What kind of sensitive details?” Mac pulled the thick file toward him.
Agent Miller paused, as if searching for the right words. “We’ve listed two Native American individuals as persons of interest. Both are still under investigation.”
“What about all these other names on the grease boards?” Mac motioned around the room.
“Individuals who meet the profiler’s description. They’re mainly registered sex offenders and other losers who were in the Portland area when Sara disappeared. None of them panned out, or we would have told you about them.”
Mac nodded.
“This has been our strategic planning room since day one,”
Miller continued. “Many of the men listed are in prison or dead, so you can see they didn’t require much follow-up.”
“Who are the Native American suspects?” Nate asked.
Miller frowned at Nate and then shifted his gaze to Mac. “I’m sure you understand, Mac, but I don’t want this lead going outside OSP.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Officer Webb is working the investigation with us. He needs to be in the loop every step of the way.”
“Can we count on you to maintain confidentiality?” Miller asked Nate.
“Of course.”
“All right then.” Agent Miller flipped open the file to reveal some surveillance photographs of an older man, probably in his late fifties. “This is Therman Post, resident of the Warm Springs Reservation. He’s a political activist and has been a very vocal advocate for the placement of the Native American casino in the Columbia River Gorge.”
“You think Therman Post killed Sara Watson?” Nate sounded surprised. “What would be his motive? Sure, he wants the casino, but he’s not a killer.”
“You know this guy?” Agent Miller asked.
“Of course I know him; he lives in my community. He’s done a great deal for our people. Therman is the main proponent for the new tribal interpretive center in Warm Springs. He can be a pain sometimes, but kidnapping and murder? I don’t know about that.” Nate glanced over at Mac. “He’s a good man.”
“I appreciate your input, Nate.” Mac knew better than to draw conclusions early on, but he felt obligated to accept Nate’s opinion—at least for now. “Is Therman a suspect or a person of interest? I heard both terms thrown out here.”
“Person of interest right now,” Miller answered. “He’s been rather persistent in a letter-writing campaign to Senator Wilde, threatening repercussions if the senator didn’t approve the planning and placement of the casino. As you know, Senator Wilde is Sara Watson’s uncle.”
“Not an easy thing to forget.” Mac took a closer look at the photo.
“The letters from Therman were well documented and reviewed by the senator’s security delegation and chief of staff,” Miller went on.
“We should have been apprised of this,” Mac said. “We read about the connection between Sara’s disappearance and the casino in the papers, but we figured it was media hype. Apparently, they knew more than we did.”
“We suspect someone from the senator’s office may have leaked the information to the press. The articles were pure speculation, and I can assure you, they didn’t get anything from us. As to not informing you, the senator gets thousands of letters every year, and a lot of them contain threats.”
“And these threats aren’t taken seriously?” Dana asked. “Didn’t the senator make the connection between Sara’s disappearance and these threats?”
“Yes, he did. That’s why the FBI and the OSP were brought in so quickly. The senator rarely reads the mail that comes into his office. Most mail is read and replied to by his administrative staff. I guess they thought he should see the ones that came from Mr. Post. He didn’t take them seriously until Sara went missing.”
“So you’ve had these from the onset.” Mac still couldn’t believe the FBI agents had kept this information from them.
“We were directed by our supervisors not to disclose the information. There were political directives that I wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss, even if I knew exactly what they were.” Miller seemed apologetic. “We followed up on them ourselves. The guy wasn’t too cooperative, but there didn’t seem to be any connection between him and Sara. Mr. Post has been writing letters like this for years. Why would he suddenly decide to kidnap and murder the senator’s niece?”
“But you’re still not ready to take him off the list as a possible suspect,” Dana observed.
“Right. The letters from Mr. Post are in the file. You can see for yourself. They’re mainly political rhetoric, like most of the casino-related letters; the Indians are spouting off about oppression and the loss of rights for the Confederated Tribes.” Miller smirked. “Like they really need more money. The government is already doing more than they should.”
Nate shifted in his chair, obviously having a differing opinion on the subject. He didn’t seem too pleased with Agent Miller’s comments. Even Agent Lauden looked a little uneasy.
“At any rate,” Miller continued, “the letters are all postmarked at Warm Springs. You might want to take a look at them before we go on.”
Mac, Dana, and Nate looked at each of the letters, skimming the contents for something of relevance.
“This is Therman’s handwriting, all right,” Nate said. “I’ve seen it before. He has an unusual way of signing his name.”Nate pointed to the signature, which was a flourished TP with a stylistic Indian-style tent or tepee beside it.
“You said you had a second Native American suspect,” Mac said.
“Person of interest,” Agent Lauden corrected. “There was a second set of letters.” He motioned to the file, flipping to another section.
“Another advocate for the casino?” Mac looked at Miller for an explanation.
“Maybe,” Agent Miller admitted.
“What’s the deal on these letters?” Dana asked, pulling another packet from the file.
“The letters from Therman Post stopped around the time Sara was reported missing. Then these started coming. They appear to be written by another person, but we’re not entirely certain that’s the case. They’re computer generated, but they are also postmarked from the Warm Springs Reservation.” Agent Miller nodded toward the case file. “These letters indicate that the author had kidnapped Sara and would harm her if the senator didn’t allow the casino to be built in the gorge.”
“How many letters like this did the senator receive?” Mac glanced over the letters in question.
“Three, total,” Miller said. “The letters were all received within the first ten days of Sara’s disappearance. Coincidentally, they stopped after we interviewed Mr. Post at his home in Warm Springs. He told us he didn’t own a computer.”
Nate nodded. “Therman speaks the truth. Which brings us to the second suspect, who is . . . ?”
“A guy named Milton Driver. He’s a postal employee on the reservation. You know him?” Agent Lauden asked Nate.
“Yes, I do. How is he connected?”
“We lifted his print from one of the envelopes in the second series of letters that were postmarked at Warm Springs. Turns out Driver has an alibi, so he more than likely just handled the letters.”
“How did the interview go with Therman Post?” Mac asked.
“You said he wasn’t very cooperative.”
“Not very well. He wouldn’t even let us in the door, and we ended up speaking to him through the screen door. He admitted to sending letters to the senator, but none after Sara disappeared. We asked if he would take a polygraph, but he refused and then slammed the door in our faces.”
“Hmm.” Nate rubbed his chin. “Like I said, Therman can be a little difficult. I don’t see him driving to Portland and kidnapping a woman, though, let alone killing her for political gain. He values life too much for that.”
“He may not be a kidnapper or a killer, and he may not have written the second set of letters, but we don’t have a lot of leads on this case. And this is the closest thing we have to motive.” Agent Miller frowned. “Sara’s husband, her cousin, her co-workers, and even her neighbors have all taken the polygraph, and there’s no indication any of them were involved. All we have is those letters—and you have to admit, there’s a strong motive. A casino in the gorge stands to bring in a lot of money.”
“Take a look at this.” Dana pointed to the bottom of one of the letters that were mailed after Sara’s disappearance. She held the letter so Mac and Nate could see.
“What am I looking at?” Mac peered at the paper.
“The pictograph on the bottom; look how it’s signed.”
“She Who Watches.” Mac looked over at Nate. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“Does this mean something to you guys?” Agent Miller asked.
“Not until now,” Mac answered. “During the autopsy, we removed a leather pouch from Sara’s mouth that had a stone with an odd carving on it. Nate identified the object as—what was the Native American name, Nate?”
“Tsagagalal,” Nate pronounced the name with an ethnic dialect. He explained the reference, the legend, and the relationship to the English translation of She Who Watches.
“It looks like we definitely have a marriage between the letters and the evidence on the body.” Miller leaned back in his chair. “If Sara’s killer is a member of the Warm Springs Reservation, then we may have to retain control of the case.” He pulled the file over to his side of the table.
“Only if we request your assistance in the investigation,” Nate challenged. “We don’t have any proof that the crime occurred on tribal grounds. Right now, I think we need a fresh set of eyes on the case. We’ll be requesting that OSP continue to work the case with our cooperation.”
Miller’s features hardened. “But OSP has no jurisdiction on the reservation.”
“That’s where I come in,” Nate said.
“That’s right,” Mac said, pulling the case file back to his side of the table. “We believe in the spirit of cooperation, as you know, so we can get the job done. We’ll let you guys know if we need anything.”
UPON LEAVING THE FEDERAL BUILDING an hour later, Mac, Dana, and Nate opted to eat lunch before heading back to the office. Downtown Portland offered a lot of great opportunities,Nordstrom’s Café being one of them. Once they’d ordered and secured a table, Mac took out his notes. “Nate, do you think as a tribal member you’ll be able to set up an interview with Therman Post?”
“There’s a good possibility. Though I don’t think he’s your guy.”
“Hopefully that’s the case, but we still have to eliminate him as a suspect.”
“It might be a good idea if I head back to Warm Springs after lunch,” Nate said. “Do you suppose you could spare some photos of that beaded pouch and the stone we recovered from the body dump?”
“Absolutely. We have the digitals, so when we get back to the office I’ll print them off for you.”
Nate frowned. “Miller and Lauden seem pretty convinced that Sara’s death is connected to the clash over the casino. I just hope they aren’t right. As much as I hate to admit it, tempers have gotten hot and heavy over the issue.”
“It’s possible someone snatched Sara to make a statement, and the plan went south.” Dana stirred her vegetable soup. “I’m just glad you’ll be talking to the people who might be involved.”
“I appreciate you giving me the opportunity.”
Mac sipped his coffee. “While you’re working the reservation, Dana and I will get going on the interviews here in Portland. If Post agrees to an interview, though, we’d like to be there. If he’ll only talk to you, then go for it.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You want to start with Sara’s husband?” Dana asked Mac.
“Yeah.” Mac stabbed a fork into his blackened salmon salad. For once, he’d chosen healthy—Dana’s influence. “I took a look at the notes Miller and Lauden had on him, and they were pretty sparse. I have a feeling they crossed him off the list too soon.”
“Well, he apparently had an alibi.”
“Right, but that doesn’t mean much. He could have hired a hit. That seems to be the rage these days.”
“I can’t imagine him killing his little girl’s mommy. Besides, he seems genuinely heartbroken.” Dana sighed. “I know, I know. We can’t rule out anyone.”
“Darn right.” Mac dug into his food. Talk dissipated as they ate in companionable silence.
AS PLANNED, Nate left for Warm Springs after lunch to look into the possible tribal connections to the case. He took with him digital photos of the stone and pouch that were recovered from Sara’s mouth back with him, so he could show them to tribal members and local historians to confirm his interpretation of the image. He would also attempt to secure an interview with Therman Post; hopefully Post would grant a meeting with Nate based on his status as a tribal member.
After Nate left them at the OSP office, Dana phoned Scott Watson at his home. He picked up the phone after Dana started to leave a message.
“I’m sorry, Detective Bennett. I’ve had to screen my calls. The media won’t leave us alone. They’re camped out on my front lawn, if you can believe it.”
“Oh, I believe it,” Dana said. “Detective McAllister and I would like to come by for an interview. I can only imagine how difficult all of this is for you, but we are taking over the case from the FBI and really need to speak with you personally.”
“Can’t you just read the files? I told the FBI guys everything I know.”
Dana apologized again. “Since this has become a murder investigation, we basically need to start over.”
“OK. Um—why don’t you come over now? Chloe’s asleep and probably will be for the next two hours.”
“Thanks, Scott. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Do I need a lawyer present?”
“You’re certainly welcome to one if you feel it’s necessary.” Dana glanced over at Mac.
“Am I a suspect?”
“No. However, we will need to rule you out as one.”
“I understand.”
“Good. We’ll see you shortly.” Dana pinched her lips together and ended the call.
“He didn’t want to talk to us?” Mac straightened and moved away from the desk he’d been leaning against.
“No, and I don’t blame him.” Dana pulled on her suit jacket.
“He’s being hounded by the press.”
“We will be too,” Mac predicted. And they were. Reporters pressed in on them en mass as they maneuvered the car through them toward the Watsons’ house.
As they pulled up into the circular drive, Mac noticed a woman holding a bag and ringing the doorbell. “Looks like he has company.” Scott opened the door and took the proffered bag. He was thanking the woman as Mac turned off the motor. “What do you suppose that’s all about?”
“Probably a casserole or something like it.”
“Hmm. I wish somebody would bring me casseroles,” Mac mumbled as they exited the car. His fridge was empty again and would probably stay that way until they resolved Sara’s death.
Scott Watson opened the door before they rang the bell. With a phone to his ear, he motioned them inside. “I’ll be with you in a second; make yourself at home.”
“You taking notes this time?” Mac asked Dana.
“Sure, I think I’m up.” They both stood in the living room until Scott came in with some bottled waters and extended one to each of them.
“No thanks,” they said in concert.
“We just ate,” Dana explained. “Thank you, though.”
“I’ve got a ton of food, getting more meals and drinks from friends and neighbors than we can eat. Guess I’ll have to put some of the stuff in the freezer.” Scott nodded toward the phone. “That was my secretary, Jackie. She’s a lifesaver right now—been keeping my business afloat while I try to pick up the pieces. Everyone’s been so helpful, from friends and family to complete strangers. Especially Claire. She and Allysa are still here, but I imagine they’ll be going home after the funeral.”
“She was here for a long time.”
“She loved Sara. We both did.” He frowned. “It’s not what you think, Detective. There’s nothing going on between Claire and me.”
Having seen them together, Mac wasn’t sure he believed him. He and Claire may have loved Sara, but what if they loved each other more?