CHAPTER ELEVEN
Agent Paul Daniels had commandeered the department's main conference room, spreading case files across every available surface with the same meticulous precision Kari remembered from their previous collaborations.
He looked up from a stack of photographs as she entered with Ben, his expression that peculiar mix of professional neutrality and barely concealed frustration that seemed to define federal attitudes toward reservation investigations.
"Detective Blackhorse. Detective Tsosie." Daniels nodded, gesturing to empty chairs. "Good timing. We need to coordinate before this case gets any more complicated."
"Since when are the feds involved in this case?" Kari asked, surprised to see him.
"Professor Jennifer Holbrook was from Chicago," Daniels said.
"Her body was found at Antelope Lake early this morning.
Same signature—herbs in the mouth, ceremonial positioning.
The cause of death is different, sure, but the herbs alone tie the cases together.
This is now a cross-state investigation, which brings it under FBI purview. "
Kari noticed the conspicuous absence of any mention of the historical murders from 1973-74. "Have you reviewed the files we discovered on the original cases?" she asked. "The pattern—"
"Let's focus on current evidence first," Daniels said, his tone suggesting the topic wasn't up for discussion. "Standard FBI protocol for serial killings looks at present victims, recent patterns, forensic evidence—not fifty-year-old cold cases that may or may not be related."
This was familiar territory. During both the Skinwalker case and the uranium mine investigation, Daniels initially dismissed cultural and historical elements as irrelevant complications rather than crucial context.
Both times, he'd eventually been forced to acknowledge their significance when standard procedures failed to yield results.
"With respect, Agent Daniels," Kari said, keeping her voice professional, "the ceremonial aspects aren't just decoration. They're integral to understanding the killer's motives and methods. The specific herb combinations used are identical to murders from 1973-74."
"The herbs again," Daniels said with a sigh. "Look, I understand you believe there's a cultural element here, but these could simply be a signature the killer adopted from public sources about Native American practices."
"Public sources wouldn't include white prairie aster in the specific proportion found in these bundles," Ben interjected. "That knowledge comes from healing ceremonies rarely documented outside traditional communities."
Daniels leaned back, studying them both with the evaluating gaze of someone recalculating their approach. "You're convinced this connects to the old cases?"
"Five victims in 1973-74, all academics studying sacred sites," Kari said. "All killed with single stab wounds, herbs placed in their mouths post-mortem. The killer was never caught. Either he's returned after fifty years, or someone with intimate knowledge of those murders is recreating them."
"Five victims?" Daniels frowned, reaching for his laptop. "FBI records show only three murders with that signature from that period."
"Two weren't officially documented," Kari said. "One occurred on Hopi land, outside tribal police jurisdiction. The other victim's family refused investigation, insisting on immediate burial according to traditional practices."
Daniels was silent for a moment, processing this information. Then, surprisingly, he nodded. "After our last two cases together, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. What else have you uncovered?"
The shift in attitude caught Kari off guard, but she recovered quickly.
"We've identified connections between the original victims—all were involved academics.
My grandfather investigated those cases but I'm told he kept separate notes that weren't included in official files.
Notes we haven't recovered." She considered mentioning that she had recovered some of her grandfather's notes, but she decided to keep this information to herself for now.
They felt personal to her, and she didn't want to be asked to hand them over.
"Joseph Chee," Daniels said, recognition flickering across his features. "I remember hearing about him during my early years with the Bureau. Solid detective, by the sound of it."
He opened his laptop and began typing rapidly. "I've been busy, too. When I ran the herb signature through our database, I found similar cases in New Mexico and Utah—isolated incidents in the 1980s and 90s that were never connected to a larger pattern."
"How many cases?" Kari asked, leaning forward.
"Seven total over two decades," Daniels replied. "Each appeared to be a one-off, different jurisdictions, no apparent connections between victims beyond academic backgrounds. But looking at it now…"
"Practice runs," Kari murmured, the pattern suddenly clear. "The killer was refining technique before attempting the full ceremonial sequence."
They were all silent for several moments. Then Daniels cleared his throat. "What leads are you pursuing beyond the historical connections?"
Kari exchanged a glance with Ben. They had discussed Samuel Manuelito's name coming up during their conversation with Thomas Adakai, but she wasn't ready to focus FBI resources on that avenue yet, not without better understanding his potential involvement.
"Anyone stand out as particularly knowledgeable about the ritual aspects?" Daniels asked.
"Several community members have mentioned a local historian, Samuel Manuelito," Kari said, deliberately downplaying his significance. "He's written about traditional practices, including some ceremonial elements. But he's one of many we're considering."
"Academic background?" Daniels asked.
"Self-taught, mostly," Ben replied. "He runs tours for visitors, focusing on cultural sites and traditional knowledge. No formal connection to the victims that we've found yet."
"Keep him on the list," Daniels said, "but don't prioritize unless you find direct connections. Right now, I'm more interested in tracking down anyone who had access to the original case files—especially your grandfather's private notes."
The deflection worked perfectly. Kari felt a small surge of relief as Daniels moved on to discussing forensic evidence from the Holbrook crime scene, leaving Manuelito as just another name among many potential leads.
"The herbs found in Professor Holbrook's mouth were fresher than those used on Reynolds," Daniels said. "Lab analysis suggests they were harvested within 24 hours of the murder. Whoever our killer is, they have access to these specific plants and knowledge of proper harvesting techniques."
"That's not common knowledge," Ben said. "White prairie aster, in particular, must be gathered at specific times under specific conditions to maintain its ceremonial properties—at least according to traditional beliefs."
"Which brings us back to the cultural elements," Kari said, seizing the opportunity. "This isn't just someone following a recipe from a book. The killer understands the spiritual significance of each component."
Daniels closed his laptop with a sigh. "Alright, I'll concede we need to approach this with more cultural sensitivity than standard procedure suggests.
But I want regular updates on all leads, especially anything connecting to those historical cases.
And if you find your grandfather's private notes—"
"You'll be the first to know," Kari assured him.
"Good." Daniels stood, gathering his files. "I've arranged for additional forensic support from our Phoenix office. They'll be here tomorrow morning to review all evidence, including whatever you've collected from the 1973-74 cases."
As they left the conference room, Ben caught Kari's eye with a subtle nod. They had successfully navigated the meeting without drawing undue attention to Manuelito while securing Daniels' cooperation on the broader investigation.
Kari and Ben retreated to her office, closing the door for privacy.
"He took that better than expected," Ben said. "Usually takes him longer to accept non-standard investigation approaches."
"He's learning," Kari said. "Though I notice he's still avoiding the supernatural implications Elder Adakai mentioned."
"Can't blame him entirely," Ben replied. "The FBI doesn't have a checkbox for 'entity that walks between worlds' on their case report forms."
Kari smiled grimly. "Not yet, anyway." She pulled out her notebook, flipping to the pages where she'd recorded details about Samuel Manuelito. "We need to look deeper into Manuelito's background before Daniels decides to focus on him. If he's involved, we need to understand how and why."
"And if he's not," Ben added, "we need to protect him from becoming a convenient suspect for the FBI to pursue while the real killer continues the pattern." He sighed, blowing out his lips. "Where do we start?"
"With finding those private notes," Kari replied. "If Joseph Chee documented what he really found during the Shadow Walker investigation, those records might be our only chance to get ahead of the killer.