No Mercy (19 page)

“I admit all this crap is getting to me.”

“I imagine so. Anything I can do?”

“No. But thanks.” I peeked around the corner. “Is Dawson here?”

“I’m sorry the sheriff isn’t in.” She smiled wistfully. “Seems strange, saying that to you. When your daddy ran the county, we knew better than to make either of you girls wait. Didn’t matter what he was doing, whenever you called from overseas, he gave me explicit instructions to patch you right through.”

Jolene had worked for my dad forever. I wondered how she fared working for Dawson. “Bet
you
didn’t love those interruptions.”

“I didn’t mind.” Jolene straightened a stack of folders on the corner of her desk. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s some paperwork floating around I’m supposed to fill out. Thought I’d try to catch Dawson before he went home.”

“Too late. He’s gone.”

My raised eyebrows weren’t entirely faked. “Dad never took off before six. Dawson keeping banker’s hours?”

“Not usually. Seems he’s always here. Think he’s afraid if he isn’t he’ll get lost in your dad’s shadow.”

“That would be easy.” I hesitated, hoping she’d buy my unease. “Can I ask you something about my dad and the department?”

“Sure.”

“Why’d he pick Dawson as his successor when there were other deputies who’d worked for him longer?”

Jolene lived to gossip. She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear before she mock-whispered, “Caused a big stir. Bill O’Neil was the only one interested in the position. And he’s close to retirement. Wyatt wanted new blood in here; that’s why he hired Dawson.”

New blood or bad blood?
nearly tripped off my tongue. Instead, I manufactured a puzzled look. “Remind me again where Dawson came from?”

“Bennett County Sheriff’s Department in Minnesota. He called here about a year ago and asked if we were hiring.”

“Convenient.”

My sarcasm was lost on Jolene. “Very. Dawson moved here right after his interview. He’s renting that old trailer on the Lohstroh place.”

“You’d think if he planned on sticking around he’d want to buy, not rent.”

“Oh, he’s talked plenty about it. He even keeps regular contact with McIntyre’s realty office. But I suspect he’s holding off on buying anything permanent until he knows how the election goes.”

“Sounds to me like he’s got it sewn up.”

“Not necessarily.” She looked at me expectantly.

“What?”

“Some folks are hoping maybe you’ll stick around and give him a run for his money.”

That absolutely floored me.

Jolene laughed. “Hadn’t considered running for sheriff? Ain’t that the way it goes in this county? If it involves you, you’re always the last to know.”

I practically ran out of the building, visions of Suzanne Somers’s bad ’80s sitcom
She’s the Sheriff
, replaying in my head.

As I reached the door Jolene said, “Don’t write it off as craziness, Mercy. There’s a lot of your dad in you. He always did the right thing. You will, too.”

Dawson wasn’t doing his job solving murder cases. But… if I gave him the benefit of the doubt, his lack of progress could be blamed on inexperience. Homicides were rare in Eagle River County. With three suspected cases of murder, Dawson might be in over his head and trying to hide it.

Naturally he’d bristle if the former sheriff’s daughter started questioning his experience, his commitment to the community, and his methodology. Especially in light of the rumors circulating I might have my eye on his job.

Jesus. No wonder he always seemed to be following me, showing up when I least expected it, and asking me a million questions.

The more scenarios I ran, the more guilt I felt. Yet my main focus hadn’t changed: finding out who’d killed Levi. As soon as possible. By any means necessary. With or without Dawson’s help.

However, the next time Dawson and I crossed paths, I’d be… nice to him. Pleasant even.

Yeah, that oughta throw him off balance.

I pulled up to the house. A bag of trash was piled alongside the outer wall on the porch, and for the briefest second, it morphed into the shape of a body. Sue Anne’s body. My stomach lurched. I closed my eyes. When I reopened them, it was just garbage. I didn’t have the mental fortitude to walk across the porch. My ankle hurt as I limped around the corner of the house and entered through the front door.

Despite the ghastly vision of Sue Anne’s bloody body propped on my porch, the time had come to track down Moser and Little Bear. Chances were slim they’d talk to me. Chances were high I’d try to change their minds.

Tomorrow. I’d had enough of today. Exhausted and in pain, I wolfed down a protein bar and crawled into my bed.

Some time later, loud voices in the kitchen woke me. I ventured downstairs. Theo’s arm was draped across Hope’s shoulders. She rested against him, her posture the picture of dejection. My chest cavity ached, as if she’d jammed her hand inside and squeezed my heart in her fist.

Theo looked at me and frowned. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

I live here, asshole
. “Yeah? Well, I didn’t think you’d be here. After what’s happened, maybe this isn’t the best place for Hope to be.”

Hope raised her tear-filled eyes. “Is it true? Was that girl found here today Levi’s girlfriend?”

“’Fraid so.”

“First Albert, then Levi, and now her? What is going on?”

“Dawson can’t believe those kids were some kind of random victims,” Theo said angrily. “Isn’t it obvious there’s a common tie? Especially when Levi and Sue Anne were seeing each other. This certainly is a—”

“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.

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?”

“No!”

“Maybe it was one of your buddies? Did Moser snap Albert’s neck like this?” I amplified the force by jerking my arm harder around his throat.

“Stop. Jesus, that hurts.”

“Who tried to cut off Sue Anne’s head?”

“I don’t know! Sue Anne ain’t been around, and the rest of us been laying low for a while.”

“During this time you decided to ‘lay low,’ did you come up with a plan to keep Levi Arpel out of your club by killing him?” As I said Levi’s name, I rammed Randall’s hand further up his spine.

He whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”

“Not as bad as you’re gonna hurt if you don’t answer the fucking question.” I bent his thumb until it reached his wrist. “Tell me everything or I break it.”

“We didn’t have nothing to do with Levi. And after what happened with Sue Anne, some of us want out. We’re having a meeting with the leaders.”

“When?”

“In the next couple days.”

“Where?”

“I ain’t sure. Lemme go.”

“Yeah,” a deep voice said behind me. “Let him go.”

Keeping my grip on Randall, I wheeled around, using him as a human shield in case these idiots were armed. Satisfied they weren’t, I threw him at Moser’s feet. Everyone jumped back. Randall stayed on the ground.

“I don’t like nobody fucking with my friends,” Moser said.

“Yeah? We have something in common then, ’cause I don’t like nobody fucking with my family.”

“So who’s your family?”

“Levi Arpel was my nephew.”

Moser, Little Bear, and Bucky exchanged a look.

“What do we care? He’s dead.”

“That’s why I’m here, Moser. For answers on
why
he’s dead.”

Little Bear grabbed his crotch. “I got answers for you right here, bitch.”

The guys behind him laughed.

“But I’m looking for big answers, Little Bear, not small ones.”

That got real laughs until Moser sent them a dirty look. “What makes you think we know anything about it?”

“It’s too goddamned coincidental that Albert and Sue Anne were both in the Warrior Society, but trying to get out, and Levi wanted to be in, but you kept him out, and now all three of them are dead.”

Moser shrugged. “Shit happens.”

“I don’t buy that.” My gaze swept the other pimple-faced beanpole. “Bucky and Levi had a fight the night before Levi was murdered. Maybe I oughta drag Bucky to Sheriff Dawson and let Dawson question him.”

“You can’t force him off the rez because of the sovereign nation laws,” Moser said smugly. “Besides. He’s a minor. That’s kidnapping.”

The little bastard thought he was so smart. Time to smack his pride and point out his stupidity. “Wow. Almost sounds like you’re still calling the shots, Moser. But I heard your so-called spiritual leaders horned in and took over.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Little Bear snapped.

“Bet that burns your ass. You’re nothing but a whipping boy. Literally. I heard about the ‘toughening’ rituals. Do these advisers let you do anything without their permission? Or do you obey like good little conquered Indians and do what they tell you?”

Randall leaped to his feet. “How’d you know? That big-mouthed bitch Sue Anne—”

Moser punched Randall in the jaw and Randall hit the dirt like a hailstone. Then Moser focused on me. Little Bear flanked his left side.

“You don’t know shit.”

“Yeah? Sue Anne told me a bunch of stuff. So did Levi.”

Moser’s nasty, snaggle-toothed grin appeared. “Whatever Sue Anne said was a lie. And Levi didn’t know nothing. Besides, ain’t like you can ask him.”

Little Bear laughed.

“Gang-raping Lanae Mesteth wasn’t a lie, and I know that’s why Sue Anne stopped going to meetings.” When none of the guys disputed my statement, I had that sinking sensation in my gut.

I grasped for something solid. A threat they hadn’t considered. “If I call Lanae and tell her Sue Anne was murdered, she’ll come back here and testify against all of you and your leaders.”

No response.

Someone a lot more intimidating than me kept these boys on a short leash. “Why is their identity such a secret? Why are you guys protecting them? You know they wouldn’t do the same for any of you.”

That got Moser’s attention. He muttered in Lakota to Little Bear and they each took a step sideways.

Ooh, I didn’t like the looks of divide and conquer.

As I reached for my gun, a banshee wailed behind Little Bear. My fingers froze on the grip. Next thing I knew, a broom handle thwacked Little Bear across his upper back with enough force he crashed to the ground.

Swish swish crack
. Another grunt of pain. This time from Moser. I saw he’d curled his left hand over his right bicep.

Before Moser recovered, another loud
crack
sounded as the stick connected with his shins. Moaning, he fell to his knees.

I looked up to see who’d come to my rescue.

Hope.

I blinked.
Hope?
What was she doing here?

Before I could warn her to get the hell back, she brandished the long stick above her head like a Valkyrie poised for battle. “Which one of you bastards did it?”

No one uttered a peep.

“Somebody better start talking.” Hope pointed the end of the stick at Bucky, jabbing him hard in the sternum. “You. Now. Talk. Why is my son dead?”

“I-I d-don’t know.”

“Liar!” She swung the stick so fast if Bucky hadn’t ducked, his fat head would’ve been pulp. “Try again.”

I’d never seen this side of my sister. It was as beautiful as it was scary.

“We didn’t have nothing to do with Levi getting killed,” Bucky said.

“Then why all the intimidation and shit, huh? Why’d you act like you were gonna beat the crap outta my sister if you haven’t done nothing wrong?”

Randall blurted, “Because we’re scared! And now she comes around asking the same questions we been asking each other—”

“Shut the fuck up, Meeks,” Little Bear snarled.

Hope’s shrill laugh could’ve shattered glass. “You should be scared. Of me. So help me God, if I find out one of you punks killed my son, I will track you down and beat you to death.”

I moved to stand by Hope, poised to make an escape. Someone would notice us before too much longer, and, like Dawson, I’d rather avoid dealing with tribal cops.

“If you guys are telling the truth, and you didn’t have anything to do with your friends ending up dead, I guess I’d worry if the secrets I was keeping are worth dying for. I’d be freaking out that I’d be the next one.”

They had nothing to say to that either.

Hope warned, “Don’t follow us. Stay right there until we’re gone.” She wielded the stick as we backed away.

We rode in silence to the Indian Health Services Hospital and parked in the visitors’ lot.

An SUV towing a fishing boat screamed up to the emergency room entrance. I couldn’t see what injury constituted an emergency, so out of habit my mind supplied all sorts of gruesome images involving fishhooks, fillet knives, and propellers.

I rolled my window down. The night air smelled stagnant: old sweat socks mixed with sewer gas and dead animals. “Thanks for coming to my rescue tonight.”

Hope smiled slightly.

“How did you happen to stumble across me in Eagle River? When we’re both miles from home.”

“Does kinda smack of coincidence.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m channeling John-John’s psychic abilities. I just knew I needed to get away from Theo after supper.”

Get away
from lover boy? That was new.