Red Mesa (17 page)

“I’ll take care of it.” Ella grimly pulled out her cell phone.

*   *   *

Blalock and Payestewa arrived in the senior agent’s vehicle a few hundred yards behind Dr. Carolyn Roanhorse’s ME van and Ralph Tache in
the crime scene vehicle. Ella waited for them by her own Jeep.

Carolyn reached her first, the ME’s expression showing more emotion than usual. “You look like hell, Ella. Don’t you think you should get out of here?” she asked quietly.

“I can’t. I have to know if that’s Justine.”

“That type of ID is going to take some time. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted. “It’s going to be hell waiting,”
she said. “But in the meantime, I have a job to do. I’m just finding it hard to stay focused. The possibility that it might be Justine’s body over there scares the daylights out of me.”

“I’ll do the lab work as quickly as I can. But let me get started with the preliminary examination. I just hope we have enough of the remains to make a positive ID.”

Carolyn slipped under the yellow crime scene
tape Ella and the sergeant had erected and walked over to the grave. Neskahi and Tache followed, along with Ella. The partial skull was visible, along with the long bone that Ella had unearthed. “I hope you all don’t think I’m going to dig up the rest of what’s there. That’s not my job.” Carolyn stared at Joseph, who looked as pale as the sand-colored shirt Blalock was wearing.

Ella looked at
the agents as they all put on their latex gloves. Payestewa was dressed up like a Hollywood version of an Indian-turned-cowboy. He was wearing a Stetson, a new pin-striped western-style suit, and shiny new boots.

Ella started to pick up the shovel, but Blalock beat her to it. “You shouldn’t have to do this. Not this time, at least. We’ll handle it.” Blalock handed Payestewa the tool. “This is
a job for younger men.”

Payestewa scowled, but didn’t argue. As he worked, Tache continued to take photos, recording everything. A short time later, a half dozen large fragments of bone and many smaller pieces had been uncovered from the fire pit that served as a grave. All of the soft tissue was destroyed, and most of the bones were charcoal. With only the upper portion of the skull and what
Carolyn identified as a femur, there was scant evidence to work with, though the remains were human. From the size of the skull, Carolyn could only conclude that the skeleton belonged to a small woman or large child.

By now the bones were cool enough to touch, but the hideous smell—a combination of the sweet stench of burned tissue and gasoline—was revolting enough to make Joseph take off in
a jog.

Carolyn studied the few pieces of bone intact enough to identify, setting them into a large plastic container once she’d looked them over. “It looks like the body was chopped up with an axe and a large knife, and maybe a saw. The pieces were then placed in a shallow pit and burned with gasoline or something similar. When the fire died down, the remains were probably stirred up and more
fuel was added. This must have gone on for a few hours, but it wouldn’t have been seen easily from the highway because of that ridge. The way I figure it, the fire must have burned very hot. That’s the only way I can explain why so much of the skeleton is missing and why what’s here is so charred.”

“It had to have happened sometime after I left, about ten
P.M.
,” Ella said, remembering. “Chopping
up a body and then destroying it like this would have taken a lot of time. Of course, it’s entirely possible that whoever did this had help.” As she mentally reviewed the events, she had another disturbing thought. Perhaps the small fire she’d seen had all been part of a plan to lure her in and get her to leave her tracks at the crime scene.

“Identification will be tricky, maybe impossible,”
Carolyn warned. “The few fragments of teeth on the upper jaw may not do me any good, and the lower jaw is missing. We’ll have to screen all the dirt around here and see what else we can find. Whoever cut up the body took special care to smash the teeth, probably against a rock. The teeth fragments that remain are unusable for dental records comparisons.”

“What about DNA?” Ella asked, her voice
so strained it sounded odd even in her own ears.

“These bones have been virtually destroyed. I doubt I’ll be able to extract any DNA from their interior. I need fluids or some kind of tissue, and I doubt any still exists on or within the bones.” Carolyn shook her head. “It’s been vaporized.”

“Maybe we can find something the victim was wearing, a ring or metal button, that will give us a clue,”
Ella said, looking at Neskahi, Tache, and the agents. “This all took place in the dark, so maybe the killer overlooked something.”

Blalock nodded, and everyone at the scene except Carolyn began to search the ground on their hands and knees. Ella searched every square inch of the section that had been assigned to her, not overlooking a single blade of grass or pebble. Yet all the while she desperately
hoped that someone else would make the discovery, if there was one to be made.

“I’ve got something,” Neskahi said, pointing at something on the ground about six feet from the edge of the grave. “Doctor, you’d better get this yourself.”

Carolyn walked over, squatted down next to an ant bed, then pulled a plastic bag out of her lab coat pocket. Ralph Tache walked over, carefully took a photograph,
and stood again, pale as a ghost.

Carolyn picked something up with a pair of tweezers, brushed off the ants with her gloved hand, then put the small object into the bag. “I’ll be able to identify the victim now. Count on it.”

She looked at Ella, but didn’t show her the bag. “It’s a phalange, the end of a human finger, probably a Navajo’s, that’s been cut off at the last joint by a sharp knife
or saw. It didn’t make it into the fire.” Carolyn walked back toward her van, muttering something about getting it on ice.

Ella felt everything spinning, but she managed to remain standing. Suddenly realizing that she was going to be sick, she took off running. Ella barely made it past the crime scene tape before emptying the contents of her stomach.

It took her several minutes before she felt
controlled enough to return. Blalock was pale, and Payestewa was hunched over fifty yards away, his back to them. Those remaining were back on the ground, searching for more misplaced body parts. Blalock had lit up a cigar, and together with Tache was sifting through the soil, using a wire screen taken from the crime scene van. Carolyn was looking at something she’d placed in a large plastic refrigerator-type
container.

Ella considered asking Blalock for a cigar, but suspected that one puff would make her vomit all over again. “Can you tell us anything about the cause of death from what you have?” she asked Carolyn in the strongest voice she could muster.

“The victim was shot right through the head, execution style. That part of the skull remains, so it was easy making the call. I can’t do any toxicology
reports, obviously, except on the fingertip, and that probably won’t tell us much at all. So far the officers have managed to sift out a few traces of charred cloth and one relatively intact earring. I’ll have the lab work done up on them.”

“I saw the earring, but can’t say for sure that I recognize it.” Ella’s voice was only a whisper. “Anything that looks like a badge?”

Carolyn shook her head.
“Not yet, but they’re still sifting through the surface dirt.”

Ella turned away from the small artifacts that had once belonged to whoever died here last night. Unable to look at them one moment longer, she walked over to Joseph, who was still searching the ground in a widening spiral away from the grave.

“Badge?” she repeated unsteadily.

“No.”

Ella turned and saw Agent Payestewa removing
a metal detector from the tribal crime scene vehicle. They weren’t going to miss anything, and that was another sign that good cops were at work here. She had to put her personal feelings aside, join them again, and do her part.

Ella returned to where Tache and Blalock were sifting through the dirt from around the grave, placing shovelfuls of sand onto the wire screen, slowly filtering the sand.
Everything remaining on the screen was carefully examined, and anything not a rock or plant debris was collected, labeled, and placed in containers.

She had to start thinking of the deceased as merely “the victim,” and of her and the others here as professionals just doing their jobs. It didn’t serve anyone if she continued to assume the worst for Justine. Her cousin was probably somewhere else,
safe and very much alive. Holding to that thought, she helped the others collect, label, and sort potential evidence.

Finally Ella walked over to where Carolyn was packing up her tape recorder and instruments.

While Payestewa circled farther away, checking for anything outside the crime scene tape that they might have overlooked, Ella joined Carolyn. “I’ve been thinking about this. I really
don’t believe the body belongs to my cousin. She left before I did and had no reason to come back here.”

Yet even as she said it, she realized she was clinging to the Navajo belief that words had power and uttering them could make it so. It was entirely possible that the person who’d brought them together in the first place might have tricked Justine into returning. Or maybe she’d been kidnapped
on the way home.

As if reading her thoughts, Carolyn shook her head. “You’ve got a personal stake in this and that’s skewing your outlook. Let the case develop and the facts speak for themselves. Even your intuition is bound to fail you when you’re scared. And you are. That’s easy for me to see.”

Hearing Blalock whistle shrilly, calling out to them from beyond the designated crime scene perimeter,
she looked up and saw Payestewa running to meet him, as well as Neskahi.

“Now what?” Ella muttered, torn between fear and a heaviness of spirit that bordered on mental exhaustion.

She jogged up the slope that obstructed her view of the area beyond, then back down the opposite side to a large arroyo where the others had gathered. As she drew near, she saw a tribal unit inside the narrow wash,
barely visible. A few tumbleweeds were on the top of the vehicle, as if someone had attempted to hide it from the air. Ella recognized it instantly from the code number. It was Justine’s.

TWELVE

Ella helped Payestewa and Blalock search the vehicle and dust for prints while Tache and Sergeant Neskahi examined the area around it. Everyone worked as quickly as they dared. There was no doubt now in anyone’s mind that Justine was in trouble—just how serious was yet to be determined. All of them knew that Justine never would have abandoned her unit while it was still operational, leaving
the shotgun in place and the keys in the ignition. Only one explanation made sense. Somehow, Justine had been lured out of her vehicle.

“There’s a six-pack of cola in the back that hasn’t been touched.” Agent Payestewa noted. “And there are no signs of violence or a struggle I can find.”

“Whoever she encountered passed up the shotgun and everything else inside,” Ella said. “They deliberately
hid the unit here, too, to delay discovery.”

“There’s an empty water bottle in the front with lipstick smears on it. I’ll have the lab check against the brand Justine uses, but I’ll need a sample for comparison.” Blalock added.

Ella nodded mechanically. “I’ll get it from her mother.”

They continued to work the scene for three more hours. Ella, acutely aware of the passage of time, suspected
that the news was probably all over Shiprock by now. A few cars had already driven by the original crime scene, and the presence of the FBI and the medical investigator’s vehicle would send off an alarm.

As Ella continued to help the other officers search and collect evidence, her restlessness grew. Hair samples and fibers were gathered, labeled, and sealed, but throughout the process, Ella couldn’t
shake the feeling that they were missing something important.

The department sent a tow truck, and Justine’s unit, though undamaged, was hauled away as evidence. An eternity later, the FBI agents and Ella and her team took a final look around.

“It’s time to process everything we’ve collected and then start talking to her friends and relatives,” Blalock said. “I don’t need to tell everyone that
we’ll need to move fast on this.”

Ella nodded and started to reply when she saw a familiar old four-wheel-drive SUV approaching from the highway. She took a deep, unsteady breath. This was the last thing she’d expected or needed.

Blalock looked up and signaled Payestewa. “Get rid of them if they stop.”

“No, I’ll take care of it. That’s my cousin, Justine’s mother, and it looks like one of her
other daughters is with her.”

A Chevy pulled up beside Ella’s Jeep, and Angela Goodluck jumped out immediately, followed by Ruth, Justine’s oldest sister. Seeing Ella, Angela and Ruth ran toward her. They were both pale and their eyes wide with fear.

“We heard the medical examiner was here and on the way passed my daughter’s vehicle being towed. Tell me nothing’s happened, that the rumors aren’t
true,” Angela said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“She’s missing, and that’s
all
we know,” Ella said, hating herself for not being able to give them the answer they wanted. “You should both go home. As soon as there’s any news, I’ll call right away.”

“Dr. Roanhorse was here, we heard,” Ruth interjected. “Is my sister…”

“A body was found, but we have no reason to conclude it was your sister’s,”
Ella said. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Angela gave Ella a look that seemed to go right through her. “Our family won’t rest until my daughter’s home or we have answers.”

Ella shared their anguish, but now the load she carried seemed even more pronounced. She had to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. Either Justine had suddenly taken off, which seemed unlikely, been kidnapped, or been murdered
and her body burned beyond recognition. The other possibility, that Justine herself was responsible for the charred body, was such a far-fetched notion that she wouldn’t even consider it.