"He died of heart failure," Kari said, confusion clouding her thoughts."That's what Mom always told me."
"His heart failed because his spirit had already begun to fade," Ruth countered."The knowledge he gained during that case… it took pieces of him each time he returned to those places."
Kari's training rebelled against such mystical explanations, but recent experiences had taught her that Ruth's warnings often contained truth, however metaphorically expressed."I need more than this, Shimásání.What was he investigating beyond the murders themselves?"
Ruth gathered herself, seeming to make a difficult decision."I cannot tell you what I do not fully understand myself, and I will not try.I must do my best to protect you, as your grandfather did his best to protect me."
The conversation was clearly over.Ruth had retreated into the focused silence she maintained when performing ceremonial work, her body language conveying a boundary as tangible as any physical barrier.Kari knew from long experience that no further information would be forthcoming today.
"Thank you for the meal," she said, moving toward the door."And for your guidance."
Ruth didn't respond, her hands moving ceaselessly among the herbs, as if the methodical work might ward off whatever fear their conversation had awakened.
Outside, the afternoon sun beat down with indifferent intensity, the mundane reality of heat and dust a jarring contrast to the unsettling conversation within.Kari stood beside her Jeep for a moment, trying to process what had just transpired.
She thought about Ruth's words:I must do my best to protect you, as your grandfather did his best to protect me.She thought of the instantaneous change that had come over her grandmother at the sight of the herbs.
The fear.
Whatever Joseph had protected Ruth from, it was clear to Kari that it hadn't completely left her grandmother untouched.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kari drove away from her grandmother's house, Ruth's warnings echoing in her mind with unsettling persistence.The abrupt shift in Ruth's demeanor—from composed elder to someone visibly afraid—had shaken Kari more than she cared to admit.In all the months since returning to the reservation, she had never seen her grandmother so disturbed.
Some knowledge is like poison.
It was clear Ruth knew something about these murders, something connected to Joseph Chee's unfinished investigation fifty years earlier.Something she feared would harm Kari if pursued too deeply.
But that wasn't going to stop Kari from getting to the bottom of it.
Pulling onto the main road, Kari considered her options.Returning directly to the station would be the standard procedure—sharing Ruth's limited insights with Ben, continuing their methodical review of the evidence.But Ruth's reaction suggested the answers they needed might not be found in official records.Whatever had hollowed Joseph Chee from within, as Ruth had described, likely existed in memories rather than documentation.
She needed someone who had been there, someone who might remember details about cases her grandfather had investigated without the personal connection that had made Ruth withdraw.Someone who understood both the official police procedures of the time and the traditional perspectives that had shaped the community's response.
Thomas Adakai.
The name surfaced in her thoughts with sudden clarity.Adakai had retired from the tribal council last spring after over forty years of service, his official farewell ceremony attended by representatives from every chapter house across the reservation.Before politics, however, he had been one of the first college-educated officers to join the tribal police in the early 1970s, serving briefly before being recruited into tribal administration.
She'd never met him personally, but his reputation was legendary.Her mother had often mentioned him as an example of someone who successfully navigated both traditional and modern leadership roles.And during her first month back on the reservation, Captain Yazzie had specifically pointed Adakai out during a community gathering, identifying him as "someone who remembers the details others try to forget."
That was exactly the perspective she needed now—someone with memories of those old cases who might be willing to share them without Ruth's protective reticence.
Changing direction, Kari headed toward the western edge of the reservation, where Adakai had lived for decades in a modest home overlooking the valley.The drive would take nearly an hour, but she felt a growing certainty that official records alone wouldn't reveal the full truth about what had happened fifty years ago, or why it appeared to be happening again now.
As she drove, Kari called Ben to update him on her plans.He answered on the second ring, background noise suggesting he was still at the station.
"Any luck with Ruth?"he asked immediately.
"Not exactly," Kari replied, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as the road curved alongside a dry wash."She recognized the herbs but became seriously disturbed when I showed her the photographs.Performed an immediate protection ceremony for me and warned me away from the case entirely."
Ben was silent for a moment."That's...unusual.Ruth has never interfered with your police work before."
"I know.She said my grandfather knew the truth about the original murders but protected her from the details."Kari accelerated as the road straightened."She seemed genuinely afraid, Ben.Not just concerned—afraid."
"Did she explain why?"
"Not clearly.Just said some knowledge is dangerous, like poison."Kari sighed."I've decided to speak with Thomas Adakai.He was a junior officer back in the early seventies before joining tribal administration.Might remember details about my grandfather's investigation."
