Never-ending-snake (31 page)

“Good to see you, Reverend,” Ella said, coming up.

“I hope I haven’t interfered with a police matter, Investigator Clah. I noticed the young lady was upset, so I decided
to follow her out and offer my support,” Ford said softly.

Ella smiled, noting the not-quite-convincing apologetic look on his face. “I’ve got him now, Reverend Tome. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said, stepping back.

Ella identified herself—though Nez apparently knew who she was already. After she cuffed him, she removed the pistol he carried in his shoulder holster. The description
she’d been given by the pair who’d come after Justine and her at the casino fit Rudy to a tee, belt buckle and all.

“You’re making a real big mistake,” Nez growled.

“I hope that’s not a threat,” Ella said smoothly.

“No, it’s a fact.”

“You can tell me more about that once we get to the station,” Ella said, then turned him over to Justine, who read him his rights.

While Justine took Nez back
to their unit, Ella joined Angelina. “He’s going nowhere for a while.”

“I can file charges against him, but with his credentials . . .”

“You don’t have to be afraid of him. We’ll make it very clear that if anything happens to you—even if all you do is trip and fall—we’ll go find him,” Ella said. “Leave it to me.”

Ella glanced at the police unit where Justine had placed Nez. It was easy to see
what had drawn him to the casino job—power.

“Do you want me to go to the station to give you a statement?” Angelina asked.

“Yeah, just follow us in,” Ella said. “Making this official will put even more pressure on Nez to leave you alone.”

As Angelina walked to her car, Ella joined Ford, who’d been standing back. “You’re really something, Reverend.”

“Glad you think so.”

Ella touched the side
of his face in a quick caress, then turned and walked away. That was the limit to any touching he’d permit, and that was a problem. He followed rules she wasn’t prepared to obey.

Later at the station, Ella and Justine went into the small interview room where Rudy Nez had been placed. He’d been cooling his heels for about two hours.

As they stepped inside, he sat rock still, glaring at them.

“Would you like something cool to drink?” Ella asked. “Feels kind of warm in here—stuffy.”

“Spare me the games.”

Ella shrugged. “Explain to me
why you went after Angelina Manuelito.”

“I didn’t go after anyone. The woman looked like she was about to faint, so I reached out to keep her from falling. The preacher must have misunderstood and assaulted me. Then you came over.”

“That doesn’t mesh with the story she told us. And she wasn’t even close to fainting. I was there, remember?”

“I don’t care what she told you. It’s all an act, you
know. She has a thing for cops, and ever since she realized I wasn’t interested she’s been looking for a way to get back at me.”

“You’re no cop,” Ella said calmly.

“I’m the head of security at the casino. That qualifies.”

“Rent-a-cop’s more like it,” Justine added. “A wannabe.”

Anger flashed in Rudy’s eyes, and his hands curled into fists. “You two make peanuts compared to what the casino
pays me, and you know the saying—‘pay peanuts and you get monkeys.’ At the end of the day, I drive off in a custom truck with a state-of-the-art sound system, and my three-story brick home just south of the Piñon Hills golf course belongs to me, lock, stock, and barrel. You
wish
you had my life.”

“A fat wallet still doesn’t make you a police officer, and you act like a pimp. If I had to take
a guess, I’d say you don’t have what it takes for law enforcement,” Ella said.

He bolted to his feet so fast, the chair crashed to the floor.

“Sit down,” Ella said firmly. “You don’t want to get Tasered.”

He picked up the chair and sat back down slowly, giving them a mirthless smile. “I get it. You push my buttons, then nail me for assault on a police officer. But over what—that brainless girl?
Please.”

“She says you threatened her and her job because she spoke to one of our officers. So that brings me to my next question. What are you trying so hard to keep secret over at the casino?” Ella leaned back, and not waiting for him to answer, continued. “Then again, I’m probably wasting my time looking to you for answers. You’re just muscle—if that.”

“Do you know
anything
, or do you just
do what Grady tells you?” Justine asked.

“I take care of security,” he growled.

“How do you define that—hiring two deadbeats to assault a couple of tribal officers who came to interview your
superior
?” Ella said, goading him. “You couldn’t handle us by yourself, could you?”

“My job’s to keep deadbeats
out
of the casino. I don’t
hire
them.”

“See? He just follows orders,” Justine said. “Come
on. We’re wasting our time.”

Nez gave her a look of utter contempt. “The casino’s a good thing for the tribe. You’re messing with things you don’t understand.”

“The same could be said for you—but, then again, understanding isn’t your gig. Following orders seems closer to it,” Ella said. “You’re Grady’s lapdog.”

“You’ve got your bosses, I’ve got mine. Except for our income, we’re the same,”
he snapped.

Ella laughed. “You’re clueless. Face it, Rudy, telling that kid, Angelina, to keep her mouth shut, then trying to intimidate her? Big mistake. It’s the same as pointing a finger at the one you’ve been hired to protect.”

“Leave Grady out of this. He’s a good man and has made millions for the tribe,” he said. “You’re trying to find out who’s behind the shootings; I get it. But that
has nothing to do with the casino, Grady’s company, or Alan Grady himself. Quit wasting your time and mine and get on with your job.”

“So then why are you leaning on people like Angelina? What are you trying to keep quiet?” Ella pressed.

“Mr. Grady’s people shouldn’t be talking to outsiders. At the casino we have our own way of taking care of trouble—and troublemakers,” he said. “If you think
about it, you’ll know it’s true.”

“Let me guess. We’re troublemakers, and that’s why you set those two bozos after us?” Justine said.

“What’s the complaint? If you two couldn’t handle two crazy Anglos, you’re in the wrong job. Where’s
your
training?”

“So you’re confessing?” Ella countered. “I never said they were Anglos.”

“You sure? It seems to me you’re losing your edge. You’re having so
many problems holding your own out in the field, you’re even using a preacher as backup,” he shot back with a sneer. “But I’m getting tired of all this harassment.” He sat
back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m done here. I’ll wait for my attorney before saying anything else.”

Ella stood. “This incident’s probably going to be swept under the rug. But hear me. If anything happens
to that young woman—if she even scrapes her knee—I’m going to be all over you. Life as you know it will cease to be. You get me?”

He looked at Justine. “This is harassment, pure and simple. You gonna let her get away with this?”

Justine yawned. “Excuse me, I wasn’t listening. Did she say something?”

Rudy looked back at Ella and grinned slowly. “Looks like you and I have a lot more in common
than you want to admit.”

“What we have is a connection—people like you belong in cages, and I’m good at putting them there,” Ella said.

As they left the room and stepped into the hall, Big Ed came out of his office and motioned to them. “Abigail Yellowhair just called,” he said, closing the door behind them. “Someone spray-painted the word
anaashii
on her garage door.”

“Sounds like Emerson
Lee’s work,” Ella said thoughtfully.

“Abigail asked for you specifically. She said that since your mother’s also part of the Prickly Weed Project, you need to see what Rose is going to be up against. I don’t take requests when it comes to assigning officers to a case, so it’s up to you, Shorty. I can send another officer.”

Ella’s expression hardened. “I’ll go. There’s a reason behind her friendship
with my mother, and I need to figure out what that is.”

“One more thing. That reporter, Hattery, showed up at Abigail’s.”

“Did she speak to him?”

“Yes. She said it was time someone told the general public that the project leaders are being victimized.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “All right. I’ll handle this, Chief.”

As they turned toward the door, Big Ed spoke again. “There’s one more thing.”

Ella and Justine stopped and glanced back.

“Hattery’s agreed to help the
Diné Times
by passing on information as he gets it. Jaime Beyale, the editor, has been forced to cut staff and agreed to use him as a stringer.”

“Things must be really tough if she’s using Hattery.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Shorty, he gets results. Lots of press awards next to his name if you Google him.”

“Yeah, but he got
fired from one of the Albuquerque TV stations a few years ago for screwing up big time,” Ella replied.

“That’s why he’s working so hard to rebuild his reputation. He wants to break a story certain to make the national news,” Big Ed said.

“Just the kind of reporter I need underfoot,” Ella muttered.

“Tread carefully. Even with that black mark against him, he’s still got connections in the industry,”
Big Ed added.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Ella said.

“I know you don’t like Hattery nosing around our case, but you heard the chief,” Justine said as they headed to the car. “We’ve got to treat him with kid gloves.”

“So what do you propose?”

“Let
me
handle him while you question Mrs. Yellowhair.”

“Partner, that’s a great idea. I’ll get more from Abigail if we go one-to-one,” she said, then
with a mischievous smile, added, “And who knows, Hattery and you might hit it off. He could even give Mr. Romance some competition.”

Justine choked. “Forget it. I like to keep things simple.
One guy at a time is more my speed.” She paused and in a soft voice added, “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

“Huh?”

“Cuz, I’ve known you all my life. No matter what you say about Kevin being out of
the running, he’s never given up on you. With him, what you see is what you get. The problem is that you don’t like to play it safe, and Ford fascinates you. Behind that conservative, pious image is a brilliant man with a hidden past. Unfortunately, it seems you need more from a relationship than Ford can give you.”

“And less. Before we’d go the next step, he’d insist I marry him and join his
church, and that would end it, I’m afraid,” Ella said.

“Maybe he’d change his mind—about the church thing. It’s clear he’s in love with you.”

“No, that wouldn’t work for him—or for me. I keep thinking of my own father and mother. They loved each other, too, but I’d never want to live that way again and have my daughter caught in the middle, like Clifford and I were. Clifford chose the Navajo
Way and fought with Dad constantly. I ran off and got married.”

“Yeah, and when your husband was killed, you joined the FBI,” Justine admitted. “Took years before you came back. So, are you really going to leave again?”

“I still haven’t decided about the D.C. job. Let’s stick with nostalgia, okay?”

A short time later they arrived at Abigail’s home, a modest frame structure west of the river
in an area of small farms. A new-looking SUV was parked on the street in front of the house, and Abigail’s fading yellow sports sedan was on the left side of the concrete driveway in front of the double garage’s door.

As Ella parked across the road from Abigail’s house, she took in the scene. Abigail was scrubbing off the painted,
foot-high letters with rags and a strong solvent, judging from
the scent that wafted over. Norm Hattery, dressed in tan slacks and a tropical-pattern shirt, was beside her, ostensibly helping.

Seeing Ella as they climbed out of the vehicle, Abigail waved. “Do you know each other?” she asked gesturing to Norm as Ella and Justine crossed the street.

“We’ve met Mr. Hattery.” Ella gave Norm a nod, then focused on Abigail. “Do you have any idea who might have
done this?”

Abigail took a few steps away from Hattery, turned her back to him, and lowered her voice. “My money’s on someone from Emerson Lee’s clan. Ever since that last chapter house meeting, they’ve been busy stirring people up. They present themselves as martyrs—you know, poor Navajos out to protect their way of life from tribal politicians—but the truth’s a lot simpler than that. They don’t
want to relinquish that land to the tribe.”

Still pretending to be scrubbing the paint, Norm edged closer to them.

Noting it, Ella glanced at her partner, then back at Abigail. “Why don’t you and I go inside and talk in private for a bit?”

“I’ll help Norm with the scrubbing,” Justine said, picking up a pair of rubber gloves resting on the rim of a plastic bucket.

Abigail led Ella into the
kitchen and offered her a seat at the table. “Things are going to get worse before they get better. That’s why I’m so worried about your mother. Rose is a beautiful, gentle woman who doesn’t deserve to become a target for these idiots.”