Hawk Moon by Rob MacGregor Page B

of the knife in a field where it would most likely be found, thus incriminating himself."
    "Of course," Connors crowed, then lowered his voice. "It doesn't make any sense at all."
    The waitress appeared with their drinks and they ordered their meals: steaks for Connors and Lansa , a cheeseburger and fries for Will.
    Lansa sipped his soft drink and continued.
    "It looks like the knife was planted. I think any decent detective would suspect the same thing."
    Connors nodded. "Any ideas on where the body might be?"
    "I had a dream Monday night that Myra's body was in a cave," Will said.
    Both men looked at him. "What else did you see?" his father asked.
    He wanted to say that the dream had begun with the sensation of waking up and finding Masau in his room. But the kachinas were sacred to his father and speaking of one of them in such an offhand way might offend him. It wasn't the right time, not here with his grandfather present. But there was something else he could say.
    "I saw John Wayne standing by the entrance of the cave."
    "John Wayne!" Connors chortled. "He didn't kill her."
    "But his initials are J. W.—Jerry Wharton. That's why I went to see him the next day."
    "I don't know why you'd dream about John Wayne, but I don't think the idea about the initials is right," Lansa said.
    "Why not?" Will asked.
    "This afternoon I had a talk with Detective Olsen. She talked to Wharton after you left the ski resort. He's got a sound alibi. He went to a movie Thursday evening and three people were with him."
    There was still something about Wharton that Will couldn't remember, but maybe it didn't matter now. If Jerry had been at a movie, he couldn't have killed Myra.
    "Did Olsen say anything else helpful?" Connors asked.
    "She's trying to link Myra's apparent murder to drugs, but she's having trouble figuring out how Myra fits in, unless she knew something about someone she wasn't supposed to know." Lansa leaned over the table toward Will. "Any ideas who that might be?"
    Will shook his head. "If I knew who was sending the E-mail to me, it might help." His mother had already told Lansa and Connors about the cryptic messages. Burke had done his best to dispel any doubts about his innocence.
    "The problem is that she's getting pressure from above to make an arrest."
    "Our mayor is probably behind it," Connors said. "He hates negative publicity."
    To Will, it looked like Olsen was looking for a way to arrest him and charge him with murder.
    Their dinners came, and as they ate they avoided talking about Myra's disappearance or Will's predicament. When they were about to leave, Detective Olsen stepped through the doorway, accompanied by two men. They took a table near the rear. The place was crowded now and Olsen hadn't looked their way. As they left, Will stole another glance at the men at Olsen's table. They looked familiar to Will, but at first he couldn't place them.
    "Well, I'm going down to the Ute City Banque for a nightcap," Connors said as they paused outside. "I'm sure you two have plenty to talk about."
    As soon as his grandfather mentioned the nightcap, Will recalled that he'd seen the two men outside the bar talking to Tom Burke. If they'd just been asking directions to the airport, as Burke claimed, they hadn't gotten around to leaving yet. And what were they doing with Olsen?
    As they walked away, Will told his father about the two men and their apparent connection to Burke and Olsen. "It's a small town, Will. People bump into each other."
    Will wasn't satisfied with that explanation, but he didn't say any more about it. As they continued on through downtown, Lansa occasionally peered into shops, but showed no interest in stopping at any of them. When Will pointed out his mother's clothing shop on Cooper Avenue, Lansa paused and looked at the window displays.
    "Nice," he remarked as they walked on in the direction of City Market.
    Half a block later, they reached a small plaza, and Lansa asked Will if he wanted an ice