"Anna flagged this case with more notes and cross-references than any of the others," James continued. "She interviewed Evan's family, visited the areas where he used to explore, and found something that troubled her deeply."
He pulled out several pages of Anna's handwritten notes, her familiar script filling the margins with questions and observations. One phrase was circled multiple times: Corporate purchase price 400% above market value. Why? What did Evan find?
"Evan was studying geology," James explained. "He'd take weekend trips to remote areas, documenting rock formations, cave systems, anything geologically interesting. According to his sister, he'd been particularly excited about an area near the eastern edge of the reservation—land that technically belonged to the tribe but was largely unused."
"And?"
"Three weeks after Evan disappeared, that land was sold to a corporate entity called Devco Holdings. The purchase price was roughly four times what similar parcels in the area had sold for." James pulled out the sales documents. "Anna tried to find out who was behind Devco Holdings, but it's a shell companywith layers of corporate ownership. She hit walls everywhere she looked."
Kari studied the sales records, noting the dates, the amounts, the signatures on the paperwork. "You're saying Evan discovered something on that land that made it valuable. Valuable enough to kill for?"
"I'm saying it's suspicious. The timing, the price, the fact that Devco Holdings immediately restricted all access to the area—putting up fences, posting security, threatening trespassers with prosecution." James leaned back in his chair. "Most companies that buy tribal land for development are at least somewhat transparent about their plans. Mining operations, renewable energy projects, whatever. But Devco never announced any development plans. They just locked down the area and kept everyone out."
"What did Evan's family think?"
"His sister told Anna she found it strange. She said Evan had mentioned finding something interesting in his last phone call home—something about unusual geological formations that might indicate mineral deposits or underground water. But he wanted to document everything properly before saying more." James's expression darkened. "That was the last time anyone heard from him."
Kari turned to Anna's notes, reading her mother's careful documentation of dates and details. One note caught her attention: Evan's camera never recovered. If found, would show what he discovered.
"The camera," Kari said. "Is it still missing?"
James nodded. "Search teams covered the area where Evan was last seen, but they never found his camera, his field notes, or any of his equipment." James pulled out the search and rescue reports. "They found his truck parked at a trailhead, locked and undamaged. His wallet and phone were inside—he'd leftthem there, which wasn't unusual for his solo expeditions. But everything else he would have carried was gone."
"Someone took it. After he was already dead."
"That would be my assessment, yes." James's voice was clinical now, falling into the analytical mode that had served him well at the Bureau. "Evan discovers something on that land—something significant enough that Devco Holdings pays an enormous premium to acquire the property quickly. Evan disappears before he can report his findings or share his documentation. The land is immediately locked down. It's not proof, but it's a compelling circumstantial case."
Kari sat back, processing the information. Fifteen years was a long time. Evidence degraded, memories faded, people moved on. If Evan Naalnish had been murdered and his body hidden, proving it now would be nearly impossible.
"Why didn't the tribal police investigate this more thoroughly?" she asked.
"They did, initially. But without a body, without evidence of foul play, and with Evan's history of solo wilderness trips, the case got classified as an adult who went missing voluntarily or died in a remote area where his remains haven't been recovered." James shuffled through more papers. "Anna thought the investigation was shut down too quickly. She found evidence of outside pressure—phone calls from Devco Holdings' lawyers, complaints about the tribal police 'harassing' their property, threats of litigation if officers continued accessing the restricted area."
"They scared them off."
"More or less." James looked at her steadily. "Anna believed that if she could prove what happened to Evan—if she could find his body, recover his documentation, establish that he was murdered—it would validate her entire investigation. It wouldprove that the pattern she'd identified was real, that people were being killed to protect corporate interests."
"And then she died before she could prove anything."
"Yes."
Kari thought about her mother, about Anna's methodical nature, her commitment to documentation and evidence. She thought about the seventeen cases in these folders, seventeen people whose deaths had been explained away as accidents or natural causes, whose stories had been closed before anyone looked too closely at the inconsistencies.
"I don't know how to investigate this," Kari admitted. "Evan's case is fifteen years old. The land is privately owned now, locked down tight. Even if I could prove something happened to him, I'd need to establish jurisdiction, get warrants, fight corporate lawyers with deeper pockets than the entire Navajo Nation Police Department budget."
"I know." James pulled out a thumb drive. "That's why Anna struggled with it too. She had suspicions, questions, patterns—but turning those into actionable evidence was nearly impossible. I've digitized everything—scans of all the documents, my analysis notes, the connections I've mapped. It's all here."
Kari took the drive, closing her fingers around it. Such a small thing, this piece of plastic and circuitry. But it contained her mother's life's work, the evidence of a pattern that might have gotten Anna killed.
"Thank you," she said. "For taking this seriously. For not dismissing it as Mom being obsessed or paranoid."
"I did dismiss it," James admitted. "For a long time, I thought Anna was seeing conspiracies where there were just coincidences. But I was wrong." His voice carried the weight of regret. "She was brilliant, Kari. She saw things I couldn't see,made connections I would have missed. I should have listened to her while she was alive."
"We both should have." Kari gathered the folders, tucking them under her arm along with the thumb drive. "I need to go. Process all this, figure out what to do next."
"Be careful." James stood, moving around the desk. His hand reached out to briefly touch her shoulder. "If Anna was right about these deaths being connected, if someone really is silencing indigenous people who threaten corporate interests, then investigating this makes you a target too."
"I know."
