Mountainway Chant
Coulter & Woodard 2
By M.J. Calabrese
Cover Art: Reese Dante
Word Count: 62,209
#MM #Mystery #Suspense #Romance
BLURB
Adam Coulter has returned and is coping with the horrific events of sixteen months ago as best he can, but not everyone is happy about it. His best friend and new husband, Detective Eagle Woodard, doesn’t want to speak to him and it’s starting to look like his fifth marriage isn’t going to be anymore successful than his other four.
FBI Agent Rick Kessler and Navajo Reservation Police Lieutenant Carlos Aiello, Eagle’s cousin, have pulled a reluctant Adam into another case. Five bodies discovered at the site of a planned casino, all dressed and painted up as Native American mythological characters offer confusing clues. Are they dealing with another serial killer?
Fighting to stay clean and sober, Adam’s 12 step sponsor is murdered. At first it seems unrelated to what he saw in the desert, but evidence comes to light that says otherwise. Revelations concerning Adam’s past and his father, Richard Coulter’s, connections to the local crime syndicate boss, Nelson Greybill creates even more chaos.
Can Adam repair the damage he’s done to his relationship with Eagle so he can help him solve this case? Can he win back the only man he’s ever truly loved or will the demons of his past win the battle for his soul?
PLEASE NOTE: This is the second book in a continuous series. For full enjoyment please read Warrior’s Way before reading Mountainway Chant. Contains murder and mayhem, as well as dealing with an alcohol and drug addiction. If these are triggers for you, please skip this one!
Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited!
“Dr. Coulter, what do you think?” Kessler asked.
“Detective Woodard, Lieutenant Aiello, Agent Kessler.” He deliberately addressed each man by their professional titles. The words kept them all at a distance and that is what he needed to do. Adam removed his sunglasses from his face, deep green eyes squinting as he looked straight at Eagle. The thin, silvery scar that marred the left side of his face stood out in sharp contrast in the glaring sunlight. Adam noticed that Eagle flinched before looking away. Am I such a monster, Tonto, that you can’t even look at me? The thought rose unbidden in his mind. I never meant to hurt you. Adam turned his head.
Carlos risked a quick look at his cousin. Anyone else would’ve seen a stone faced officer beside him, but what he saw troubled him.
“If you’ve completed your assessment, Dr. Coulter. I’m sure we’d all like to release our CSI people to gather real evidence.” Eagle’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep his feelings in check.
Adam looked back and cocked his head, “Do you know what this is, Detective?”
“You mean, other than a crime scene that’s getting colder by the second?” Eagle snorted, “Well, I’m sure you’re going to enlighten us.”
Adam shoved his sunglasses back on his face. Crisscrossed silver scars on both arms were added reminders of the assault he’d suffered sixteen months ago. An assault Eagle blamed himself for. He had failed to protect the man standing before him and Adam had paid a heavy price. Each mark on Adam’s skin was like a slap in the face.
Again, Eagle glanced away. Crossing his arms over his chest, he feigned impatience.
“This…,” Adam waved his arm at the crime scene, “is a farce.”
The three men before him looked stunned, but Carlos recovered first. “What do you mean?”
“You have five bodies, but only one murder victim…, at least, I think he was murdered.”
Rick Kessler frowned. “Explain.”
Adam turned toward the circle. “The man in the center. Crows, vultures, and coyotes have started to prey on the carcass, but the other four…, except for that one,” he pointed to his right, “probably a young or starving coyote took a bite. There’s vomit about ten feet away. You can check it for DNA if the marks on the arm don’t give you conclusive evidence, but I think it was a coyote.” He pointed to the wrist of the body on the right. “No other predation. None of these other corpses have a mark on them. That’s because they’re tainted. My guess is they’ve been recently embalmed. If you get close, you can smell formaldehyde and the disinfectant chemicals they use before they process the bodies.
“Man started embalming the dead about 6000 years ago using various chemicals, but today formaldehyde based solutions are used. Notice where that bite is, there’s no blood. A large trochanter is placed in a major artery in the abdomen. The blood is drained out and replaced with the embalming fluid. The center corpse’s eyes are gone. All the others seem intact because the mortician placed plastic caps under the lid tissue. Eyeballs shrink and this helps keep the eyes closed as the body is processed. That’s why they haven’t started to decay in this heat.”
Eagle raised an eyebrow, now intrigued, he took a step closer to the first corpse to get a better look.
“The costumes…, that is what they are, and the theatrical face paint are all wrong. This was done by somebody with only a cursory knowledge of Native Americans. This is like something out of a painting or an art book.”
Carlos nodded his agreement.
“The center corpse was brought from elsewhere. Only the coroner will be able to tell you cause of death. The killer has knowledge of this site. He either has surveyor equipment or an App on his phone that gives explicit details of the site like this one.” Adam held his phone up so the others could see it, “It gives GPS coordinates showing the line between Navajo land and County land. The victim is probably linked to the casino the Navajos are planning to build here.” Adam took a breath and turned his focus on Rick Kessler. “The killer knew the victim. He knows this site. He has a sense of the dramatic. You’re searching for two people, Agent Kessler. The one who devised this elaborate charade and the other one probably killed the man in the center. We all good here?” Three heads nodded. “If so, can I address the forensics team and the other officers?”
Kessler frowned, “Why?”
“I think it’s time to address the elephant in the room, don’t you?” Adam turned to Carlos. “Can I use the tailgate of your truck again?”
Carlos nodded.
“Okay, people.” Adam raised his voice, clapping his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. Thirty people grew silent. Dropping the long sleeve shirt tied around his waist to the ground, he hopped up on the tailgate and addressed the curious crowd. “I know there have been a lot of rumors about what actually happened to me. I know some of you have questions.”
As he spoke, Adam undid his belt buckle. His jeans dropped down on his slender hips, exposing the area just above his penis and his lower back. Grabbing the hem of his tank tee, he whipped the fabric over his head before he had second thoughts. Holding his arms out, he turned slowly, letting the others see the scars and healed burn marks on his chest and back. He saw some look away. Others staring until they made out the words, liar and adulterer etched on his skin before they, too, looked down. The reaction surprised him. These were seasoned crime scene investigators. Most of them had seen worse, he was sure of that, but seeing them on a living body, a friend, drove home the heinousness of the crime against someone they all knew.
“I will entertain comments and questions, but I reserve the right to not answer. So, come on. Get it out.”
The first voice called out his opinion. “Wow, Adam, she beat the crap out of you.” Nervous laughter lightened the mood a bit.
Adam grinned, “Yeah, Carlos, that she did. She really did.” He looked around, “Anyone else?”
“Do the scars hurt?” A female voice called out.
“The scars on my back and buttocks are numb, but the burns are a different story. They’re still tender. As you notice, I’ve stopped manscaping.”
A few more laughs filtered through the group.
“Are you back to stay?”
“Yes. I don’t have any plans to leave again.”
“Uh, Adam.” One of the patrol officers pointed at his arms. “Are those track marks?”
Adam nodded, “Yes. I’ve had a long history of intermittent IV drug use. I have them on my legs and feet as well, but I’ve been clean and sober for eight months. Sort of a record for me.”
A voice from the back of the crowd piped up. “I heard she castrated you, did she?”
“Partial castration. I’m a one-nut wonder now, Dave.”
“I heard you and Detective Woodard are legally married. Is that true?”
Adam looked over at Eagle. “Yes.” He didn’t bother to elaborate as he watched his husband start to walk away.
M.J. is giving away a Kindle Fire 7 and a copy of Mountainway Chant!
My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”
My father never saw his old Remington portable until I entered college and they gifted me an IBM Selectric. By then I had produced at least two dozen unpublishable novels which make me cringe when I read them today.
I found inspiration in innumerable odd jobs (from migrant work as a Date palm pollinator to the person who cleans the washing machines at the launderette to professional Dominatrix) for stories. After a stint in Rehab for Alcohol and Heroin abuse (so when I write those scenes, I know what I’m talking about), I cleaned up and have stayed that way for 29 years. (Me and Sir Elton, LOL). My gypsy lifestyle gave me a unique perspective on the different people who inhabited the Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California, and New Mexico areas where I have lived.
After 3 very bad marriages to men, I finally figured out what was wrong and fell in love with a woman when I lived in Portland, OR 23 years ago. We’ve been married since 2008 (yes it was legal in California at that time). We now live in Asheville, NC and love the people in this liberal and accepting corner of the mountains of North Carolina.
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