“Clusterfuck?”
Poor Theo seemed pissed I’d cut off his impromptu lecture.
“Funny. If you were in my class…”
He rambled. I tuned him out until something clicked. “Hey, wasn’t Sue Anne in your class?”
“Yes. I hardly see what that has to do with anything.”
“Did she come to class last night?”
“No. Lately she’s been missing more than she’s been there, which makes it difficult to talk to her about her excessive absences, doesn’t it?”
“It’s kind of a moot point now.” I took a mental step back. Hope would probably appreciate it if we dropped it. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
“Theo is making supper at his place.” Her eyes glistened again and she said softly, “I have to get out of that house.”
“And I have to make sure she eats properly.”
I was afraid they’d invite me over. Okay, when a decent interval passed and they didn’t issue even a half-assed invitation, I felt slighted. Hypocritical, I know. Just to be ornery, I asked Hope if she needed a ride.
“No. I’ll drive myself.”
“You sure you’re feeling up to it?”
“She’ll be fine,” Theo assured me. “I live about four miles out of town. Small place, but it does have a barn. Nothing slick like your setup here. You should come out and ride with me sometime. I’ve got an old paint horse that won’t spook you.”
I went rigid.
Panic flared in Hope’s eyes. She stepped away from Theo. “Mercy doesn’t ride horses. Ever.”
“Why not?”
Hope waited for me to answer.
I didn’t. Instead, I said, “See you,” and scrambled up the stairs. By the time I’d reached the top, my ankle hurt and my heart hammered. I flattened myself against the wall to regain control. Normally I didn’t have such a visceral reaction at the mere mention of horseback riding. The blood and the death and the bad memories were getting to me.
I heard Hope say, “I can’t believe you said that to her.”
And Theo’s smarmy, “Not my fault she freaked out. It’s been… what? Thirty years since your mom died? I say your sister needs to get over it. Climb back on the horse that threw her, so to speak.”
“Know what? Mercy doesn’t deserve you being an asshole to her in her own house, Theo. Sometimes you just plain piss me off.”
The door slammed behind her.
I don’t know which surprised me more, that Hope had stood up to Theo or that she’d stuck up for me.
FOURTEEN
The following night I sketched out a rough plan.
The rec center on the Eagle River Reservation was the hot spot for teens. With Sue Anne’s murder, I assumed kids would band together, if not to grieve, to gossip. I’d hang out and see what was what.
No reason to disguise myself. None of them had attended Levi’s funeral, but Little Bear, Moser, and that group had seen me once in the dark parking lot at the barn dance. I’d spent the majority of my life blending in. If I couldn’t stay off the radar of self-absorbed teens, it was time to hang up my spy gear.
I grabbed my Walther P22 and hid it in an ugly crocheted purse Sophie had crafted that I’ve always hated-be a good reason to get rid of it. Yeah, carrying a firearm to an Indian reservation where I’d be around minors probably wasn’t smart. But I’d had enough of being on the receiving end of violent acts. Time to go on the offensive.
Not having streetlights was a double-edged sword for Eagle River. It masked the poverty but provided the ideal situation for criminal activity.
Vehicles cruised the main drag. People of all ages staggered beside the road. Alcohol wasn’t permitted on the reservation. Didn’t seem to stop it from flowing. Two liquor stores were set up on either end of the highway running through the center of town. Deaths from drunk driving were commonplace.
I hated that the tribal police didn’t try harder to control the amount of booze brought in. But the cops spent so much time dealing with the aftereffects of alcohol-drunks, accidents, and domestic violence-that preventative measures were impossible to sustain.
I parked in front of the rec center. Hide in plain sight, that’s my motto. I jammed a ball cap on my head and slid into the corner booth by the snack bar.
Quick recon revealed the building consisted of two main rooms and hallways running opposite directions from those rooms. Levi had mentioned to Jake that his group hung out by the pool tables. I ordered a pitcher of Coke and a cheese pizza while I waited.
Nobody paid attention to me. An hour passed. My bladder was full. Time to check out the bathrooms and exits.
No cameras and the men’s room was at the end of the corridor, next to a utility closet. And score-an emergency exit. Despite the placard exclaiming ALARM WILL SOUND, I figured it’d been years since the alarm had functioned.
By the time I’d returned from the restroom, Moser, Little Bear, and the entourage held court in the two booths across from the pool tables. Thank God no music thumped from the speakers to hamper my eavesdropping.
I studied the dynamics of the group and decided it’d be nearly impossible to get Moser or Little Bear alone. I’d have to try for one of the other kids.
Two stood out as potentials. The reed-thin boy with long stringy black hair, a goiter, and a nervous habit of checking his wristwatch. Randall Meeks? Or Bucky One Feather? The other good-sized kid with the group could be a threat, so I set my sights on the geeky one.
As I sat in the booth and watched these thugs, my anger grew. It wasn’t fair Levi was dead. It wasn’t fair these kids were laughing and joking while Sue Anne was lying on a steel table with her throat cut.
I wanted to bang their stupid heads together until I got the answers I needed, or until their blood spilled. I caught myself making a fist on the table. For a second I closed my eyes and sought the internal black void where emotions didn’t exist.
Calmer, I pretended to flip through a community newspaper, keeping an eye on the trash talking and the movements of the players.
Randall Meeks weaved through the crowd of preteens to the bathrooms.
Showtime.
I allowed him about thirty seconds before I followed. In the shadowed hallway, I pulled out my gun, tossing the purse in the corner behind the mop bucket. I stuck the compact pistol in my back pocket.
The door to the women’s restroom squeaked. Giggling female voices faded behind me.
I positioned myself by the utility closet.
Randall exited the bathroom and tried to blow past me. I blocked him.
“Hey. Whatcha doing? Get outta my way.”
“No. Turn around and walk to the emergency exit.”
“What the fuck? Did Moser put you upta this?”
“Start walking.”
“Fuck off. I ain’t goin’ no place with you.”
He turned sideways. He made it two steps before I wrapped my arm around his throat and jerked him to a stop. I hissed in his ear, “You had a choice. Now you don’t.”
A strangled sound emerged. “You’re choking me.”
“No shit. Not another word.” I propelled him out the door.
The emergency exit opened into the back parking lot next to the Dumpster. Immediately the gag-inducing odor of old grease and the sour stench of moldy cheese assaulted my senses. Once we hit the pavement, I switched my hold, twisting one arm behind his back in addition to keeping the choke hold.
He yipped with pain.
“Your name.”
“Randall M-meeks.”
“Tell me about the Warrior Society, Randall.”
“I don’t know nothing about it.”
I increased the pressure on his arm.
He moaned.
“Try again. The Warrior Society.”
“Okay, okay. I’m in it.”
“Why are two members, Albert Yellow Boy and Sue Anne White Plume, dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who killed them? Was it you?”