Page 15 of Close By (Kari Blackhorse #1)
Names had power. Every culture knew this truth, but the Diné lived it.
As Kari arranged her case notes on the conference room table, she thought about what to call their suspect.
“Killer” was clinical, detached. “Murderer” acknowledged the moral dimension.
“Perpetrator” was bureaucratic jargon that wouldn’t resonate with the officers gathering outside.
“Monster” would be emotionally honest but professionally suspect.
The label she chose would shape how the department approached the investigation, what details they prioritized, what shadows they searched. Kari had learned this lesson in Phoenix, where naming conventions often determined which cases received resources and which languished in filing cabinets.
“Ready?” Tsosie asked, interrupting her thoughts as he set up the digital projector.
“Almost,” Kari said, organizing crime scene photos in a deliberate sequence—first Harrington, then Delgado, emphasizing similarities while acknowledging differences. “I want to focus on the ritualistic elements without sensationalizing them.”
“Smart,” Tsosie agreed. “Last thing we need is panic about supernatural killers.”
Outside the conference room windows, Kari could see the department assembling—patrol officers in khaki uniforms, detectives in button-downs and casual slacks, administrative staff curious about the emergency meeting. Captain Yazzie stood near the door, talking quietly with his senior lieutenant.
Kari had just arranged the final photographs when the door swung open with unnecessary force. Paul Daniels strode in, followed by two agents Kari didn’t recognize—a tall woman with cropped blonde hair and a younger man carrying a laptop case.
“Good, you’ve got the room set up,” Daniels said, as if he’d assigned the task. “We need to make a few adjustments before the briefing.”
Kari straightened. “We’re ready to start, Agent Daniels. I was about to call everyone in.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a comprehensive profile,” Daniels continued, either missing or ignoring her tone. The female agent moved to the laptop, disconnecting Tsosie’s flash drive and inserting her own. “Bureau resources give us certain advantages in these situations.”
“This is our department briefing,” Kari said, fighting to keep her voice level. “Detective Tsosie and I have prepared—”
“Captain Yazzie and I have discussed this,” Daniels interrupted with the smooth confidence of someone accustomed to taking control. “Given the potential for a serial killer operating on reservation land, the Bureau’s Behavioral Analysis expertise takes priority.”
Kari glanced at Tsosie, who stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight. Before either could respond, Captain Yazzie entered, followed by the assembled officers and staff.
“Everyone take a seat,” Yazzie instructed, his weathered face revealing nothing of whatever arrangement he’d made with Daniels. “We need to move efficiently. There’s a killer on our land, and time is critical.”
Kari stared at him, trying to convey an unspoken question: You gave the green light on this? The captain met her eyes and gave her a brief nod.
Realizing she had no other choice, Kari stepped aside as Daniels positioned himself at the head of the conference table.
She took a seat beside Tsosie, acutely aware of the power dynamics playing out before her colleagues.
To challenge Daniels now would create division precisely when unity was needed.
And it would be futile, since apparently the captain had his back.
“For those I haven’t met, I’m Special Agent Paul Daniels, FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Daniels began, his voice effortlessly commanding the room.
“These are Agents Keller and Watkins from our Flagstaff field office. We’re here because in the past seventy-two hours, two individuals have been murdered on or near Navajo land with distinctive ritualistic elements that suggest a pattern. ”
The female agent advanced through slides showing sanitized versions of the crime scene photos—less graphic than those Kari had prepared but still sufficient to convey the ceremonial positioning.
“Dr. Mark Harrington, geology professor, was killed three nights ago near Spider Rock. Rachel Delgado, environmental activist, was killed early this morning approximately three miles from the first site.” Daniels paused, letting the information sink in.
“Both victims were non-Navajo. Both were conducting unauthorized activities on sacred land. Both were killed and arranged in a manner suggesting ceremonial significance.”
Murmurs rippled through the assembled officers. Kari noted the careful emphasis Daniels placed on “unauthorized” and “sacred”—subtle but deliberate framing.
“Based on preliminary analysis,” Daniels continued, “we’ve developed a subject profile.”
The screen changed to display a bullet-pointed list that made Kari’s stomach tighten:
Male, 30-50 years old
Navajo, deeply connected to traditional practices
Extensive knowledge of ceremonial rituals
Probable history of conflict with authorities over land use/sacred sites
Likely resides on reservation, knows terrain intimately
Perceives victims as threats to cultural/spiritual integrity
“We’re looking for a traditional Navajo male with deep resentment toward outsiders who trespass on sacred lands,” Daniels said. “Someone who believes himself to be a protector of cultural boundaries, punishing those who cross them.”
Kari couldn’t remain silent any longer. “Agent Daniels, this profile contradicts physical evidence from both scenes.”
All eyes turned to her. Daniels smiled with patronizing patience. “Detective Blackhorse has been invaluable in the initial investigation. Please, share your perspective.”
The condescension was expertly calibrated—acknowledging her contribution while undermining her authority. Kari stood, refusing to be diminished.
“The ceremonial elements at both scenes contain significant errors,” she said, addressing her colleagues directly.
“The positioning, herb placement, and directional alignments are inconsistent with authentic Navajo practices. These aren’t the mistakes someone ‘deeply connected to traditional practices’ would make. ”
“Detective Blackhorse is referring to minor variations in ritual elements,” Daniels interjected smoothly. “However, ritual killers often develop personalized versions of ceremonies, incorporating elements that have personal significance.”
“These aren’t minor variations,” Tsosie said, his deep voice carrying natural authority. “They’re fundamental misunderstandings of ceremony structure. They suggest someone with academic rather than lived knowledge.”
“Like an anthropologist or scholar,” Kari added, “who has studied ceremonies but never participated in them.”
Daniels’s smile tightened. “An interesting theory, but contradicted by the crime scenes themselves. The killer navigated difficult terrain in darkness, knew exactly where to find the victims, and demonstrated intimate knowledge of the landscape. Those aren’t traits typically found in academics.”
“Unless they’ve specifically studied that area,” Kari countered. “Harrington was a geology professor documenting those exact formations. Delgado was an environmental activist familiar with remote locations.”
“Speculation,” Daniels dismissed. “What we know definitively is that both victims were killed on or near sacred sites while engaged in activities that could be perceived as disrespectful to Navajo traditions. The profile points to someone defending those traditions.”
The implication hung in the air—that they should be looking among their own people, perhaps even among those in the room. Kari saw several officers shift uncomfortably.
Captain Yazzie intervened. “We’ll consider all possibilities.
For now, I want increased patrols near archaeological sites and tourist areas.
Nobody works alone until we resolve this.
Agent Daniels will coordinate with our detective division while Agents Keller and Watkins establish a command post here. ”
“We’ll also need complete access to your records system,” Daniels added, as if it were already decided. “Agent Watkins will handle the technical integration.”
The meeting continued with assignments and protocols, but Kari barely heard them.
She watched Daniels command her colleagues’ attention, building momentum behind a profile that felt not just wrong but dangerous—one that would direct suspicion toward traditional Navajo while ignoring other possibilities.
When the briefing concluded, officers filed out with grim determination. Kari remained seated, collecting her unused notes while Daniels conferred with Captain Yazzie near the door.
“He completely undermined us,” she said quietly to Tsosie.
“That’s what the feds do,” Tsosie replied, his expression stoic but his eyes revealing his frustration. “Come in, take over, look for the easy answer.”
“The ceremonial errors aren’t minor details—they’re the key to the killer’s identity. How does he not see that?”
Daniels approached as the room emptied, his federal colleagues already setting up equipment at a nearby desk. “Kari, I understand your frustration, but this is how these cases work. Bureau resources and experience take precedence.”
“Your profile is wrong,” Kari said bluntly.
“Based on what?” Daniels’s tone remained pleasant, but his words cut. “I need investigators who follow evidence, not cultural superstitions.”
This dismissal ignited something deep in Kari’s chest. “The ceremonial inconsistencies are evidence, Agent Daniels. Just not the kind you’re trained to recognize.”
“Look,” Daniels said, softening his approach, “I know your connection to the community is important to you. But don’t let it cloud your judgment. Your father taught you better than that.”
The invocation of her father felt like a deliberate provocation. “My judgment is perfectly clear,” Kari replied. “And it tells me we need to explore alternative suspect profiles.”
“All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind,” Daniels said, as if he was actually doing that himself. “Now, I’ll need your case notes and access to the department database. Agent Watkins will help transfer everything to our system.”
Kari glanced at Tsosie, an idea forming in her mind. “Detective Tsosie can help with the database access. He knows our system better than anyone.”
Tsosie caught on immediately. “It’s an older system. Takes someone who knows its quirks to navigate efficiently.”
“Perfect,” Daniels said, clearly pleased by their apparent cooperation. “And Kari, you can walk me through the case notes.”
“Actually,” Kari said, gathering her files, “I need to follow up on something time-sensitive. A connection to Harrington’s research that might establish how he selected that specific location.”
Daniels frowned. “What connection?”
“Professor Harrington consulted with scholars at Canyon State University’s anthropology department about sacred sites in the canyon,” Kari said, not entirely untruthfully. “I need to interview them before word spreads about the second murder and they start withholding information.”
Daniels seemed to weigh this, clearly reluctant to let her operate independently but unable to dispute the investigative logic. “Fine. But I want updates every hour, and full notes when you return.”
“Of course,” Kari agreed, grateful for Tsosie’s silent support as Daniels turned his attention to the database access.
As she left the conference room, Kari caught Tsosie’s subtle nod.
He would keep Daniels and his agents occupied, buying her precious time to pursue their actual lead—not the academics who’d consulted with Harrington, but someone who might understand how a person could learn enough about ceremonies to mimic them without understanding them.
Someone who had been in direct contact with Harrington.
Her father.