Blackening Song Read Online Free PDF Page A

around, she noted gratefully that the remains were once again covered by the thin sheet. “This wasn’t—”
    She broke off as a tall, brown-haired Anglo, wearing a dark gray suit and maroon tie, strode into the room. “Who’s Peterson Yazzle?”
    She knew instantly that the intruder was Blalock, the FBI agent assigned to the case. One glance told her he was wrong for the job. Helooked as if he’d arrived by limo from a Washington, D.C., boardroom.
    Peterson stared coldly at him. “I’m Sergeant Yazzie. I assume you’re Blalock. May I see some identification, please?”
    The man flashed his gold badge, his manner condescending, as if he seriously doubted the intelligence of everyone in the room. “I’m the agent in charge of this case. Who is this woman and what is she doinghere? The body has already been identified.”
    Peterson glanced at Ella, then back at the man. “There seems to have been a mix-up. Meet FBI agent Ella Clah. Her father was the victim.”
    “Dwayne Blalock,” he said and shook her hand. “I’d like to speak to you in private, Agent Clah.”
    She stepped to the side of the room with Blalock. He had one brown eye and one green one. She found the oddity distracting,but pushed it from her mind.
    Since she already knew what he was going to say, Ella figured she’d save him the trouble. “Look, this is just a misunderstanding. The sergeant is my cousin, and I had a few questions to ask him. It was professional courtesy.”
    “Don’t B.S. me, Clah. I’ve been briefed about you. You’re said to be a good agent, but so am I. Don’t try to get involved in my case. You haveorders to stay away. You don’t want to blow your career.”
    “My father has been killed. What would you do if you were in my place?” she challenged.
    “ I will arrest whoever murdered him,” he said, avoiding the question. “I won’t have you slowing me down.”
    “Listen to me, Blalock. Take a good look around you. You’re an outsider here, no matter how long you’ve been in New Mexico. To make any headwayon this case, you’re going to need some cooperation. Have you ever worked a case on Native American land before?”
    “I’ve been in this wretched backwater for two years—in other words, forever. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. Bet on it.”
    “You’ll need contacts on a case like this, lots of them. Very few people on the Rez will talk to strangers about crimes like this one.”
    “I’d ratherwork alone,” Blalock said, “but I’ll use the tribal police if I have to. I’ve got to tell you, though, I’ve learned not to expect too much from them or their methods.”
    “You’ll need more than the help of the tribal police,” Ella insisted. “To get anywhere, you’re going to need someone like me, someone who is part of this world and yours.”
    “No deal. Right now this Yazzie guy is going to give mea full briefing. Then I’ll know what progress has been made. The tribal police chief is going to be meeting me here in a few minutes. You and I will meet later today and you’ll give me whatever information you’ve got. After that, you stay out of it.”
    Blalock paused for breath, but whatever he intended to say was cut off when the door opened and Tribal Police Chief Randall Clah stepped into theroom. His presence was imposing. Navajos tended to be taller than their Pueblo Indian neighbors in the Southwest, but Randall was big even for a Navajo. Standing six feet three, he was a barrel-chested man with broad, strong shoulders.
    His gaze took in everything in the room, passing over Peterson and focusing on Ella and Blalock. His eyes were hooded, revealing nothing except perhaps politeindifference.
    Randall Clah was Ella’s former father-in-law. His greeting was as cool as she’d expected.
    “What kind of operation are you running here, Chief?” Blalock demanded loudly. “The sergeant brings relatives in for a briefing without any authorization. We’re going to have to set