Authors: David Thurlo
“Body size,” Ralph added, coming up with more markers.
“At least it’s on our side of the county line. Let’s get
the tools.”
As her team came over, she could sense their uneasiness. The possibility of mass graves could make even the staunchest Modernist edgy. Few Navajos willingly entered an area the
chindi
had claimed, but duty bound them now. They’d each battle their own demons and do what had to be done.
THREE
The second grave was nearly a foot deeper than the first, but after an hour of slow, careful work another body was uncovered. At a glance, they could see this victim had been laid to rest far longer. Only a few traces of hair were left on the corpse, along with some dried sinews of muscle. As before, there were two holes in the back of the skull.
Two San Juan County officers, one of them
Justine’s roommate, Sergeant Emily Marquez, arrived on the scene, having come from the east down Highway 64. Accompanying Emily was a fit-looking thirtyish Navajo county plainclothes officer in slacks and a SJCSD jacket. Emily introduced him as Detective Dan Nez.
Nez gave Ella a nod, but didn’t offer to shake hands out of respect for Navajo customs.
Ella filled them in, pointing to the staked-out
rectangle on the county side, and identifying it as a potential grave. As she spoke, Ella also studied the county’s new detective. He was tall, with classic Navajo high cheekbones. His features were too angular to be described as handsome, yet he had a certain presence about him. His hair was a little longer than most of the other male deputies, black and wavy rather than the army-recruit look
so popular today, and maybe that was what made him distinctive. An inch shorter than her, Nez was still above average height for a Navajo. He was also less chunky—with a runner’s build, not that of a barrel-chested wrestler like, for instance, Joe Neskahi.
“Any news on the ground-penetrating radar Chief Atcitty requested?” Ella asked, looking back and forth between the two county people.
“It’s
on its way, along with our techs, but I’ve got some bad news, too,” Emily said. “The press picked up on the story and they’re right behind us.”
Ella looked toward the east and spotted two vans topped with satellite dishes approaching from Farmington. The vehicles slowed, then turned off the main highway farther east. “We’ll have to keep the reporters back. We’re no longer certain of the perimeter
boundary, so we need to avoid contaminating the scene.”
“I’ll find another route that leads directly into the county side, then instruct our crime scene van to join us over there,” Emily said, then turning to Nez, added, “You’re okay with that?”
“Yeah, Sergeant. I’ll grab my camera and get started in the meantime,” Nez said.
Ella knew that, though Emily technically outranked him, they worked
in different divisions and this was his area of expertise.
As Emily drove away, Nez climbed over the fence at the closest post, then put on two sets of gloves before going any farther.
After Ella ordered Ralph Tache to keep the press back until more officers arrived, she took over his work helping Justine and Joe screen the debris from the first grave. As she worked, she looked over at Nez,
wondering if he was a New Traditionalist or a Modernist. The very fact that he’d opted for two layers with his gloves didn’t say much one way or another. Avoiding contact with anything that might have touched the dead was a common practice for most Navajos.
Dwayne Blalock pulled up next, on the tribe’s side, and that brought Ella out of her musings. The seasoned FBI agent left his four-wheel-drive
SUV well outside the crime scene and approached on foot. These days Dwayne seemed much more relaxed about everything. It undoubtedly had something to do with the fact that he and his ex-wife were back together again.
Ella left her work and gave him a quick rundown as they stood beside the grave of the second victim. Several feet away, Justine and Neskahi continued screening dirt.
“I knew something
big was coming our way. Things have been too quiet lately,” Blalock said, watching as Tache hustled away two reporters who were getting too close.
“Does that mean you welcome the change, or do you wish it could have stayed the way it was?”
“Funny you should ask, Clah. These days, I’ve discovered I enjoy going home at a decent hour. For the first time in umpteen years, I have a life outside the
job.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“Hey, Clah, that doesn’t mean I’m losing my edge.”
“It never even occurred to me,” she said, biting back a smile.
More county deputies in tan uniforms soon arrived and took on the job of removing members of the press who’d pushed in too close to the scene. Their number had grown quickly. Three vans and a cable station sedan were now parked beyond the perimeter,
and satellite dishes were being positioned.
Part of the fence line was soon taken down to facilitate digging near the boundary, and everyone was able to move back and forth as needed. Emily oversaw the task, then joined Blalock and Ella. “Detective Nez got a call from Sheriff Taylor. I’m going to be directing crowd control and support, but he’s responsible for the county’s involvement in this
investigation.”
“Understood,” Ella said.
Hearing another vehicle approaching, Ella turned her head and saw a second sheriff’s department van pulling up. Two techs removed the portable ground-penetrating radar unit and began working the area of disturbed ground over on the county side.
Before long, one of the techs stopped work and went to speak to Nez while the other placed markers. “Readings
indicate the presence of a body,” the man said.
Less than ten minutes later, the presence of a third victim was confirmed. The body was facedown like the ones on the reservation side. “Two holes to the back of the skull—another execution,” Nez muttered.
“Make sure county uses their ground-penetrating radar on the entire site, including tribal land,” Blalock suggested to Nez.
“Copy that,” Nez
answered, “but if we’ve got more bodies farther east and south, radar might have a problem detecting those.”
“Why’s that?” Blalock asked.
“The ground we’re checking now is relatively dry, but closer to the river, it’ll contain a lot more moisture. Too much water and the radar won’t penetrate. We may have to finish the job the old fashioned way—digging blind—if we find more disturbed ground.”
“Without radar, working farther south and east could take weeks, months,” Ella said.
“True, but I don’t think the killer would have risked digging closer to the highway where he might have been seen,” Nez said. “The three victims we’ve got appear to have been killed at different times and he took great care to hide the bodies. We’re after someone who plans and thinks like a pro. He doesn’t act
on the spur of the moment.”
“What’s also strange is that he chose to bury his victims on both sides of the fence,” Ella said.
“Maybe he knows the law and deliberately wanted to create jurisdictional issues,” Nez said. “Or it could be his priority was finding areas where digging would be easier, and that would also keep him out of view while he worked.”
Hearing a vehicle pull up and reporters
shouting questions, Ella turned her head and saw the M.E.’s van passing through a temporary gap in the yellow perimeter tape. “Here comes Dr. Roanhorse, our M.E.,” she said. “She might agree to process the deceased on both sides of the border. If she does, that would simplify the process.”
Nez glanced at Ella. “Are you suggesting that we officially request her services?”
“It makes more sense
to have our M.E. handle all the bodies. She won’t have the backlog they have in Albuquerque, considering they handle autopsies for the entire state.”
As Nez’s expression hardened slightly, she knew what was on his mind. Jurisdictional issues invariably created problems. “It’s just a suggestion. I’m not trying to tell you guys what to do. I just want to make sure we get answers quickly. Having
only one M.E. involved will make it easier for her to spot links or commonalities in the M.O. that might otherwise be missed. And she’s licensed at the same level as the medical examiners in Albuquerque.”
“It’s not my call,” Nez said after a beat. “Let me check with Sheriff Taylor.”
“I’ll speed things up,” Blalock said. “Tell Paul that I’m recommending we have Dr. Roanhorse perform all the autopsies.
The slugs and all the other hard evidence found on your side will get processed by your people. Results will be shared equally, including testimony and paperwork. Combining forces and efforts is the only way to go here since we’re all looking for the same killer.”
Nez made a quick phone call to Sheriff Taylor, then gave them the nod. “It’s a go.”
Processing a crime scene was long, painstaking
work, and theirs was extended even more when a fourth body was found, again on tribal land. By then, Ella’s team was weary of digging and the county crime scene team helped with exhumation.
It was midafternoon and temperatures were in the low nineties now. Pizza had been provided via an arriving deputy, and officers were drinking bottled water by the case—supplied by a Kirtland grocery store
owner who had a son serving as a county deputy. With the sun beating down, Ella was grateful she didn’t have her ballistics vest on anymore as she moved from place to place, almost never in the shade.
Each piece of evidence was photographed, numbered, collected, and tagged, and a dozen officers went over every square foot of ground for a hundred yards in every direction.
Ella and Nez established
a central processing area on a folding table surrounded by law enforcement vehicles. That allowed them to conceal much of their findings from the prying eyes of the media.
“A total of eight slugs were found in or around the victims,” Neskahi said. “Six are nine-millimeter one-hundred-forty-seven-grain jacketed hollow-points. And here’s a surprise, the slugs found beneath the oldest victim, the
second body we found, are one-hundred-grain AP, armor piercing. They’re barely deformed, but still nine millimeter. In doing an eyeball comparison of lands and grooves, they appear to have been fired from the same weapon as the hollow-points—though forensics will have to confirm that. Justine recognized the maker of the AP slugs. Those rounds are supposedly only sold to law enforcement.”
“So,
either those rounds got into the wrong hands or we might be dealing with a cop,” Ella said.
“Or an ex-cop,” Joe replied. “But that’s the extent of the evidence we can link conclusively to the crimes. We haven’t found any spent casings, which means the shooter gathered them up. Nine-millimeter revolvers are extremely rare, so we’re almost certainly talking pistol here—and an evidence-wise shooter.”
“Then there’s the usual gazillion lift tabs from old beer and soda cans dating back to the seventies and before, empty booze bottles, soda, beer cans, and gum wrappers,” Benny Pete said. “None of them appear to have been tossed recently.”
Ella nodded. “There used to be a bar not far from here. The Turquoise Bar, I think it was called. But that closed down twenty years ago or more.”
“Not counting
those two AP rounds, there’s one piece of evidence that struck me as unusual,” Nez said, “or weirdly coincidental, depending on your point of view. On the ground directly over the body found on our side of the fence was a pair of dice. Facing up were two ones—snake-eyes.”
“Interesting. Any idea what it means?” Ella asked.
Nez shook his head. “Maybe the killer was telling us that the vic was
a real snake and deserved two bullets in the skull. Or maybe it’s not connected at all. There are several casinos in the general area.”
“Here’s a likely connection. Children’s board games often come with dice. Remember the child’s shoe prints I found? A kid’s been playing in this area recently,” Benny said. “In a little smoothed-out spot on the tribal side—I marked it on my sketch of the scene—Officer
Tache found the child’s footprints. He also discovered a small red toy Jeep, several olive-drab plastic soldiers, and a doll’s head—nothing else, just the head. There are no splatter marks or mud on any of them, so they were left here around the same time the kid was here, yesterday or last night.”
“The kid may have seen something, though based on the deterioration of the remains, he would have
had to have been hanging around here for months,” Ella said. “In any case, it’s still worth looking into. Where’s the closest residence?”
“There are houses scattered about north of here, and, of course there’s the old, abandoned Hogback trading post.” Justine pointed in the direction of an old white cinder-block building that butted up against the eastern wall of the Hogback formation.
“We need
to check all those out, including the trading post.
Anaashii
, squatters, take up residence almost anywhere these days, so the old trading post’s fair game,” Ella said.
While her team cataloged the gathered evidence, Ella opened up her cell phone and called her brother, Clifford. His wife, Loretta, answered after several rings.
Hearing her voice, Ella stiffened, then forced herself to relax.
Loretta and she had never found it easy to get along. “I need to speak to my brother,” Ella said, wishing for the umpteenth time that Clifford would carry a cell phone.
“I’ll go get him for you.”
Moments later Clifford answered. “I heard there’s a situation over by the Hogback and that there are officers everywhere. Are you okay?”
“Yes, but we’ve been around several bodies and my team will
need a purification rite done right away. Otherwise it’ll be nearly impossible for my officers to question other Navajos,” she said, then gave him their precise location.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible and bring what’s needed. How many Navajo officers are with you?”
After Ella gave him the information, she saw Dan Nez standing behind her, holding up one hand.
“I’d like to be included in
the rite,” he whispered.
Ella nodded and counted him in.
“Thanks,” Nez said after she hung up, but he didn’t move away.
“Something else on your mind?” Ella asked.