Changing Woman (32 page)

She met his gaze and held it. “I wish I’d only come to thank you for getting the vests for my team, but I didn’t. I just experienced something that made me realize that you and Paycheck have been holding back on me. Paycheck’s not here now, so how about giving me some information off the record?”

“What do you need?”

“You’re being passed information by the same guy who’s been helping
me, right?”

Blalock regarded her thoughtfully. “I wondered how long it would take before you asked me that.”

Ella watched him wrestling between Bureau procedures and his own instincts. It was a familiar battle. All cops, federal and local, were buried under a ton of rules and regulations but, in some cases, bending the rules became critical to a favorable outcome.

“What I tell you stays strictly
between us, clear? Someone’s neck is on the line, and he’s been given a long leash so backup can’t be there to help him out if he’s made.”

Ella nodded.

“Our contact goes by the name of Trickster.”

“I know him as Coyote. Same thing, really, at least if you ask a Navajo.”

“I know his identity, and I can tell you that he’s a good man, but he’s in pretty deep on this case. He’s been offered the
chance to bail a few times already but he didn’t take it, and now I’m afraid that his luck may be about to run out.”

“I know who he is, too,” Ella said. “I saw him today by accident. At least I didn’t give him away.”

Blalock nodded slowly. “He wants to dig up details on the latest scam the syndicate is brewing before he breaks cover. Apparently they’ve decided to pull out all the stops. No more
penny-ante outhouse explosions or busting windshields. They intend to kick something into motion that will make the scandal Talk laid out in the paper seem like a wedgie by comparison.”

Ella sat up. “Does he have any idea what it is?”

“Not yet. Apparently the people he’s dealing with suspect that they’ve got a traitor in their midst and they’re all watching each other now, waiting for a slipup.”

“Coyote’s definitely playing a dangerous game,” Ella said, still protecting him as had Blalock by never mentioning his name.

Blalock nodded. “I’m expecting to hear from him again soon, but there’s no way of knowing how much advance notice we’ll have to stop whatever’s going to happen. That’s why I’ve stuck real close to my desk and my computer lately.”

“If you hear before I do, pass the word
to me as soon as you can.”

“Count on it. And vice versa, Ella. You know you’ve got backup here, not just thicker vests.”

“Thanks.”

Blalock looked at her as she stood. “Where are you headed now?”

“I’m not going to wait for Coyote to get in touch. I’m going to try and figure out what the syndicate’s next move is going to be. If it’s that big, there should be telltale rumblings somewhere.”

Ella went out to her unit, lost in thought. There was only one person she was certain would know if something was brewing that involved Navajos. Without hesitation, she switched on the ignition and drove to her brother, Clifford’s, house.

The sun had already set and the moon was bright in the clear deep purple sky as she drove south down Highway 666, occasionally gazing at the mountains off to
the west beyond Shiprock. She’d never thought about them much when she’d been a kid living on the Rez; they’d always been there, hazy blue in the summer and a cold gray-green in the winter.

But these days she could feel the comfort that living within the shadow of the sacred mountains brought to her people. Even in times of trouble, their heights were
a sign of strength and things that endure.
The tall peaks and long ridges were a part of the
Dineh,
who carried their soil in medicine bundles and offered prayers to them.

As she drove up the narrow trail that led to her brother’s house and medicine hogan, she caught sight of the white cloud rising from the hogan’s smoke hole, and saw a saddled horse tied up to the simple hitching post not far away.

Ella parked the SUV so that it was
visible from the entrance and waited. Soon she saw her brother emerge, and a man she guessed was his patient unfastened the rope that tethered the horse, slipped easily onto the saddle, then rode away as if glued to the animal.

Seeing Clifford waving for her to enter, she climbed out of the unit and went inside.

“I couldn’t see his face, but from the way he got on that horse the man had to be
of the Red House Clan,” Ella said with a smile. “Families from that outfit,” Ella said, using the word Navajos preferred when referring to neighboring family groups, “always seem to do well at the rodeos.”

“They do have a way with horses,” Clifford agreed with a nod. “And you’re right. It was one of them, the grandfather who lives over by Big Gap,” he added. “Age hasn’t affected him much. He’s
just as active as any of his sons or grandsons.”

Ella sat down on the sheepskin rug. “There’s always an incredible sense of peace in your medicine hogan,” she said quietly, staring at the fire.

He sat across from her. “Then rest here awhile. You live and work in a very troubled world.”

“So do you,
hataalii.”

“Yes, but peace always surrounds my work. I don’t think you can say that about yours.”

“No, I can’t,” Ella admitted. For a long time she said nothing and Clifford didn’t interrupt her thoughts. “I’m in trouble, brother,” she said at last.

“How can I help?”

“The tribe’s enemies have something in the works and, unless I find out what it is and who the players are, I won’t be able to stop them.”

“I’ve felt the stirrings around me. Even the Fierce Ones can’t control or influence
what’s been happening.”

“What’s going on since I talked to you last? You have all been silent for months.”

“There’s been a serious split. I could see it coming, and that’s the main reason I stayed with them. The Fierce Ones started out as a vigilante group that would enforce traditional laws and codes of conduct—like forcing adults to keep better track of their kids. Now there’s a group within
the group who believe it’s time for the Fierce Ones to accept a new mandate. They support gaming as a way to ease the Navajo people’s financial crisis—but they want to make sure they’re in a position to oversee everything so that corruption doesn’t get a foothold. This new agenda has really divided us, and as long as we’re fighting among ourselves, we aren’t much good to anyone else.”

“Tell me
something—do you think this new agenda was something the splinter group adopted because of outside influences?” Ella asked.

“You mean were they manipulated or pressured into accepting gaming?” Clifford shrugged. “Yes, but only by the times. People need to find answers that’ll put food on their tables and keep their houses warm.”

“I’m beginning to think that gaming’s our only shortterm option.
I can’t think of another way to stop this cycle of poverty, can you?” Ella mused, not really expecting an answer.

“Our mother brought up a suggestion,” he said.

“At a meeting of the Fierce Ones?” She’d really thought that nothing her mother could do would surprise her anymore. Now she realized she’d been wrong.

Clifford laughed. “No, she’s not a member of the
Fierce Ones. She mentioned it to
me, and I passed on the suggestion to the others.”

Ella breathed easier. “What was it?”

“She wants to set up a vast Internet site.”

“Mom said
that?”

Clifford laughed. “Yeah, it surprised me, too. But apparently she’d been watching you go on-line and surf the waves or whatever they call it.”

Ella chuckled. “This conversation seems really strange, considering our surroundings,” she said, glancing
around the hogan.

Clifford nodded. “Keeping the old, but embracing the new. That’s what we’re all going to have to do, it seems. I shudder to think that the new traditionalists may have stumbled on the right path for the tribe to take.”

“I wouldn’t go that far yet. So tell me about the Internet idea.”

“Mom thinks the tribe should operate it and provide Navajo artists and craftsmen with a worldwide
outlet for their work. In return, a percentage of everything that was sold would go back to the tribe.”

“I don’t think that’ll bring in enough revenue.”

“She also suggested we take tribal treasures, like our best jewelry, art, and historical items and have some of our people accompany them on a worldwide tour of museums at every major city. The admission would also create revenue for the tribe.”

“I’m impressed. Mom’s really been thinking things through.”

“Wait, there’s more.” Clifford looked at his sister. “Brace yourself. It suggests that our mother is not one hundred percent traditionalist after all.”

Ella looked at him with an expectant grin.

“She read that the Russian air force is raising money to pay their bills by allowing people to come and ride in their war planes and charging
them incredible sums of money. That gave her an idea. She wants to charge substantial fees and invite people to come in and see
what it’s like to live in a hogan for a day or two, cleanse themselves in sweat lodges, or go visit a sacred site, or even be allowed to attend a three- or four-day Sing, following all the ritual precautions, of course.

“Then she said that she learned this is actually
being done on the Arizona side of the Rez, at least by a few Navajos. Mom said that as long as the guests are required to follow our customs during their visit, that at least the outsiders are getting an education for their money. They’ll be learning instead of simply losing their money to gambling.”

Ella stared at her brother, as surprised as if he’d told her that Rose had decided to spike her
hair and dye it pink. “Okay. Promoting tourism? That settles it. Our mother was abducted by aliens. The woman posing as her is an imposter. We need to take her back to Roswell and make the exchange.”

Clifford laughed. “For years she spent all her time taking care of Dad and of us, but did you know that as a young woman she was always active in tribal business? Not politics, no, but teaching others
how to treat certain illnesses with Native herbs, helping to train midwives, and making sure that the companies that tore up our land, like the uranium companies, restored what they’d destroyed? Of course the damage from that is something we’re all still paying for. Many Navajos have become ill as a result of radiation poisoning from the waste that contaminated our waters. But Mom and others
like her fought hard to get them to clean up some of the damage.”

“She never mentioned any of that before.” Ella paused. “Of course, in all fairness, I never asked, either. She was always just Mom.”

“I know. It was the same for me. But, apparently, she needs more in her life now.”

Ella nodded. “I’ve got to tell you, I really miss the mom I grew up with.”

Clifford laughed. “Because she always
catered to you.”

“What are you talking about? She didn’t always cater to me.
You
were her favorite because you and she think alike.”

“Yes, but you were the one who gave her the biggest headaches, and problem children always get special treatment,” Clifford retorted smoothly. “One of the reasons they become problem children, I think.”

“You’re nuts. I was—” Ella stopped speaking and smiled. “My
world is coming apart at the seams and we’re talking about who Mom liked best.”

Clifford laughed. “Some habits die hard.”

“Tell me more about this splinter group that came from the ranks of the Fierce Ones. What did they think of Mom’s suggestions?”

“They like them, but they also want faster action. They’re looking for the quickest way to ease the crisis, not just the best long-term solution.”

“That’s what I was worried about. Would they take matters into their own hands and create trouble just to put pressure on the rest of the tribe?”

“Possibly.”

“Do they have anything cooked up right now?”

“I couldn’t tell you. These people will never speak freely around me because they know I’m not in sympathy with them. Though they’re still part of the Fierce Ones, they really don’t share their
plans with the rest of us. We’ve allowed them to continue calling themselves Fierce Ones because this is the best chance we have of keeping tabs on them.”

Ella nodded. “Okay. Just know that there’s something brewing on the Rez that may or may not be connected with what you’ve been telling me, and it’s going to hit the fan soon. So tell me if you hear about anything going down.”

“You’ve got it.”
Clifford paused, then after a moment
added, “You know, Mom may be of more use to you on this than I am.”

“How so?”

“You know her group of herbalists, the Plant Watchers, is made up mostly of elderly people. Their age often tends to make them all but invisible to the younger ones, who’ll speak freely around them without giving them a second thought. You may find Mom’s group quite valuable to
you now.”

“Come to think of it, they’ve been helpful before. And it’s not like I’m asking them to become spies, I just want to know if they’ve overheard anything helpful. Thanks for the reminder.”

Ella drove home quickly. One way or another, she intended to find out what the Indian syndicate was going to do next.

When she arrived home, Ella saw Justine’s unit parked there and, fearing trouble,
ran inside. Her mother was supervising Jennifer with dinner while Dawn played alone with her new log set in the living room. Everything was quiet, though Justine was nowhere in sight.

Looking up and seeing Ella, Dawn held out her arms.
“Shimá!”

Not “Mommy” this time. She knew that Rose had undoubtedly spoken to Dawn about that. Ella smiled, picked up her daughter, and gave her a hug.

“I missed
you,” Ella said.

“Butterfly kiss!” Dawn said.

Ella fluttered her lashes against Dawn’s cheek, then allowed her daughter to do the same to her.

“I’m hungry,” Dawn said.

Rose came out of the kitchen and smiled at her daughter and granddaughter.

“Where’s my cousin?” Ella asked quickly, meaning Justine.

“She asked to use your computer while she was waiting for you to get home.”