Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (41 page)

e necklace was

just a simple woven leather strap with silver accents. In the middle rested a small charm of a lone elk carved out of elk ivory. It was beyond his range and the trader wouldn’t lower his price.

After Ben stomped off , I tossed down all my money.

Not enough. Th

e guy eyed my Swatch and let me use it

and my Black Hills Gold earrings to make up the price diff erence. I was absolutely giddy.

In his truck heading home, I drummed up the courage to give him the necklace and waited for his reaction; he could blow up from the slightest bruising of his pride just as easily as me, a trait we’d both inherited from our father.

But my gesture had touched him. Ben put on the necklace, letting it fall right next to the other necklace 477

he always wore.

“Julie?” Abita prompted.

I refocused. Managed a slight smile. “Th

ank you

for showing it to me again. I wondered what had happened to it.”

She watched Jericho. My gaze followed hers.

He sat at one of the stationary sand diggers, pulling the handles, digging and then swiveling his chair to start a new hole, making machine noises.

Th

e sun shone on his dark hair. With him growing up in the desert I’d expected those glorious sun-washed red highlights. His skin wasn’t the same dark hue as Abita’s, but a tawny gold. Even if I’d seen him on a hard-packed red clay street in the middle of a barrio I would’ve known him. His eyes and his smile were all Ben. Humbling to think I’d been worried about the necklace, when Jericho is what Ben had really left behind.

“I didn’t bring him here to hurt you.”

I wrapped my arms around my updrawn knees.

“But you are, Abita. You’re hurting me, you’re hurting Ben’s family, but most of all you’re hurting Jericho.”

“By giving him a father?”

“No. I’m happy you’ve found someone you want to spend your life with. But you’re doing the same thing to Jericho Ben’s mother and my father did to Ben. What happens when Jericho discovers John is not his biologi-478

cal father?”

Abita opened her mouth. Closed it without comment.

“Don’t think for a second he won’t fi nd out. He’ll look in the family photo album and see John didn’t enter his life until he was three. Or you’ll have another baby, and he’ll realize there are no pictures of
him
as a baby with his father. And while it’s true you can tell Jericho his real father is dead, he’s a curious little boy. He’ll want to know more. And if you hide it from him . . .”

Neither of us said anything. A chilly breeze blew off the water; the leaves swirled in a maelstrom. Win-tery bluish-gray clouds scuttled in and blocked the sun, reminding me it was the end of October.

Jericho raced over. “I wanna go now.”

“In a bit. First let’s check the speed of your new tennis shoes. Run to that bridge.” Abita pointed. “I’ll time you. Ready. Set. Go.”

He darted off like a ten point buck during hunting season.

Abita faced me and grabbed my hand. She locked her too-wise eyes to mine, put the necklace in my palm and curled my fi ngers around it. “I want you to have this.
Ben
would’ve wanted you to have it.”

I couldn’t speak. I just stared at her, my expression somewhere between awe and skepticism.

Her delighted laughter trilled around me like music.

479

“I’m assuming its not often you’re rendered speechless, Julie Collins.”

I squeezed the necklace until I felt the blood pulsing in my closed fi st. Yep. It really was there.

Jericho raced back and said, “How long?”

Without glancing at her watch, she said, “Th irty-seven point two. You can do better. Go again.”

He added a war whoop and tore up the distance.

I smiled and admired his exuberance. Little boys.

“—had the other necklace and I knew it was only fair you should have this one.”

My head whipped around so fast my neck cracked.

“What did you say?”

“Th

at it’s only fair you have a necklace too.”

“What other necklace?”

“Remember the one Ben wore all the time? He’d taken that one off ”—she pointed to my clenched fi st—

“for some reason, and forgot to put it on before he left for South Dakota.”

“But he had the other necklace, the one with all the funky pieces on it, when he left Arizona?”

“Yes. I teased him because I always thought he had an unusual attachment to it.”

Jericho zoomed back, putting on a burst of speed the last two yards, panting, “Faster?”

I almost yelled at him for the interruption.

480

“Yep. Th

irty-six point nine. Go again. Go faster. I could probably beat you today, slowpoke.”

I didn’t bother to watch Jericho’s antics. “When did you see Ben’s necklace?”

“Umm. Th

is week.”

Omigod. I was starting to hyperventilate. My blood pounded. I broke out in a cold sweat. “Where?

Who had it?”

A loud cry of pain rent the air. Abita was on her feet racing toward where Jericho rolled on the ground.

I followed as fast as my smoker’s lungs allowed.

Tears tracked Jericho’s face. Abita soothed him as she brushed dirt and pulverized leaves from his palms.

I had to wait. I had to stand there and fucking
wait
.

Logic asserted itself even as I ground my teeth. I’d already waited three and a half years, what was another few minutes?

Th

ose minutes were the longest of my life.

If I didn’t calm down I’d have a heart attack. Or an aneurysm.

When Jericho settled down, Abita picked him up and jacked him on her hip. He buried his face in her neck.

Déjà vu. Reminded me of the fi rst time I’d seen them.

“He’s tired. I should get him back to the dorm for a nap.”

481

“Abita—”

“I doan wanna nap,” he mumbled.

I inhaled. Exhaled.

Was it possible Abita didn’t recognize the importance of seeing that necklace?

Or maybe I’d attributed way too much importance to that damn trinket.

No. Ben never would have willingly given it up. It’d meant too much to him. Someone had taken it. Who?

Abita had seen Yvette, Owen, Reese, Leticia, and my father recently. One of them had killed Ben.

Another deep breath and I was ready to use a calm tone, even when my insides quaked 9.9 on the Richter scale. Spots danced in front of my eyes. “Abita. Who did you see wearing the necklace?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

NO! TELL ME RIGHT NOW! my head screamed,

but I managed a civilized, “No. You didn’t tell me.”

But even before she said the name, an awful realization clicked in my brain and I knew.

“Oh. Leticia was wearing it that night we had dinner with her and Yvette. I almost didn’t see it. But she bent down to get her purse, and where her shirt gapped, I saw that oddly-shaped bear tooth charm had gotten caught on the lapel. Remember? It was orangish-red and looked like amber? Th

ere could only be one of those

482

in the world. Anyway, she had the necklace on, tucked inside her shirt. I guess it didn’t match her outfi t and she didn’t want anyone to see it or something.”

Or something. Or that fucking traitorous bitch had taken it from our brother Ben after she’d slit his throat and left him to fucking die.

And now I knew.

I fell to the ground and heaved up my soul.

483

The last face Ben had seen was Leticia’s. Was that worse for him? Knowing his sister had put an end to his life? Were his last thoughts about the ultimate betrayal?

I was paralyzed. Numb. Filled with hatred and sadness. And horror. Everything in my life, everything I’d known spun out of control. I’d been living for this moment. Now that it was here I couldn’t believe I’d ever looked forward to it.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Abita lean down beside me. “Julie? You okay?”

I think I moved my head. In affi

rmation or denial?

Did it matter?

I threw up again.

Abita retreated.

Dry heaves followed. I squeezed my eyes shut as 484

my stomach continued to spasm. My heart to constrict.

My blood to freeze, then boil. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, poised on my hands and knees, facing the chilly, fi lthy ground. Dizzy, blind, deaf, and dumb.

I wanted to die.

“Julie?”

Go away, go away, go away, go away, go away, go away

“Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Jericho’s whimpers brought me out of that dark place quicker than a slap to the face.

I swallowed. Once. Twice. Th

ree times. I man-

aged to push myself upright, but I couldn’t open my eyes. God. I didn’t want to see Abita and Jericho standing in front of me. I wanted to wake up in my bed in a pool of cold sweat, clutching my star quilt, freaked out and pissed off by another one of those epic nightmares that haunt me.

Not real, not real, not happening, not happening

“Julie, you’re scaring me.”

I had to fi nd control. “Must’ve been something I ate.” I peeled my eyes open and hoped to hell I didn’t look like the drunken zombie Harvey had been the day he’d taken after the man he believed had killed his sister.

He’d gone off the deep end. Would I?

Yes. I already had.

Abita’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay to drive? Or 485

do you need me to take you home?”

“I’ll be okay to drive. I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I am. Jericho needs a nap. You go on.”

“I’ll call you later and check on you.”

I couldn’t watch her carry him away. Not when I suspected it’d be the last time I’d ever see them.

Wind rushed across the lake. Th

e damp breeze

cooled my heated face and brought the scent of stagnant water. Car doors slammed. Logging trucks whooshed down Rimrock Highway, jake-brakes grinding. Children’s laughter echoed behind me. An ambulance sped by on Jackson Boulevard. My pants were soggy; my knees cold from the ground. I was there. Yet I wasn’t.

I’d drifted into a realm of sub-reality.

When I was sure my legs would hold me, I stood. I lifted my face to the sky, hoping for the sun. Cold, wet wind stung my cheeks, but it wasn’t as painful as the coldness imbedded deeply in my bones.

I trudged to my truck and hoisted myself up into my seat. I began that staring out the window process I couldn’t seem to stop.

Leticia had killed Ben. I repeated it out loud. “Leticia killed Ben.”

Never in a million years had I suspected Ben’s sister.

486

Why had I discounted her so quickly? Because
I
couldn’t imagine killing him and I’d somehow applied my honor and accountability to
her
?

In murder cases family members are always prime suspects. It didn’t make sense Leticia hadn’t been on the short list. And I fi nally had a moment of clarity: there had been no short list; no list at all.

Th

e scant fi le on Ben’s murder hadn’t listed a single suspect or motive. Th

at’s why I’d been so damn frus-

trated for so many years. I’d thought the “powers that be” hadn’t cared. I’d cried
conspiracy!
because that word garnered attention, especially when jurisdictional and controversial racial issues were involved.

Th

e more I sat in stupefi ed horror, the more I realized there
had
been a conspiracy. A conspiracy of one.

Leticia had contacts in the BIA, and the Native American Gambling Commission, the FBI, and the tribal police. How had she managed to get Ben’s murder case set aside? And then ignored completely?

Easy. By telling the assorted agencies
not
to devote excessive time trying to solve her brother’s murder, or they’d be accused of preferential treatment because of Leticia’s position within the tribe. With the backlog of other issues, those agencies probably were more than happy to let the case fade away.

Her seemingly selfl ess action might’ve even changed 487

tribal members perception of her. A woman faced with tragedy sets aside her personal issues to work harder on the gaming compact, to create better opportunities for
all
members of the tribe.

Yes. She’d known how to spin it. I could almost hear it:
“Ben’s murder was a terrible thing. Our family is
devastated. Th

e circle is broken. But we know our
tiblo
is
walking with the
Wakan Tanka
.”
Th en she’d go on, business as usual, and concentrate on getting the goddamn casino up and running.

I was glad that fucker had blown up. For the fi rst time I wished I would’ve been the one holding the match.

What did I do now? Th

ere wasn’t a cop in the county

or on the rez who’d arrest her on such circumstantial evidence. She’d just claim Ben had
given
her the necklace before he died and she wore it in remembrance of him.

Other members of the Standing Elk family wouldn’t contradict her, not when I knew her earnings were the only thing keeping the family ranch afl oat.

If by some miracle I actually convinced anyone to listen to me, Leticia had an easy counterargument: she’d point out my obsession with Ben’s case. She’d claim I’d do or say anything to fi nd the culprit — which was true

— including accusing an innocent family member. No doubt she’d mention I’d been around when the casino blew, the casino she’d spent the last four years of her life 488

trying to build for her people.

Yeah, I’d come off as a vindictive psycho.

Was that what she wanted? I’d bet a million dollars she’d worn Ben’s necklace the day we met at Mostly Chocolates. Had she hoped I’d recognize it? Had she been taunting me with it, letting me know I couldn’t touch her? Or bring her down?

Wrong.

I had a Browning that would bring her down just fi ne.