Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery

by Sharon Canipe

  They drove quietly through the rolling countryside heading south toward the volcanic peaks north of Flagstaff and the entrance to the park. Finally, Lin approached the subject she had been avoiding earlier.

  “I’m still troubled about these deaths that have been discovered in the park recently,” Lin spoke calmly and evenly, “ I can’t seem to stop thinking about them and wondering what could have happened to these men. I can’t help but feel that the first remains we found are somehow connected to the most recent—near the same area—all native men—it is puzzling.”

  Neal shifted in his seat and seemed to be thinking before he spoke. “It’s certainly upsetting to be part of such discoveries. I think we all suffered a bit of shock—I know my students certainly did—but I don’t really see how the incidents might be related—other than the coincidence of locations—I think it’s pretty clear that the deaths discovered on Tuesday were the result of a crime, but that Honeyestewa fellow died about a year ago and that was clearly an accident—at least according to the authorities.” He reached for Lin’s hand and tried to be reassuring, “I’m sure they will get to the bottom of this most recent incident—and soon. You shouldn’t worry.”

  Lin was not going to yield on the subject so easily. “I’m not really worried about the current investigation but I’m still not sure that Cullen Honeyestewa’s death was just an accident.” She pressed on, “ I’ve met his family and they have a lot of questions. They say he was a very responsible person and he did not drink at all.”

  Neal was quiet for a moment but his demeanor suggested impatience. “I’m not sure why you are not leaving this alone. It seems to come up every time we are together. How did you meet his family anyway? What business of yours is any of this?”

  “ I went to visit them,” Lin confessed. “I felt that any family who lost a loved one like that, under mysterious circumstances, deserved to have closure, to have their questions answered and the authorities were certainly not providing them with that.” She stretched the truth a little, “They asked me to find out what I could about why he was in the park—what the circumstances might have been—and I’m trying to do just that.”

  Neal seemed to become upset—more than just impatient. “Well, it’s none of your business and you had best leave this situation alone. It could mean trouble for you if you pursue this.” He turned to her imploringly, “I just want you to be safe—you don’t know what that Indian was up to and, if it was trouble, it could mean trouble for you too. I just do not understand why you would want to get involved. He was a stranger to you—to all of us.”

  “Maybe not such a stranger,” Lin responded. “Cullen’s mother gave me some papers found in his truck—so I could perhaps see where he had been and what he had been doing. There was nothing much—mostly gas receipts and such—but there was a business card from John Sessions gallery in Flagstaff with a phone number on the back—it was your number Neal. Did you know this man? If so, you never mentioned it when the authorities were present.”

  Neal dropped her hand, placing both of his on the steering wheel. He seemed to be trying to control his anger, but he was visibly upset.

  “ I did not know this man and I do not know why he might have had my number. I am friendly with John Sessions. Perhaps he gave Cullen my number because he thought he might be interested in some of my work. I don’t know if that is the case but I do sometimes hire local folks when I’m actually involved in a dig—maybe he thought he might be able to work for me—I can’t say—but I can say I never talked to him at all.” Neal’s visage was grim as if he were trying hard to control his anger.

  The rest of their drive was very quiet. When they pulled into the parking lot in front of the housing area. Lin turned to Neal. “I enjoyed the dinner—and your company,” she said politely, as she reached for the door handle.

  Neal turned to her, “ Right, I enjoyed it too, at least until you started accusing me!”

  “I’m not accusing you or anyone of anything, Neal,” Lin responded, “but I am going to try to find some answers for this family whether you like it or not.” She got out of the car and closed the door. As she walked toward her apartment, she heard Neal drive off in a hurry.

  I can’t help it if he’s angry, Lin thought to herself, and I don’t believe he had no knowledge of this man—otherwise why would he become so angry at my questions. There is more to this story than has come out and I am going to look into it whether anyone else does or not. She realized that she was going to have to tell Danielle that she had been to the reservation and had met the Honeyestewas. It was bound to come out sooner or later and, after all. She had done nothing wrong.

  Entering her apartment, she turned on some music and dropped down on her sofa. It was too bad Neal was so angry. She really liked the guy but she felt sure he would probably not want to take her out again. Maybe that was for the best. She felt sure he was lying about knowing Cullen—he had tried to shift knowledge of Cullen back to John Sessions while Sessions had done just the opposite! Would she ever be able to trust Neal? Clearly there had to be some connection between Cullen, the gallery owner, and Smith but neither Sessions nor Smith would acknowledge such. Someone was lying—maybe two someones!

  Chapter 16

  It was late afternoon before Sue Gray left the Walnut Canyon visitor center and went home to her small apartment in the park. She had hoped to leave work a little early and make it out to Wupatki for the open house. Lin had indicated that there were going to be several native artists displaying their works and it sounded really nice; however, the afternoon had been so busy that she felt she couldn’t leave early.

  She changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed a diet coke from her kitchen. Turning to her desk, she turned on her laptop computer. She was lucky—her apartment was not far from the visitor center and she was able to pick up the wireless network. The apartments on the opposite end of the small area were not so fortunate.

  She had decided to spend some time this evening trying to learn more about John Sessions and his business. Soon she was absorbed in researching his name on various websites—most devoted to southwestern art and antiquities. She learned that he was fairly well known in the region and that he seemed to have a growing business. She even found some biographical data indicating that he was a former college teacher, married once, now divorced—no children, etc. It seemed that his entire life was centered on his business—buying and selling. His reputation seemed sound. Sue found no news entries related to any unsavory activities he might have been involved in.

  Finally, she turned to Sessions’ own business website. It was like many others she had seen before—very colorful—beautiful photography of pieces to be found in his gallery. There was a small catalogue with links for placing orders using a credit card—all pretty routine.

  On the last screen of the catalogue; however, Sue found something interesting. There was an offer to serve as a “finder” for special customers who might desire to purchase special items not readily available in the gallery. There was a different email address for these “special customers” to use with the promise that someone would contact them directly and all business would be conducted confidentially.

  That seems interesting, thought Sue. She wondered what Sessions might be selling that was not to be found in the online catalogue. Well, there was one way to find out! She quickly dashed off a note indicating that she would like to talk to someone regarding a “special” order and, including her email address and her cell phone number that would locate her as being out of state, pressed send. Maybe she would learn more through this channel.

  Thinking about the idea of “special orders” and knowing that art theft was a real problem in many areas, Sue spent the rest of her evening educating herself on the subject of national and international theft of art and artifacts—especially from the southwestern US. Various news sites had articles about thefts that had been uncovered and various museums had information dealing with importance of collecto
rs knowing the provenance of their purchases. Sue learned a lot. She had no idea this was such a huge problem or such an apparently big business.

  Sue was growing tired and she was developing a bit of a “computer” headache. Glancing at the clock she realized it was getting late and she needed to get to bed and get some rest. She was to work most of the day following. Just one more article she thought clicking on an item from a Santa Fe New Mexico newspaper.

  This article was like many of the others—a general piece regarding the size and importance of the illegal art business. Apparently the Santa Fe area had come under scrutiny at several points in time. One dealer, in particular was mentioned as having come under suspicion. In spite of being investigated several times; however, Lee Chou had never been charged with any improprieties. The article quoted him, “I am a successful businessman and I am an honest one,” he had said. “Accusations against me may be prompted by those envious of the success of an immigrant like me. I have worked internationally and I credit my success to having a widespread circle of client contacts, but I can assure you my business is entirely legitimate.” This article was more than a year old and there were none more recent referring to this man.

  “Guess, he was on the up and up after all,” Sue yawned as she turned off her computer—time for some shuteye.

  Chapter 17

  Friday morning found Lin feeling a bit down. She wasn’t happy about the state of her relationship with Neal Smith—one that was definitely “on the rocks” at this point. She could not deny her feelings toward this man—admitting to herself that this was the first man she had felt any strong attraction for since Ben’s death. In spite of her feelings, however, she couldn’t deny her doubts about his honesty with her. She couldn’t shake a feeling of distrust and that was not good. She would just have to get over this, she resolved. It would probably be easier now that she felt pretty sure Neal wouldn’t try to contact her again—at least not anytime soon.

  Well, she thought. The cure for this is to stay busy and I do have to work today. She also knew that she would have to talk further with Danielle about her prior connection with the Honeyestewa family, hopefully, before she learned from other sources. Resolving to take care of this matter first thing, Lin headed to the shower to get ready for the day.

  She arrived at the visitor center about fifteen minutes early and was happy to see that Danielle was in her office alone.

  Lin knocked on the office door, “ Do you have a few minutes?” she asked, “ I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure,” Danielle replied, “ let me grab a cup of coffee first, you want one?”

  “I just finished breakfast but a second cup wouldn’t hurt,” Lin smiled.

  When the two of them were seated behind the closed office door, fragrant coffees in hand, Lin proceeded to tell Danielle all about her visit to the reservation. Danielle listened quietly but she seemed serious.

  “So, just what is it you hope to accomplish by sticking your nose into this family’s business?” Danielle’s question was pointed but she didn’t sound really angry.

  “In my own life, I have experienced the loss of someone close,” Lin spoke in measured terms, “ and I know that I could never have found closure if I hadn’t known what happened to Ben. It is difficult to live with questions and I felt that this family was not getting much consideration from the authorities.” Lin spoke with confidence. “ I think that they would appreciate whatever answers I might be able to find for them.”

  “I guess I understand how you feel,” Danielle spoke in thoughtful tones, “I must admit that I’m concerned because, even though you are a volunteer, you are affiliated with the park and I wouldn’t want anyone in a position of authority to think that park personnel were interfering in any way with a criminal investigation. We have to be careful about jurisdiction and areas of responsibility. We can’t afford to be seen as interfering in any such matters.”

  Lin tried to sound reassuring, “You know that Cullen Honeyestewa’s death was ruled an accident. There is no ongoing investigation at this time. I’m simply trying to find out any information I can regarding why he was in the park and what he might have been doing at the time of his death—whatever the cause. His family is puzzled and they need some answers.” Lin took a deep breath before she went on. “I realize that this recent discovery of more bodies in the area does raise some questions about the earlier death, but I’m in no way trying to look into what might have happened recently. The authorities are investigating that and I have no intention of interfering at all. In fact, I promise that should the sheriff’s department decide to reopen the investigation into Cullen’s death, I will stop asking any further questions and, if I learn anything that might relate to this current case, I’ll take the information straight to Deputy Taylor.”

  Danielle seemed to soften a bit. “ I suppose that what you do on your own time is up to you and I will not tell you what to do or what not to do—so long as you don’t interfere in this new investigation and so long as Cullen’s family has asked you to help find out what he was doing when he died. I do understand how hard it is to have unanswered questions but I do hope you will be discreet---and careful.”

  Lin smiled, “I will try on both counts. I just wanted to be up front with you and tell you what I’m doing and I will strictly limit myself to Cullen’s case.” In her own mind she added—“so long as it is still classified as unrelated to these new ones—She did not say this aloud, however.

  “ Agreed,” Danielle smiled, “ I think we are on the same page and I also think we have visitors in the center so you’d best get to work. We can talk more later—if we need to.”

  Lin hastened to the front desk and was soon too busy with visitors to think about anything else. The morning passed swiftly and she was surprised when lunchtime rolled around. Surprised, but glad, she had had no time to think about Neal Smith and his reaction to her questions of the previous night. Just as well, she thought. Work is the best medicine in this case.

  Toby came in to relieve her for a lunch break so Lin grabbed her hat and headed for her apartment. As she left the center she observed Danielle standing in the parking lot. She was talking to Deputy Taylor who had pulled his patrol car into a space near the curb. Lin was curious to know what was being said but she carefully avoided looking in that direction as she made her way home. She knew whatever was being said related to the recent discoveries and she didn’t want to appear to be going back on her words to Danielle earlier. She shoved her door open and scooted inside to her kitchen. Rummaging around in her refrigerator she found some cheese and a couple of slices of ham and proceeded to make a sandwich for her lunch. Looking outside through her front window, she saw that the patrol car had left so she grabbed a can of soda and went outside to sit under the tree while she ate. Danielle had vanished—probably taking her own lunch break.

  As Lin was finishing her sandwich and considering whether or not to go get a couple of cookies for dessert, she looked up to see Danielle heading her way with her own lunch in hand.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

  “Please do,” Lin indicated the vacant seat opposite, “ I was just considering getting some cookies for dessert—want some? They are peanut butter that I made last weekend.”

  “Sure,” Danielle said, “I’ll help you get rid of them.”

  Lin went back in and brought out the remains of her earlier baking spree and placed them on the table. She was dying to ask Danielle about her conversation with Deputy Taylor but she exercised her self-control.

  Danielle finished her sandwich and took one of the chewy cookies. “I guess you saw that Deputy Taylor stopped by earlier. He says they have made an arrest in this most recent case—no formal charges yet, just holding some guys as material witnesses, but he expects to file murder charges as soon as all the final reports are in. Thinks he has this case wrapped up and, if so, we can reopen Lomaki—maybe as early as the first of the week.”

  �
�Who has he arrested?” Lin hated to ask because she feared what the answer might be.

  “Michael Honeyestewa and his friend Teddy Begay,” Danielle reported, “Of course, you know about the belt buckle they found at the scene and, it turns out, the tire tracks found near that back road matched the tread on the Honeyestewa’s pick up truck—the one that belonged to Cullen. Michael’s grandparents admitted that they had given him the belt buckle and allowed him to take the truck to Flagstaff. Teddy was supposedly going with him to shop for a new belt. How they wound up in the park the grandparents did not know.”

  Lin could hardly digest this news. She had been concerned when she saw the belt buckle. She knew that tied the Honeyestewa family to the scene of this crime but she didn’t think that the young boy might be implicated—what a bitter pill for these grandparents and his mother to swallow! She didn’t know how to respond to this news. How would this affect her search for information? It seemed that these two incidents were becoming more entangled than ever!

  “That’s too bad,” Lin could think of no other response. Her first thought was that she wanted to visit this family again—she wanted to offer support and whatever comfort she could in this increasingly bad situation.

  “Did he have any more information?” she asked.

  “Yes, the ME has established the time of death for the two men as sometime during the weekend—most likely sometime on Saturday—no later than Sunday —but Saturday is the most likely time based on the state of the bodies when we found them on Tuesday.” Danielle finished her soda and rose from her seat—preparing to return to work.