Page 38 of Twice Missing
"McKenzie," Noah said softly, "maybe this is bigger than we anticipated."
McKenzie nodded grimly. "Aye."
Noah shook his head, his mind racing. The bracelet, Emily Carter, Kayla Bravebird — how were they all connected? And more importantly, were there other victims they didn't know about yet?
“I notice she is listed as being twenty-eight at the time she went missing. Ten years ago that would have made her eighteen when Emily Carter went missing,” McKenzie said.
As they stood there, absorbing the gravity of the situation, the clerk approached them. Her earlier suspicion had softened somewhat, replaced by a look of resigned sadness.
"Kayla was... is... a talented artist," she said, her voice low. "She specialized in beadwork, but she could turn herhand to almost anything. That bracelet you have — it's definitely one of hers. I'd recognize her style anywhere."
Noah turned to her, his expression serious. "Can you tell us more about her disappearance? Anything at all might help."
The clerk sighed, her eyes distant. "I don't know everything. They don't tell us much. The last time I saw her, it was just like any other day. She came in to drop off some new pieces for the shop, chatted with us for a while about an upcoming Pow Wow. Then she left, and... that was it. No one's seen her since."
McKenzie pulled out a notepad. "Did she mention any plans? Anyone she was meeting?"
The clerk shook her head. "You'd have to speak to her family. But..." she hesitated, then continued, "there had been some talk, you know? Theories swirling depending on who you speak to. There is the theory that she was involved in some love triangle, or it was human trafficking, or simply that she ran away from home.”
"What do you think?" Noah asked.
"Kayla was involved in the MMIW movement. She was an activist. She was passionate about a lot of things. Some of us wondered if maybe... maybe she found out something she shouldn't have."
"Would you know if she ever left the reservation and headed down to High Peaks?
"Our reservation is a tight-knit community but we don't live in each other's pockets. I wouldn't know."
"Would you recognize this woman?" McKenzie said,showing her an older photo of Emily Carter before she went missing.
"No."
Noah and McKenzie exchanged a look. This case was growing more complex by the minute, and the implications were disturbing.
"Thank you for your help," Noah said sincerely.
As they left the Cultural Center, both detectives were lost in thought. The missing artist, the MMIW crisis, Emily Carter's bracelet — it all swirled together in a troubling mix of questions and possibilities.
"We need to talk to the tribal police," McKenzie said as they reached their car. "And we need to dig deeper into the day she went missing, her whereabouts in the weeks leading up to that."
As they drove away from the Akwesasne Cultural Center, the faces from the missing posters seemed to follow, a silent plea for justice and answers.
15
The St. Regis Mohawk Tribal Police Department stood as a modern structure of glass and stone, distinct from the traditional architecture elsewhere on the reservation. Christmas decorations brought a festive spirit to the entrance, with a string of multicolored lights framing the doorway and a cheerful wreath hanging on the glass door.
"You know we're going to look like idiots," McKenzie said, his breath fogging up the car window.
Noah turned to his partner, eyebrow raised. "For asking questions?"
"For making assumptions about that bracelet. C'mon, Noah, for all we know Emily visited the reservation and purchased it from the gift store. End of story."
Noah nodded, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "You're right. It may be as simple as that, in which case we can scratch it off our list. But usually when you buy a gift as beautiful as that, you would tell someone. Afriend. A family member. Maybe she did, maybe not. Maybe they forgot. There was no Native decor, nothing that would have said she had an affinity for native jewelry. My bet is it was a gift. Hence the reason the phrase meant 'Thank you for helping me.' But I find it interesting that the girl who created it has gone missing in the last eight months. A coincidence? Possibly. But we are in the business of following leads, and they haven't had a lead in ten years. Now I was in her home. We'll go in, speak to one of the cops here and see if they throw us a bone."
"Or we could go home and follow the leads from that offshore account. I'm sure by now Rishi has something," McKenzie countered, his tone betraying his reluctance.
"Come on, McKenzie," Noah said, opening his door and stepping out into the crisp air. The lobby of the police department was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights and the muffled sound of a radio dispatch the only noises breaking the silence. A lone receptionist sat behind a bulletproof glass partition, her eyes lifting to meet theirs as they approached.
Noah flashed his badge. "State Police Investigator Noah Sutherland, and this is Detective McKenzie from the Adirondack County Sheriff's Office. We'd like to speak to a detective in charge of the Kayla Bravebird missing person case."
