Tracking Bear Page 13

  “Smart cookie.”

  He nodded. “He didn’t come out until he heard a car racing out of the parking lot. Figuring he was safe then, he went to try and take a look at the getaway vehicle. That’s when he saw that the councilman had been shot. He ran back inside immediately, called the emergency number and asked for the EMTs.”

  “I hope you canceled the EMTs,” Ella said.

  “Yeah, I did. Once I came on the scene, I could see they weren’t needed.”

  Ella looked back at the clerk and glanced around the interior of the Quick Stop. “This place will probably go out of business now. Nobody will come near a place that has been tainted by death. People won’t tempt the chindi, you know?”

  “The owner will probably just move the Quick Stop to another location, maybe down the road. Remember the old fairgrounds? When someone died there during a ceremony they had to relocate the entire facility,” Philip recalled. “Do you want me to go out there and help your team?”

  “Yeah. Secure the scene and work with Justine,” she told Philip. “I’ll go interview the clerk and see if he can add anything new.”

  Duncan held a cup of coffee unsteadily in his hands as Ella drew near. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or the lights, but his face looked decidedly gray.

  “I’m a police detective,” Ella said, holding out her ID. At a time like this, even a modernist might find offense in the use of proper names, and she needed Duncan’s complete confidence.

  “I know who you are. I’ve met many of your clan.”

  She nodded slowly. A long silence stretched out, and Ella leaned back against the wall and waited.

  He took a sip of coffee. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened here tonight,” he said, his words tumbling out. “When I heard that shot, I was sure he’d come back in and shoot me, too. But when I heard a car racing out I decided to take a look. That’s when I saw the councilman’s car. It’s easy to recognize—not too many expensive cars like that around here. I ran over, but when I saw him I almost threw up. I came back inside and called for more help.”

  “You said you heard the robber’s car racing away and went outside. Did you get a look at it?”

  “I saw the back end, but only for a few seconds. It was a sedan of some kind—a light color, maybe tan because it was darker than the councilman’s. It wasn’t fancy, whatever it was.”

  “Did you notice the license plate, any distinguishing marks, like a dent, for example, or a flag fixed to the antennae?”

  He considered it silently for several moments. “The license plate was missing, but it had a bumper sticker, if that helps. It was on the right hand side…I think.”

  “What kind of sticker?”

  “It was one of the NEED ones that say ‘We NEED Clean Air’ or something like that. You’ve seen them. They’re everywhere.”

  Ella nodded. “Now, I want you to remember the robber. What did he look like?”

  “He had that mask on, the one I mentioned to the other officer. I never saw his face.”

  “What about his eyes? Get a color?”

  “He had eyes,” Duncan said seriously, “but I was really trying not to look directly at him. I was more worried about the gun. It was some kind of automatic, but not chrome or nickel or whatever that silver color is. I don’t know pistols very well, but it was not a revolver.”

  “Was he tall or short?”

  “Tall, maybe your height, five-ten or- eleven. And not as slender as you. He was wearing dark slacks and a red plaid flannel shirt. He also had on a pair of animal-skin Western boots, a medium brown color. I know cause I looked down a lot. I didn’t want to stare at the gun and end up giving him any ideas.”

  “I understand. You did fine. But think. You must have seen his eyes. What color were they?” Ella pressed.

  Douglas shook his head. “Dark, probably, but I honestly don’t know. The only thing I remember was that mask. I would recognize it, for sure.”

  “The robber was working alone?”

  “Only one man came in…but there was another person in the car—the driver,” he said slowly. “I didn’t even think of it until now. I barely saw him, but there were two shapes in the front seat.”

  “Okay. Thanks. You’ve been really helpful.” Ella stepped outside and saw Carolyn, the ME, working under the glare of the crime-scene spotlights just set up.

  As Ella went to join her, Carolyn looked up and turned off her tape recorder. The body was on the ground now on a stretcher, inside a body bag.

  “He was shot at close range into the base of the skull. I didn’t notice the exit wound until I looked inside his mouth. The bullet nicked a tooth on the way out, then entered the dashboard. From the angle, the killer must have been just a few feet away. The victim had his head turned away, maybe reaching for the car keys at the time the shot was fired.”

  “No struggle?”

  “I don’t think so. The victim was cooperating, apparently, and may not have even known it was coming.”

  Ella stared at the body for a second. She didn’t know what caliber weapon had been used for this basically execution-style murder, but the MO was similar to the one used by Jason’s killer. In her opinion, there was more to this than met the eye.

  “Do you need help getting the body into the van?” Ella asked.

  “Yeah. Too bad Neskahi isn’t here.”

  Ella smiled. “You have an evil heart, Carolyn.”

  Carolyn smiled back. “You betcha. And a long memory.”

  “I’ll give you a hand.”

  Although it was a job Ella detested, she couldn’t see giving it to Justine. At the moment her partner was focusing on a footprint some distance away, where the ground was soft enough to leave a good impression. Officer Tache was photographing it while Justine prepared a plaster cast. From the looks of things, they already had more leads to follow on this case than they had on Jason’s.

  Once the body was put into the rear of the coroner’s vehicle and secured, Carolyn climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ll call you or fax you a report once I’ve got something.”

  After Carolyn left, Ella walked over to Justine. “What have you got?”

  “The doc pointed out the trajectory of the bullet, and we spotted a small hole in the wood paneling around the radio. I took a closer look and found the slug resting on a bracket under the dash. It came from a .380. The slug is intact, though the nose is smashed up, but we have a little rifling to work with, like before. It might be from the same weapon that killed our officer. Didn’t find a shell casing, though.”

  “The shooter must have picked it up. Did you check out the wallet on the ground?”

  “It’s the councilman’s, all right. There was no cash inside, just credit cards and photos. I’ll be checking it for prints later. There was blood splattered on the outside of the wallet, some of it smeared, so the victim must have brought out the wallet before being shot. He probably kept it in his inside jacket pocket rather than his hip, judging from the size of the thing,” Justine said.

  “Good work.”

  “There’s also a boot print leading away from the car that showed up real good over there. It’s distinctive because there’s only one brand that I know of that has a small embossed circle on each heel. I also found a tiny piece of fabric caught in a tumble-weed a few feet away from the body. It’s been bagged and tagged.”

  “Did you find any tread marks that might belong to the perp’s car?”

  “I know that a vehicle pulled up right behind the councilman’s car. I’ll be checking into the tread pattern of the tires.”

  Ella checked her watch, then stepping away so Justine could finish working, dialed the chief, Big Ed, at home. Ella filled him in quickly. “Thought you’d like to be apprised of the situation.”

  “You bet. I want you to notify the councilman’s family personally. That’s your next step. I don’t need more political fallout than I’m already going to get.”

  Ella placed her cell pho
ne back on her belt, then joined Justine again. “I’m going to go inform the family, and maybe find out where the councilman stood on the NEED question.”

  “Do you think there’s a connection between this murder and Jason Franklin’s?”

  “Other than possibly the same weapon being used? Yes—NEED.”

  Ella headed to her car and, as she walked, called Kevin. She told him what had happened, and asked if, as a fellow tribal councilman, he’d known the victim.

  “Yeah. He and his wife live in the Beclabito area. They’ve only been married a year. She’s going to take this very hard.”

  “Give me a little background on her and Billy.”

  “Emily, Billy’s wife, had been widowed for several years when they met. Billy hired her a few years ago as his assistant. She’s great with people and has been a real asset to Billy.” There was a pause. “I’m also their attorney. Do you mind if I meet you at their house?”

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll drive slow and meet you there.”

  Ella followed the directions Kevin had given her to the Redhouse home, west of Shiprock and close to the Arizona state line. It was a large stucco-and-frame house on a fenced-in area of rolling hills and piñon-juniper forest.

  She parked outside on a graveled driveway leading to a twocar garage, and, as she opened the SUV’s door, Kevin pulled up. She waited for him, wrapping her coat tightly around herself, trying to keep warm despite the cold wind blasting against her. It was close to the mountains here, and felt very much like winter at the moment.

  “Thanks for letting me come with you,” Kevin said. “I think she’ll need a friend—anyone would, faced with news like this.”

  Ella knocked on the door, and within seconds a small, attractive Navajo woman in her forties answered. She was wearing a long, loose skirt made out of corduroy and a simple, off-white wool pullover sweater. Her only jewelry was a strand of silver beads.

  Emily Redhouse’s features were small and delicate, fitting her frame, and her large eyes a rich, dark brown with a charismatic sparkle that probably had an effect on men.

  “Can we sit down?” Ella asked, identifying herself. Kevin just nodded reassuringly at her, having met Mrs. Redhouse before, obviously.

  Emily looked at Ella, then at Kevin. Slowly, her smile faded and the light went out of her eyes. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” She led them to the couch. “Is it my husband?”

  As Ella delivered the news, the color drained out of Mrs. Redhouse’s face, and she seemed to age ten years in an instant. She stared at them for a moment, then sagged back against the couch. “Murdered? But how? And why?”

  “We don’t know yet. It appears to have started as a robbery. But there could be another reason as well. We’ve just begun investigating.”

  Emily shook her head. “I warned my husband not to carry so much money around. Someone must have seen him with his wallet out. Is that what happened?”

  “How much money are you talking about?” Ella asked.

  “Several hundred, at times. When I saw him pay for something the other day, I was surprised at all the cash. He gave me three hundred dollars right then, and told me that he’d left the checkbook in the car a few times and had decided that carrying cash was safer. I guess it wasn’t,” she whispered.

  “Does anyone else besides you know about your husband’s new habit?” Ella wondered.

  Kevin looked at her curiously, but didn’t speak.

  Emily shook her head. “He always keeps his wallet low, below the counter, when taking money out, like when he’s in stores. But maybe somebody else noticed. I don’t understand any of this,” she said, as a tear spilled down her cheek.

  All Ella was able to learn from Emily after that was that Billy stopped at the Quick Stop on the way home every evening to pick up a pack of cigarettes, and sometimes a loaf of bread if she needed it. When she got to that point Emily started sobbing, and Kevin offered her his handkerchief.

  Excusing herself for the moment, but promising to return later if any more news developed, Ella slipped quietly out the door, leaving Kevin to comfort the woman.

  The following morning Ella and her team met in the chief’s office. The murder of a councilman was now big news in the Four Corners and across the Rez, and pressure to find the killer had already started coming down on the department.

  Ella made a complete report, then waited. “Since the councilman’s expensive car wasn’t taken, and there were no signs he tried to resist in any way—I don’t think this was a simple robbery gone wrong. I think it was a hit. My guess is that the actual store robbery was strictly for show.”

  “But the victim’s wife said he was in the habit of carrying a lot of cash, right?” Ralph Tache asked. “That’s a pretty good motive. And if the councilman was used to stopping by at a particular time, well, you couldn’t miss spotting that luxury sedan.”

  “Then the robber would have probably waited for the councilman, instead of hitting the store first, wouldn’t he?” Justine said.

  “Good point.” Ralph nodded.

  “I still want to know why the councilman had taken up the habit of carrying so much cash,” Big Ed said. “To me, it suggests he’d come into a lot of money he didn’t want showing up in a bank account.”

  Ella nodded. “I’d thought about that. Maybe Redhouse was being bribed. He certainly could afford expensive transportation.”

  “Or just doing something illegal that was lining his pockets with money,” Big Ed added. “Government officials, money under the table…it all sounds too familiar. Check into it, Shorty.”

  Ella nodded. “Will do. What about the murder weapon, Justine?”

  “I did a comparison between the bullet that killed Officer Franklin and the one recovered from the councilman’s Lincoln. They appear to match, though I can’t be one hundred percent sure because the second bullet was really disfigured when it struck metal. But if this was the same shooter, which seems likely, does that mean the first murder was definitely not the result of a burglary gone bad?” Justine said.

  “There’s no way we can say for sure yet, especially if we take into account the amount of money the councilman was carrying. The shooter at the Quick Stop was wearing a mask, and I doubt the councilman recognized who it was. He shouldn’t have been killed, unless he refused to give up the car,” Ella replied.

  “Why would he?” Tache added. “He gave up his wallet, we know that, because it was already out of his pocket before he was shot. Cars can be replaced, and I’m willing to bet the councilman had insurance.”

  “Unless the motive is connected to something which required the theft of a particular item from the garage, then, later, the death of the tribal councilman,” Ella said. “Remember, also, that two people were involved in the last crime, and there probably wasn’t a driver waiting in the car at the first crime. Officer Franklin would have seen him,” Ella said.

  “I keep thinking of NEED. Remember the bumper sticker?” Justine added. “I’ve learned the councilman was against it.”

  The chief rocked back in his chair, as was his habit, then steepled his fingers, lost in thought. “The NEED issue has brought some very high-profile people—some who are for NEED and some against—to the foreground. But I can’t really see either side resorting to this kind of violence. We’re not dealing with hoods. So keep digging for a motive beyond burglary and robbery. And add the thought of under-the-table money changing hands, and all the reasons for that. Don’t leave any stone unturned.”

  When their meeting concluded, Justine and Tache left, but Big Ed called Ella back. “These two crimes, which are almost certainly connected, are now this department’s top priority. Do you need me to pull in anyone and add them to your team temporarily?” Big Ed asked.

  “I’d like permission to pull Sergeant Neskahi in on a part-time basis whenever I need him.”

  “Done.”

  As Ella walked down the hall toward the station’s small forensics lab, her mind was occupied w
ith thoughts about the investigation. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something.

  Finding Justine, Ella motioned for her to follow. Once they were in Ella’s office, she closed the door so they could speak freely without risk of being overheard. “I don’t want this to get out and damage anyone’s reputation needlessly,” she explained, “but I want warrants to search through Billy Redhouse’s home office and his tribal office in Shiprock. Warrants restricted to his papers, computers, and such will do. We want to see if he has any money stashed away, maybe something Emily doesn’t or wasn’t supposed to know about.”

  “I’ll get on that right now.”

  As Justine left, Ella sat down at her desk and mentally reviewed all that had happened since Billy Redhouse’s murder. Recalling how Kevin had stayed to console Emily Redhouse last night, it occurred to her that she’d never seen him so compassionate or gentle with anyone.

  She searched her feelings, trying to figure out if a part of her was jealous because he’d been giving another woman so much attention, but that wasn’t it. What she felt was closer to sadness for what might have been. They just weren’t right for each other. But to say that she didn’t harbor any feelings for the father of her child would have been a lie. Kevin would always hold a special place in her heart.

  As the phone rang, her thoughts shifted back to the business at hand.

  “It’s Blalock,” the FBI agent said, needlessly identifying himself. “Have you made any progress on the death of the patrolman?”

  “Not really, but it’s possible the same shooter also offed Councilman Billy Redhouse. We’re looking into that as I speak. How about the background information I asked you for? I’d still like to know more about Professor Franklin’s missing years. I know now that he worked on classified projects, and I’m thinking he may have made some enemies back then. Maybe one of those had a long memory and finally got even by killing his son.”