"But he must have talked about the cases," Kari pressed."About what he discovered, what he suspected."
"Joseph spoke very little about his work," Ruth said."But he carried its weight visibly.Each death hollowed him further, until I began to fear I was losing him even while he sat beside me."She added another herb bundle to the flames, watching it burn."When the fifth victim was found, he did not come home for three days.When he returned, he burned his clothes and stood in the smoke of cedar and sage until dawn."
Kari leaned forward."What was he afraid of?What had he found?"
"I did not ask," Ruth said."Some questions invite darkness rather than dispel it."
Frustration flared in Kari."People are dying, Shimásání.In exactly the same way as fifty years ago.If we don't stop this pattern, three more victims will follow."
"Which is why I told you to step away from this case," Ruth said, her voice hardening."This is not your burden to carry."
"It is now," Kari insisted."I need to know what Grandfather discovered.I need to understand what we're facing."
Ruth was silent for a long moment, the fire crackling between them.Finally, she sighed—a sound so uncharacteristic that it startled Kari more than her grandmother's words.
"I knew one of them," Ruth said quietly.
"One of the victims?"
Ruth nodded, still not meeting Kari's gaze."Anna Yellowhair, the fourth victim.She was found near Blue Canyon.She was my friend."
This was new information—a personal connection Kari hadn't anticipated."You never mentioned this before."
"Some pain is too private to speak aloud," Ruth said."Laura was helping me gather healing plants when she met a professor studying traditional medicine.She became his research assistant, helping to document plants and their uses."Her voice grew tighter."She was found with those same plants in her mouth, arranged in the ceremonial way."
"I need to know about the killer," Kari said gently."Who did Grandfather suspect?What did he learn that made him keep separate records?"
Ruth's face hardened into the impassive mask she often wore when refusing to discuss certain topics."Some evil should not be named or remembered.Speaking of it only gives it strength, draws its attention."
"But if we know who—"
"It is not awho," Ruth interrupted sharply."Not in the way you think."
The statement hung between them, laden with implications Kari wasn't prepared to parse.Before she could press further, her phone vibrated with an incoming message.She glanced at the screen to see Ben's name.
Heading over to Whipple Creek to join the stakeout.Join me?
Kari looked up to find Ruth watching her with an expression that might have been resignation.
"You're going to the next site," Ruth said.Not a question.
"Whipple Creek," Kari said, rising to her feet."If the killer is following the original pattern, that's where the third murder will occur."
"Like Joseph," Ruth murmured."Always running toward danger rather than away."
The comparison startled Kari."I'm doing my job."
"He said the same."Ruth slowly stood, her joints protesting audibly.She moved to a small wooden box on the mantelpiece, removing something wrapped in soft cloth."Take this with you."
Kari accepted the bundle, unwrapping it to reveal a small medicine pouch similar to the one she already wore, but older, the leather darkened with age and handling.
"Joseph carried this during the original investigation," Ruth said."He said it helped him see more clearly when shadows tried to deceive his eyes."
The unexpected gift—and the fact that Ruth had kept this connection to her late husband for fifty years—moved Kari deeply."Shimásání, I—"
"No more questions tonight," Ruth said."But I will tell you this: what you seek is not in any notes or files.Joseph did not write down what he found at the end.He could not bring himself to make those words exist in the world."
"Then how am I supposed to—"
