In the Arms of Stone Angels (15 page)

“It's not fair,” I argued. “If he was white, I bet the sheriff would look into it.”

Will narrowed his eyes and I wasn't sure if he was mad at me or not.

“The sheriff is a hard man, but a fair one. I know you don't agree, but if we brought him a solid reason to reopen this case—something the D.A. could sink his teeth into—I think the sheriff would listen.”

“You're right, Will. I don't agree.” I'd had enough.

I was tired and frustrated and the heat made everything worse. I couldn't let things go. I argued with the deputy, even when I knew he was only doing his job and had done us a favor by being out here before his shift started. Joe kept quiet, but he nodded his support and let me talk without interfering.

“Look, I hear what you're saying, Brenna,” the deputy said. “But there's one thing you don't know that could really blow up in our faces if we don't come up with something more solid.”

“What's that, Will?” Joe asked.

“There's a reason that the sheriff and anyone who investigated this murder wanted to hang Isaac Henry on the spot. And this didn't get into the papers. The sheriff held it back, so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't talk about this to anyone.” After we both nodded, Will heaved a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face before he went on. “It was bad enough that Heather Madsen had been stabbed so many times, but—”

The deputy stopped and looked at both of us.

“That girl had been scalped, too.”

Shawano—An Hour Later

Derek Bast had sent several text messages to Jade DeLuca, but after her late night with Chloe, Nicole and Brandy in Oklahoma City, she'd slept in and missed his first few attempts to reach her. By the time she got up and cleared the fog from her brain, she was coherent enough to get really pissed at him for not picking up the damned phone and calling her. All his text messages had been the same.

After she got dressed, she would call Derek. With her mom out of town on business, she was staying at her father's place. But after he had left her a note taped to her bedroom door that he had to work early and didn't know when he'd be back, she was relieved that she was on her own as usual. Sitting on her bed, she dialed Derek's number and when he picked up, she didn't bother to say hello.

“If this is important, why didn't you just call me?”

“Well, good morning to you, too.” He didn't sound in a good mood. “You got a lot of nerve bitching me out. You asked me to follow Brenna Nash. And I don't get one thank-you?”

Jade ignored the drama of Derek's faked hurt feelings. The jerk always demanded attention and constantly needed his ego stroked.

“Look, you've got just as much at stake here. So quit your whining.” Jade looked into the mirror on her dresser and wiped a corner of her mouth, tweaking her lipstick. “What's the texting all about?”

“I got up early and parked down the street from the Nash
place. If I hadn't done that, I would've missed what happened,” Derek said. She heard the smile in his voice.

“So tell me already.”

“She had a visitor. Some old Indian guy in a blue truck. He picked her up and I followed them.”

“Where'd they go?”

“You're not gonna like this.”

She heard Derek sigh on the phone and she rolled her eyes.

“Spit it out, Derek!”

“They drove to the bridge at Cry Baby. And they met up with one of my uncle's deputies. He wasn't wearing a uniform, but I recognized him.”

“What? Why would they be out there with the cops?” She jumped off her bed and walked to her window. “They're gonna find out what we did.”

“Not if we keep our mouths shut,” Derek said. “How could they?”

Jade used the word
we
so she wouldn't be alone in this, but she really only cared about covering her own ass. Even though others had played a part in what happened that night, no one knew how far she'd gone. What she'd done to Heather—no one could know.
No one!

“What did they do?” she asked. “Did you see?”

“No, I didn't hike in there. I was afraid they'd spot me.”

“I knew that little bitch came back here to stir things up. She's gonna get them to reopen Heather's case, I just know it. And we'll get dragged into this. That can't happen, Derek.” Jade paced her bedroom floor. “
Shit!
This can't be happening.”

“Nothing's happened yet. We don't know what they're looking for. What could be up there after all these years?”

“Why didn't you find out? You should have followed them.”

“I told you…they would've spotted me. We gotta play this smart, Jade. That Indian will fry for killing Heather. My uncle and this whole town are ready for that to happen.”

“Too bad Isaac Henry doesn't know that. This thing is never gonna be over as long as his trial is hanging over our heads. He could stay in that loony bin forever.”

“So what?” he argued. “With him locked away and not saying anything to the cops, that's as good as a life sentence. Nothing's gonna happen to us. This whole thing will blow over. You'll see.”

“Not if that little bitch doesn't let this go. She's messing this up for all of us.” Jade fell back onto her mattress and stared up at her ceiling. “We gotta teach her a lesson. And this time, we're rampin' it up.”

It didn't take Jade long to come up with an idea. And Derek was psyched when she told him what she had in mind. He had a mean streak that she could always count on.

“Are you calling Chloe?” he asked.

“No. She's out of it.” Jade didn't bother to explain that Chloe was too weak to handle something like this. “Call some of your buddies. Tell them to meet us at our usual spot, the old culvert at midnight. Operation Warpath starts tonight.”

Outskirts of Shawano—Late Afternoon

“I'm okay, Mom. We'll be home soon.”

I ended the call to my mother, knowing I hadn't told her the truth. I wasn't okay. None of this was okay. I told her about finding White Bird's sweat lodge and she was real happy until I gave her the bad news—that none of it mattered. We were back at square one with little to show.

Now I had to watch as strangers tore through the only thing I had left of him. Crime scene cops took what they wanted of his sweat lodge and bagged stuff. But when I saw one guy with a beaded leather pouch in plastic, with a strand of a colorful woven bracelet sticking out, I grabbed the sealed bag from his hands.

“Don't take that. It's…mine.”

“Brenna?” Joe Sunne rushed to me when he heard my angry voice. “What is it?”

He looked down at the plastic bag I had in my hand.

“That's his medicine pouch. And the bracelet that's sticking out? I made it for him.” My eyes welled with tears. “I left it…somewhere else, but he brought it with him. I can't believe he did that.”

I knew without looking that the medicine bag held the twig he had taken from my hair the day we first kissed. With the twig would be a small feather, a remembrance of the day we had set the little wounded bird free. And now my friendship bracelet had been worthy of his special pouch. I held back how personal all this was. My time with White Bird had been private until now. No one would understand how sad I was, watching these men tear apart everything he had worked so hard to do. The sweat lodge was a big deal to him and no one treated his things with respect. No one.

“That's evidence. I've got to take it,” the crime scene investigator argued.

When I didn't give the medicine pouch back, Will Tate stepped between us. “Sorry, Brenna. You knew this would happen.”

With trembling fingers, I handed the plastic Baggie back to the CSI guy. Will gave me a sympathetic look and got back to work. This whole thing was unfair and wrong. I needed today to turn out good, but all I saw was that daring to hope had been a mistake. And after I'd found the friendship bracelet that I'd made for him out of embroidery thread and beads, I realized he'd brought it here. He had a piece of me with him when he did his quest to become a man.

And knowing that made me sick, especially after how things had turned out.

“A boy doesn't usually bring personal things with him on a quest,” Joe said. “You must mean a great deal to him.”

The first time we'd met, the man had scared me. Now his deep gravelly voice felt like a hug.

“This has been hard, Joe.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks as I watched the police work. “I have to see him. If there's a shot at him getting better, I have to find a way to reach him.”

“I know, Brenna.” He squeezed my shoulder as he stood behind me. “Since there's nothing more we can do here, you want to pay a call on that doctor? We can do it together. And maybe your mother will be done with those painters. We can pick her up on the way. What do you say?”

Joe had a real subtle way of being a friend. And at that moment, when I needed to feel better, he found a way to lift my spirits.

“Yeah, let's do it.” I wiped my face and smiled. “Thanks, Joe.”

Red Cliffs Hospital—Early Evening

This time I didn't have to sneak in to see White Bird. I walked up to the receptionist outside the detention unit and signed in, saying, “I'm here to see Isaac Henry.”

I didn't look up to see her expression. I pretended like I'd visited a hundred times before. And with Mom and Joe standing behind me, it looked like I meant business, but the woman at the desk wasn't impressed. She looked up something on her computer and narrowed her eyes before she said, “I've got a flag that he's not receiving any visitors. I'll get his therapist, Dr. Ridgeway.”

She didn't wait for me to argue. The woman in the white uniform made a call and in minutes Dr. Ridgeway came through the locked door with a loud buzz.

“It's you.” He looked relieved that I'd come. “And I see you've brought people with you.”

I wasn't used to anyone being happy to see me. I made the introductions. And when it came to Joe Sunne, I stretched the truth a little.

“And this is Joe Sunne. He's a Shaman and tribal elder of the Euchee. He's here as an…official. He's checking into White Bird's treatment…for his tribe.”

“White Bird?”

“That's Isaac Henry's Indian name. He prefers it.”

“I didn't realize that. Are you here to help your friend, like we discussed?” The doc was playing it cagey in front of witnesses. With a kid, he hadn't thought twice about throwing his weight around. But with Mom and Joe here, he was acting all professional.

“Yes, that's why I brought Mr. Sunne. He's a tribal…representative. He's here…like a priest.”

Sometimes I don't know how I come up with my brand of bullshit. It was a gift and a curse. And today, it was a little bit of both. I kept my face real serious and I avoided looking at my mother, but Joe was hard to ignore. He stood with his chest out and chin up with both hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were fixed on the doc in the same scary way he'd glared at me the other night. And he didn't flinch or say a word.

He almost cracked me up.

“Oh? I've never seen anyone from his tribe here before. Your friend has never had a visitor, except for you.” The doc avoided the use of White Bird's Indian name. “But no matter. As long as you follow my instructions, I'm sure we can…”

“Our tribal customs are very important, too, Doctor. Nurturing the boy's spirit might heal his body.” Joe spoke for the first time. And he sounded impressive. “Ms. Nash and her mother were kind enough to notify the tribe that this young
man was Euchee. We hadn't known that before now. That's why he's had no visitors.”

“Really?” Ridgeway cocked his head and looked confused. “And you're aware of the boy's history and why he's here?”

“Yes, we are.” Joe nodded. “Can we see him now?”

“I'm sorry, but he's under sedation.” The doctor grimaced. “He hasn't been sleeping the last few nights, so today we gave him something to help. I wished you had called ahead.”

Nothing had gone right today. And if what the doc said was true, about White Bird being sedated, he wouldn't have been strong enough to reach me in his condition. I hated this and it showed on my face. Seeing my frustration, Mom put her arm around me.

“What about tomorrow?” Joe pressed and laid it on thick. “The tribal council is waiting for my report on his condition.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I'll change his meds, but I'm his attending therapist. I'll supervise your visit. Is that understood?”

I opened my mouth to object, but Joe nodded and said, “That'll be fine. We only ask that you respect our customs, as well.”

“That shouldn't be a problem.” The doctor told us to come back at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon and left.

I stood there staring at the locked door and it killed me to know White Bird was on the other side. I wanted to be with him. Touch him. And I wanted him to really see me, but I'd have to wait until tomorrow—an eternity in my world.

Shawano—7:20 p.m.

On our way home, we stopped at Denny's off the interstate. So much had happened that day, I think we all needed time to talk and let things sink in. We sat in the back and picked
a megabooth so I could stretch out. The next RV that pulled up with a herd of human clones would have to sit somewhere else.

Joe and my mother ate for real and I faked it.

At first, I caught Mom up on what had happened at the bridge and the crime scene, but eventually our conversation drifted to the hospital and what would come tomorrow. Mom sensed I was holding back and Joe knew I was. He glared at me until I finally got the message. He expected me to be honest and spill my secrets.

And the only way I could do that was over lemon meringue pie.

“Mom? I've got something to say and I want Joe to hear this, too. After tomorrow, I've got a feeling we won't have any more secrets between us, so here's a sneak preview.”

I told her everything; that my reading the obits had a purpose and I confessed that my occasional night trips to the graveyard were visits to my home away from home. Her jaw dropped on that one. I had to think up something to make her feel better.

“Hey, it's not like I constantly hang out with dead people.” I grimaced and shrugged. “It's just that most of my friends aren't exactly breathing, is all.”

That didn't make her feel any better, but at least she'd stopped asking questions. It didn't do any good spelling out every detail. I could tell by the look on Mom's face that she'd reached the saturation point. And Joe had given me the sideways glance that told me my mom had had enough.

Even though having Joe there had helped, it felt strange to talk about dead people and visions at Denny's. He understood what it was like to be different. And the “gift” he'd been given as a small boy, surviving his vision quest, gave us common
ground. I had no idea if I was actually losing my mind, but I knew that I was a far cry from being “normal.”

“Oh, my gosh, honey. I can't believe you went through all that…alone. You thought you were schizophrenic?”

When her eyes filled with tears, I knew what she was thinking.

“Mom, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. But I thought I'd put you through too much already. I was really scared I'd be a burden—more of one—and I couldn't do that to you.” I reached for her hand. “But if what Joe says is right, maybe I can help White Bird. I have to try.”

“But isn't that risky?” she asked me, but turned to Joe for an answer. “I don't understand any of this.”

“Yes, there's risk. And most people would think this is pure mumbo jumbo. But I've experienced it. And I know what I know,” he told her. When I glared at him for being too honest, Joe narrowed his eyes back at me. “We talked about this, Brenna. Your mom has a right to know. And a casual conversation over pie won't cut it. The two of you should talk more.”

“Okay already. I get it.” I took a bite of pie. “All this talking is wearing me out.”

Although I'd resisted telling Mom the truth until now, it had felt good to finally have everything in the open. I was still worried sick for White Bird, but I allowed myself a moment of feeling good. Lying and hiding stuff took a lot of energy. No wonder I was so friggin' skinny.

Hours Later

Lemon meringue pie and Mom's smile—a real smile that let me see the girl she used to be—had given me a false sense of security. After I got home, I took a long hot shower to wash
off the grime and what was left of my hope. In denial, I got dressed in my T-shirt and boxers and went straight to bed, pretending I could sleep. Acting like I was normal.

I was exhausted. And the walls of my room had closed in and my mind wouldn't let me relax. But this time I didn't run away to be with my stone angels. I had stayed to face my fears, which felt like a mistake.

I wasn't ready. Maybe I'd never be.

As I lay on my bed in the dark, I stared at my ceiling and all my insecurities hit at once. I'd wanted something more today. I'd counted on it. And when nothing much happened, I felt the hollow ache of failure. For White Bird's sake, that couldn't happen tomorrow. But what if it did?

What if I couldn't reach him like before? With all the hype over me having a gift, what if I had nothing except plain vanilla schizophrenia? The strain of being back in Shawano had hit me. I was faced with the stark reality that I might not be able to fix any of this. Not even having Mom and Joe on my side would matter if I couldn't help White Bird. Our paths had been linked from the first time we'd met. I felt responsible.

And I was scared as hell that our fate had already been decided.

This time when I closed my eyes, I didn't feel White Bird at all and that terrified me. In the dark, we were both invisible. We didn't exist. And all that I wasn't, and would never be, stared back at me through the blackness. What if he'd given up or had lost the strength to reach me? Maybe he'd blown through and wasted the only freedom he'd ever have and the emptiness inside me was all there was. I didn't want to think about the tie between us being severed for good, but in the dark of my room, that's all I saw.

After Midnight

I jerked awake to the sound of my mother screaming.

“Brenna! Get down and stay down!” The sound of loud pops forced me off my bed. And I fell onto shattered glass. Cracks in my window glinted in the moonlight. And the lamp on my nightstand had tumbled to the wood floor and busted. Had someone shot through my window?

“What's happening?” I yelled, but Mom didn't hear me.

Her footsteps thudded down the hall outside my room and the door swung open. She found me cowering in the dark. I was on the floor by my bed with hands over my head.

“Was that a gun?” I wasn't making sense, but everything I said had come from gut instinct. It felt like we were under attack. “Is someone shooting at us?”

“I don't know. I can't tell,” she whispered and shielded me with her body. That scared me more than I already was.

In the distance I heard the screech of tires and the house got real quiet, except for dogs barking across the street. Mom stayed still and stopped me from moving.

“Turn on some lights,” I said.

“
No!
Not until we know they're gone.”

Mom had used the word
they,
and Jade, Derek and his terrible friends flashed into my head. Waking up from a dead sleep, I must have heard something that had scared me awake. I had sat up in bed with my heart hammering, like my nightmares.

Only this time it had been real.