White Thunder Page 14

  “Yes, it is. I’ll be going there next, Joseph. Anything on Rainwater yet?”

  “No, but we’ve got his house staked out.”

  “Who’s watching it now?”

  “Philip Cloud. Between him and his brother, Michael, we’ve got it covered round the clock.”

  “Good job.”

  Ella placed the phone back in her jacket pocket. “Drop me off at the station. Then I need you to go back out to the place where we found Agent Thomas’s car and take another look around. After that, go search Blalock’s office, and look through every single file if necessary. It’ll be hours before he’s here and I don’t want to wait. Blalock says that there’s a case file for the social security investigation in there someplace. Search behind the file cabinet, desks, and any place where it might have fallen during a previous search. Here’s a key I ‘borrowed’ from his desk.”

  “Sneaky, aren’t you?” Justine said, smiling. “If there’s anything there, I’ll find it, Ella.”

  After Justine dropped Ella off near her vehicle, Ella took a moment to decompress. Her stomach hurt round the clock these days. It was tension. Some people got headaches—she got stomachaches. Pushing the pain back into a dark corner of her mind, Ella drove to her brother’s hogan south of Shiprock, parked, then unloaded Clifford’s spare tire and rolled it over to his truck while she waited to be invited in. Seeing her lifting the tire into the bed of the pickup, Clifford’s wife, Loretta, called out to her from the porch of their home. “Your brother’s not here.”

  “Where is he?” Ella asked. “I need to talk to him.”

  “Picking herbs again. This time he’s in the field on the far side of the irrigation ditch.”

  “Thanks.” There was no time to walk. Instead, Ella took the unit and drove straight to the area, which she knew well from previous visits. First, she’d find out if her brother knew anything about what had happened to Roy Blackhat and then figure out what part, if any, the mortuary had played in Thomas’s disappearance. Agent Thomas’s future hung by a delicate thread and instinct and logic told her that she was somehow missing a big piece of the puzzle. She still hadn’t made the connection that would link motive and crime.

  Ella parked beside the empty irrigation ditch, took a look around, then got out of her unit. She scrambled down to the dry, sandy bottom of the four-foot-deep ditch, knowing that this was the shortest route to where she was going. Driving alongside the ditch in her vehicle to a crossing point would cost her half an hour. Here a five-minute walk would pay off.

  Ella climbed out the other side, then jogged down the track that lined a field, which had been allowed to go fallow. It now contained native plants instead of melons, corn, or alfalfa. Once she’d gone about fifty yards, she saw her brother squatting down beside a plant.

  Seeing her, Clifford smiled and stood up. “What brings you all the way over here?”

  “I put your spare tire in the bed of the truck, but that wasn’t the only reason I came. I have a question for you,” she said. “Did you do a Sing for an elderly patient who’d been diagnosed with a brain tumor?” she asked, doing her best to avoid mentioning him by name. “He has a house on the mesa at the east end of Shiprock. I understand he had a Sing done, and I’m hoping that he came to you.”

  “Thank you for not mentioning his name,” Clifford replied. “I don’t know why you’re interested in him, but my guess is that he’s dead by now.”

  “That’s what I’ve been led to believe. He drove one of those old VW vans, and it was found abandoned not too far from here last March,” she said. “Can you tell me what happened after you saw him?”

  “He came to me late January asking for prayers to protect him on his final journey. He’d made up his mind not to live out his last few months in a hospital surrounded by the chindi of those who had died there. He was in his eighties, had no family left, so he planned to abandon his car and then start walking into the desert. His grandfather had died that way and, as he said, it was an honorable death.”

  Ella said nothing for several long moments, then gave him a hard look. “You knew he was going to commit suicide, so why did you let him go?”

  Clifford shook his head, disapproval shining clearly in his eyes as he gazed back at her. “You’re a part of our tribe, yet sometimes I’d swear that you understand nothing. He was going to die. The doctors knew it, he knew it, and so did I. All he was asking was to go his own way. He wanted to die in the desert he loved, not tucked away out of sight in a little hospital room where he couldn’t even see the sacred mountains,” Clifford said, searching her eyes to see if she understood now. Apparently not satisfied with what he saw there, he added, “The last words he spoke to me say it best. He told me he wasn’t taking his life—that he was going out to enjoy what he had left of it. Then he’d sit down and rest.”

  Clifford crouched down, inspecting a plant for a moment, then glanced back up at her and regarded her thoughtfully. “He died honorably—in the tradition of his ancestors. That’s worthy of your respect.”

  “There are simpler and more comfortable ways to go.”

  “Maybe in your opinion.”

  Ella heard the tone in his voice and knew that an argument would get them nowhere. Clifford’s mind was made up. “So, for the record, you believe he’s dead.”

  “Absolutely. You could see his end was near just by looking at him. If you need to verify it, check your records and see if a body was found in the desert around here sometime after January.”

  “I will.” She started back toward the ditch and Clifford joined her.

  “You don’t look so good and your feet are dragging. Is it the case you’re working on?”

  “Yeah. I’m exhausted. There’s an FBI agent out here on the Rez somewhere, lost and maybe dying, but I can’t get a fix on him at all. His time may be running out, and I’m still spinning my wheels and getting no place.”

  Clifford studied her expression, then lapsed into a lengthy silence. At long last he spoke. “The problem is that you’re torn between going by the book so you can make a case against the guilty and doing whatever’s necessary to find this agent while there’s still hope. But by trying to cover all the bases at once, it’s impossible for you to make progress.”

  Ella considered it. “There’s some truth in what you’ve said but you’re not entirely right. I want whoever did this. And if they get away with it because of something I did or left undone, it’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. But I’m also doing everything I can to find Agent Thomas quickly. He’s at the heart of this case. Both aspects balance each other.”

  “You’ve defined yourself as a cop for a long time. You like being ruled by Anglo laws, because they give you structure and let you find harmony. But the structure you need is part of who you are. Listen to your inner voice and stop letting only what you can see and prove direct you.”

  “My instincts are pretty reliable … but not in this case. I don’t know the missing man, but I can taste his fear,” she said softly. “I’ve been to that place where everything looks hopeless. I know what he’s thinking. I can feel the waves of panic that hit him.”

  “You’re taking too much on yourself. His rescue doesn’t depend solely on you. There are others at play in this.”

  “I’m the head of the Special Investigations team. If we fail, it’ll probably be because I made the wrong decisions.” She took a deep breath. “But I won’t fail.”

  When they reached the irrigation ditch, Ella saw two boys farther down, kicking a soccer ball back and forth. She was about to warn them about playing in the ditch when she heard a strange bubbling noise. The kids froze and looked upstream, surprised.

  A heartbeat later one of the boys pointed toward a curve in the ditch farther uphill. “Water!”

  Before they could get halfway up the sides, the dirty, churning rush of water slammed against them and they lost their grip on the banks.

  “Get a large branch we can use to pull them out,” Ella yelled to
Clifford as she raced down the side of the ditch, trying to keep pace with the boys, who were being swept downstream by the raging stream.

  Fear sliced through her. She hated water. And she hated rushing water even more. But one way or another, she and Clifford would have to get the boys out of there before they drowned.

  TWELVE

  Ella raced along the side of the ditch, catching up to the taller boy, who’d managed to take hold of some roots extending out from the side of the embankment and was clinging to them desperately. Ella stopped, reached down, and grabbed his wrist.

  Just then Clifford came up. “Pull him out,” Ella told him quickly. “I’ve got to go after the other one.”

  “Go. I’ve got things here,” Clifford said, reaching out for the kid.

  As Clifford took over Ella shot after the second boy. He was being swept down the ditch at an alarming speed, rolling along, unable to right himself. Carrying the branch her brother had brought, Ella sprinted down the bank. She had to catch up to him before he reached one of the irrigation gates. Once there, he could easily get sucked down a culvert and end up trapped in a pool at the bottom.

  The ditch continued in a wide curve, making almost a ninety-degree change in direction. Hearing a yell somewhere ahead, she managed to get a fix on his position. Ella cut across the field, running so fast that she almost fell into the ditch herself before she could stop. Dropping to her knees she held out the branch as the boy drew closer.

  “Grab on!” she yelled, but the current was still spinning the boy and he couldn’t bring his arm around in time.

  “Help!” he cried.

  Ella saw the desperation in his eyes as the current swept him past her. Like too many kids on the Rez, he didn’t know how to swim. In a panic, he was fighting the water instead of bobbing up and down and taking advantage of the fact that bodies floated naturally. At this rate he’d tire soon, so she had to do something fast.

  Ella sprinted to catch up again and saw the closed diversion gate ahead. It was designed to direct water into the field to her right. Running as fast as she could, she managed to overtake and pass the boy, arriving at the gate a few seconds ahead of him.

  Lying down, she looped her legs around the sturdy metal post where the water wheel was attached, then looked upstream. The boy was almost there. Hanging on to solid ground only by her legs, she pushed off the bank with her arms, held her breath and lunged out into the water. The cold current was a shock.

  As she reached out, the boy slammed into her right arm at the inside of her elbow. Grabbing on to him, she held on tightly. Their combined mass in the water swept her around, and her head kept going under as she clung to the boy, bringing her left arm around to encircle him completely.

  Ella struggled to keep her ankles locked around the only anchor, the threaded steel post that operated the irrigation gate. Her lungs about to burst, she noticed that the boy wasn’t struggling now, even though his head was below the surface as well.

  Just as she was about to run out of air, she felt a firm grip on her ankle, then on her other leg. Concentrating on holding on to the boy, Ella felt herself being pulled out onto the bank. When her head finally came out of the water, she gasped for air.

  “I’ve got you,” Clifford said, dragging her onto dry ground.

  Ella raised her head and looked at the boy, who had her arm in a death grip. His eyes were wild and his breathing ragged.

  “You’re safe now. Just rest for a moment and catch your breath.”

  Terror, cold and dark, lit up his eyes and shivers racked his body. In her gut Ella understood and knew that he was as incapable of unclenching his fingers from around her arm as he was of flapping his arms and flying to the moon.

  Clifford crouched beside her. “The other kid’s safe. Are you both okay?”

  “I am. Our boy here just needs a few moments to get over the shock.” She was incredibly cold, and the slight breeze felt like ice cubes on her skin.

  Ella reached over with her free hand and placed it on the boy’s shoulder. “Just relax.”

  The boy nodded.

  Ella watched his eyes, and saw him break through his fear to find bits and pieces of sanity. He was probably ten, and this had undoubtedly been the worst experience of his life. “You’re all right. It’s over now.”

  She could see exhaustion taking over as his fear retreated and his breathing evened. Finally, he let go of her arm and sat up. “Thanks for pulling me out,” he said, then seeing her pistol and the handcuffs on her belt added, “Officer.”

  Ella glanced at Clifford and saw him nod in approval. The boy’s companion, an older brother judging from their resemblance, was there now too, standing and watching, his arms wrapped around himself for warmth.

  “You going to arrest us?” the boy managed, looking at her, then Clifford.

  Ella shook her head. “Just stay out of the ditches this time of year.”

  The boys looked at each other. “Okay,” the younger brother said quickly and his brother nodded and added, “Yeah, okay.”

  “Then get home and out of those wet clothes,” Clifford motioned toward a house in the distance. “Hurry.”

  The older boy reached down, grabbed his brother’s arm, and pulled him up to his feet. “Let’s go before they change their minds!”

  The two kids ran off.

  “Remind me to tell my son about this,” Clifford said, shaking his head slowly.

  “I will,” Ella nodded, climbing to her feet and reaching down to confirm that she still had her weapon and phone. The pistol would need to be dried out and cleaned but she had no idea whether her cell phone would still work.

  “I know who they are. I’ll mention this incident to their father, too”, Clifford replied. “But something’s bothering me. The ditches are dry this time of year unless someone is irrigating and everyone does that real early in the morning because of evaporation loss. This shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I know. Let’s go to the main gate and find out what’s going on.” Ella looked around, verifying that she hadn’t dropped anything, then started walking back upstream with Clifford.

  “The closest bridge is this way,” he said cocking his head. “But first I’ve got to pick up the plants.”

  “If there’s no indication that the gate came open on its own, then I’m going to assume that this was done to slow me down. After everything that has happened recently I’m getting the distinct impression that some people just don’t want Agent Thomas found, at least not anytime soon. Maybe they’re hoping he’ll die on his own and save them the trouble of getting to him themselves,” she said. “These people are really pissing me off.”

  “That’s pride and frustration talking. You’re going to have to put all that aside if you’re going to find the Anglo man in time. Concentrate on what you know. On some level all the pieces have to make sense and come together. Find the pattern and then you’ll be able to restore harmony.” He paused for several moments. “There’s something else I can do for you. I’ll call on the powers of Thunder to help. Do you remember the stories?”

  She nodded. “Thunders have the ability to find things, but not all were good, right?”

  “I know you’re a modernist, but I’m glad that you’ve held on to some of what you were taught,” he said, pleased. “And you’re right. Winter Thunder is not used in sandpaintings because he’s unreliable and can cause problems, and White Thunder isn’t just a troublemaker—he’s evil.”

  When they reached the irrigation ditch’s main gate directing flow from the river, Ella crouched down and studied the wheel and control mechanism. It was intact and there was no sign of tampering. “No fields are being irrigated. That means someone deliberately opened this. There’s no other explanation.”

  As she examined fresh vehicle tracks nearby, she noted that the soil had a high clay content here. The only thing she could tell from the tracks themselves was that they’d come from an SUV or a large truck, and one of its tires had a small gash
across the tread.

  “Let’s get going. We have a long hike, and I’m freezing,” Ella said.

  They jogged this time, cutting another five minutes off the journey and slowing down only long enough for Clifford to pick up the plants he’d set down when they’d found the boys trapped by the water. But by the time they reached Ella’s SUV, arrows of pain were shooting into her legs and her muscles felt tied into knots. “Remind me not to jog that fast when I’m freezing to the bone.”

  Her brother looked at her and grinned. “Don’t blame it on the cold. You just haven’t been jogging enough lately and you’re a little out of shape and cramping up. That’s why you’re tired.”

  She looked over at him and realized he wasn’t even winded. “You’re so irritating.”

  “You’re still competing with me. After all these years you should have realized how useless that is.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Since junior high you’ve always tried to do everything better than me. But it never worked. I’m just bigger and stronger.”

  “You’re hallucinating. Bigger ego and stronger under the arms, maybe.”

  Clifford laughed.

  Ella drove him back to his hogan without another word. No one could annoy her more than Clifford. They were blood and she loved him, but she could have cheerfully strangled him at times.

  “You know I’m right. So why bother to get angry?” he said as he got out of the car.

  “I’m not angry,” she called out the window to him. “And you’re not right. I was better running long distances in track than you ever were, and our girls’ basketball team went to state, not the boys’. Your memory’s faulty. Maybe you’ve been inhaling too much piñon smoke lately.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll concede the argument.”

  She wanted to run him over. Instead, she put the vehicle in gear and drove off, making sure she stirred up a large cloud of dust during her departure.

  When she reached the main road leading toward the highway, Ella pulled over and checked her cell phone. It had been in her jacket pocket, and with the flip top cover closed had remained dry except on the outside. She decided to risk it and punched in Teeny’s number. Surprisingly, it worked. “Have you gotten any leads on Rainwater at all?”