I’m sure Artie Manyfarms knows Harry’s on his tail, and would ask for backup from someone he knew and trusted.”
“Agreed. But that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding
him,” Blalock
answered, “or whoever the guy was who prepared the surprise.”
“I owe you big-time, Ella,” Sam Pete said, joining them.
She accepted the cup of coffee he was offering her from his thermos bottle. “Don’t give it another thought,” she said, her voice still unsteady. “Helping each other is part of the job.”
Sam shook his head. “I won’t forget that you stuck with me. That took balls, Ella.”
“Er...
thanks, I think. But, to be honest, I really felt we’d both reach the ditch with a few seconds to spare.” Had she considered it at length, and weighed the odds more carefully, she wasn’t sure she would have still stayed back to haul Sam to his feet. She owed herself and her family more than that. And one look at Blalock’s face told her that he thought she’d been recklessly loyal or stupid. She
couldn’t tell which.
“Okay. Let’s move on,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee, which was surprisingly warm.
“I’ll gather up all the pieces and reconstruct the device. As soon as I have something, I’ll let you know,” Sam said.
Ella saw the anger and determination on his face, and didn’t doubt his resolve for a minute. Sam would do his best to come through for her.
“Let’s start searching,”
Ella said. “With this wind, we may lose bits of crucial evidence if we wait until morning.”
“I’ll get a lantern from the back of my car,” Blalock said.
Neskahi joined them at the tail end of the discussion. “I’ll take Ralph Tache back for the crime-scene van. It has floodlights and a generator.”
They spent the next three hours searching the carefully marked off perimeter with methodical precision.
Due to the harsh weather and wide debris field, Tache used a video camera equipped with flood lamps to physically
record the crime scene. Every shred of material—plastic, metal, or paper—that might have been part of the device was filmed, coded by site location, and photographed in place before being bagged and tagged.
At long last everyone gathered by Blalock’s sedan. “Okay. What do we have?”
Sam Pete was the first one to speak. “The explosives look like the same type and brand as those used in the random bombings we’ve been having, except that this one had a timer and electrical detonator instead of a nonelectrical blasting cap and fuse.”
“Then we’ve already uncovered something important,” Ella said. “Manyfarms must have made contact with the people responsible for the bombings,
and one of them placed the bomb for him.”
“I managed to lift some prints from the silver pickup we suspect was used in the sniper incident,” Justine added. “I’ll process them tonight before I call it a day.”
“Look, we’re all half-frozen,” Ella said. “And it’s been a long night. Let’s head home and get an early start tomorrow.”
Justine shook her head. “First, those prints, then I’ll crash.”
“I’m with you, Ella,” Blalock said, and Neskahi concurred. “Better to get a fresh start in the morning than work when we’re so tired we could miss something important.”
Payestewa remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Is something bothering you, Lucas?” Ella asked at last.
He considered his answer carefully. “It appears to me that we were set up by a group of people, not just one or two. That
means we, meaning the Bureau, need to get more actively involved in the vandalism investigations the Tribal PD have been handling exclusively till now, particularly in this area. The lesser crimes appear to be linked to the major ones.”
Ella said nothing. She hated the thought of feds crawling around the Rez handling their case, but it could have
been worse. Blalock and Payestewa’s connections
would be helpful. And Harry … well, at least he was Navajo.
As everyone got ready to leave, Ella smiled when she saw Harry putting his rifle on the rack in the back of his pickup. The habit was shared by most on the reservation. He may be a deputy federal marshal now, but he belonged to the Rez and the Rez to him.
“Hey, Harry. Why don’t you come by tonight? Mom would love to see you.”
“Does
the invitation include dinner? I’m starving,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, but I’ll have to do the cooking.”
“Oh.”
Ella laughed. “Try not to look as if you think that means a serving of ptomaine with a side dish of salmonella, will ya?”
“It’s not that. I just remember that your idea of breakfast is a tortilla with butter. I’d like my meals more substantial. I’m a growing boy.”
“Hey, now it’s
a matter of pride. Ya gotta come.” Harry laughed. “Okay. Let’s see what you can whip up, lady.”
As Harry followed her home in his truck, Ella tried to quiet her conscience. The truth was that she’d had an ulterior motive for inviting Harry over tonight. She’d been gone all day and she had no idea how Gloria and Rose had gotten along. If there had been trouble, Ella knew Rose would keep a lid
on it until after Harry left, and she could face an argument with her mom a lot better on a full stomach.
She arrived forty-five minutes later. Knowing Harry was not far behind her, Ella hurried from her car. She could at least warn her mother and postpone any major problems. As Ella opened the front door, Gloria met her. The young woman had the wary look of someone just coming out of combat.
“Was it that bad?” Ella asked softly, already suspecting the answer.
Gloria gave her a wan smile. “Your mother, I think, will be better off with someone else. I’m no traditionalist, Ella, and I forget things like not using proper names. I just wasn’t raised with the old ways.”
With only those few words Gloria had given Ella an accurate picture of how the day had gone. “Do me a favor?” Seeing
her nod, Ella looked at her watch. “It’s not too late. Call Jennifer Clani and ask if she can take your place tomorrow. I’ll pay her whatever she asks. If she agrees, you’re off the hook.”
“I’ll get her to come if I have to pay her myself.” Grabbing her coat, Gloria whispered good-bye and slipped out the door.
Rose came out of the kitchen, anger putting a spark in her eyes. “You’ve been gone
since early morning, daughter. For a modernist, you’ve never heard of a telephone?”
Suddenly a man’s heavy footsteps sounded on the porch and, hoping for the best, Ella opened the door. Rose’s expression changed in the blink of an eye.
“You’re back, Deputy Marshal!” Rose said with a bright smile. “And you’ve come to visit. That’s wonderful!”
“Your daughter promised to cook dinner for me. I’m
used to danger, so I accepted,” Harry teased.
Rose looked at her daughter, a bemused expression on her face. “What do you plan to fix?”