Sonoran Sun

by Sharon Canipe

  Chris took the paper from her and reviewed the article. “They’ve arrested Sam Stevens. He’s that guy from Superior, the group wanting to build at Avra Valley. That’s the guy I told you about who threatened Dave Jennings. Said he was going to see that the project was shutdown. He was apparently working with Doug Davison’s group. He even suggested that Mark Garcia wasn’t to be trusted either.” He finished reading the article and then passed the paper to Neal who, in turn, shared it with Lin.

  “I guess having an arrest made is a good sign,” Neal remarked. “Maybe the investigation at the site is mostly done and they’ve moved on to building the case. This is good news. Things should move forward quickly if we can get our work with the tribe lined up.”

  Lin read the article carefully. The earlier threats against Jennings and the Lancer project seemed to be the thing that led authorities to arrest young Sam Stevens. The Chief Deputy, Ben Ramirez, who was leading the investigation, was quoted as saying there’d been witnesses to his verbal threats and his truck had been identified as parked near the scene of the crime on the morning of the murder. “While the investigation continues,” Ramirez was quoted as saying, “we believe we have the perpetrator of this heinous crime in custody. Hopefully, work at the site will resume soon.”

  The article went on to indicate that Sam Stevens would appear before a judge on Monday when he would likely be charged. Apparently, he had requested that counsel be appointed for him as his employer, Superior Group, had indicated that they would not contribute to his defense. In fact, the company appeared to be washing their hands of him, claiming that they were engaged in friendly competition where the development was concerned, and he was evidently operating entirely on his own. They had issued a strong statement denying any knowledge of the threats Stevens had supposedly made.

  A photo, showing a dejected Stevens dressed in western style garb being led into the county jail by deputies, accompanied the article. Lin recalled Chris’s description of Stevens dressed as an ersatz cowboy and approaching Jennings with a swagger in his manner. There was no swagger left in the man in this photograph.

  ***

  The drive to the tribal offices in the small community of Sells took about an hour and twenty minutes. They traveled across the desert west of the city. Rugged mountains provided a backdrop for the arid lands they crossed. Already the day was growing quite warm and from time to time the wind kicked up a series of dust devils, small tornados of dust that formed and danced across the open desert then dissipated almost as fast as they appeared. The landscape was fascinating to Lin and she could easily see how the desert had a magically quality for its people and how the mountains were sacred places in their culture. She wanted to learn more and especially wanted to make sure they had time to visit the mission at San Xavier that was located just south of the city and was still home to a school for local children. Perhaps they might have time after this visit.

  As they turned onto the street where the tribal government offices were located, they realized that there was some sort of demonstration going on in front of the building. About twenty or thirty people were marching back and forth carrying signs that touted slogans such as “Preserve our Past,” “Say No to Shopping,” “Respect the Ancestors.” The protesters were of various ages, most were native but there were a few anglos in the group. They were peaceful, marching quietly back and forth.

  They parked their car and headed toward the offices. As they approached the group on the sidewalk a young man dressed in worn jeans, an old tee shirt, and carrying a megaphone stepped forward and blocked their path.

  “You must be the archeology team,” he was smiling but made no effort to afford them passage to the entrance. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Doug Davison and we are here to make sure your meeting this morning furthers the cause of these good people.” He gestured toward the demonstrators.

  Chris offered his hand in polite greeting. “Good to meet you Mr. Davison, we’ve heard about your group and I believe the Lancer corporation is making plans to meet with officials concerning how they might be able to help your cause. We are simply under contract to conduct the excavation and repatriation of our findings. We’re not involved in any decisions the tribe might wish to make regarding how to share this history. Our meeting this morning simply concerns our work going forward. I would suggest that you plan to get together with those who will actually make future decisions…” Chris was cut off at that point as Davison raised his megaphone and turned to the assembled group, “ Stop the Mall!” he yelled, exhorting his followers to chime in. It took a few minutes but others eventually joined the chorus. The other protestors had moved to border the sidewalk so there was no easy passage for the three of them to the building. The crowd wasn’t violent or scary but Lin still felt somewhat intimidated. She was relieved when a couple of tribal officers appeared.

  “Let them come in,” one of the officers spoke firmly. “ You can continue your protest but you cannot block access to the offices.” Doug Davison didn’t move but some of the others began to back away, affording the three of them a clear path to the building.

  As they approached the front door, Davison called after them angrily, “We are the people, the tribe will have to listen to the people. We’re not going to let you build that monstrosity on top of our ancestral home. We will shut you down! We will shut you down!” He tried to get the group in chorus once more but only a few voices joined his cry.

  Lin felt relieved when the outer door shut behind them and they found themselves in the simply furnished reception area for the tribal offices. A smiling middle-aged woman greeted them from a desk behind the counter, indicating that they should have a seat.

  “Dr. Manuel will be with you shortly,” she said, “can I get you some coffee or maybe a soda?”

  Chris and Neal declined, but Lin welcomed the offer. After the drive out there and the less than warm welcome she thought a cup of coffee would be relaxing. The AC in the office was running full tilt and it was actually a bit on the cool side in her opinion. She also felt a need to use the facilities so she inquired about the restroom.

  “Right back here, just follow me, it’s next to our break room,” the receptionist led the way down a short hallway. “The bathroom is just past our break room,” the woman indicated, “I’ll be in here getting your coffee.”

  Lin felt more comfortable when she entered the break room a few moments later. Seated at one of the round tables was a slightly built older woman who appeared to have been crying. She sipped on her own cup of coffee as she silently dabbed at a few stray tears that graced her sun-browned cheeks. The receptionist handed Lin a steaming mug of fresh coffee, then turned to the woman.

  “I hope you’re feeling better now, Mrs. Garcia,” she put her arm around the woman’s thin shoulders. “When you’re ready to go, I’ll be happy to walk you out to meet your daughter, past all those folks outside.”

  Mrs. Garcia smiled a thin smile and nodded at the offer, “Maybe in a few minutes. Can I just sit here for a while? Til I finish my coffee?”

  “Certainly,” the receptionist replied, “just come by my desk when you’re ready to go.” She turned to Lin, “I think I heard the gentlemen go down to Dr. Manuel’s office, I’ll show you the way…”

  “Thanks,” Lin quickly said, “but I really just came along for the ride. Chris and Neal are the ones that need to meet with him. I’ll just wait and enjoy my coffee.” She really wanted to find out if the older woman was related to Mark Garcia, the victim in this crime. This was much more interesting to her than the issue of when Chris and Neal could get back to work. She pulled out a chair, “Do you mind if I join you here?” She asked the woman with a smile.

  “No, no,” Mrs. Garcia, “responded. That’s fine, please sit down.” She lapsed back into silence as Lin sat down and began drinking her own coffee, but it appeared that her tears were now dry.

  Lin didn’t want to disturb this woman’s peace, but she was also very curious as to h
er identity. She’d noted that the receptionist had called her Mrs. Garcia. Lin knew that might be a very common name in this community; however, it could also mean that she was connected in some way to the victim in this case. She decided there was only one way to find out.

  “My name is Lin Hanna,” she ventured to introduce herself, “I’m here with the archeologists who are working at the construction site for that new shopping mall. My fiancé is one of those helping with the excavation of the archeological site. He’s here to see when they might be able to get back to work.” She sat back, took another sip of coffee, and waited to see if the other woman would respond.

  Mrs. Garcia sat quietly for several more minutes. The two women sipped their coffee in companionable silence. Finally, the older woman spoke. Her tone was quiet and measured, as if she were exercising control over her emotions. “Then they would’ve known my son Mark. He’s the one who died up there at that place—they found him yesterday—he was shot.” A stray tear threatened to disrupt her calm demeanor. She hastily wiped it away and swallowed hard.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lin responded. “ I never met Mark but Neal and Chris spoke very highly of him and his work for the tribe”

  “Mark loved his job,” Mrs. Garcia almost smiled, “he was working on his degree at the university. He wanted to be an archeologist himself—someday. I was so proud of him—he’d come so far since his…problems,” she hesitated over this last remark and quickly dropped the topic. Lin decided to move the conversation in another direction.

  “I saw in the paper that the police have already arrested someone they think committed the crime. This may come to a quick conclusion,” Lin added. Mrs. Garcia looked up quickly. It was clear this was the first she’d heard of Sam Stevens’s arrest.

  “Really,” she remarked. “…they got Mendoza?”

  Lin was surprised. Mrs. Garcia apparently felt that she knew who was responsible for her son’s murder. “I believe the paper said the man they arrested was named Sam Stevens. He works for a competing developer and I think he had made some threats at the site.”

  Mrs. Garcia seemed embarrassed. She wore a puzzled expression but she said nothing more. She got up, put her now empty cup on the counter and turned toward the door, “It was good to meet you Ms. Hanna, I’ve got to get home now.” With that she was gone, leaving Lin to wonder just who this Mendoza character she mentioned was and what connection there was to Mark Garcia. It was certainly clear that Mrs. Garcia had no intention of sharing any more information.

  Lin heard Neal and Chris talking to someone in the reception area and hurried back to join them.

  “We wondered where you’d run off to?” Neal smiled, “Come meet Dr. Manuel. He’s Director of Cultural Resources for the Tohono O o’dham Nation.” Lin extended her hand to the tall, slender man who approached her with a smile. His long dark hair was held in a ponytail at the back of his neck and he was dressed casually in jeans and a short-sleeved sport shirt. “Glad to meet you Ms. Hanna. I understand you’ve agreed to assist with the site recovery while you’re here.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Lin smiled. “Who knows, I might even learn something about archeology in the process.”

  Chris Dawkins spoke up at that point. “I guess we’d better get going so that you can meet with these protestors. We’ll meet you at the construction site tomorrow morning. We plan to get there early and get some work done before the day gets too hot.”

  “I’ll be there as early as I can manage,” Manuel replied, “feel free to get started if you arrive ahead of me. All I need is to review what you are doing. I feel confident everything will be OK. I’m more concerned with trying to dissuade these folks outside from conducting demonstrations at the site. I’m afraid they may be more interested in publicity than actual preservation, but we’ll see what we can do about that.”

  As they began the drive back toward Tucson, Lin was deep in thought. She was eager to share her conversation with Mark Garcia’s mother, but at the same time, she was reluctant to bring the subject up. The woman’s quick conclusion that the person arrested must’ve been someone named Mendoza raised questions. Had Mark Garcia been in some kind of trouble—something involving this “Mendoza” whoever he was? Had the authorities even talked to the Garcia family seeking information about his activities, any enemies he might have? Lin seriously doubted that Mrs. Garcia had been contacted by anyone from the sheriff’s department. If they had made contact she would surely have known about the arrest. Lin really wished she could talk to the woman again and she felt that, somehow, she had to find a way to let the authorities know that Garcia had an enemy—at least in the eyes of his mother.

  Chris and Neal were deeply engaged in conversation concerning how they planned to proceed with work at the site the following day, so Lin decided this was not a good time to share what she had learned. She would certainly talk to Neal later, Chris too if she got the opportunity. She was interested in their thoughts. Of course, this Mendoza fellow might just be someone Mark had had a disagreement with. The death had occurred at the construction site, and logically, it seemed to be related to that situation somehow. After all, the Stevens fellow had threatened to shut the project down and a murder was a pretty good way to at least cause delays and bring bad publicity. Still Lin couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to be learned about this story. She had a gut feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye. Somehow, she felt that the investigators needed to talk to Mrs. Garcia. It seemed important to her, and she determined that she would try to find a way to ensure that happened.

  ***

  It was past midday by the time they arrived back in Tucson. The temperature was already into triple digits and the sky was a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight to offer the relief of showers later. Chris suggested going by the site to check on the situation with the investigation. Neal objected, “It’s too hot to do anything Chris, even if the sheriff’s men have finished. Let’s just get up early tomorrow and try to get several good hours before the temperature gets too high. Right now, I just want to find a cool spot to relax.”

  No one was hungry; they’d had a fair-sized breakfast so it was decided that they would go their separate ways for the remainder of the afternoon and meet later to go for dinner. “I know a great place downtown that you’ll love,” Chris said. “I’ll pick you up at the casita and we can drive down together. It’ll be cooler when the sun goes down. By the way, there’s a neighborhood pool and you’ll find the key to the gate inside one of the kitchen cabinets, hanging on the door. It’s only a couple of blocks away from your place, if you care to have a swim. I might see you there but I think I’ll do a bit of shopping first. I’m about out of groceries and stuff myself. Otherwise, I’ll be by about seven-thirty—maybe quarter to eight.”

  “I’m not sure what we’ll do this afternoon,” Neal responded, “but we’ll be ready to go when you come by.” Chris gave him a knowing look, grinning and rolling his eyes as he drove off.

  A blast of cooled air greeted them as they came into the casita. “It’s easy to understand why people here try to get their outdoor activities done either early or late during the summer months,” Lin commented as she kicked off her shoes. She let her hot bare feet rest against the cool floor tiles as she flopped onto the sofa, “ The pool might be nice though, if there’s any shade there.”

  “There is,” Neal responded, “there’s a large covered patio area on one side where it’s quite comfortable to sit—especially when you’re wet…but we could also stay right here in the AC and…” Lin didn’t let him go any further, “great idea,” she smiled at the thought, “but let’s go down and do a few laps in the pool first—we need the exercise—besides I have something I want to talk to you about, something I learned this morning.” She jumped up and went into the bedroom to change. Neal followed and soon they were headed down to the pool area.

  In spite of the heat, they decided to walk the two-block distanc
e. By the time they arrived at the pool they were more than ready to douse themselves in the cool water. They were the only folks there and Lin enjoyed swimming laps without having to avoid bumping into others. Neal joined her and they swam quietly side by side for several minutes. It felt good to get the kinks out and to feel the cool water flowing over her body. Lin determined that she would try to come to the pool as often as she could while they were there. It’s the best exercise possible in this heat, she thought.

  Finally, they were happy to stop swimming and head for the lounge chairs that were tucked away in the shade of the covered patio area. The air temperature was several degrees cooler there and Lin almost felt chilly when she first sat down. That didn’t last long though. The dry desert air quickly sucked the moisture away from her body, and her swimsuit seemed to be drying rapidly. Still, it was tolerable in the shade and she wanted to talk to Neal. They were both relaxed and there were still no other people around so this seemed a good place to share what she had learned.

  “I spoke with Mark Garcia’s mother this morning,” Lin ventured.

  “Really,” Neal was curious, “ I didn’t see anyone else at the tribal offices, other than the demonstrators outside that is.”

  Lin explained that she had met Mrs. Garcia in the break room when she was having coffee. “Evidently she’d been there talking to someone, maybe Dr. Manuel, earlier. She was upset and I think the receptionist had given her some coffee and a place to rest for a bit before she had to face the gauntlet outside. Anyway, she was there and I met her.” Lin went on to explain that it appeared Mrs. Garcia didn’t know anyone had been arrested in the case.

  “The surprising thing is that when I told her there’d been an arrest she evidently jumped to the conclusion that the suspect was someone named Mendoza!” Lin remarked.