Navajo Way—had put them on a collision course many times.
Yet, despite the differences between Kee and Jason, Ella believed in the bond between father and son. Her own father and brother had held completely different religious beliefs, but Clifford had risked his own life to help find their father’s killer, and Ella knewthey’d loved each other in spite of everything. The importance of family, of respect for the clan, was as much a part of most Navajos as was breathing.
After taking several pamphlets Belinda had offered them that explained and described the NEED project, Justine and Ella left. “What’s your take on Professor Johns?” Ella asked once they were outside the main building.
“I think Belinda’s playingit straight, but I really wish I could get a better feel for Jason. I did speak to Mike Kodaseet last night, and he said that Jason had always searched for purpose in his life, but it wasn’t until he became a cop that he got himself together. I gathered from our brief conversation that Jason got himself into trouble frequently as a kid,” Justine said.
“So maybe that was why he helped Albert Washburn.”
“I also did a quick background check on Washburn. Albert’s on parole and doesn’t have a job. I spoke to his parole officer, and he said that Albert spends most of his day at home. He lives with his mom, who works as a hospice care nurse in Farmington.”
“Do you have his address?”
Justine read it off from the pad she kept in her jacket pocket, and they set out in that direction. A half hour later,they pulled up in front of Albert’s home. The area was along the river northeast of the bridges, and was occupied mostly with worn mobile homes. The lots were small, and some were fenced off with barriers ranging from railroad ties to chicken wire. Many poor people lived in Shiprock, and this was one of the poorest neighborhoods. Trash littered many of the yards, though a few were cleaned upand weedless.
They stopped in front of one of the latter trailers. The clean white mailbox showcased the address, hand-painted in turquoise blue.
As they parked in the graveled slot wide enough for one vehicle, a young man, around seventeen, wearing jeans and a thick pullover sweater, came out and stood on the small wooden porch. Something in his gaze told Ella that he already knew who theywere. Of course, that wasn’t at all remarkable. Virtually every teenager in the community was aware that Investigator Ella had one of the few unmarked police units, and that it was a blue Jeep.
Ella reached the porch a step ahead of Justine and pulled out her badge. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t know what more I can tell the police. I know you’re after Officer Franklin’s killer,and I’d sure like to help with that, but I have no idea who did it.”
“Can we come inside?” Ella asked, uncomfortably aware of the brisk wind that had kicked up. Down here by the river it could really get cold. A flock of migrating ducks flew across the levee behind the trailer, and she wondered for the hundredth time how they could swim in that icy water so easily. Just the thought made her shiver.
“Sure. Come inside where it’s warm.”
Ella and Justine were both pleasantly surprised by how orderly and clean the interior of the mobile home was. The sofa was old and worn, but neatly arranged with two throw pillows. Facing the sofa were two folding chairs with torn cushions that had been repaired with matching vinyl tape. At the end of the living area were a simple wooden chair and an inexpensiveparticleboard computer desk that held a desktop computer and inkjet printer. Several open books were arranged around the keyboard.
Following her line of vision, he added, “I’m doing some research for an assignment—a term paper. I’m trying to get my GED. Then, if I can manage it, I’m going to enroll in the local college.”
“What kind of degree are you going after?”
“I’m not sure yet.
Yet, despite the differences between Kee and Jason, Ella believed in the bond between father and son. Her own father and brother had held completely different religious beliefs, but Clifford had risked his own life to help find their father’s killer, and Ella knewthey’d loved each other in spite of everything. The importance of family, of respect for the clan, was as much a part of most Navajos as was breathing.
After taking several pamphlets Belinda had offered them that explained and described the NEED project, Justine and Ella left. “What’s your take on Professor Johns?” Ella asked once they were outside the main building.
“I think Belinda’s playingit straight, but I really wish I could get a better feel for Jason. I did speak to Mike Kodaseet last night, and he said that Jason had always searched for purpose in his life, but it wasn’t until he became a cop that he got himself together. I gathered from our brief conversation that Jason got himself into trouble frequently as a kid,” Justine said.
“So maybe that was why he helped Albert Washburn.”
“I also did a quick background check on Washburn. Albert’s on parole and doesn’t have a job. I spoke to his parole officer, and he said that Albert spends most of his day at home. He lives with his mom, who works as a hospice care nurse in Farmington.”
“Do you have his address?”
Justine read it off from the pad she kept in her jacket pocket, and they set out in that direction. A half hour later,they pulled up in front of Albert’s home. The area was along the river northeast of the bridges, and was occupied mostly with worn mobile homes. The lots were small, and some were fenced off with barriers ranging from railroad ties to chicken wire. Many poor people lived in Shiprock, and this was one of the poorest neighborhoods. Trash littered many of the yards, though a few were cleaned upand weedless.
They stopped in front of one of the latter trailers. The clean white mailbox showcased the address, hand-painted in turquoise blue.
As they parked in the graveled slot wide enough for one vehicle, a young man, around seventeen, wearing jeans and a thick pullover sweater, came out and stood on the small wooden porch. Something in his gaze told Ella that he already knew who theywere. Of course, that wasn’t at all remarkable. Virtually every teenager in the community was aware that Investigator Ella had one of the few unmarked police units, and that it was a blue Jeep.
Ella reached the porch a step ahead of Justine and pulled out her badge. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t know what more I can tell the police. I know you’re after Officer Franklin’s killer,and I’d sure like to help with that, but I have no idea who did it.”
“Can we come inside?” Ella asked, uncomfortably aware of the brisk wind that had kicked up. Down here by the river it could really get cold. A flock of migrating ducks flew across the levee behind the trailer, and she wondered for the hundredth time how they could swim in that icy water so easily. Just the thought made her shiver.
“Sure. Come inside where it’s warm.”
Ella and Justine were both pleasantly surprised by how orderly and clean the interior of the mobile home was. The sofa was old and worn, but neatly arranged with two throw pillows. Facing the sofa were two folding chairs with torn cushions that had been repaired with matching vinyl tape. At the end of the living area were a simple wooden chair and an inexpensiveparticleboard computer desk that held a desktop computer and inkjet printer. Several open books were arranged around the keyboard.
Following her line of vision, he added, “I’m doing some research for an assignment—a term paper. I’m trying to get my GED. Then, if I can manage it, I’m going to enroll in the local college.”
“What kind of degree are you going after?”
“I’m not sure yet.
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