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MOONSHADOW
MURDER |
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DEPUTY SHERIFF MANNY RIVERA gripped
the steering wheel tightly as he drove north out of Moab on US
191. His thoughts were fixated on Sheriff Denny Campbell, his
new boss. He detested working for the man. Each successive
encounter with Campbell increased Rivera’s urge to punch him in
the mouth. |
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The
ring tone of his new iPhone interrupted his brooding. He
heard the familiar voice of Millie Ives, the sheriff’s
dispatcher for as long as anyone could remember. She
directed Rivera to proceed to the west end of Spring
Canyon Point Road, a backcountry road in the remote and
empty landscape west of Moab. A corpse had been
discovered. Possible homicide. |
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He
switched on the light bar of his Grand County Sheriff’s
Department Ford F-150 pickup and sped toward the scene.
He turned left on Highway 313, followed the switchbacks
to the top of the mesa, and headed west, leaving the
pavement and entering an undulating panorama of canyons,
red-rock boulders, jagged outcroppings, and arroyos. |
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An
hour later, he hit the brakes and slid to a stop on a
rutted dirt road. He hopped out of his vehicle and
trotted through the blackbrush and junipers toward the
people in the distance. |
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Two
men and a woman stood huddled together, their clothing
and hairstyles reminding Rivera of hippies from the
nineteen-sixties. The man with the shoulder-length grey
hair and aviator sunglasses stepped forward with an
anguished expression. He silently pointed a finger into
a depression in the terrain. |
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Rivera
saw a slender young woman with long blond hair sprawled
face-up in the sandy bottom, her eyes open and her arms
and legs awkwardly extended. She wore faded jeans and a
white peasant blouse with embroidered flowers around the
neck and waistline. He descended the bank, knelt down
next to her, and felt for a pulse. She was dead. Her
neck was marked with dark purple bruises and her eyes
were bloodshot. |
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Rivera
closed her eyelids with his fingertips and looked up at
the group. "When did you find her?" |
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"About
three hours ago," said the man in aviator sunglasses.
"Her name is Sunshine. We call her Sunny." |
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"Three
hours ago? What took you so long to call it in?" |
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"We’re
from the MoonShadow commune over there." He pointed to
an immense whaleback-shaped protrusion of sandstone a
mile away. "There are twelve of us, or, there were
twelve of us. Now eleven." His voice cracked as he
spoke. "We live very simply. We have no cell phones or
internet service, so James had to drive the pickup into
Moab to inform the authorities." |
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Rivera
climbed up the bank and brushed the sand off his
trousers. He extracted his iPhone and called the
sheriff’s dispatcher. He reported the situation and
requested the Medical Examiner be sent immediately. |
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Rivera
turned to the spokesman. "Are those your footprints down
there?" |
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"Yes,
Sir. I went in there to check on Sunny. A long time ago,
I was an Army medic so I knew right away she was dead. I
tried not to disturb anything." |
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"What
is your name?" |
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"I’m
Orin, leader of the commune." |
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Rivera
pulled a notepad and ballpoint pen from his shirt
pocket. "Last name?" |
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Orin
glanced at his two companions as if soliciting their
concurrence. "We’ve all abandoned our family names. We
use first names only. If you live in a community of just
twelve people, there’s no need for last names." |
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Rivera
looked up from his notepad and studied Orin’s face. He
appeared sincere and his response was matter-of-fact so
Rivera decided not to press the matter. There would be
plenty of time later to get everyone’s full name. He
wrote down the man’s given name, then looked back into
the depression. "All right Orin, I see your footprints
and mine down there but I don’t see any for Sunshine." |
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"We
had real heavy thunderstorms out here last night. Her
footprints must have gotten washed away." |
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And
her killer’s, Rivera thought to himself. "What can you
tell me about Sunshine?" |
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"Well,
she arrived at MoonShadow last September, just about a
year ago. A man in a pickup truck dropped her off with
her belongings. She just smiled and said she was a good
cook and made jewelry. She was only eighteen, very young
compared to the rest of us. I worried that she might not
fit in because of the age difference, but we needed
another cook to share the chores. We accepted her and
assigned her to one of the living quarters. Turned out
she fit in real well. Everyone loved her and sort of
adopted her like a daughter." |
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"Do
you know where she came from?" |
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She
didn’t say. Our policy is not to pry. If one of our
people wants to talk about his or her past, that’s fine.
But we don’t pry." |
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Rivera
took a deep breath and let it out. Turned to the other
two people. "What are your names?" |
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The
woman spoke first. She had tan, freckled skin and wore a
man’s white shirt and faded jeans. Her graying brown
hair hung to her waist. Rivera estimated she was in her
mid-fifties. "My name is Helen. I’ve lived at the
commune for fifteen years. This is so sad." She was
trembling and tears ran down her cheeks. "Sunny was such
a sweetheart." |
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Rivera
nodded sympathetically. He jotted down her name and
turned to the man standing next to her. He appeared to
be in his late forties or early fifties. He was tall and
thin with angular features, straight black hair, and a
full beard. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a necklace
strung with what appeared to be dried beans. "And you,
Sir?" |
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"I’m
Calvin." He avoided eye contact and spoke in a soft,
almost inaudible voice with a southern drawl. "Been at
MoonShadow now for about twelve years, I’d guess." |
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Rivera
looked at Orin. "What were the three of you doing out
here?" |
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"Well,
including James who I sent into town to get help, the
four of us were searching for Sunny. She didn’t come
home last night." |
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"I
saw her leaving MoonShadow around dusk," said Helen.
"She headed west directly toward the oncoming
thunderstorm. By the time the rains arrived at
MoonShadow, it was dark and she still hadn’t returned. I
told Orin I was worried about her but he said there was
nothing we could do until dawn." |
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"It
was too dark to go searching last night," said Orin.
"And the rain was coming down in sheets. All we could do
was hope Sunny found an alcove or an overhang so she
could stay dry. At first light this morning, we set out
in the same direction Helen saw Sunny heading last
night. We spread out in a line, searching and calling
her name. After about an hour, Calvin spotted her down
there and shouted for us to hurry over." |
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Was
it unusual for her to go out into the desert by herself
like that?" asked Rivera. |
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"Not
at all," said Helen. "She did it quite often. She’d go
searching for pods or seeds or small colorful stones to
use in making her jewelry. She made bracelets,
necklaces, earrings, and even decorative jewelry boxes.
And she was good at it. She made that necklace Calvin is
wearing." |
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Calvin
smiled, exposing a prominent overbite. He held up the
necklace for Rivera to see. "Sunny told me they’re
mesquite beans." |
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"Sometimes
on weekends, she’d drive the pickup into Moab and sell
her wares at the Farmer’s Market in Swanny Park," said
Helen. "Her work was excellent so her jewelry was
popular with the tourists." |
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Rivera
jotted the information into his notepad. "Okay, thanks.
The Medical Examiner is on his way out here now. He’ll
take care of Sunshine’s body. I’d like for the three of
you to return to the commune and wait for me there.
After I get through here, I’ll come over. I’ll want to
talk to everyone at the commune. And please don’t let
anyone disturb anything in Sunshine’s quarters." |
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The
three residents of the MoonShadow commune left as
requested and slowly meandered through the rocks and
brush toward home. Orin had his arm around Helen who was
sobbing. Calvin trailed along behind them. |
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In
the quiet of the high desert, Rivera could hear Helen’s
plaintive voice. "Everybody loved Sunny. Why would
anyone do such a thing?" |
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