door. Agent Johnson had been waiting and let her in. “Thanks for coming, Bernie. How about some coffee?”
“Sure.”
She followed Johnson to an employee lounge, considerably larger and better equipped than theirs at Shiprock. The room had an upscale coffee machine and a full-sized refrigerator. Bernie selected Sumatra because it had the same letters as smart, plus some extras for good measure.
Johnson refilled a plastic water bottle.
“I was surprised to see you at the scene yesterday, Bernie. How have you been?”
“Busy and hot. I’ll be glad when the rains come and cool things off.” It was always hot in the Four Corners in July. She should have said something else, but being with Johnson made her nervous and awkward. “How about you? Have you had a good summer so far?” Bernie thought about calling the agent by her first name but couldn’t do it.
“Yeah, it’s fine. Busy and busier with the new body.”
“Did you identify the dead guy?”
Johnson moved toward the door as though she hadn’t heard the question. “Bring your coffee, and let’s get started.”
Bernie followed the agent down an empty hallway to her cubicle. She put her coffee mug on the desktop, using a coaster with the FBI seal that matched the one on her cup. FBI—Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity. Johnson sat and motioned her to a chair across the desk. The agent pulled out a notepad and pen.
“Thank you again for being here today. I’d like you to start at the beginning. You mentioned that you’d come to the trail for a run. Begin there, and tell me as much as you remember.”
Bernie took her notes from her backpack.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, I jotted down some things I thought might be relevant to the investigation. I want to be as thorough as possible.”
Johnson listened as Bernie started with her arrival at the trail, mentioning the cars she saw in the dirt lot, describing them as best she could. She recalled a sweaty middle-aged Navajo man, close to six feet tall, in jeans and a sleeveless shirt who stood slightly hunched with his hands on his knees at the trailhead. A woman with a blond ponytail had been unlocking a car, a small unleashed dog sniffing the dirt around the front tire. She noticed Johnson open her notebook and write something.
“Did you get the names?”
“No. That was before I knew about the body.”
“Please continue.”
Bernie mentioned that she had seen no other people until after she passed the dog, about ten minutes into the run. She detailed the initial dog encounter and continued chronologically.
Johnson made the occasional notation but did not interrupt.
Bernie described how the dog eventually led her to the red shoe and the black pant leg. “From the position of the body, I thought someone had fallen, maybe tripped and ended up in the bushes, knocked out by the fall. I called to the person, and when there was no response, I moved closer. That’s when I saw the plastic ties and the blood on his hand, and I assumed whoever it was was dead.”
Bernie sipped her coffee. The memory made it bitter.
“Did you check for a pulse?”
“Yes. No pulse.”
Johnson nodded once. “Go on.”
Bernie straightened in her chair. She chronicled the people she saw while she waited with the body. She referred to her notes a few times to make sure she had the details correct.
“I noticed that there weren’t any drag marks. I didn’t find sign of a struggle along the path. I examined the plants at the edge of the trail and took pictures. They weren’t trampled, and the dead person’s shoes and pants didn’t seem dusty. I didn’t spot anything that could have been a weapon and, except for the smear on his right palm, no obvious blood.” She mentioned that she had done a quick survey, looking for additional evidence as she walked back to the body after calling it in.
Johnson put her pen down. “Would you like a break? We can start again when you’re ready.”
Bernie shook her head and gave the woman credit. The agent had learned a few things—or perhaps recalled what she’d learned at the academy—compared to the last time Bernie had worked with her.
“All right then, tell me what you did next.”
“I went back to the edge of the trail to wait for my backup, Officer Bigman. Before he arrived, three people I’d already seen on the trail came by, returning to the parking area.” She mentioned that she had their names and contact information. “The dog continued walking up to