Shooting Chant by Aimée & David Thurlo Page B

Seated in front of his desk, she regarded him silently.
    “Your medical records file is missing. Can you think of a reason someone might be interested in it?”
    “No, not at all,”she replied. “But I doubt they were after information on me. I may have just been part of a handful they picked up. They took fifteen. Maybe that was all they could carry.” That was the only explanation that made sense to her. She really didn’t see any reason to have to tell Big Ed right now that she was pregnant. There’d be time enough for that later.
    “So, why the break-in, and the theft ofrecords? Any theories yet?” Big Ed clipped.
    “Maybe blackmail, or a legal advantage? I was thinking of injury or paternity suits and that sort of thing. Getting privileged information could be handy for someone hoping to make a few dollars or stir up trouble.”
    Big Ed nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right. Get in touch with Kevin Tolino and appraise him of what’s happening. I want the policedepartment’s role in this to be clear, because Myrna’s convinced the clinic could be sued by the patients whose records have been compromised. Those files are supposed to be confidential.”
    “I’ll let Kevin know.”
    “Keep pushing for answers on this burglary, Shorty. Senator Yellowhair will be calling me the second he learns his wife’s records were taken. I can already feel him breathing down myneck.”
    Ella left the office and went directly to her vehicle. She first tried to reach Kevin on her cell phone, but his secretary told her he was in court. Determined to have something new to report to Big Ed later, she drove over to her brother’s home, which was within a few miles of her mother’s, but farther back from the highway. Clifford, one of the tribe’s best-known medicine men, was alwaysin contact with The People and often knew things long before the police.
    She drove across the juniper- and piñon-littered desert slowly and maneuvered down the last section of the meandering dirt track leading to his home. Clifford was outside the medicine hogan by the time she arrived. He’d undoubtedly heard the vehicle a mile or more away on the rough road and had stepped outside to see whowas approaching. He waited for her now in front of the wool blanket covering the entrance.
    Ella parked, then went to join him as he waved for her to come inside.
    “I’ve been expecting you,” he said, motioning for her to sit down on one of the sheepskin hides used as both cushion and blanket.
    “You heard about the break-in at the clinic?”
    “Yes, but there are more important things happening onthe Rez than that burglary. The traditionalists are saying that Anglo ways are undermining our tribe and they have started a movement to close the reservation to Anglos, except for tourists. They want companies like the ones that own the mines, and LabKote, ousted.”
    “The Dineh need the jobs those companies bring, brother. Without work, many would have to take charity from the tribe or move offthe Navajo Nation in search of employment. The land can’t support everyone as farmers and herdsmen. Why can’t our traditionalists face up to that fact?”
    He shook his head slowly. “What they see is our people losing track of who they are and becoming just like the Anglos, and that frightens them.”
    “Change can be frightening,” she admitted.
    “More so for the old ones. They feel as if their waysand everything they value is becoming obsolete.” Clifford gave her a long, thoughtful look. “But this isn’t why you came here today, is it?”
    “No, it’s not,” she admitted. “I need a favor. I’d like you to keep your eyes and ears open for me. I may need help to solve that break-in at the clinic. The privacy of many Navajos has been threatened.”
    “I haven’t heard anything about that yet, but maybeI will.”
    “I’d also like for you to help me defuse another situation, brother. This business with the animals, which began with the