CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and FORTY-TWO
Monday early morning — 4:47 a.m.
Kayenta, Arizona, at the hotel on the Navajo Reservation
While Blane encouraged them to head back to bed, these friends and family refused to leave. They were there for the duration. Jeraine took over the hotel’s breakfast kitchen. Using basic ingredients, they were soon eating a variety of yummy things. Soon, they were quietly talking, laughing. Alex Hargreaves took over the coffee making. Soon, the hotel ground coffee transformed into something wonderful. They drank cup after cup of coffee and ate in this quiet communion.
Blane was getting ready to check on the Templars when a cell phone rang. He looked over to see Alex Hargreaves answer her phone. The room fell silent.
“Ganny?” Alex said.
She listened for a long moment. Her only expression of emotion was the blinking of her eyes.
“Wow,” Alex said. She looked at Blane. “I’ll tell him. Tell them we’re all hanging out in the lobby.”
Gando Peaches must have said something funny because she laughed.
“Of course,” Alex said. “Come on over. There’s plenty.”
She realized everyone was watching her when she hung up her phone. She flushed at the attention and then gestured to Blane.
“We’re all in this,” Sandy said. “You need to tell us what you know.”
Alex gave Sandy a long look. Her husband put his hand on her leg. She looked at him, and he gave her a soft, loving smile. She looked back at Sandy.
“Okay,” Alex said. “You’re right. It’s just … Uh …”
Her eyes flicked around the room, touching everyone in attendance.
“Well …” Alex said. “It’s …how do you say it now? Not safe for work?”
“Sensitive material,” John, her husband, said.
“What is it?” Blane asked.
“Okay, if you’re sensitive, you should leave now,” Alex said.
When no one moved, Alex squinted and tipped her head in disbelief.
“We killed the St. Jude murderer,” Tanesha said.
“We’ve seen some grisly shit,” Jacob said.
“Okay,” Alex said with a nod. “Ganny and his men were about a mile from here when they heard police sirens. They picked up their pace. They were near enough to see the Templars jogging down t he street toward an old abandoned garage.”
“The one at the end of the street?” Blane asked.
“I guess so,” Alex said with a shrug. “Ganny said that they figured they had to change out of their gear. So he and his guys chased them to the garage. No sooner than they’d surrounded the building and the Navajo Nation police, the BLM police, and the FBI showed up.”
“All three are responsible for crime on the reservation,” Blane said with a nod.
“He said they waited for … well, all this time,” Alex said. “Half hour or so. The FBI used their bullhorn to try to raise them but …”
“What happened?” Blane asked.
“They forced the door and went into the garage,” Alex said with a shake of her head. “Everyone inside was dead. Ganny said ‘cut down’ as if they were attacked with swords, possibly the swords they were carrying.”
She looked around the room from horrified face to horrified face.
“Here’s the thing — they didn’t see anyone go in and no one came out,” Alex said. She looked at Perses, and he shook his head. “They have no idea who or what could have done this thing or if they attacked each other.”
“It happened while the police and Ganny were standing outside,” Alex said.
A kind of shocked hush came over the crowd. No one knew what to say. After a moment, Alex sat down.
“Now what?” Blane asked Hedone in a low tone.
She shook her head. She had no idea.
Denver Cereal continues on Monday…
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