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A faint smile crossed his features.“Your grandmother and I disagree on many things, but not on the importance of respecting boundaries.Some are there for good reasons, whether those reasons are spiritual or practical.”

He opened the office door and held it for her.“Let me introduce you to Elaine.She’s brilliant, if a bit formal.I think you’ll find her insights valuable.”

As they walked down the corridor, Kari realized they’d fallen into step together, matching each other’s pace as they had on countless walks during her childhood.The familiarity was both comforting and painful—a reminder of connections that could never be fully severed, even when stretched thin by time and circumstance.

Whatever other revelations awaited with Dr.Redford, Kari had already discovered something she hadn’t expected: that the boundary between her professional and personal lives was as permeable as the mystical boundaries of the sites where the victims had been killed.

And crossing either one came with consequences she was only beginning to understand.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dr.Elaine Redford’s office door stood half-open, the sound of frustration spilling into the hallway.

“No, absolutely not,” came a firm voice.“I’ve explained this three times now.These ceremonial objects cannot be transported to your exhibition.They need to remain within the cultural context of the reservation.”

As Kari and her father approached, they could see Dr.Redford pacing behind her desk, phone pressed to her ear, free hand gesturing emphatically though her audience couldn’t see it.She was a small woman in her fifties with short silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses, dressed in a flowing turquoise tunic over black pants.

“The Tribal Council’s position is quite clear,” she continued, pinching the bridge of her nose.“Yes, I understand your deadline.No, that doesn’t supersede cultural protocols.”She noticed them hovering in the doorway and held up one finger.“I need to go.We’ll continue this conversation after you’ve reviewed the materials I sent explaining why this request is problematic.”

She ended the call with a decisive tap and exhaled heavily.“James,” she said, her expression shifting to a weary smile.“Please tell me you’re here with a university matter and not another museum curator wanting to display sacred objects out of context.”

“Something a bit more complex than that,” Kari’s father replied.“This is my daughter, Detective Kari Blackhorse with Navajo Nation Police.She needs your expertise on a sensitive matter.”

Dr.Redford’s attention shifted to Kari, her eyes sharpening with interest.“Detective?Oh—you’re investigating Professor Harrington’s death.”

“I am,” Kari said.

Redford nodded.“Please come in, though I apologize for the state of things.I’m preparing for a conference next week.”

“The state of things” was a diplomatic understatement.Redford’s office looked like the academic equivalent of a whirlwind.Books teetered in precarious stacks on every surface.Three different laptops sat open at various stations around the room.One wall was covered in maps marked with colored pins and handwritten notes, while another displayed framed black-and-white photographs of ceremonial activities, carefully selected to show only what was appropriate for outsiders to see.

Redford cleared two chairs by relocating piles of papers to an already overburdened side table.“How can I help the Navajo Nation Police?”

Kari’s father checked his watch.“I have a department meeting in five minutes.Elaine, Kari needs your insights on some specific ceremonial arrangements.It’s confidential, of course.”

“Of course.”Redford nodded, seeming unsurprised by the request.

“I’ll check back after my meeting,” he told Kari, the awkward formality between them returning now that they had an audience.

After he left, Redford settled into her chair, folding her hands on the desk.“I’ve known your father for several years.He speaks of you often, though I thought he said you were with Phoenix PD.”

“I transferred back to the reservation recently,” Kari said, not wanting to delve into personal history.“Dr.Redford, I need your expertise on ceremonial practices, specifically protective rituals.”

Redford’s expression grew more serious.“This is about the positioning of the body.”

“Bodies,” Kari corrected.“There’s been a second murder.”

Redford’s eyes widened.“When?”

“Early this morning.Similar ceremonial elements to the Harrington case.”

Redford removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.“I was afraid of this.The moment I heard about the first murder, I worried it might not be isolated.”

“I need to show you some photographs,” Kari said carefully.“They’re crime scene images.Disturbing.”

Redford hesitated, then nodded.“I understand.I’m not particularly good with… that sort of thing, but if it helps your investigation, I’ll manage.”

Kari removed a folder from her bag, selecting the least graphic images that still showed the ceremonial arrangements.She laid them on the desk, watching as Redford steeled herself before examining them.

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