Bone Walker: Book III of the Anasazi Mysteries by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear Page A

Reggie, who had been hired to do minor repairs as well as collect the park trash, spent most of his time picking up trash.
    The sound of a vehicle caused her to look to the north. From here she could see straight across the canyon to the Pueblo Bonito ruins almost due north. Slightly to the east stood the once proud walls of Chetro Ketl. To the west she could see Pueblo del Arroyo, the location of the only tri-wall structure in the canyon.
    The vehicle was Rupert’s shiny Dodge pickup, the newest and nicest of the Park Service units. Being boss had perks.
    Rupert’s truck thumped over the Chaco Wash bridge and made the turn into the Rinconada parking lot. He pulled up beside Magpie’s truck and killed the engine. She walked partway down the trail to meet him.
    Sunlight drenched his tall body. He had a handsome brown face and powerful eyes. Something about him had always affected her, as if the man broadcast on a frequency that she could detect but not really hear. She never knew what to do with that sense of power that surrounded him. Was it just something that spoke to her subconscious?
    “Hey, Magpie, I thought you’d be headed back to the front desk.” He smiled. He wore sunglasses and a black cowboy hat. His green Park Service winter coat sported the official patch on the shoulder. His long legs were encased in slim brown slacks.
    “I just thought I’d come back and check. You know, about Dale. Something’s not right about his truck being out here.” She shook her head. “He would have at least checked in.”
    Rupert stuffed his long fingers into his back pockets as he turned, looking back at the parking lot. Maggie watched him as he carefully searched the surrounding canyon bottom. “Well, you can never tell with Dale. Rules and regulations have never had much of an impact on his behavior.”
    Maggie checked her watch again. “Rupert, I have to get back.” She pointed at the bit of white paper up on the ridge. “You might want Reggie to drop by with his trash truck. That looks like something that blew out of someone’s car.”
    “I sent him into town on a ‘gofer’ run. If you wouldn’t mind trotting up and getting that, I’d appreciate it.” He made a face. “I need to look around here a little bit.”
    Maggie gave him a cautious look.
    Rupert read her expression and laughed. “Probably just a nut call. You know, we get them. Yesterday was Halloween. Some woman just called, asked for the superintendent, then told me that a white guy had fallen through a hole in the past. And that his head was sticking down into the Fourth World where he could see the ancestors.”
    A surge of adrenaline tingled Maggie’s veins. “What did she mean?”
    “I don’t know.” Rupert squinted up at the sun. “I’ll look around here and see you back at the barn.”
    “Right.” Maggie walked back up the trail and spilt off, climbing up to the bit of white paper that the wind
had wedged under a saltbush branch. She crumpled it in her hand and straightened, only to see another twenty paces beyond. Climbing to it, she picked it up. On a whim she plodded to the ridgetop and looked around. Chaco Canyon unfolded before her. Rupert was walking the last of the trail loop through the small houses on the way back to his vehicle. The ruins under the far northern wall gleamed. To the south the rim of Chacra Mesa shone in the midday sun. She could see the ancient Anasazi stairway that led to Tsin Kletsin on the mesa top. At first the oddity didn’t register as she lowered her eyes to the crumbled stone piled on the ridgetop. It was the color rather than the shape that caught her eye. Dark red, wine color rather than buff. Like two juniper stumps, except … then her stumbling mind put it together.
    Two bloody feet atop legs stuck out of the dirt.
    She screamed, “Rupert!”

CHAPTER 8
    Casa Rinconada Parking Lot, Chaco Canyon
     
     
    MAGPIE WATCHED AS the park law enforcement people climbed through the sagebrush to the