Never-ending-snake (9 page)

“Even with Kevin’s relatively high-level position for the tribe, I’ve heard him complain more than once about the cost of living in D.C.,” Ella said with a nod. “Money can be an issue because it takes time for the tribe to pick up the tab.”

“Maybe that money has nothing to do with the war hero,” Clifford said. “Everyone knows about your child’s father and his
legal attack on the casino’s management. Maybe the cash has something to do with them.”

“That’s a good point. The casino would easily have access to large amounts like that,” Ford agreed. “I’ve always said that gambling, even when the tribe makes a handsome profit, may not be worth the other problems it creates.”

“Nothing to excess. That’s how a Navajo walks in beauty,” Clifford said in a rare
moment of agreement between them.

“The promise of instant riches is a powerful lure for people living on the edge,” Ford answered.

When they reached the hogan Ella saw Justine walking near the back of the house with Marie, who was crying. Wondering if more bad news had arrived, Ella increased her pace. Clifford’s wife, Loretta, who was now near the entrance to the hogan, stepped over and intercepted
her. “Leave them
alone for a bit. Your cousin is trying to calm her down after hearing some bad news.”

“What happened?”

“There was a phone call while you were gone with the men. Her husband’s heart stopped not long ago, and although they were able to revive and stabilize him, she’s terrified. She’d made herself believe that once her husband was finally out of surgery the danger would be behind
them. Now, she’s seeing that it’s not that simple.”

Several minutes later, Justine led Marie back to where Loretta and Ford were waiting. Saying good-bye to them, she jogged over to meet Ella. “Sorry to keep you. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

Ella didn’t break the silence between them until they reached the highway several minutes later. “Once we reach Shiprock, head for the hospital.”

“Got it,” Justine said, turning north.

“So how did it go?” Ella asked.

“Marie’s barely hanging on. When Adam was discharged from the army she was relieved, thinking they would finally have a more normal life. But things didn’t turn out the way she’d hoped when Adam found work as a lobbyist within three months of coming home. For one thing, their financial situation is tighter than ever. Apparently,
most lobbyists work for a multitude of interests, but the tribe wants Adam to work strictly for them, and that limits the Lonewolf income. Marie asked him to threaten to quit and pressure the tribe to either increase his salary or let him take on other clients, but Adam refused. His goal is to get into tribal politics. He wants to use his popularity to network and develop contacts in Washington,
and make a name for himself as someone who gets things done,” Justine said. “But, Ella, to make a long story short, no way that cash belonged to Adam.”

As her phone rang, Ella answered it, identifying herself.

“It’s Blalock,” the voice answered. “I’m at the hospital
right now and thought you’d want to know that Kevin’s awake and alert enough to talk.”

“I’m on my way as we speak,” Ella answered.
“Our ETA is ten minutes, give or take. But while I’ve got you on the phone, has the Bureau in D.C. turned up anything new?”

“Nothing on the mugging or the threats with an obvious connection to what went down here. I also spoke to ATF as well as local law enforcement to see if any pawn shops and gun dealers in the Four Corners have been under investigation, or even under watch. One name came up—Dan
Butler—someone I know has sold more than his share of assault rifles this past year.”

“Friend of yours?” Ella asked.

“Not a friend, no, but I know him. Word has it that he’s the go-to arms merchant for area militia and doomsday groups. Dan’s acquired a rep for being able to get whatever weapon a client wants—just so long as they’re legal. He’s got a clear record and wants to keep it that way.
Dan also has the skills to work on virtually any firearm ever made. That’s what has made him a favorite of local gun enthusiasts, and not just the nut jobs.”

“If the gunmen at the airstrip were local, then he may have done business with them,” Ella said, concurring. “We need to talk to Butler. Helping us bring down those who attacked a local hero will earn him a lot of goodwill. That should give
us a bit of leverage.”

“Agreed. I’ll see you when you get here. After we talk to Tolino, we may want to head over to Dan’s shop in Farmington.”

As Ella closed up the cell phone, she updated Justine. “With luck, Kevin will finally be able to shed some light on what happened.”

After they arrived at the hospital, Ella followed the nurse’s directions and went to a private room at the end of a long
hallway. A plainclothes officer Ella recognized as Tyler
Sells was sitting to one side of Kevin’s door. Ella greeted him with a nod and went inside. Justine remained at the doorway, talking to the young officer. Glad for her partner’s insight into her methods, Ella went up to Kevin’s bed, ready for a one-to-one with him.

“So much for coming home to some peace and quiet, huh?” he said with a wry
grin.

Ella pulled up a chair. “I hope you feel up to answering some tough questions.”

“I can try, but I don’t know how much I can tell you. That whole thing at the airstrip came out of nowhere.” He paused. “I understand Adam’s in real bad shape.”

“He took some nasty hits, Kev.”

“Yeah, defending
me
. He’s the one who pushed me down, and pulled me behind cover. Saved my life. I’ll tell you one
thing, I’m going to make sure that his family lacks for absolutely nothing while he’s laid up. And if he needs any rehab later . . .”

“Are you two friends?”

Kevin shook his head. “Adam’s difficult to get to know beyond a certain point—very private. But I understood him, man to man. He had a lot of drive, Ella, and big plans for his future.”

“Funny you should say that,” she answered. “Do you
know he was carrying seventy-five thousand dollars in cash in that briefcase of his?”

Kevin stared at her, then blinked. “I don’t think my brain’s working right. Repeat what you just said.”

Ella did and gave him the highlights.

“Monopoly money, right? I got shot three times, and here you are messing with my mind?”

“No, this was the real deal. The play money had been replaced with Uncle Sam’s
finest, all Ben Franklins. The bills were in bundled stacks thick enough to stop a bullet, as a matter of fact.”

“Adam’s barely scraping by right now. The cash can’t be his. Do you know where it came from?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Ella answered.

“I always carry some cash on business trips, and Adam does, too, but we’re talking a few hundred. I can’t explain a sum like that. The whole
revelation sounds like something out of a movie.”

“I’m open to any ideas you might have.”

Kevin paused for a minute or two, taking a sip out of a glass using a straw, careful not to tangle the IV attached to his other arm. “Here’s a thought. Maybe Adam decided to do some freelance work—buying for a client back in D.C. Wholesalers who deal with tribal artisans often carry large sums onto the
Rez. You need a big chunk to buy several Two Grey Hills rugs, or jewelry by the carload from Navajo silversmiths. Craftsmen doing wholesale business deep on the Rez don’t accept checks or credit cards.”

“That’s an interesting possibility,” Ella said. “Can you think of anyone who might have hired him to work in that capacity?”

“No, but Adam wasn’t exactly chatty. I don’t have the foggiest notion
what he does on his own time.”

“Is Adam an honest man, at least as far as you know?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s why I went to bat on his behalf with Tribal Industries. In his job description they stipulated that he could only lobby for the tribe. That forced Adam to turn down offers from the city of Farmington and the state tourism board. I did my best to get that changed so he could add to his client
list, but no dice,” Kevin said. “Thing is, Adam could have easily handled several accounts. He can pour on the charm and multitask like a seasoned politician.”

“I’ve been considering the possibility that Adam was acting as a courier. Informants are usually paid for information and you’re building a case against one of the tribe’s
most important contractors—the casino management firm.” Ella paused,
then in a hard voice, added, “Are you
sure
you don’t know where that money came from, Kevin?”

“I don’t,” he answered firmly. “He wasn’t carrying the money for me—or anyone else I know about. Besides, the tribe would never okay a sum like that to pay off informants, Ella. We just don’t have that kind of money lying around. And why would it be coming
from
D.C.?”

“I don’t know. I’m just exploring
possibilities.”

“And on a personal note, I don’t have that kind of cash either. I could probably raise it by tapping into retirement accounts and savings, but not quickly.”

“I understand your case relies on well-placed sources. I need their names.”

“How did you—” He shook his head. “Never mind. But, Ella, you know better than to ask me something like that. They’ve trusted me to keep their identities
secret until we go to court and, without them, I don’t have a strong enough case to nail these rip-off artists to the wall.”

“I’ll protect their identities, Kevin, you have my word. But I’m going to have to push you on this. You and Adam appear to have been the intended targets, so I can’t afford to overlook the casino’s possible connection. By holding out on me, all you’re doing is helping the
gunmen get away with what they did to you and Adam.”

He exhaled loudly, then nodded. “The names are saved on my laptop in an encrypted text file, and the computer’s stashed away in my carry-on luggage.”

“Then it’s in the department’s evidence room,” she said. “Thanks, Kevin.”

“In those files you’ll also find scanned copies of receipts for phony purchases and inflated billing invoices from CEM,
Casino Enterprises Management.” He paused and she could tell he was feeling weary. “And, Ella, one more thing. Do everything in your power not to scare or expose them.
Without their testimony, my case may not be strong enough to prove criminal intent, only greed.”

“I’ll be extremely careful, don’t worry,” Ella said. “Now tell me, how do I access your files?”

He asked for a piece of paper, then
gave her his password and the names of the folders they were in.

Ella took the information and stood. “I better get going, but I’ll be text messaging our daughter next. She’s very worried about you.”

“She and I have grown very close,” he said, his voice softening.

Ella heard the love in his voice and smiled. “She adores you, Kev.”

“Take the job in D.C., Ella. You and I have had to work hard
for everything we’ve ever gotten. Make Dawn’s life a little easier by giving her the kind of opportunities we never had.”

“This isn’t about what’s easy and what isn’t. It’s about what’s right—for her, and for me. But I don’t want to think about all that now. I’ve got my hands full.”

“I know,” he said. “And just between the two of us, I’ve been picking up some vibes concerning my own job in Washington.
Maybe it’s political pressure, or the economy, but I’ve been hearing that tribal work in D.C. is going to be taking some budgetary hits. I may end up without a job, or at least be kept closer to home. That would be a plus, if you and Dawn stay on the Rez. But don’t let that affect your decision. My issue is still very much up in the air.”

“I appreciate your honesty. By political pressure, you
mean the casino lobby?”

“Exactly. I get them, they get back at me. But, hey, I’m putting my money on me—us really.”

“Smart bet,” Ella replied, then took a step back.

“One more thing. Before you go, Ella, I’d like you to give me a straight answer. How’s Adam doing?”

“He’s still in critical.” She was about to make a further comment when a nurse came into the room.

“Investigator Clah, it’s time
for patient meds, and Mr. Tolino will need to rest after that. You’ll have to leave now.”

“I’m going.” Ella walked to the door and as she looked back, saw Kevin’s eyes close. She’d tired him out. Angry with herself, she went to meet Justine.

“I’d like to check on Adam’s status,” Ella said.

“I figured that, so I located his doctor. He’s on this floor right now.” She pointed ahead. “That’s him,
Doctor Ward, the curly-haired one in the Hawaiian shirt with three young interns in tow.”

Ella hurried toward the young-looking doctor, and, after identifying herself, took him aside. “I’m investigating the airport shooting incident, and need to speak to the gunshot victim, Adam Lonewolf, as soon as I can. Can you give me an idea of when you think that might be possible?” she asked, hoping that
he’d be able to narrow things down for her.

“I couldn’t say. Traumatic gunshot wounds like this are usually fatal. It helped getting him into surgery so quickly, and he’s doing better than expected, but whether he’ll ever regain consciousness—it’s just too early to tell.”

“He’s a key witness. The second he wakes up and can communicate, I need to be contacted,” she said, giving him her card with
her cell number on the back.

He glanced at it then back at her. “Your request has already been noted on his file, and the staff has been briefed.”

“Where’s Mr. Lonewolf right now?” she asked.

“Intensive care—around the corner and second door to the left. Just follow the green line on the wall.”

Ella continued down the hall, but when she reached the ICU she didn’t see anyone guarding the door.
Stepping inside the room immediately, she looked around. Three patients were in separate, glass-partitioned sections. One was Adam,
judging from the extensive head bandages. Everything seemed in order here, so she went back out into the hall.

Her temper rose quickly as she looked in both directions for the missing guard. He should have been here at his post. When she finally found him, she’d
ream him out, then have him pulled from the assignment.