Lori Armstrong - Merciless

“Contributors to Roger Apple’s campaign for tribal president and his staunchest supporters.” He tapped on Penny’s name. “I know you’re surprised to see her. But remember, she worked for the tribal council for the last twenty-five years. She had a strong opinion on who should lead the tribe.”

I whistled. “Arlette was found on Terry Vash’s land.”

“I picked up on that, too.”

We looked at each other.

My cell rang. The ID read LEX, and I noticed the time. “Shit. I was supposed to pick Lex up from school. Twenty minutes ago.” I answered with a cheery, “Hey, Lex. No, I didn’t forget.” Liar. “I got waylaid in Rapid City.” I waited while he hotly contested that response. “Don’t do that, I can call Hope or Jake to come get you. They’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops. It’ll take me an hour if I leave right now.” I briefly closed my eyes. “Fine. Call him and ask him if you can walk to his office. Just text me and let me know what I’m supposed to do.” He hung up on me.

I would’ve hung up on me, too. Dammit.

“Problem, Mama Mercy?”

“Yes. I screwed up and now-”

“Prince Dawson and the king will make you pay?”

“Oh, bite me. I’m still adjusting to this family-scheduling stuff.” Mason would be more understanding than Lex about my lapse. I hoped. “I’ve gotta go.” I gathered my papers.

“I’ll need a copy of those. I might get a chance over this long weekend to look at them.”

I frowned. “Long weekend?”

“Veterans Day, remember? The office is closed on Monday.”

“Damn. I forgot.” That meant school would be out, too.

Shay smirked. “You seem to be forgetting a lot of things lately, Sergeant Major. See you Tuesday.”

Tuesday morning, Turnbull’s number flashed on my cell phone screen just as I’d left my house. “Gunderson.”

“Agent. We’ve caught a case.”

Best to save my breath asking questions. He wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone anyway. “Where are you?”

“In your neighborhood. I’ll meet you in the parking lot at Besler’s grocery.”

“I’ll be there after I drop Lex off at school.”

“Is Dawson punishing you for your oversight last week? He has you working as a kid’s taxi service?” Turnbull said with a hint of snark. “What’s next? You’ll swap the FBI for the PTA?”

I shot a look at Lex, his Broncos winter hat pulled almost over his eyes. He stared straight ahead, his jaw set in the same stubborn manner as his father’s.

“Who pissed in your corn flakes this morning, Agent Turnbull? Jesus. Have another cup of coffee and quit being an ass. I’m on my way.” I hung up.

Lex looked at me, shocked.

“What?”

“Ah, nothin’.” He turned and stared out the passenger’s-side window.

Talk about awkward. And I was a little annoyed that Dawson’s phone call a half hour ago had allowed him to run out, leaving me to take Lex to school.

Oh, and to try to explain that barging into anyone’s bedroom without knocking isn’t ever a good idea.

In the short amount of time we’d been living together, we were used to being alone in the house-at least in our bedroom, even if the kitchen seemed to be full of people in the morning. I’d sweet-talked Mason into a quickie before we started our day. Being lost in the moment, neither of us bothered checking to see if we’d locked our bedroom door. Lex burst in and saw me riding his dad like a jockey.

So how did I handle this? Tell him when two people loved each other… nah. Lame. I’d give it to him straight: I was crazy in lust with his father, and yes, even old people like us got it on at every opportunity. Nah. That was way too much information.

“Lex, look. About what you saw this morning-”

“I didn’t see anything,” he said way too fast. “And my dad already lectured me enough.”

“I wasn’t going to lecture you.”

He shrugged, as if to say he didn’t care. “Who’s picking me up today?”

“I assume your dad. Why?”

“I need some school supplies. For a report. Stuff they don’t have in Eagle Ridge.”

“If you’ve got a list, I could pick the stuff up since I’m probably headed to Rapid at some point today.”

“We’re getting the list in second period. I just wanted to make sure someone wouldn’t forget to take me.”

Nice shot at my lapse in parental time management. Rather than defending myself or continuing the small talk, I reached over and turned up the radio. A catchy Keith Urban tune filled the truck cab, and I resisted the urge to sing along, a fact Lex probably appreciated.

Lex bailed out as soon as I pulled up in front of the middle school, before I could pep him up to have a good day and to study hard. I didn’t leave immediately, wanting to see if friends would hail him. I remembered from my childhood in this small town that being the new kid didn’t always translate into instant popularity. Geneva’s kids exited the bus, and Doug yelled for Lex to wait. Relieved, I whipped a U-turn and headed to the meeting point.

Turnbull wasn’t standing beside his Blazer when I pulled alongside his vehicle in Besler’s lot. He was on the phone and motioned for me to wait before he rolled down the window.

“What’s going on?”

“Follow me, and I’ll explain when we get there.”

Turns out we didn’t have to go far. Just a mile on the other side of the city limits by the dump.

That’s when my stomach dropped. Picking up a case at the dump couldn’t be good. After we cleared the gate, a rusted-out scrap of metal with one hinge that hadn’t been closed in years, I noticed a half-dozen vehicles. Mostly emergency and law enforcement-including Dawson’s patrol car.

Yippee.

Then I bristled. Had his abrupt departure this morning been related to this case? He couldn’t have warned me? I huddled in my coat after I slid from my pickup and waited for Turnbull. He’d parked in a vacant spot up closer to the action. He jogged back to me.

“I take it you’ve already been here?”

He nodded. “I got the call from the tribal police about this early.”

I squinted over his shoulder but couldn’t see anything beyond the cars besides patches of dead grass and a hillside dotted with litter. “What’s the sheriff’s office doing here?”

Shay studied me. “Dawson is pissing circles on the ground, bellowing about jurisdiction.”

“That sounds about right.”

“As soon as I saw the scene, I knew this was connected to our case, and I-”

“Took over.” Connected case meant one thing. “There’s been another murder?”

“Yeah. But before we head that way, you should prepare yourself.”

Another gruesome scene. Good thing I’d had only coffee for breakfast. But something in his tone keyed me in. “Prepare myself? Why? I know the victim, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why Dawson is here, too?”

“No.” Shay moved a fraction closer. “You okay, going head-to-head with him on this?”

“I’ll be fine, Turnbull. You seem to’ve forgotten I’ve spent most of my life in a male-dominated profession, shielding those closest to me about specifics of my job. This is no different.”

That placated him, and he relaxed slightly. “Well, this case is gonna hit you from another side.”

I braced myself. “Who’s the vic?”

“Verline Dupris.”

Shit. “Who reported her missing?” I couldn’t imagine her disappearance would go unnoticed. I scanned the vehicles for Rollie’s crappy pickup. Why hadn’t Rollie called me when she’d gone missing?

Maybe because of your reputation as being a bloodhound for the newly departed. But I hadn’t discovered a dead body in months, so I was hoping my debt to the universe had been marked PAID IN FULL.