"Could someone learn that from books?From academic sources?"
"Some of it, yes.But much of what I saw in those photographs represents knowledge that's traditionally held within specific families, passed down through generations.It's not widely published because we've been protective of that information."Michael's expression was troubled."Which makes this violation even more disturbing.Someone with inside knowledge is using it to commit murder."
"Who else would have that level of knowledge?"Polacca asked.
"Cultural preservation officers would have access through their work documenting and protecting sites.Certain craftsmen who create ceremonial items would need to understand traditional practices.Museum curators like myself.Archaeologists who've worked on the reservation."Michael paused."And elders who've been trained in traditional ways, though most of them would never share such knowledge with outsiders."
Kari leaned forward."What about someone with knowledge of both Hopi and Navajo burial practices?Someone who could incorporate elements from both traditions?"
Michael's eyes sharpened."That's an interesting question.Why do you ask?"
"Because I noticed some elements at the crime scenes that seemed to draw from Navajo ceremonial traditions, though not always accurately.Like whoever created the scene knew both traditions but was slightly off in the execution of the Navajo elements."
Michael was quiet for a moment, his fingers steepled in front of his face."That would be unusual.Very unusual.Our burial practices, while they may share some broad similarities with neighboring tribes, are quite distinct in the details.You might be looking for someone of mixed heritage who had the privilege of learning from both sides of their family.Or perhaps an academic who specialized in comparative studies of Southwestern burial practices."
"How many people like that would exist?"
"Not many.Mixed heritage isn't uncommon, but access to detailed ceremonial knowledge from both traditions?That's rare.Many families keep such information closely guarded, especially when it comes to sacred practices involving death and burial."He paused."Historically, there was more fluidity between tribes.People married across boundaries, families had connections.But modern enrollment rules and tribal politics have created more rigid divisions.Then again, the person responsible for these crimes might be older, someone who learned before those divisions became so pronounced."
"Or someone who studied extensively?"Kari pressed.
"Possible, but difficult.Most published sources on burial practices are either vague or deliberately incomplete to protect sacred knowledge.You'd need access to restricted sites, relationships with knowledgeable elders, years of study.It's not the kind of expertise you gain casually."
As the conversation wound down, Kari found herself watching Michael more carefully.He had the knowledge.He had access to sites.He could explain every detail of what the killer had done.And while his distress seemed genuine, Kari had learned long ago that intelligent killers were often the best performers.
"Dr.Sekaquaptewa," she said carefully, "can I ask where you were last night?After, say, six o'clock?"
Michael's eyebrows rose, and she saw the moment of recognition—he understood he was being asked for an alibi.To his credit, he didn't seem offended.
"I was in Santa Fe, actually.There's an annual conference on Southwest archaeology that I attend every year.I gave a presentation on recent excavation protocols that afternoon, then had dinner with colleagues."He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calendar."I can provide you with hotel records, conference attendance logs.I didn't return home until this afternoon."
Kari made notes of the names and details.If his alibi checked out—and she suspected it would—then Michael was just what he appeared to be: a knowledgeable expert trying to help, not a suspect.
They thanked him for his time and left.As they walked back to Polacca's vehicle, Kari glanced back at the building and saw Michael standing at the window, watching them go.
"What do you think?"Polacca asked as they got in the vehicle.
"I think his alibi will check out.He's too smart to offer one that could be easily disproven.But it doesn't hurt to verify."
"I can call his colleagues in the morning, confirm they were together last night."
As Polacca drove back toward the police station, Kari processed what Michael had told them.The killer had authentic knowledge, possibly of multiple traditions.They had access to restricted sites and sacred information.They were using cultural expertise to stage elaborate murders.
But who?And more importantly—why?
The computer password was still their best shot at answers.Everything kept circling back to Patricia's genealogical research, to discoveries that someone was willing to kill to keep hidden.
Kari's phone buzzed.Lucas Saufkie.
"Detective?I'm in.Took me three hours and some creative programming, but I cracked Patricia's password.You're going to want to see this."
CHAPTER TEN
They arrived at the police station to find Lucas still at his workstation, the computer screen casting a blue glow across his face.He looked simultaneously exhausted and triumphant, the expression of someone who had just won a difficult battle.
"You got in?"Kari asked, moving to stand behind him.
"Finally.She used a passphrase instead of a password—fourteen characters, mix of words and numbers.Took some brute force algorithms and educated guessing about what might be significant to her."
