Death Walker by Aimée & David Thurlo Read Free Book Online Page A

should verify that with your brother.”
    Despiteherself, Ella glanced down at the table. The corpse had been covered with a sheet, but the dented outline of the head was visible through the drape, reminding her of the brutality of the crime. “So, we may be dealing with a skinwalker wannabe.”
    “That’s my guess, too. But there was that painting done in ashes…” She let the sentence hang.
    “I’ll take photos of it to Clifford. As a hataalii he’llbe able to tell us what it’s supposed to mean, if anyone can.”
    “I’ll keep working. But Ella—this isn’t like before. The people who worked on your father’s body were experts in the Navajo Way. This is something else—amateurish, for lack of a more appropriate term. It’s like someone wants to make you think a skinwalker did it. Maybe they want to bring up memories that’ll confuse your thinking.”
    Determination shot through Ella like a bolt of electricity. “It won’t work.”
    Carolyn glanced back down at the body beneath the sheet. “I’ll let you know the moment I finalize my report.”
    Leaving Carolyn to her work, Ella walked out to the parking lot. She’d pick up the photographs from the crime scene if they were available, then head over to Clifford’s. If their family was going to come underattack again, the sooner her brother knew what was going on the better things would be.
    Ella drove directly to the station. As she parked in the small parking lot, she noted that Tache’s vehicle was one of those that remained. She was almost sure that Tache had developed the photos by now. He was one of the most efficient and hardworking cops around.
    It was near dusk, that time in between lightand dark when shadows stretched almost to the horizon. Shifts had changed, and the office staff was long gone. Nerves stretched taut, she left her vehicle, automatically searching the area with the vigilance of a cop about to come under fire.
    She walked directly to the back of the building where her small office was located. It had been Sergeant Peterson Yazzie’s once, but now it held only asmall desk with computer, her file cabinets, and a few mementos of her past. She’d hung her UNM diploma on one wall, and a shooting trophy she’d won during her days at the bureau was on a file cabinet. It was stark and utilitarian, but she was finally home. Her accomplishments in the outside world weren’t as important to her as that one fact.
    Ella sat back in her chair organizing her thoughts.As her gaze fell on the desk drawer, she felt a prickle of uneasiness. The drawer had been left partially open. She always shut things all the way, part of her predilection for order.
    Ella pulled out the drawer slowly and carefully. It slid easily, and the contents didn’t appear to have been touched. Of course, anyone could have come in searching for a pencil, or a paper clip, or any of halfa dozen other things. She glanced down at the little box of clips. The lid was shut, just as she’d left it, and all of her pens and pencils seemed to be there.
    Perhaps the person who’d been in her desk had left something behind instead. Ella thought for a moment, trying to remember the last time someone at the station had borrowed something of hers. Scanning the drawer, she noticed nothing newamong the supplies.
    She reached underneath the drawer, running her fingers back and forth, remembering the time Blalock had bugged her mother’s home. Not feeling anything fastened there, she pulled the drawer out completely and set it on her desk.
    Ella got down on her knees and looked into the open cavity where the drawer had been, running her hand over it. She really wasn’t sure if she wasbeing paranoid or just cautious, but after the murder she wasn’t about to get complacent about anything.
    As she got to her feet, Ella noticed a thin, tan-colored, rectangular outline about an inch wide and four inches long on the back of the drawer. Touching the spot, her fingers detected the sticky