"Yes."Polacca stopped at the top of the stairwell."He knows more about our burial practices, our ceremonial sites, our traditions than almost anyone.If someone is using that knowledge to commit crimes, David would be able to see it."
They descended the stairs in silence.When they reached the main level, Kari tried to open a different kind of conversation."What do you make of what we have so far?"
Polacca pushed through the front doors into the afternoon sunlight."I'm not sure I understand the question."
"The arrangement of the body.The choice of that specific burial site.The timing.The fact that Patricia was working on a controversial community presentation."Kari followed her toward the parking lot."What's the connection?Did someone want to stop her from sharing whatever she'd discovered?"
"Maybe."Polacca's tone was noncommittal.
"You know this community, you understand the cultural context.What's your read on the situation?"
Polacca stopped at her vehicle and turned to face Kari."My read is that you're the detective.The chief brought you in to figure this out.So figure it out."
The words weren't hostile, exactly, but they were a clear boundary.Polacca wasn't going to be a sounding board, wasn't going to engage in the kind of collaborative theorizing that Kari was used to with Ben.She would provide the minimum assistance required, answer direct questions when pressed, but nothing more.
"Ever heard the phrase, 'two heads are better than one?'"
Polacca gazed at her levelly, saying nothing.Might as well talk to a brick wall.
"Okay," Kari said, swallowing her frustration."You said Patricia worked from home on certain days?"
Polacca nodded."She had an office there."
"I'd like to see it."
"You're the boss."
They got into the vehicle, and Polacca started the engine.As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kari stared out the window at the Cultural Center receding behind them.She thought about David's openness, about the others' hostility, about Polacca's impenetrable reserve.
This was going to be harder than she'd anticipated.She'd known there would be cultural barriers, historical tensions, and resistance to outside involvement.But knowing it intellectually and experiencing it practically were two different things.Every interview felt like pushing through mud.Every question was weighted with unspoken history.
And Polacca, who was supposed to be her guide through this minefield, seemed content to let her stumble.
"Can I ask you something?"Kari said as they drove.
"Go ahead."
"Why do you think the chief assigned you to work with me?Specifically, you, I mean."
Polacca was quiet for a moment, her eyes on the road."Because I follow orders."
The answer didn't satisfy Kari.Everyone in the department followed orders—they wouldn't have kept their jobs otherwise.
"That's not much of an answer," Kari said.
Polacca sighed."What can I say?I've never been much of a conversationalist."
"Understatement of the year," Kari muttered as she turned back to the window.
CHAPTER SIX
James Koyiyumptewa stood at his kitchen window, watching his daughter's car disappear down the dirt road in a cloud of dust.His coffee had gone cold in his hand, but he didn't move to refill it.The argument still echoed in the small house, harsh words that couldn't be taken back hanging in the air like smoke.
"You're suffocating me, Dad."
Irene was seventeen.Old enough to think she knew everything, young enough that she actually knew very little.But she'd said it with such conviction, such certainty, that James had felt the words like a physical blow.
"I just want you to be safe."
