Never-ending-snake (14 page)

“And that’s why the new Plant Watcher has decided to take part in the project,” Ella said, referring to Abigail. “If there’s good
publicity to be had . . .”

“Daughter, you’re too hard on her,” Rose answered. “We have our family. Our lives are full, but she has very little except for money, which, in this case, I understand she’s invested every last dime in the project. It explains her enthusiasm, I suppose. Her biological daughter passed on years ago in that accident, then her husband was shot dead. She adopted that other
girl, who turned out to be a criminal. Poverty isn’t the only evil among us.”

“Mom, you’ve got too good of a heart, but don’t trust her, okay? People don’t change,” Ella added, recalling with amusement Blalock’s description of Abigail as the “she wolf.”

“Some do,” Rose answered quietly, not noticing the hint of a smile on Ella’s face. “But let’s not talk about this now. I’m too tired.” She stood
and walked to the doorway. “I’m going to bed early. I’ve had a very long day.”

Ella said good night, then as her mother disappeared from view, went down the hall. To her disappointment Dawn had already turned off her lights. She’d hoped to spend a little more time with her daughter tonight.

As she went to her own room, she tried not to think about Abigail Yellowhair or the PPS job that hung
in the balance. These days, it was always there in the back of her mind. But there were other priorities now. She had to find whoever had attacked Adam and Kevin before she could shift her attention to anything else.

Police work—she lived it and breathed it on a daily basis. It defined her and filled her with purpose. And sometimes it was the only thing in her life that made perfect sense.

Ella woke early the following morning. The household wasn’t up, so she made coffee as she phoned Justine.

“I was just about to call you,” Justine answered. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Sure do. Then we’ll go over to the casino’s business offices. Let’s see if we can figure out where the money Adam was carrying came from.”

“We need to find out more about Grady,” Justine said. “Benny said
that he followed up on what you’d told him and that Grady’s alibi seems to check out. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t set up the hit. We need to find out more about the man—unofficially.”

“Do you know someone who could help us do that?” she asked, sensing what Justine had left unsaid.

“I sure do. My second cousin, Martin, on my dad’s side, works for the casino.”

“What’s he do there?”

“He’s
the assistant office manager—and as honest as the day is long, Ella. I don’t want to approach him at the office because I wouldn’t want to jeopardize his job. But it’s barely seven now. If we hurry, we might be able to catch him before he leaves for work.”

“Where’s he live?”

“In Fruitland—not far from the casino, actually.”

“Then get here as soon as you can,” Ella said, knowing it was a half-hour
drive from her house. Fruitland was east of Shiprock and adjacent to Kirtland. The casino was south of that valley community, just across the San Juan River and on tribal land.

“I’m on my way to your house now,” Justine said. “I should be there in ten or less.”

Ella stepped outside and Two came out with her. The old mutt—a rescue who’d just shown up one day—loved
the early morning sun. He usually
lay out on the hard ground beside the porch, soaking up the rays. Ella bent down to pet him. Though Two was getting up in years, he was in remarkably good shape.

“Hey, buddy,” Ella said softly.

The mutt wagged his tail furiously, then lay beside her as she sat on the porch swing Herman had built for her mother.

Two was the perfect family dog. Whenever anyone was sick or troubled about something,
Two would remain with them until the crisis passed. He was a good friend to each of them, but he favored Rose. Her mother, in turn, adored the dog and was always cooking or buying special treats for the guy.

A short time later, just as Ella finished her coffee, Justine pulled up. Ella scratched Two behind the ears one more time, got into the car, and fastened her seat belt. “Tell me more about
this cousin of yours,” she said as they got underway.

“He and I have always been good friends. I called right after I spoke to you, just to make sure we caught him. He said to come over and he’d do his best to help us.”

They arrived at a small house below the mesa along the San Juan River a short distance from Kirtland. There was a well-tended apple orchard surrounding the white cottage, and
the apples looked ready to drop. A young Navajo man in his late twenties, short like Justine, came out to meet them as the vehicle tires were crunching in the gravel drive.

“I’ve got fresh coffee inside,” he said, opening the gate on the white picket fence and gesturing for them to follow him.

As they sat around the kitchen table, he placed mugs of fresh coffee before them. “I don’t have to
be at work until nine, and the drive takes less than ten minutes. That means I’ve got plenty of time, so fire away.”

Ella sipped the coffee and found it incredibly good. Choosing to take it as an omen, she leaned back in her chair. “You’ve heard about the shooting outside Shiprock, right?”

“It even made CNN—of course I know about that,” he answered. “And since Kevin Tolino’s the one after Grady,
people are saying that Alan’s behind it somehow. But I don’t believe it. It’s too obvious, and my boss isn’t stupid.”

“Then who do you think is responsible?” Justine asked him.

“I don’t think it’s got anything to do with the casino. If I had to guess I’d say it’s an enemy one of you guys made, you in particular, Ella. Talk to Grady yourself, you’ll see. The man’s too smart and too smooth to
pull something this brazen.” He paused. “Of course, all the talk going around took its toll, so right now he’s going to be hard to find.”

“Why’s that?” Ella asked. “He’s not going in to work, or what?”

“The tribal president called Grady yesterday at work and placed him on a paid leave of absence until the investigation is finished. Mind you, Grady doesn’t take me into his confidence, I’m just
a minor league player, but I know his assistant. Betsy Dodge and I get along great, and she and I talk all the time.”

“Do you have any idea what the reason was for the leave of absence?” Justine asked. “It can’t be just because of the talk.”

“You didn’t hear this from me, okay? But here’s what went down,” he said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, though no one else was around. “According
to Betsy, Grady got a call last week from BIA honchos in Washington. Some of Grady’s business contacts are suspected organized crime figures in Arizona who—as it turns out—have investments in a tribal casino. There’s already an investigation underway in that state about money laundering and political corruption associated with casino activity, and Grady ended up in
a BIA report as a person of
interest. The tribal attorney general’s office found out about that almost right away and since the tribal president had asked to be kept in the loop, they informed him shortly thereafter.”

“Is there any proof connecting Grady with the corruption in Arizona?” Ella asked.

“Not enough to obtain warrants or bring charges, but the tribal president is being extra careful, politically speaking, and
wants to cover his butt. That’s why Grady’s on paid leave.”

“Does Grady have any close contacts on the tribal council, people he might want to rely on now to keep him in place?” Ella asked.

“The only person in the council I know he’s tight with is Cardell Natani. They often have dinner at the casino.”

Ella knew Natani. He’d been pro-casino since the very beginning, seeing it as an expedient
way to raise cash and give the tribe a steady flow of income. Although she’d also heard that he had a bit of a gambling problem, no one had ever tried to use that against him.

“So the person we need to talk to is Grady’s assistant, Betsy,” Ella said, thinking out loud.

“Yeah, but don’t tell her you spoke to me. In fact, don’t tell anyone at the casino office that you even know me, okay?”

“No
problem,” Ella assured him.

Martin glanced at Justine. “I owe you big time, so whenever you need my help, just ask. Thanks to you, I was finally able to get Dad to accept the fact that I wasn’t going to join the military.” He looked at Ella and continued. “My dad spent his entire life in the Army and he always assumed that I’d follow in his footsteps. But I’m not cut out for that kind of life.”

As they got back into the car, Justine glanced at her and explained. “Martin’s a gentle soul. He never even went out
for sports—too much competition. His dad thinks he’s a wuss, but Martin’s just a nice guy who happens to hate violence of any kind.”

“I hate it, too, but it’s part of life,” Ella answered.

“You and I are cut from a different mold.”

On the way, Ella used the onboard computer and
printer to generate photos of the shooting victims. “Let’s see if Betsy has seen Kevin or Adam at the casino or with any of the employees.” Ella then accessed some of their available databases.

They arrived at the casino a short time later. “I ran a check on Betsy. She’s clean,” Ella said. “According to what I could find, she’s in her mid-twenties and has been working at the casino since it opened.
Everyone employed by the tribe, especially at one of the casinos, has had background checks.”

“Let’s see what Betsy can tell us,” Justine said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that if you want details about the boss, you should ask his assistant.”

They found Betsy Dodge typing away at a computer keyboard, a stack of colored folders on the desk beside her. When Ella introduced
herself, Betsy stiffened noticeably and quickly exited the program she was running—something that looked like a personnel file.

“How can I help you?” she asked coldly.

“We’d like to talk to you about an ongoing criminal investigation. Is there someplace we can go?” Ella asked.

“Right now’s a real bad time. My boss is going to be away for a while and I need to get some last minute details sorted
for him.”

“Then take us to see him,” Ella said, immediately taking advantage of this unexpected stroke of luck.

As they walked inside the spacious office, they saw Alan Grady, a short, balding Anglo in his sixties, placing several file folders into an expensive looking alligator-skin briefcase.
Seeing Ella and Justine, and noting the badges clipped to their belts, he smiled. “How can I help
you two officers?”

“We have a few questions for you,” Ella said, closing the door as soon as the young woman stepped out.

Grady sat behind his enormous ebony desk, which was accented by a small bronze sculpture of a spear-wielding warrior on a horse. “Make yourselves comfortable,” he said, waving them to a couple of chairs. “At the moment I’m on paid leave, so I’m in no rush.”

“We understand
that you’ve come under investigation by federal and state agencies for your business contacts and operations. But we’re more concerned about offenses you may have committed here.”

Grady steepled his fingers. “If you think that a man in my position has no secrets, then you’re very naïve—which contradicts what I’ve heard about you and your reputation as an investigator for the tribe, Ms. Clah.
I’m well aware that there have been some misunderstandings about the compensation I receive for my work here at the casino, but with a lawsuit pending, my attorney has advised me not to comment on these matters. I will tell you this much: I haven’t broken any laws, and no criminal case can be made against me.”

Ella studied Grady. He was calm, almost cocky. This was a man used to bending the rules
when it suited him, and one who enjoyed an occasional challenge to his authority.

“Mr. Grady, have you heard about the incident at the airstrip?” Ella asked.

“Who hasn’t?” he countered, and shrugged. “One of the tribal attorneys was attacked—the same one, Tolino, who filed the lawsuit against me and my company. But that’s got nothing to do with me or my people. You need to look to your own backyard
for answers.”

Ella’s gaze narrowed. “Do you know something about these crimes that we don’t?”

“You had two very ambitious men on board that plane,
and ambitious men
always
have secrets and enemies,” he answered.

Ella tried to figure out if he knew about the money, but it was impossible to read him. She waited, wondering if he was going to get curious and ask her a question, but he just sat
there, staring at his fingernails.

After a minute or two of silence, he stood up, dismissing them. “I’m not in a rush, but I do have some plans today, Detectives, so if you don’t mind . . .” He went to the door and held it open.

Ella and Justine walked out and remained quiet until they were well out of earshot.

“Any vibes?” Justine asked at last as they stopped by a soft drink machine in the
wide hall well beyond the office area.

“Nothing. He’s one cool customer—like a professional poker player who knows how to avoid the tells.”

“Well, considering the environment,” Justine replied, waving her hand toward a double row of slot machines, half of them in use by mostly Navajo guests.

A short, big-chested Navajo man in a bolo tie, fancy belt buckle, and expensive-looking suit was standing
beside one of the machines, looking in their direction. From this distance she didn’t recognize him, but his posture and casual attentiveness suggested he was undercover security.

“Try to find out if the tribe has anything else on him besides what we already know,” Ella said, avoiding mentioning Martin’s name or even the possibility of a source. With so many security cameras, there was also the
possibility of hidden microphones or trained lip readers, and she suspected the guy with the bolo tie was watching them, perhaps because they’d just met with Grady.

Moments later, as they stood drinking sodas, they saw Grady hurry down the other end of the hall carrying his briefcase and a cardboard box.

Justine gave Ella a quick nod, and followed Grady until he went through the last door at
the end. After waiting a couple of seconds, she opened the door and took a quick look.