Come to Apache Country, the bold-faced ad copy said. Live along the fabled San Pedro as Native American Peoples did for thousands of years before the corning of the White Man. Give your mind body the purifying cleansing that only a sweat lodge ceremony can provide. Find or renew your life's purpose by enduring your own personal Vision Quest. Return to your workaday world with the blessing and direction that can come only from the Great Spirit.
She handed the brochure to Ernie and he read it, too. "Who dreamed this up?" he asked, handing it back to her. "Sounds like the Apaches meet the New Agers. A two-week stay probably comes complete with frequent-flyer miles and a free pass to the Happy Hunting Ground. And the restorative value of the purification ceremony will be directly proportioned to how much lighter the poor guy's wallet is."
Suppressing a chuckle, Joanna turned over the brochure. On the back was a paragraph that read:
THE LEGEND OF RATTLESNAKE CROSSING
Once, no rattlesnakes lived in the Land of the Apaches. They roamed the cliffs and hills on the far side of the river, but the water was so deep and swift that none could cross it. One day a great storm settled over the valley. From one full moon to the next, it rained and rained. It rained so long and so hard that some of the mountains tumbled down across the path of the river, leaving behind a wall of solid earth. Wise Old Rattlesnake took some of the younger ones and led them across the river. They have lived here ever since.
"May I help you?"
Joanna had expected Crow Woman to make an appearance. Instead, the person behind the counter was a tanned and handsome, blond haired, blue-eyed man who looked to he in his early forties. His words were touched by the slightest tract. of a New York accent.
"I'm Sheriff Joanna Brady," she said, bringing out her ID. "Anil this is Detective Ernie Carpenter. We're looking for either Daniel Berridge or someone named Crow Woman."
A quick flash of something that looked like hope passed across the man's chiseled features. "I'm Danny," he said. "Have you found her, then?"
"We're not sure, Mr. Berridge," Ernie put in. "We need to ask you a few questions."
"You have found her!" Daniel Berridge exclaimed as all hope disappeared from his face and was replaced by unmasked despair. "She's dead, isn't she? I knew it. What happened? Did she fall? Did a cougar get her? A snake? What?"
In this case, Joanna thought, being dead is the least of it. "We're not sure the person we found is your wife," she said kindly. "Detective Carpenter and I have been going over a copy of the missing-person report Deputy Sandoval took yesterday. It says Katrina was wearing a watch when she left home. Unfortunately, the report neglected to say what kind."
"An Omega," Daniel Berridge answered at once. "I bought it for her for Christmas years ago."
Ernie reached into his pocket and pulled out the see-through bag containing the remains of the shattered watch. "This one?" he asked.
Daniel Berridge looked at it and nodded numbly. "That's it," he said. "Where is she? Please, tell me what happened."
"Search and Rescue found her on the far side of the river," Joanna said. "She was shot-shot and mutilated."
"Oh, God," Daniel groaned as his face reddened and contorted with grief. He swallowed hard. "Was she… was she raped, too?"
"No," Joann, said. "To the best of our knowledge, she was spared that. From the looks of it, all her clothing was still intact."
"But I thought you said she'd been mutilated. What does that mean?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Berridge. There's no easy or kind way to tell you this. Whoever murdered your wife also scalped her."
"Scalped," he whispered hoarsely. "You're kidding! This is the twentieth century, for God's sake. This has to be some kind of sick joke. You're making it up."
"No," Joanna said. "I wish I were."
Stumbling backward Daniel Berridge collapsed on a low, rolling stool. He buried his face in his hands, and sobbed. Several minutes passed before he was once again capable of speech.
"What kind of a monster would do such a thing?" he croaked. "It's awful. It's insane."
"Yes," Joanna said. "I couldn't agree more. It is insane and whoever did it is indeed a monster."
For a time the room was silent except for the ticking of an immense grandfather clock. Finally Berridge seemed to pull himself together. "Who did it?" he asked. "What kind of a person could do such a thing? And why?"
"We don't know," Joanna said. "We were hoping you might be able to help us answer some of those questions. Did your wife quarrel with anyone recently? Did she have any disagreements with some of the guests here, or maybe with one of the other employees?"
Daniel Berridge's teary eyes met Joanna's. "Only me," he said bleakly. "The only person Tina ever quarreled with was me."
"When?"
"Just before she went out Monday afternoon. She told me then that she was going to leave me for good. She insisted she wanted a divorce, and it I wouldn't give her one, she'd gel one anyway. When she disappeared right after that, I thought that was what had happened. Even though she didn't take anything with her-no clothes, no luggage I still thought that the next time I heard from her would be through a lawyer. I never thought she'd turn up dead. I still can't believe it. I can't."
"What was the quarrel about, Mr. Berridge?"
"Money," he said. "Money and racing."
Just then a door on the far side of the lobby opened, and Crow Woman swept in. She was dressed much as she had been the day before, except this time her hair was pulled back into a hair net and she wore a long white cook's apron over her almost floor-length squaw dress.
"Danny?" she called. "Are you in here? Somebody said there were cars out front-" Crow Woman stopped short when she saw Joanna and Ernie. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"They found Trina," Daniel Berridge said.
"Good. I'm ready to have her come home to the kitchen, where she belongs. That substitute cook we hired from Sierra Vista doesn't know up from down."
"Trina isn't coming home," Daniel Berridge said softly. "She's dead, Carol. Somebody shot her."
Now it was Crow Woman's turn to stumble in search of a place to sit. "Shot?" she echoed. "No. Are you sure?"
"It's Trina, all right. They found her watch."
Crow Woman stood up and went over to the man who was supposedly her brother, although the two of them were as different as day and night. "Oh, Danny," she murmured. "I'm so sorry. Who did it? Do they know yet?"
"No…" Joanna began.
"And she wasn't just shot, Carol. Sheriff Brady here says she was scalped." Daniel Berridge’s voice broke over the word. "Whoever killed her scalped her."
"My God. I can't imagine…"
"I can," he said fiercely. "It's probably one of the guests. I've been telling you all along, Carol. Some of these people are nutcases. Just because they've got enough money to come here and stay for two weeks doesn't mean they aren't crazy."
"Oh, no," Crow Woman gasped. "A few of them may be a little strange, but I'm sure they're not killers. That's utterly out of the question."
"What do you mean, strange?" Joanna asked.
"Strange?" Daniel Berridge repeated. "I'll tell you about strange. Most of the people who come here have been playing at being Indians for years. It's a big deal over in Europe, in Germany especially. Sort of like Boy Scouts, but for grown-ups. For adults. People have little bands that go on camp-outs together. They give themselves Indian names and dress in Indian costumes. Some of them learn to make baskets or do beadwork.