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Standing in the hall with Trace’s back to the office door, Dela began discussing what she hadn’t wanted to say in front of Sander. “We know you were Lora Murdoch’s boyfriend. Did you also do drugs with her?”
The man dropped his crossed arms to his side and stared at her. “What the hell is this about?”
“We believe Lora’s death has something to do with Paul Winter’s death,” Heath said.
“I thought you wanted to talk about Levi.” Trace studied them both.
“We do. We think Levi discovered where Lora was getting her drugs and after her death decided to take revenge,” Dela said.
“You think Levi killed Paul?” Trace shook his head and walked a few steps away, then back. “No way. Not the guy I knew in high school. He was the local evangelist. That’s what everyone called him the way he preached about how drugs and alcohol would destroy us.”
“Well, look where it got Lora.” Dela shifted her weight onto her left foot.
Trace ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. “She was a wild child. There wasn’t a drug in this corner of the state that she didn’t try once.” He made a derisive snort. “And she slept with anyone who was willing. That’s why I left her. She didn’t want to be with one person. She wanted to experience every Tom, Dick, and Jane. And not just people but different ways. It was like there was a demon in her that couldn’t get enough of everything that would give her a high.” He sighed. “She was sulky and enjoyed fighting when she was in between highs. Looking back, I don’t know why I stayed with her as long as I did. I think I felt sorry for her, and Levi had hoped I could get her to like me and not the drugs and different partners.”
“We were told Lora always had someone with her when she did drugs. Is that true?” Heath asked.
“Yeah, she was afraid of dying alone. She always said if this high was her last she didn’t want to be by herself. She talked about how her dad was alone in the car when it crashed and her mom had been alone when she took her life. Lora didn’t want to be like them. She wanted to die holding someone’s hand.”
Heath flipped back several pages in his notepad and said, “Yet, the police report said she was alone when she took the overdose that killed her. That she was found by her grandmother in her own bed.”
“No. That can’t be right. Lora never used in her grandmother’s house. She’d do it at parties or at a friend’s house. She never wanted her grandmother to see her high. If it took her a couple days to get herself back together, she’d stay away. Have her friend call and say she was staying longer.”
“Did she shoot up across the street at Paul’s?” Heath asked.
Trace shook his head. “No. He didn’t sell or give the stuff away. He made it strictly to sell to Mr. Sander.” A disgusted expression marred his face. “I know that a tribal officer raided where she was shooting up once and picked her up.”
“She was never charged with anything,” Heath said.
“That’s because she had sex with him and he let her off. She commented once that he’d been rough but she’d do him again if it kept her out of jail.” Sadness drooped the man’s face.
“How did she pay for the drugs? As far as I can tell she didn’t have a job.” Dela hadn’t heard anyone say anything about where she worked.
“She did odd jobs. Cleaning houses, waitressing, anything she could pick up. If she was needing a hit and didn’t have the money, she worked out other ways of paying for it.” Trace opened and closed his fists. “I wanted to help her, but she didn’t want it. Levi and I got into fights about that. He was always trying to save her. But until she wanted to be saved, she wasn’t about to leave that life behind.”
“I find it ironic that you are working for one of the men who helped feed Lora’s habit and many other addicts,” Dela said.
“I started working for him as a carpenter. When he offered me this job with double the pay, I jumped on it. I figure a year and he’ll realize the threat was a crank and I’ll be demoted to carpenter again. In the meantime, that extra money will put me closer to getting a house built so I can get married.”
“You don’t have any idea who sent your boss and Paul the notes?” Heath asked.
“I never saw the notes, and Mr. Sander never talks about them, other than to say he received them and wanted protection.”
“Do you think Levi could have sent them?” Dela asked.
Trace stared at her. “Why?”
“Because he knows where the meth came from that his sister overdosed on.” Dela watched as Trace studied her and Heath.
“How would he know?”
She shrugged. “Process of elimination. Talking to people. He’s been talking to you. Did you tell him who his sister had been buying from before her death?”
“We talked about the good times before Lora got so crazy about using. But I didn’t have anything to tell him about lately. I’d separated myself from her five years ago. It hurt to watch her.” The sadness washed across his features again.
He had loved the woman who was bent on destroying herself.
“Did she ever give you a clue to the tribal officer who had sex with her instead of filing charges?” Heath asked.
“Not really. Only that he came around another time with something for her to get her to have sex with him again.”
“And did she?” Dela asked.
“Yeah. It was a free high. And double the excitement since it was with a cop while she was high.” He threw his hand out as if giving up on the whole thing. “She lived for a high. Any kind and she didn’t care who she hurt in getting it.”
“If you hear from Levi, please give me a call. We only want to talk to him and take him to his grandmother.” Heath handed the bodyguard his card.
As they walked down the hall, Dela shuddered. “I feel like I need a shower.”
Heath nodded and was quiet all the way out to his truck.
“What did he say that has you thinking so hard?” Dela asked when they were seated in the truck and Heath turned the key in the ignition.
“There is only one tribal policeman I can think of who had access to all the meth he could want and who would stoop to having sex with an addict.” He glanced over at her.
“Dickhead. Do you think he was with Lora when she died? He could have waited for the grandmother to leave and then put Lora in her bed.” Dela thought about that. “And it’s across the street from Paul. He could have seen Dickhead carrying Lora into the house and when he heard about her overdose, he could have blackmailed Dickhead.”
“There could be any number of reasons Jones killed Paul. For all we know, he wanted to take over selling meth and push Sander out of business. He could have been working with Daniel Booth to start up their own production chain. With Paul gone and Booth hiding, for now, it puts Sander low in product.” Heath drove back toward the reservation.
“We still haven’t ruled out Levi. He could have killed Paul in revenge over his sister’s death.” Dela leaned back in her seat. They had learned a lot today, but none of it really put them any closer to presenting new evidence about the stabbing of Paul Winter.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
After feeding the animals and petting them, Dela made a salad. Heath had dropped her off to head over and help Rosie and Daisy. He figured with Jacob watching down the road, she’d be safe for a couple of hours. She smiled. He had such a soft heart and loyalty to everyone who lived here. It had surprised her when she’d learned he’d moved away from Nixyáawii. It was his home and his heart. But she also understood the need to find out more about a man that he hadn’t known who carried half of his DNA.
Dela understood the need to know. As she ate her salad, she opened the photo on her phone and stared at the license she’d found in Grandfather Thunder’s kitchen drawer. What was the mystery behind him? Why did she see herself when she looked into his face? Who was he and why did Grandfather Thunder have the wallet and license?
Mugshot stood at the door, wanting out. His large tail fanned a cool breeze across the room.
“Okay, you go play with Jethro while I take a long soak.” Dela let the dog out, locked the door, and carried her dishes to the sink. When the dishes were cleaned and sitting in the drainer, she made sure the front door was locked and walked down the hall. In the master bath, she started the water running into the soaker tub that sat next to her walk-in shower and returned to the bedroom to retrieve a set of sweats. It was still early to be sitting around in her pajamas if someone came by. With all that had been going on lately, her house had become a magnet for friends and enemies.
Taking her prosthesis off, she thought about how Heath’s touch had relaxed her earlier and eased the phantom pains away. She’d tell her doctor about it on her next trip to the VA to have her stump checked.
Using her crutches, she swung into the bathroom and holding onto the handicapped bars, lowered herself into the bubbles and hot water. She sighed and relaxed back against the tub, closing her eyes.
Mugshot’s frantic barking, jerked her eyelids up. Her muscles tensed. He continued barking and Jethro’s braying joined in. Something was wrong.
She grabbed the bar, pulled her body up, tucked her full leg underneath her, and stood on one foot. Sitting on the side of the tub, she pulled on the sweatshirt and pants. That’s when she realized the animals weren’t making noise any longer.
Her heart jumped into her throat, clogging her breathing. No! If someone hurt her animals, she’d kill them. The sound of glass breaking dropped her to the floor. She crawled on her hands and knees to the bedside table and took out her Beretta M-9. Easing the cartridge into the handle to minimize the click, she kept her gaze on the closed bedroom door. She hadn’t locked the door, believing the outer doors were enough with Jacob outside watching.
Jacob! Would he show up to help or had whoever was walking down the hall hurt him?
Dela shifted, sitting with her back between the corner of the wall and the bedside table. She used the bed to cradle her hands clutching the weapon. All she had to do when the person opened the door was raise her hands enough to get a shot at his heart and pull the trigger. She’d killed before and always to save her or a fellow soldier.
The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened.
“You must be in here. I didn’t find you in any other room.”
Her stomach churned. It was Dickhead and he held a weapon as well. She raised her hands.
“Ahh, I should have known you’d be waiting. But I didn’t think you’d be cowering in the corner. You talk big, but I guess you’re a coward at heart, just like your daddy.”
The rush of blood from the adrenaline of staying alive almost drowned out his words. But she heard daddy. “What did you say?”
He grinned that slimy sneer she always wanted to slap off his face. “You don’t know about your daddy?” He waved a hand. “Why don’t you get on up from there and I’ll tell you about him.”
Her mind spun. Did she trust what this man said? Not really. And there was no way she was going to stand up and give him a bigger target to put a bullet in, not to mention she couldn’t stand on one leg without aid.
“I’m not getting up. I suggest you leave before I put a bullet in you for trespassing.” She used her best bossy voice.
He laughed. “If I leave here, I’ll just go over and give your mother something she hasn’t had in a long time.” He thrust his hips three times.
Dela held the bile down by swallowing convulsively. “You go near my mom and I’ll make sure you get to hang out with some lusty prisoners.” Her arms were getting tired. It had been a while since she’d had to hold her weapon at the ready for so long.
He laughed. “All I have to do is pull this trigger and say that you called me over here to confess then turned your gun on me. I’ll get my job back, you’ll be gone, and I’ll ruin Seaver. Not to mention, I get the satisfaction of knowing you died without learning the truth.”
“The truth about what?” Was he talking about her father or the murder of Paul Winter?
Dickhead held up a hand and tossed a mugshot photo on her bed. “How do you think I found that?”
She didn’t take her gaze off Dickhead.
He laughed. “You didn’t know your old man was in jail? Someone didn’t want you to know who he was.” He cocked his head. “Your mother? Or was it Mr. Know-it-all Silas Thunder? Interesting. Why wouldn’t they tell you about this man? The man who gave you life.”
She glanced down at the photo on the bed. It was the same man as the photo on her phone.
A movement caused her years of training to kick in. She raised the weapon and pulled the trigger, putting three rounds into the chest of the man lunging at her.
