Page 65 of Close

“High praise coming from you,” she said, keeping her tone light despite the emotion she felt.

Tsosie shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.“Don’t let it go to your head.We’ve still got that drug smuggling case to crack.And three unsolved burglaries from last month.”

“One thing at a time,” Kari said, returning his smile.“I’m not going anywhere.”

And she meant it.The realization settled over her with quiet certainty.Her mother’s house no longer felt temporary.The reservation no longer felt like a step backward in her career.She had found her place—not in Phoenix with its urban anonymity, not in her father’s world of federal procedures and profiles, but here, where her divided heritage made her uniquely qualified to bridge worlds that desperately needed connection.

Later, driving home through the gentle rain, Kari pulled over at a scenic overlook and gazed out at the landscape she had once been so eager to escape.Mesas and canyons stretched to the horizon, their ancient contours softened by mist.The medicine pouch sat on the passenger seat beside her, a tangible reminder of her mother’s and grandmother’s wisdom, and of the mysteries that remained.

Like what had really happened to her mother.Why Anna had been researching the same old stories Redford had fixated on.Why she had gone to Canyon de Chelly the night she died.

But those were questions for another day.

For now, Kari simply sat in the gathering dusk, listening to the rain on the roof of her Jeep, feeling the weight of her badge against her hip, knowing that she had finally found the place where both halves of herself could coexist.Where she could be Detective Blackhorse and Asdza´a´ K’os simultaneously.

Where she belonged.

As she pulled back onto the road, heading toward the small house that was now truly becoming her home, Kari felt an unexpected sense of peace.There would be other cases, other mysteries, other boundaries to navigate.

But for now, the rain fell, washing the desert clean, preparing it for whatever would come next.And Kari Blackhorse, detective and daughter of two worlds, drove toward home, ready to face it.

EPILOGUE

Two weeks later, the desert sunset painted the landscape in hues of amber and crimson, the fading light catching on distant mesas like fire on stone.Kari sat beside Ruth on the porch of what she now thought of as her home, no longer “her mother’s house” but her own.The wooden steps still creaked in the same places, the wind still carried the scent of sage and juniper, but something had changed.

Something within Kari herself.

Ruth worked on a small weaving, her weathered hands moving confidently despite the fading light.Kari nursed a mug of cedar tea, content with the comfortable silence between them.

Her phone buzzed—another text from her father.He’d given her space for the past couple of weeks, for which she was grateful, but now he was reaching out again about dinner with him and Linda.Maybe she should take him up on it.Maybe spending a little time with her father and Linda wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Heard your FBI man gave you credit on the television,” Ruth said finally, not looking up from her work.

Kari smiled, silencing her phone.“Daniels isn’t ‘my’ FBI man.But yes, he acknowledged our department’s contribution to the case.”

What Daniels had actually said, in a press conference that had made national news, was that “Detective Blackhorse’s unique cultural insights proved critical to identifying and apprehending the suspect.”Coming from the Bureau, it was high praise indeed, if somewhat removed from the reality of what had happened at the ravine’s edge.

“And the professor woman?The one who thought she was becoming yee naaldlooshii?”

“Dr.Redford is undergoing psychiatric evaluation at a secure facility,” Kari said.“The doctors say her delusions may be treatable with the right medication and therapy.”

Ruth made a small sound, neither agreement nor disagreement.“And what do you say?”

The question hung between them, laden with meaning.Kari turned the medicine pouch over in her hands, feeling its weight, remembering how it had affected Redford when nothing else could.

“I think…” Kari chose her words carefully.“I think some experiences exist in the spaces between what we can explain and what we can only understand.”

Ruth nodded, satisfied.“Your mother would agree with that.”

The mention of Anna created a familiar ache in Kari’s chest, but it was softer now, less raw.“Do you really think it was real?”she asked quietly.“The vision you had of her?”

Ruth’s fingers stilled on her weaving.“What do you think?”

“I think…” Kari paused, looking out at the darkening landscape.“I think I don’t know everything.And that’s okay.”

A smile crossed Ruth’s face, brief but genuine.“That’s wisdom, Asdza´a´ K’os.The beginning of it, anyway.”

Kari held up the medicine pouch.“Can I keep this?It saved my life that night.”

---