Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery (16 page)

The family paused in the yard and the
older man walked toward their car.
 
Lin rolled down her window, “ Are you Mr. Honeyestewa?”

The man nodded, “Yes, what can I do for
you?”

“ I am Lin Hanna and this is my friend
Sue Gray.
 
We are volunteers with
the park service in Flagstaff and were hoping we could visit with you for a few
moments.
 
I was present when the
remains of your son, Cullen, were first discovered.” Lin saw a shadow of
sadness cross the man’s face, “I have a copy of the official police report for
you—I was not sure whether or not you received one.”

The man shook his head.
 
He looked back toward his wife and other
family members who were now standing beside the car.
 
The older woman nodded and motioned for
Lin and Sue to get out of the car.

“Come in,” the older lady said, “We can
talk inside.”

Lin and Sue followed the family into
their small living room.

The older man offered his hand in
greeting. “I am John Honeyestewa, this is my wife Myrna, our daughter Sophie,
and her son Michael,” he indicated the other family members who were now seated—except
for Michael who stood, shuffling his feet impatiently.

John nodded toward Michael, “You can go
on and meet your friend,” he said, “Just be back soon.
 
We will be eating in about an hour.
 
You can bring Teddy with you if you
like.”

Michael was off quickly, walking away
from the house back toward the store on the corner.

Lin removed the report from its folder
and offered it to John Honeyestewa.
 
The older man fingered the pages carefully, reading the opening paragraphs
that presented the summary of the findings.
 
After he had scanned the report he
passed it over to his wife and turned to Lin.

“So Cullen had an unfortunate accident,
probably his own fault,” he sounded resigned but not accepting, “The deputy
came out to see us last week, brought us Cullen’s personal effects, and that is
what he told us.
 
He didn’t share a
copy of the report though—thank you for bringing that.”

Lin started to respond but was
interrupted by Sophie, “I do not believe Cullen had any such accident,” she
snapped, “if he had run off the road with his truck, or someone had hit him—maybe—but
not on foot walking.
 
He was always
careful and knew where he was going and what the land was like there.
 
He wouldn’t have fallen into that crack—never!”
 
She seemed angry.

“ Now, Sophie.
 
We can’t be so sure,” it was Myrna who
spoke, trying to calm her daughter.
 
“I know Cullen was always careful and knew where he was going; but, accidents
can happen and….” She paused, as emotion seemed to overtake her.
 
She wiped away tears.

“We are so sorry for your loss,” Sue
interjected, “Tell us about your son, if you don’t mind, I understand he was a
collector of ceremonial things for your clan.
 
You must have been very proud of him.”

This time it was John who spoke, “ Cullen
was a good man.
 
He and Henry
Piestewa were collectors of eaglets and eagle feathers for our clan
ceremonies.
 
Those jobs carry great
responsibility and only responsible people are chosen for such duties.
 
Cullen took his duties to his community
and to this family very seriously.
 
We all miss him very much.”

Sophie had composed herself but she still
seemed a bit angry, “That deputy told us that perhaps Cullen had had too much
to drink and that caused him to be careless and led to his fall.
 
That was shocking to me.
 
So far as I know, Cullen never
drank.
 
He knew that alcoholism was
a real problem for many in our community and he was always opposed to drinking.
 
He even tried to get folks with drinking
problems into the AA meetings at the church!”

Myrna had composed herself and now spoke,
“Cullen was always sober.
 
I never
saw him drinking either.
 
I can’t
believe he was drunk.
 
There must be
some other explanation for his fall but I’m not sure what that would be.”

“ Can you think of a reason Cullen might
have gone to the park last year—what he might have been doing there?” Lin
had decided to press forward with her questions, as the family seemed willing
to talk to them.

John responded, “ Not really, it was too
early for the ceremonies.
 
He could
have been collecting, but I doubt it.
 
He would have waited a few weeks it seems to me.”

Again it was Sophie who spoke up. “ I don’t
know what he would have been doing there,” she offered, “ just before he
disappeared, he told me that he was trying to do something to help Michael.”
  
She breathed a deep sigh, “My son
is a good boy but last year he fell in with a fast crowd.
 
He was partying and skipping school—dropped
out in fact.
 
Cullen tried to get
him to go back.
 
Then Michael told
us he owed money to Raymond Tso, that pawn shop fellow in Tuba.
 
He had borrowed money and was gambling
and partying and he lost it all and couldn’t pay it back.
 
Tso was threatening him and he was
scared so he told me and Cullen all about it.”

Sophie continued her story. “Michael’s father
left us when he was very young.
 
We
have lived here with my family since.
 
Cullen felt responsible for Michael—he was his maternal uncle and,
for us Hopi, that is the most important relationship for a male child,” she
explained. “He had promised to do all he could to help Michael but he wanted
him to change his ways and go back to school.
 
Just before he disappeared last year, he
had told Michael he had a plan to repay his debts to Mr. Tso.
 
He said he had found a way to get the
money. He expected Michael to straighten up and be responsible.
 
He was going to teach him about his
duties so that maybe one day Michael could be a collector too.
 
Then he vanished and all that plan
ended.”

“ What happened when Cullen disappeared,”
Sue asked.

Sophie began to tear up as she responded,
“Nothing good happened.
 
Michael was
attacked one day walking home from the store.
 
He was beaten up pretty good—still
has some scars.
 
It was one of Tso’s
men.
 
He took him to Tso’s shop
after he beat him up and Mr. Tso told him he was tired of waiting for his
money.
 
He was going to give Michael
a job in his shop but all his pay would go toward his debt.
 
Michael has been working at Tso’s shop
every weekday since then; sometimes he sends him on errands around the
Rez.
 
He doesn’t give him any money
though—says it’s all going to pay his debts.
 
I think he should have paid by now, but
Michael says he does not think he even writes anything down or keeps any kind
of record.
 
He feels like a slave—like
he will have to work there forever.”
 
She sobbed openly, “ I do not know how to help my boy.
 
He needs to go back to school so he can
get a real job.”

Lin and Sue exchanged glances.
 
This seemed to be a grave situation to
them.
 
What could be done to help
this family?

“Perhaps you should report this situation
to the tribal authorities,” Lin ventured.

John Honeyestewa spoke up, “ Would do no
good—just bring on more bad things.
 
Raymond Tso is a bad man but everyone around here is afraid to cross
him.
 
He has several of these young
men working, just like Michael.
 
No
one can do anything to Mr. Tso.”
  
He sounded resigned to this situation.

Sue spoke next, “ We will hope that
Michael’s situation will improve soon,” she did not feel that angle was worth
pursuing, at that point, and Lin felt the same.
 
There was probably nothing they could do
about Michael’s situation at the moment anyway.
 
Moving back to the topic of Cullen’s
disappearance and death, Lin sought to get more information, since the family
seemed ready to share with them.

“ The report seems to show very little
evidence of what actually happened,” she offered, “ I was there when Cullen’s
remains were found and I know that they did not find anything at the site
except a bloody rock—no pack, for example, no bottles—not liquor or
even water.
 
When you got Cullen’s
truck back was there anything in it that might have given you a clue as to what
he was doing?”

Again, it was John who spoke, “No,
nothing really—I think he had a few papers maybe—a bunch of junk
really.”

Myrna spoke up, “ I don’t know why, but I
did keep some of the stuff that was there.
 
Put it in a bag.
 
It is in
the desk drawer.”
 
She got up to
retrieve the items.

She opened the plastic grocery bag and
pulled out a handful of papers that appeared to be mostly gasoline receipts and
other such items.
 
She also pulled
out a belt and Lin recognized the eagle belt buckle that had been found on the
remains.

Myrna sighed, “ I also have the belt he
was wearing and his wallet.
 
Those
were the only things left in decent condition when his body was found.
 
The deputy brought them to us.”

 
She fingered the belt and slipped the
large eagle buckle off, “ We buried Cullen just two days ago.
 
I almost put this buckle in the casket
with his remains but I changed my mind. I am going to give this to
Michael.
 
Cullen would want him to
have it.
 
Maybe it will remind him
of all he has to be proud of and help him find his way.” She laughed gently as
she fingered the beautiful piece, “He will have to buy a new belt though.
 
This buckle is too big to fit on his
belt and he is too skinny to wear Cullen’s.
  
I will give it to him later today,
when he returns, and I will give him some money to buy a new belt for it,” the
thought seemed to comfort her.

“Can I see some of the papers?” Lin
ventured to ask.
 
Myrna passed the
bag to her.

Lin pulled out a small handful of mostly
receipts and a few cards—gasoline, snacks, no really major
purchases.
 
A card from a medical
clinic with an appointment time and another from a car repair place, nothing
seemed significant but…Lin paused as she came to the last card in the small
stack. It was a card from the art gallery in Flagstaff where she had met Neal
Smith.
 
The owner’s name, John
Sessions, was printed on the bottom.
 
Lin drew in a deep breath—Was there a connection there? Would the
gallery owner know Cullen and maybe know something about him that his family
did not know?
 
It seemed worth
pursuing to Lin.
 
She turned the
card over, there was a phone number written on the back—not the gallery
number and not otherwise identified.
 
Lin wondered who that could be.

“Could I please keep this card?” Lin
turned to Myrna and John, “It probably is meaningless, but I do know this
gallery and maybe someone there knew Cullen.
 
They might have some information about
some of his activities that could answer some of our questions.
 
With your permission, I would like to
ask.”

“Sure, keep it,” John said. “We would
probably throw it away anyway, so you don’t need to worry about returning
it.
 
The belt buckle and wallet are
really the only items of value here.”

“Thank you,” Lin responded, “I will
certainly let you know if I learn anything more that might answer some of our
questions about what Cullen was doing in the park and what might have actually
happened there.
 
Now we had better go,
we are holding you up from your Sunday dinner.”
 
Lin and Sue rose to leave.

“Thank you for coming,” Myrna said. “We
do have questions and it is kind of you to listen to us.
 
Our son will be sorely missed but life
will go on.
 
Thank you for the copy
of the report.”

“Hopefully, we will see you again soon,”
Lin smiled. “Thank you for being so hospitable.”

Lin and Sue left the family and returned
to their car.
 
Lin could hardly wait
until they drove away to share with Sue the information about the gallery contact.
 
She had talked to Sue earlier regarding
her questions about the case and her concerns that the accidental death ruling
had been a hasty one but she hadn’t spoken about her visit to the gallery in
Flagstaff.
 
Now, as they drove back
toward the park, she elaborated, telling Sue all about going to the gallery and
about her lunch with Neal Smith.
  
She also told Sue about the trip to Grand Canyon, telling her she found
Smith good company and enjoyed being with him.
 
“ There is something, though that I feel
uneasy about,” Lin added.