Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery (24 page)

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!

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 collectors 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.

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.

A strange feeling came over Lin.
 
How could the belt buckle have been left
at the crime scene on Saturday when she and Sue had clearly seen it on Sunday
at the Honeyestewa home? She had to talk to Deputy Taylor—something wasn’t
right here.

“Danielle, wait,” Lin called to the
ranger as she started to walk back to the center, “ I have to talk to Deputy
Taylor.”
 
She related the
information that she and Sue had seen the belt buckle in the family’s
possession on Sunday morning. “That means it could not have been at the crime
scene on Saturday.”

“Well, the report did allow for the
possibility the crime occurred on Sunday—it was quite warm last weekend
which might have affected the rate of decomposition,” Danielle offered.

“Perhaps,” Lin agreed, “but I still feel
that I should tell him what I saw.”

“Sure,” Danielle responded, “you can give
him a call from the center.
 
He was
going back to Flagstaff to his office when he stopped by.”

Lin determined that she must do just
that.
 
She knew that it was
sometimes hard to pinpoint a time of death precisely but that belt buckle was
clearly still in Moenkopi on Sunday morning and that truck was still there
too.
 
In fact, she remembered that
Michael had left to meet his friend right after the family returned from
church.
 
Even if his grandmother had
given him the buckle that afternoon—it was still pushing things to
suppose that he might have been in the park Sunday afternoon and involved in
these deaths—especially if Saturday were the more likely time of the
murders.

She went into Danielle’s office to use
the phone, with permission, so that she could speak privately, but when she
called for Deputy Taylor she learned he was still out so she would have to
leave a message.
 
She did that and
returned to her work—observing at the Wupatki ruin and talking to
visitors.

As the afternoon progressed, Lin tried to
put these developments at the back of her mind but it proved difficult.
 
She knew what a devastating effect this
arrest would have on the Honeyestewa family.
 
Things did not look good for Michael.
 
Even if the timing were in question, it
was clear that someone had transported that belt buckle to the scene of the
crime and in Cullen Honeyestewa’s truck. This did not look good for these
boys.
 

Lin was due to get off at three that
afternoon so she decided that, if Deputy Taylor hadn’t called by then, she
would drive into Flagstaff and try to speak to him personally.
 
Having made that decision, she managed
to finish her stint at the ruin with some degree of peace of mind.

Four o’clock found Lin pulling into the
parking lot at the law enforcement center on Sawmill Rd. in Flagstaff.
 
Several vehicles belonging to the sheriff’s
department were in view.
 
She could
hope that one of these belonged to Deputy Taylor.
 
Entering the new, modern facility she
approached the reception desk and asked if she could speak to the deputy.
 

“Just a moment,” the young lady at the
desk responded reaching for the phone, “whom shall I say wants to see him.”

“Lin Hanna, I’m a volunteer at Wupatki
and I have some information to give him regarding the case he is currently
working on.”

The young lady evidently reached the
deputy as she relayed this information.
 
“Please go on back,” she said indicating the hallway to the right of the
reception area, “it’s the second door on the left.”