But the victims were.Patricia and Robert deserved justice, regardless of the political complications.
Before Kari could respond, Polacca's phone buzzed.She glanced at the screen, then stood."I need to take this.Be right back."
She walked toward the entrance, phone pressed to her ear, leaving Kari alone in the booth with the remnants of dinner and her own thoughts.
Kari pulled out her own phone and scrolled to her father's number.It was late, but not too late, and she wanted to know if he'd found anything in those seventeen case files.She hit dial.
James answered on the third ring."Kari.How's the investigation going?"
"Slowly.Two victims now, both connected to a genealogical research project.I'm trying to get access to the data, but it's locked behind privacy concerns and password protection."She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of the long day."Did you find anything in those files?"
"I'm still going through them.It's slow work—a lot of the documentation is incomplete, and I'm trying to cross-reference with other cases that might not have made it into the federal system."He paused."But I am seeing patterns.Deaths at ceremonial sites, explanations that lean heavily on cultural factors.Some of these seem to deliberately steer away from criminal explanations."
"Possibly making murders look like accidents."
"Possibly."He sighed."Kari, this is going to take time.These are old cases, scattered records, and I'm essentially doing this on my own time without official authorization."
"I know.And I appreciate it, Dad.More than you know."
They talked for a few more minutes, Kari filling him in on the Hopi investigation, James sharing a few more details from the files.When they hung up, Kari felt simultaneously encouraged and frustrated that the answers remained just out of reach.
Polacca returned to the table, sliding back into the booth.Her expression showed something that might have been satisfaction.
"That was David Lomatuway'ma from the Cultural Center," Polacca said."He called because he's been thinking about the crime scenes, about who might have the knowledge to create those arrangements.He suggested we talk to Dr.Michael Sekaquaptewa."
"Who's that?"
"Archaeologist and museum curator.Works at the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office.He's one of the top experts on burial practices and ceremonial traditions—has probably visited more ancient sites than anyone else in the tribe."Polacca pulled out her phone and showed Kari a contact entry."David says if anyone can tell us whether the crime scene arrangements are authentic or if there are errors that might point us toward a suspect, it's Michael."
"Would he be willing to talk to us?It's past nine."
"I called him while I was outside.He says he's willing to meet tonight if it helps the investigation.He's at his office now, working late on a grant proposal."Polacca pocketed her phone."We should go."
Kari signaled for the check, and within minutes, they were back in Polacca's vehicle, heading toward the Cultural Preservation Office.As they drove through the dark, Kari found herself reassessing Polacca.The officer was still reserved, still careful about what she shared, but something had shifted.The wall between them wasn't gone, but it had developed a few cracks.
"Thank you," Kari said."For following up on David's suggestion.For helping move this forward."
Polacca kept her eyes on the road."I'm doing my job."
"You're doing more than that.You could have just gone through the motions, done the bare minimum the chief ordered.But you're actually investigating."
"Two people from my community are dead," Polacca said quietly."That matters more than whatever complicated feelings I have about working with a Navajo detective."
It wasn't exactly a declaration of partnership, but it was honest.And right now, Kari would take honest over polite any day.
The Cultural Preservation Office was in a separate building from the main Cultural Center, a newer structure designed to house archives and artifacts that required climate-controlled storage.Only one vehicle sat in the parking lot—a well-maintained SUV that probably belonged to Dr.Sekaquaptewa.
They entered through the unlocked front door and found a man in his early sixties waiting for them in a small conference room.Dr.Michael Sekaquaptewa was trim and scholarly-looking, with silver-streaked hair and intelligent eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.He wore casual clothing—jeans and a button-down shirt—but carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who had spent decades mastering his field.
"Officer Polacca," he said, standing to shake her hand."Thank you for coming.And you must be Detective Blackhorse."
"Thank you for meeting with us so late, Dr.Sekaquaptewa," Kari said.
"Please, call me Michael.And it's no trouble.What's happening to our sacred sites is unconscionable."He gestured for them to sit, then settled into his own chair with a heavy sigh."Two murders.Both at ancient burial sites.Who would do such a thing?"
"That's what we need your help figuring out," Kari said."The arrangements—are they authentic?Do they follow proper burial traditions?"
Michael nodded slowly."I reviewed the photographs the chief shared with me earlier.The arrangements are disturbingly accurate.Whoever created those scenes has deep knowledge of our burial practices—not just the basic orientation and positioning, but subtle details that most people wouldn't know.The placement of artifacts at specific cardinal points, the way the hands are positioned, even the choice of which pottery shards to use based on their age and origin."
