CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kari spread the contents of Marcus Tso's satchel across the table in the small evidence room, carefully cataloging each item.
The leather bag had yielded a disturbing collection: photographs of all three victims, hand-drawn maps of the murder sites, bundles of the ceremonial herbs identical to those found in the victims' mouths, and—most troublingly—a stack of worn notebooks.
These were Kari's grandfather's missing notebooks.
"How did Tso get these?" she asked, puzzled.
Ben leaned over her shoulder, examining the journals with equal surprise. "They're not copies," he said. "These are originals. Look at the age of the paper, the fading ink."
Kari gently turned pages, confirming Ben's assessment. These weren't reproductions or forgeries—they were actual journals her grandfather had maintained during the original Shadow Walker investigation, just like the ones Yazzi had given Kari. Maybe these would contain additional clues.
"We need to question Tso," she said, carefully returning the journal to the evidence table. "Now."
They walked in silence to the interview room where Marcus Tso had been held since his arrest two hours earlier. The tour guide sat at the metal table, tense and still. He'd refused to speak since his initial statement to Ben at the scene, declining even basic procedural questions during processing.
As Kari and Ben entered, Tso straightened but maintained his silence, his eyes tracking them as they took seats across from him.
"Mr. Tso," Kari said, placing a folder on the table between them. "I'm Detective Blackhorse. We met briefly at the trading post."
No response.
"You're in serious trouble," she continued, opening the folder to reveal photographs of the evidence collected from the hogan.
"We found you conducting what appears to be a ceremonial ritual involving photographs of three murder victims. We found herb bundles identical to those used in the killings.
And we found these." She placed a photograph of her grandfather's journals on top of the other images.
Tso's eyes flicked to the photograph, then back to Kari's face, but he remained silent.
"These are my grandfather's personal journals," she said. "Joseph Chee, lead investigator on the original Shadow Walker cases fifty years ago. Journals that have been missing for decades." She leaned forward. "How did you get them?"
Tso's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Ben placed his own folder on the table. "We have enough to charge you right now, Tso.
Three counts of first-degree murder. The evidence is overwhelming.
" He tapped the folder emphatically. "You knew two of the victims, and maybe the third as well.
You have specialized knowledge of the ceremonial elements used in the killings.
You were found with missing case materials.
And now we've got you conducting some kind of ritual with the victims' photographs. "
"You don't understand," Tso said finally, his voice rough from disuse.
"Then help us understand," Kari said. "Because right now, everything points to you as our killer."
Tso closed his eyes briefly, seeming to wage some internal struggle. When he opened them again, resignation had replaced his earlier defiance.
"I'm not the killer," he said. "I've been trying to identify the killer."
"By conducting private ceremonies with victims' photographs?" Ben asked skeptically.
Tso's shoulders slumped. "It sounds absurd when stated that way. But yes." He rubbed his face with both hands, then straightened. "I've been attempting to make contact with the spirit of the original Shadow Walker to understand his methods and identify his successor."
Kari kept her expression neutral despite her surprise at this admission. "You believe you can communicate with a murderer from fifty years ago?"
"I believe ceremonial methods can reveal patterns and connections that conventional investigation might miss," Tso said, a hint of defensiveness entering his voice.
"I've been studying traditional practices for identifying malevolent influences since I was an undergraduate.
My thesis focused on purification ceremonies following violence. "
"How did you get my grandfather's journals?" Kari asked, bringing the conversation back to concrete evidence.
Tso hesitated before answering. "They were in the historical archives at the Cultural Center. Not cataloged officially—stored in a box of 'miscellaneous tribal documents' that was going to be discarded during renovation last year. I recognized their significance immediately."
"And instead of turning them over to the proper authorities, you kept them," Ben said.
"I was going to return them," Tso insisted.
"But then the murders started, following the exact pattern documented in those journals.
I thought I could use the information to identify the current killer, maybe even predict the next victim.
" He looked directly at Kari. "I wanted to solve the case your grandfather couldn't complete. "
"To be a hero," Ben said flatly.
Tso flushed. "To prevent more deaths," he corrected, though his tone lacked conviction.
Kari studied him carefully. His explanation was outlandish, yet something about his embarrassment seemed genuine. "You had access to both Reynolds and Holbrook before their deaths," she said. "They took your tours."
"Yes," Tso said. "They were both interested in sacred sites, both asked questions about traditional practices.
When I heard they'd been killed, I saw the pattern forming—academics studying cultural elements found dead at sacred locations.
" He leaned forward. "That's when I started reviewing the journals more carefully, trying to identify potential victims before the killer could reach them. "
"And Haskie?" Ben asked. "How does he fit the pattern?"
Tso shook his head. "That's what confused me.
Haskie wasn't an academic. His death doesn't match the victim profile from the original cases.
" He gestured toward the journals. "According to your grandfather's notes, all five original victims were researchers documenting sacred sites or ceremonial practices. "
Kari felt a chill at the casual reference to her grandfather's private observations. Tso had clearly studied the journals extensively. "Where were you the nights Reynolds and Holbrook were killed?" she asked.
"At home," Tso said, then grimaced at how weak the alibi sounded. "I live alone. No one can verify my whereabouts, but I swear I was not involved in these deaths."
"And last night?" Ben pressed.
"Leading an evening tour at Canyon del Muerto. Eight tourists can confirm my presence from 6 PM until nearly 10 PM." For the first time, Tso looked genuinely confident in his response.
Kari made a mental note to verify this alibi immediately. If true, it would eliminate Tso as a suspect in Haskie's murder, though not necessarily the earlier deaths.
"Let's assume for a moment you're telling the truth," she said. "That you're not the killer but some kind of spiritual detective trying to solve these murders through ceremonial means. Why keep this to yourself? Why not share what you've learned with the police?"
Tso grew visibly uncomfortable. "Would you have believed me? A tour guide claiming spiritual insight into ritualistic murders? I needed proof—concrete evidence connecting the current killer to the historical case—before approaching authorities."
"So you conducted unauthorized ceremonies, kept evidence that didn't belong to you, and generally obstructed an official investigation," Ben said, making no effort to hide his skepticism.
"I was trying to help," Tso insisted. "The killer is following a specific pattern, creating connections between worlds that shouldn't be bridged. The ceremonial elements aren't just symbolic—they're functional. They're creating openings."
"Openings to what?" Kari asked.
Tso met her gaze directly. "To whatever came through fifty years ago. To whatever has returned now to complete what was started then."
The room fell silent as his words hung in the air.
"I need a minute," Kari said, standing abruptly. "Ben, let's step outside."
In the hallway, she leaned against the wall, processing Tso's claims. Ben stood beside her, his expression troubled.
"You can't possibly believe him," he said quietly.
"I don't know what to believe," Kari admitted. "His story is outlandish, but something about his embarrassment when explaining his motives rings true. People lie to make themselves look better, not worse. And his alibi for Haskie's murder should be easy to verify."
"Even if he has an alibi for Haskie, he doesn't for Reynolds or Holbrook," Ben said. "And he has everything we'd expect our killer to have—knowledge, opportunity, ceremonial expertise, access to historical cases."
"I know," Kari said. "But my instincts say he's not our killer. Misguided, possibly delusional, definitely tampering with evidence—but not our Shadow Walker."
Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Either way, we've got the two remaining historical sites under heavy surveillance. Whipple Creek and Echo Cave each have a full tactical team in position, along with undercover officers. If our killer attempts to complete the pattern, we'll be waiting."
Kari nodded, though uncertainty still nagged at her. "We need those translations from Silver. His father's journals might contain insights even Joseph missed."
"We'll have them tomorrow," Ben reminded her. "In the meantime, we've finally got your grandfather's notes. That's a breakthrough in itself."
"True," Kari agreed. "I want to review them before deciding whether to charge Tso formally. Maybe they'll give us a clearer idea who could and could not have committed the murders."