decaying flesh.
Ella stood well back for a moment, swallowing hard. She’d lost a friend, and though sorrow—and anger at the way he’d died—filled her in equal measure, there was no time to grieve. She had a job to do and Harry deserved nothing less than 100 percent from her.
“I can process the exteriormyself, if you’d like,” Benny said.
“Yeah, go ahead. That smudge on the driver’s side was supposedly made by one of the thieves when he reached in to pop the hood.”
Ella walked over to meet Joe Neskahi, who was coming down the hill, camera in hand. “Any luck up there?” she asked.
“I found a depressed area in the sand where the shooter lay in a prone position, but there wasn’t much else to goon. The rain pretty much obliterated everything except the gross outline. From the angle, I’d say he had an easy shot, especially if the vehicle was stationary. Is that your theory?”
“Yeah, that’s the way it looks. The engine was off, the brake set, and the transmission in park, judging from the blood splatter pattern. Besides, if he’d been moving, the pickup would have rolled downhill and offthe road,” Ella said. “Did you find any shell casings?”
“No, but Ralph’s going up there in a few minutes with the metal detector. I was about to check this side of the road cut in case it had rolled off the edge,” he said. “I did find one thing you need to know about right away. Tracks were deliberately left up there to mess with our minds.”
“What do you mean, Joe?” Ella asked.
“First of all,they weren’t made until after the rain. I figure they were left there yesterday or last night, and they go backwards from the shooting site.”
“Backwards?”
“Yeah. The shooter—who else would know where he’d been the day before—walked backwards from a section of hard ground to the spot where he took the shot. Then he carefully walked back in those same tracks. It gives the impression that he beameddown from above, took the shot, then walked off. Weird, huh? Something a Navajo witch would do?” he added, his voice lower now.
“You took photos?” Ella asked.
“From every angle,” he said.
“Good work,” Ella said. “Another thing, Joe. You volunteered to help Dr. Roanhorse before being asked. Thanks for stepping up like that.”
“Glad to help. I know this one’s not easy for you,” he said, “andthe doc’s always hard-pressed to find an extra pair of hands.”
It was the slight gentling in his voice when he spoke of Carolyn that let Ella know what she’d somehow missed. Joe was interested in her longtime friend.
“Are you two getting together later?” she asked, curious.
“I wish. We’ve had coffee a few times, but she’s more into medicine, science, and tribal politics than baseball, rodeo,and cars,” he said, and shrugged.
“So what are you saying, that she’s dating a politician?”
“No, more like a lawyer.” Joe shifted uneasily. “I’d better go look for that shell casing.” He nodded toward the slope in the road cut.
“Wait a sec. You know something. What’s going on?” she pressed.
“Don’t kill the messenger, okay?” He looked at the ground for a second or two, then spoke slowly. “Carolyn’sdating a guy pretty close to home these days—your home.”
Ella stared at him in confusion. All she could think of was Herman, her mom’s husband, who was pushing eighty. Then it hit her. “You mean like a lawyer—close to home?”
Joe nodded. “Yeah. She’s been seeing Kevin Tolino.”
The news left her speechless. Although she and Kevin hadn’t been intimate in years, and had never lived together either,he was her daughter’s father and played a large role in their lives. Getting used to this was going to take time.
Justine, who’d apparently been standing behind her, cleared her throat and stepped forward. “I’m done, boss. We need to send an officer to our friend’s residence to preserve any evidence there, but the system