thinking back. âHe said he was an anthropologistâ¦â
âDamn!â
Her lips parted. Sheâd never seen easygoing Drake look so angry. âWhatâs happened?â she asked.
âThey found a DB on the Rez,â he said quietly.
She blinked, trying to recall the terminology. âA dead body,â she translated, âon the reservation.â
He nodded curtly. âJust barely on it, about a hundred feet or so from the actual boundary. He appears to be of Cherokee descent, because we also found a tribal registration card, with the name and number missing, and we found part of a membership card from a professional anthropological society, which we assume was hisâthe part with his name was missing. So was his driverâs license.â
She gasped. âThat man who called meâ¦?â
âLooks like it could be. We canât go on Cherokee land unless weâre asked. And this makes it a federal matter. But I have a cousin on the reservation police force, and he told me. Itâs all real hush-hush. The FBI is sending a special agent out to investigate, someone from that new Indian Country Crime Unit theyâre forming. I just wanted to warn you that they will want to talk to you.â
âWhat?â
âYou were the last person who spoke to the victim,â he said. âThey found your telephone number scribbled on a pad next to his phone at his motel and looked it up in the phone book. Thatâs when Cousin Richard called meâhe knows I hang around the museum a lot.â He studied her worried expression. âSomebody killed the guy, in his motel outside Chenocetah, or on the deserted dirt road where he was lying. The road leads the back way onto some construction sites, near a mountain honeycombed with caves. A jogger found him lying on the side of the road early this morning with a bullet in the back of his head. Sheâs still being treated for shock at the local clinic,â he added.
Phoebe leaned against a pillar at the front of the museum, trying to catch her breath. Sheâd never imagined that she might end up involved in a murder investigation. It took a little getting-used-to.
âMaybe I should join her,â she said, and not completely facetiously.
âYouâre not in any danger. At leastâ¦I donât think you are,â he added slowly.
She lifted her face and met his eyes. âExcuse me?â
He frowned. âWe donât know who killed him, or why,â he said. âUnless that story of his was concocted. And even if it is, there are three new big construction projects underway in the area. If what he told you is true, thereâs no way of knowing where he was looking when he found that site.â
âWho did he work for?â she asked.
âThey donât know yet. The investigation is still in its preliminary stages. Thereâs one other thingâyou canât tell Marie.â
âWhy not?â
âShe canât keep her mouth shut,â he replied quietly. âThereâs an investigation going on, and Iâm telling you about it because Iâm worried for your safety. I donât want it told all over the county, though.â
She whistled softly. âOh, boy.â
âJust in case, have you got a gun?â
She shook her head. âI shot a friendâs pistol once, but I was afraid of the noise and I never tried it again.â
He bit his lower lip and drew in a long breath. âYoulive out in the country. If I can get a target, will you let me come out and teach you how to shoot?â
She felt the world shake under her feet. Drake was happy-go-lucky on ordinary days. But he wasnât kidding about this. He was genuinely worried about her. She swallowed hard.
âYes,â she said after a minute. âIâd be glad to have you teach me, if you think itâs necessary.â She gave him a searching look. âDrake, you know something