Lori Armstrong - Merciless

“Yeah. And without you thinking I’m sexist, I believe the best division of labor is for you to question the Dupris family and I’ll question Rondeaux.”

There was more to it than that. “And we don’t want anyone questioning whether I was impartial with Rollie, since I have a personal relationship with him.”

“Exactly. But I want to observe your sessions and I want you present when I talk to Rollie. Okay?”

“Fine.”

Turnbull opened the door to interview room one.

Nita Dupris stood beside the window. She turned and bestowed another lovely look of hatred upon me.

Tribal Police Chief Looks Twice entered after us, followed by Officer Ferguson and Carsten.

She raised a blond brow at me. “Is it necessary to keep her cuffed?”

I looked at Nita. “Do you plan on taking another swing at me?”

She shook her head.

I signaled to Officer Orson to remove the cuffs. On his way out the door I said, “Would you keep an eye on the daughters?”

We sat around the conference table. I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly and silently. “Miz Dupris, this is not a formal interview. You are not being charged with anything. Do you understand?”

A fuck-you look, but no response.

“I will need a verbal confirmation from you that you understand why you’re here.”

“Fine. I know why I’m here. Get on with the questions.”

“Did your daughter Verline live with you permanently?”

“No. She’s been livin’ with Rollie Rondeaux for the last three years. But she and her babies had been staying with me.”

“For how long?”

“About five days.”

“Was she in your residence for the majority of those five days?”

“No. She took off the morning of the third day, and she ain’t been back.”

“And this didn’t concern you?”

She shrugged. “Verline… well, she’s young. She’s got two little ones and an old man who don’t care about her or them babies. She needs a break once in a while. She hangs out with her friends a few days and then she comes back.”

“Who are her friends?”

“She don’t tell me.”

“Where does she go?”

Her lips flattened. “She don’t tell me that neither.”

“What’s the longest you remember her being gone?”

“Five or six days.”

“Do you have any idea where she spent those days?”

“Nope.”

“So you weren’t concerned when you hadn’t heard from her?”

Nita shook her head.

“She doesn’t even call you to check on her children when she takes these breaks?”

“Not usually. She knows they’re better off with me than with Rollie.” Nita leaned closer. “I ain’t gonna let that old man have them. He ain’t any more a father to them than the police chief is. And now they’re all I’ll have left of my baby girl-” Her voice broke.

Carsten poured her a glass of water and spoke in low, comforting tones.

When she’d settled, I resumed the questions. “Had Verline mentioned any threats against her?”

“Only the ones from Rollie. He said he’d throw her ass in the street if she got knocked up again.”

That sounded like a Rollie bluff.

“Rollie also said that he’d kill her if he ever found out she was fucking around on him. He’d kill her and not lose a wink of sleep over it. I heard him say that one time when they were fighting on the phone.”

No mistaking that as a bluff.

“Did she owe anyone money?”

Nita frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Had she been accused of taking something that didn’t belong to her?”

“I don’t know. Why does that matter?”

Because her hand had been chopped off like a thief’s. “Was she involved in any illegal activity? Like selling drugs?” I sensed Carsten’s displeasure with the question, but she didn’t object.

“Verline didn’t do drugs, and she stayed far away from people that sell them and do them.”

I asked a couple more questions, but it was becoming apparent Nita was just a babysitter, not Verline’s confidante.

“Can you think of anything else that might help us?” I asked.

“That sly bastard Rollie Rondeaux had something to do with her getting killed. Even if he didn’t do it, he somehow made it happen. He wanted to be rid of her. And he knows I will fight him tooth and nail on getting permanent guardianship. I’ve done it with my boys’ kids, and I’ll do it for Verline’s babies, too.”

“Thank you, Miz Dupris. We’ll be in touch.”

I scribbled in my notebook as Carsten walked out and brought in the next family member.

The interviews with the sisters were short. None of them had seen Verline during the missing days, but all of them were convinced Rollie Rondeaux had killed her. None could offer proof, but they all believed it.

The last sister to come in was Doreen. She asked if her answers would be confidential, and I had a glimmer of hope that she could provide new information. When I asked if she had any idea where Verline might’ve spent those missing three days, she said most likely with Junior Rondeaux.

There was our first lead.

Shay, Carsten, and Officer Ferguson left to escort the Dupris family out of the station, leaving me with the tribal police chief. I said, “No love lost between the Dupris family and Rondeaux family?”

“Ain’t just the Dupris family that takes issues with Rondeaux.”

I shut my notebook before I met the police chief’s eyes. “You’ve known Rollie Rondeaux a long time. You’ve been a cop on this reservation for years. Do you think Rollie could’ve done that to Verline?”

Tribal Police Chief Looks Twice fidgeted. Then he sighed again. “I honestly don’t know. But I do know we’ve been making the man wait for over an hour. I’ll be surprised if he hasn’t left.”

The five of us paused outside the other interview room. Turnbull handed me three aspirins and a bottle of water before leading the way inside.

Rollie was hunkered down in his chair and appeared to be sleeping. But as soon as we gathered around the table, he looked up.

His red-rimmed eyes made my heart hurt.

“Thanks for waiting, Mr. Rondeaux,” Carsten said.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me anything Verline’s family said about me, hey.”

“Afraid not,” Turnbull said brusquely. “So let’s get started. When was the last time you saw Verline?”

“Five days ago.”

“And was everything all right between you?”

Rollie shook his head, and the braids by his temples swayed.

“Care to elaborate?” Turnbull asked curtly.

No response, which annoyed Turnbull.

“It’s okay, Mr. Rondeaux,” Carsten said softly. “Take your time.”

Finally, Rollie said, “We had a big fight. Same old, same old. She’s young, I’m not. She wanted more than just bein’ my live-in, and I wasn’t about to put a ring on her finger.”

“What happened after the fight?”

“Again, same old, same old. She packed a bag, shoved the kids in the car, and took off for her mom’s place.”

Shay tapped his pen on his pad of paper. “How often did that happen?”

Rollie scratched his chin. “I reckon once every two or three months. First time it’s happened since she had the last baby. But that didn’t change the way she acted. Verline don’t call, she stays away until she works her mad off. By that time she’s sick of stayin’ with her mom, so she comes back to me.”

“Were you ever worried when you didn’t hear from her?”

“Worried to the point I file a missing-persons report? Nope.”

“Didn’t it bother you when she took off with your kids and dumped them at her mom’s house?”

“Course it bothered me. Nothin’ I could do about it. She wasn’t gonna listen to me. She was young. And as she pointed out, I ain’t got no claim on her.”