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The gate to the fence around the sweat lodge was locked. Could that be why the police didn’t have up crime tape? Shandra walked to the right of the gate, following the outside of the privacy fence. She noted the small pieces of trash that must have blown up against the base of the fencing since it was installed. They were all dirty or wrinkled from having been rained on. There didn’t seem to be anything new. She’d hoped whoever killed Nelly had waited and in doing so, left behind evidence.
She’d walked the perimeter when a plume of dust appeared on the road from the community center to the sweat lodge. Glancing up, she spotted Velma’s car. The woman was going to be disappointed when they couldn’t even get through the gate.
The car stopped. Velma eased her husky six feet out of the older model luxury car. “I expected to find you inside,” she said, marching up to Shandra.
“The gate’s locked.” Shandra pointed to the padlock and chain.
Velma dug into her purse and pulled out two paper clips that had been bent in different ways. “I’ve had to get into and out of places where no one wanted me a few times in my life.” She walked up to the padlocked gate and shoved the ends of the clips into the lock. With the finesse Shandra used when forming her clay vases, Velma jiggled and cajoled the lock.
A smile spread across her face as the lock sprung open. The smile was as quick to disappear when Shandra reached out to open the gate. “You do know until this area is cleansed anyone who enters could be asking for bad fortune to follow them?”
“This is the only way I know to help discover who killed Nelly. I need to see the inside and see if the police missed anything when looking for evidence.” Shandra slipped through the gate. Her gaze landed on the bloody spot where Nelly had lain.
“Moses said the gate was open when he found her. But did he mean open or unlocked?” She glanced over her shoulder at Velma. She stood just inside the gate, not moving.
“He didn’t say which. Why?”
“If the gate were closed and unlocked why would Nelly come in here unless someone had asked her to meet them here. Moses said it isn’t always locked. I would think that would leave the community center open to get sued if anyone were hurt on the premises.”
“No one here would think of that. If it were a Federal building or someone other than an Indian who owned the place, then they would think, I can get money. But not our own. We know pockets are empty.” Velma shrugged. “Even though we are supposed to schedule the use of the sweat lodge through the community center, there are many elders who use it when they feel like it.” She sniffed. “And I’ve heard some of the young people have used it to meet up, if you know what I mean.”
Shandra had a good idea she knew what Velma meant. Had Nelly set up an assignation here before coming to accept her scholarship? But with who? Tripp had turned her down, or so he said. Could he have had one last fling with her and then silenced her? And what about the way she was killed?
She hoped Ryan would be able to access the information the police gathered.
The sound of dirty brakes screeching caught her attention. “Is someone coming?”
Velma spun around and peered out through the privacy slats. “Looks like a fed and Logan.” She finally left the gate, hurrying across the space between them. “We have to hide. They’ll take one look at that lock and know we picked it to get in here.”
“Your car is parked out there. Logan knows it by sight. It will make us look guilty if we hide.” Shandra put up a braver front than she felt. Ryan had told her to stay out of things and now she was going to be caught by an FBI agent and a tribal officer she respected. But she had the feeling he wouldn’t respect her as much when he found her at his crime scene.
The gate rattled and opened.
A tall, broad shouldered man with a brown, bald head, narrowed eyes, and disapproving grimace on his face, walked through the gate followed by Logan.
“Shandra and Velma, what are you doing in here? This is a crime scene, off limits and locked.” Logan held up the lock. “Was locked. Which one of you is the lock picker?”
Shandra didn’t want her aunt to get in trouble. She lived on the reservation, Shandra was just visiting. “I did. I wanted to—”
The FBI agent held up his hand to stop her. “You do know this is a federal case? You could be thrown in jail for tampering with evidence.”
She took a step toward the man. “I-we didn’t tamper with anything. We’re just looking.”
He motioned with his hand. “You’re walking around, leaving footprints.”
“So did Logan,” she motioned to the police officer, “...the EMTs, the medical examiner, and any other officers who were here collecting evidence.”
Logan shook his head as if to say she needed to stop speaking.
“This is federal jurisdiction. Who are you?” The man pulled out what she presumed was his cell phone.
“Shandra Higheagle.”
“She’s just visiting, it’s my fault,” Velma chimed in.
“And you are?” the FBI agent asked.
“Velma Wilbur, Shandra’s aunt and member of one of the oldest families on this reservation.” She puffed out her chest and stood taller, making her an inch taller than the man questioning her.
The agent narrowed his eyes. “You can’t sway me with who you are related to. You have both violated a sealed off area.” He whipped his gaze to Shandra. “You two were found with the body by Officer Ryder. Did you come back for the murder weapon?”
While she was glad to see the man was diligent with his desire to work the murder, she didn’t like him immediately thinking she and Velma were suspects. “We didn’t come for the weapon. I wanted to get a better look around and try to figure out what happened. Nelly had an appointment to meet with Velma and I in the community center. We were worried about her when she didn’t show, then the groundskeeper came to the office and said he’d found her. We came down to see if we could help.”
“That was yesterday, why are you here today?” the agent asked.
“To make sense of it all.” She wasn’t going to give him any more information than that.
Logan’s eyebrows rose.
“You need to leave.” The agent held the gate open.
Velma glanced at her. Shandra nodded, and they marched out of the enclosure. She didn’t like that they had been banned from the one place that might give them clues.
“Where can we find Duke Waters?” Shandra asked Velma when they were both settled in the car.
Her aunt’s head spun so fast, Shandra heard her neck pop. “Duke Waters? Why would you want to see that no good scum ball?”
“To ask him what he plans to do about Fawn. I don’t want Aunt Jo getting attached and have the man decide he does want to play daddy.” She knew playing on her aunt’s emotions would get more help out of Velma than telling her she wanted to ask him about Nelly’s involvement with his drug dealing. She’d planned to wait to contact him until Ryan arrived, but he was the only other reasonable person who would have wanted Nelly dead, besides Tripp.
“I’m not sure where he hangs out during the day, but we both know someone who might know.” She backed the car up and headed out to the highway.
“Who?”
“Billy Crow.”
“I thought he was an alcoholic who didn’t do drugs.” She remembered the young man she’d wheedled information out of when Coop was charged with a murder.
“He also knows everything that happens on the reservation because everyone believes he is a drunk and won’t remember what he sees and hears.” Velma eased off the highway and into Nespelem. Within minutes she parked in the Ketch Pen parking lot. For early afternoon there were quite a few vehicles.
Velma groaned.
“What? Isn’t he here?” Shandra studied the vehicles trying to remember what his pickup had looked like.
“Billy’s here. So is Jessie.”
Shandra did an internal groan as well. Jessie Lawyer had been infatuated with Shandra’s father, tried to seduce her uncle, and was the biggest lush she’d ever met. “Well, we can hope she is on the opposite side of the room as Billy.”
They slipped out of the car, walked to the building, and pushed the door open.
Shandra stood just inside the door a few seconds, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim interior after the bright sunlight. The place hadn’t changed. Same posters and photographs on the walls. Her gaze went straight to the photo of her dad riding a bucking horse. The lights hanging over the pool tables and the one over the bar gave out the most lighting in the place.
“We should go home and go back to bed,” Velma said at her shoulder.
“Why?”
“This isn’t our day. We get caught by the police and now this.” She pointed.
Shandra followed the length of Velma’s arm and beyond her finger to Jessie and Billy sitting at a table together.
This time she groaned outwardly and walked to the table.
Billy glanced up. He smiled but it wasn’t one of recognition, just a happy, drunken welcome.
Jessie narrowed her eyes. “I know you.”
Shandra took the seat next to Billy, leaving Velma to sit beside Jessie. “I was hoping you could help me with something,” she said to Billy.
“Me? What would I know?” He downed the last of the beer in his mug.
She motioned for the waitress to bring him another. “I’m trying to find Duke Waters.”
“What the hell you looking for him for?” Jessie shrieked. “He’s my man, you keep your hands off him.”
Shandra leaned back from the woman’s spittle and red angry eyes. “I only want to ask him some questions. Are you and Duke friends?”
“He’s been in my bed.”
“Who hasn’t?” Velma said under her breath.
“What? What did you say you old battle axe?” Jessie turned her angry eyes on Velma.
“Battle Axe, you’re older than me and much too worn to say you slept with a younger man,” Velma leaned toward the drunk woman, making her lean back and sputter.
Shandra put her hand on Velma’s arm, hoping she understood to relax. “I just want to know how to contact Duke to ask him two questions.” She turned her attention on Billy.
“He’s been hanging out at the Twelve Tribes Casino in Omak. Found a new...” he shot a glance at Jessie, “he’s been working out of there lately.”
“Duke’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” Jessie said.
“What about your husband? Shouldn’t he be the best thing?” Velma asked.
Jessie stared at her wide-eyed. “Husband?”
“Frank Lawyer, the man you married twenty years ago.” Velma glared at the woman.
“He’s no husband. He won’t take me to bed.” Jessie raised her glass of beer as if in a toast.
Shandra waited for the waitress to bring over the beer. She paid for it and stood. “Thank you, Billy. Good seeing you again, Jessie.”
The woman stared at her as if trying to remember.
Velma rose out of her chair and headed for the door. Outside, she asked, “We’re not going to the casino, are we?”
“No. I’ll go with Ryan on Saturday. Do you believe Jessie that she slept with Duke?”
“If that man thought he could get her hooked on his product, I wouldn’t doubt it.” Velma slid in behind the wheel of her car. “I’m taking you to Jo’s. I’m tired of all these surprises.”
Shandra laughed and buckled her seat belt. “You didn’t see all of this coming?”
“No.” Velma glanced her way as she backed out of the parking lot. “What has your grandmother said about this?”
“Nothing. She came to me when I was dancing this morning, but she basically refused to show me anything.” Shandra turned slightly in the seat and studied her aunt. “Do you think she’s mad at me for trying to solve Nelly’s murder?”
“No. She would want justice. Maybe she was trying to tell you something else.” Velma pulled the car out onto the highway.
Shandra closed her eyes and tried to remember what she’d seen. Nothing came to her.