Death Walker

ONE Special Investigator Ella Clah stood in the doorway to her living room, nibbling on a slice of honeydew melon from her brother's garden. It was still early in the morning, but her mother was already helping Valerie Yazzie finish the velveteen wedding outfit Valerie's daughter would wear on her wedding day in less than a week. Ella's mother looked up and smiled at her. Rose Destea was, like her daughter, taller than most Navajo women, and only a dozen or so pounds heavier than Ella. "Take a break from all that paperwork you brought from the police department and have a decent breakfast. That's not the way to start a morning you're supposed to have off." Ella shrugged. "There's a lot of work to get done. We've had some major changes in the department. Our new police chief wants things donehisway. He's determined to recapture the faith people had in us once." Valerie Yazzie shook her head. The middle-aged Navajo woman wore a perpetual frown that had, through the years, become ingrained in her features. "There were so many we trusted we shouldn't have. It's hard to forget how they betrayed the tribe." "But the department is clean now, and Big Ed Atcitty is going to make sure it stays that way. He's an excellent leader, and tough, but fair." Ella bit off another piece of the juicy melon and swallowed. "We're just having to do a lot of work fast to put the changes he wants into effect." "What you find difficult, daughter, is doing things someone else's way," Rose said with a smile. "You've always had definite opinions on how things should be handled." Ella smiled grudgingly. "Well, I suppose that's true." Rose turned her attention back to the hem she was pinning. "This is going to be such a lovely wedding dress!" "You'll be making one for your own daughter before too long," Valerie commented mischievously, nodding toward Ella. "She will want to trade in her gun belt for a cradle board sooner or later." Ella choked on the piece of melon and reached to the kitchen counter for a napkin. "Don't count on it." Rose sighed and looked at Valerie. "See how she is? I've just about given up hope." She paused, then with a tiny smile added, "but not quite." As the telephone rang and interrupted them, Ella gave the phone company a mental high-five. She'd been literally saved by the bell. "I'll take that." "You might as well," Rose muttered. "It's probably for you. They won't leave you alone, even on your morning off. I never get any calls in my own home anymore." Ella chose not to comment. It was an old argument. Her mother couldn't understand her dedication to police work and the incredible sense of purpose it gave her. In truth, she found it difficult to explain to anyone. Only another cop could understand that addiction to the incredible highs and lows of the work; the need to restore order to a world that resisted at every turn. Ella walked down the hall to her room, closed the door, and answered the phone. "Hold for Police Chief Atcitty, please," said the crisp voice of Big Ed's secretary. Ella sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. More than eight months had passed since she'd resigned from the FBI and moved back to the Rez to stay with her widowed mother. She gazed around her room, lost in memories. Most of what was around her was less than a year oThurlo, Aimée is the author of 'Death Walker' with ISBN 9780765306517 and ISBN 0765306514.