by Aimée Thurlo
Silence followed as the boys stared at the sawtooth grooves near the upper edge of the blade, right below the hasp.
“My warrior ancestors did some crazy things to earn the notches on their flint blades. These days our daggers are tempered steel, so the work’s easier now. Progress, huh?” he added with a sadistic grin.
The boys stepped away and looked over at Chico.
“We’re done here,” Ramirez said, kicking his dropped knife toward one of the other boys, who stooped and picked it up.
In a flurry of movement the boys scattered, running in several directions. As they did, the injured teen on the ground slowly got to his knees and wiped the blood off his cheek with his sleeve.
“Don’t move,” Valerie ordered, crouching next to the injured boy and noting the swelling just below his left eye. “I’ll call the paramedics.”
“No. It’ll make things worse.” With effort he stood. Waving away her offer of a helping hand, he leaned against the side rail of the loading dock, catching his breath.
“What’s your name?” Valerie asked.
“Joe Chavez,” he managed, his breathing raspy.
“What happened?” Valerie asked him.
“Getting ranked in means you’ve got to be tested and prove you’ve got what it takes.”
“You should come up with a better future for yourself—one that’ll keep you out of the morgue and/or jail.” Seeing the way he was holding his side, she softened her tone and added, “You really should let me call the paramedics. Another kick and you’d have lost an eye. And your ribs might be broken.”
“I can take it. The Skulls need me—someone who can slip in and out of places without being seen.”
Valerie picked up on his tone of voice and decided to play a hunch. “Okay, just what did you see that’s so important?”
He hesitated.
“Hey. You owe us one,” Luca said, then added in a slow voice, “Gang members on the Rez honor things like that. It’s the mark of a man.”
Valerie glanced at Luca, biting back a reply. Good ol’ boy ethics always made her gag. Yet as she looked back at the boy, she realized that Luca was getting through to him.
“If you want, we can take you into custody. That should impress your crew,” Luca added.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “But how about just cuffing me for a while, then letting me go when we’re done? I’ve got to get cleaned up and go to work. Deal?”
“You’ve got it, kid,” Valerie said, bringing out her handcuffs. As she secured his hands behind his back, the boy groaned loudly.
“You okay?” Valerie asked him instantly.
“Yeah, just making it look good,” he whispered as she turned him around. “You never know who’s watching.”
“Okay, Joe. We’ve played along. Now it’s your turn,” Valerie said.
“This is Skulls turf, and around here nobody does anything to disrespect that,” he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “But one night about a week ago, I got off work late and saw this weird-looking man wandering around. He was carrying one of those folding shovels—the old G.I. kind like my granddad has. I decided to follow him and saw him go to the empty lot behind the apartment building. We all have stuff there, but this guy wasn’t from our hood, and he sure wasn’t acting right.”
Valerie shook her head. “Slow down. You’re losing me. What’s the deal with the empty lot?”
“It started a few years ago when Mrs. Sanchez’s Chihuahua died. She loved that old dog and didn’t want to just dump it in the trash, but she lived in the apartments up the street. So she buried it in the empty lot behind there and put a cross on the grave. Then Allison Perea’s cat got run over, and it went there, too. Pretty soon the whole place was like a pet cemetery. Even the Skulls have animals there. Chico’s pit bull was buried there last month.”
“So you told Chico what you’d seen—which was what?” Valerie pressed.
“Someone not from our hood digging up the old graves, then burying everything back again. Is that nuts or what? At first I thought he was robbing graves, but for what—dog collars?” He shrugged. “It made no sense, but the dude came back two nights in a row.”
“So what was he taking—body parts?” Luca asked.
“Beats me. He’d uncover the skeletons, reach in then bury the whole thing again. After I told Chico about it, he had us staking out the cemetery. We caught him at it, but before we could grab the guy, he took off. I’ve never seen anyone run so fast in my life. Nobody even got close.”
“Have you seen him since?” Valerie asked.
The boy shook his head.
“What was the guy wearing?” Luca asked him.
“A baggy sweatshirt and jeans.”
“Did you ever see his face?” Valerie pressed.
Joe shook his head. “That was the weird part. The guy kept the hood on, even when he was digging. All I can tell you for sure is that he was bigger than me, maybe your size,” he said, indicating Luca.
“Thanks,” Valerie said, then brought out her business card.
“Drop it on the ground,” he said, “in case somebody is still watching. And shove me around a little before you take off the cuffs, okay?”
“Glad to help, Joe. Just give me a call if you think of anything else,” Valerie added, then shoved him back against the wall, spun him around roughly and removed the cuffs.
“Take off, punk!” she snapped loudly.
He mad dogged her a second, cringing from the bump beside his eye, then opened the door to the restaurant and ducked inside.
As he disappeared from view, Luca turned around slowly.
Valerie tensed up immediately. “What’s up?”
“We’re being watched. Can’t you feel it?”
Automatically, she reached down and unsnapped the holster strap that kept her gun in place. “By now everyone knows we’re cops and we’re here asking questions. It’s not unusual for people in high-crime areas to start watching us. Neighbors call other neighbors, warning them.”
“It’s not just curiosity. It’s something…more.”
“Then let’s walk a bit,” she said, not liking the prospect of becoming a stationary target. “Maybe they’ll show themselves.”
In some inner-city neighborhoods, Valerie knew that people scattered or turned away when the police were about, many times simply in fear of looking like an informant and becoming a victim of retaliation. She peered into the shadows around the buildings and, taking a page from Luca’s book, looked at the pigeons. Nothing.
Luca fell into step beside her and they went down the now-deserted sidewalk. Five minutes later they arrived at a small park beside a busy street. Ahead they saw a mounted police officer she recognized as Tim Murphy. Valerie walked over and smiled, petting the horse. “Hey, Murph. And how you doing, Dr. Pepper?” she asked the horse softly.
Murphy dismounted and joined them on foot. “More trouble?” he asked, keeping his voice low, watching the park and not the street beside him.
“Not so far,” Valerie answered in an equally soft voice. “But what are you doing here? Don’t you normally patrol that big park over by Veteran’s Hospital?”
Hearing the sounds of unusually heavy traffic, she turned her head and looked up and down the street. “Something going on today?” she asked.
“Some Washington hotshots are giving some foreign guests a tour of the base and the labs, and they’re going to be coming out the Truman gate. Their route will take them down this way. That’s why Pepper and I are here—lending support to the motorcade by watching for troublemakers.” He glanced around. “But nothing’s scheduled to begin for another hour. I’m going to get myself a soft drink at Tamura’s.” He motioned toward a mom-and-pop grocery store just north of the park, which occupied less than a city block. “You want one?”
“No, thanks.”
Officer Murphy led the horse over to the park sign, then tied the reins loosely to the metal post. He waved to Valerie, then jog
ged off toward the store.
Valerie turned to Luca, who was still gazing off into the distance, back in the direction they’d come. “You’re starting to creep me out. What’s bothering you? Are we being followed again?”
To the south, beside another small park adjacent to an elementary school, a man was coiling a length of chain that had just been used to tow a broken-down car. He dropped the chain into the bed of a pickup with a thunk, then walked over to the hood of the car where another man was working on the engine.
“Don’t look now, but we’re being watched from across the street,” Luca said in a whisper. “I saw a flash—like maybe from binoculars—behind that purple plum tree next to the gas station.”
Valerie turned slowly, looking up as a passenger jet from the airport to the south roared into the sky. Casually turning east, she spotted a shape beside the ornamental tree. In an instant the person turned away, put something into a large bag then strode away briskly in the opposite direction.
Assuming Luca would be right behind her, Valerie sprinted across the four-lane thoroughfare and raced down the residential street. She was running as fast as she could but had been unable to see anything except the back of the man trying to get away. At the moment, he was gaining ground on her and it looked like he might get away.
Hearing the sound of galloping hooves approaching from behind, she turned her head. “Catch him, Murph!” she called out.
Valerie suddenly realized the rider wasn’t Murphy. It was Luca, and his eyes were locked on their fleeing suspect.
Chapter Eight
Valerie veered to the side, giving Luca and his mount plenty of room. The suspect heard the hoofbeats approaching, swerved back toward the street then cut back between parked cars onto a lawn.
Glancing back over his shoulder, the man missed seeing the sprinkler on the lawn. He tripped and fell facedown onto the wet grass, sliding for several feet.
Luca reined in Pepper, slowing to a trot and circling around the man on the grass, blocking his way. “Stay down,” Luca ordered, “or get stomped. Your choice.”
“No problem, man. I’m too tired to run anymore,” the man groaned, rolling onto his back and extending his arms out away from his body.
Pepper, a seasoned officer, stopped and held his ground as Luca dismounted.
“Hold it right there, buddy,” Valerie said, running up to cover Luca, her pistol pointed at the suspect. The man looked vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t place him.
“No need for the gun, I’m unarmed and I’m not going anywhere,” the man said, still breathing hard. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have run, but give me a break. I’m working on a story here.”
He sat up, brushing wet leaves and blades of grass off his sports jacket. “You’re the police, after a killer—I’m a reporter, after the story.”
“Let’s see your press credentials,” Valerie snapped. “Slowly.”
As the man reached into his jacket pocket, Valerie saw Luca watching the man’s eyes, ready to step in. Her partner’s gaze revealed absolutely nothing, and coupled with that unearthly stillness of his, Luca came across as a walking danger zone.
Valerie took the man’s wallet and, brushing away some slender, wiry leaves, looked inside. “Stephen Browning. The name sounds familiar, but I don’t see any press card or ID here,” she said. “Nothing but a university ID and parking permit.”
Valerie relaxed slightly, tossing the wallet over to Luca. Now she remembered where she’d seen him. He’d come into the anthropology office when they’d been there. As she put her gun away, Valerie also noted that he was taller than Hooded Shirt.
“The guy who came into the anthropology office while we were there. Steve, right?” Luca confirmed.
“I teach journalism at the college,” he said. “My name’s Stephen Browning. You recognize me from television now?”
She shook her head.
“Sure you do! I used to cover the news for Channel 13 until I was arrested inside the gate at the base. Some nonsense about needing a pass—I was a reporter, for Pete’s sake. A C-130 had crashed on takeoff and rumor had it that it was carrying radioactive materials. Of course there was a big cover-up, and I got caught in the middle. In order to keep me from the real story, base security locked me up for twenty-four hours. They dropped the charges the next day, but by then the news was all over the local channels. And lucky me, I got fired for just trying to do my job.”
Now she remembered. Officially, Browning had gotten caught trying to sneak onto the base. “If you’re teaching journalism these days, what are you doing here?”
“Proving I’ve still got what it takes to break a big story,” he answered instantly. “I follow my gut and do whatever it takes to get to the truth. That lead article in today’s paper was mine. I didn’t get the byline yet, but I’ll earn that soon enough.”
“Why did you run when we spotted you tailing us?” Luca asked, holding on to the reins of the horse and stroking its neck gently.
“I was afraid I’d get arrested. I’ve been following you two for a while. But here’s the deal. This story’s mine, and I’m not backing off. Arrest me if you want. I’ve got a lawyer.”
“How did you come up with all the details of the crime scene?” Valerie pressed. “You seem very knowledgeable—almost too much so,” she added, an edge to her voice.
“I’m not the killer if that’s what you’re thinking, but I do have top-notch sources,” he said, his voice flat.
“I wonder how your Navajo sources would feel if they knew you were hanging around the dead,” Luca said, shutting Browning’s wallet and handing it back to him.
“How do you know my sources are Navajo?” Browning asked, his eyes narrowed.
“I’m not wrong,” Luca responded.
“Give me a reason not to throw you in jail for interfering with a criminal investigation,” Valerie said. “We know you were at the second crime scene before we arrived.” It had been a shot in the dark, but his reaction told her she’d scored a direct hit.
“Look, just so you know I’m on your side, I’m going to give you a freebie,” he said, not admitting or denying the allegation. “Lea Begay’s best friend is a woman by the name of Mae Nez. She lives up in Tijeras Canyon.”
Luca nodded once, his face impassive, and didn’t comment. Valerie followed his lead, waiting but not saying a word. Not speaking seemed to spur Browning into making conversation. Maybe it was because television reporters were often natural extroverts and valued speaking—and being the center of attention—over listening.
“Mae knew Lea really well. She’s your best bet if you want to get to know more about the second victim.” He looked at Valerie, then at Luca. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
“Okay, thanks for the tip,” Valerie said, nodding once. “But here’s a heads-up for you, Browning. If you’re going to tail an officer, don’t hide in the shadows. Stay out in the open, and never—ever—run from us.”
“Okay, but just so we’re clear, I’ll be right behind you guys every step of the way on this, so get used to it. You can’t arrest me for sharing the same space.”
“True—to a point. But trespass onto a crime scene or tamper with evidence and you’ll be looking at jail time,” she warned.
“I hear you.” His gaze fastened on Luca, who hadn’t said a word. “Man, you need to work on your people skills.”
When Luca continued to look at him, Browning backed up a step then hurried away in the direction of the park.
They headed back after that, Luca leading Dr. Pepper this time. Valerie glanced over at him. “Those long silences of yours are really effective in police work,” Valerie said. “You’ll have to teach me that technique. No—never mind. I don’t think I could pull it off. It’s just not my style.”
His mouth twitched but he never cracked a smile as they walked down the residential street.
“What made you so sure Browning’s sources are Navajo?” she asked.
&n
bsp; “Remember when he took his wallet out and you brushed away those leaves?”
“Yeah, the guy slid halfway across the lawn. So what?”
“Those didn’t just come from the grass. I recognized the plant. My guess is that they spilled out of a medicine bundle that a Navajo woman gave him. It’s not a common plant to carry around and has special significance. That’s what tipped me off.”
She waited for him to continue, but as the seconds ticked by she just couldn’t stand it anymore. “You give new meaning to the term silent type. Are you planning to tell me the rest before nightfall?” she prodded with a grin.
He chuckled softly. “Everybody expects instant answers, like a television game show. Faster isn’t always smarter. In the city, there’s way too much talking and not enough thinking.”
She could have argued the point. Her biggest problem was that every time she was alone with Luca, her thoughts became X-rated.
“The leaves were from the yucca plant, the state flower, by the way. Our creation stories say that the Holy Beings rubbed yucca over the hearts of Man and Woman and that’s what caused them to fall in love.”
“Handy little plant,” she said with a playful smile.
A few seconds later Murphy came jogging up to meet them. He gave Luca a surprised look. “I’ve got to hand it to you. You sure have a way around horses. I’m surprised Pepper didn’t buck you off. He has a tendency to do that to riders he doesn’t know.”
“I’ve never had problems with horses. We always seem to connect,” he said, handing the officer the reins.
“I just spoke to a kid inside the grocery store. What’s this about some notches on your knife?” Murphy asked.
“So the news is spreading fast, huh? I guess this is how reputations get started,” Luca said, chuckling but not answering directly.
When Valerie and Luca finally reached the car, Valerie started to ask him about the story behind the notches. Just then, a call came in from the station. She spoke hurriedly, then, closing the phone, glanced over at him.
