She appeared from around the corner and tripped the man as he cut the corner, knocking him to the ground. When Ella and Blalock caught up, the suspect was already lying facedown on the ground. Justine handcuffed him and began reading him his rights. “No tribal cops have jurisdiction here!” he yelled. “This is San Juan County, not a reservation.” “I’m Special Agent Dwayne Blalock of the FBI, and you’re under arrest for fleeing an officer and possibly theft,” he said. “What’s your name?” he asked as Ella helped Justine haul the thirty-something Anglo to his feet. “I’m Billy O’Donnell.” He was wearing a Western-cut short-sleeved dress shirt, blue jeans, and a wide leather belt with a big silver and turquoise buckle. His boots looked expensive, either snake or alligator. “I’m not a thief, I’m the owner of the Emporium.” “Then why did you run?” Blalock asked. “The lady identified herself as a police officer.
