Chapter 4
Tempe and Hutch had been grocery shopping and arrived home to find a black Ford Escort they didn't recognize parked in front of Blair's Honda. "Looks like Blair's friend is here," Tempe said.
Entering the cottage, both of them carrying bulging paper bags in their arms; they were greeted by Blair and a handsome black man around the same age. His dark hair close-cropped, he was about three inches taller than Blair's six feet. His smile was bright, contrasting with his dark skin. He wore a T-shirt proclaiming loyalty to the college both young men attended, and crisply ironed Chinos.
Both jumped up from the table and took the sacks and put the groceries on the counter top.
"Mom, Dad, this is my roommate, Chad Underwood."
Chad put his hand out to Tempe first. "Ma'am. Pleased to meet you." He shook Hutch's hand next. "Sir. I want to thank you both for inviting me to your home."
"You are certainly welcome," Hutch said. "Please, sit down."
After the amenities were over and Hutch and Tempe had stored the groceries in the cupboards and refrigerator, Tempe suggested they sit in the living room where it was more comfortable. Though small like the rest of the house, the room had a worn but plump overstuffed couch and two big armchairs, all facing the stone fireplace. A braided rug, left from another era, nearly covered the plank floor.
When they'd chosen places to sit, Blair warned they would only be there for a short while since he planned on taking Chad up to the fire station and introducing him. "Remember, Chad is majoring in fire science like I am. He's never seen a small volunteer fire station."
Chad chuckled. "No insult intended, but I've never been to a town as small as this one either."
"Before our son whisks you away, tell us about yourself," Tempe urged.
"There's not much to tell, Ma'am. I'm an orphan. I don't know if Blair mentioned it, but my parents came to California from Uganda. They had their own business and were trying to become citizens. I was born here. It was very important to them that I be an American and we only spoke English in our home. When I was five and starting school, they took me to kindergarten and on their way home, a speeder drove through a red light in a SUV and ran into my parents' car when it was in the intersection. They both died."
"I'm so sorry," Hutch said.
Tempe's hand went to her heart. "How horrible. What happened to you?"
"Well, Ma'am, at first, I didn't really understand. A social worker came and got me and took me to my first foster home. I guess they tried to find other relatives of mine, but there weren't any except maybe in Uganda, but they couldn't be located. Actually, I was blessed." He flashed another huge smile. "My second foster home was an African American family and it wasn't long before I felt comfortable there. My foster dad is a minister...."
Blair interrupted. "See? I told you Chad and I had lots in common." He grinned at Hutch.
Chad continued, "and my Mom is a typical minister's wife."
"Which my Mom isn't." This time Blair beamed at Tempe. He patted her hand.
Chad continued. "Ordinarily, I'd be spending Christmas with them. They're not taking in foster kids anymore. Everyone they've cared for have grown up and started their own lives. Lots of us still go home for the holidays, but this year my folks are on a mission trip to, of all places, Uganda. They've promised to see if they can find out anything about any relatives I might still have there."
"How exciting," Hutch said. "The only mission field I've ever been called to is right here in Bear Creek."
"Wouldn't that be something if they did find some of your relatives?" Tempe asked.
Chad nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. But I'm really happy with the folks I've got. They've been wonderful to me."
"That's a blessing," Hutch said. "Will you two be back for dinner?"
"What are you cooking?" Blair stood.
"Barbecuing steaks."
Chad grinned and deep dimples appeared in both cheeks. "You weren't kidding about being well fed."
Blair stood. "Hutch is a great cook. Don't worry, we'll definitely be here. What time?"
"Your Mom has to work, so how about around seven? Maybe she can take a break about then. What do you think, Tempe?"
"I'll try, since it's Wednesday it ought to be on the calm side, but who can tell?" Tempe said. "If I find out I can't make it, I'll call so you can eat without me."
Standing too, Chad said, "We'll make a point of being back on time, Sir." Once again he shook Tempe's hand and then Hutch's.
After the Blair and his friend left, Tempe caressed Hutch's cheek. "I better get my uniform on. It's nearly time for me to go on duty."
"I'll pray for a quiet night." Hutch leaned closer to Tempe and kissed her.
* * *
Despite it being Wednesday, Tempe knew as soon as her radio blared to life, and her cell phone rang at the same time, she wouldn't make it home for dinner.
The dispatcher informed her a body had been discovered on the Bear Creek Indian Reservation and she was directed to go there as quickly as possible to help Cruz Murphy, the reservation's Public Safety Chief, preserve the scene. The location was reported to be near the Bear Creek Recovery Center, which was located about a quarter mile past the Painted Rock site that sheltered ancient pictographs. The recovery center was at the end of the main road that passed through the reservation.
The cell phone call was from Detective Morrison with the same message, except delivered in his usual curt manner. Once she told him she was already on her way to the crime scene, he added, "Find out what you can from the Indians and let me know. I'll be out there as soon as I can."
Though the relationship between Tempe and the detective had improved somewhat over the last year, he still had the mistaken notion that because she had Native American blood in her veins, any Indian would respond to her immediately and tell her everything she wanted to know.
Because it was December, it was already dark as Tempe sped along the narrow curving road to her destination. She'd taken the road often enough in the daytime to know that ranches and homes were tucked in here and there-though at this time of night, she caught only glimpses of lighted windows as she raced by. She had her emergency lights turned on, along with her Siren, just to warn of her approach.
Finally she reached the carved and painted wooden sign that announced she was entering the Bear Creek Indian Reservation. Tempe knew that a reservation was first created at the eastern end of Dennison in 1857 for scattered bands of Indians, but as the town grew, it became inconvenient for many of the local citizens to have so many Indians as neighbors. In 1873, by presidential order, a new location for the reservation was established on 54,000 acres, much of it mountainous.
Narrow and winding, the road continued with dwellings on either side, scattered in the valleys and across the hillsides. She passed the turn-off to Bear Mountain Casino but slowed down as she drove through the part of the rez that contained the public safety building and the medical center. Two churches perched on a hillside off to the left. Across the way was the child-development center and pre-school and the building that housed the tribal council. Other community services and the new fire station were located on other side streets. Once past the hub of the rez, Tempe drove by more homes spread farther and farther apart and deeper into reservation land.
When she passed the place where the old lumber mill once operated and was now used for rodeos and Pow Wows, she knew she was getting close. The asphalt ended and she continued driving. On her right were the huge boulders that created the cave that protected pictographs of the legendary Hairy Man and his family, as well as other colorful Indian symbols.
The Hairy Man was a Yokut legend considered sacred to the tribe. She knew he was also believed to be powerful medicine. When Tempe was a little girl, her grandmother told her stories about the legend. Over the years, many Indians reported sightings of the Hairy Man.
Tempe had experienced her own encounter with the Hairy Man. The startling event wasn't something she'd shared with anyone except Hutch and Chief Murphy. During the investigation of the murder of a county supervisor a few months earlier, she'd learned more about the Hairy Man. When she'd been trapped by the supervisor's killer, the legend had saved her life.
As time passed, the memory of the event became less and less real-sometimes she wondered if she'd imagined the whole thing.
Ahead, red, blue and white lights flashed from emergency vehicles: the Bear Creek Public Safety truck that Chief Murphy drove, an ambulance, and a fire truck. Numerous people milled about in the shadows.
She parked behind the other vehicles. She didn't see the vans belonging to either the coroner or the crime scene investigator. Before Tempe even had her door open, Chief Murphy appeared out of the shadows, striding toward her. Cruz Murphy's mother was Yanduchi like Tempe, but his father was Irish-hence the unusual surname. His skin, hair and eyes were dark, but his features displayed more of his Irish heritage. Muscular, he filled out his tan uniform.
She slid out of the truck, and hurried toward him. "Chief Murphy, good to see you. What's going on?"
"Cruz, please. I think we know each other well enough by now to be on a first name basis."
"Cruz it is."
"I'm glad you're here, Tempe. The victim is from the reservation. The crime scene has been seriously contaminated. One of the residents of the recovery center discovered the body. Once he set off the alarm, the staff and other clients were all over the place. Soon as I got here, I shooed everyone away and cordoned off the area with tape. Too late, I'm afraid."
"Has the crime scene investigator been called?"
Murphy nodded. "And the coroner. They should arrive fairly soon."
Since they had to come all the way from Visalia, it would be awhile. "Have you identified the victim?" Tempe followed Murphy toward the crowd of spectators.
"A young Indian named Danny Tofoya."
His name sounded vaguely familiar. "You say he lived here on the rez?"
"Yes, he and his extended family are long time residents."
"Any suspects?"
"There are plenty of rumors. People are saying a young man named Jesus Running Bear probably did it."
"Who is he?"
"Someone who recently graduated from the recovery program. Instead of going home, he decided to hang around. Rented a room here on the rez from the parents of another graduate, Russell Sanger."
Tempe knew Indians with drug or alcohol problems from all over the state were either court-ordered into the recovery program or voluntarily checked themselves in. The program had a reputation for a high success rate in changing men's lives. As she'd been told by one of the elders, "White people have their 12 Step Programs and Alcoholics Anonymous, Indians use their own ceremonies and sweats to heal themselves. Liquor is a curse that kills more Indians than any of the white man's diseases or bullets."
"What's the motive? What are they saying is the reason Running Bear killed Tofoya?" she asked.
"From what I can gather, Running Bear was sweet on Tofoya's cousin. A girl named Jolie Tofoya. There's plenty of folks around who'll tell you about it."
Off to the right and away from the crowd, with inside lights blazing, was the long, low building housing the Bear Creek Recovery Center. As they approached the crowd made up of mostly Native American men of various ages-residents of the recovery center, Tempe guessed-the voices grew louder and angrier.
"Shoulda gone back where he came from."
"Jesus-wrong name for a murderer."
"Tofoya was right when he said Running Bear was a snake."
"Can't imagine what Jolie sees in that killer."
"Bet the Singers are sorry they took him in."
In a loud voice, Cruz commanded, "Let the deputy through."
The noise subsided as the onlookers turned to stare at Tempe. They moved aside enough to create a narrow path. She made her way through until she came out to the clearing where the sweat lodge was located. The crime scene tape went around the canvas-covered sweat lodge and beyond, but she couldn't see the body.
She turned and peered at Cruz Murphy.
He lifted the yellow tape and ducked under it, holding it up for her. "Follow me. The body's back here."
After passing the sweat lodge, she spotted a dark mound that resembled a pile of discarded rags tucked between two large fir trees. Two Native Americans in their turnout gear, black jackets and pants, with Bear Creek Fire Dept. stenciled in yellow on the back, stood guard.
Drawing nearer, Tempe noted the many footprints in the dirt. As Cruz had warned, this was clearly a contaminated crime scene. It wouldn't matter if she took a closer look.
Stepping within two feet, she knelt down, turned on her flashlight and shone it over the corpse. He was lying on his back, with a dark hole in his chest. Oddly, there was no blood anywhere around him, but there was blood on his neck and face, and even some on his arms and hands.
"He wasn't killed here," Tempe said. "He was transported after he was shot. At least that's my guess."
"Mine too. No rigor mortis-no real odor. This happened within the last couple of hours."
"Once Dr. Crandall gets here, she'll be able to tell us more. Did anyone hear the shots?"
"Folks have had plenty to say, but nothing about hearing gun fire."
"Who was the first person to find the body?" Tempe glanced around at the gathering of men. Not a single female could be seen.
"Jared Davis." Cruz pointed to a young man, obviously Native American like everyone else who had gathered. He shuffled his feet, kicking up puffs of dirt.
Tempe went over to Davis. "Hi, I'm Deputy Crabtree. How did you happen to find the body?"
Davis was short and skinny, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, but drug or alcohol abuse had aged him prematurely. His skin was spotty. Deep lines accented his mouth and forehead. His nearly black hair was pulled back into a pony tail. His eyes darted about. "All I was doing was walking around. I been in the program about three weeks. Sometimes these guys are more than I can handle and I have to get away by myself. I was just walking around thinking and I almost stumbled over that dead guy. I couldn't believe my eyes and started hollering for help."
"Did you touch him?" Tempe asked.
Shaking his head vigorously, Davis said, "No way. I could tell he was dead by looking at him. His eyes were open, but his spirit was gone."
"Do you know the victim?"
"Not really. I've seen him around is all. They say he lives, lived, on the rez. My home is in Dennison with my wife and kids. That's where I'll go back once I get out of this place."
"Did you hear or see anything unusual before you found the body?" Tempe asked.
Again he shook his head. "No. My head was filled with other things. Missing my family. Wondering how much longer it would be before I can get out of here."
"So that means you've still got some time left and will be here if I or someone else needs to talk to you again, right?"
"I ain't going nowhere 'til I graduate." He stepped away from her, blending into the shadows.
The sound of an approaching vehicle caught Tempe's attention. She watched the headlights coming over the hill, hoping it was Dr. Crandall. Instead, she was surprised to see it was a Honda, but not so surprised when it parked beside her truck and the doors flung open. Blair popped out of the driver's side and his friend, Chad from the passenger side.
Cruz Murphy frowned. "You know them?"
"Sure do, that's my son and his friend from college." She strode toward them. "Don't tell me you heard the call while you were at the fire station."
Blair grinned. "Nope, actually we were eating a great steak dinner when my scanner went off. I told Hutch what happened and he said that explained why you hadn't come home. We finished eating and when I told him we wanted to see what was going on, he gave us his blessing."
"He probably wanted you to check up on me," Tempe said.
"I have a hunch he wanted to make sure you were safe, Ma'am," Chad said.
She smiled. Not only was Blair's roommate polite, he was also diplomatic. "As long as you're here, son, maybe you can help. The victim's name is Danny Tofoya. Have you heard of him?"
Blair nodded. "He was a couple of years ahead of me in school. Popular guy. Football player. Known for his bad temper. Got in a lot of fights. Think he was suspended once. He was a good enough football player that he got counseling instead of being expelled. Kids grumbled about that a bit-especially the white kids. Some thought he got special treatment because he was a Native American. I doubt if that was so, too often the Indians weren't treated as well as the Mexican or white kids."
"What can we do to help, Ma'am?" Chad asked.
"Since no one knows you, why don't you wander around and listen to what people are saying." Tempe turned to her son, "Blair, see if you can find people you do know and ask what they saw, especially right after the body was discovered."
The young men began to mingle. The sound of more vehicles coming up the hill caught Tempe's attention. This time it was two vans with the county's logo. A trim blonde woman stepped out of a Ford minivan, Dr. Andrea Crandall, the crime scene investigator who also served as medical examiner. A portly man with a bald head, wriggled out of the gray coroner's van, along with a younger male helper. Things would begin moving now.
Dr. Crandall stepped into the small area, eerily illuminated by the emergency lights on the county vehicles flashing red, and blue. Those and the outside flood lamps on the recovery center were all that lit the scene. "Who's in charge here?" she called out. Her fair hair was cut short and she wore a navy blue no-nonsense pants suit and carried a large case by the handle.
"I am." Cruz stepped up to her, hand extended. "Cruz Murphy, Public Safety Chief for the reservation."
She shook his hand and peered around. "I don't suppose the crime scene has been preserved." Recognition showed in her eyes when she spotted Tempe. She grinned. "Deputy Crabtree, how nice to see you again."
Despite Dr. Crandall's fair complexion and light hair, the crime scene investigator also had Indian blood. She and Tempe had shared their experiences of being women in male dominated professions. Dr. Crandall had confessed to keeping her ethnic background quiet so she didn't have to endure more jokes or prejudice.
"Same here. Can I help you with your case?" Tempe asked, but Cruz reached for it before she could take it.
"Allow me," he said. The doctor released it to him. "As to your question about the crime scene, when I got here people were milling all around the victim. I don't think you'll find much of value except what you can get from the body itself."
"The sooner I get started the better." Dr. Crandall followed Cruz, with Tempe bringing up the rear. The crowd parted once again, allowing them through.
When they were about five feet from the corpse, Dr. Crandall said, "Stop here. Deputy, would you please play your flashlight beam in a circle around the body?"
Tempe took her flashlight from her utility belt and did as directed. Like she'd noted before, the dirt around the body was marred with many footprints.
Dr. Crandall sighed. "Okay." She moved closer. "Chief Murphy, if you'll put my case right there, please. And Deputy, hold the light steady. When I want you to move it, I'll ask." She opened the case, lifted out a large battery powered light and set it up and turned it on.
At first the doctor peered at the victim, moving around him. Bending down at times, not touching anything, she finally asked, "Deputy, would you please hand me my camera."
Once the doctor had the camera, she took photos of the victim from every angle, some from a distance, some up close. She put the camera back and took out a notebook and wrote quickly for several minutes. She also drew some simple sketches of the body. Again, reaching in her case, she drew out a pair of latex gloves and put them on. She inserted what resembled a thermometer into the corpse's side. Pulled it out, stared for a moment, and wrote more notes.
She stood with one hand on her hip. "He's probably been dead only a couple of hours. He was shot in the chest, but it didn't happen here. If you'll note the blood on his face, arms and hands, I suspect he was transported with his head hanging down. What I want you two to do is walk a grid and see if you can find tire tracks or anything that might give us a hint about how he got here."
Tempe and Cruz followed her instructions, each of them with their own flashlight. Tempe stared at the ground as she walked back and forth, but there was nothing significant there except the multitude of shoe prints in the dirt. Finally the cleared ground gave way to matted weeds except for the narrow road that disappeared into the mountains. Nothing appeared out of place or unusual.
Cruz had as little success as she. They both returned to Dr. Crandall and the body. She'd turned the victim on his side so she could retrieve his wallet from his back pocket.
After they'd reported their lack of findings, she said, "There is no exit wound which means the bullet is still inside. That could be helpful if the murder weapon turns up. I'll have the coroner transport the body to the lab. He ought to be able to do the autopsy tomorrow. I'll be there. You're both welcome to come if you like."
Tempe couldn't think of anything she'd less like to do.
From the expression on Cruz's face, he felt the same and said, "Thanks, but I'm busy."
"The identification this man had on his person identifies him as Daniel Tofoya who lives right here on the reservation." Dr. Crandall glanced from Tempe to Cruz.
"Yes, I recognized the victim," Cruz agreed.
Two men, with sports jackets swinging open to reveal their shoulder holsters as they strode through the crowd, approached Tempe, Cruz and Dr. Crandall. The burly one with the craggy, battered face was Detective Morrison. Leaner, his partner, Detective Richards, stared at Tempe in a not particularly friendly manner before asking, "So, what have we got?"
Dr. Crandall filled them in on what she'd learned about the victim. Chief Murphy explained the circumstances of the discovery of the body, the contamination of the crime scene, and his and Tempe's unsuccessful search for clues.
"Anyone talked to these people?" Richards asked.
"Both Deputy Crabtree and I have questioned the man who discovered the body, but we haven't had time to do much else," Cruz said.
"Uh huh." Richards peered around him, his face tightened into a squint. "Who are these people? Most of them look like Indians to me."
Tempe bristled. "That's because they are Indians. We're on a reservation, after all. Most of the men you see are staying in the recovery center right there." She pointed at the lighted building.
Morrison clamped his big hand on Tempe's shoulder. "Calm down, Crabtree. We're merely trying to get our bearings."
Tempe took a deep breath. "My son, Blair, is here, along with a friend. They're both college students studying fire science. Blair went to high school with the victim. He and his friend have been mingling with the crowd. Perhaps they've heard something that might be useful."
Again Richards studied the gathering. "I'm guessing the blond kid is yours and the black guy is his friend. They stick out like sore thumbs."
The big hand on her shoulder squeezed another warning. Morrison said, "Probably be better if we didn't call them over right now."
Richards frowned. "You might be right. See what you can find out from them and give us a call in the morning." He turned his back on Tempe and addressed Dr. Crandall. "When will you have something more for us?"
Morrison pulled Tempe aside. "Don't mind him. Get the boys home. Let them tell you everything they've heard. Call me in the morning and I'll let you know what I want you to do next. Okay? We'll contact the victim's family before we leave."
Tempe couldn't imagine a worse pair to break the sad news.
Her expression must've betrayed her feelings because Morrison said quickly, "Don't worry, we'll be gentle. We've had lots of practice. Tomorrow, Richards and I will come here in the daylight and examine the area. See if there's anything you missed in the dark. I know Richards will agree that you'll do better questioning the people here than we could."
By the time Tempe reached Blair and Chad, the coroner and his assistant were collecting the corpse to take to the morgue. The crowd had already begun to thin. The residents of the recovery center slowly made their way toward the long, low-slung building.
"Time to go. Did you find out anything interesting?" Tempe asked.
Smiles lit up both of the young men's faces. "Sure did," Blair said.
"Yes, Ma'am," was Chad's answer.
"Though I'd love to hear what you have to say, I'll wait until we get home."
Tempe climbed into her truck and glanced at the scene in front of her. Most of the crowd had dispersed. Chief Murphy, Detectives Morrison and Richards appeared to be having a heated discussion. Morrison scowled. Richards' face gathered into one big squint. Chief Murphy waved his arms around. No doubt they were involved in a turf war about who was in charge.
Backing away and turning around, Tempe was grateful not to be involved.
Chapter 5
Hutch was waiting up when they arrived home. While he reheated Tempe's dinner, she told him about the murder on the reservation. While she ate, the boys related what they'd heard.
"Sounds like this Running Bear guy is the chief suspect," Blair began.
Chad agreed. "That's what I mostly heard too, Ma'am."
"Seems this Running Bear came to the recovery center on his own. Toward the end of his time, he met a girl and fell for her. Instead of returning back to his home town, he found a room to rent and got a job. This girl is a cousin of Danny Tofoya. The word is this girl is going to have Running Bear's baby and Danny was furious." Blair turned to Chad. "Tell them what you heard."
"Much the same except a couple of the guys I talked to said Tofoya threatened Running Bear if he didn't leave the reservation."
"Threatened him how?" Tempe asked.
"Things like he was going to slit his throat, beat him to death, cut out his heart and feed it to him, Ma'am," Chad said.
"People actually heard Tofoya make these threats?"
"Yes, Ma'am, that's what they said."
Hutch inserted, "Maybe Running Bear killed him in self-defense."
"Could be," Tempe said, "but no weapon was found."
"And maybe what we heard was nothing more than gossip. Might be someone totally different who was responsible for Danny's death," Blair said. "He wasn't a particularly pleasant person. Liked to throw his weight around. There are plenty of people who won't be too broken up about Danny being gone."
Tempe grinned. "I'm glad you aren't choosing the most obvious person as the guilty party."
Blair beamed. "I learned from the best."
Over the years, when the most easily identified suspect had been arrested with no further investigation for any others, Tempe had investigated murders on her own time, sometimes at the peril of her job and even her life, until she ferreted out the truth and the guilty party.
"Looks like you'll be busy tomorrow," Hutch said.
She nodded. "Detective Morrison already asked me to go to the reservation and get started with the questions. Unless there's something else I should know, we better get some sleep."
Blair and Chad exchanged an enigmatic glance.
Tempe frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," Blair said, too quickly. "Come on, Chad. Let's hit the sack."
Hutch shrugged his own ignorance.
Once the young men were out of the room, Tempe asked, "Did you get the impression the boys were keeping something back?"
"It certainly appeared that way," Hutch said. "I suspect when they're ready they'll tell you whatever it is."
"I certainly hope so." She yawned. "If I'm going to be worth anything tomorrow, I'd better head for bed."
Walking down the hallway, Tempe noted the light beneath Blair's door and the heard the sound of his and Chad's voices raised in an excited conversation.
* * *
After dressing and eating, the first thing Tempe did was call Sergeant Guthrie. When he answered, she said, "Crabtree here. Did Detective Morrison call you?"
"About what?" The sergeant sounded irritated.
"He's asked me to go to the reservation and start questioning people about the murder victim that was found out there last night."
"Oh, that."
"I just wanted to be sure you knew so you'll assign a substitute for my shift here in Bear Creek this afternoon."
"What's he thinking, anyway? You can just drop everything and work for him whenever he asks."
"It is okay, isn't it?" One thing for sure, she wasn't about to work all day and do her regular shift in the evening. If she had to, she'd call Morrison and tell him she couldn't do what he wanted.
Guthrie didn't speak for a long while. Finally he said, "Oh, go ahead. I'll talk to Morrison. This has to stop."
"Okay, thanks, Sergeant."
"Don't thank me. I'm not the least bit happy about this." He hung up.
Tempe turned to Hutch who was cleaning up after their breakfast. "It didn't sound like Morrison asked my sergeant if he could use me on this case. Or if Morrison did, Guthrie isn't happy about it."
"So are you still going?" Hutch asked.
"Sure. I told Morrison I would. He'll probably get around to talking to Sergeant Guthrie if he hasn't already. I don't hear the boys. Are they still sleeping?"
Hutch chuckled. "Are you kidding? They were already eating when I got up and left soon after."
Since Hutch was always an early riser, praying and reading his Bible before he did anything else, Blair and Chad must've taken off before sunup.
"Did they say where they were going?"
"No, but I suspect up to the fire station."
Tempe wasn't so sure that was their destination, but they were both old enough to know what they were doing-and smart enough, she hoped.
* * *
Her first stop on the reservation was to check-in with Chief Murphy. He was by his truck in the driveway of the Public Safety Building, ready to climb in.
"Glad I caught you before you took off," Tempe said.
"I need to hurry. Those two detectives want me to meet them at the crime scene. I'd like to get there first."
"I won't keep you but a second. Detective Morrison asked me to question some of the principles in the case. Can you tell me where I can find the young man named Jesus Running Bear?"
Murphy scowled. "Don't pay too much attention to the gossip you heard last night. Running Bear is an outsider-hence the quick judgment about him."
"I know, but he seemed like a good person to start with since so many seemed to jump to the same conclusion about him."
Murphy glanced at his watch. "If you hurry you might be able to catch him before he leaves for work. He's staying with the Singers. They're house is just off Reservation Road, near the turnoff to the casino. There's a big oak tree in the front yard. I think their name is painted on the mailbox. I've got to go. Good luck."
"Thanks."
Back in her truck, she turned around and followed the Chief's directions. She found the big oak and the mailbox with the name Singer. A low, slatted redwood fence ran around the property. At the end of a driveway, a well-kept flower garden fronted a double-wide mobile home. A covered patio sheltered the front steps.
An old Chevy pick-up was parked in front of a car port. Parked inside was an older model Suburban. A slight breeze caused the several wind chimes suspended from the roof of the patio to jingle melodiously.
Tempe pulled her truck in beside the pick-up and climbed out. Before she reached the porch stairs, a young man opened the door and stepped out. He halted as soon as he spotted Tempe.
"Are you Jesus Running Bear?" she asked.
Good looking, but obviously apprehensive by Tempe's unexpected and uniformed appearance, he swallowed hard before answering. "Yes." Short and slim, he wore dark blue work pants and a lighter blue shirt, with Running Bear embroidered on the pocket. Comb strokes were still visible in his damp black, neatly trimmed hair.
"I'm Deputy Crabtree and I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"I don't want to be late for work. Can't this wait?"
"No, I'm afraid it can't. Let's go back inside and you can call your work and tell them you've been detained."
"What's this about anyway?" He searched Tempe's face as though he'd find the answer there.
"We'll talk inside."
Running Bear opened the door for her and she stepped inside. A plump middle-aged woman dressed in jeans and an over-sized T-shirt was dusting an end table that matched the one on the other side of a pale leather sectional that curved around the living room. A medium-sized flat-screen TV hung on the opposite wall.
"Oh." The woman stared at Tempe.
"Sorry if I startled you." She introduced herself and gave the woman a card.
After looking at it for a moment, she blinked. "I'm Mrs. Singer. How can I help you?"
"I wonder if there's someplace where I can talk to Mr. Running Bear alone?" Tempe asked.
Mrs. Singer frowned. "What this about?"
"Mr. Running Bear can explain after we're through," Tempe said.
"Right here is okay. I'll go make the beds and clean the bathroom." Mrs. Singer disappeared through the door at the far end of the room.
"Why don't you make your phone call?" Tempe pointed to a cordless phone sitting in a holder.
Once Running Bear notified his work about his unavoidable delay, he stood, shifting his feet and biting his lip.
"Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Running Bear." Tempe sat at one end of the couch. Running Bear plopped down in the middle.
"Did you hear what happened to Daniel Tofoya?" She carefully watched Running Bear's expression.
His eyes widened. "You don't think I...? No, I didn't have anything to do with it."
"So what have you heard?"
Again, Running Bear swallowed hard. "Just that someone killed Danny-up by the recovery center."
"I was there last night, Mr. Running Bear. And do you know what people were saying?"
He shook his head.
"That Jesus Running Bear killed Daniel Tofoya."
Running Bear leapt to his feet. "I didn't do any such thing!"
"Sit down," Tempe said, quietly. "Why would people say that if it isn't true?"
He crumpled back onto the couch. "I don't know." He buried his face in his hands.
"No, that's not true, I do know why."
"Tell me."
"Because I'm an outsider. I've had big drinking problems. Got me into lots of trouble. I found out about the recovery center here and checked myself in. Right before I graduated, I met a girl. Jolie Tofoya, Danny's cousin. Jolie is the girl my grandmother told me I'm going to marry."
Puzzled by this statement, Tempe asked, "How did your grandmother know Jolie if you're not from around here?"
"I don't know what sort of Indian you are, whether you believe in the old ways or not, but my grandmother has a gift. She can tell the future by reading tea leaves. She told me the kind of girls I would meet including the one I should marry. I met them, one after another, and they were exactly like my grandma described."
Though Tempe didn't consider herself to be knowledgeable about Native American culture, she certainly had respect for the old ways and those who believed in them. She had never met an Indian or anyone else who could read tea leaves, but she'd certainly met several Indians with other unique spiritual talents. She wasn't about to belittle this young man's grandmother's gift. "So what else did she tell you?"
"She described Jolie Tofoya exactly. When I met her, I knew she was the one I'm supposed to marry. She has curly brown hair, a dimple in one cheek and she respects her Indian heritage. It took me awhile to convince her that we were destined to be together, but now she loves me as much as I love her." Running Bear's eyes glistened as he spoke. His strong feeling for this young woman was evident.
"I heard she's pregnant with your child. Why haven't you two gotten married?"
His face drained of color. "Her pregnancy is supposed to be a secret. I can't believe how many people know. Believe me, marrying Jolie is what I want more than anything. Part of the problem is I don't have anything but my name and my love to give her. I'm renting a room here from the Singers and I don't think they'd be thrilled with me bringing a pregnant wife to share that room with me."
"Have you asked?"
"No, but that isn't the only reason. Jolie hasn't told her folks about her pregnancy yet. All they've heard about me is what Danny had to say-and none of it was good. We've talked about things we might do, but none of them have worked out so far."
"Danny knew about Jolie's pregnancy, didn't he?"
Running Bear hung his head. "Jolie told a girlfriend, who told someone Danny knew."
"He threatened to kill you, didn't he?"
Standing, the young man began pacing. "Oh, yeah. In many ways. He had a new one every time I ran into him."
"I have to ask. Did you kill Daniel Tofoya?"
He halted. "No. I did not. I don't even know how he died."
"He was shot in the chest." She watched his reaction.
Slowly, he shook his head. "I don't have a gun."
That wasn't much of an alibi, he could have easily borrowed one. "Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday evening?"
"I was with Jolie part of the evening, trying to figure out if we got married where we could live. I suggested moving in with my grandmother, but she doesn't want to leave her family and the reservation. I also tried to convince her it was time to tell her parents about our coming child before someone else breaks the news."
"And then what did you do?"
"I drove around for awhile. Parked by the lake trying to figure things out."
"Did anyone see you?"
"Probably not."
"What time did you get home?"
"I don't know, maybe around eleven."
He didn't have an alibi for the critical time period.
"Did you hear all the Sirens last night?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. It's getting late. Can I go now?"
"As soon as you give me the phone number here in case I need to ask you something else. Where can I find Jolie at this time of day?"
His eyes grew huge. "Why do you have to talk to her?"
"I have to talk to everyone with any connection to Danny Tofoya."
"There are lots of people who didn't like Danny besides me," Running Bear said.
"I'm sure there are. Where can I find Jolie?"
"She works at the child care center here on the rez."
"Thank you. Before you go will you tell Mrs. Singer I'd like to speak with her?"
* * *
At first Mrs. Singer was uncooperative. She glared at Tempe with her arms crossed. "I don't know why you want to pick on such a nice young man like Jesus. He's a good friend of my son, Russ. Whatever you suspect he's done, you're wrong."
"Have you heard about what happened to Danny Tofoya?"
"I know there's bad blood between Jesus and Danny. Is that what this is about?"
"Someone shot and killed Danny Tofoya last night."
Mrs. Singer's hand flew to her mouth. She gasped. "Oh, my God. And you think...? No, no, that couldn't be true."
"There are some people here on the reservation that have already said they think Jesus did it."
Collapsing onto the couch, Mrs. Singer shook her head. "If Jesus was the one who was shot, Danny would be the guilty party. But Jesus isn't like that. He didn't even talk bad about Danny. I do know how Danny treated Jesus because Russ told me about it."
"Do you know if Jesus had access to a gun?"
A strange expression crossed Mrs. Singer's face. "Everyone on the rez has at least one gun. My husband has bunch of them. If Jesus wanted one, he could just help himself, I suppose. But I'm sure he didn't."
Mrs. Singer stood up again. "Look, I have to get ready for my shift at the casino. But you need to look at someone else besides Jesus. There are a lot of people around here who had no use for Danny Tofoya. He was a bully. Been one his whole life. If he wanted something someone else had, he took it. When he was a big high school football hero, he had a lot of friends. But he didn't have the smarts to go on to college. He had trouble keeping a job because he wasn't good at following orders. Go talk to some of the other folks around here. You'll find out what kind of person Danny was." She stepped over to the front door and opened it.
Tempe knew she was being dismissed. "Before you go, where can I find your son? I'd like to talk to him today if I can."
Reluctantly, Mrs. Singer told Tempe that her son also worked at the casino.
"You have my card. If you or anyone in your family thinks of anything I ought to know, give me a call."
* * *
Bear Creek Care Center was new, built with some of the profits derived from the casino. Bright primary colors and Indian symbols welcomed the children, the parents and visitors. The front door had
Welcome
painted on it and another word in what Tempe suspected was in the Yokut language and probably meant the same.
She stepped inside an office with a pleasant looking, plump Indian woman, dressed in a black tunic and trousers, with turquoise and silver jewelry around her neck and adorning her earlobes. She sat behind a large desk covered with folders and papers. The woman smiled and stood. "May I help you, Deputy?"
"Yes, you may. I'd like to speak to Jolie Tofoya."
A brief frown crossed the woman's face. "She's with her class. Is this important?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I'm afraid it is."
The woman stood, leaned toward Tempe and in a low voice asked, "Is this something to do with the murder of Danny Tofoya?"
Tempe wasn't the least bit surprised that the news about Daniel Tofoya's death had gotten around. "I'm afraid I'm not authorized to say. I do need to see Miss Tofoya."
Sliding around the desk, the woman said, "Under the circumstances, I'm surprised Jolie came to work today. After all, Danny was her cousin."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Wait here, she'll be out in a moment. Please don't keep her long as I'll have to take her place in the classroom."
From the moment Jolie Tofoya stepped into the room, Tempe knew the young woman didn't want to be there. Her long wavy hair swung loose around her face. She'd been crying, evidenced by her swollen eyes. "You wanted to see me?"
"I'm Deputy Crabtree and I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"What about?"
"I think you know."
Lifting her chin, she said defiantly, "Jesus Running Bear did not kill my cousin."
"Do you know that for a fact?"
"He would never do such a thing. He's a gentle, caring soul. No one in my family has given him a chance." She paused and sniffed. "And now, after this, there's no hope for us."
"Why doesn't your family like Jesus?" Tempe asked.
"Because he's a recovering alcoholic and he's not from around here. I've always been crazy about my cousin, Danny. We grew up together. We've always been close. If one or the other of us couldn't get a date for a school function, we'd go with each other." Jolie wiped tears from her eyes. "I'll miss Danny so much. If only he would have listened to me about Jesus."
"How did you and Jesus meet?"
"I love living on the reservation. Being a native person is an important part of my life. I like to go to the open sweats on Friday night out by the recovery center. Once, after participating in a sweat and cooling off in the river, I sat on a boulder drying off and thinking. Jesus came and sat beside me. We hit it off immediately. He told me about himself, including he'd had a serious alcohol problem and was being treated at the recovery center. We began meeting every Friday night. After his graduation, he didn't want to go back home. One of his friends he graduated with, Russ Singer, invited him to rent a room at his parents' house."
"What did your cousin Danny think about that?"
"He started acting crazy. He called Jesus names, always trying to start fights with him. Usually Jesus backed away. Sometimes he fought back but usually got beaten up for his trouble." Tears filled Jolie's eyes again. She shook her head. "No matter what anyone says, Jesus did not kill Danny."
"Are you pregnant?"
Jolie's eyes widened. Her answer was so quiet Tempe had to strain to hear it. "Yes."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
The door opened and Jolie's employer came in. "I'm sorry, but it's time Miss Tofoya went back to work."
"I have one more question. Jolie, do you have any idea who might have killed your cousin?"
"It wasn't Jesus." Jolie turned abruptly on her heel and left.
* * *
The recovery center was Tempe's next stop. She was surprised that neither Chief Murphy's truck or the detectives' cars were anywhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of yellow crime scene tape fluttered here and there, but it looked like everyone was through investigating the site where Daniel Tofoya's body had been found.
Entering the recovery center, she asked at the desk to talk to anyone who knew Jesus Running Bear. Using the front porch to conduct her interviews, she talked to several Native American men of various ages, one after the other. Right away she learned that Jesus and Danny had a fist fight in front of the recovery center before Jesus had graduated. Danny beat Jesus badly before the fight was broken up. Everyone heard Danny tell Jesus to stay away from his cousin, Jolie.
One older man said, "I'm surprised Danny was the one who died. I would have expected Danny to kill Jesus. That Danny had a fierce temper. He was a lot bigger and stronger than Jesus. But put a gun in someone's hand and it changes the odds."
The consensus was the same, most people were surprised that Danny was the victim rather than Jesus. Unlike last night, no one actually came out and said they were positive Jesus was the one who killed Danny. Most of the men weren't that anxious to even talk to an officer of the law about someone who was their friend.
Clearing Jesus Running Bear's name wasn't going to be easy. The only solution was to find out who murdered Danny Tofoya.
... continued ...
Want to continue reading? Click on the title below to download
by Marilyn Meredith
Mundania Press LLC
Kindle Edition ~ Release Date: 2010-10-01
List Price: $4.99
No comments:
Post a Comment