Lomayesva was quiet for a long moment, his gaze drifting to the window that looked out over the parking lot and, beyond it, to the mesas that held the ancient villages of his people.When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with a burden Kari could only guess at.
"Words won't do it justice," he said."And honestly, I'm not sure I have the right words anyway.This is something you need to see."He stood and reached for his keys."I'll take you to the site myself.It's about twenty minutes from here."
Kari rose as well."Should I get Detective Tsosie?"
"Not yet.Let me show you first.Then you can decide if you need him."Lomayesva moved toward the door, then paused and turned back to her."Detective Blackhorse, I need to prepare you.What you're about to see...it's disturbing.Not just because of the violence, but because of what it means.What it represents."
"I've seen crime scenes before, Chief."
He shrugged."Okay, then," he said, in a tone of voice that suggested Kari wasn't as prepared as she thought she was.
He opened the door and led Kari back down the hallway.They passed Ben, who looked up questioningly.Kari gave him a slight nod—Stay here, I'll be back—and he settled back in his chair with the patience of someone who had spent fourteen years learning when to wait and when to act.
Outside, the April afternoon was bright and clear.Lomayesva led her to his marked unit, and they got in, Kari in the passenger seat.As they pulled out of the parking lot, she noticed the chief's hands were tight on the steering wheel, his jaw set.
They drove in silence for several minutes, heading toward the mesas.The landscape was beautiful in its starkness—red earth, scattered vegetation, the layered rock formations that held centuries of history in their strata.But Kari felt none of the usual appreciation for the scenery.Her attention was focused entirely on trying to read Lomayesva's body language, trying to anticipate what could have shaken a seasoned police chief so badly that he would reach across tribal boundaries for help.
"How long have you been chief?"she asked, partly to break the tension and partly because she genuinely wanted to know.
"Twelve years.Started as a patrol officer right out of the army, worked my way up."He glanced at her briefly."I know you came back to the Navajo Nation after time with Phoenix PD.That's a different kind of transition than most officers make."
"It is.But it was necessary."
"Because of your mother?"
The question surprised her."You know about that?"
"I did my research before I called.I hear you weren't satisfied that her death was ruled accidental."His tone wasn't judgmental, just stating facts."I understand the need to question official explanations.Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one.And sometimes it's the easiest answer, which isn't the same thing."
Kari studied his profile."Is that what's happening here?The easiest answer isn't the right one?"
"I don't know yet.That's why I need you."He turned off the main road onto a dirt track that led toward a cluster of rock formations."There's going to be official pressure to explain this in certain ways.Cultural ways.Traditional explanations that make people comfortable because they fit within our understanding of the world."
"But you don't think those explanations are right?"
"I think..."Lomayesva slowed the vehicle as they approached a section marked with police tape."I think someone wants us to believe a certain story.And I need someone who isn't invested in believing that story to tell me if it's true."
He parked the vehicle and turned off the engine.Through the windshield, Kari could see the yellow police tape fluttering in the breeze, marking off an area near a formation of red rocks.The site looked ancient, undisturbed except for the modern intrusion of law enforcement.
"Before we get out," Lomayesva said, his hand still on the keys, "I need to ask you something.When you worked that case in January, the one with the ceremony murders, how did you separate the cultural elements from the criminal ones?How did you know what was sacred practice and what was manipulation?"
Kari paused, thinking."I listened to the people who actually practiced the traditions," she said."I asked them what was right and what was wrong.What felt authentic and what felt like a corruption."
"And if the people you ask are too afraid to tell you the truth?Or if they don't want to see the corruption because acknowledging it would mean acknowledging that someone they know, someone they trust, could be capable of such a thing?"
"Then I look at the evidence.Physical evidence doesn't have cultural bias.It just is."
Lomayesva nodded slowly, seeming to find some reassurance in her answer.He opened his door and stepped out, and Kari followed.The air smelled of sage and something else—something that made her instincts sharpen.It was faint, but unmistakable to anyone who had worked enough crime scenes.
Death.
CHAPTER FOUR
They approached the police tape, and Lomayesva ducked under it, holding it up for Kari to follow.The ground beyond was rocky and uneven, requiring careful footing.Kari's eyes swept the area automatically, cataloging details the way she'd been trained: disturbed earth, footprints, the placement of evidence markers.
As they rounded a natural formation of red sandstone, the full crime scene came into view.
Kari stopped, her breath catching.
