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“Natoni Begay,” her father repeated thoughtfully.“I know of him.His grandfather is a respected healer.The family maintains many of the older traditions.”

“Do you know someone who specializes in these protective ceremonies?”Kari asked.“Someone who might recognize the specific mistakes in the arrangements?”

“Dr.Elaine Redford,” her father said without hesitation.“She’s in this department, specializes in Navajo ceremonial practices.Has special permission from the Tribal Council to document certain rituals for preservation purposes.”He checked his watch.“She should be in her office now—two doors down.”

“I’ll need to speak with her.”

“I’ll introduce you,” her father offered, standing.

“That’s not necessary,” Kari said, perhaps too quickly.

Something tightened in her father’s expression—hurt, quickly masked.“It would help establish credibility.Elaine is cautious about discussing sensitive cultural knowledge.”

Kari relented with a nod, recognizing the professional logic.As they prepared to leave, her eyes fell on a framed photograph on his desk that hadn’t been there during her last visit—her father with a woman perhaps fifteen years his junior, both smiling against the backdrop of Oak Creek Canyon.

Linda, his wife of three years.

“She’d like to meet with you,” her father said, his voice holding a quality she rarely heard from him—uncertainty.“I know you two have met before, but you’re practically strangers.She’d like to change that, and I think it’s a good idea.”He paused as if suddenly coming up with an idea, though Kari suspected it was an act.“How about dinner?When your case is resolved, I mean.”

“Maybe,” she said noncommittally.Then, sensing he was about to say more, she plunged ahead.“Speaking of the case, Daniels is treating it as serial killings by a traditional Navajo targeting outsiders who disrespect sacred sites.”

There was a flicker of disappointment in her father’s face.It passed quickly—he wasn’t the type of person to wear his emotions on his sleeve.“That’s a reasonable profile based on initial evidence.”

“It’s wrong,” Kari said flatly.“The ceremonial elements are incorrect in ways no traditional practitioner would mistake.It’s someone with academic knowledge trying to mimic ceremonies they’ve studied but never participated in.”

Her father assessed her with the evaluative gaze she remembered from childhood.“Paul has extensive experience with ritualistic crime scenes.His assessment carries significant weight.”

“So my assessment carries none?”The question emerged sharper than intended.

“That’s not what I said.”Her father’s tone remained measured.“But you need to consider the possibility that your connection to Navajo culture is influencing your interpretation.”

“And Daniels’s complete lack of understanding of that culture isn’t influencing his?”Kari countered.

“Paul approaches evidence objectively.”

“He approaches evidence with twenty-five years of FBI methodology that dismisses indigenous knowledge as superstition,” Kari said, struggling to maintain her professional composure.“Just like you taught him to.”

Her father’s expression hardened.“That’s unfair, Kari.Both to Paul and to me.”

“Is it?He practically quoted you in today’s briefing—talking about not letting ‘cultural superstitions’ cloud judgment.”

“Evidence-based investigation requires setting aside personal beliefs,” her father said, using the same tone he’d employed when explaining complex concepts to her as a child.“It’s not about dismissing culture, but about maintaining objectivity.”

“There’s nothing objective about ignoring culturally significant evidence because it doesn’t fit standard FBI profiling,” Kari said.“The ceremonial mistakes are evidence, Dad.They tell us something crucial about our killer.”

Her father studied her for a long moment.“You’ve changed since Phoenix,” he said finally.“Your mother would be pleased.”

The observation caught Kari off guard.Before she could respond, her father continued.

“For what it’s worth, I think both approaches have merit.The killer could be an outsider, as you suggest.Or they could be someone with a traditional background who deliberately alters ceremonies for personal reasons—which would align with Paul’s profile.”

It was as close to support as she was likely to get.Kari nodded, accepting the partial validation.

“I need to see Dr.Redford,” she said, rising.“And I need copies of all correspondence between you and Harrington.”

“Of course,” her father agreed, his expression troubled.“Kari, whatever you’re pursuing… be careful.These places have histories that go beyond archaeological interest.”

“You sound like Ruth,” Kari observed, surprised.

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