"I had tea on the coffee table—chamomile, still hot.I grabbed it and threw it in his face.The liquid, I mean.All of it."A ghost of satisfaction crossed Emma's features."He screamed and dropped the knife.I ran for the front door."
Kari watched Emma, waiting for her to continue.
"I got to the door," Emma went on after a moment, "but couldn't get the lock open—my hands were shaking too badly.I could hear him coming down the hall behind me, that breathing getting closer.Then suddenly he was right there, his hand on the door next to my head."Emma's voice was barely a whisper now."I thought I was dead."
Kari leaned forward."But you're here.What happened?"
"I still had my phone in my other hand.I just...I swung around and hit him with it.As hard as I could.Aimed for his face."Emma's eyes were distant, replaying the moment."I felt it connect, heard him make this sound—pain, anger, I don't know.But it gave me enough time to get the lock turned.I got the door open and ran."
"Did he chase you?"
"At first.I could hear footsteps behind me.But then..."Emma's brow furrowed."Then he stopped.I kept running—I didn't stop until I got to my neighbors' house two doors down.But when I looked back, he wasn't behind me anymore.Probably got spooked that someone would see him."
"Tell me more about the breathing," Kari said."You mentioned it sounded strange."
"It was fast.Really fast, like they were agitated or excited."
"Like wheezing?"
"Maybe.I don't know.It all happened so fast, and I was so scared.I'm sorry I can't be more specific."
"You're doing fine," Polacca said."What about height and build?Can you estimate?"
"Medium height, I think.Not particularly tall or short.Average build.The dark clothes made it hard to tell much else."Emma's voice grew more strained."I know that's not helpful.I know you need more than that.But between the mask and the lighting and my own panic, I just didn't see much."
If nothing else, the attacker was likely to have burns on his face, possibly elsewhere as well.That would make it easy to identify him.
Kari asked the question she'd been building toward."Ms.Talayesva, about the files Patricia gave you.After everything that happened tonight, after being attacked by someone willing to kill to keep that information secret—will you share it with us?"
The question hung in the air between them.Emma looked down at her tea, her expression conflicted.The silence stretched long enough that Kari thought she might refuse again, might cite the council's directive even after nearly dying for it.
"I don't know," Emma said finally."I need time to think.To process what happened.To figure out what the right thing to do is."She looked up, and Kari saw anguish in her eyes."The council ordered me not to share it.I have ethical obligations to the families who participated.But two people are dead, and someone just tried to kill me.I don't...I don't know what the right answer is anymore."
"How much time do you need?"Kari asked, trying not to rush her, even though time was of the essence.
"I don't know that either.Ask me tomorrow.I'm going to stay with my sister in Flagstaff for a while, get away from here, clear my head."Emma's hands were shaking again."I promise I'll think about it seriously.I promise I won't just dismiss what you're asking.But I need time."
It wasn't the answer Kari wanted, but it was better than an outright refusal.And pushing harder tonight, when Emma was traumatized and exhausted, would only drive her further away.
"Okay," Kari said."Take the time you need.But please, think about this—whoever attacked you tonight, they've already killed two people.They will kill again if they think someone else knows what Patricia discovered.The only way to stop them is to understand what they're protecting."
"I know," Emma whispered."Believe me, I know."
Chief Lomayesva arranged for officers to escort Emma to her sister's house in Flagstaff that night, along with her laptop and whatever belongings she needed.By midnight, she was gone, and Kari and Polacca stood in the station parking lot, both too wired to sleep despite the late hour.
"The mask," Polacca said, breaking the silence."Using a Hopi ceremonial mask to commit a crime—that's not just about hiding identity.That's making a statement."
"About what?"
"About belonging.About understanding.About being part of the culture."Polacca's voice was thoughtful."Someone outside the community wouldn't think to use a ceremonial mask.They'd use a ski mask, a bandana, or just darkness.But a Hopi mask?That's someone who knows what those masks mean, who has access to them, who sees themselves as part of this world."
"We need to track that mask," Kari said."Find out where it came from.Who owns ceremonial masks, if any have been reported stolen, who would have access."
Polacca nodded slowly."That's going to be complicated.Ceremonial masks are...sensitive.Many families have them, passed down through generations.They're not registered or tracked officially—that would go against the whole point of them being sacred objects."
"But someone would know if one went missing.Someone would notice."
"Maybe.If it was stolen from a family's collection, yes.But if someone made their own mask, or if it's an older one that's been in storage..."Polacca's expression was troubled."And Jake Honanie is one of the people who makes ceremonial items.He'd have the knowledge and materials to create a mask."
