Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery (26 page)

“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.

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.