Ghost Medicine by Aimée and David Thurlo Page A

and Mr. Sells ran over to the stranded SUV, fire extinguishers in hand, and circled it slowly, looking for any flames still needing attention.

    Standing closer than before, Ella checked the bogged-down vehicle’s undercarriage closest to where the oil had been spilled. She could see a section of scorched paint below the driver’s-side door panel. It was still smoking.
    She hit it with a sweep of the spray, then stepped back, looking for other hot spots as she continued to inch around the vehicle.
    “Looks like we’ve got it now,” Mr. Sellssaid, still circling around the SUV, looking underneath.
    Ella glanced back at the road where the amber liquid, probably cooking oil judging from the smell, still smoked amid the broken glass. Mrs. Sells was walking toward the origin point, pulling a garden hose with a spray nozzle and a slight drip. The children were inside, watching out the window.
    “Shall I hose everything down, Delbert?” Mrs.Sells asked her husband.
    “Not the oil, just the SUV, okay?” Justine said, looking at Sells, who nodded.
    With everything under control now, Ella glared at Justine. “ Are you crazy? That was a really dangerous thing to do.”
    Justine cringed. “I took that fire department training last spring, remember? I removed the SUV from the heat source, then cut off the oxygen,” she said, then with a sheepishsmile, added, “And I saved us both from days of paperwork while we tried to get another car from the motor pool.”
    Ella didn’t know whether to hug her or slug her. “Vehicles are expendable—you’re not. If anything like this ever happens again—”
    “Yeah, let it burn,” Justine said.
    “Exactly. Now, take the hose from Mrs. Sells and soak down the undercarriage of the car and the engine compartment,just in case. I’ve got to call this in.” Ella looked in the direction the pickup had fled. All she could see now was a faint trail of dust.
    “Think they’ll get stopped?” Justine said, following her gaze.
    “If they took off for Shiprock, maybe. If they headed west, we’re probably screwed, at least for now. That was a Ford 150, right?”
    “Yes, a 2004 or ’05,” Mr. Sells answered, coming up besideher with the other fire extinguisher. “Two-wheel drive, mineral gray finish.”
    Ella looked at him in surprise.
    “Delbert knows his pickups,” Mrs. Sells confirmed.
    *   *   *
    Ella decided not to drive the SUV in case there were damaged components that would create a hazard. While they were waiting for a tow truck from Shiprock, they spoke at length with the Sellses, but neither had seen anythingthe day of Harry’s murder nor any sign of skinwalkers. Having heard the gossip, however, they were now keeping their children under close watch.
    Two hours later, with nothing but frustration to show for their efforts, they headed east toward Shiprock in another tribal cruiser. The patrolman who’d brought over the vehicle had ridden back in the tow truck.
    They’d just passed the high school andwere approaching the intersection of Highway 491 and 64 when Ella’s cell phone rang. The number was blocked, which usually meant it was one of her officers.
    “Investigator Clah, it’s Detective Dan Nez,” said the familiar voice.
    He was all business, which meant he wasn’t alone, but she knew him well enough to notice the slight gentling in his tone as he spoke to her.
    “Detective Nez,” Ella said,trying to ignore Justine’s knowing smile. “What can I do for you?”
    “I’m assisting county officers trying to locate the woman seen with your murder victim the night before his death. We’ve got a sketch to work with now, and we’ll be showing it around the apartment building, local markets, and gas stations. After that, I’ll start hitting area night spots. By then, I expect it’ll be around eight P.M., so why don’t we meet and work this as a joint undercover op, beginning at the bar closest to the vic’s apartment? If this woman’s a hooker,