Mountainway Chant

by M J Calabrese

  Mountainway Chant

  Coulter & Woodard Book 2

  A Coulter/Woodard Mystery

  BY

  M.J. Calabrese

  Copyright ©2020 M.J. Calabrese

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Reese Dante

  Edited by Avril Stepowski

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter 9

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Dedications are like the Oscar winners’ speeches; it can’t be too long and you’re always going to

  leave something out. So, I apologize ahead of time if I forget someone special.

  First off, I have to thank my Wifey, Cynthia, who has dealt with my creative insanity for 24 years. She is my rock and the love of my life. I want to thank Avril Marie PA. I literally couldn’t do this without her skills, encouragement, and weekly beatings. (OH! NO! Not the comfy chair!!!). Thanks to Tammy, ace betareader. Your insight and honesty have helped me so much. I also want to thank my readers who purchased Warrior’s Way and left me a review. Mountainway Chant is even stronger and full of surprises. I loved writing this book. Lastly, thank you to my magent (manager/agent) Anita, who is not afraid to push me and keep me on the right track with these novels while nudging me in my other profession. (Yes, that script is coming!!! I swear.)

  I look forward to finishing this series with Nightway Chant. Eagle’s past finally catches up to him, affecting everyone he holds dear.

  Chapter One

  Crow, like all the other scavengers of the desert, had heard Vulture’s call. He had seen their swirling signal high overhead as they reeled and soared on the thermals. The message told of food, newly dead, ready to fill empty stomachs.

  Suddenly, a glint of bright light from far below caught Crow’s eye. He blinked as he focused in on the source. Dipping a wing, he dropped toward the light. The green creature moved quickly, almost as quickly as Crow, over the desert floor. It bucked and shimmied as if Cougar was on its heels. Crow drew closer. Cawing his dismay, it was the Shapeshifter, Man, riding within this noisy monster. Crow paced Man’s creation and remembered how Man stole many a meal from Crow and his brethren. Such was the way of Mother Earth. Only the swift and strong survived.

  Crow beat his wings hard, putting distance between himself and the Shapeshifter. Crow focused on the dark spot ahead. With any luck, Man would tire and fall behind leaving the spoils to him.

  The Jeep Grand Cherokee barreled down the dirt road. Moving way too fast, it kicked sand and gravel high in the hot desert air. Anyone following behind risked serious windshield damage from the flying debris. The man at the wheel of the 1990 green Jeep SUV had the window rolled down all the way. His burnished brown skin dulled in the morning sunlight by a fine, powdery coat of dust. His long, dark hair whipped around his face by the rushing wind. Only once did his left hand leave the steering wheel to pull a strand of hair out of his mouth. His fingers strayed down to unconsciously trace the long,thin scar that blazed a trail from the corner of his upper lip to the top of his cheekbone, marring his otherwise perfect features.

  The man raised his middle finger to push his discount store sunglasses up onto the bridge of his nose. Despite the early hour it was already getting hot. By noon, it would be over 100 degrees, a real scorcher for this late in the year. Switching hands on the bucking wheel, he cranked up the volume on the radio. The words to Runnin’ created by the masterful vocalizations of Adam Lambert overrode the noise of the rushing winds. The words of that song were his truth. He’d run all his life. The time to stop was now. Cranking up the volume, the sound nearly drowned out the noise of the already overtaxed engine as Dr. Adam Coulter pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

  ****

  Detective Eagle Woodard saw a cloud of dust making its zigzag way across this roadless section of desert. The SUVs and trucks nearby circled the crime scene like wagons in days gone by. Their blue lights strobing to mark the place they all gathered. Eagle ran his calloused hand through his short, raven hair before reseating his sweat damp ball cap on his head. He sighed. He had regretted cutting his hair almost as soon as he’d done it. A few weeks ago, too much alcohol and a dose of melancholy had caused him to pick up a pair of scissors. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it now, but to start the arduous task of letting it grow back out.

  The older model green Jeep skidded to a halt about 30 feet away, causing a choking cloud of dust to waft over the scene. Eagle raised one eyebrow. Jaw tensing. He barely recognized the man in the SUV. He watched as the man pulled his long, brown hair back into a ponytail, securing it with a black, wrapped-rubber band. An Army surplus, long sleeve shirt covered a khaki colored tank tee. He was surprised to see Adam in such an old vehicle. In the past, Adam wouldn’t’ve been caught dead in anything less than some flashy SUV costing ten times what the late model Jeep cost. The grapevine said a lot of things had changed with his former lover. Rumor had it, he’d lost all his money. Gone were the expensive suits and watches costing over one hundred grand. No more two hundred dollar haircuts. Now he was living in the low rent area of Albuquerque and buying his clothes at thrift stores, and if what he had on was an example, then those rumors might hold some truth. With a smirk, Eagle snorted as he strode toward the dark gree
n Jeep. For a moment, he could almost believe there was a God. It looked like Adam Coulter had finally gotten what he deserved. He had needed something to make him humble. No more silver spoons. No more unlimited bank accounts.

  Maria Woodard, Eagle’s mother, told him she’d seen Adam at a local church where they held AA meetings during the day. She said he was quieter, almost shy with her, and sad. That he was very different from the man they knew. She claimed he had cleaned up his act. That he no longer used or drank, but Eagle had seen this pattern repeated over and over in the past. It never lasted very long. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting, but he knew it was inevitable since the day he’d heard that Adam Coulter had returned.

  His husband had disappeared for over a year before returning to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Since his return two months prior, they still hadn’t talked. Adam had tried to contact him repeatedly and Eagle had to give the man props for his persistence with texts and emails. He’d even come to the house one night, pounding on the door, demanding that Eagle open it and talk to him, but he hadn’t. The pain of his lover’s abandonment was still too great. Now they had a crime scene where both would join their skills to solve the murder of the five men lying on the ground in front of him.

  The dust covered Jeep’s engine popped and groaned as it tried to cool itself in the growing desert heat. Looking over at the passenger seat, Adam snatched up his iPhone. He was looking at it as he started to open the car door. Suddenly the door slammed back, hitting him hard in the thigh.

  Adam jumped. Eyes wide with surprise. “What the fuck?”

  Eagle held onto the door, preventing Adam from getting out. “Why are you here? You don’t work for the APD anymore.” The tall, angry man growled.

  A deep, familiar voice chimed in behind him. “I asked him to come.” Eagle turned. His cousin, Carlos Aiello, Lieutenant with the Navajo Reservation Police, stepped forward. The two men stood apart, bodies tense, readying for the fight. Their eyes locked on one another, each Alpha male testing the other’s resolve.

  Quickly evaluating the situation, Adam sighed, “I think I’ll stay here until you two get done with your pissing contest.” He relaxed back in his seat. One hand rubbing the sore spot on his leg. He knew he had to tread carefully here.

  Eagle was the first to blink so Carlos pushed his cousin aside as he then turned a smile on the man in the Jeep. Reaching down, he opened the creaky driver’s side door.

  “Good to see you, Adam. It’s been a while.” Carlos took Adam’s arm, guiding him from the Jeep and into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  Adam accepted Carlos’ affection then answered him honestly, “Missed you, too.” Patting the other man on the back, he knew this was more than a greeting from an old friend. It was Carlos’ way of letting everyone standing around them know that he was being accepted back into the group. Released from his friend’s grip, Adam turned, nodding to a few of the faces he recognized. Some seemed friendly, some not. Coulter hesitated when another familiar, but unwanted person from his past walked toward him.

  Special Agent Rick Kessler of the FBI walked up behind Eagle. Blond and tanned, Adam noted the man hadn’t changed much in the past thirteen months. He was surprised to see that Kessler was still in the Albuquerque area. His antagonist’s plan had been to move quickly up the administrative ladder in the FBI. His presence, obviously, denoted that something had gone wrong with this plan. Kessler glanced at Aiello, then smiled as well. Placing a hand on Adam’s arm, he gently led him away toward the crime scene. “Good to see you, Dr. Coulter. Glad you could come.”

  Carlos saw his cousin turn. He didn’t like the look in Eagle’s eye and stepped forward, allowing Adam and Kessler to head for the bodies laid out in the sand. Neither man looked back.

  “What the fuck is he doing here, Carlos?” The tension around them was intense.

  “He’s our consultant.”

  Eagle snatched off his sunglasses, glaring at his cousin. Most men would be intimidated, but Carlos knew his cousin well. He wouldn’t lay a finger on him, but lately, when Eagle felt out of control, he lashed out or he drank. He had personally pulled Eagle out of two bar fights in the past few months. One had led to a suspension. Something had to give, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. He kept his voice low and calm. “Not your crime scene, Eagle. Back off.”

  “That may be your opinion, but I disagree.”

  *****

  Thirty sets of eyes watched Dr. Adam Coulter, forensic psychologist and crime scene expert. He stopped and stood very still. His eyes scanning every detail of the ritualistically positioned bodies. Focusing on the job at hand, he shut out everything else from his mind and concentrated on what he was looking at.

  Carlos walked up beside his friend. “Weird, huh?” He whispered as he leaned close to Adam.

  Adam frowned, “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “You can have 15 minutes, that’s all.” Eagle announced as he stepped up beside Adam, but refused to look at him.

  Adam quickly glanced over at Carlos. “You’re the one paying me. What do you say?”

  “Take as long as you want, Dr. Coulter.” Agent Kessler chimed in behind them, answering before Carlos had a chance.

  Eagle turned, angry at the interruption. “What?”

  “We’re arguing over jurisdiction on this one.” Carlos explained to Adam. “Those guys,” he pointed to the corpses in the center, “are set perfectly on the survey line dividing Bernalillo County land and Navajo Reservation land. This scene, technically, belongs to both of us.”

  Rick shook his head, suddenly tired of all the bickering. He stepped forward. When he reached the first corpse, he kicked the victim’s feet onto Federal land. “See, problem solved. More than fifty percent of the bodies are now on Reservation land. No more dispute. Our case. Please continue, Dr. Coulter…, and Detective Woodard, looks like you can go home.”

  Adam ventured a glance at Eagle. His former lover grimaced then turned away.

  “Okay, well…, I don’t think I’m going to need more than fifteen minutes to give you an opinion, but I will need full access.”

  Arms crossed, Eagle still refused to look at Adam. “You know, I don’t really give a flying fuck what you do, Adam. Apparently, it’s not my crime scene anymore. Just get done and get out of here.”

  The crowd drew in a collective breath. They saw Adam bite his bottom lip as if he was getting ready to fire off some pithy retort. He seemed to struggle, forcing down the harsh words they all knew were on the tip of his tongue. Adam’s sarcasm was legendary. He could cut a person to shreds with words, but today, he held back. Face reddened behind his tan, fists clenched as he fought to keep his professional façade. The other police officers surrounding them knew the two men’s story and they almost started taking bets as to who would be the one to take the first swing. When Adam didn’t rise to the bait, Eagle grunted and walked away.

  Adam stepped forward, circumnavigating the circle of bodies. North, south, east, and west. All were dressed in costumes with faces painted, making them appear similar to the Native American dolls sold in tourist’s shops. The body in the center of the circle seemed to hold Coulter’s attention longer than the rest. Taking pictures with his iPhone, he finally motioned to Carlos, a silent request to climb into the back of the officer’s pickup truck. Carlos nodded then swinging up onto the tailgate, he joined Adam.

  Again, photos were taken. Adam jumped down, kicking up pale yellow sand and dust on his beat up thrift store cowboy boots and faded jeans. Then he walked the circle again, this time crouching down by one of the bodies. He pulled a pair of vinyl gloves from his back pocket and put them on before lifting the hand and sniffing it. He frowned, then stood again, stripping the damp gloves from his hands. Reaching up, Adam wiped away the dripping sweat from his brow. The heat was getting to be brutal as it beat down on his unprotected head. Without thinking, he pulled his arms out of the Army surplus, long sleeved over-shirt he was wearing. As he tied it around his waist, he
couldn’t miss the murmurs from the crowd. His scarred arms and marred shoulders showed them a small inkling of what lay beneath the fabric. Adam frowned at his faux pas. There would be questions and he knew he’d have to answer them, but for now he needed to concentrate on his work. Looking back at the crime scene, he seemed to mumble something to himself then he shook his head. One last time, he pulled out his cellphone, swiping through various apps. He pursed his lips and again shook his head as he considered all the possibilities. When he walked back to Eagle, Kessler, and Carlos, only ten minutes had passed.

  “Dr. Coulter, what do you think?” Kessler asked.

  “Detective Woodard, Lieutenant Aiello, Agent Kessler.” He deliberately addressed each man by their professional titles. The words kept them all at a distance and that is what he needed to do. Adam removed his sunglasses from his face, deep green eyes squinting as he looked straight at Eagle. The thin, silvery scar that marred the left side of his face stood out in sharp contrast in the glaring sunlight. Adam noticed that Eagle flinched before looking away. Am I such a monster, Tonto, that you can’t even look at me? The thought rose unbidden in his mind. I never meant to hurt you. Adam turned his head.

  Carlos risked a quick look at his cousin. Anyone else would’ve seen a stone faced officer beside him, but what he saw troubled him.

  “If you’ve completed your assessment, Dr. Coulter. I’m sure we’d all like to release our CSI people to gather real evidence.” Eagle’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep his feelings in check.

  Adam looked back and cocked his head, “Do you know what this is, Detective?”

  “You mean, other than a crime scene that’s getting colder by the second?” Eagle snorted, “Well, I’m sure you’re going to enlighten us.”

  Adam shoved his sunglasses back on his face. Crisscrossed silver scars on both arms were added reminders of the assault he’d suffered sixteen months ago. An assault Eagle blamed himself for. He had failed to protect the man standing before him and Adam had paid a heavy price. Each mark on Adam’s skin was like a slap in the face.