other.
“There’s no blood in the cave,” Begay finally spoke, staring right at Klein, and then at Palmer.
“What do you mean no blood?” Klein asked and looked at Palmer.
Palmer nodded; he’d noticed the same thing when they had walked through the cave. “I didn’t see any blood on the dirt floor, none smeared on the rock walls, no drag marks from the bodies to speak of.”
Klein looked a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed that.
“Not much blood out here either,” Begay said. “Nothing except for that one spot over there by the second trailer. But there’s blood all over the place inside that first trailer. How did this person, or these people, take blood-soaked bodies, all of those pieces of their bodies, from the trailer to the cave without spilling a drop of it?
“I don’t know. It’s strange, but we’re going to get it all figured out.”
Palmer looked over at the line of trucks in the distance near the stand of cottonwoods. He thought about going over there and looking them over.
But before Palmer started walking towards the trucks, the radios from inside both of the Dodge Durangos squawked—an incoherent voice called out through a burst of static from the dashboard radios. The officer with the longer dark hair bolted to his vehicle and snatched the mike up out of his truck. He talked into it for a moment, but Palmer couldn’t make out all of what he was saying—some of the words sounded like they might have been Navajo. After the officer finished the conversation on the radio, he threw the mike back into his vehicle onto the driver’s seat and hurried over to Begay.
Agent Palmer watched the young officer, but the man’s eyes were on his captain.
“There’s been another murder,” the officer told Begay. “Two more bodies discovered.”
CHAPTER TEN
Navajo Reservation—the dig site
“W e’re going with you,” Agent Klein told Captain Begay as the man walked towards his Ford Bronco. “It could be connected to what happened here.”
Begay stopped walking and looked at both of the agents like he was thinking something over. He let out a slow sigh. “It’s not too far from here. I’ll leave my men here to wait for your forensics team.”
“Sounds good,” Agent Palmer said. He looked at Klein. “I’ll follow you.”
As Palmer walked quickly to his rental sedan, Begay gave his orders to his two officers. Palmer got in his car and closed the door on the freezing air. He watched the reactions from the two men as Begay told them to wait behind … they didn’t look very happy about staying here at the dig site.
Palmer tore off his gloves and thrust his hands in front of the heating vents, waiting for the air to warm up. Klein was already in his black sedan, the motor running, smoke pluming up from the tailpipe.
Begay got into his Bronco and started it up. He drove away from the other two Durangos and idled down the trail through the brush that led up to the dirt road that cut through the rock canyon. Klein followed Begay, and Palmer followed Klein. Palmer hoped Captain Begay would drive a little slower over this rough terrain until they got back on paved roads.
• • •
Once they were out of the canyons and onto paved roads, Palmer checked his cell phone. He had one bar of signal strength so he dialed the Albuquerque office.
“This is Special Agent Palmer,” he said into the phone. “I’m in the field at a dig site on the Navajo Reservation and I was wondering how far away the forensics team is.”
He waited for a moment, following Klein’s sedan along the desert road. In the distance jagged mountains and mesas lined the horizon with a sea of brush leading up to them.
“They should be there in the next few hours,” the dispatch told him.
“Can you let them know that they need to bring a generator with them? And some extra gas.”
“A generator?” the woman said and she seemed to be writing it down. “A generator and some gas,” she
“There’s no blood in the cave,” Begay finally spoke, staring right at Klein, and then at Palmer.
“What do you mean no blood?” Klein asked and looked at Palmer.
Palmer nodded; he’d noticed the same thing when they had walked through the cave. “I didn’t see any blood on the dirt floor, none smeared on the rock walls, no drag marks from the bodies to speak of.”
Klein looked a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed that.
“Not much blood out here either,” Begay said. “Nothing except for that one spot over there by the second trailer. But there’s blood all over the place inside that first trailer. How did this person, or these people, take blood-soaked bodies, all of those pieces of their bodies, from the trailer to the cave without spilling a drop of it?
“I don’t know. It’s strange, but we’re going to get it all figured out.”
Palmer looked over at the line of trucks in the distance near the stand of cottonwoods. He thought about going over there and looking them over.
But before Palmer started walking towards the trucks, the radios from inside both of the Dodge Durangos squawked—an incoherent voice called out through a burst of static from the dashboard radios. The officer with the longer dark hair bolted to his vehicle and snatched the mike up out of his truck. He talked into it for a moment, but Palmer couldn’t make out all of what he was saying—some of the words sounded like they might have been Navajo. After the officer finished the conversation on the radio, he threw the mike back into his vehicle onto the driver’s seat and hurried over to Begay.
Agent Palmer watched the young officer, but the man’s eyes were on his captain.
“There’s been another murder,” the officer told Begay. “Two more bodies discovered.”
CHAPTER TEN
Navajo Reservation—the dig site
“W e’re going with you,” Agent Klein told Captain Begay as the man walked towards his Ford Bronco. “It could be connected to what happened here.”
Begay stopped walking and looked at both of the agents like he was thinking something over. He let out a slow sigh. “It’s not too far from here. I’ll leave my men here to wait for your forensics team.”
“Sounds good,” Agent Palmer said. He looked at Klein. “I’ll follow you.”
As Palmer walked quickly to his rental sedan, Begay gave his orders to his two officers. Palmer got in his car and closed the door on the freezing air. He watched the reactions from the two men as Begay told them to wait behind … they didn’t look very happy about staying here at the dig site.
Palmer tore off his gloves and thrust his hands in front of the heating vents, waiting for the air to warm up. Klein was already in his black sedan, the motor running, smoke pluming up from the tailpipe.
Begay got into his Bronco and started it up. He drove away from the other two Durangos and idled down the trail through the brush that led up to the dirt road that cut through the rock canyon. Klein followed Begay, and Palmer followed Klein. Palmer hoped Captain Begay would drive a little slower over this rough terrain until they got back on paved roads.
• • •
Once they were out of the canyons and onto paved roads, Palmer checked his cell phone. He had one bar of signal strength so he dialed the Albuquerque office.
“This is Special Agent Palmer,” he said into the phone. “I’m in the field at a dig site on the Navajo Reservation and I was wondering how far away the forensics team is.”
He waited for a moment, following Klein’s sedan along the desert road. In the distance jagged mountains and mesas lined the horizon with a sea of brush leading up to them.
“They should be there in the next few hours,” the dispatch told him.
“Can you let them know that they need to bring a generator with them? And some extra gas.”
“A generator?” the woman said and she seemed to be writing it down. “A generator and some gas,” she
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