CHAPTER EIGHT
The tribal social services building was a modest structure on the outskirts of the village, its parking lot mostly empty in the late afternoon. Kari and Polacca arrived first and waited in the vehicle, the silence between them still heavy with the tension from the crime scene.
Kari's mind was churning through the evidence, trying to see connections, patterns, motives.
Two victims, both involved in genealogical research, both killed and displayed at sacred sites.
The killer had detailed knowledge of burial practices, access to remote locations, and the confidence to work in the middle of the night without fear of discovery.
Before she could pursue that line of thinking further, her phone rang. The screen showed a number she recognized—Dr. Nakai, the medical examiner.
"Detective Blackhorse," Kari answered.
"Detective, I'm back in my office now, so I thought I'd call and update you. I've completed the preliminary autopsy on Patricia Lomahongva. I thought you'd want to know the findings before I file the official report."
"Go ahead."
"Cause of death was exsanguination from multiple stab wounds.
Seven distinct penetrations—three to the torso, four to the upper chest area.
The weapon was a knife with a blade approximately five inches long, single-edged, likely a hunting or utility knife.
The wounds show hesitation marks on the first strike, suggesting the killer wasn't experienced or was emotionally conflicted, but the subsequent wounds were delivered with increasing force and precision. "
Kari processed this, picturing the attack. "So the killer started uncertain but finished the job?"
"That's my interpretation. There's also evidence of a struggle—bruising on the victim's upper arms consistent with being grabbed forcefully, defensive wounds on her hands where she tried to protect herself. She fought back, Detective. She didn't go quietly."
Kari nodded, unsure whether to be encouraged or troubled by this. "Anything else?"
"The body was moved to the burial site within a few hours of death—rigor mortis patterns suggest she was positioned before full rigor set in, which would put the staging between midnight and two AM."
So the killer had held onto Patricia's body for several hours before arranging it at the site.
That suggested preparation, the need to wait for the right time when they wouldn't be disturbed.
And considering Robert had been murdered last night, too, it showed a lot of careful planning on the killer's part.
"What about the tissue under the fingernails?" Kari asked.
"I've sent it for DNA analysis, but that will take at least a week."
Kari tried not to show her disappointment in her tone. "Thank you, Dr. Nakai. This is helpful."
"I'll have the full report to you by tomorrow. And Detective? I'll be doing the Nuvangyaoma autopsy tonight. If there are any significant differences in the pattern, I'll let you know immediately."
Kari ended the call just as another vehicle pulled into the parking lot—a small sedan that parked two spaces away. A Hopi woman in her early forties emerged, dressed professionally in slacks and a cardigan, her expression showing confusion rather than concern.
"That's Emma," Polacca said, opening her door.
They met Emma at the entrance to the building. She was looking between them with puzzlement. "Officer Polacca, I'm happy to talk, but I'm not sure what's so urgent. I heard about Patricia, of course—everyone has. It's tragic. But I don't see how I can help with the investigation."
Kari and Polacca exchanged a glance. Emma didn't know about Robert yet. The news hadn't spread through the community, or at least not to her corner of it.
"Ms. Talayesva," Kari began carefully, "there's been another death. Robert Nuvangyaoma was found this morning."
Emma's face went pale. "Robert? What do you mean? What happened?"
"He was murdered," Polacca said. "Similar circumstances to Patricia."
"Oh my God." Emma pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Robert... we just talked two days ago. He was... oh my God."
"That's why we need to speak with you," Kari said gently. "Both Patricia and Robert were involved in the genealogical research project you coordinate. We need to understand that project, what they were working on, whether their work might have created conflicts with anyone."
Emma fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the building's front door. "I can't believe this. Two people. This doesn't make sense."
She led them inside to a small office, gesturing for them to sit while she moved around her desk like someone in a daze. She sat down heavily in her chair, still processing the news.
"Ms. Talayesva," Kari said, keeping her voice calm, "can you tell us about the genealogical research project?"
Emma took a deep breath, clearly trying to compose herself.
"It's a community initiative. We started it about eighteen months ago, working with university partners to provide DNA testing services for tribal members who wanted to understand their family histories.
The goal was healing—helping people connect with their ancestry, understand their lineage, recover knowledge that might have been lost through displacement or historical trauma. "
"And Patricia was the primary researcher?"
"Yes. She had the expertise in genealogy, the understanding of how to interpret the genetic data in the context of our tribal histories. Robert was helping her analyze the broader implications, looking at what the data meant for understanding Hopi history and cultural continuity."
"What kinds of things were they discovering?" Kari asked.
Emma hesitated. "That's... complicated. Genealogical research can reveal unexpected things.
Sometimes people discover they're related to families they didn't know they had connections to.
Sometimes, adoption or fostering arrangements that weren't formally documented become clear.
Sometimes..." She trailed off, choosing her words carefully.
"Sometimes the genetic data doesn't align perfectly with family oral histories or official records. "
"You mean it shows mixed heritage that people didn't know about?"
"Among other things." Emma straightened, looking ill at ease with this line of questioning. "But this is private information. These are people's family histories, their identities. I can't just share details about what was discovered."
"Two people connected to this project are dead," Kari pressed. "If their research revealed something that made someone angry enough to kill, we need to know what it was."
"I understand that, but there are privacy concerns.
Ethical obligations. These are real people's lives, their enrollment status, their standing in the community.
" Emma leaned forward, her expression earnest. "Detective, you have to understand—tribal enrollment is about more than just genetics.
It's about cultural connection, community acceptance, family ties.
If genetic data challenges someone's enrollment or questions their heritage, that's not just an academic issue. It's existential."
Polacca shifted in her chair. "Were Patricia and Robert planning to make their findings public?"
"There was going to be a community presentation next month.
Patricia wanted to share the broader patterns she'd found—nothing about specific individuals, just general observations about the complexity of Hopi ancestry, how interconnected families were, how the boundaries between tribes were more fluid historically than they are in modern enrollment records.
" Emma's voice was strained. "She thought it would help people understand that identity is about more than just genetics. "
"But not everyone would have agreed with that perspective," Kari said.
"No. Some people were very concerned about what the data might reveal.
About how it might be used." Emma stood and moved to a filing cabinet, opening a drawer and pulling out a folder.
"Patricia gave me copies of some of her work for safekeeping.
Backup files of her research, preliminary data.
But I've been instructed by the tribal council not to share this information without their explicit authorization. "
"The tribal council knows about the research?"
"They're aware that the genealogical project exists, yes. And they're concerned about the privacy implications, about potential challenges to enrollment if the data becomes public."
Emma set the folder on her desk but didn't open it. "I can't just give you this. There are legal and ethical issues involved."
Kari felt frustration building. "Ms. Talayesva, this is a murder investigation. That information might contain evidence that could help us identify the killer."
"I understand that. But I also have responsibilities to the families who participated in this project, who trusted that their genetic information would be handled confidentially.
" Emma's jaw was set now. "If you want access to this data, you'll need to go through proper channels.
Get authorization from the tribal council, present a compelling legal argument for why privacy should be breached. I can't just hand it over."
Polacca spoke up. "Emma, this is serious. The chief specifically asked Detective Blackhorse to investigate. Doesn't that constitute authorization?"
The backup surprised Kari—not just that Polacca was arguing on her behalf, but the conviction in her voice. They were becoming a team, she realized. Actually working together rather than just working in parallel.
"Investigating a murder—sorry, murders—doesn't automatically grant access to private genealogical data.
These are different things." Emma's voice softened.
"Sarah, I know you're just doing your job.
And I want to help. Patricia and Robert were good people, they deserve justice.
But I can't violate my ethical obligations. You understand that."
Kari understood, too, even as it frustrated her. Emma was protecting her participants, doing exactly what a responsible researcher should do. But that protection was also shielding whoever had killed Patricia and Robert.
Kari tried a different angle. "Can you think of anyone who might have been particularly upset by the research findings? Anyone who expressed anger or made threats?"
"No specific threats that I'm aware of. But there was general anxiety in the community.
Some elders felt that DNA testing was inappropriate, that it reduced cultural identity to genetics.
Some younger people were excited about it, seeing it as a way to reclaim knowledge that had been lost. The response was mixed. "
"And Robert's academic paper?" Kari gestured to the manuscript she'd brought from his office. "Did you know he was writing about the project?"
Emma's expression tightened. "He mentioned it. I told him I thought it was premature to publish before the community presentation, but he felt the academic perspective was important. We disagreed about the timing."
By the time they left Emma's office, the sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot.
Kari felt the weight of the investigation pressing down on her—two murders, connections that seemed obvious but led to dead ends, information locked behind privacy protections and password screens.
In the vehicle, Polacca started the engine but didn't immediately drive away. "What now?"
"Now we figure out how to crack Patricia's password," Kari said.
"Her computer is our best shot at understanding what she discovered.
The council isn't going to authorize releasing the genealogical data, not without more evidence that it's directly relevant to the murders. So we work with what we can access."
"You think you can crack it?"
"I don't know. But I have to try." Kari stared out the windshield at the tribal social services building.
"Everything comes back to that research.
Whatever Patricia and Robert discovered in those family histories, it was important enough to kill for.
The answer is in that data. We just have to find a way to access it. "