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Dela started the day like all the others since Paul Winter was killed. She woke, thinking about what she needed to do at work, only to remember, she wasn’t allowed to be there. However, she no longer felt trod upon. She knew Detective Dick wouldn’t be on this homicide after this morning. She looked forward to this afternoon. It was her chance to prove to the Tribal Chief of Police she hadn’t killed anyone since returning to Nixyáawii.
After feeding Mugshot and Jethro, she lifted weights in her workout room and took a shower. Walking down the hall after dressing, she heard someone talking in the living room. Stepping quietly into the weight room, she picked up a three-pound barbell and crept along the hall to the living room.
Just before she stepped out of the hall, she recognized the voice.
Milo Shaffer sat in her recliner, scratching Mugshot under the chin. He glanced up. “When no one answered the front door, I went around back and this fella jumped on the gate, popping it open. I didn’t want him running off, so I coaxed him to the back door and saw it wasn’t locked. We let ourselves in when I heard the pump running and figured you were taking a shower.”
Dela stared at him. These were the most words she’d ever heard him say at one time. But then, he was always with Quinn who liked center stage. “I’m not sure if I should thank you for thinking of my dog, or call the tribals because you came in uninvited.” She crossed her arms and remembered she held the barbell. Setting it on the floor inside the living room, she walked over to one of the side chairs she’d purchased and sat.
“Quinn’s been asked to look into a dirty cop on the reservation, and I’m taking over the Winter homicide.” He pulled out a notepad and pen.
“I’ve told the tribal police and the FBI everything about that day. Do I have to go over it again?” she asked.
Shaffer shook his head. “Tell me what you and Seaver have dug up so far.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Quinn told me you two have been digging around talking to people who won’t talk to us.”
“Do you want coffee or iced tea?” she asked, rising and heading to the kitchen.
“Coffee, please.”
She smiled while making a cup of coffee for the Fed and pouring a glass of iced tea for herself. It was a breakthrough that the Feds were coming to her and Heath for help. One would have assumed the tribal police would have been able to talk to people, but it was clear no one trusted Detective Dick. Dela carried the drinks back into the living room, handed the mug to Shaffer, and returned to her seat. After a long drink of tea, she began telling the FBI agent everything she and Heath knew to this point.
“You two have been busy,” Shaffer said, studying her. “What do you need help with that I can do? It’s obvious no one on the reservation will talk to me. But I can do digging on the computer to fill in blanks.”
“If you could get the reports on Lora Murdoch’s death and her cousin’s,” she rattled off the name, “and also see what you can find out about Levi Murdoch.” She stared into her iced tea.
“Someone else? Maybe Sander?” Shaffer asked.
“As much as I would love to have this be something Sander did, I don’t think he did. The one I have on the list is Daniel Booth. He learned how to cook meth from Winter and was ready to take over. He’s missing. Whether of his own accord or Sander made him vanish, we don’t know.” Dela thought of someone else. “Jacee Bing. She works in surveillance at the casino, is Ina Winter’s cousin, and is Booth’s girlfriend. She didn’t like the victim and according to her she doesn’t like drugs, but she likes the things drug money can buy. She might have wanted her boyfriend to be making more money and took care of someone she hated.” Dela shrugged. “Those are all the people who we have come up with in our questioning.”
“It’s a good list. I’ll let you know what I find and you keep me in the loop of who you talk to and what you learn.” He closed the notepad and stared at her. “Don’t talk to anyone alone. Once word gets out you aren’t the suspect, the real suspect is going to get nervous. If you talk to the wrong person—”
“The suspect,” Dela said.
Shaffer nodded. “Alone, he, or she, may decide you are a threat.”
“Heath and I have been talking to people together.” She glanced at her watch. “Not to rush you off, but I need to grab lunch and go meet with Chief Steele. He wanted me to repeat what I said in my interview with Detective Jones.”
Shaffer stood. “I heard you were being re-interviewed by the tribal police. Something about the whole interview you did with Jones was erased.”
“Jones probably did it the minute the interview was over. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to keep saying I was the only suspect.”
She moved to the door and opened it. “I’m glad to be dropped down on the suspect list.”
Shaffer stopped and stared at her. “What do you mean dropped down? You’re still at the top because of Mrs. Swan’s statement. But we’re following other lines of inquiry as well.”
“If I were you, I’d do the same. But don’t put too much in the old woman’s words. Because you’re going to find, I didn’t kill him.” She closed the door and leaned against it. When was this mess going to be over?
“Come on, let’s grab some grub,” she said to Mugshot and they walked into the kitchen.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Dela sat in the same interview room as before. This time the fifty-something Chief of Police sat across from her. His plump pale face glistened with perspiration while his doughy body stressed the buttons on his uniform. The man smiled at her when she entered the room. His thick lips drew back, revealing small stained teeth. The man clearly ate badly and drank too much coffee. She’d had few dealings with the chief and hoped he was as pleasant as Heath had made him out to be.
“Ms. Alvaro, have a seat.” He pointed to the chair across the table from him. Once she was seated, he continued, “Would you please state your name and occupation for the recording?” His voice was surprisingly high-pitched for such an ample body.
She offered the information and leaned back in the chair, trying not to look nervous or uninterested. She wanted the man to believe her when she told him the truth.
“The reason for re-interviewing this suspect is due to the fact...” He went on to say the original interview had been wiped from the system and he had taken it upon himself to redo the interview.
Dela waited for him to say something about Detective Jones being taken off the case, but he didn’t mention that. Instead, he said, “Tell me what happened the day Paul Winter was killed.”
Feeling as if she’d recited this a thousand times, she started with the phone call from Ina, and this time she mentioned calling Heath and telling him that Winter would probably be calling them about the donkey being stolen.
Chief Steele held up a hand and circled his finger in the air. “Wind back up. You say you called Officer Seaver and told him you’d been in a fight with the victim and he’d be calling us to complain?”
She feared Heath still hadn’t said anything to his boss and here she’d dropped the news. But it was out and she couldn’t take it back. “Yes. He said he had to go to the casino first and then would stop by and talk to Paul. I called him when I was walking the donkey to my house.”
The man’s small, round, green eyes studied her as his thick bottom lip moved in and out. The air grew hotter and stifling. She held his gaze, feeling like she sat in the principal’s office.
He finally asked, “Why haven’t I heard this before?”
She sighed. “I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to get Heath in trouble. And I was afraid if you knew we were friends, you wouldn’t let him work on the case.”
The man poked a thick, stubby finger down on the tabletop. “I’ve known you two were friends since I interviewed him for the job here. I would have taken in anything he said and made my decisions from facts, not friendships. Now I wonder at you keeping this to yourself.” His green eyes felt as if they were poking at her as his finger had the table.
“Ask Heath about his whereabouts. He said, instead of going to the casino he went straight to the Winter residence. And he saw Paul sitting up. Before he could get out and talk to him, Heath received a call about a disturbance, only when he arrived there wasn’t anything happening and no one said they called the police.” She leaned forward. “Which makes me think someone was in the house, watching my fight with Paul, and saw where I put the knife. When they were ready to go out and kill him, Heath arrived. They made a nine-one-one call which lured Heath away and then took the knife I had put in the shed and killed Paul.” Dela stared into the chief’s eyes. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
The man shook his head, jiggling the white jowls under his dimpled chin. “We have an eyewitness that says you killed Winter.”
“An eye witness who has conveniently gone on a vacation.” Dela leaned back and crossed her arms. “I concede she may have seen the fight, but if she had watched us fighting, she would have seen me put the knife in the shed, grab the halter for the donkey, and lead him away. And if she was watching so closely, she would have seen Paul sit up, Heath’s arrival, and the killer stab Paul if she went over and found him dead after I’d been there.”
“How do you know Mrs. Swan is on vacation?” Chief Steele asked.
“Grandfather Thunder told me. He is friends with the husband of one of Mrs. Swan’s friends.”
Steele studied her some more. “Anything else you care to tell me about that day?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I gave you all the information I know.” She returned his gaze, not flinching, wondering what was spinning in his mind.
“This interview ended at...” He recited the time and stared at the video camera in the corner of the room. The light blinked off, and he shifted his attention to her. “I understand you and Officer Seaver spent his days off interviewing people.”
If he knew, there was no sense denying it. “Yes, we talked to people who might have a reason or know someone who had reason to want Paul dead.”
“It is not regulation for an officer to take a suspect along on interviews.” He continued to study her.
“I’m not going to sit around while my reputation, my job, and possibly my life, are in danger. I was trained to take action. I won’t go with Heath when he questions people, but I won’t stand by and wait for the slow process of a murder investigation to clear my name.” She stood. “If I can’t work, I need something to do. And that something is talking to people. Everything I learn I give to Heath or Special Agent Shaffer. I’m not withholding anything from them or you. I want my life back.”
Her hand was on the door when the chief said, “If you interfere, we will have to put you in jail.”
Dela glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not interfering; I’m collecting evidence to find the real killer.” She opened the door, swung to the left to exit the back door of the building, and ran into Jacob Red Bear.
“Hey.” He held her by her upper arms. “What’s up?”
“I just re-interviewed with Chief Steele.” She tipped her head to the room and stepped back out of his grasp.
“I see. Can I buy you a soda?”
She could tell by his tone he wanted to have a conversation with her outside of the police station. “Sure. Mission Market?”
“Yeah. Give me twenty minutes.”
She nodded and walked out to her car. The Public Safety building had never made her anxious before, but she couldn’t shake the feeling the Chief of Police didn’t seem any more friendly toward her than Detective Dick. She backed out of the parking slot and headed to the market. It would be good to talk to a friend after the afternoon she’d had.
