Read Death Along the Spirit Road Online
Authors: C. M. Wendelboe
Death Along the Spirit Road (23 page)
“People who worked here before me said Jason was almost giddy after his parents died. People here chalked it up to the stress of losing both parents at once. Jason’s success and the power of the company made him intoxicated on his own ego. But each time a project came up short of his expectation, he’d be devastated and despondent for weeks. I know he placed a lot of store in old artifacts, in things that he could call upon for luck. I can see Jason praying to his collection just to get himself back on track. Keep himself from wandering.”
Manny’s own mind wandered off track as he took in the beauty of the office, and especially the beauty in front of him. He took in her primrose perfume that suggested springtime, took in her flawless makeup, took in the way she carried herself as she spoke. He found himself uncharacteristically daydreaming. And got caught—
“What’s that?”
“Is there anything else you wish to know?” she repeated.
“What about Jason’s associates? Anyone want him dead besides his gambling cronies?”
Clara shook her head. “I’ve wracked my brain over that. I can’t think of anyone, but I might find something when I start going over his things. I have an audit of the books scheduled in a few days.”
Manny thanked her and had started for the door when she called after him: “Will you be in town long? Perhaps we could catch dinner tonight.”
Manny turned and faced her. His face warmed with a blush that he prayed wouldn’t be obvious. He had never been asked on a date before. The thought of dinner with Clara had earlier crossed his thoughts, before being beaten back as improbable. “I would love to, Ms. Downing.”
“Clara, please.”
He smiled. “I would like to, Clara, but I have a young tribal policeman I have to pick up and take back to Pine Ridge. Rain check?”
She smiled back, a warm smile that brought out even more blushing. “A rain check it is. Now don’t let me down. I won’t eat a bite until I eat it with you.”
Manny turned on his heels and quickly excused himself. A lovely woman asking him to dinner? Where Sonja and Desirée had their own agendas for coming on to him, he could only think of one that Clara would have: She knew more than she was telling him about Jason and the business, and wanted to find out how much Manny knew. Still, Clara was one woman whose company he was certain he’d enjoy. This time he bounded down the stairs two at a time, feeling young, thinking about cashing in that rain check soon.
Manny pulled up to the curb outside the
Rapid City Journal
office. Willie got up from the wino bench and walked around to the driver’s side. Manny slid over and Willie started climbing behind the wheel when he froze. He frowned as he ran his hand over the dented fender.
Rapid City Journal
office. Willie got up from the wino bench and walked around to the driver’s side. Manny slid over and Willie started climbing behind the wheel when he froze. He frowned as he ran his hand over the dented fender.
Manny looked at him and anticipated the question. “A light pole came at me a little faster than I could avoid it. Let’s just say it was self-defense.”
Again.
Again.
“Must have come after you pretty quick. The tire’s rubbing against the fender.”
Manny nodded. “Get it fixed and give me the bill. Price is no object. Your tax dollars at work.” He forced a laugh, but Willie didn’t. “What did you find out?” Manny asked to get Willie’s mind off the damage.
He slid the seat back before he reached into his rear pocket for his notebook and flipped pages. “There was a ton of info about the Red Cloud Corporation,” he began, “but not much about Jason. I researched the date of his parents’ accident that Verlyn Horn investigated. The
Journal
quoted him as claiming the brake lines had been cut, not ruptured as they’d initially reported. The Red Clouds came down that long hill just south of Interior and lost their brakes and plunged off a steep ravine. They lay there four days until a rancher found them.”
Journal
quoted him as claiming the brake lines had been cut, not ruptured as they’d initially reported. The Red Clouds came down that long hill just south of Interior and lost their brakes and plunged off a steep ravine. They lay there four days until a rancher found them.”
“What? I didn’t catch that.”
“I know you didn’t,” Willie agreed. “It’s like you’re in a dream or something.”
If Manny were in a dream, Clara Downing was there with him.
“I said, Verlyn Horn was certain they lost their brakes on that steep hill out of Interior.”
“I know the hill he was talking about.”
“Me, too,” Willie said. “The one before you come to Badlands Grocery. I could see them losing control if they had a head of steam and no brakes.”
“What else did you learn about the accident?”
“Not much.” Willie pinched Copenhagen between his thumb and forefinger, then offered the can to Manny. He shook his head, and Willie put the can back in his shirt pocket. Manny looked lovingly at the tobacco.
It could be rolled tight in a piece of paper, and if it were dried just a little bit, it might light.
“Because the accident happened on the rez, there wasn’t much coverage. The only reason it got written up at all is because the victims were Red Clouds.”
It could be rolled tight in a piece of paper, and if it were dried just a little bit, it might light.
“Because the accident happened on the rez, there wasn’t much coverage. The only reason it got written up at all is because the victims were Red Clouds.”
“Any mention of AIM’s involvement?”
He handed Manny a photocopied front page of the
Rapid City Journal
. Yellow marks dotted the copy where Willie had highlighted parts he felt were important. “There was mention of the Red Clouds opposing AIM, despite their son’s former involvement with the organization. Why do you ask?”
Rapid City Journal
. Yellow marks dotted the copy where Willie had highlighted parts he felt were important. “There was mention of the Red Clouds opposing AIM, despite their son’s former involvement with the organization. Why do you ask?”
Manny shrugged. “Call it a hunch. A man should always listen to his hunches in this business. That car wreck had AIM written all over it, just like Jason’s murder.”
“AIM involved in Jason’s death? They haven’t been active for decades.”
“But they’re not all dead. There’s some holdouts still lurking on Pine Ridge.”
“Sure, they have the occasional AIM member run for councilman from time to time; Russell Means made an unsuccessful run for tribal chairman a few years ago, even made it to the primary again this year. But they’re just a bunch of hangers-around now. Just old men playing dominoes and wishing they had the power again like they did in the 1970s.”
Manny grabbed a piece of gum from his shirt pocket and peeled back the foil. It was gooey from body heat. He popped it into his mouth and licked his sticky fingers. “Jason’s resort was to be at Wounded Knee. On sacred ground, at least that’s the way it’s been played in the media. Wounded Knee is sacred to AIM.”
“Most people I know on the rez think the massacre site is sacred, too. AIM doesn’t have a monopoly on that.”
“That’s true, but AIM’s been more vocal about it. Some members are opposed to any outsiders even coming onto Pine Ridge at all. They’ve pushed to ban Whites from even watching a Sun Dance.”
“Then how did the permits for the resort get through the tribal council?” Willie asked. “AIM doesn’t have the muscle it once did, and I doubt the threat of protests hold fear like it once did. But I’d have thought there would be an uproar over allowing the project to be built on sacred ground.”
“Economics.” Manny reached for the radio, found powwow music faint and breaking up on KILI, and turned it low. “People are no different here than they are elsewhere. Jason promised prosperity for the tribe. He claimed the resort was just the start. People got hungry, got greedy, and the measure passed the council.”
“That brings us back to AIM involvement.”
“So we better talk with whatever militants are left.”
“I only know one,” Willie said. “Reuben. He’d be the first one I’d visit with.”
Manny agreed. “But I better talk with him alone this time. Find anything else?”
Willie flipped another page in his notebook. “Sonja Myers. That’s one shark that’s out for herself.”
Manny recalled the softness of her voice, the way she sat close to him at the bistro. He wouldn’t describe Sonja as a shark. Opportunistic and conniving, but not a shark.
“The networks have their eyes on her,” Willie continued. “She has the looks and the education. The ability to make people tell her things, all sorts of things. All she has to do is break one story and she’s rocketed right out of Smallville to the big time.”
“That what
Journal
people told you?”
Journal
people told you?”
Willie smiled. “I found a lot of people who’d talk with me about her. Except for her making the majors, everyone would like to see her move on—soon. People warned me to watch her, so I’m warning you. She took things out of context before and she’ll do so again.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Manny settled back in the seat while his mind switched from Sonja to Clara.
They drove out of Rapid City past the green fields that melded into prairie grasses as tall as antelope. Both sat quiet, and Manny was thankful for that. He had other things on his mind: Clara Downing. She had been something more than charming. She had allowed him to forget his problems with Nathan Yellow Horse and Sonja Myers and Niles the Pile and the stitches in his head and hand.
He fought down the urge to rip the bandage off and rub his wound raw. Instead, he concentrated on remembering his time in the Red Cloud offices. Clara had treated him as an equal. Even though Manny had been hired as a minority in the bureau, he had a reputation as a top investigator and academy instructor. But he never quite lost the feeling that people treated him as Indian first and senior special agent second. The bureau always went out of its way to be racially tolerant with other minority agents. Indians were treated differently, although Manny could not exactly quantify it.
But here where Indians were populous, old racial biases rose to the surface once again. Relations had improved since he’d lived here, but his Lakota heritage was never far beneath the surface when he talked with people. But Clara had respected him. He wanted to cash in the rain check for dinner sooner than later.
Then Reuben pushed thoughts of Clara aside. Though Manny never concluded a case in his mind until he had uncovered sufficient facts, he had to admit that Reuben rose to the top of the dung heap as the prime suspect in Jason’s murder. Tomorrow he might have his answers from his brother, for what happened to Jason as well as what happened to the Red Clouds nearly thirty years ago. Tomorrow he would reinterview Reuben.
CHAPTER 13
The entire trip back to the reservation, the tire thump-thumpthumped against the crumpled fender. It didn’t help any that Willie’s tires had less tread than his boots had. By the time they crossed the Pine Ridge line, chunks had begun to break off. One flew into the air and was caught by the rearview mirror before falling away. Willie strained to control the truck as it darted into road ruts. He slowed down to a crawl as they approached Manny’s apartment.
“I’ll park it here. Call a wrecker tomorrow to cart it away to the body shop. Maybe get a new paint job, a new set of tires, since price is no object.”
Manny could say nothing in his defense. He unlocked the rental car and slipped behind the wheel. Willie stood by the open passenger door.
“Get in, I’m not that bad of a driver. You’ll be all right. I’ll regale you with tall tales of my exploits.”
“All right.” Willie folded himself into the car. “But drive careful, and tell me about your exploits later, when you’re not behind the wheel. I’d rather you tell me something about Aunt Lizzy’s AIM days. She doesn’t talk much about that.”
Manny drove slowly, carefully to Elizabeth’s house, so as not to cause Willie to jump out of the moving car in fear of his life. “What do you want to know?”
“She said that she, Reuben, and Jason were all close once, back in the day.”
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