Tracking Bear Read online

  Wilson spoke. “All true, but it should be different now—with scientific knowledge that simply wasn’t around before. And the public is a lot better educated.”

  “Still, the past is hard to forget,” Rose said. “For years our people lived in houses that contained uranium tailings in the concrete that made the foundations. And many of the uranium mine shafts are still uncovered, and the ground around them contaminated. Should we open up new mines? The tribe needs money, but surely not at any cost.”

  Wilson shrugged. “Still, operating a nuclear power plant here, even a small one, is something that could really turn our economic situation around. Do you realize that at current prices, we can make an estimated one billion dollars mining our own uranium and running the power plant—that is, if the plant is allowed to operate for twenty-five years.”

  “Even if we make more money, that still won’t guarantee that we’ll find harmony and walk in beauty,” Rose said. “Even a small mistake could be a disaster.”

  “I understand your fears,” Wilson said. “But what happened before shouldn’t happen again if the plant is run properly and safe mining practices are followed. A limited, short-term partnership with the current coal power plant operators would provide enough funding so we won’t be asked to empty the tribal accounts to get things set up. But control must remain with our own leaders. It’s our land, after all, and our resources.”

  “Why would the NEED project be any better than what we already have with the current operations?” Rose was taking notes with a small notebook.

  Wilson shrugged. “The coal-powered plant we have here still puts a lot of stuff into the air we breathe, and there’s the damage caused by the enormous surface-mining operations. A small modern nuclear facility, not one of the old-style monsters, is a good, clean, safe option for us.”

  “I’m still worried about the mines, and the miners. Before, many died, and continue to die, of what they call Red Lung—named for the blood those affected would cough up. And many are just now getting a reasonable financial settlement, decades too late for some. Certainly we know more today—but there might be something else we don’t know that’ll come back to haunt us in the future.” Rose grew somber.

  “There’s an element of risk in any new undertaking,” Wilson said.

  “Whatever I decide, I intend to first make sure that everyone knows the potential dangers of what they’re inviting onto our land before they agree to this nuclear casino. Thank you for your time and your thoughts, nephew,” Rose added, using the term as a sign of affection, not kinship.

  “Mom, wait, and I’ll walk back to the parking area with you,” Ella said.

  As Rose went out to the hall, Ella glanced back at Wilson. “I need a lead that will point me to Officer Franklin’s killer. If you hear anything from your students or elsewhere, give me a call.”

  “You’ve got it. I’ll start by finding out if the professor’s son ever attended classes here.”

  Ella joined her mother as they walked back to their cars. “I still can’t get used to you taking such an active part in tribal issues, Mom. That newspaper interview is bound to make you enemies, especially with that nuclear casino sound bite. Sometimes I think you pick all the hot issues on purpose—payback, so I’ll have to worry about you like you have about me all these years.”

  Rose smiled. “We both have to accept each other’s needs to be productive and useful—even if we make each other crazy, daughter.”

  Ella laughed. Rose was very much her own person these days. The mother-housekeeper Clifford and she had known had disappeared.

  They were nearing the parking area when a young woman in her early twenties, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, saw them and came over. Four other young women followed her.

  “Aren’t you Rose Destea, the traditionalist who is trying to turn everyone against a tribal nuclear power plant? I read what you said in the newspaper.”

  “You are right about my name. And although the newspaper gave a distorted report of my comments in that article, I do have many serious questions and concerns about the NEED project. But people are free to make up their own minds,” Rose answered calmly.

  “My name is Vera Jim.” The woman stepped right up to within a foot of Rose, but Rose didn’t flinch or give ground. “People like you are the tribe’s biggest enemies. You’re so used to living in poverty you can’t see that the opportunity has finally come for the rest of us to break out of this cycle of misery. New Traditionalists provide leaders who can improve our standard of living, but there is always someone like you to stand in our way.”

  “I am not an enemy of the tribe,” Rose said sharply. “The only ones who truly undermine who we are as the People are the ones who show no respect for our ways.”

  Ella was surprised by how well Rose had handled things, though she could tell her mother was furious with Vera Jim. Her gaze was on Rose when Vera suddenly pushed Rose hard.

  “Your ways suck!” Vera snarled.

  As Rose staggered back, Ella steadied her mother quickly, then in an instant stepped right up to Vera’s face, pinning her against the trunk of a cottonwood tree so she couldn’t move.

  “You have assaulted a member of our tribe,” Ella said. “I am a witness and a police officer.”

  “Daughter, let her go,” Rose said sharply. “There’s enough division among the Dineh as it is.”

  “Mom, you can press charges—”

  “No. That’s your way, not mine. Common sense and respect for their elders isn’t something you can force into a person. If they haven’t been raised properly, they have to learn it by themselves.”

  Still angry but unable to turn that feeling into action, Ella focused her attention back on Vera, who had wisely decided not to struggle. “If you ever pull something like that again—assaulting anyone young or old, I’ll haul you in. Am I making myself very clear?”

  The woman nodded but didn’t speak, deciding, apparently, that it was best to become one with the tree bark for a while longer.

  Ella stepped back, but Vera remained frozen in place. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and press charges myself.”

  It took a few seconds for Vera to get the courage to move, but when she did, she stomped away quickly without looking back, her fists tightly clenched.

  One of the women who had been with her hung back. “Vera really didn’t mean to be rough or anything. She’s going through tough times like most of us, and sometimes she gets so frustrated she just lashes out.”

  “Then advise her to work off her frustrations at a job or by running cross-country. Assaulting someone will land her in the tribal courts. Guaranteed, if I ever hear about it,” Ella said.

  Once they were alone again, Ella gave Rose a hard look. “You should have pressed charges, or at least let me haul her in for a few hours. I’ve dealt with young people like that before. The kindest thing you could have done for her was show her that actions have consequences.”

  Rose shook her head. “She’s a New Traditionalist,” Rose said, referring to the growing tribal faction who professed to believe in the old ways but strongly advocated using whatever modern means were available to improve the quality of life on the Rez. “She’s fighting for this tribe like I am—she just doesn’t know how to do that effectively yet.”

  Rose paused, then continued slowly. “I have a feeling that she’ll be one of my strongest adversaries someday. She’s as passionate about moving the tribe forward as I am about forcing people to weigh everything before making any lasting decisions. These newly proposed tribal ventures—trial casinos and the nuclear power plant—may exact a great price from all of us in the long run.”

  Wilson came running up as they started walking again. “I saw what happened from my office window. Are you two okay?” He glanced toward the group of young women, now some distance away.

  “Sure,” Ella said quickly. “That student, Vera Jim, is a hot-head, but she posed no serious threat.”

  He rel
axed visibly. “I know who she is. Her husband works for one of the oil well service companies. He’s an engineer and a financial supporter of the NEED Project. I’ve heard rumors that they, and others like them, overextended themselves trying to get NEED off the ground. Many have taken out second mortgages and borrowed all the money they can.”

  “I think I’ll look into that some more,” Ella said slowly. She wanted to know everything she could about her mother’s enemies.

  “You could talk to Samuel Nakai. He was a close friend of the Jims—that is until this issue came up. Samuel wouldn’t join in with them and invest in NEED. He was in favor of upgrading the technology at the coal-generated plants. Their differences ended up destroying their friendship.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Ella said.

  As Wilson headed back to his office, Ella fell into step beside Rose, who was walking in the direction of the parking lot. “You need to be careful, Mom. I think this issue is going to be more volatile than any of us suspected.”

  “I agree with you, daughter,” Rose said.

  Ella helped her mother into the family’s pickup. She’d wanted to buy Rose a new car last year, something with power brakes and steering, but Rose had not allowed it, insisting that it was a waste of money. As long as her truck continued to start every morning, she’d use it.

  Saying good-bye, Ella went to her tribal unit, which was in a special slot reserved for law enforcement vehicles. She’d speak to Samuel Nakai soon, but, right now, she needed to focus on Officer Franklin’s murder investigation.

  Ella checked in with Justine on the cell phone, then drove back to the station, lost in thought. Leads were few at the moment, so she’d start by trying to find any known enemies the officer might have had.

  When she walked back inside the station ten minutes later, she noticed the mood in the building was subdued. By now, everyone had learned about Jason’s Franklin’s death. Pressure to get answers would come not only from the Tribal Council and Navajo community, but from the rank-and-file officers who’d served with Franklin.

  Justine met her in the hall outside her office. “I’ve been waiting for you. We got Dr. Roanhorse-Lavery’s report, and it was as we thought. The officer was shot at point-blank range. She’s sending me a bullet she recovered, and I’ll be checking it later for caliber and all the rest.” She paused, then continued. “I was able to match Kee Franklin’s prints to some I lifted from one of the boxes in the garage. The professor’s prints are in a government database, as are Captain John Grayhorse’s, Martha’s husband. There’s one partial I haven’t been able to match up. One last thing. The black hairs we found came from a wig. They’re synthetic.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone around here, except chemo patients, buying a black hair wig. I mean, come on. Try to find a Navajo who doesn’t have black hair. Why spend money on something so ordinary?” She shrugged. “But let’s follow it up. Check and find out which stores in Farmington carry wigs, then see if you can learn the names of their customers.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have you managed to turn up anything useful on the officer’s personal relationships, politics, or circle of friends?” Ella asked.

  “All I know so far is that he’d taken a very strong position against NEED and other energy industry projects. I spoke to one of the uniforms who knew him for many years when he was assigned to the Keams Canyon area—Mike Kodaseet. Mike told me Jason was completely against anything that would reopen the doors to uranium mining.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Kodaseet said Franklin had relatives who’d died of Red Lung.”

  “How close were Kodaseet and Franklin?”

  “They’d worked adjacent patrol areas, backed each other up, and switched schedules from time to time, but they weren’t off-duty friends.”

  “Did Jason have a girlfriend or someone else he was especially close to?”

  “Kodaseet said Jason was dating an assistant professor at the local college by the name of Belinda Johns.”

  “She’s a Navajo?”

  “Yeah. She teaches introductory physics. Apparently, she’s a very bright lady.”

  “Let’s go talk to her.”

  “I figured you’d say that, so I called administration on campus. Professor Johns is ill this morning, so we’ll have to catch her at home. I’ve got her address.”

  Justine and Ella walked outside. Before they could head for her tribal unit, Justine stopped her. “I think we better take your vehicle, Ella. It’s in better shape than mine, and it’s a rough drive. I’ve got a bald tire that needs replacing, but you know how it is right now with the budget.”

  “No problem. Where does the professor live?”

  “About five miles from campus, but not in a developed area. She has electricity from a generator, but not much else by way of modern conveniences. She told Mike once that she wants to live out there until she finishes her book on Navajo views of the universe. Apparently the primitive setting inspires her work.”

  “She sounds like a New Traditionalist.”

  Justine nodded. “That’s what I was told.”

  “I wonder if she’s in favor of NEED and, if so, how that impacted on her relationship with Jason, if he was really a staunch opponent.” She paused, then added, “It ought to be an interesting interview.”

  Four

  It took nearly a half hour to reach Belinda Johns’s house. The road was nothing more than a long set of furrows cut into the ground by vehicles that had traveled over the hard alkaline soil.

  Soon they parked beside a Ford Bronco, which was in front of a modest but well-maintained frame-and-stucco house with a pitched roof. Justine pointed to the smoke coming from the chimney. “Someone’s home.”

  Ella walked with Justine to the front door. There was no need to wait in the car here until invited, the way things were normally done at the home of a traditionalist.

  Before they reached the front door it was opened, and a slender, attractive Navajo woman appeared wearing jeans, a light blue pullover sweater, and a small strand of turquoise and heishi beads. Her eyes were red and swollen as if she’d been crying.

  Ella introduced herself and showed the woman her badge. Justine followed suit.

  “You’re here to ask about Jason, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, may we come in?” Ella asked. Belinda Johns remained standing in the doorway, blocking their way.

  “Oh—I’m sorry,” she stepped aside, and then spoke quickly. “I should caution you that a lot of Jason’s things are still here. If the thought of the chindi will trouble either of you…” She shook her head, then exhaled softly. “Never mind. Of course it won’t bother you. If it did, you would have chosen another line of work.”

  Ella glanced around the living room. One whole wall was filled with bookshelves, and most of the titles appeared to be academic works. Not a fiction best-seller among them, it appeared.

  In the center of the outside wall stood a large, heavy-looking wood-and-coal stove. It was burning now, filling the room with a pleasant warmth. A large teakettle, minus a lid, was steaming gently, adding humidity to the dry air.

  Belinda gestured to a thick-cushioned sofa, then sat across the room from them in a matching love seat, spreading a wool throw over her lap. “Make yourselves comfortable, Officers. Would you like some herbal tea?” she asked, sipping a cup she’d lifted from the top of the stove as she passed by.

  “No, thanks.” Ella noted the photo of Belinda and Officer Franklin on an end table. “Will you tell us a little about your relationship to him?”

  She nodded. “Jason and I weren’t at all alike, but we had an understanding—we knew when to try and change each other’s opinions and when to back off. I never liked the fact that he was a tribal policeman, for example, but that was one of those things I couldn’t change.” She swallowed hard. “Now I wish I had tried to get him to quit.”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you can talk many police officers into quit
ting their jobs,” Ella said softly. “All of us know the risks, but we still value the profession.”

  “It’s the adrenaline rush, isn’t it?” Belinda said with a sad sigh. “The excitement of living on the edge?”

  “Partly,” Ella answered, “at least for some. But it’s also knowing that you’re doing something that needs to be done—that you can make a difference.”

  Belinda dabbed her eyes with a tissue and folded her legs beneath her, curling up in the thickly cushioned love seat. “I just spoke to Jason’s father. He was devastated.”

  “Is that how you found out what happened?” Justine asked.

  “No, I knew before that. Jason was supposed to call me last night when he got off duty. When he didn’t, I knew something was wrong. Keeping his word was a matter of pride to him.” She took another sip of her tea. “Then early this morning I heard that a patrolman had died.” Her voice broke. “They didn’t give his name, but I knew.”

  “Did Jason ever talk to you about his work?” Ella asked.

  “Sometimes. I know he was upset because of the funding problems the department has been having. He complained that he now had to buy his own rounds to practice at the police range. And he mentioned that his radio was unreliable. At least his police car started in the morning.”

  Ella and Justine exchanged glances, and Ella remembered the bad tire on Justine’s vehicle.

  “Did he talk about any of his investigations, or any specific crimes that had occurred in his patrol sector?” Ella focused back on the interview.

  Belinda paused for a long time, her expression thoughtful. “I remember he said something about a few recent car thefts, and keeping his eye out. That’s about it.”

  “Did he ever mention having problems getting along with anyone, either in the department, his neighborhood, or anywhere else?”

  “The only person I know he argued with was me. I’m for NEED, but Jason and his dad were dead set against it.” Belinda must have noticed her own wording, because tears began to form in her eyes.