Death Chant

by Vella Munn

  “He probably left,” Jay said. “Gilsdorf’s cabin was broken into and a number of things taken. That’s our immediate concern. Why are you asking about Booth?”

  “That’s personal. What’s missing?”

  When Jay didn’t respond, she explained that some of the items were library property.

  “I trust Booth has a list of what’s missing,” Dr. Wilheim said. “Hopefully, it wasn’t the oral histories.”

  So Dr. Wilheim knew about them. She supposed Doc could have told him, but it didn’t seem likely. Perhaps he’d learned about the histories from Booth.

  “I’d love to see them,” she admitted.

  “The contents aren’t your concern,” Dr. Wilheim said. “I understand your feelings where Anthony is concerned. The two of you had a unique relationship, one I didn’t entirely approve of. But he’s dead. You have a job to do. It isn’t here.”

  “Even if she wanted to leave,” Jay said, “she can’t. I thought she made that clear.”

  Dr. Wilheim snorted. “Your hostility doesn’t surprise me, Mr. Raven. I warned Anthony he’d have his work cut out for him trying to win the Natives over.”

  She’d never been sure whether Dr. Wilheim was arrogant or simply insensitive. Didn’t he realize his attitude would antagonize Jay?

  “Winter,” Dr. Wilheim said. “You can’t possibly comprehend the complexity of this situation. Neither did Anthony. He was so focused on uncovering obscure and unimportant settlements that he didn’t get the bigger picture. I attempted to warn him he was in over his head, believing he could get the Natives to cooperate. I learned that lesson years ago while doing fieldwork with the Cheyenne.”

  She didn’t care what Dr. Wilheim had to say. She wasn’t sure she ever would again. Right now, it took all her self-control not to scream that her friend had been murdered. Didn’t Dr. Wilheim feel the slightest bit of loss?

  How would he react if she told him that Doc had gotten his hands on a priceless artifact—and it was in her car trunk?

  “I’m sorry we haven’t been properly introduced.” Dr. Wilheim extended his hand toward Jay. “You’re Native American? The lighting could be better.”

  Jay closed his fingers around Dr. Wilheim’s. “Hoh.”

  Dr. Wilheim pulled free. “So you’re both Native and a ranger. Is there a conflict of interest? I want to learn everything I can about those in a position of influence here. I’ll admit, my time with the Cheyenne would have been more fruitful if I’d known that then.”

  Dr. Wilheim had spent not quite three months with the Cheyenne. Afterward, he’d written articles for academic journals. She’d been struck by how superficial the pieces were. Doc had told her that, in part, was why Dr. Wilheim’s grant proposal had been rejected.

  “So.” Dr. Wilheim drew out the word. “It appears there isn’t anyone I can talk to tonight.”

  What about me? Don’t you want to know what happened to Doc?

  “Law enforcement is here,” Jay said.

  “Of course, and I do need to be informed of the status of the investigation. However, I doubt they’ll be in a position to tell me anything of importance for a while.” He stretched. “Winter, where are you staying?”

  “Here.”

  “Hmm. Tomorrow we will talk about your return to the university.”

  University. The word and world it represented had become foreign to her. In contrast, the forest represented something she needed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “How can you stand to work for him?”

  Winter watched Dr. Wilheim’s departing car until she could no longer see it. “I don’t have a choice. The administration assigned me to him.”

  “Now there’s my idea of the perfect suspect,” Jay said. “Lock him up and throw away the keys so we don’t have to put up with him.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “About thinking he could have killed Dr. Gilsdorf? I can’t answer that.” He placed his arm on her shoulder. “Does he care about anything except himself?”

  She’d put on a jacket after re-buttoning her shirt, but that wasn’t what was keeping her warm. Just having Jay with her served as a physical and emotional barrier between herself and the man responsible for her salary. Jay was her connection to Olympic forest, the one person capable of understanding her complex relationship with the world she found herself in.

  “I’m not sure he does.” Their shoulders touched. When he placed his arm around her, she struggled to focus on anything except him.

  “About what he said,” Jay said after a silence that had her wondering if he too was reacting to the contact. “Your continued employment depends on you going back as soon as possible?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you care?”

  “I do and yet… I worked so hard to get that degree, and I definitely like the salary, but… Right now, I feel disconnected from that life. Probably come morning…”

  “After you’ve rested.”

  “Of course,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure that was true. For the first time in her life, she had financial and housing security, only, right now, it didn’t matter.

  The moon was almost directly overhead and surrounded by a riot of stars. Much as she loved a desert night, this moment was precious. Maybe because of the man she shared it with.

  Wolf, are you here? I need you and what you represent. “I can’t leave. If I do, it’s as if I’ve abandoned Doc and everything he stands for.”

  “Just Doc?”

  “No, not just him. To have Wolf…”

  “Have Wolf what?”

  “Anchor me,” she whispered as she slid her arm around Jay’s waist. Regardless of the danger, she needed the closeness.

  “In what way?”

  Too late, she realized how much she’d said. “I don’t know who I am. Not beyond the superficial, anyway.”

  “You mentioned that, but I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t expect you to. I barely do myself. Please don’t ask me to say any more than I have. It’s—complicated.”

  “All right.” He hugged her. “Winter?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to say this, but Christian does need to talk to you.”

  “Yes, he does.” Her life had been turned around. Maybe that was why she was having so much trouble concentrating—and maybe Jay’s presence had more to do with it than she was ready to acknowledge. “I’ve been putting something off. Maybe I should do it before I see Christian.”

  “Telling Dr. Gilsdorf’s son about the theft?”

  “Yes.”

  * * * *

  Christian was standing outside by himself when she and Jay reached Doc’s cabin. Her conversation with Pearson had been short because she hadn’t wanted to delay seeing Christian. Someone had turned on the outside light, and Winter saw that Christian was on his cell phone. He ended with a simple, “Yes, of course.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to see me,” Christian said as they shook hands. “You’ve been through a lot, but I’d like us to talk while your memory is fresh.”

  She explained that she’d written down everything she could think of and would turn that file over to him. “Maybe your questions will take my mind in new directions, but before we get started, Doc’s son wants to talk to you.”

  He nodded then rubbed the back of his neck. “And I need to talk to him.”

  Aware that Jay hadn’t left her side, she punched Send. When Pearson answered, she explained why she was getting back to him so soon and handed the agent her phone.

  After expressing sympathy, Christian listened for several seconds, nodding as he did. “Of course,” he said. “I realize how difficult this is for you.”

  No, you can’t, she wanted to scream. Instead, she looked up at Jay. The lightbulb had given his face a yellow cast, but he was still the most arresting man she’d ever seen. She’d have to find a way to tell him about having possession of the mask without it destroying their relationship.
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  Christian handed the phone back to her. “I assume you know what he asked.”

  She nodded.

  “He’d like you to send him everything of a personal nature when I’m ready to release the items. He apologized for not talking to you again, but his daughter was crying.”

  “She’s only ten. She loved her grandpa. Do you know when the release might happen? There’s a lot I need to do tomorrow.”

  Jay stared at her.

  “There are some things you can take now.” Christian yawned. “Not everything, I’m afraid, but I want to be as sensitive as possible.”

  “I’ll help you carry the items to your car,” Jay offered.

  The car with the wolf mask in the trunk. “I appreciate the offer, but until I know what I’m dealing with—”

  “Why don’t we go inside,” Christian suggested. “Unless it’s too unsettling for you.”

  “I’m all right.” She wasn’t.

  Jay remained close as she followed Christian into Doc’s cabin. Later, maybe, she’d tell Jay how grateful she was for his distracting presence. However, if she did that might expose too much about her emotions where he was concerned. The way Christian looked at them made her wonder if the agent had picked up on the energy.

  After looking around, she decided nothing had been moved since Jay and she had been in here. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the bed where Doc had lain and hated the idea of picking up his toothbrush or comb.

  “You look as if you’ve been kicked in the gut, again,” Jay said. “Why don’t you point? Christian can tell us whether the item needs to stay or can go.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion. I might take you up on it.”

  Jay smiled and, suddenly, things were easier. “Doc hated buying clothes. I doubt if he bought anything new for himself since his wife died. Pearson sent him some things, and I bought a pair of slacks and a shirt so he’d look presentable for a conference. I’m sure he didn’t bring that outfit here.”

  Realizing she was stalling, she walked over to the open closet and pointed at a shirt. Christian nodded.

  “Here.” Jay held out his hands. “Load me up.”

  Collecting Doc’s clothes didn’t take long. While she dealt with Doc’s scent on his limited wilderness wardrobe, Jay carried the items outside and came back in empty-handed. “They’re on a log. What else?”

  Her gaze had already settled on the brown slippers she’d given Doc at Christmas. Blinking back tears, she picked them up. As she did, something slid from the toe of the right one and landed against the inner part of the heel. Hoping she wasn’t giving away what she was doing, she reached into the slipper. She didn’t want to take a chance on looking at the object, but was pretty sure she was touching a memory stick.

  She palmed it and slipped it into her pocket.

  This was hers. Only she had a right to it.

  * * * *

  “I’m sorry you have to do this now,” Christian said as the two of them sat in the Potlatch office.

  Jay had made coffee, then he had left so the investigator and she could have privacy. She’d sidestepped Jay’s offer to put everything in her trunk by asking him to place Doc’s belongings in her cabin. She didn’t know where Jay was.

  “It’s all right,” she said belatedly. She sipped the coffee. “I’m going to regret having caffeine this late. How much more do you have to do tonight?”

  “Just talk to Jay and make sure the cabin’s secure.” Christian withdrew his notepad from his pocket. “I’ve never been in charge of a murder investigation. Depending on what I learn from the autopsy, I might call the FBI. The amount of violence—” He leaned toward her. “I’m sorry you have to hear this, but my training tells me that this was what they call a crime of passion. Someone’s idea of revenge.”

  She struggled to keep her head up. “I hate hearing that.”

  “I’d like to begin by having you tell me everything you can about what brought Dr. Gilsdorf to Olympic. That might give me an idea who’d have it in for him.”

  Her mind felt fuzzy and her body sleep-deprived as she told him about Doc’s premise that ancient Northwest Natives had established inland communities instead of spending their entire existence along the shoreline. Doc had examined well-known histories from Natives and white trappers and had conducted a detailed study of the earliest maps. Olympic Forest was nearly perfect for on-site work, because it was under federal protection and little had changed there in thousands of years.

  “Can you come up with a reason why anyone would object to his project? It seems innocuous to me, but then I’m not an anthropology expert.”

  With his comment, her exhaustion fled. She sat up straight and leaned forward. He wouldn’t call Doc’s work innocuous if he’d seen the mask.

  What if someone other than her was aware of what Doc had done?

  Doc hadn’t stumbled upon the mask while hiking. He had to have known where to look or—was it possible someone had given it to him? She couldn’t understand how anyone could have hated Doc enough to do what she’d seen. What was it she heard on TV programs and in the news, that the obvious suspects were those closest to the victim?

  Northwest Native Americans had been opposed to having him here. It made no sense for one of them to give Doc the mask, but what—what if whoever that person was had changed his mind and tried to get it back?

  And now, because she had the mask, was she in danger?

  A cold sweat broke out all over her. She couldn’t speak.

  “Winter, if you suspect someone, I’d like to hear who and why.”

  Feeling out of her league, she told Christian about Dr. Wilheim’s resentment and jealousy. She’d never seen him angry, but he was often impatient. Christian jotted down a few things but didn’t ask questions.

  Bringing up what she perceived as Michael’s irritation with Doc’s refusal to cooperate with him felt like a stretch. “He just seems so uptight,” she said. “Maybe it wouldn’t take much to set him off.”

  Christian looked up from his notebook. “You’ve been considering this.”

  She took a deep breath. “Of course. Doc wasn’t just killed. He was—it was overkill.”

  The investigator studied her. “It looks that way. Can you come up with anyone else Dr. Gilsdorf might have pissed off?”

  ‘Pissed off’ was hardly strong enough, considering what Doc’s last minutes of life had been like.

  “I’m mentioning Booth because I can’t help but wonder if he’s responsible for the theft. He went to a great deal of effort to prepare the oral histories. Maybe—I don’t—maybe he thought Doc had taken advantage of his work.”

  “Hmm. Anyone else?”

  “He wasn’t happy with the reception he received from the local Natives.”

  “Wouldn’t they just leave him alone?”

  Instead of kill him? Probably, unless Doc and one or more Natives had started to trust each other only to have that fragile connection shatter.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Christian looked at his watch. “Don’t apologize. I need to consider all possibilities. Before I talk to Jay, I’ll walk you back to your cabin.”

  “I don’t like hearing you say that.”

  Christian put down his notepad. “Whoever killed Dr. Gilsdorf might not be done. You were closer to him than anyone else here.”

  Her body sagged. “I’ve thought about that.”

  “You need to. When will you be leaving?”

  I can’t. “I need to make some calls tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll have a better idea then.”

  “Keep me informed. No agenda is worth your life.”

  She clenched her teeth in an attempt not to shiver. “No,” she managed. “It isn’t.” But I can’t walk away.

  * * * *

  “Damn it, Floyd said he’d be there,” Jay said in response to what his uncle had just told him. He stared at the outline of his cabin but didn’t really see it. He lifted
his cell off his ear. “I should have guessed he’d keep drinking.”

  “It isn’t that late,” Uncle Talio said. “He might still show up.”

  “Maybe.” Jay didn’t believe that and suspected his uncle didn’t, either. “How do we get through to him that he’s throwing his life away?”

  “We can’t. It hurts every time I remember how proud he was when he was old enough to participate in the chalAt’I’lo t’sikAti ceremony.”

  “I remember how excited he was. I’d taken part in it the year before and didn’t think he understood that the ceremony was to honor our land and not just a reason for dancing and eating. But about that time he started really paying attention to the stories you’d been telling us.”

  Uncle Talio chuckled. “Three days of being immersed in his culture made an impact with him, same as it had with you. He was so little his first year of watching the ceremonies, I gave him a beaver hat to wear because the masks were too heavy and he couldn’t see out.”

  Neither of them spoke, and Jay suspected his uncle was remembering when he’d played a major role in the rituals that were part of chalAt’I’lo t’sikAti. Hoping to keep Uncle Talio from focusing on what he’d lost, Jay brought him up to date on the investigation into Dr. Gilsdorf’s murder.

  Uncle Talio didn’t ask many questions, but he was used to that. To the older man’s way of thinking, a person learned from their own experiences and not lectures. Much as he appreciated being raised that way, he couldn’t help wondering if he and Floyd would have turned out how Uncle Talio had hoped if they’d been given more direction.

  But that wasn’t entirely true. The man who’d raised them had gifted both boys with a rich legacy.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen regarding the work Dr. Gilsdorf was involved in,” Jay said. “The other professor—Dr. Wilheim—you met with him, didn’t you?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Despite his worn-down brain, Jay smiled. His uncle was a good judge of character. If someone wanted his opinion of another person, he gave it.

  “What were your conversations about?”