Please welcome Melinda Elmore, our guest on The Roses of Prose today.
I would like to thank you for
allowing me here today. It is truly an honor. I love the Roses of Prose and all
its wonderful authors. I would like to take a moment to introduce myself.
About Melinda...
Melinda
has several books published and has been married to her wonderful husband, Tom
for nearly 25 years when unexpectedly she lost her precious husband in Oct 2011.
She has two remarkable children, Shaelee and Erik. She calls the state of
Arizona her home. She discovered wealth is not measured in how much money she
has but in how much love she shares. She worked for The Apache Messenger on the
San Carlos Apache Reservation as a reporter and sales rep; currently she is a
911 dispatcher with the Gila County Sheriff’s Office in Payson, AZ. She also
loves to write her stories that she hopes entices every reader.
As
a young child, she loved reading and writing. Many nights she would wrap up in
a blanket, daydream, while she turned the exciting pages of a book. The books
would take her too many places. She loved the idea of going from the normal
world in which she lived, then instantly be taken to a place far away. To her
surprise, she started writing and creating her own world; a place where she
could go and lose herself with just a pen and paper. She grew up with the
fascination of the American Indian. Her love for them grew by leaps and bounds
as she read about them from her history book. She wanted to show, in her writings,
of the proud people the American Indians truly are. They show honor and respect
for all living things. If she can capture just a small portion of that in her own
writings then that would be an added bonus for her. Native American mysteries
are her passion. She hopes to reveal in her books the uniqueness of the
American Indian. The love of her family and the love for the American Indian
have become focal points in her stories. She sincerely prays readers enjoy the
characters she brings to life on each turning page!!!!
Walk
in harmony,
Melinda
DeShay
gazed toward skan, sky, and cetan, hawk circled overhead. She closed
her eyes when a feather brushed her hand. The feather of a hawk or eagle is
sacred to the Lakota.
Slowly
opening her eyes glancing down at the feather. It had faded quite a bit and
parts were missing, as if they had been pulled off in a struggle. She shrugged
at the thought of why the feather had been damaged but then disregarded her
feelings and placed the feather in her pocket.
When
she turned to set up her site, something else grabbed her attention. The
distinctive odor of death. Uneasiness crept inside her but she couldn't ignore
the object sparkling in with the sun's rays.
Studying a mound of dirt that held the object, understanding suddenly
registered – a dead body.
Cautiously
approaching the unknown mound, her heart beat faster, her stomach clenched, and
her mouth went dry. She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, trying to
keep the order from gagging her. A cry of anguish escaped DeShay's lips when
she realized the remains were human.
The
young woman lay supine, clasping something in her hand. As DeShay came closer,
she identified the object as a medicine wheel, hand painted, with an arrow in
the center pointing southwest. The cause of death was not evident, at least not
to DeShay.
Her
mind raced, then she turned and ran toward her Jeep, heart pounding, as she
leaped over the gate. She had to get her cell phone. Why hadn't she taken it
with her?
Finally,
her Jeep came into view. In her haste she tripped over a rock as she made her
way over the bumpy ground, then jumped to her feet and ran as fast as fast as
she could. Approaching her vehicle, she reached inside, grabbed the phone, and
frantically dialed 9-1-1.
* * * *
"Nine-One-One,
what is your emergency?"
"I'm
at Eagle Nest Canyon. I came to – to, um, there's a body! A dead girl. Please,
please send someone right away. Hurry!"
"Calm
down and tell me your name."
"DeShay.
DeShay Graywater," she answered, still out of breath from running.
"Tell
me exactly where you are, Miss Graywater."
DeShay
took, a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She blew out the breath
and said, "I'm near Eagle Nest Canyon, on a gravel road, off Highway 44,
just west of Wanblee."
"Officers
are en route. Stay by your vehicle until they arrive."
"I
will. But tell them to please hurry!"
"They
will be there as soon as they can. Remain calm, ma'am. They are on the
way."
"I'll
try. Thank you."
* * * *
She
opened a bottle of water and took a long drink. Although relieved she had
called the authorities and someone would soon arrive on the scene, she couldn't
get the picture of the dead woman out of her mind.
"Everything
will be okay," she whispered and wiped the sweat from her brow with the
back of her trembling hand. She ran her forearm over her forehead and wiped
away the sweat and willed herself to stop trembling. Her dig for today would
have to wait. For now, the poor woman was more important. The feather, medicine
wheel, and dead body were all connected because all were at the scene of the
crime and clutched in the victim's hand.
* * * *
Her
cell phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and
noticed the incoming number – 9-1-1.
"Hello?"
"Miss
Graywater? This is the nine-one-one operator. I wanted to let you know officers
have been alerted to the situation and should arrive soon."
"Okay,
thank you."
**************
DeShay paced around her vehicle trying to remain calm as the first
police
officer arrived. She was glad to see somebody she knew. Detective T.J.
Hawke had
been with the tribal police for many years, and now he was their
leader.
"Hey DeShay. What have you found?" Hawke asked.
She smiled. On the reservation everybody called him Hawke, and off
the
rez, he was
well known for his stubbornness. He was very handsome. Straight
shoulder-length
black hair, held by a feather at the back of his neck, set his
features.
Although he possessed a slender build, his muscles were obviously
toned. He was
a handsome and proud Native, one that turned heads wherever
he went.
"I know it's a female body."
"Show me exactly where she is." He reached in his car for
his crime
scene
investigation kit.
DeShay walked beside Hawke eager to show him what she found. She
noticed his
demeanor become intense, as they drew closer to the sacred butte.
Eagle Nest
Canyon was a place used by their people in search of vision quests.
"Hawke,
will you have to call in the feds?"
He spared her a glance. "Yes. They're on the way. I hope you
have a
permit."
"Of course I do. Do you know of anyone missing from around here,
other
than Abby
Winters?"
Detective Hawke stopped and bent over to pick up a rock, examining it
as he spoke.
She suspected this was his way of putting her at ease." Abby
Winters'
mother reported her missing about a week ago but there was nothing
to lead us to
believe foul play was involved. Her mother has been involved in
the fight to
protect and preserve native lands and some burial sites, which are
sacred to the
Lakota. We never found anything suspicious about her
disappearance,
so we thought she ran away."
DeShay look stunned. "I remember the Winters family. They fought
long
and hard for
the sacred sites. I recall the fight over Mato Paha, Bear Mountain,
or Bear
Butte. They went against a power of unknown proportions."
Detective Hawke smiled. "Where was this site located?"
"Bear Butte is just northeast of Sturgis. It's on the National
Register of
Historic
Places. A tourist trail was made leading all the way to the summit.
Now most of
our people don't use it because there are so many tourists."
"So many places have been taken from us." He sighed and
dropped the
stone.
"Let's go."
* * * *
The sun beamed down upon the butte. The bag DeShay had with her lay
just steps
away. She stopped and pointed.
"She's over there in the tall grass, Hawke"
As he approached the scene, he was careful not to disturb any
evidence.
The young woman's body lay supine with one knee bent. She clasped
something
in her right
hand that appeared to be a medicine wheel key chain.
"DeShay,
we must be careful. I want you to recall everything you saw
when you
pulled up to the site."
DeShay pondered the moments prior to finding the body.
"Everything
looked
normal. I mean if you're wondering if there were any vehicles around,
there was
nothing."
"So you didn't see anybody around, or leaving?" He crouched
and focused
on the body.
"No, Hawke, there was nothing.
"Okay, DeShay. This appears to be a murder and I think it's Abby
Winters.
Please stand over by the sunflowers and do not come any closer. We
best wait
for the feds
to show up." He removed his camera from the crime scene kit and
snapped
several pictures of the body. Where he saw tire tracks, he jammed
small yellow
flags on wire posts into the ground. "Let's head back to the main
