by Gary Starta
“If the killer possesses this crystal, he may be more dangerous than any armed fugitive,” Campbell asserts.
Campbell, a descendant of the Cheyenne people, canceled a lecture in his hometown last night to give the Tulsa Current this exclusive.
The historian reminds us that his claims cannot be verified by fact. However, the risk of ignoring the potential threat to all citizens was too great for Campbell to bear.
The crystal was allegedly fashioned into the shape of an arrowhead by Chief Circling Hawk to protect him on his journey from Colorado to Oklahoma in late 1864. The chief survived a bloody slaughter of his Cheyenne people at the hands of the U.S. Cavalry in southeastern Colorado. The November raid, known as the Sand Creek Massacre, resulted in nearly two hundred deaths. According to Cheyenne legend, the Great Spirit aided Circling Hawk so he could successfully ward off further assaults by the military.
“During a vision quest, the crystal instructed Circling Hawk to return to a camp in Oklahoma where he take union with a woman and make a child. Some of my ancestors believe Circling Hawk was aided by divine intervention for the purpose of continuing the Cheyenne lineage.”
None of the stories recanted by Campbell’s forefathers could ever ascertain just where Circling Hawk left the stone. However, it is speculated the chief and the crystal parted ways somewhere in Oklahoma.
“Circling Hawk’s connection to the stone ironically was responsible for his death,” Campbell points out. “Once the child was made, Circling Hawk was to relinquish the crystal and prepare for death. The Cheyenne believe everything must be done with balance. Nature is as kind as she is cruel.”
Campbell explains that the rose quartz crystal, which hung on a beaded chain, could very well have been found by the killer, who police suspect may be a drifter. So far investigators can only describe the suspect as a teenage male with long blond hair and blue eyes. He was last seen at an Arkansas convenience store wearing a blood-soaked green-striped shirt and blue jeans. Although the description does not confirm the killer wore such a pendant, the arrow-shaped brand marks have convinced Campbell the pendant was present at both crime scenes.
The historian even believes the crystal pendant may be leaving the markings to warn mankind of its misuse.
Campbell was initially apprehensive about coming forward with this information. Information he fears most citizens will scoff at since it’s not based on hard evidence. Nevertheless, he asks believers and skeptics alike to heed his warning.
Campbell is urging the public as well as law enforcement officials to avoid prolonged physical contact with the suspect at all costs. “His physiology has likely been altered by the crystal, therefore, he could possess superior mental and physical powers. In other words, the killer may be able to render great physical harm without the aid of a weapon.”
Campbell explained that the crystal could effect such transformations by tapping into the body’s seven chakras, or energy vortexes. “The constitutional properties of quartz allow it to program each of the seven energy centers that govern the mind as well the internal organs of the body. Quartz crystals are said to be the brain cells of Grandmother Earth. The arrowhead crystal may be responsible for super charging these seven centers, allowing its wearer to achieve feats we cannot even fathom.
“Each of the chakras represents a certain body location as well as several colors that make up the spectrum of a rainbow.”
Although some medical experts may debate the scientific merit of these inner wheels, Campbell is a firm believer that chakras are responsible for governing all of our emotions as well as influencing our well being.
For the Arrowhead Killer, the effect of the crystal on the chakras is even more dramatic.
“The arrowhead crystal was used by Circling Hawk in 1864, but back then, the earth was more pure. It was not polluted with chemical toxins, nuclear missiles, oil spills, and industrial smog. The crystal’s connection with the body was in tune with nature. Today it could not possibly be properly aligned with the seven chakras. Its influence and intent would differ dramatically. I fear this difference will result in misguided actions, influencing the wearer to seek retribution instead of forgiveness—to see only hate instead of love.”
Campbell reminds us there is always some truth in myth and some caution in legend. “Chief Circling Hawk only utilized the pendant for self-preservation. If the wearer seeks vengeance or desires to seed ill will without just cause, the results will be catastrophic for humankind.”
The local historian is imploring the killer to disassociate himself with the crystal at once. “It will only bring death in the end, no matter how fortunate you may feel to have discovered its presence.”
For that reason, Campbell implores all of us to consider the Arrowhead myth with an open mind. As he reminds us, “It’s for our own safety.”
Chapter 8
Except for their vibrant blue eyes, the Diggs sisters were nothing alike.
Caitlin, who was eleven years older than Tara, preferred to have her feet planted squarely on the ground. Caitlin Diggs immediately applied to the FBI Academy at Quantico upon graduating from UC Berkeley. She had only one career in mind—the FBI.
Caitlin also preferred to be exclusive when it came to dating. Her career involved extensive traveling and offered little or no time to multitask with the opposite sex. She frowned on starting long distance relationships, even when time allowed. Past experiences dictated that a man could never remain faithful in an interstate romance.
With Geoffrey McAllister she could have had an intimate relationship. Working side by side, traveling across the country, there would be no long separations. Ironically, the one case that separated the two agents would sentence Caitlin to spend the remainder of her life wondering. Wondering what could have been...wondering if she could have saved McAllister...wondering if her path in life was truly meant to be a solitary one.
Eight years ago, she would have easily brushed off any distraction like it was just dust on blue jeans. She had worked seven years in the Los Angeles field office and had maintained strictly professional relationships with three different male partners. These men did their best to conceal their fear of Caitlin, each putting in about two years before requesting a transfer. The young and feisty agent was simply not afraid of upsetting the applecart. Diggs never backed down, even when disagreements with her partners were aired right in front of her superiors. Concessions were made for her because her arrest record spoke volumes.
News of the young female agent, who routinely outwitted her veteran partners, eventually spread to Washington. She worked with Geoffrey McAllister on her first assignment. Caitlin again feared dissension. She believed it was only a matter of time before McAllister would run to the director and complain about her disregard for protocol. But he never did. Geoffrey was an ally. He became as familiar to her as if he were a part of her. Seven years passed. Geoffrey and Caitlin shared work, life, and love. Now Caitlin was paying the price for codependence. Without Geoffrey, she began to doubt her effectiveness as an FBI agent. Without Geoffrey, her confidence was shaken. Without Geoffrey, she felt alone in the world.
Tara, on the other hand, did not equate independence with loneliness. She employed a serial method of dating, never suffering one bout of low self-esteem. She could not understand the concept of putting all of one’s eggs in a basket or depending on one person or one job to give her happiness. As a consequence, her love life was equivalent to a juggling act. Dating up to three different guys at a time with no emotional attachments, Tara could compete with the best of the male “players” when it came to multiple physical hookups.
After the initial chemical attraction wore off, Tara discarded the men like empty candy wrappers. Some called this cool detachment, but Caitlin associated this behavior as an illness. Attention deficit disorder spilled into other areas of the younger sister’s life as well. She would dabble in two or three different sales schemes, all to the chagrin of Caitlin and their parents.
Both sisters could agree they would never understand each other’s motivations. Maybe this was because each seemed to take after a different parent.
Caitlin physically resembled her father. She had his dark brown hair, protruding chin, and high cheekbones. She inherited his long legs that elevated her stature to that of a runway model. Caitlin was more physically aggressive, often relying on this strength to get her out of a half dozen close calls with combative perpetrators over the years. Frequently, she intimidated suspects with just a leer—the intense scowl in combination with her protruding chin and stunning blue eyes were very effective during interrogations. She kept her business attire limited to black and gray. When off duty, she wore blue jeans with drab-colored tops and knitted sweaters, never allowing her hair to grow long enough to touch her shoulders.
Tara stood at five feet four inches—the exact height of her mother. Her curly red hair matched her lifestyle, unkempt and ever evolving. In spring it might flow down her back like a long, winding road. By fall, the locks might have been straightened and cut so short you would swear she had started the punk movement. Tara’s figure was lean, but not athletic. Tara chose flashy colors when dressing. She didn’t care if dresses or skirts flattered her body or not. She wore them to symbolize her state of mind. She wore hot pink, bright yellow, or mint green, delighting in being a catwalk reject. Tara thought color was meant to be an extension of her fiery spirit and unbridled passion, not an interpretation of the latest fashion scene. In combination with her fiery hair tones, her attire could literally light up a room. Some of Tara’s friends believed she wore these dramatic colors to make up for her plain physical showings. And if these cowardly friends would dare make these comments to her face, Tara would be the first to agree her profile did lack distinction. Nevertheless, Tara’s thinness from hips to lips, in combination with her pale skin, only served to further enhance the shock value of her latest hairstyle. In fact, even eight years after graduating from high school, men still flicker toward her radiance like moths around a flame. And Tara’s so called friends secretly wish they were as fortunate.
No doubt, each sister was more than capable of attracting the opposite sex. On this particular Tuesday morning, Tara and Caitlin had unwittingly provoked an argument between two brothers while walking along the shores of Long Beach. Fortunately for the men, the sisters were out of earshot to hear their running commentary. Caitlin strode along the shoreline wearing a black bikini and arc-shaped sunglasses. Her image, along with half a case of beer, prompted the older brother to revere in Caitlin’s understated appearance. “She walks in a shroud of mystery. If I were a wave, I, too, would fling myself at her feet.”
The other man, sickened by his sibling’s pretentious prose hailed Tara as the greater beauty. Wearing a fuchsia one-piece, Tara’s shoulder-length curls bounced upon her shoulders like a beach ball, effectively hypnotizing the younger, suds-soaked brother. However, his assessment was somewhat less poetic. “Dude, the pink lady is hotter. Any chick who wears shades is uptight.”
From the mouths of drunks, a fairly accurate characterization was drawn.
***
Caitlin needed a fix after the long stroll. She turned to the freezer and pulled out old faithful—a frozen tub of cookie dough ice cream.
Seated on a bar stool in front of a kitchen counter top, Caitlin stabbed the cold concoction, willing it to thaw. Her spoon chipped at the brown and white frozen delight like a pick ax, but to no avail. Time to invent Plan B. Pushing the buttons on the microwave, she commanded it to take its best shot at the uncooperative dessert. Caitlin implored the ice cream to soften. “You can afford a meltdown, I can’t.” In one minute’s time, the special agent took her dessert into custody. Sometimes necessity is the mother of invention, even for a food junkie.
Caitlin had downed one-third of the carton when her bliss was interrupted by a nagging telephone. The man on the other end had taken the brunt of Caitlin’s sugar high. She was off the phone and back at her bar stool fumbling with a spoon when Tara walked in the house. A shopping bag indicated the red head had made a purchase at the local art supply store. Tara wore a look that indicated she was about to burst. She desperately wanted to discuss her latest project with Caitlin. Tara offered a “hello” but there was no response. She caught Caitlin staring into the tempered glass of the oven, holding a spoon in her hand the way a traffic cop holds a stop sign.
Caitlin eventually let out a small grunt in response to her sister’s attempt at a backrub.
“Do you feel like talking about it?”
Kneading her fingers deeply into Caitlin’s shoulders, Tara surprised herself. She was more anxious to hear what was troubling the federal agent than her own voice. But first she would divert Caitlin’s attention to something else. Tara knew her sister very well despite years of separation. Caitlin would never just blurt out what was bothering her. She needed to become engaged in a long conversation first.
Tara released her grip on Caitlin and took a seat on the adjacent bar stool.
“I was thinking about writing a book about severe weather. Do you know some people believe the government is responsible for creating the hurricanes like we got in Texas?”
Caitlin allowed a smile to crease her lips. I thought that was attributable to global warming. Anyway...please continue.”
“I think they’re using electromagnetic waves to do it.”
“And for what purpose?”
“To cure overpopulation. Eliminate those they deem as economically expendable—namely the poor.”
“Well that should motivate you to get a job.”
“Seriously, with one bestseller, I could live like a queen. And I’d pay back all my loans to you.”
“I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you write a book? When was the last time you even read a book?”
“I read web pages all the time.” Tara caught a small sparkle in her sister’s eyes.
She realized her humor was beginning to relax Caitlin.
“You should realize this dream might take awhile. What will you do in the interim?”
“I’ll sell my ceramic ashtrays over the Internet.”
“Do you really think it’s responsible to encourage smoking?”
“I’ll put inspirational messages on them urging people to quit. And I’ll make them pink of course, because that is a healing color. See, the night course I took at the community college is paying off, thanks to your loan.”
“And what exactly did my loan help to teach you?”
“I told you this all before, but you were too preoccupied with junk food. Suffice it to say—crystals can heal almost every mental and physical ailment known to mankind.”
Caitlin paused to give Tara a facetious look. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“I’m not the one who needs the crystals. I see the benefit of my education as financial. I plan to sell them to people who really need them—like you.”
Caitlin exhaled a sarcastic laugh. “It sounds like you’ve got an answer for everything.”
“Well what about you? Do you have the answer to your question?”
Caitlin broke eye contact with Tara. She spooned the melted puddle of mushy cookie dough as if the ice cream would answer the question for her.
Painfully aware Tara’s question alluded to her career, the federal agent feigned ignorance for appearance sake.
“What question?”
“You know, Mom’s question. Are you returning to the FBI or not?”
“I can’t answer that right now.”
“Do you want me to give you a tarot reading again?”
“Um, no.” Caitlin recalled t
he last time Tara read her cards. She predicted a relocation to Alaska to raise baby seals.
“Why don’t you just quit? We could be together for Christmas. I’ll buy a real tree.
Dress it with all the trimmings.”
Suddenly Caitlin daydreams and remembers holding hands with Geoffrey during Christmas three years ago. They are seated in front of a fireplace. He looks into her smiling eyes. She is sure he is about to propose. But he never does. They engage in small talk for three hours instead. Eventually, the flames extinguish into nothing more than smoldering ash.
The vision faded as quickly as it materialized. Caitlin’s fear of losing someone else is conveyed quite clearly in her response. “Oh, yeah. It will be real pretty come January when it is lying on the curb, dried out, and waiting for trash pickup.”
“I bet you’re one of those people who buy those artificial fiber optic jobs. Sis, you need to get in touch with nature.”
“Nature will have to wait. Assistant Director Dudek called. He wants me back at Washington tomorrow evening to get reinstated. My leave is over. I’m needed at the bureau.”
Caitlin’s eyes filled with sorrow. She was truly sorry to disappoint Tara. But in her heart, a weight had been lifted. The decision to return to the bureau was quick and painless because it was the only option she felt she really had.
***
Dudek never doubted his star agent would respond to his calling. He purchased airline tickets—at the expense of the bureau—to fly Diggs to Washington. Hainsworth had ordered him to spare no expense in capturing the Arrowhead Killer. So Dudek slyly took the director up on his offer. The A.D. had told no one about Diggs’ reinstatement with the exception of Agent Rivers.
Caitlin also had kept her reinstatement a secret. She asked Tara to break the news to their parents; she did not need a tongue lashing from her mother. Her head was too busy spinning with thoughts of Geoffrey. She gathered up her belongings like a robot. Her mind drifted, and her eyes glazed over as if a storm had invaded her soul. Tara begrudgingly helped Caitlin pack, stopping her from taking several of her dresses. Once on the plane, she couldn’t even remember checking her bags in, let alone packing them.
