“On Monday, November 1, Kevin Riker, a recent college graduate from Texas, was hiking in the Secret Mountain Wilderness area on the plateau above the West Fork of Oak Creek. Mr. Riker discovered the body of a murdered priest, Father Sean Murphy of the Sedona parish. Mr. Riker raced down to the nearest telephone and contacted the Sheriff’s Department in Sedona. Detective Chad Archer and I returned to the crime scene with Mr. Riker. Because of Mr. Riker’s prompt action, Detective Archer, and I were able to investigate the crime scene before it was disturbed. Because of Mr. Riker’s good citizenship, the Sheriff’s Department has also been able to uncover a series of crimes committed in that portion of the wilderness over a period of many years.
“Yesterday, Kevin Riker, 22 years old, was murdered by a hit and run driver on Highway 89A near the north end of Oak Creek Canyon. The vehicle used to run Mr. Riker’s bicycle off the side of the canyon was found within half an hour of the crime. It was burned to destroy fingerprint and DNA evidence. The driver was not apprehended. The State Crime lab has matched the tires of that Lincoln Navigator to tire tracks found near the scene of the Father Sean Murphy murder. The vehicle was stolen from a long-term parking lot near the Los Angeles Airport. We believe the two crimes are closely connected.
“Evidence, found at the scene of the Father Sean Murphy murder, led us to suspect that we might be dealing with a series of murders. The day after news of Father Sean Murphy’s murder became public, Former Sheriff George Cook contacted our current sheriff, Greg Taylor. Mr. Cook explained that there was a history of missing people in the area reaching back to at least 1969. Sheriff Taylor did a thorough investigation. When he reviewed the records of Coconino County, he found that there were people reported missing from the area in many different years in the few days before October 31. Further investigation by Detective Chad Archer found missing men in other towns in northern Arizona or nearby parts of California for the years when there were no people reported missing from the Flagstaff area.”
I put up the slide that showed the list of missing men from 1969 to 2014. There were gasps in the room when the number of victims became obvious. I moved on to the chart that showed the last known location of each missing man. Most were in Flagstaff, but there was a clear line of missing individuals leading toward California.
I continued the briefing, not wanting questions at this point. “Friday, November 5, the day of Kevin Riker’s murder, Sheriff Taylor asked Governor Garman for assistance in investigating the wilderness murder site for other bodies. This morning, one hundred members of the Arizona National Guard assisted the Coconino County Sheriff’s office in a complete search of the area around the Sean Murphy murder site.”
I put up the first slide of the bones, taken by the Rescue Squad while hanging above the jumble of human remains. Instead of gasps, there was silence. The whole room was stunned by the magnitude of death it illustrated. “We have not yet disturbed the remains. A team of forensic experts from all over Arizona, led by specialists from the FBI, will investigate the area. From this photo taken from above the pile of human remains, certain things are noteworthy. We are able to see thirty-two human skulls; however, other bones might cover additional skulls. Sheriff Taylor was able to document disappearances back to 1969; however, we are certain that there were disappearances before that date. Those records are stored on microfilm, and we will be investigating them over the coming weeks.”
I pointed to the foot and leg bones of one of the least disturbed skeletons. “You will note the blackened nature of the foot and leg bones on this and other bodies. They are consistent with the method of murder used in the Sean Murphy case. Father Sean was burned to death standing in a steel cage hung from the juniper in the center of this grove of ponderosa pine trees.” I put up the aerial photo of the tree formation. I could hear a woman’s abrupt intake of breath, but no other sounds from the large crowd.
“We are asking anyone who knows the origin of this circular grove of trees to contact the Coconino County Sheriff’s office at 928-555-1946.” I put the slide with the phone number up. There were often people who would help with a critical investigation if they were asked.
“We are also asking that newspapers print a copy of the list of the missing men. We are looking for any information that will help us identify the remains we have found in the Secret Mountain Wilderness.” I put up another slide of the skeletons. “Unfortunately, there are no traces of personal objects, rings, or clothing among the bones. The forensic experts will need to work with dental and DNA evidence if we are to properly identify these victims. I will now take questions. Ladies and gentlemen, there are certain areas of the investigation that must remain confidential; however I’ll do my best to answer your questions.”
A lot of hands went up. It was still difficult to see through the bright lights, but I indicated a reporter that I recognized from a Phoenix TV station in the front row. He stood and said, “Lieutenant Damson, I am baffled as to how these crimes could have gone on this long without attracting more attention. How could more than thirty people be missing and no one noticed?”
“That is a very insightful question Mr. Wadley. Sheriff Taylor has requested an internal review of our procedures regarding missing people. I would comment that the perpetrators, with only one exception, abducted people without close ties to the community. All the known missing, except for Father Sean Murphy, were transients, hitchhikers, homeless men, tourists, or other individuals who might pass through Flagstaff without being known to many others in town. Often the reports of the missing people occurred long after the late October time period when the abductions occurred. The pattern of local abductions was also broken by disappearances that occurred in other jurisdictions. It is only with computerized crime databases that we have been able to fill in some of the missing years. It was Sheriff Taylor’s personal search of the records Thursday night that established the pattern. If Kevin Riker had not found Father Sean’s body before it was discarded, we would still be unaware that numerous murders had been committed over many years.”
Next I called on Meg Hull of the Sedona Red Rock News. “If Father Sean did not fit the pattern, what is your theory about his murder?”
“It is a little too early for us to have a firm opinion, Meg. We believe that Father Sean had a special mission to work with non-Christians in the area. He may have learned something that made him a target. He was the only known victim who came from Sedona. He was also a person who was certain to be missed immediately. Father Sean was a break in the usual pattern of the crimes.”
I did not recognize the next reporter who I called on for a question. I later learned that he was a stringer for the New York Times. An article that was very critical of the local investigation appeared the following day in the Times. He asked in a pedantic nasal voice, “Deputy, how in the world did you guys miss thirty or more bodies while you were at the Sean Murphy crime scene on Monday and Tuesday?”
I smiled, recognizing that he had deliberately demoted me from lieutenant to deputy. He would never get to ask another question in a Coconino County press conference. I responded by putting up an aerial photo of the rock formation that hid the bodies. “This two-hundred foot fragment of the sandstone cliff has broken from the main six-hundred foot rock wall near the crime scene. The area where the skeletons were found is not visible from the air. The skeletons are also not visible from the plateau where the circular grove is located. There is only one five-foot spot along the cliff where the white of the bones can be seen. Even through binoculars, I couldn’t tell if bones were present. It was only when the Sedona Fire Department Rescue Unit repelled into the cleft formed by the wall fragment that the bodies were identified. It appears that the bodies were dropped over the side of the cliff where they would hit this steep slope and fall down into the cleft. Remember, this area is a designated wilderness. It is not inhabited. The plateau is not accessible, except on foot, and not even by foot from November to April because of heavy snow. It was an incredibly easy me
thod of disposing of the bodies. However, the bodies were so well hidden that we were lucky to find them even with a hundred people searching. As I said before, if Kevin Riker had not found Father Sean Murphy’s body before it was tossed over this cliff, we would still be unaware of these crimes.”
I was asked a series of questions about pagans and Druids, but I just responded that we are keeping an open mind and making a careful investigation. I also would not discuss any of the physical evidence that we had found. The questions went on but added little to the public information until I said there is time for one more question. A young woman, who I later learned was with the Arizona Daily Sun, the Flagstaff newspaper, asked if the murderers were believed to be from Flagstaff.
I answered, “Many of the abductions occurred here in Flagstaff, but there also seems to be a California connection. The vehicle that killed Kevin Riker was stolen in LA. There is also a trail of abductions in recent years that seemed to run along the interstate highway between here and LA. At this point, we just do not know the home towns of the perpetrators.”
I left the podium and was followed by a number of reporters who still had questions. I just walked back to the sheriff’s office saying, “Please submit your written questions to the sheriff’s administrative assistant.” I was exhausted from the stressful performance and slumped in a chair in the waiting room until Sheriff Taylor and Chad Archer entered a few minutes later.
CHAPTER 23
The sheriff smiled as he walked over and said, “Thanks, Mike.” He was expressing his appreciation for the credit that I gave him for discovering the crime pattern. He was also thanking me for a good job at the press conference. He motioned for Chad and me to join him in his office.
“Men, we’ve got to solve this damn case,” Sheriff Taylor said. “We must get these vicious shits before they kill again. So many people are involved in the recovery and identification of the bodies at Pagan Point that our time is better spent on other things. The FBI crime lab people are the best in the world. Mike, please give me your assessment of how we can spend our time productively.”
“Sheriff, there’re a number of open, promising matters to investigate. I plan to try to meet with one of the history professors at Northern Arizona University tomorrow. His name is Harvey Stone. I hope he’s willing to meet on a Sunday afternoon. I was told that he often lectures about Druids at pagan conventions.” I regarded the Druid nature of the crimes as the key to solving them.
“There is also a possible connection that Chad noticed with a family named Wood who own a bar down at the south end of Oak Creek Canyon. Their bar has the same name as the pub in which the modern version of Druidry was founded.” I said.
“I still haven’t heard a word from the Jesuits about what Father Sean was reporting to them during his time in Sedona. If he found a grove of Druid priests in the area or a nest of murderous witches, he might have reported it to his superiors. I have a hunch that his writings to the head Jesuit would tell us a lot about how he got targeted by the murderers. There is also a lot of written material we can spend time reviewing about Druid and Wicca history and practice. There are an enormous number of books in Father Sean’s room that might help us find a pattern related to this crime. He had quite a library on pagan practices.” Sheriff Taylor nodded agreement with my proposed course of action.
“We need a rigorous investigation of the tire and boot tracks,” I said. “We found a second set of tracks from a mid size pickup near the Pagan Point murder site. We also found an odd flat tire track from an ATV. We need to trace those tires if we can. The boot print that we found was not a common type. It was a man’s size seven and a half Salomon Contragrip sole. There can’t have been a lot of those expensive boots sold around here.
“Sheriff, I’m sure that there are other leads we should pursue. I’ll make a list tomorrow. We can’t afford to overlook any of them. Let’s all three of us write down the ones we can think of. We’ll put them all together in a formal investigation priority list.”
“Good suggestions Mike,” the sheriff said. He used the word “suggestion” to remind me he was the boss and making the final decisions.
There was something that I had dreaded all day even more than the press conference. “My wife has invited the Riker family to stay at our house.” Chad and Sheriff Taylor looked surprised. I said, “Damn, I dread going home. How the hell do I explain my failure to protect their only son? I was stupid not to realize that the murderers might want revenge. Guys, I need to go home and face them.”
“Mike,” the sheriff said, “It does no good to second guess what we might have done. The best thing you can do for the Riker family is to bring closure for them by catching the person who killed their son.”
Chad and I drove back to Sedona. I was able to reach Professor Stone on the cell phone. He agreed to meet with us at his office on campus at 3:30 Sunday afternoon. After the call, it was a quiet drive. Chad sensed my mood and did not try to force a conversation. I dropped him off at his car, and we agreed to meet at 1:00 at the office tomorrow. Sunday afternoon, we’d drop in on the Wood family. After talking to the Woods, we’d go up to Flagstaff to meet Professor Stone. After our meeting at the college, we’d meet Sheriff Taylor at his office.
I was glad that the press conference was behind me, but I had an even more stressful evening ahead. The Rikers of Honey Grove, Texas would want to know why their son was dead at age twenty-two.
CHAPTER 24
I drove home slowly, feeling the stress of the coming meeting with Kevin’s parents. When I entered the kitchen through the door to the garage, I saw Margaret and the Rikers sitting at the kitchen table having coffee.
Margaret rose from the table and hugged me, and asked, “Are you OK?” Margaret understood my feelings. She led me to the table like a child at his first day at school, and introduced me to Marilyn and Arthur Riker.
Arthur was as thin as a mop topped with fox gray hair. He was dressed in a navy blue suit two sizes too large and a solid light blue tie. He looked like he might have recently undergone chemotherapy. The six-footer seemed ill at ease in the business attire. He did not extend a hand to shake. Arthur Riker said, “How do you do?” It was a formal, reserved greeting.
Marilyn Riker extended her hand and said, “Pleased to meet you Mike. Thanks for the nice things you said about Kevin. We saw the press conference on TV.” She was about five’ five” and also thin. She was dressed as if she were going to church. Her hair was much too brown for her age and she showed the wrinkles of a long-term smoker. Her most striking features were her vivid blue eyes, red and swollen from crying. She was on the verge of more tears but putting up a stoic front. Both of the Rikers had a much stronger rural Texas accent than their son.
There was an awkward pause as I searched for the right words to say to these people. Margaret and I also had only one son, and I could imagine what the death of an only child on the verge of his adult life would have done to our lives.
In a raspy voice I said, “I’m sorry that I did not have the wisdom and foresight to protect your son. There is nothing I can do to ease your loss. I can only offer my condolences and promise that I will never rest until I find who killed that fine young man. I can assure you that Kevin saved many lives. Without his good citizenship in quickly reporting the Father Sean Murphy murder, there might have been many more victims in future years. Kevin put a stop to a fifty history of torture and murder. The only comfort I can hope to give you is a sense of closure when we bring the murderers to justice.” I finished, knowing the inadequacy of anything I could say.
Marilyn Riker said, “Thank you.” Arthur Riker was silent. Margaret filled the pause with an invitation to start dinner. She was going to serve on the deck under the propane heaters. Margaret only used our dining room in blizzards or 100-degree weather. She thought her dinners tasted better under the stars. There was a full moon peeking over the sandstone formations of Twin Buttes east of our neighborhood. Margaret had put a dozen candles o
n the table. Their light showed one of Margaret’s standing rib roasts and half a dozen other dishes. It was Margaret’s way of dealing with grief. The meal was one of the best Margaret had ever prepared.
During dinner, I explained every bit of the evidence that we’d found. I covered the little we knew about modern Druids and Sedona’s Wiccans. I didn’t mention the Wood family by name, but I said that there were some possible connections to a local family. I also said that we were hopeful of learning more about what Father Sean had been working on during his stay in Sedona.
Arthur Riker asked a couple of pointed questions, but otherwise did not have anything to say. Marilyn was more talkative. I learned that they had arranged for a Flagstaff funeral home to drive the body back to Honey Grove for burial. The funeral would be at the Baptist church, which five generations of Rikers had attended. Marilyn and Arthur planned to ride in the hearse as the body was driven the thousand miles back to east Texas. I thought that was a bad idea, but I did not feel I could comment about it. It was a wonderful meal, but the flavor of Margaret’s excellent food was dulled by grief.
Sunday morning, I woke early and went to the kitchen to make coffee. I found Arthur Riker sitting in the dark at the kitchen table. When I said good morning, Arthur said, “I couldn’t sleep.”
I made coffee and set some in front of Arthur asking, “Do you take cream or sugar?”
Arthur looked at me as if he had noticed me for the first time. I had interrupted his black thoughts with my question. Arthur said with a nod at my question, “Yes, Mike, I like milk or half and half.”
He had used my name for the first time since we met. I was encouraged that there might be a chance to communicate. I got out the half and half and sat down across from him. “Kevin was a fine young man,” I said. “You and Marilyn must have been wonderful parents. Tell me about Kevin’s childhood in Honey Grove. I had not heard of the town before I met Kevin.”
The Dead Priest of Sedona Page 11
