Page 7 of Long Pig

Willow looked around. “Could this be a burial ground?”

It was Dale’s turn to gaze at the narrow rock walls. “The Diné were known to bury their dead in secluded locations. Rock crevices, caves, or beneath a pinyon tree were the norm. I’m not counting it out, but they don’t cut up the bodies of their dead. The sheriff’s department will need a forensic pathologist to have a look at the bones so they know more.”

“I didn’t touch anything,” Willow said.

“Even if you did, it wouldn’t have mattered. This person is long dead. They’ll look for items in the area that might identifysomeone, but our prints won’t make a difference. We need to get home. I’ll call the department as soon as we get there.”

The shadows cast by the setting sun that usually held beauty felt eerie to Willow as they walked. Both of them carried small but powerful flashlights. Daisy and Max didn’t care; they ran around, sniffed, and did their business like usual.

Dale placed his cell on speaker when he made the call.

“This is Dale Berger,” he told dispatch.

“How are you, deputy?” the feminine voice asked.

“Hey Molly, not too bad. How about you?”

“Kids driving me crazy like always, but I can’t complain much. How can I help you?”

“I need to speak with a deputy,” Dale told her.

“Okay.” She hesitated. “Deputy Wallard is on duty and has the district to himself this evening,” she said.

“I’m unfamiliar with Wallard. He new?”

“He came from Gila County about six months ago.” She hesitated again. “You still out there with that pretty little thing?”

Dale looked at Willow and smiled. “Yeah, sold my property and I help Willow out now that her grandmother has passed. She’s adopted this old man and spoils me rotten.”

She laughed. “I’ll give Deputy Wallard your number and have him call,” she said hurriedly. “Stay safe.” The call ended.

“That was strange,” Dale said while shaking his head. His phone rang before he had a chance to set it down. He placed it on speaker again.

“Hey deputy, I didn’t want to say anything while we were on a recorded line.” It was the dispatcher.

“That’s okay Molly. What’s the problem?”

“Wallard is trouble with a capital T,” she said. “You know that mirror on the wall we have in dispatch?”

“Yeah, I remember it.”

“When he talks to us, he admires himself in the glass. I’ve never seen anything like it. Crystal, you remember Crystal?”

“If you mean Crystal, who works in dispatch, of course I remember her.”

“She has a sixteen-year-old daughter. Wallard couldn’t take his eyes off her. He then pulled her over twice and asked inappropriate questions. Crystal made a complaint. The complaint didn’t go anywhere, but when I say the man’s trouble, I mean it. Don’t let Willow out of your sight when the deputy is around. I’ve been hearing bad things.”

“Thanks for the heads up. If I could wait for another deputy, I would.”

“Understood. I just wanted you to know.”

“Appreciate it. Take care of yourself.”

“Will do. Stop by the center if you’re in town. I’ll get you inside.”

“Thanks Molly.”

Their call ended, and Willow looked at him questioningly.