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CHAPTER 35

ISABELLA LOOKS LIKE she’s on the verge of a panic attack. Her limbs are trembling, her breathing is rapid and erratic. Her eyes have become moist with tears that threaten to overflow and spill down her cheeks. She closes her eyes and puts her head in her hands—as if blocking everything out and trying to focus on her memories.

Carlos, Ava, and I exchange looks. I can tell from Ava’s expression that she doesn’t want to push Isabella any further. She wants to end the interview, but Carlos raises a hand with his index finger extended. The meaning is clear—let’s wait a moment longer and see what happens.

As uncomfortable as this might be for Isabella to face, the life of at least one woman—and maybe more—depends on her memory. Any clue could give us the lead we need in order to break open the case.

Isabella balls her fists up in her hair and squeezes her eyes tightly shut, as if focusing hard might open memories that have been inaccessible. She’s clearly gone from feeling scared to feeling angry.

Finally, she opens her eyes and slaps her hands down on the table. “I can’t,” she says, exasperated. “I just can’t. There’s nothing in my memory. It’s all blank.”

Ava, Carlos, and I all indicate that it’s okay, that she doesn’t need to strain herself anymore.

“We’re sorry we had to put you through this,” I say.

Ava asks that if Isabella does remember anything—no matter how irrelevant it might seem—would she please let us know?

“Of course,” she says, offering us a sad smile. “I wish I could help. I really do.”

Ava walks her to the car while Carlos and I wait in the lobby. After a minute, Isabella is smiling again, and I wonder if we made a mistake with all three of us trying to interview her. Maybe Ava had been right and she should have talked to her, woman to woman, Tigua to Tigua.

When Ava returns to the station, we spend a few minutes talking about the interview and how disappointed we are that it didn’t give us any new leads. But we don’t dwell on our setback. We push ahead.

Ava has developed a plan for the three of us to take care of the out-of-state interviews and investigations we’ll need to conduct. She figures we can split into two groups, one to head east to Houston and the Kickapoo reservation to interview as many people as possible associated with the missing woman from that area, Tina White Wolf. The other group will head to southern Colorado to learn about the disappearance of a woman named Chipeta Tavaci, and then swing west over to Flagstaff, where we can talk to family members of the recently vanished Fiona Martinez. Because the Colorado-Arizona team will be conducting interviews about two women, and whoever goes east to the Upper Gulf Coast area will only be researching one, Ava recommends that she and I head north while Carlos stays in Texas.

“If we split up into two groups,” she says, “it will only take three or four days, and we’ll have a much better understanding about the circumstances surrounding all of these missing women.”

“Why don’t we split into three groups?” I ask. “Then it will go even faster.”

But Carlos agrees with Ava. As Texas Rangers, he and I can travel out of state without much trouble. We just have to notify the police agencies wherever we travel, and because of the badge we wear, we won’t get much pushback. But when it comes to county or city police, Ava might not get the same kind of cooperation. On the flip side, Ava might be able to get further than I can when it comes to working with tribal police in other states.

As it turns out, Ava and I need each other.

With a Texas Ranger and a tribal policewoman, we should be able to get reasonable cooperation regardless of whether we’re dealing with state, county, or tribal police. Meanwhile, Carlos will go to Houston and the Kickapoo reservation. His mom was a full-blooded Kickapoo—his father Comanche and Mexican—and he knows that part of Texas well.

“When should we leave?” I ask.

“How about bright and early tomorrow?” Ava asks.

“Why wait?” Carlos says. He checks his watch. “We could be on the road by noon.”