Page 7 of Badlands

“Uh. Yes, please.”

“Really?Rocks?”

The supercilious tone set Corrie’s nerves on edge. “Maybe it’s irrelevant, but I’d rather have more than less. I’m not sure they’re all natural to the area.” She drew in a breath. “And I’d like a photographic inventory of the plants growing in the immediate vicinity—the cholla, prickly pear, and these other plants, whatever they are. Plus some environmental pictures, including that rock formation. I’m sure you understand—capturing, in essence, a record of the physical environment.”

Gradinski stared at her in disbelief. “Agent Swanson, I’ve been leading ERTs for two decades. I pride myself on a second sense when it comes to evidence—knowing what’s relevant and what isn’t. May I respectfully ask you to let us exercise our expert judgment? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got very little time.”

She looked into that supercilious face and knew exactly what he was thinking:I’m not going to let some young, green, female agent tell me what to do.

Okay, she thought. Now she understood that little half smile on Sharp’s face. There was a reason he’d been evasive about Gradinski—and knowing Sharp, this evidence collection was a test. Well, she was not going to do her usual thing… which would have been to lose her temper.

“I’m aware of your excellent reputation,” she lied, trying to make her voice as agreeable as possible. “You probably don’t know this, but the young agents talk about your work as being practically legendary. Of course, ordinarily no one would say it to your face, but the fact is, all of us hope you’ll be the oneleading ERT on their cases.” She tried mightily to keep the tone of irony out of her voice. “I hadn’t planned on telling you, but I feel fortunate you drew this case.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? I’m glad to know it.” She saw that her abject flattery was actually working, as a flush of self-admiration appeared on his cheeks.

“I know what I’m asking for is a bit unconventional,” she went on. “All I can say in my defense is, I hope you’ll allow a new agent like me to make some of my own decisions about the evidence—even if they’re wrong. I just want to make sure nothing is missed.”

“Well, of course. We all learn by our mistakes. I’m happy to comply.”

She couldn’t believe how thoroughly he’d changed his tune.

“We’ll be sure to collect those, ah, rocks. And the other things. And anything else you might suggest. Fair enough?”

“Yes, that’s much appreciated. And,” she added, “please be sure to collect that spearpoint there, next to the pelvis.”

Gradinski swung around in surprise, bending down and peering with narrowing eyes. “Will you look at that. What a beauty! Of course we’ll collect it. Good eyes, Agent Swanson!” And, with a beaming smile, he gave her a gentle pat-pat on the shoulder.

Corrie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she managed to keep her face mild and friendly. She also waited in silence to make sure that Gradinski did indeed collect the evidence she’d indicated. She was pleased to see that he did so, and with the utmost professionalism: photographed, mapped, collected, sealed, tagged, and packed away.

5

WHEN THEY GOTback to the car, the sun had set and the evening dusk had settled over the badlands, turning the land a dusty pink. The witch’s stubby finger was dramatically outlined against a burgundy sky, with a few other equally cruel-looking sentinels forming a backdrop into the far distance.

As the ER team loaded the evidence into the van, Corrie went over to where Sharp was sitting under the tent, drinking ice water. A young Navajo man was there with him, sharply dressed in a police uniform and aviator sunglasses. He had high cheekbones, a crew cut, and an aquiline nose. His short-sleeved blue shirt was tight around his chest, and it looked to Corrie like he spent a lot of time in the gym.

“This is detective sergeant Jack Benally of the Navajo Nation Police, Crownpoint Jurisdiction,” Sharp told her. “You’ll be liaising with him on the case. I’ve been telling him all about you—and our last case up in the Manzanos.”

Corrie shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Benally said as he stood up. “That was quite a case you had last winter. I hope this one won’t be quite so… melodramatic.”

“Me too,” Corrie said.

“Ice water?” Sharp asked, proffering her a paper cup.

“Heck, yes.”

She drank deeply and set down the glass, to find Benally looking at her pensively. “Have you worked on the rez before?”

“No. I’m a new agent. I was assigned to the Albuquerque FO only a year and a half ago—never been to New Mexico before that.”

He nodded. “Welcome to the Navajo Nation.”

“Thank you. I look forward to working with you.” And she did—Benally would have the kind of knowledge of this area she’d never acquire in a lifetime. She recalled what Sharp had said about the Navajo police—how they were useful at opening doors—and an idea occurred to her. “About four miles back we passed a trailer and a hut.”

“You mean a hogan.”

“Right. Hogan. There was an elderly lady there.”

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