CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The tribal council building stood at the administrative heart of the reservation—a modern structure whose architecture thoughtfully blended traditional elements with contemporary design.
As Kari and Ben approached the entrance, she noted the careful balance struck between authority and accessibility—large windows offering transparency while traditional symbols adorned supporting columns, reminding visitors of the cultural foundations beneath governmental functions.
Council was not in session today, but several members maintained offices in the building, working on committee business even when formal meetings weren't scheduled.
Following Kari's diplomatic call, explaining that they needed information about Jason Haskie's consulting work, Councilman Wilson Begay had agreed to meet with them.
"Remember, we're just gathering information," Kari said quietly as they checked in with the receptionist. "Nothing accusatory."
Ben nodded, his earlier discomfort still evident in his tight posture. "I know. Professional and respectful."
The receptionist directed them to Begay's office on the second floor.
As they walked through the building, Kari observed the numerous photographs lining the walls—past and present council members, historical moments in tribal governance, and community celebrations.
A visual reminder of continuity between generations of leadership.
Councilman Begay's office door stood open, revealing a well-organized space with bookshelves holding bound reports and policy manuals.
At his desk sat a man in his mid-fifties, his salt-and-pepper hair cut short, his button-down shirt and bolo tie suggesting an awareness of his role as both government official and cultural representative.
He rose as they appeared in his doorway. "Detective Blackhorse, Detective Tsosie," he said, extending his hand. "Wilson Begay. Please come in."
His handshake was firm, and his manner was direct but not unfriendly. Kari immediately sensed a man accustomed to balancing multiple responsibilities—someone who understood bureaucratic necessities while maintaining community connections.
"Thank you for making time to meet with us, Councilman," Kari said as they took seats across from his desk.
"Of course," Begay said, settling back into his chair. "I was shocked to hear about Jason Haskie. We were expecting his presentation this morning." He shook his head. "Instead, I got a call from Captain Yazzie about his murder. Terrible news."
"We're trying to understand what Mr. Haskie was doing on the reservation," Ben said, keeping his tone conversational. "Particularly why he might have been at Cottonwood Wash last night rather than at his hotel in Chinle."
Begay's brow furrowed. "Cottonwood Wash?
That makes no sense. His work was entirely focused on our vehicle fleet maintenance protocols.
The presentation was scheduled for 10 AM today in our main conference room.
" He gestured toward the window, where they could see the parking area where tribal government vehicles were stored.
"He'd been conducting a three-month assessment of our maintenance practices, helping us develop more cost-effective protocols. "
"How did you come to hire Mr. Haskie specifically?" Kari asked, opening her notebook in her lap.
"Professional recommendation," Begay said.
"He'd done similar work for the Hopi Tribe, and their fleet manager gave me his contact information when we were looking to update our own systems. His BIA background gave him unique insight into the particular challenges of reservation vehicle maintenance. "
"And when did you last speak with him?" Ben asked.
"Yesterday afternoon, around two o'clock," Begay said without hesitation.
"He called to confirm his arrival time and make sure the conference room would be set up with the projection equipment he needed for his presentation.
" He paused, leaning forward. "Why would he have been at Cottonwood Wash?
That's nowhere near his hotel or our offices. "
"That's what we're trying to determine," Kari said. "Did he mention meeting anyone else while he was here? Any side trips or additional appointments?"
Begay shook his head. "Not to me. His schedule was straightforward—arrive yesterday, check into his hotel, review his presentation, and deliver it to the council this morning.
" He hesitated. "I should mention that Jason's work wasn't controversial.
His recommendations were practical, cost-effective, and generally well-received by our fleet staff.
There was no conflict around his consultancy. "
"Was anyone on the council particularly interested in his work?" Ben asked. "Beyond the standard oversight?"
"The entire Infrastructure Committee reviewed his preliminary findings," Begay said.
"That's myself, Councilwoman Agnes Nez, Councilman David Silver, and Councilman Thomas Yazzie.
" He frowned. "But again, there was nothing controversial about his work.
It was routine maintenance planning, nothing more. "
Kari made a note of the committee members' names. "Did Mr. Haskie ever express interest in traditional sites or ceremonies?" she asked, watching Begay's reaction carefully.
The councilman looked genuinely confused by the question. "No, never. Our interactions were entirely focused on vehicle maintenance protocols. Jason was a pragmatist—interested in systems, efficiency, mechanical solutions." He paused. "Why do you ask?"
"We believe Mr. Haskie's murder may be connected to other recent killings," Kari said, deciding limited transparency might yield more helpful information. "The victims have been found at culturally significant locations, arranged in ways that suggest ceremonial elements."
Begay's expression shifted to one of concern. "I've heard rumors about bodies found with medicinal herbs. Is that true?"
Kari nodded. "We're exploring all possible connections between the victims."
"Jason wasn't traditional," Begay said, shaking his head. "He respected cultural practices, of course, but his work was firmly rooted in practical mechanics. I can't imagine why he would be targeted in... that way."
"Did anyone else on the council meet with him separately?" Ben asked. "Anyone who might have suggested he visit other locations while he was here?"
Begay considered the question. "Not that I know of. Though Councilman Silver did express particular interest in Jason's work. His background is in resource management, so he was especially concerned with fuel efficiency and vehicle longevity."
"Councilman David Silver," Kari said, thinking of her grandfather's partner. "Any relation to Remy Silver, who was with the tribal police in the 1970s?"
Begay looked surprised by the question. "Yes, that's his father. Remy Silver was a respected officer who worked with the department for many years." His expression grew curious. "May I ask why you're interested in that connection?"
"We're exploring historical cases that might have parallels to our current investigation," Kari said, keeping her explanation deliberately vague. "Remy Silver worked with my grandfather, Joseph Chee, on several significant cases."
"Ah," Begay said, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"You're Joseph Chee's granddaughter. I see the resemblance now—he had that same focused gaze.
" He leaned back in his chair. "Joseph was legendary in the department.
And yes, he and Remy Silver were partners for several years.
David speaks of his father with great respect. "
"Is Councilman Silver available today?" Kari asked, sensing a potentially valuable connection. "We'd like to speak with him as well."
"He should be in his office down the hall," Begay said.
"He chairs our Cultural Preservation Committee in addition to serving on Infrastructure.
" He paused, then added, "David has become one of our strongest advocates for traditional knowledge.
Interesting, given that his father was non-Native, but he was raised by his Navajo mother after his parents divorced. "
"Did his father maintain close ties with the family?" Ben asked.
"From what I understand, yes," Begay said.
"Remy was deeply respectful of Navajo culture.
David once mentioned that his father kept extensive journals about his experiences on the reservation—not just official police reports, but personal observations about cultural practices he encountered during his work. "
Kari felt a surge of interest at this information. "Personal journals? Separate from official records?"
"That's my understanding," Begay said. "David has referenced them occasionally during council discussions about historical preservation.
He seems to have inherited both his father's respect for traditional knowledge and his methodical approach to documentation.
" Begay checked his watch. "If you'd like to speak with him, now would be a good time. Council session begins at three."
"Thank you, Councilman," Kari said, rising from her chair. "You've been very helpful. If you remember anything else about Mr. Haskie's work or his movements yesterday, please contact us immediately."
"Of course," Begay said, standing to shake their hands again. "I hope you find whoever is responsible for these terrible acts. The community is already on edge with rumors circulating."
As they left Begay's office, Kari exchanged a meaningful glance with Ben. "Remy Silver's son," she said quietly. "And he has access to his father's journals."
"Could be valuable," Ben agreed, looking more at ease now that their conversation with Councilman Begay was over. "If Silver senior documented the original Shadow Walker cases the way your grandfather did, those journals might fill gaps in our understanding."