| |
Dela’s gaze shot to Jacob. Had he known about the knife when he’d rode with her to the police station? “But I didn’t stab him. I put the knife in the crack in the wall. If my fingerprints are on the knife, it’s because I took it away from him. Not by using it on the man.”
“You sure it wasn’t self-defense?” Detective Dick accused, his eyes lighting up.
He was trying to get her to say something he could use against her. “No. I didn’t stab him in self-defense. My self-defense move was crushing his balls. I put that knife in the building and never used it on him.”
“We’ll see. I have people at your place looking for proof you stabbed the man.” Detective Dick stood. “You’ll be detained here until your residence has been thoroughly searched.”
Blood whooshed from her head and she felt faint. She didn’t want the police to go through her house. To see the handicapped bars, the crutches, her running prosthesis. To the outside world she wanted to appear whole. Normal. There were few people she allowed into her disabled bubble. There was no way she wanted this jack-hole of a detective knowing her weakness.
The door closed and her gaze flew to Jacob, still standing by the door. He didn’t say a word. She glanced at the light on the video camera. It remained on. Double frickin’ shit! Rage shoved fear out of her head. Action was what settled her nerves and anger better than anything. But in this small room, any action she took would be recorded and Dickhead would take it as her fear of being found the killer.
She breathed in slow and let it out even slower. Oxygen flowed again and her thoughts collected. Once her anger was under control, she began to think clearly. Who would want to set her up for the murder of Paul Winter?
Her first thought was Ina. After all, she had asked Dela to go to her house and said her husband wouldn’t be there. Dela would have never gone after the donkey alone if she had thought Winter was living there. And where the hell was Heath? She hadn’t brought up the fact she’d called him after her confrontation with the victim. She wanted him in on the investigation. He wouldn’t believe she’d kill someone.
Questions. She had so many questions to ask of Heath, the neighbor, Ina. Someone had to have been in the Winter house watching the man attack her and used that as a means to frame her for his murder. But who? And why?
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Dela glanced at the video camera every five to ten minutes. After an hour, the light finally disappeared. Jacob had been replaced with a female officer. Dela didn’t know the woman. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, a little younger than Dela herself.
“Can I get a glass of water?” Dela asked.
The woman stepped out of the room and returned within seconds. She didn’t have a glass or anything. Reading her name tag, Harper, Dela tried to remember if that was the name of a Umatilla family. The woman had a deep bronze complexion, dark hair in a braid down her back, and brown eyes.
The door opened and a hand appeared with a bottle of water.
Officer Harper grasped the bottle, walked across to the table, and set the water in reach of Dela.
“Thank you.” Dela unscrewed the top and drank half the bottle before taking it away from her lips. The room was stifling. She glanced at her watch. She’d now been in this room for over three hours. Raising a stink would only give Detective Dick more reason to think she did it.
She sighed, leaned back in the chair, and studied the officer. “Are you new to the tribal force?”
The woman glanced at the video camera and relaxed her stance. “Yeah. I’ve only been here about a month.”
“On the force or on the reservation?” Dela asked. She didn’t want to make friends with the officer but she was bored and needed something to occupy her mind.
“Both. I’d just received my degree in criminal justice when my husband filled an open teaching position at the Pendleton High School.” Officer Harper leaned against the wall. “I saw there was an opening on the tribal police force and applied. I was shocked when they requested an interview.”
“You must have had something they wanted on the force,” Dela said, keeping an eye on the video camera in case it came on. She didn’t want to say anything, even if it had nothing to do with why she was here. Detective Dick would find a way to mix up her words.
The officer grinned. “It seemed they needed a woman on the force to help with domestic disputes.”
“I’m sure you are good at your job, too.”
The door opened. Jacob stepped into the room. “Detective Jones says you may go, but he’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dela said, standing, taking a moment to move her leg back and forth before walking out into the hallway where she was pretty sure the detective would be hovering to get one more jab in.
A glance at her watch said she’d missed dinner. Popping in on her mom and grabbing something to eat there sounded better than going home, knowing the tribal police had rifled through her belongings. Tomorrow would be soon enough to let everyone at work know she hadn’t killed anyone.
Halfway down the hall, Detective Dick stepped out of an office. “Just because nothing was found at your house, doesn’t mean you didn’t kill the victim.”
She hid the giddiness his words unfurled. She’d known they wouldn’t find anything but many a person had been put in jail over evidence that had been planted. “I will say it again. I did not kill Paul Winter. He was alive when I walked Jethro to my house.”
At the end of the hall, the officer at the desk held out her purse. Dela took it, dug inside for the keys to her car, and walked out the front doors of the building.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
On the drive to her mom’s, Dela tried to call Heath. He either wasn’t answering or was busy. Her evening brightened when she walked into her mom’s house and found Grandfather Thunder sitting at the table eating a piece of apple pie.
“Dela, you didn’t tell me you were coming over.” Her mom placed a plate with pie and ice cream on the table and motioned for her to sit.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment idea.” Dela dug into the treat, savoring the sweet apple and cinnamon flavor. Eating one of her mom’s pies was a bonus. Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the name. Heath.
Where are you?
Mom’s.
See you in a few.
She had hoped to break the news she was a suspect in a murder to her mom easily. Now she needed to do it before Heath arrived. “Heath is headed over here.”
“Oh, good. He’ll get a piece of warm pie, too.” Her mom rose from her seat at the table to get another plate with a slice of pie.
When her mom had sat back down, Dela set her fork down. She glanced at her mom, over to Grandfather Thunder, and back to her mom. “I’ve been at the police station for five hours while they questioned me and searched my house.”
Mom’s fork clattered on her plate. “Why would they do that?”
“Remember last fall when I stopped a man from killing his wife?” She glanced at Grandfather Thunder. He nodded.
“What does that have to do with the police searching your house?” Mom asked.
“The woman called me this morning and asked if I could take in the donkey that was left behind when she and her son left. Mugshot and I always stop and visit with the donkey on our jog. Anyway, she told me her husband wasn’t at their home and asked if I would get the donkey and keep him.” She picked up the cup of coffee her mom had placed in front of Dela’s plate and swallowed. Two sets of eyes watched her, with the same worry and caring they had her whole life.
“There wasn’t a car in the driveway.” She went on to relay what had happened just as she had to Detective Dick several hours before. “When I left with the donkey, Paul Winter was alive and clutching his crotch. The knife was stuck in a crack in the wall.”
“Someone used your trip to get the donkey to get away with murder,” Grandfather Thunder said.
Dela settled her gaze on the older man who had been the only grandfather she’d known. And he wasn’t blood-related.
A knock on the door sent her mom out of the kitchen.
“Who would want Paul Winter dead?” Dela asked the elderly Umatilla man raising a fork of pie and melting ice cream to his mouth.
“There are many. He not only beat his wife, but he also made his money from illegal activities.”
Heath entered the room, walking straight to Dela and crouching beside her chair. “Are you okay?”
She stared into his familiar brown eyes. Instead of the merriment they usually held, there was concern. Dela nodded. “I know I didn’t kill him. He was alive when I left.”
Heath nodded. “I went over there as soon as you called me instead of going to the casino. All I did was drive by and see he was sitting up when a call came and I headed off to check on it.”
Dela sat up straighter. “Did you tell Detective Dick you were there and saw the man was alive?”
Heath ducked his head, dropping eye contact. “The call I received was bogus. I got there and nothing had happened. That’s when I received the call about a possible body at the Winter residence. As soon as I saw the body with a knife in his chest, I knew the only way I could stay on the case and help prove your innocence was to keep quiet about your call to me.”
Dela started to protest.
“Think about it. If Detective Jones knew you had called me and I vouched that the man was alive, he would say we did that to give you an alibi.”
Remembering how hard Dickhead had wanted to catch her up in anything that would make her the killer, she slowly nodded her head. “Do you know who searched my house?” Her gaze held his. He knew she was private about her disability.
He grinned. “A newbie and me. I made the new guy stand outside while I checked the house for clothing with blood.”
She studied him. “You really searched the house?”
Heath shrugged. “I had to take as much time as it would take to search, so I just walked from room to room opening drawers and moving things to take up time.” He peered into her eyes. “Even though I know the truth, I had to do my job.”
“Thank you for being the one to do the search.” She sighed. “I didn’t want Detective Dick to see how I live.”
Heath rose and sat at the table where Mom had placed the other plate of pie and a cup of coffee.
“So, what happens now?” Mom asked.
“We’ll start digging into Paul Winter’s life and see if we can come up with anyone who had a grudge.” Heath dug into his pie. “Mmmm, this is good. Thanks, Mrs. Belden.”
Her mom’s cheeks flushed. “You’re welcome, Heath. This brings back memories of when you two were in school.”
Dela had been getting a lot of this kind of talk ever since Heath moved back. Her mom was excited that he was back in Dela’s life. However, Dela was still trying to figure out her feelings for the man her high school sweetheart had become.
Grandfather Thunder cleared his throat. “You might look into the people Paul was making meth for.”
