Sure enough, Mrs. Wolfgramme was there with picket sign in hand. She was talking to a dishwater blond man with a trimmed beard and slight frame. Despite his build, he was no nonsense through and through. A grim face, squinty eyes, and pointy chin gave that away. An expensive business suit—tailored in the chest with pegged pant legs below—added to his overall “don’t touch me” demeanor. Next to Mrs. Wolfgramme was Karen Stone, a pseudo environmental advocate in the community who had vied for and lost a spot on the city council not too long ago.
To their right was Tara Crane, past girlfriend to Rod and current tourism director for Kanab. She was speaking with Mark Lyon, journalist from the Kanab paper—the same one who had written about Maria’s confrontation at the creek with the fugitives from Nevada.
Speaking of the creek, Justin and Beth stood on the outer edge of a group of parents and kids. Whatever he’d seen hadn’t bothered him too much. He was smiling at Maria. He waved at her and pointed to where a construction worker sat on the ground holding an icepack to his nose. A good thirty feet from him was a college-aged kid dressed in cut-off shorts and a well-worn t-shirt who had a bruise the size of Texas forming on his cheekbone.
A set of government-issued cars were parked by the completed section of the reservoir, which made up about twenty percent of the total project. Maria had heard rumors that a construction worker at the reservoir had found a human bone, most likely Native American in origin, but the worker was fired once the construction manager had gotten wind of her story.
Maria jumped down from her perch and was about to make headway into the crowd when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rod’s car drive up. It took all her energy to force herself not to look that direction. The car screeched to a stop and out tumbled Rod, Grant, and his new girlfriend, Natalie.
That made it official. The entire town and all the tourists were here. It would have been a good day to be in the snow cone business. With the large crowd and the heat, sales would be booming. As it was, Maria gulped down the last bit of warm liquid from the bottom of her water bottle and left the light on top of her police car flashing, but she turned off the sound. She needed people to respect the badge. Maybe a flashing red light in their eyes would help.
Bee-lining into the mass of bodies, Maria sought out the overdressed man in the suit. Since he smelled of money, she figured he was the developer and had most likely played a most important role in all of this.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Wolfgramme saw Maria before she had reached her destination.
“Oh Chief!” the older woman called out. “Yoo-hoo, over here, Chief! Just so you know, I’ve been trying to amicably settle things between Mr. John Walden, Ms. Stone, and myself. I represent a group of concerned citizens of Kanab for the protection of the Ancient Ones.”
Maria waved at the woman to let her know she was on her way to speak with them. When she arrived, she shook Mrs. Wolfgramme’s hand and then turned to the stone-faced developer. He wasn’t a large man, but had a face that had intimidated its fair share of executives around boardroom tables.
“Mr. Walden, is it?” asked Maria.
“Yes.” With an incredibly firm grip, the man pumped Maria’s hand exactly twice before letting it drop.
“And Ms. Stone?” Maria smiled at the former city council candidate member-turned-environmental evangelist.
“Speaking,” said the woman. She was broad shouldered and sturdily built. Her quiet voice was in direct contrast to her muscular frame. “Chief, I am the leader of the protestors, but I assure you it was to be a peaceful protest.”
Maria pulled out an old-fashioned notebook and pen. She didn’t really have to take notes, her memory was better than most, but she wanted everyone to feel she was paying close attention. It was a trick she’d learned. “Mr. Walden and Ms. Stone, could one of you catch me up to speed?”
“I wasn’t here when the fight began,” said Mr. Walden, “but I think it stems from a fabricated story a lady who worked here created to explain to her family why she got fired.”
“Are you referring to the rumor about a woman who found Native American remains out here?” asked Maria.
“Yes.” Mr. Walden nodded. “My site manager told me he’d seen the woman in question smoking marijuana, so he let her go.”
“Lies!” declared Mrs. Wolfgramme. “I know Anna Belle, and while she’s not perfect, she is not some pothead. Absolutely not.”
“I have to agree,” said Ms. Stone. “The woman in question, as you call her, has a very strong case. If she takes the matter to court, I’m sure she’ll win an unlawful termination verdict.”
Mr. Walden turned a shade of pink. Clearly he had not met enough women like Mrs. Wolfgramme and Ms. Stone during his time spent in executive boardrooms. They were much more of a handful than any CEOs Maria had ever come across.
“Ladies, I can assure you all rules and regulations have been followed.” He took a breath and added, “At least, that is what I’ve been told. The young man over there,” he pointed to the protestor, “is the husband of Anna Belle, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes,” answered Mrs. Wolfgramme.
Ms. Stone nodded.
“He approached one of my workers upset. The two exchanged heated words which led to one of them hitting the other in the face and the other one following suit. I’m not sure who got physical first, but I’m sure the school kids watching would be happy to tell you. Most of them have it filmed on their phones.”
“I suspect you’re correct,” said Maria. “Can you tell me if you have had any other protests, either physical or in court, over the reservoir? I assume you got all the proper site inspections and permits?”
“Yes, actually, he did.”
The answer was not from Mr. Walden but from a voice behind Maria. She spun around to see Rod holding a stack of official looking documents. Accompanying Rod were Grant and Natalie.
“Excuse me?” said Maria, taken aback.
Rod tentatively held up a stack of papers. “As Mr. Walden’s legal representative, I can assure you that he has all of the required paperwork to build a reservoir on this land. He’s doing nothing illegal.”
The shock of seeing Rod had derailed Maria. “You’re his lawyer?”
“Yes.” An odd look spread on Rod’s face, which he quickly hid. He pushed the legal papers forward, inviting Maria to take a look at them for herself.
Maria stared at Rod, looked down at the papers, and then back up at him. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why couldn’t he be one of those scrawny measly-looking lawyers on TV?
“Thanks, Mr. Thorton,” said Maria, reaching out to take the documents.
“When did you start calling your boyfriend Mr. Thorton?” asked Mrs. Wolfgramme in the only tone she knew—loud. Then, turning back to Mr. Walden she added, “You know, I’m the one to thank that these two people got together in the first place. I’m good at match-making like that.”
“I would have never guessed,” answered Mr. Walden, who appeared confused at the direction the conversation had taken.
“Mr. Thorton and I are no longer seeing each other socially,” said Maria to anyone within earshot.
Rod, who looked as if he might have swallowed of few mouthfuls of the dry sand, nodded. “Yes, I’m here as Mr. Walden’s lawyer. Errr … nothing more.”
A new voice rose out of the ever-growing group of people surrounding Mr. Walden, Ms. Stone, Mrs. Wolfgramme, and Maria. “I wondered when you two would call it quits. Figured it’d be soon.” Tara Crane, director of tourism and PR in Kanab, had made her way over to the discussion.
“Let’s get back on subject,” Maria growled. “There was a physical assault here earlier, and I’m going to find out why. I’m perfectly capable of doing that without the whole town chiming in.”
Just then, a pair of eight-year-old arms wrapped around Maria’s waist and squeezed. “Hey, Chief. Did you know I’m the one who told my mom to call you? I knew you needed to be here to sort it all out.” Looking aroun
d at all the adults he’d just interrupted, Justin pointed at Maria and added, “Chief is the best.”
Blushing, Maria bent over and gave Justin a hug. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for thinking to have your mom call me. Are the kids getting ready to head on home?”
“Yeah. The principal showed up and he’s trying to see which students’ parents are here and which aren’t. He keeps calling today ‘his biggest nightmare.’ Do you want to come and meet my friends? I’ve told them all about you.”
Maria laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Justin, I will if I can. Right now I need to talk with the grownups and see what is going on. How about I stop by tomorrow and take you for a Slurpee?”
“Okay, Chief. See you tomorrow.” Justin gave Maria’s waist one last squeeze before running back to his mother.
Just then Maria felt a tap on her shoulder. “Chief, what would you like me to do?” Pete asked.
Relieved to have backup, Maria patted Pete’s arm. “Will you go check if either of the individuals in the altercation wants to press charges? They’re over there.” She pointed.
“Sure thing.” As Pete turned to leave, Maria saw that standing behind him was someone she didn’t expect to ever see again. Seriously, the riot at the reservoir was turning into one big reunion.
“Jim?” asked Maria in utter amazement.
“Maria!” A wide grin spread between two piercingly dark eyes.
Jim—who had no last name—was an expert on all things Native American. Maria had worked with him while investigating Mayor Hayward’s disappearance. In addition to helping her with the case, Jim had used some rather unorthodox methods to aid Maria on her path to recovery from PTSD. The memory of their meeting in the middle of the night on Moquith Mountain held a sacred spot in Maria’s heart, and in her little toe.
Jim was not alone. A man and a woman, both of whom had the look of being from the government, flanked him on both sides.
“It’s so great to see you!” exclaimed Maria. “What on earth are you doing here? I had no idea you were back in town.”
Jim subtly bowed and then put his hand out for an all-American handshake from Maria. His jet black, long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but the wrinkles on his face betrayed his age—a timeless fifty. “The pleasure is mine, Maria. I’m here as a consultant for the Environmental Protection Agency.” Jim gestured to the man, and then the woman at his side. “Meet Craig Snyder and Gloria McCoy. Both senior officers.”
“I had no idea Kanab was having a visit from the EPA today.” Maria looked around, growing more and more baffled at the number of people who had gathered.
“We weren’t on an official visit,” Mr. Snyder said, stepping forward. “We had heard rumors and thought we would bring Jim here to … well … take a quick look. I have no idea how the protestors found out we were coming.”
“News travels fast in a small town,” answered Maria. “Nothing stays secret very long.”
“I guess not.” The pinched-faced Gloria McCoy looked around with a hint of fear.
Maria turned to her old friend. “Jim, I assume you’re here investigating rumors about this being a Native American burial ground?”
“I am.” Jim nodded.
“So what’s the verdict? Is Mr. Walden building on a sacred site?”
Jim was about to say something when Rod spoke up, as professional sounding as Maria had ever heard him. “Not to offend the EPA, or you Chief Branson, but the developer has already had multiple inspections on the land. Everything has come up clean. There’s no reason to go into all of this right now, not while half the town is here feeling riled up.”
Jim pursed his lips together and looked at Maria then Rod. His gaze knowingly took in the tension that existed between them. At last he said, “No offense taken, sir.”
“Rod Thorton.” He held out his hand to Jim. “We met briefly during the search for the mayor. I’m legal representation for Mr. Walden, the developer of this project. I can assure you he has followed all the rules and regulations the state and federal government has mandated.”
Jim smiled. “Mr. Thorton, rest assured, I’m not here to cast blame. I am here to protect the innocent, whoever that may be.” He looked into the sky for a moment, murmured something to himself, and then continued talking. “Trust me. I’ve seen plenty of inspections done in full confidence, with no ill intent, that had dire consequences on everyone involved. The dead, the undead, and the living. I’m just here to help.”
Rod’s eyes widened. “The undead?”
Maria flinched. There were way too many eyes and ears seeing and listening. The conversation was moving into territory that made Maria nervous—at least to discuss in public. It was time to do something about this mess.
“Everyone, listen up,” Maria shouted, turning as she spoke so all could hear. “Today’s situation is an isolated incident of an angry husband and a frustrated worker. No harm was intended. Parents, we are truly sorry your children were exposed to improper behavior coming from adults. It’s a good reminder of how we should act toward each other.”
A large number of the parents nodded and hushed their children, telling them to pay attention.
Maria forged on. “However, there is nothing else for anyone to do here today, so please take your kids home.” Maria saw the school principal about to speak and so she added, “But be sure to check with your child’s teacher first.”
“Not so fast,” shouted one dad among the crowd. “I want to know if there really are Native American remains here. I’ve heard stories about towns displacing things like burial grounds and then everybody ends up being cursed.”
A few parents laughed. Others covered their kids’ ears.
“You may think it’s funny,” the man continued, “but it’s true. We need to know what’s going on here. It will affect everyone.”
“The guy is looney tunes,” Grant whispered to Rod but loud enough for Maria to hear. “Probably watches too much TV.”
Natalie giggled loud enough for everyone to hear and then kissed him on the cheek. “This is a crack up. We have crazies in my city, but not like this.”
Maria, however, had a completely different perspective. She’d been around enough ghosts to agree with the man. Who knew? Maybe he’d had run-ins of the spectral variety himself. Cursing or no cursing, burial sites were not meant to be desecrated. If there was one thing Acalan, her Aztec ghost, had taught her, it was to leave dead things alone.
Yet, however much Maria agreed with the dad, the place and timing of his comment could not have been worse. The faces of over half the elementary school kids had drained of color.
“Jim,” Maria said out the side of her mouth, “is there any way you can put these kids’ fears to rest?”
Jim looked at her and shook his head. “No, I think the man is right. It’s better to face this situation than hide behind bureaucracy.” He glanced at the stack of permits and inspection papers that Rod had given to Maria to hold. “But these people will not care what I have to say. They need to hear it from one of their own. Like you, Maria.”
“Me?” Maria stepped backward involuntarily. The area surrounding her seemed to grow a deadly quiet despite the number of people there.
Jim moved toward Maria and spoke softly. “Yes, Maria. You know what kind of land this is. I don’t have to tell you. You have the Sight. The Materfamilias and I have spoken.”
“Don’t,” answered Maria. Embarrassment licked her face. She turned to walk away, but bumped directly into Mrs. Wolfgramme who had been purposefully sticking close to Maria like glue.
“Do tell,” said Mrs. Wolfgramme, the curiosity spewing from her, “what is the Sight? And why does this man think you know about this land more than anyone else?”
A sea of eyes focused on Maria.
Maria shook her head once. Then twice. “I have no idea.”
Jim frowned. Under his breath he chided Maria. “Don’t be ashamed of who you are.”
Maria turned to him, he
r insides melting from the raw emotion flowing through her veins. “For your information, I am not ashamed.”
“Liar.” Jim stood his ground. “If you ever want to know what you’re capable of, you have to embrace your gift.”
Though no one actually touched Maria, she felt claustrophobic. Bodies pressed on her. Mrs. Wolfgramme. Ms. Stone. Mr. Walden. Rod and company. Pete with the two men who had thrown punches. Tara Crane. Jim. The representatives from the EPA. Half the town of Kanab, quite literally.
Inhaling deeply, Maria focused on Jim. This was not the way she’d wanted learn about what Materfamilias had meant when she told Maria about the Sight. However, after everything Maria had experienced since moving to Kanab, maybe it was worth doing whatever it took to find out why she was different.
“If I do this,” she whispered to Jim, “Will I understand … stuff … better?”
“It will be a start.”
There were more whispers around her. But for the first time in a long while Maria didn’t care. She was sick of feeling like she was the freak with two heads. The camel with three humps. She wanted to know why she saw ghosts. And why she, of all people, had seen the ranger in Arizona transform from a man to a bird.
“The Sight is a journey,” said Jim, his voice taking a sing-songy vague tone. “One that is yours to traverse in the—”
“Stop it.” Maria scowled. “You talk in mysteries. Well, I don’t. I speak in English. Small words. Short sentences. You should give it a try. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
A hundred people had never been so quiet.
Ever.
Jim reached out his hand and took Maria by the arm. As if they were the Grand Marshalls of a parade, he led her to the edge of the small portion of the reservoir where the water had already been filled. The liquid lapped at the side.
Behind them everyone followed in a procession like in the fairy tale of the king with the golden goose. First Mrs. Wolfgramme and Ms. Stone. Behind them came Mr. Walden, Rod, Tara, Grant, and Natalie. Pete was next in line followed by the protestors and construction workers. Bringing up the rear were Beth and Justin, along with all of the other parents and children.
Riddles that Kill Page 5
