“So the markings we gave you are Muskogean?” asked Michelle.
“The language is actually Koasati, or more typically known as Coushatta. But it is of Muskogean origin.”
“So what does it say?” asked Sean. “What we gave you.”
Jenkins looked down at a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. “It was a bit difficult to figure out because none of the accent marks or other pronunciation points were included. For instance, there should have been a colon between Chaffa and kan. And, of course, the letters weren’t separated into words. That made it far more difficult.”
“Sounds like they didn’t want to make our job easy,” commented Sean.
“And they didn’t,” remarked Jenkins. “So what it says, as best we can figure, is this. Chaffakan means one. Hatka means white and Tayyi means woman.”
“One white woman?” said Sean.
“One dead white woman,” amended Michelle.
Jenkins glanced up sharply at her. “Dead?”
“It’s a long story, Phil,” said Sean. “What can you tell us about this Koasati stuff?”
“I consulted with a professor here who specializes in Native American languages. He’s the one who really cracked this. The Koasati tribe was part of the Creek Confederacy in what is now Alabama. However, when the Europeans started immigrating there, and because they were also under attack from rival tribes, the Koasati and the Alibamu tribes moved to Louisiana and then on to Texas. There are apparently no members of the tribes still living in Alabama. The bulk of the people who still use the language, and they only number in the hundreds, reside in Allen Parish, which is a little north of Elton, Louisiana. Although there are apparently a few speakers living in Livingston, Texas.”
Michelle and Sean stared at each other.
She said, “Texas and Louisiana. Pretty big places to search.”
“But if it’s narrowed down to towns, and to a few hundred people?” said Sean.
“But why put the words on Pam’s arms to begin with? Sure, they made it hard, but not impossible,” she commented.
Jenkins broke in. “These words were on a woman’s arms? And you said something about dead?”
“Not just dead, murdered ,” said Michelle.
“Oh dear Lord,” said Jenkins and he dropped the page on his desk.
“It’s okay, Phil, I doubt these folks are going to come back for another language demonstration. Thanks for the assist.”
As they walked from his office, Sean was shaking his head. “Why does this seem like a diversionary tactic?”
“And a knuckleheaded one at that, because they didn’t have to do it at all.”
“Agreed.”
“So what now?”
“We need to talk to Waters. Tell him what we know.”
“That jerk? Why?”
“Because we promised. And we need to find Willa just as fast as we can. So we’re going to need the Feds’ muscle behind us.”
“Yeah, well, don’t be surprised if that muscle comes down on us instead.”
CHAPTER 52
SEAN CALLED WATERS and they arranged to meet at a bar a few blocks away from the FBI’s Hoover Building.
“Didn’t expect to get a call from you,” Waters said as they sat at a table in the back.