Page 35 of Dead Mountain

Nora heard Tenorio’s low-pitched answer. “This discussion is over.”

“But the sheriff—!”

Tenorio turned away and walked back from the entrance, his face dark, while Baca continued to yell up at them from below. “I’m warning you! The sheriff’s coming up here himself!”

“Who the hell is he to tell you what to do?” said Skip angrily. “This was all Isleta land once, right? Before the Europeans stole it?”

“Yes,” said Tenorio. “But let’s just focus on the work.”

“He can kiss my ass!” Skip said loudly.

“Easy now,” said Nora.

They put on knee pads, masks, and gloves, then got to work, loosening the sand with small trowels, brushing it away, and piling it to one side. The sand was dry and the work went quickly. The two skulls were exposed first, with their strands of braided hair. The rest of the skeletons swiftly came to light, along with the micaceous pot. It was a beauty, and Nora was sorry that, as a grave offering, it would have to go with the remains back to Isleta for reburial.

“Too bad your boyfriend Tappan is mired in red tape back on the East Coast,” Skip said, exhaling and wiping his brow. “We could have used a few grunts from his company for some extra muscle.”

“It’s patience and delicacy we need,” said Nora. “Not muscle.”

The two skeletons were lying on their sides, in the traditional flexed position of prehistoric Pueblo burials. Both had once been wrapped in blankets, but only fragments of them remained, which they picked up with tweezers and placed in the two body bags. The yucca fiber sandals had survived better, along with some scraps of leather clothing.

An hour later, both skeletons lay completely exposed. Tenorio photographed them with his cell phone, sprinkled pollen on the bones, said another prayer. “They’re ready to be transferred,” he told the others.

Nora and Stan used tongs to pluck out each bone and place it in its bag. They worked fast and carefully, recovering every trace of human remains, until both shallow graves were empty. The micaceous pot and its rim fragments went into a plastic container.

“Now,” said Nora, “we need to screen this sand for anything we might have missed.”

She instructed everyone to put on N99 dust masks. Skip expertly set up the screen and they began troweling sand into it, shaking it slightly, picking out the last small bone fragments and placing them with the others. In another ten minutes, their work on the first skeleton was complete.

“Okay,” said Tenorio, sprinkling more pollen on the remains. “You can close it up.”

Nora zipped the body bag shut.

“Why don’t you and Skip take the first set of remains down to the van,” said Tenorio, “while Stan and I finish packing up this second body. We want to be out of here before the sheriff arrives.”

“Good idea.” Nora and Skip picked up the remains, carried them to the mouth of the cave, and carefully brought them down. Then they picked up the bag by its handles, fore and aft, and began carrying it up the trail to the van.

20

AS THEY APPROACHED the parking area, Nora saw another Torrance County sheriff’s vehicle come tearing in, slewing around, spraying mud and dirt. The door flew open and Sheriff Hawley jumped out.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he cried out, hustling down toward them and blocking the trail.

Baca, who had been waiting in the parking area, fell in behind him.

“Put that down!” the sheriff said.

“Sheriff,” said Nora, speaking as calmly as she could, “NAGPRA authorizes these remains to be repatriated to Isleta Pueblo—which everyone agrees they belong to.”

“Everyone? I sure as hell don’t!”

“You’re not an archaeologist,” said Nora dryly.

Hawley stared at her, his face raddled and flushed. “So the FBI authorized this.”

Nora hesitated. She had thought of calling Corrie but knew it would put the freshman agent in a difficult position. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

“The FBI authorized me to take charge of these remains,” she replied.

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