"Hard to tell," Ben said, surveying the room."Signs point to a struggle, but they're not conclusive.Could be she left in a hurry, knocked things over in her haste."
"By where would she go on foot?"
The sound of approaching vehicles announced the arrival of the patrol units.Kari moved to the doorway, watching as two tribal police cruisers pulled in behind her Jeep, their headlights illuminating the yard in harsh white light.
"We need a full evidence team here," she told the first officer through the door."Process everything—fingerprints, fibers, everything."
As the officers began securing the scene, Kari stepped outside, needing a moment to process the rising fear in her chest.Ruth was missing.The fifth victim in the original murder sequence had been found at the Chee family's former hogan—likely a substitute for Ruth herself.And now, as the pattern repeated, Ruth had been taken—or had fled.
Either way, she was in danger.
"Kari," Ben called from inside."You need to see this."
She returned to find him in Ruth's small bedroom, pointing to something on the nightstand.A single white prairie aster flower lay atop a folded piece of paper.
"The same flower used in the herb bundles placed in the victims' mouths," Ben said quietly.
With gloved hands, Kari carefully unfolded the paper.Written in what appeared to be Ruth's shaky handwriting was a single line:
Where it began.Where it must end.
"What does that mean?"Ben asked, looking over her shoulder.
"I don't know," Kari admitted."But we need those translations from Silver.They might help us decipher this."
She pulled out her phone and dialed David Silver's number.The call went straight to voicemail.She tried again with the same result.
"No answer," she said, frustrated.
"I'll call Daniels," Ben said, "get the FBI involved in the search for Ruth.Their resources could make the difference."He stepped away, already dialing.
Kari stared at the white flower and the cryptic note, her mind racing through possibilities.Where it began.Where it must end.Was Ruth referring to a location?To the original murders?To something only she would understand?
Whatever the message meant, Kari couldn't just sit around.She needed to do something, and her best lead involved Remy Silver's journals.Maybe David hadn't finished with them, but even if he only had a few pages done, there was no telling what those pages might reveal.
"Ben," she called, interrupting his conversation with Daniels."I'm going to Silver's house."
Ben covered the phone with his hand."I should come with you."
"No," Kari said firmly."We need you coordinating the search for Ruth from here.You know the terrain, the possible routes.I'll handle Silver."
Ben hesitated, clearly torn between accompanying his partner and recognizing the logic of her argument."Fine," he said finally."But check in every thirty minutes.If I don't hear from you, I'm sending backup."
"Agreed," Kari said, already moving toward the door."Text me Silver's home address."
As she climbed back into her Jeep, Kari felt the familiar weight of the medicine pouch around her neck—the one that had belonged to her grandfather, which Ruth had given her with such unusual sentimentality.Had Ruth known then what might happen?Had she been preparing Kari to follow this path?
The drive to Silver's residence took twenty-five minutes, the roads darkening as night fully descended across the reservation.The councilman lived in a secluded area—not remote by reservation standards, but private, with no immediate neighbors.His house was a modern adaptation of traditional design, its clean lines visible in the moonlight as Kari approached.
No lights shone from within the structure.No vehicle was visible in the driveway or the carport attached to one side of the house.If Silver was home, he was sitting in darkness.
Kari parked her Jeep and hurried to the front of the house.
"Councilman Silver?"she called, knocking firmly on the front door."It's Detective Blackhorse.We need to talk."
No response came from within.Kari tried the doorknob and found it locked.
She walked the perimeter of the house, checking windows.All secured, curtains drawn.Her growing sense of urgency battled with her training.Breaking into a tribal councilman's home without a warrant would have serious repercussions—but if Ruth's life was in danger, those concerns became secondary.
