As she continued to make notes, Lin began to realize that there were many elements that seemed to connect the two incidents. She was questioning even more strongly whether Cullen’s death had been the accident it seemed to be.
She began her list of questions yet to be answered but then realized that her coffee had grown cold and the hour was late enough to proceed on her visit. I’ll get back to this later, she thought. Perhaps I’ll know more answers after talking to the Honeyestewas.
A short while later she pulled up at the modest home of the Honeyestewa family. There was no sign of Cullen’s truck, still in police impound Lin thought, but it was evident that the other family vehicle, also a truck but an older model, was parked toward the back of the home.
The only person in view was Michael’s mother, Sophie, who was sitting on the porch shelling beans in a tin pan. Something about her reminded Lin of her own Mother who often spent her Saturday mornings similarly engaged. She remembered to wait to be invited in before exiting her vehicle. Actually, Sophie rose and walked toward her right away.
As she left her car and approached the porch Lin spoke, “I’m so sorry to learn about Michael and his friend being arrested. I wanted to come by and let you know I was concerned and to ask if there was anything I could do to help you at this time.” By this time Michael’s mother had led her to a seat on the porch where she sat down to resume her work.
“I doubt if there is anything anyone can do at this point,” Sophie spoke in solemn tones. “I believe Michael and Teddy are going to be charged and convicted of this crime. They will leave here for a very long time—their lives are over now.”
“Try not to lose hope,” Lin offered, “there are still facts which aren’t known about this case—I don’t believe the sheriff’s men have found the murder weapon yet—and I know that it wasn’t found at the crime scene. The investigation is not yet over.”
“But that belt buckle and those tire tracks were found,” Michael’s mother spoke with a catch in her voice. “Michael had that buckle and he drove that truck to Flagstaff last Monday—Teddy went with him.”
“That’s just it,” Lin tried to sound hopeful, “You and I both know that the belt buckle was here with your Mother and Father on Sunday when I visited with my friend. These dead men were probably killed on Saturday—Sunday at the latest—so Michael couldn’t have dropped the belt buckle on either of those days.”
“ The sheriff’s men do not believe us about Michael not going out until Monday. They think that Michael has told us to say that to protect him.”
“What does Michael say?” Lin asked.
“He won’t talk at all—he didn’t talk to the deputy when he came and he would not talk to me or to my parents either when we went to see him at the jail on Friday afternoon. He hasn’t explained how he came to be in that place—even if it was on Monday. My mother is so upset she will not come out of her room. She blames herself because she gave him the buckle and Dad let him use the truck. Now he is in trouble—big trouble.” The tears welled in Sophie’s eyes. “I know my son,” she was weeping openly now. “ He has been in some trouble here on the reservation—kid stuff, drinking sometimes, gambling, he has even been guilty of some petty thefts, but he is not a killer. He doesn’t even know how to handle a gun!”
“Michael has even stopped some of his old habits lately. He has been working hard for Raymond Tso in the shop and doing other things—Teddy too. The boys are both trying to straighten up, I believe. If they can work off their debts they can go back to school. I really believe that Michael wants to do this—I can’t think that he is really mixed up in these killings in this way. I just wish that I could talk to him.” Sophie was clearly distraught.
“What about his attorney?” Lin asked, “Maybe Michael will talk to him.”
“He hasn’t so far,” Sophie seemed so down and discouraged. Lin wished she had something more comforting to offer.
“Have you talked to his lawyer?” she asked.
“Just for a little while, Friday afternoon,” Sophie offered, trying to regain her composure. “He says Michael is not cooperating with him, nor is Teddy. If the boys will not talk to him, he can’t defend them.” The tears were flowing freely again, “I really do not know what to do to help my son.”
Seeking to offer some hopeful news. Lin told Sophie she had visited Deputy Taylor and had told him about seeing the belt buckle on Sunday. She didn’t mention that he had seemed to reject this news as being significant—saying the time of death could be as late as Sunday.
“Maybe, if I could talk to Michael’s lawyer and share this with him, it would help. Maybe, if Michael knew, he would be more willing to talk about why and when he was near that crime scene. It seems clear that he was there—but we don’t know the rest of his story.” Lin sought to be reassuring, although she didn’t feel too good about this herself.
“Just a moment,” Sophie excused herself and went into the house. Soon she returned with a business card. It belonged to David Cameron and gave his number at the public defender’s office. Thanking Sophie for sharing this, Lin copied the name and number into her notebook, returning the card.
“I will call him,” Lin promised—first thing on Monday morning. “Do you think it would help if I could talk to Michael and let him know I believed in him? Maybe I could talk to him about the importance of talking to his attorney—even if he does not want to talk to anyone else.”
Sophie’s eyes seemed to brighten just a little—“ The deputies will only let family members visit the boys in jail,” she offered, “ but maybe, if you were with me they would let you go in—if you would be willing to do that.”
“Of course I would,” Lin offered Sophie her hand, “I would be glad to do that—when are you going again.”
“ I can’t go before Monday, I’m working at the store down the street now—just helping out on weekends and I have to work tomorrow,” Sophie offered.
“I’ll probably be there about one o’clock. I’m going to take Michael some home-cooked food,” she indicated the beans, “ these are favorites of his—that and mutton stew.” She almost smiled.
“I’ll meet you there at one—in the jail parking lot,” Lin realized the timing might be close as she had to work until noon at the visitor center. “If I’m a few minutes late just wait for me—I’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” Sophie seemed calmer. “I still think this situation seems hopeless for my son but it is good to have someone else believe what we are saying about him.”
“I understand,” Lin offered. “We know that Michael couldn’t have been there when those men died. Now we just have to find out when he was there and why.” Giving Sophie an embrace she turned to go—realizing that Mother’s all enjoyed a bond that was born of understanding how close one felt to one’s children—regardless of culture. She could only imagine how she would have felt had either of her kids been accused of such a crime at such an early age—at any age for that matter!
As Lin drove away from Moenkopi back toward the park, she felt a renewed resolve to push ahead with what she was doing. Yes, this was the recent case that she was looking into—in spite of her promise to Danielle; however, Michael was Cullen’s nephew and the most important pieces of evidence thus far were tied directly to Cullen Honeyestewa—there was no way, at least in Lin’s mind to separate these cases.
Chapter 19
Neal Smith sat back in his chair at Macy’s Coffee Shop. Where was John, he worried? He promised to be here by ten and it was nearly half past. After his evening with Lin ended as it did, he had become increasingly concerned by this new murder case that had arisen. Of course, he had no connections at all to the two most recent victims himself, but he did remember that Darren Steele, one of the recently identified victims, had been working for John last year when the botched deal for the pottery happened. Neal had never personally met Steele but he knew that he was the person who was supposed to contact Cullen Honeyestewa and get the goods from him.
Steele had disappeared and Cullen had turned up dead. Now Steele was dead.
All of this seemed to Neal to be linked together somehow and he was fearful of his link to Cullen finally coming to light. He knew that Lin didn’t believe him when he insisted he didn’t know the man—when would the authorities make a connection? He was frightened. After that pottery deal fell through last year he had wanted to continue to hunt for the items that were supposedly hidden somewhere in the park. He had even felt he might find them while working with his students but, as the situation became more critical after Cullen’s remains were discovered and this most recent killing occurred, he began to wish he had never gotten involved in the first place. What had he been thinking when he agreed to help Cullen sell those pots! He knew that he would never do anything like that again, if only his previous connections would not come out in this current investigation.
The waitress came by and refilled his empty coffee mug. “Do you wish to order anything more?” she queried.
Feeling that he needed some excuse to remain longer, Neal ordered a cinnamon roll. Just as the warm, fragrant pastry was placed in front of him he looked up and saw John Sessions enter the restaurant.
“Sorry,” John seemed a bit out of breath, “ didn’t mean to be so late but I had a meeting with a new client this morning and it went longer than I expected. I would have called but I didn’t want her to feel rushed. It should be a great sale for me.”
“Good,” Neal responded, “I was beginning to worry a bit. I really need to talk to you about this situation out at Wupatki.”
“What now,” John spoke with impatience, “ I thought I told you to just sit tight and not say anything. It will all blow over eventually. In fact, I just learned that the sheriff has already made arrests in this most recent event—two native teenagers I believe.”
“I had not heard that,” Neal responded, “Do you know who they are—have the names been released?”
“Not yet, at least I have not heard such yet, but I feel sure they will be soon when formal charges are filed. Even if they are juveniles they will be charged as adults if they are over sixteen.”
“That is good news,” Neal tried to sound more relaxed, “ but I am still concerned.”
He went on to explain to Sessions about his talks with Lin and her suspicions regarding his connection to Cullen. “Even if the two cases are not connected, she seems determined to pursue Cullen’s death and she may discover that Darren Steele once worked for you also.”
“Yeah, I know she is sticking her nose in where it does not belong—minding everyone else’s business. She came to see me about a business card—that had your phone number on it, by the way. I didn’t tell her anything and you should keep quiet too. I tell you it will all blow over when these two kids are charged and convicted of murder.”
“I do hope so,” Neal rose to leave. He had a meeting with a student coming up shortly. “I can’t afford to have any link to any of this mess—however remote,” he said. “In fact, I’m sorry I ever tried to help Cullen sell those pots. It could have ruined me. I wanted to let you know that I’m giving up the search for these items. I can’t get out to the site with students anyway—the police have it closed—and I can’t afford to get mixed up in this current mess. You can count me out of this business altogether,” Neal was emphatic as he turned toward the door.
Sessions reached up and grabbed his sleeve, “Fine, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut about all of this. You’ll regret removing yourself from any future deals—in fact, business is better than ever—but that is your loss. Just know that if I encounter any problems in the future, I will know where to look,” his voice was low, so as not to be overheard—but his meaning was unmistakable.
***
John Sessions watched as Neal Smith left the coffee shop and turned left, presumably heading for his car. He sat back in his chair, not wanting to leave as yet. Signaling for the waitress, he asked for more coffee and ordered a sandwich to go for lunch. He was certain that his conversation with Neal could not have easily been overheard, no one was sitting nearby, but he did not want to appear to be leaving in a hurry—keep everything normal. The pause, while he waited for his sandwich to come, afforded the opportunity to review his morning thus far. In his view, except for the minor glitch caused by Neal’s being upset over nothing, it had been a stellar day thus far.
He was especially excited about his new customer. The lady who had met him at the gallery prior to its usual opening time seemed very well heeled and quite interested in collecting native art and artifacts—especially old, authentic pottery. She had provided him with a good bit of background information so he felt she was a knowledgeable collector who knew what she was looking for but, at the same time, one who would not ask too many questions about provenance. Now he simply had to produce items he felt she would actually be interested in purchasing. He already had a few things, he thought, but a really well heeled collector would expect more. He had promised to meet with her again in two weeks to discuss specific items that might be available. He now felt it was more imperative than ever that he locate the missing pottery which Cullen Honeyestewa had promised to deliver before he met his untimely end.
Sessions was still convinced that these pots were located somewhere near that box canyon in Wupatki. The fact that Darren Steele’s body had been found near there was proof of that. It had been more than a year since Sessions had contacted Lee Chou in Santa Fe about the pots and he felt safe in proceeding with this new customer on his own, without letting Chou in on the deal. After all, Chou was simply the link to a broad customer base and now he was building a base of his own! Maybe Steele was trying to work for Chou, or for someone else, but his death ended that connection. Now it was up to him alone. Without help from Smith and his students he would simply take over the search himself. He smiled at the thought that he would not have to share his money from this deal—and future deals—with anyone.
***
Sue Gray hurried back to her apartment at Walnut Canyon. She didn’t want to be late reporting to the visitor center. Quickly she changed from the business suit and heels that she had worn to her meeting with Sessions and donned her volunteer uniform. Quite a change from Mrs. Susanna Grayson back to Sue Gray! She had been up quite late the night before doing research regarding southwestern art and artifacts, as well as what was known about “under the table” trading. She felt sure that Sessions was impressed by her knowledge when they met and that he did not question her position as a collector—at least not yet. Of course, he could conduct a thorough background check which would, no doubt, expose her but, hopefully, he would not do that—at least not right away. After all, he could ill afford a similar background check on himself so mutual trust seemed to be firm for now. She viewed the change in her appearance in the mirror. Honestly, she didn’t think he would even recognize her in her current clothing and with make up and jewelry removed.
Sue had agreed to a second meeting in two weeks to discuss specific possible purchases. Perhaps that would not even be needed if this case were concluded by then. She could simply call and cancel—saying that she had changed her mind for now. She was convinced from this first meeting that Sessions conducted at least some illegal business on the side—apart from his regular gallery sales. Much as Sue would like to expose an illegal art ring, the first order of business was simply to determine if there was a connection here between the men who were dead and possible theft of art. There was nothing concrete as yet but Sue felt it was certainly an avenue worth exploring further. As she walked to the visitor center she determined that she needed to talk to Lin and let her know what she experienced as soon as possible. Tomorrow was a Sunday and Sue knew that they both had to work. She would have to check with Lin—maybe they could get together on Monday if not earlier.
Chapter 20
Lin awoke early on Monday morning eager for her meeting that afternoon with Sophie and, hopefully, a visit with her son at t
he jail. After her visit to Moenkopi on Saturday, she was more convinced than ever that the wrong people had been arrested for this crime. There were so many unanswered questions though. The more she learned the more complex this situation seemed to be.
Lin didn’t have to report to the visitor center until opening at nine. She was only working until noon today. She’d worked a full day on Sunday and it had been a busy one. She’d scarcely had time to think about anything else. Now she welcomed having an extra bit of time before her day began in earnest. She decided to get some exercise before she showered so she donned some sweats and headed out to Woodhouse Mesa. She felt a small bit of satisfaction when she wasn’t as winded upon reaching the top as she’d been on her first foray. Maybe she was getting into a little bit better shape. Still, she knew that she needed to give more time to walking and other exercise. Maybe when this mystery was solved.
After enjoying the view atop the mesa for a short while, she headed down—but not before noticing a sheriff’s department vehicle pull into the parking lot below. Her curiosity was aroused—maybe Deputy Taylor was bringing more information to share about this current case? She knew that Danielle was probably already at work in her office but the center was still closed.
Lin didn’t try to hurry; she knew she would never reach the center before the early visitor left but she did determine that she would ask if there was any news about this case. Now was not the time to squelch her curiosity. These recent murders were related to Cullen’s death somehow—she knew that.
When she arrived at her apartment, she noticed that the patrol car had already left. She still had an hour before she was due to report for work so she showered and dressed quickly; she took a cup of coffee and a warm toasted bagel outside to enjoy breakfast. It was a beautiful spring morning. The surrounding mesas and hills were bathed in a golden glow and the air carried the warm scent of sage. Lin spotted several robins hopping about. She’d been surprised to learn that migratory groups of these spring birds usually visited the park this time of year.
Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery Page 21