Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (14 page)

Th

en I called Kevin. He wasn’t very happy with me either, but he was on his way out to run interference.

“Julie?” Darrell shouted.

I made myself approach the edge. Didn’t mean I 149

had to look at the bones. “Yeah?”

“Will you help me for a second?”

Crap. “What do you need?”

“Find a stick so we can mark the initial starting place.”

“No problem.”

I roamed through disintegrating cowpies and com-pressed grasses. After circling several times, I stopped.

“I can’t fi nd anything.”

“Bring me a big rock, or anything to use as a marker.”

Rocks were in abundant supply. I carried a couple of fl at, crumbly ones down the slope, keeping my eyes on the back of Darrell’s head.

Absentmindedly he said, “Th

anks.”

Since neither of us was in the mood to talk, I left him to his site marking and drifted away.

What would happen now? June would be in trouble for withholding information from the sheriff . Would that trouble extend to her uncle, brother, and sister-in-law? Would the inquiries bring the GF&P around?

Would identifi cation of the bones fall to Bear Butte County? Or would the state take over? Jurisdictional issues between the various government entities made my head spin. Even when I’d worked for the county I’d never known who was in charge.

I strayed among the fl at slopes and dormant yucca plants. Chunks of rocks stuck up everywhere so if I wasn’t 150

paying attention I tripped. Th

e bluff and the stock dam

were the only points of interest. Without trees or houses or telephone poles, once you were out in the middle of this land, it’d be easy to get lost.

If someone was hiding a body, it seemed foolish they’d pick such an obvious place.

Kevin arrived before the sheriff . His Jeep crawled to a stop and he parked next to my pickup. He bypassed me and headed for Darrell, still holding vigil by the bones.

After he and Darrell shook hands, Kevin leaned over.

My throat closed and I looked away.

Two patrol cars and a Pennington County Dive Rescue van bumped across the terrain.

Sheriff Richards was the fi rst one out, Deputy Peach Fuzz close on his heels, once again tapped for camera duty. Richards sauntered up to me. “Collins. Stay right there. After we’re done here plan on spending some time in my offi

ce.” He directed everyone to the stock dam.

I fi gured I’d be cooling my jets alone, but pretty quick, Kevin returned. He’d been kicked off scene too.

Damn.

Th

e dive team reconvened at the van. Th ree men

and one woman donned dry suits and unrolled a fi nely woven net. A “drag and bag” operation. Might be fascinating to some, but it made me nauseous.

“You all right?” Kevin asked.

151

“No. I don’t want to watch this.”

“I don’t think the sheriff will let you watch. He’s pretty pissed off at you.”

I headed toward my truck, climbed into the cab, cranked the heater and sank back into the leather seats.

Kevin followed me. “What did Darrell tell you about that thing you found?”

“Human hair. Th

at piece at the top? Part of a scalp.”

“Gross. What else did he say?”

I smoked. Everything Darrell had kept from me about Ben tumbled out. By my third cigarette, my earlier anger returned full force.

Kevin didn’t say anything for quite a while.

“What? Please don’t tell me you think Darrell did the right thing?”

He shook his head. “Knowing how destroyed you were after Ben’s murder I couldn’t have looked you in the eyes and lied.”

“But?”

“But, I think he’s probably telling the truth. You didn’t live around here when the Sihasapa tribe started making noise about their lack of a gambling compact.

Any type of gambling was under fi re. Deadwood casino owners wanted high stakes betting, the state wanted a bigger chunk of video lottery money, and it seemed like every tribe in the state was building a new casino. State 152

politicians and tribal councils wanted to put a moratorium on any additional gaming. And they had the clout to do it. Everything ground to a halt for about a year.”

“I know you said you never saw Ben, but do you think he could’ve been involved with the gaming issues?”

Kevin scratched his chin and peered at the activity outside. “Yes. It would explain why his murder was brushed under the proverbial tipi.”

“Darrell said the tribe didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Darrell would say anything to save his own ass,”

Kevin muttered.

I frowned. “How do you know?”

No response.

“Come on, Kev, tell me.”

“As I was leaving, Darrell told Sheriff Richards he hadn’t wanted to come out here in an ‘unoffi cial’ capacity, especially after you showed him the section of human hair. He claimed he preferred to have proper paperwork at his disposal, but you browbeat him into it since he’d been friends with your brother. He said you wouldn’t even let him out of the truck to verify with the landowner you had permission to be on the land.”

“Th

at lying piece of shit.”

“Jules, I think there’s way more going on here than either of us can fathom.”

153

“With Ben’s murder?”

“Among other things.”

I didn’t dispute his statement because I was secretly relieved. I nestled my head in the headrest. Kevin did the same. We both fell asleep. When Kevin woke me up, the patrol cars were still there as was the dive/rescue van.

Two hours passed before the sheriff knocked on my window. “Gonna need both of you to come to the offi ce.”

Kevin returned to his Jeep. I waited for Darrell. Instead of returning to my truck, he climbed in the van with the rescue workers.

What the hell? He just left without explanation? Why?

Because he wants to distance himself from you.

Story of my life.

M M M

June Everett wasn’t at the sheriff ’s little soiree. Neither was Darrell Pretty Horses. Just me, Kevin, Sheriff Richards and the new Deputy, whose name I’d learned was Deputy White. I’d have to try not to slip up and call him peach fuzz. He wasn’t seasoned enough to have a sense of humor.

Kevin and I were seated at a table in the small conference room B, right off the booking area. While I’d worked here we’d never called it an “interrogation” room 154

because so rarely did Bear Butte County offi cers have the

need to interrogate.

Styrofoam cups of coff ee in hand, we waited for Sheriff Richards to begin.

He sighed. “I’ve watched the tape you made for your client. I know Lang Everett’s death was an accident. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t disclose the information on the contents of the hole. Or turn in the object you found on the Everett property. Who wants to go fi rst?”

Kevin nudged my foot under the table.

Jerk.

“In all fairness, Sheriff , I didn’t know what had been in that hole until yesterday.”

“How did you learn about the bones?”

“June Everett.”

“She just called you out of the blue?”

“Yes. She called me—drunk as a skunk—to thank me for staying with her at the accident site. While she was up looking at the sinkhole, she freaked out and said something like ‘Who dug that up again?’ I questioned her on it at the time but she clammed up. So I dropped it.”

“She say anything to you in the patrol car?”

“No. She called me Saturday to tell me what was in the hole.” My gaze locked to his. “She wanted me to come with her when she told you. I fi gured since they 155

were bones, it wouldn’t matter if it waited until after she’d buried her husband.”

Th

e sheriff fl inched. “What about the section of human hair you dug up? You didn’t think that was worth reporting?”

“I didn’t ‘dig it up’, it was just lying there. Never crossed my mind it was anything besides a piece of rope.

I picked it up, put it in my pocket and completely forgot I had it. When I showed it to Kevin we decided it might be an Indian artifact. I knew Darrell was an expert so I called him to identify it.”

“Did you also suspect the artifact was linked to an Indian burial ground?”

I nodded. “Another area of Darrell’s expertise. I thought I would kill two birds with one stone.”

He motioned for his deputy to refi ll our coff ee cups.

During the lull I ached for a cigarette.

“Anything else you want to add?”

“Yes, contrary to what Darrell has told you, he went out to the Everett place with me willingly. In fact, it was his idea. He said he could get a better idea if he saw the spot where I’d found the braid.” I slanted forward. “You honestly think I wanted to fi nd a pile of bones today?”

Th

e sheriff didn’t answer.

“So maybe after the idiot Colhoff family came around with guns ablazin’ we poked around. When that 156

skeletal hand appeared I called you right away. I’ve done nothing wrong. And I worked for you long enough that you think better of me anyway.”

“Julie,” Kevin warned.

Deputy White’s face matched his name.

I fumed.

Th

e sheriff fumed.

Kevin’s face stayed blank.

Sheriff Richards barked, “White, go see if Deputy John needs any help.”

White tiptoed from the room.

Th

e sheriff laced his hands behind his head. He leaned back in the crappy conference chair and gazed at the discolored acoustic ceiling tiles.

He wouldn’t be any worse on me if I just asked the questions burning my tongue. “Are you going to tell me anything about what you found in that stock dam today?”

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t? I wondered how long it would take you to come to that realization, Collins. Th

e dive rescue team dragged the

dam. Four times. Came up with human remains and a blue tarp.”

Kevin said, “Th

at rules out any kind of burial ground,

doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Th

e remains have gone to the state crime lab

in Pierre.”

157

“Any chance they can be identifi ed?”

“A good chance. Th

ey have a list of missing persons

from West River. Th

ey’ll try for a match with the cases

they’ve already got dental records on fi le. If they don’t get a match, they’ll expand to other open cases statewide.”

Th

e ugliness of the situation spread.

“Th

ere can’t be that many unsolved cases from

around here.”

Th

e sheriff sat up and dropped his elbows to the conference table. “More than you think.”

“Got a ballpark?” Kevin asked.

Wish I would’ve thought of that question.

“I know of ten missing persons cases off the top of my head. Some a few years old, some as far back as twenty.”

“Do you have any idea who?”

“Yes, I do. Before you ask, Collins, no, I don’t have any intention of telling you.”

Huge surprise there.

On his face was weariness, not anger. I wished Deputy Peach Fuzz was here to see the toll the damn job took on the most dedicated men.

“I’d also appreciate it if neither of you said anything to anyone about this. Don’t know how long we can keep it under wraps; I’m hoping until the DCI can identify the remains.”

Kevin said, “No problem.”

158

“Are you bringing June Everett in for questioning?”

I asked.

“In about an hour, why?”

“Because I promised her I’d be with her when she talked to you.”

“At the risk of sounding like an ingrate, you don’t want to be around. We’re also bringing in the rest of her family. Separately, of course.”

Th

ree knocks at the door. Missy popped her head in. “Sheriff ? Al and John are here for shift change.”

“Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”

She fl uttered her fi ngers at me and shut the door.

Kevin stood. So did I. “Anything else?” I oozed saccharine.

“No, you’re both done. And no off ense, Collins, but I hope it’s a really long time before I see you again. Trouble follows you like a lovesick dog.”

“I don’t try to get in trouble. It seems to fi nd me.”

“Th

en it’s not your goal to make my job hell?”

“I wish it would’ve been anyone else who would’ve found those bones. But you know what? Maybe now a family who’s been living in limbo can have some closure.”

“Nice rationalization. Truth is, that body didn’t wrap itself up in the tarp, nor did it dig its own grave.

Foul play opens up a whole other can of worms. Trust me, there will be plenty of people fi shing for answers.”

159

He lumbered from the room.

Kevin and I looked at each other. Th

e sheriff was

absolutely right. Finding those bones was a beginning, not an end.

160

At home I splashed Bailey’s Irish Crème in my mug and downed it like milk.

Between the booze, my fl annel robe and my star quilt, I still hadn’t gotten warm. No luck blocking the vision of those discarded bones from my mind, either.

Not only the who, but the why. Add in the shitty way Darrell had acted, the ass chewing from the sheriff , and no phone messages from Kim, Abita, or Martinez, and my mood darkened.

Th

e combination of alcohol and lack of food hit me all at once.

I scrounged up a can of Campbell’s Chunky Sirloin Burger soup and a package of stale crackers. Talk about gourmet. As I huddled at my tiny dinette set, alone, I decided the only way my life could be more pathetic was 161

if I was confessing my woes to a cat or ten, while watching
Wheel of Fortune
.

My lone dish done, I shuffl

ed into the living room

and curled up on the sofa. TV didn’t interest me. News shows returned my focus to the day’s harrowing events I’d been trying to avoid.