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Heath was up early to make the cupcakes for the picnic the next day. Dela dipped her finger in the batter. “Yum, this is good. Much better than my ogre-looking strawberries.”
Heath laughed and said, “They aren’t pretty but I had a couple before bed last night. They taste good.”
“Good to know. I’ll have some for breakfast.” She sat at the table with a cup of coffee. “Are you going to check out the firefighter?”
“That’s first on my list after I go to the office and see if any other evidence was found in her car.”
Dela nodded. “I’m going to check her locker at work and see if she might have kept a book of the people she was blackmailing.”
“Good idea. I’m also going to get a warrant to search the house for anything like that as well. If the husband didn’t know about the blackmail, then he wouldn’t know there might be evidence of his wife’s death in their home. I’m hoping he hasn’t touched anything.”
“I’m sure he will cooperate. After all, he doesn’t want to be mistaken for the killer.” Dela was going on her gut reaction to Arthur’s fondness for Alex Kindale. If Arthur thought that much of the man, he must be a good person.
Heath sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. The cupcakes were in the oven and making the house smell good. He was dressed in his tribal uniform, all but the bulletproof vest, shirt, shoes, and duty belt. “When I finish eating, I’ll put the rest of my uniform on and go. If the cupcakes aren’t done, you’ll have to pull them out of the oven. Just leave them in the tins, but when they cool cover them with a cloth. I’ll frost them tonight while you’re at work.”
Dela smiled at the man across from her. “You know, you keep cooking and taking care of my animals and I may never let you leave.”
He peered into her eyes. “I never want to leave.”
The heat in his eyes and the assured tone in his voice, caused a lump to lodge in her throat. Dela held his gaze, unable to speak. She’d asked him to move in as a roommate because they knew each other so well. But it had gone from being just friends to being lovers and growing into feeling like a permanent thing. But she was still too stubborn and frightened to move in that direction.
The oven timer went off. Heath slid his chair back, took his dishes to the sink, and pulled the cupcakes out of the oven. “I see what you did,” he said. “You kept me mesmerized so I’d be here to take the cupcakes out.”
Dela laughed. It felt better to laugh with him than to think about giving herself over to him completely. She needed to know more about her father before she could give anyone all of her. She had to know if he had really died or if he’d run away when he found out her mom was pregnant with her. If it were the latter, she wasn’t sure she could trust any man, even Heath to stick around.
Heath disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready for work. Dela grabbed a protein bar, forgoing the messy chocolate covered strawberries, and called Mugshot. She was ready to start her day with a run.
It was Friday. She’d go to work around three p.m. and stay at the casino until one or two a.m. just to be around when there was a need for more security. After her run, she’d take a shower and meet her friend Molly at Hamley’s store. Molly wanted to find a dress for her wedding to Marty. Since it was Molly’s second wedding and the first one hadn’t gone well, she wasn’t wearing a wedding gown. As the maid of honor, Dela needed to show up and help even if she didn’t have a very good sense of style.
While helping Molly shop, she could ask her what she knew about the Kindales.
Heath reappeared all dressed. “You still planning on working until two?”
She nodded. “You know how crazy weekends can get this time of year. A lot of tourists passing through think a one-night bender at the Indian-run casino would be a good thing to do.” She wasn’t a fan of summers only because of the tourists. Yes, they brought in more money, but they also didn’t give a rip about the casino or the people who worked there.
He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, “Just be careful. If you learn anything of interest in the homicide investigation, let me know.”
“I will. Same goes for you. Something you learn might help me learn more, too.” She wasn’t a police officer but she had a good record as an Army military police officer for solving crimes.
“You know I will. Your brain seems to have a knack for figuring things out.” He leaned down and kissed her. Then said, “Think about what I said earlier.”
It took a second for her to remember what he was talking about. “Yeah that. You know I won’t give you any answer until we uncover the truth about my father.”
“And I’ll be here no matter what that answer is,” he said, releasing her.
That was what she loved about him. He wouldn’t give up on her. Even if she pushed him away as she had in high school after the death of her best friend, he would be there on the edges waiting to pick her up if she fell.
“You are the one and only person, well you and Molly, who I can count on to have my back.”
Heath grinned. “Táa-minwa. See you when you get home.” He left through the front door as Mugshot barked at the back.
“Always,” Dela said the translation of the word Heath had said when they made love as teenagers. Even though they had parted due to her guilt over Robin, she’d always known he would be back in her life by that one word. She walked over and let Mugshot in, unwrapping the protein bar. “Ready to go for a run before it gets too hot?”
Mugshot’s eyes brightened and his tongue slid out of his mouth. He loved his runs. Even after they had brought Jethro home. A donkey they had visited on their runs before the owner asked Dela to take the animal. Mugshot having only three legs made him the perfect running partner. He didn’t out-pace her.
She threw the wrapper in the garbage and they headed out.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Dela circled the block and found a spot to park in front of the Hamley Store. The building had first belonged to the Hamley Brothers who made saddles and western gear at this spot in 1905. More recently it was purchased by the Confederate Tribes of the Umatilla to preserve the history of the building and the legacy of the Hamleys.
Pushing open the large wood and glass door, Dela stepped into the building with brick walls and tin ceiling up nearly forty feet. Stairs to the right ascended to a loft in the middle of the room. Dela glanced at her watch. She was twenty minutes early. She’d run a couple of errands and was surprised at how quickly she’d finished them.
“Welcome to Hamley’s,” a clerk said from behind a counter where she was placing jewelry.
“Thank you. I’m waiting for a friend to arrive.” Dela rarely bought anything other than sport clothes. She had three dresses besides the polo shirts and slacks she wore for work. Buying clothes wasn’t something she enjoyed.
“We have photos of Roundup winners with Hamley saddles and some Native American artwork in the loft if you want to take a look,” the clerk offered as if she understood Dela’s nervousness at being in the store.
“Thank you.” Dela walked over to the stairs and took her time climbing. At the top, she noticed a large print of an Indian Chief she’d seen before. Intrigued she began at the top of the stairs, studying each piece of artwork and photograph she came to.
There was a photo album on a table. She flipped through the photos of saddles and some photos of the cowboys who won the saddles and other Roundup participants. She read the names on each photo.
She flipped a page and there was a photo of the Indian Relay Race winning team for the 1984 Roundup. She scanned the names below the picture to see if she knew anyone. She stopped and read again. Dory Thunder. He stood on the right side of four young men. The other three were smiling and he wore a scowl. She stared. His face looked familiar. Was it because he was related to Grandfather Thunder? She pulled the photo out of the plastic sleeve and snapped a picture of the photo with her camera. Flipping the photo over, she had hoped to learn more. All she found was the photographer’s sticker. She took a picture of that with her camera, too.
Dela studied the photo again outside of the shiny plastic sleeve. The face could be a younger version of the man in the mugshot she had and the driver’s license she’d found in Grandfather Thunder’s kitchen drawer. Her gaze lingered on the name. All the years she’d spent in and out of Grandfather Thunder’s house, she’d never heard the name Dory spoken once. It was one she would have remembered. Was he a nephew? Someone not even related? She studied the other names. They were all last names of families at Nixyáawii. This had to be a team from Umatilla.
The clerk sang out, “Welcome to Hamley’s.”
Dela walked over and looked down at the main floor. Molly had arrived. “I’ll be right down,” Dela said, putting the photo back in the plastic sleeve and leaving the book open to that page.
Molly was already picking through a rack of dresses when Dela joined her.
“See anything you like?” she asked, her mind still lingering on the photo.
“This one and this one. What do you think?” Molly held up two dresses. One was a sleeveless denim with a tiered skirt and the other was a flowy, flowered dress with wings for sleeves.
“I like the flowered one for a wedding dress. But the other one could be worn for more things afterward.” Dela wondered if Heath would think she should wear a fancy wedding dress if they married.
“Always practical.” Molly hugged Dela. “I’m going to try them both on and decide which is more comfortable.”
They walked over to the dressing room. Dela stood outside the door holding the flowy dress.
“Would you like to try that on?” The clerk asked.
“No, I’m just holding it for my friend while she tries a different one.” Dela’s gaze drifted to the loft. “Is there a way to learn anything more about a photo I saw up in the album on the table?”
“What was it of?” the clerk asked as Molly stepped out of the room with the denim dress.
“It fits you nice, but I don’t see it as a dress to wear while getting married,” Dela said. Not that she was an expert on such things.
“I do like it.” Molly ran her hands down the front of the garment. “But it is kind of uneventful for the occasion.”
“You could wear a pretty shawl or a cute jacket over the top,” the clerk said.
“Try this one.” Dela handed her friend the other dress.
When Molly closed the door, Dela asked again, “The photo is of the 1984 Indian Relay Race winners.”
“You could probably contact the Roundup Office and see if they keep records from that long ago.” The clerk spun around as the dressing room door clicked.
Molly stepped out wearing the flowy dress and Dela smiled.
“That is the dress for your wedding,” she said.
“I agree,” said the clerk. “You look like a woman ready to take on the world, yet also sexy.”
Molly laughed and said, “Wait until I tell Marty I have a sexy wedding dress.”
Dela laughed until Molly said, “Let’s find a dress for you.”