She needed to go.But first, she had to take care of something.
"I think I'm going to go join Officer Polacca," she said, rising."But I appreciate your time."
"Absolutely," David said with an apologetic smile."I wish it had been more… productive."
"We'll get him, one way or the other."Kari glanced toward the hall."Mind if I use your bathroom before I go?"
"Of course.It's down the hallway, second door on the left."
"Thanks."
Kari walked to the archway leading to the kitchen, looking at the tidy space—clean counters, dishes drying in the rack, everything in its place.David lived alone, that much was clear.The house had the organized feel of a single person's domain, everything arranged according to one person's preferences.
There were four doors in the hallway.On the right, what appeared to be a closet.At the end, the garage.And on the left, a bedroom and a bathroom.
As she approached the bathroom door, her eye caught on the family photographs on the walls.David at various tribal ceremonies.David receiving awards.David with the elderly woman from the photo on his phone—his aunt, presumably, in happier, healthier times.
She reached the door and entered.The bathroom was as neat as the rest of the house.Clean tiles, organized counter, everything in its place.She took care of her business, washed her hands, dried them on a hand towel, and was about to leave when her gaze fell on the inhaler sitting next to the soap dispenser.
Standard asthma inhaler.Albuterol, the label said.She'd seen dozens of them over the years—her partner in Phoenix had carried one, half the school kids she'd known growing up had them.
Common.Unremarkable.
But something troubled her.Something she couldn't put her finger on.
She stepped out of the bathroom and turned right.She heard a murmuring sound coming from the bedroom.David was on the phone, by the sound of it.
She thought of just leaving, but instead she found herself looking in the opposite direction, at the garage door.There was a window in it, and through that window she could see the shape of a vehicle beneath a tarp.
Kari's hand was on the door before she'd made a conscious decision.She eased it open, wincing at the creak of the hinges.
The space was dim, lit only by a small window high on the far wall.She could make out workbenches along one side, tools hanging from pegboard, boxes stacked in corners.And the vehicle she'd noticed before.
All perfectly normal.People kept vehicles in garages.People covered them with tarps to protect them from dust.
And yet…
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.She flinched, her hand instinctively going to the device.She pulled it out, saw Polacca's name on the screen.
A text message:Martin gave explanation for DNA on knife.Says he loans hunting knives to tribe members for ceremonies.This one went to someone 3 months ago, never returned.His DNA from handling it.Story checks out - has records.
Kari stared at the message, not particularly surprised at the news.She wasn't particularly disappointed, either.
She moved toward the covered vehicle, her footsteps quiet on the concrete floor.She grabbed the edge of the tarp and, before she could second-guess the decision, she pulled it back.
The paint underneath was dark blue, almost black in the dim light.She pulled more of the tarp away, revealing the front end of a Ford Explorer.Dark blue.Newer model.Clean, well-maintained.
She moved around to the back of the vehicle, pulling the rest of the tarp away.No damage visible.No distinctive marks.Just a dark blue Explorer that could be one of hundreds on the reservation.
Except that this one had a jug of acetone on the passenger seat.
She heard it then—a soft sound behind her.The quiet creak of a door.The subtle shift of weight on the concrete floor.
Kari spun around, her hand going instinctively toward her weapon.
David stood in the garage entrance, silhouetted against the light from the hallway.He flipped the lights on, nearly blinding Kari."You get lost, detective?"
"No," she said quietly, "I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be."
