Page 8 of Dead Mountain

“Yeah, well, Tappan’s a pretty good talker himself.” Skip placed his hands on the arms of the chair and rose. “Got to get back to work, but I just wanted to check out the new digs. See you for supper.”

The door closed and silence descended once more. Nora rested another moment, then roused herself: she had to get back to work as well. She went to the filing cabinet that had just been moved in from her old office, opened the drawer labeled “Tsi-p’in-owinge,” and removed a rolled-up piece of paper. She flattened it on her desk and examined it. It was a rough map she’d made herself of a curious site on a mesa next to the ruins. It was a circle of stones, around what were four taller standing stones, since toppled, that she believed might have been designed to mark the solstices. She’d taken compass readings and measurements, and now she was trying to determine whether the tall stones, if raised again, might prove her theory true.

Her phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, but then she glanced over and saw it was Corrie Swanson, calling on her office phone.

“Corrie, how are you?”

“Good! All good! And you?”

She sounded just a little too chipper. “Just settling into my new office. Come by sometime and take a look.”

“I will. Sooner than you think, perhaps.” Her voice trailed off.

Nora sighed. “I notice you’re calling from your FBI number, so you might as well cut to the chase.”

Corrie laughed. “Okay. Two prehistoric burials in a cave in the Manzano Mountains. Vandalized. We need a quick survey to assess the damage and report to Isleta Pueblo, the NAGPRA custodians. You won’t need to excavate the burials, just do a quick survey. It’s a day’s work—promise.”

Nora smiled despite herself. A day’s work—Corrie’s favorite line. It was what she’d said last year, when she discovered a seventy-five-year-old mummified body in a ghost town. A day’s work that ended up taking weeks and almost got them killed.

“Vandalized how?”

“A couple of drunk frat boys were joyriding in the mountains yesterday evening, crashed their car, then took refuge in a cave where there were human remains and some petroglyphs. And naturally trashed the place.”

Nora thought a moment. “I’ve got a terrific field archaeologist, someone who just joined the department, PhD from UNM. His name is Stan Morrison. Lot of energy and smarts. He’d be perfect for this.”

This offer was greeted with a silence. After a moment, Corrie said, “What about you?”

Subtlety was not one of Corrie Swanson’s strong points. “Stan could really use the experience.”

“Well,” said Corrie, “here’s my situation. I’ve got a new mentor who’s replaced Agent Morwood.” There was a brief silence. “The thing is, I want to bring in a top person to make a good impression—and that person would be you.”

Nora understood immediately. A day’s work—she could spare the time to help out a friend. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Nora! By all means bring Stan, too. I’m emailing you a bunch of photos now.”

Her computer started dinging as the photos came in: Corrie must have had them all lined up and ready to go. Nora began scrolling through them as Corrie described the site and its location.

“Hold it,” Nora said. A photograph showing the broken rim of a pot was now on her screen, and she increased the magnification. “That broken pot—did you uncover more of it?”

“No. Those photos show the site as we left it. Why?”

“I think that’s a golden micaceous pot.”

“Is that important?”

“Golden micaceous pottery happens to be one of my specialties, and it’s never been found in this area—only in Utah. It’s made of clay with countless tiny pieces of mica in it that are unaffected by the firing process and give it a golden sheen. When do you want me to come out?”

“Um, tomorrow morning? We can’t sign off on the evidence gathering until you do your thing, so the sooner the better.”

“Tomorrow is no problem. How shall we meet?”

“Come by the Albuquerque Field Office at nine, and we’ll go from there.”

“Will do.”

Nora hung up the phone. Golden micaceous pottery, found so far south of its usual range? This could get interesting, she thought.

5

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