Blood Ties (15 page)

ursday.

I wondered where she’d stashed Kiyah that night.

Had she been in that trailer listening to her mother’s drunken rantings? Or had Leanne left her alone again? I pored over the report but John hadn’t made mention of a child. How could she possibly justify leaving a six-year old kid home alone?

Leanne Dobrowski epitomized white trash. Sober, she wasn’t half-bad, but add alcohol and men, and Kiyah ceased to exist. Leanne excused her behavior because of the stresses of single parenthood. She claimed she deserved to cut loose 152

on occasion. But the occasional nights of partying turned into entire drunken weekends. People wandered in and out of the house at all hours, lately not restricted to Saturdays and Sundays. I’ve got nothing against the choices an adult makes except when it adversely aff ects a child.

It

aff ects Kiyah. For two years we’ve been pals, and the sweetness I cherish in her is rapidly disappearing. Her innocence has been replaced by skepticism, her childlike joy held in reserve. Am I drawn to her because of some latent mothering gene? Or because she’s part Lakota, like my brother Ben? Some things are better left unanalyzed. I love her and she simply accepts it.

On weekends she sneaks over for cookies. We color pictures and watch silly videos. She fi lls the tub with bubbles and emerges pink and clean. Sometimes it’s her only bath for the week. Leanne doesn’t bother with details like clean clothes, or nutritious meals. I do, even while knowing that someday Kiyah will break my heart.

At eight o’clock the Sheriff approached my desk. Without preamble he asked, “Who gave you the fat lip?”

Unconsciously, my tongue darted over the swollen skin. “Nobody you know. Why?”

“Well, that coupled with the fact you slept here last night makes me wonder.” Th

e chair nearly groaned when

his solid muscle frame dropped down into the plastic seat.

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you wouldn’t let that fella you’re seeing use you as a warm up, would ya?”

153

“No.” I hid my surprise at his concern. “Actually, it happened at the bar last night.”

“A bar fi ght at Dusty’s?” He frowned at the stack of papers on my desk. “I didn’t hear anything about it.”

“Th

at’s because I was at Fat Bob’s.”

One black eyebrow winged up. “Fat Bob’s? Th e biker

bar? What the hell were you doing in that rat hole?”

I

fi ddled with my slim Bic pen wishing it were the world’s longest cigarette. Waving it around, a la Bette Davis might make it easier to evade. God. Maybe I
was
watching too many hours of “American Movie Classics.”

“Look. You’re going to fi nd out sooner or later.”

His pupils narrowed to fi ne points. “Find out what?”

“Th

at Kevin had been hired to fi nd that girl.”

“Th

e one they found fl oating in the creek last week?”

“Yeah. He asked for my help and I agreed to lend a hand.”

“Before or after they found her?”

“After.”

He considered my answer. “Does Rapid City PD know about Kevin’s connections to the case?”

“I assume so. Don’t they know about most everything?”

“Yeah. Why did Kevin ask you?”

Sheriff Richards didn’t approve of my moonlighting gig. Although there were confl icts of interests between the private and the public sectors, no law said I couldn’t do both. Still, I’d never lied to him about anything involving 154

my work with Kevin, nor did I use my access to privileged information to benefi t Kevin’s business. But, if the Sheriff found out about my involvement from anyone besides me, I’d be seriously screwed. I’d been warned before and his threats were never idle.

“Because Kevin and I went to school with the girl’s mother.”

“Th

is case isn’t somehow tied to your brother’s?”

“No. But you know I can’t get into the details.” I smiled amiably. “Client privilege and all that crap.”

He dry-washed the thick black whiskers on his chin.

“Did Kevin consider this might not be the easiest situation for you to deal with?”

My mouth automatically opened to protest, but was stopped by the combination of his strange hesitation and enormous palm in front of my face.

“Ben’s case eats at you, Julie. I see it everyday. Doesn’t this make it worse, to bring back all your unanswered questions?”

Ben’s case did gnaw at me until my insides were raw.

“Yes,” I admitted, “but Ben’s murder is always there, the questions never go away. Samantha Friel left people behind that have those same questions. Th

ey deserve to know the

truth. If we fi nd it, maybe then they’ll fi nd peace.”

“Will their peace off er you any?”

I stared at the uncharacteristic kindness softening his normally harsh features. Th

e lump in my throat was

155

diffi

cult to swallow without the benefi t of salty tears, but somehow I managed. “I don’t know.”

“Th

ink about it. And remember what I said to you from the beginning. Don’t go messing in something that’ll make a mess for this offi

ce. You’re a good worker, but no

one is irreplaceable.” He stood, turned on his heel, and disappeared into his offi

ce.

It’d taken him longer to get to the point than I’d imagined, but it was crystal clear nonetheless.

After my shift ended, I stopped at the Kum-n-Go for a six-pack. God, I love small communities. No one thought it odd when I fl ipped through magazines, checked the expiration date on the chip dip in the dairy case, and chatted with Melinda, the weekend clerk, about the escapades of her twelve cats.

Yeah, I was stalling. Part of me didn’t want to go home and fi nd out if Ray darkened my doorstep. As fl ippant and cool as I imagined myself, it was never easy ending an intimate relationship. And it was way past time to make the break with Ray.

Ray’s truck wasn’t parked in my driveway, unless he’d gone incognito and was currently cruising around in a rusted out Chrysler K car sporting Pennington County plates. My gaze narrowed to the two small fi gures sitting on my steps. Meredith Friel. And Kiyah. Although I didn’t believe little bitty Meredith was capable of killing her sister, I didn’t know her. Hence, I didn’t trust her, especially 156

not with Kiyah.

Kiyah giggled. Strange, that Kiyah didn’t seem to have a problem trusting Meredith, and Kiyah was pretty tight-fi sted with her trust.

Brown bag clutched in one hand, I headed up the steps.

Meredith spoke fi rst. “I hope you don’t mind. When you said I could contact you anytime . . .” She glanced away with that sheepish, embarrassed look teenaged girls do so well.

“No.

Th

at’s fi ne. I see you’ve met my pal, Kiyah.” I smiled at Kiyah, ruffl

ed the greasy hair that hadn’t been

close to a bottle of shampoo in several days. “Hey, Yippee Ki-yi-ay, whatcha doin’?”

Kiyah stood, eagerly banding her thin arms around my middle. She backed off so quickly I wondered if I imagined her spontaneous hug. “Momma sent me outside to play. But I came over to wait for you.”

Pleased as I was that Kiyah would rather be with me, I knew it wasn’t normal. And I wanted normal for her: riding bikes with neighborhood kids, a best friend, and weekends packed with birthday and slumber parties.

But mostly I wanted someone to give a shit whether or not she was lonely. Or hanging with a thirty-four year old woman with problems of her own. Someday all these questions would have answers, but not today. I smiled again and extracted a can. “You wanna go grab a couple of sodas for you and Meredith?”

157

Kiyah’s chin dropped to her chest and she shuffl ed her

feet. Her dirty, bare feet. Th

e sour taste in my mouth was

not entirely attributed to the yeasty tang of beer.

“I’m not thirsty, but can I watch
Dexter’s Lab
?”

“Sure.”

She showed her toothless grin and raced inside.

Meredith faced me. “You don’t lock your doors?”

“Nothing here worth stealing. Besides, everyone knows I work for the sheriff .”

“You work for the sheriff ?” Her skin went milk pale.

“But . . . but I thought you worked for Mr. Wells?”

“Only when he asks or I’m short on cash. Public servants are notoriously underpaid. Why?”

“No

reason.”

I withdrew my cigarettes and lighter and fi red one up.

Meredith pulled a pack of Virginia Slims from her backpack-sized purse. “Th

ank God,” she said after exhaling

with gusto. “I was afraid you were one of those crusading nonsmokers.”

Apparently my snort of disgust was an adequate enough answer, and for a while we smoked in peace.

“Don’t suppose I could have one of those?” She pointed to my open Coors.

“Afraid

not.”

She sighed. “You wonder why I’m here, don’t you?”

“Th

e thought had crossed my mind.”

Her intense gaze landed on my split lip and the 158

kaleidoscope explosion of black, blue, purple, and green under my chin. “Did Dick do that?”

I kept cool, wondering how she knew about my run-in with her father. I considered lifting my shirt and showcasing the trio of bruises he’d gifted my ribs, but decided she’d probably bolt. Th

inking your father is a monster is

entirely diff erent than having the hard, cold facts laid bare before you.

I

shrugged.

“Dick called Tony this morning. I overheard your name and Fat Bob’s and, well, I don’t have to be a detective to fi gure it out.” She peered at me curiously. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.

Doesn’t

matter.”

“Sure it does. Th

at means you found out something.”

Her earnest faith made me wish I had information that would bring a sparkle to her serious brown eyes.

“Meredith, why
are
you here?”

Switching her gaze to the tip of her cigarette, she looked like a younger version of Shelley. “I don’t know,”

she said. “Feeling guilty probably.”

“Why?”

“Because of that.” She glanced at my mouth. “Knowing Dick I’m sure there’s more you’re not showing me. Or telling me.”

It was hard letting her struggle, but I did it anyway.

“But I understand, because I wasn’t completely honest 159

with you guys last night,” she said after a time.

I popped the top on another can. “I fi gured.”

She genuinely seemed surprised. “You did?”

“Yeah, but what I can’t fi gure out is why. We’re the good guys, Meredith.”

“I know. But I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

“Me

specifi cally?”

“No.” She inhaled and blew smoke out the side of her mouth. “Mr. Wells.”

I didn’t comment. Trust is two-way. “You should understand I won’t keep any information from him. So, if you’re not sure you should tell me whatever it is you’ve driven twenty miles to get off your chest, then don’t.”

She gaped for a split second but composure settled over her features, giving the appearance of age beyond her years. “I didn’t trust him because David hired him.”

“Refresh my memory,” I said casually, savoring the cold brew. “Didn’t you tell us last night that you didn’t think David killed Samantha?”

“I don’t believe he killed her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think he wasn’t somehow indirectly involved in her death.”

My pulse leapt, but I kept my face noncommittal as I steadily smoked and drank. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” Meredith fl attened the cigarette butt under the boot heel of her black Skechers. “I lied. Not only to you guys, but to the Rapid City cops, Dick, and Shelley. Everyone.”

160

“Why?”

“Sam asked me to.”

Th

e dry air fi lled with the uneasy promise of things I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear. “Was this a little white lie?”

“No. It’s a whopper of a lie.” She faced me and dropped the bomb. “I know
exactly
where Sam spent those last two weeks.”

My mouth did one of those cartoonish drops to the fl oor.

I was pretty sure my eyes bugged out. “
What
did you say?”

Meredith’s smug smile was the fi rst true sign of her age. “You heard me. I know where Sam was hiding.”

“Where?”

“At my Grandma Rose’s house.”

Th

ank God she didn’t drag out her answer to build the drama. I exhaled in a whoosh, unaware I’d trapped air in my lungs. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Like I said, Sam told me not to. Grandma spends winters in Arizona. Sam had a key and crashed there.”

“Didn’t your Grandma realize someone had been staying there when she came back for Sam’s funeral?”

Meredith’s feathery hair brushed her thighs in a sad shake of her head. “She didn’t come back for the funeral.

She’d just had some kind of hip replacement surgery and 162

couldn’t travel.”

Little details bored a hole in my brain. “Sam never checked into a motel up on East North, did she?”

“No.” She had the grace to look guilty. “She told David that so he wouldn’t know where she was.”

“Why? If they were . . .”

“Whatever they once were, something changed and Sam didn’t trust him. Happened right after David’s father came to see her, and right before Dick kicked her out.”

Seemed old Chuck had been skulking around. But why?

“When was Charles LaChance at your house?”

“Before you ask what they talked about, I’ll tell you I don’t know. I really don’t. Th

ey stayed outside.”

By the haunted expression on her face I knew she wasn’t withholding anything else this time around. “Can you guess?”

“I assumed he wanted her to break up with David because David had spilled the details about Shelley’s rape. He didn’t want them getting serious. Or, for Sam to get knocked up.” An angry sneer tilted the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, I looked out the window when the yelling started. David’s dad got right in her face and then he left.”

“What happened after he left?”