Montana Midwife (6 page)

“When was the last time you came to the ranch?” her grandma asked.

“It must have been two years ago. Misty was in high school.” She’d been surprised by Misty’s physical maturity. The little girl she’d once known had become a woman, but she’d still run to greet Tab and give her a massive hug. She hadn’t seen Aiden on that trip.

Her grandma nodded. “After you moved to Missoula for nursing school, you barely had time for me on your visits.”

When Tab came to her grandma’s house, there was usually a specific reason, like taking care of home repairs or making sure her grandma got a checkup with the local doctor. Though Maria Spotted Bear was self-sufficient and didn’t need constant watching over, both Tab and her dad made a point of checking in with Grandma, just to be sure she was okay.

As her van rounded the last curve leading to the Gabriel ranch, Tab saw lights shining from every window of the two-story, cedar-sided ranch house with the peaked roof. Several vehicles parked outside the three-car garage to the left of the house. To the right was a barn with a corrugated metal roof. She knew that Aiden lived in a separate cabin behind the barn. Did he keep his helicopter back there?

She parked her van at the end of a row of cars. From the back, she took a satchel containing a sweet potato pie and the cornbread her grandma had made for their dinner. Maria Spotted Bear never went visiting empty-handed, even though it seemed somewhat inappropriate to bring pie to a murder investigation.

Approaching the house, Tab glanced at the far left upstairs window under the eaves. That had been her bedroom during the summer she’d lived here. She remembered a long-ago night when she couldn’t sleep and had perched on the sill, looking out at the long, straight driveway. She’d spotted Aiden, striding toward the house with his border collie trotting along beside him. For some reason—she’d never known why—he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just his jeans, boots and hat. For a moment, he’d paused. His shoulders rose and fell as though he was sighing. He’d taken off his beat-up Stetson and tilted his head to gaze at the moon. The silvery light bathed him in an ethereal glow—an image that branded itself indelibly in her mind.

Her grandma climbed the three steps to the veranda ahead of her and rapped on the door. A stocky woman in a denim vest opened the door.

“Maria Spotted Bear,” the woman said in an authoritative alto voice. “Is this an official visit? Are you representing the tribal council?”

“I’m here as Sylvia’s friend,” her grandma said. “This is my granddaughter, Tab Willows. Tab, this is Laura Westerfall. She’s with the BIA.”

Briskly, Laura shook Tab’s hand. “You’re the midwife. I’ve been meaning to pay you a visit.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Tab was actually more suspicious than pleased. Agents from the Bureau of Indian Affairs often caused trouble for the tribe.

“You’re a trained nurse, right? And you worked with a women’s clinic in Missoula.”

“Have you been checking up on me?” Tab asked.

“Yes, I have. If you’re planning to stay in this area, I might have a proposition for you. Recently, some grant money has come available for rural medical care, and I’d like to focus on women’s health.”

“On the reservation?” Tab found it hard to believe there would be any significant financial aid for the relatively small Crow population. Any money at all surprised her.

“I’m thinking of a wider area.”

“So am I.” The women in this wide-open country—on and off the rez—had a long way to go to reach a hospital. Many were too poor to afford decent medical care. Even the services of a midwife stretched their budgets. “Are you saying the BIA could help?”

Laura combed her fingers through her short brown hair and smiled as she held out her business card. “Give me a call. We need to talk about a women’s clinic.”

In spite of the current problems, Tab’s spirits lifted as she imagined being able to help those who had so few resources. A grant from the BIA might be a dream come true.

Grandma interrupted her thoughts, taking the satchel with the pie and cornbread from her hands. “Where are your manners, girl? I came here to comfort Sylvia.”

“In the kitchen,” Laura said.

“I’ll take care of her,” Grandma promised. “You two should go into the living room. The boys sound like they’re arguing, getting ready to lock horns.”

Through an archway to the left was a paneled living room with heavy leather furniture and rugged coffee tables. In front of the moss rock fireplace, Sheriff Steve Fielding stood toe to toe with Aiden. Since the sheriff wasn’t much taller than Tab, Aiden towered over him and the two deputies he’d brought with him.

Aiden’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. “I see no valid reason to take my sister into custody.”

“If that’s the only way you’ll let me talk to her, I’ve got no damn choice.” The sheriff waved his men into action. “Deputies, I want you to arrest—”

“Hold on.” Laura inserted herself into their argument. “What’s the problem, gentlemen?”

Aiden spoke first. “I wanted Sheriff Fielding to handle this investigation because I believed he was better equipped to pursue the trail of evidence in a thorough manner. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all he wants is a quick arrest.”

“You’re the one who’s wrong,” Fielding said. “I came here to talk to Misty. Just to talk. I need some answers.”

“You already took her statement.”

“That cockamamie story about a mysterious shooter?”

“I won’t have you harassing my sister. She’s been through enough today.”

Though Tab agreed that Misty shouldn’t be subjected to more stress, she realized that Aiden was behaving in an unreasonable manner. And his overprotective attitude made it look like he had something to hide. “I have a compromise. What if the sheriff questions Misty while Aiden is present?”

The sheriff pointed his long, sunburned nose at her and squinted like someone who needed glasses. “You’re Tab Willows, right? I need to take your statement.”

“I’m happy to cooperate,” she said.

“But that’s not why you came here.” His squint became even more pronounced. “You live with Maria Spotted Bear. Are you here to speak for your tribe?”

The politics were getting annoying. Just because Tab was half Crow, it didn’t automatically make her a representative of her people. She was miles out of touch with local issues. Most of her life had been spent in Billings and Missoula. Not on the rez.

“I’m here as a concerned person,” she said. “Young women are being murdered and their bodies dumped on the rez. I want to see the killer brought to justice.”

“That’s the voice of common sense,” Laura said, backing her up. “Listen to her.”

“You have no standing here, Agent Westerfall.” The sheriff hitched up his belt. “You arranged for Joseph Lefthand to cede jurisdiction. This is my purview.”

“Don’t forget that I’m a federal agent, Sheriff. I’m not here to give orders, but I see no reason why we can’t do as Tab suggested.”

“Here’s your reason,” the sheriff said. “I can’t get the truth from Misty while she’s hiding behind her big brother.”

Before Aiden exploded again with righteous anger, Tab grasped his forearm and squeezed hard, compelling his attention. He wasn’t helping anything by being pigheaded. She stared into his eyes. “I’ll be with Misty while she’s talking to the sheriff. Is that all right with both of you?”

“It’s done.” Laura gestured toward the hall. “Sheriff Fielding will wait down here in the office. Tab will bring Misty to talk with him immediately.”

Everybody moved quickly, anxious not to destroy the fragile moment of truce. Tab found herself being escorted up the staircase by Aiden. This time, he was holding her arm above the elbow in a tight grip. His outrage manifested in a bodily heat that sizzled in the air around him.

Under his breath, he said, “I’ll be damned if I let the sheriff connect Misty to these murders. He’s delusional.”

“Calm down.” She fought to keep from being drawn into the vortex of his anger. “We have only a few minutes. Fill me in.”

“The first victim was raped,” he whispered.

“And the girl they just found?”

“We won’t know until after the autopsy. They’re transporting the body to Billings.” His jaw clenched. “Usually, the sheriff would call on me for transport in the chopper. Now he’s treating me like a suspect. It’s crazy. These are sex crimes. How could Misty be involved?”

On the landing at the top of the staircase, she gazed into Aiden’s gray eyes, searching for the truth. “The sheriff must have a reason.”

“He talked to Wally who went into detail about the wild parties he’s seen up and down the river.”

“Did he tell the sheriff that he saw David with a blonde girl named Ellen?”

Aiden nodded. “If Wally can be trusted, David knew the victim, but so did a lot of other people. She’s a local girl. The sheriff thinks these disappearances might be a bullying thing gone wrong. When the second victim was found wearing Misty’s wristwatch, he figured she was part of the gang.”

Aiden had said that the sheriff wanted a quick solution, and she thought he might be right. Supposing these murders were the actions of a gang tied Welling’s death to those of the missing girls. It made for a tidy solution.

She asked, “Why would he think Misty was involved?”

“She has a reputation for being wild.” Aiden shook his head and looked away. “Whenever there’s trouble, she seems to be the ringleader.”

Tab attempted to put a positive spin on his words. “She’s a leader. Headstrong. Determined.”

“Great qualities if you’re doing something good. And if not…” He drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s not her fault. I haven’t done a good job raising her.”

“You’re not her parent.”

“Gabriel Ranch and everything that happens here is my responsibility.”

He spoke with calm conviction as though his words were indisputable. When Aiden’s father died, he took on that mantle. The buck stopped with him. He was the protector, the caretaker and the final authority, even though his mother had taken over the day-to-day chores and the running of the ranch.

Seeing Aiden with his head bowed made her realize that he wasn’t the perfect, ideal man she’d cherished in her memories. He was real. He suffered just like any other man. Beneath his strength was a thick layer of sadness. He’d given up everything for his family. Somehow, that made him even more attractive to her. She wanted to comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be all right.

“Let me handle the sheriff,” she said. “If Misty is under too much stress, I’ll call an end to the questioning.”

He looked doubtful. “What if—”

“Stop,” she said quietly. “There’s only one thing that needs to happen. Misty has to tell the truth.”

“That’s what scares me.”

His fear touched her.

Though it seemed impossible, Misty could be involved in these dark, terrible crimes. Tab didn’t want to believe it was possible.

Chapter Six

In the downstairs office at the ranch, the decor showed a more feminine touch than the rest of the house. Sylvia spent most of her time behind the polished-oak desk, surrounded by antique wooden filing cabinets. A jar of jelly beans sat at the corner of the desk beside a bowl of fresh yellow roses. The computer screen saver showed a Degas painting of ballet dancers.

Sheriff Fielding perched on the edge of the desk facing Tab and Misty who were at opposite ends of a blue love seat. From what Aiden had told her, Tab knew that the sheriff considered Misty to be a prime suspect. But she saw hesitation and doubt in his eyes.

With a flannel robe belted above her pregnant belly, Misty couldn’t have looked less like the ringleader of a murderous gang. Under the pink velour robe, she wore striped yellow pajamas. Her freshly washed hair piled on top of her head with wispy blond curls escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed as though she’d been crying.

The sheriff cleared his throat. “Misty, it’s very important for you to be honest with me and tell me everything, even if you think it might get somebody else in trouble. This isn’t like high school. People are getting killed.”

“I know,” Misty said. “I saw David die.”

“Do you know Ellen Jessop?” the sheriff asked.

“Is she…is she dead?”

“I’m asking the questions, young lady.” His voice took on an authoritative edge. “Were you and Ellen friends?”

“We were both cheerleaders, but she’s a year older than me. Oh God, this is awful. The last time I saw her, we argued.”

“About what?”

Fidgeting on the sofa, she plucked apart a tissue she clutched in her hand. “I don’t want to say.”

Tab reached over and placed her hand on Misty’s arm. “You need to cooperate. Tell us about Ellen.”

“We were never really good friends. She used to date Clinton, and she hated that he was the father of my baby. She said that the only reason Clinton was with me instead of her was because my family is rich.”

Tab watched as the sheriff nodded. Had he heard this story before? In a small town like Henley, word traveled fast.

Misty continued, “Ellen’s family was going through hard times. After she graduated high school, they couldn’t afford to send her to college, and she had to work at the Feed and Seed store in Henley.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Tab asked gently.

“About a month ago. She was coming out of the drugstore, and I was going in. She asked me what time it was because she was late for work.” Misty giggled, and then frowned. “She said work was something I’d never had to think about, and she made it sound like I didn’t have a care in the world. But I do.”

The sheriff cleared his throat. “What did you say to her?”

“Everybody thinks my life is a breeze, but it’s not.” Her small fist clenched. “I’m having a baby. That’s going to be hard, really hard. Why don’t other people understand? All they see is money. They think being rich makes everything right.”

“It helps,” the sheriff said.

Misty lifted her chin. “I’d burn every dollar if I could have my daddy back. That’s what I really want. People are all that matters. I miss my daddy. Every day, I miss him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the sheriff said.