Kari opened her computer and accessed the expanded visitor database, which included commercial tour registrations in addition to research permits.If Reynolds and Holbrook had participated in guided activities during their visits, those might reveal additional overlap.
The search returned dozens of entries for the past month, but Kari quickly spotted a familiar pattern.Both Reynolds and Holbrook had registered for guided cultural tours with "Sacred Pathways," a locally operated company specializing in traditional knowledge and sites of cultural significance.More importantly, both had been assigned to tours led by the same guide: Marcus Tso.
"Gotcha," she whispered, immediately beginning a deeper search on this new name.
Marcus Tso's online footprint revealed an intriguing background: thirty-two years old, born on the reservation but educated at Arizona State University, where he'd studied anthropology before returning home three years ago.His professional bio on the Sacred Pathways website described him as "dedicated to sharing authentic Navajo traditions with respectful visitors while protecting sacred knowledge from exploitation."His photograph showed a handsome, charismatic young man with an engaging smile and the confident posture of someone comfortable in the spotlight.
Most telling was his area of specialty: traditional healing practices and ceremonial herbs.The company's promotional materials emphasized his expertise in medicinal plants and their cultural significance, quoting him as saying, "Every plant carries knowledge older than human memory.Our ancestors learned to listen to what these plants could teach them."
Kari felt the familiar tingle of investigative instinct—it wasn't quite evidence, but it was certainly a pattern worth pursuing.She dialed Ben's number, drumming her fingers against the desk as she waited for him to answer.
"Tsosie," he said, the background noise suggesting he was outdoors.
"I've got something," Kari said without preamble."Both victims participated in cultural tours led by a guide named Marcus Tso.He runs a company called Sacred Pathways, specializes in traditional healing practices and ceremonial herbs."
"Including white prairie aster?"Ben asked, immediately picking up the significance.
"His promotional materials specifically mention rare medicinal plants and their ceremonial uses," Kari said."He studied anthropology at ASU before returning to the reservation three years ago."
"Where's his operation based?"
"Main office is at Red Rock Trading Post," Kari said, reading from the website."They run afternoon tours daily until sunset.If we leave now, we might catch him with his last group."
"I'm finishing up at the Records Department," Ben replied."Nothing on your grandfather's personal notes yet, but I'll meet you at the trading post in twenty minutes."
The Red Rock Trading Post stood at a crossroads where tourism and tradition met in uneasy alliance—a sprawling structure of weathered timber and stone that housed everything from authentic Navajo crafts to mass-produced souvenirs.As Kari pulled into the crowded parking area, she spotted Ben's department SUV already waiting near the entrance.
"Anything on the surveillance detail for Manuelito?"Ben asked as she approached.
"Nothing noteworthy.He's spent the afternoon at home, working in his garden."Kari scanned the building's perimeter."Any sign of Tso?"
"Not yet.The woman at the information desk said his tour group should be returning within the next half-hour."Ben nodded toward a path leading behind the trading post."They have a demonstration area for traditional practices on the east side.That's where the tours conclude."
They circled the building, following hand-painted signs toward an open-air pavilion where benches had been arranged in a semicircle around a central demonstration area.As they approached, Kari heard a confident male voice carrying clearly through the afternoon air, his cadence practiced yet engaging.
"The relationship between Diné people and these plants stretches back to the beginning of our stories," the voice was saying."Each plant offers specific medicines, but the true healing comes from understanding how they work together in proper balance."
Kari and Ben paused at the edge of the pavilion, taking in the scene before announcing their presence.A group of about fifteen tourists sat rapt with attention as Marcus Tso moved among native plants arranged on a display table.He was taller than his photograph suggested, with the easy grace of someone completely comfortable in his own skin.As he spoke, his hands drifted through the air, emphasizing key points and drawing invisible connections between the plants he was discussing.
"These are the foundations of traditional healing," Tso continued, lifting a bundle of dried sage."Sage cleanses spaces and spirits alike.Cedar invites beneficial energy.Juniper provides protection."He reached for a smaller bundle containing delicate white flowers."And this—white prairie aster—is among our most sacred healing plants, used only for specific conditions affecting the spirit more than the body."
Kari and Ben exchanged meaningful glances.The specific combination matched exactly what had been found in the victims' mouths.
"Should we interrupt?"Ben murmured.
Kari shook her head."Let's wait.Watch how he interacts with the group.Body language, confidence level, how he handles questions.All of it tells us something."
A middle-aged woman in the front row raised her hand."Could you explain more about how these plants are used in actual ceremonies?I'm writing a book about Native American healing practices."
Tso's smile remained in place, but Kari noticed a subtle shift in his posture—a slight straightening of his spine, a momentary pause before answering."The general principles are what I share in these tours.The specific ceremonial applications are preserved for those who have earned the right to that knowledge through proper cultural channels."
"But surely you could share just a little more detail?"the woman pressed."For educational purposes?"
"I understand your curiosity," Tso replied, his tone warm but firm."But imagine if I asked for your personal banking information for 'educational purposes.'Some knowledge belongs to those who need it, not to those who merely want to know it."
The group chuckled, the tension broken.Kari watched as another tourist, a college-aged man with an expensive camera, pointed toward the white prairie aster.
"Where exactly do you find that flower?I'd love to photograph it in its natural environment."
