checked her spare clips before returning them to her pockets. She then examined her boot holster and the backuppistol there. There were two rounds in the derringer, and it had taken both of them the last time she’d needed it.
For a moment she felt like a knight-errant getting ready to do battle. She smiled, liking the mental image. Sometimes harsh realities needed a touch of soft fantasy to make them easier to bear.
Ella started toward the front door. Today she’d visit Dodge’s neighbors first. By thetime she made a stop at the Totah Café for coffee and finished the drive out to that farm, it would be morning and a decent time to call. After that, she’d go see Haske.
Ella went to her Jeep, checked the tires and oil, then began the journey. Touching base with the dispatcher as she drove through Shiprock, she learned that all the evidence pouches were slated to be sent by courier to the crimelab in Albuquerque, and would be given top priority by request of the FBI—Blalock had kept his promise to put a rush on it. They would have some preliminary results by the end of the day, with luck.
As the miles stretched behind her, she felt an unfamiliar restlessness nagging at her. Normally these long drives helped sort out her thoughts, but right now the delays created by the incredibly longdistances she had to travel to interview people grated on her nerves. She recognized the symptoms of post-stress syndrome even in herself. She’d lived through too many partial victories this past year to be immune to the strain.
Ella forced her thoughts onto the tack she wanted to take when she spoke to Dodge’s neighbors. She knew getting them to talk to her freely and openly wouldn’t be easy.
It was eight in the morning by the time she reached Elsie Billey’s home. The seventy-year-old woman had lived in a modest cinder block house right off the irrigation ditch as far back as anyone could remember. When her only son had been killed in Vietnam, everyone had thought Elsie would die too. Her grief had been great, but everyone had underestimated the strength of the elderly woman who hadalready buried two husbands.
Ella parked near the front door and waited, but she didn’t have to wait long. Elsie came to the front door, wearing a long skirt and a bright red long-sleeved blouse. Recognizing Ella, she waved.
Ella left the vehicle and walked to the door, stopping on the wooden steps. “It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”
Elsie nodded, concern in her eyes adding to theserious look on her wrinkled face. “Bad things are happening again. I heard about that accident where all those people were killed, and about the murder of my neighbor. I figured the police would be by soon.”
“That’s why I’m here. You’ve been a friend of my family’s for years. I’m hoping that you’ll also see me as a friend.”
“Your mother’s clan and mine are related,” Elsie said, reaching upabsently to touch the large silver and turquoise squash blossom around her neck. “We belong to the Deer People, and you to the God People. We’re all Red Soil People.” She gestured inside, then offered Ella a chair. “What do you need from me?”
“Information. Your neighbor must have made some bad enemies.”
Elsie shook her head. “No, that’s not true. I would have heard if that had been so.”
“MaybeI should look for someone who was giving his family trouble?” Ella asked, trying to find another way to open the doors to the information she was certain Elsie had.
“Oh, you’ve heard about his argument with Stubby over the irrigation water.” Elsie shook her head and shrugged. “That’s just Stubby’s way. Besides, both those old men liked to argue. It gave them something to do.”
Ella sat back andregarded the elderly woman for several long seconds. Her hair was tied back in a bun at the base of her neck, but several strands had worked loose and hung down in errant locks. “If you were me, where would you start