Slickrock Paradox (26 page)

“It's a pot,” said Roger Goodwin on the phone. “It looks like early Pueblo design to me, as best I can tell.”

The first man disappeared back into the ruin and a moment later emerged again, this time with what was clearly a basket. He handled it gingerly. The second man entered the frame and took the basket and disappeared off frame again. The camera panned back and Silas could see that the two men had rigged a ladder to reach the second tier of ruins.

“That's what made the marks on the canyon walls,” Silas said.

“It goes on like this for a bit. They finish this dwelling and move onto the second.”

“Where was the camera?” asked Silas.

“Hold on a minute. You'll see.” Silas and Hayduke watched. After another few minutes the camera jiggled and turned around to face a young woman. She had a narrow face with light-brown skin and dark, almond-shaped eyes. She smiled sadly.

“So,” she spoke into the camera, “This is how I spent my summer vacation.” Then the camera was turned off.

“
That
was Kayah Wisechild,” said Roger.

“Is there a date on this file, Roger?” asked Silas.

“Yeah, it was shot June 11, two years ago.”

“That was right around the time that Peter Anton said he was doing the work for Dead Horse,” Silas added.

Silas clicked his mouse and the footage started again near the beginning. “I don't know who the man in the ruin is, but I'm willing to bet that the man taking the artifacts is Anton. It looks like him for sure. Just the way he walks . . .”

“I think the other man is Kelly Williams. I only met him once,” said Roger over the phone, “but I'm sure that the
FBI
could enhance this.”

“Roger, thanks for this. Do you think anybody knew Kayah took this?”

“No. I don't. If whoever killed her knew about it, they would have come looking. Given the date, she took it a few weeks before she disappeared . . . was killed . . . and sent it home for safekeeping. Maybe she was in on it and needed an insurance policy in case things went bad. Maybe she caught onto what Williams and Anton were up to and wanted evidence.”

“It's hard to tell where she is in this video.”

“I don't think she's on the rim above; there's Navajo sandstone behind her when she turns the camera around.”

“I think there is a ledge across from the ruins,” said Hayduke.

“Who's that?” asked Roger.

“That's Josh Charleston. Josh, meet Roger. Roger, Josh.”

“Call me Hayduke.”

“I don't think I will,” said Roger.

Hayduke shrugged. Silas asked, “You've been there?”

“Of course, with Penny.”

“You didn't tell me that.”

“Thought I did, sorry. I think I remember a talus slope and a ledge. I bet the girl was hiding there, making that video.”

“You think she might have been in on the raid?” asked Silas to Roger.

“I don't know. If you look at the expression on her face, it shows real sadness. I don't think she was in on it. I think she found out about it and took the video.”

“But didn't tell anybody? Just sent it home to end up in a sock drawer?” asked Silas.

“Maybe she told Anton that she didn't like what he was up to,” Roger speculated.

“He whacked her,” said Hayduke. Silas looked at him hard.

“What about Williams?” asked Roger.

“What if this Anton dude finds out that the girl is going to rat him out, kills her, and then to cover his tracks does the guy as well. No loose ends,” said Hayduke.

“One loose end.” Silas pointed at the screen.

SILAS DROVE HOME
to the Castle Valley in the dark. He and Hayduke had spent another two hours together pouring over the video, talking about the motivation of their possible suspects. Now he had to decide if he would let Katie Rain in on what he knew. He knew he should. He knew that the
FBI
would have far more resources to investigate the five suspects. How seriously would they take him when he went to them and said that two powerful business men, and a senator, were among those he suspected of killing not just Williams and Wisechild, but Penelope too?

He had only been in the door a few minutes when his phone rang. It was Katie Rain.

“You're still in Moab?” His call display said she was calling from Dexter Willis's office.

“You people are keeping me busy. I kind of like it here.”

“I was just debating whether to call you or not.”

“Well, I guess that debate is over. How are you doing?”

“I'm doing well. You mean, after having my place sacked and being interrogated on my picnic table, not to mention my culinary choices scrutinized—”

She laughed and then stopped. “Taylor went pretty easy. I've seen a lot worse.”

“I know he's just trying to do his job, and so are you, for that matter. Did you call to console me, or have you got something on Williams?”

“Obviously, we've looked into his past. He's an only child; both of his parents live in Durango.”

“How'd they take the news?”

“Relieved and grateful, I think. It's really hard on people when something like this drags on for years . . .” Silas was silent. “Said they wanted to meet the man who found their boy.”

“I think I've had enough of grieving parents for a while.”

“Williams was under investigation by the Antiquities branch of the
BLM
. You probably know that. He'd been on both sides of the law when it comes to Pueblo artifacts. The
BLM
was going to be turning a file over to us when he disappeared. Of course, we investigated, but didn't find him or anything conclusive.”

“Do you remember the location of the investigation?”

“You mean, which office? It was Taylor's—”

“No, I mean, where he was alleged to have been pot hunting?”

“Some place called Grand Gulch. You know it?”

“Oh yeah, I know it, big canyon full of ruins. It's what the government calls a ‘Primitive Area.'”

“Well, apparently it was believed that he was removing artifacts; not many—”

“The Gulch has been pretty picked over by legitimate, bona fide grave robbers from major universities over the years. Do you remember anything about Hatch Wash in his file? He worked on that site with Peter Anton and Dead Horse Consulting.”

“I don't remember the details. I'd have to look.”

“Can you?”

“Silas, what do you know about this?”

“Katie, I don't know if I can trust the
FBI
. You know, we've got a bit of a history, and frankly, I think that Taylor and Nielsen would be pretty happy to hang this on me and wash their hands of it.”

“You can trust me, Silas.”

“I
feel
like I can, but you're still the G.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“Alright, listen, I've got something that I think you guys are going to want to see.” He told her about the video, its origins, and what it contained. He told her about his list of suspects, and how each tied to Wisechild, Williams, and possibly even his wife.

It was Rain's turn to be silent. “Wow, you're damn right we're going to want to see it. Do you have it with you right now?”

“The memory card is with a friend down on the Hopi Reservation. He emailed the video to me. My computer is at my store.”

“Silas, this is important evidence. Taylor is going to want this. He's not going to be happy you got it before him.”

“It feels like nothing I do makes Agent Taylor happy.”

“This is serious.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Would you give me your friend's name? I'll call him and ask him to turn over the memory card. Taylor will likely find out you've got a copy sooner or later, but in the meantime this will help us learn more about what these three individuals were up to.”

“How about I call him and get him to call you?”

“Okay, deal. If I haven't heard from him by say, ten tomorrow morning, I'm going to have to take steps.”

“Kick in my door?”

“Something like that.”

“Fair enough.”

“We're likely going to have to go to this box canyon you're talking about. Can you give us the coordinates for it?”

“I could, or you could brace Peter Anton for them. He's the only one left alive from that video, and he seems to figure prominently in all of this.”

“We won't have enough to charge him, and relying on him for this info would risk long delays. His lawyer will try to make a deal. Can you help me out here, Silas?”

“How about I take you there?”

“Oh, a field trip.”

“Don't get too excited. I doubt there are any bones for you to play with.”

HE WANTED TO GET TO
Tim Martin and Jacob Isaiah before the
FBI
got hold of the video file from Roger Goodwin, so he started early. The night before, he'd called Roger, apologizing for getting him into such a mess, and asked that he arrange to turn over the file at 10:00
AM
sharp. He then called Katie Rain back and told her that Roger would meet the agents in Bacavi, on Third Mesa, to give them the memory card. That would give him enough time to confront both Isaiah and Martin, if he could find them.

Silas was in Moab by seven-thirty. He had carefully planned his first encounter. He parked at the Visitor Center and walked the two blocks to the Moab Diner. He knew Jacob Isaiah ate breakfast there most mornings, so he waited outside. Isaiah emerged a few minutes later.

“Good morning, Jacob,” he said.

The old man started. “Jesus Christ, don't sneak up on people like that. What the hell do you want, Pearson?”

“Just a minute of your time.”

“You going to pester me about your wife again?”

“Not this morning, Jacob. Come on, let's walk.”

“I'm going to my office. Some of us work for a living. You've got two blocks to state your business.” They walked north on Main Street.

“I'll get right to the point then, Jacob. I've seen a video of Peter Anton working with a man named Kelly Williams, the same man whose remains I found at Grand View Point. They were clearing a set of ruins in Hatch Wash, moving out pots and even baskets. I think they were working for you.”

Isaiah shook his head. “More goddamned accusations from you. First your wife, now you. What the hell is it with you people?”

“Did you know that Peter Anton and Kelly Williams were clearing that site? Did you ask them to?”

Isaiah was staring straight ahead when he answered. “No, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. There are no ruins in Hatch Wash. There's nothing there. People have been down in that canyon for years and never found a thing. If you think you're going to try and back me into a corner because I want to develop a resort on Hatch Point, you're out of your mind. Ruins or no ruins, it's no matter. I could care less. So could the
BLM
. It don't make a bit of difference to me. And no, I never asked anybody to clear a ruin I never heard of.”

“Dead Horse Consulting did the preliminary work for your environmental assessment. You weren't counting on them finding anything because nobody ever had, but they did. When they reported this to you, you told them to clear it out so that it wouldn't be an issue.”

“You must think you're pretty damn clever, Pearson. You seem to have that all figured out. So then what? I tell them to clear the ruins. So what? The ruins are still there. You think that if the
BLM
was so worried about disturbing Pueblo sites that just clearing them out of pots would make a difference?”

Isaiah stopped and looked at Silas.

“If there are Indian sites there, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference if they had pots or arrows in them. It wouldn't matter one fucking bit to my project up on the Mesa. Not one fucking bit.” Isaiah jabbed a crooked finger at Silas.

“So you didn't order Anton to clear them—”

“You're not listening to me. Your wife never listened either. I don't care about Indian sites. What I'm going to do up on that mesa won't matter one bit, even if you found the goddamned Cliff Palace there. You think that the kind of people who are going to come to my resort to play golf are going to hike down into that canyon?”

“I've heard you want to build some kind of gondola—”

“You've been talking with the conspiracy theory people, Pearson.”

“I read it in the documents you filed at the Grand County offices.”

“You spell out every possibility, but it's pie in the sky now—”

“Now that Canusa has found oil under Flat Iron Mesa?”

“That won't make a damn bit of difference either,” he said. “We'll do tours of the oil fields. Do an interpreter show about energy security. People will love it.”