by Dannika Dark
“Koi is innocent,” Shikoba informed Robert.
Robert nodded, his voice friendlier. “I know.”
Shikoba looked up at a hawk circling overhead. “I remember one winter when your mother fell ill. She was a breath away from meeting her creator.”
“I’ve heard the story.”
“She carried you in her belly, and none of your people knew how to ease her suffering. With great reluctance, your father came to see me. I could have turned him away, but what would that say about my character? I decided if the child was meant to live, maybe he would do good things for us. There had to be a reason the spirits put me in charge of your lives.”
Robert’s eyes were downcast, and he scraped his heel against the ground. “We just want this to stop. The killer is getting more unpredictable, and that puts all of us at risk.” He swung his gaze up, his eyes resolute. “You need to nip this in the bud, or we’ll have no choice but to take action and seize your land. The laws out here state that only concrete evidence can get you imprisoned, but if we suspect you’re covering up a crime, we have the right to evict suspects from the territory. People are demanding it.”
“You are the Council. Demand order.”
“Dammit, Shikoba. You know it doesn’t work like that. I’ve got two packs knocking on my door, threatening to take matters into their own hands. Jack and I have been doing everything we can to put out the fire and keep them calm, but I don’t reckon I can keep people from coming out here and seeking their own justice. Their women are the ones getting killed, and every one of them was linked to one of your men. Regardless of how divided everyone is, that kind of thing has always gone on. People just keep the affairs private so they don’t have to deal with the scandal and shame of it all.”
Shikoba straightened his back. “I am not so naive as to think someone in my tribe couldn’t be guilty. But you must also accept that one of your own could be the demon in our midst. As leaders, we are responsible for keeping the peace—we must set the example. Our people look to us for wisdom. Don’t let the herd drive the horseman.”
Robert appeared to be buckling beneath the weight of public pressure to do something, yet he seemed like a man who wanted to do the right thing. His partner, Jack, leaned against the front of their car, arms crossed. Quiet didn’t necessarily mean less powerful. The Councilmen were all equals, though usually one of them officiated more mating ceremonies and acted as the Council’s representative.
“You have my word that I’ll turn over anyone guilty of these crimes,” Shikoba said. “But this land is sacred to us, so just know that if you try to move us out, we will have no choice but to go to war.”
Robert shook his head. “Neither of us wants it to come to that. You and I have known each other a long time—all my life—and that’s why I came out here. We chased off the men near the road who were planning to smoke you out. Most of them are the same people we deal with, and after the booze wears off, they’ll go home. I don’t want to convict a whole tribe for the crimes of one, but I’ll have no choice if you’re sheltering a killer. I’ve gotta do what I’ve gotta do to keep this whole thing from blowing up out of control. And if I find out you were the one who gave the order to kill those women to set some kind of example—”
“How dare you!” Kaota roared.
Shikoba swung his cane around to silence him.
Robert shifted his stance. “Who’s the girl? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a white woman on your land before.” His eyes skated down to my bare feet and oversized belt. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m fine,” I replied coolly.
He didn’t look convinced.
Shikoba gave me a cursory glance. “She’s with Lakota.”
Clearly the truth would look even more suspect. Not many women drove up to do business with gemstone dealers and then wandered around their properties half naked.
“Lakota?” Robert stroked his beard. “Which one is that?”
“We also call him Sky Hunter.”
Jack eased away from the car, his hands on his hips. “You mean the guy in the black pickup?” He scrunched his face and gave Robert a look I couldn’t discern.
Shikoba squared his shoulders. “They’re to be mated. Ceremony is tonight.”
I stifled a laugh.
That seemed to satisfy Robert, and he motioned for Jack to get in the car. “Take my advice, Shikoba. Cooperate and hand over the killer. We’ll be heading out now. If you hear any news, give me a call.” He glanced around. “Do you have phones out here? Anyhow, I’ll do what I can to keep the peace on my end, but I can’t make any promises. We uphold the laws, not enforce them. We would have to call in Regulators of the Security Force, and they’re not going to come out here and act as security guards. We’ll talk more later.”
Without another word, the two men got in the car and conversed for a few moments before driving away.
What other evidence did the Council have against the tribe? They seemed certain it was one of Shikoba’s packmates, so they must have been keeping something else to themselves. If someone in the tribe had murdered Koi by accident, he would have panicked for sure. Koi was Shikoba’s beloved nephew. Maybe the killer had taken the clothes because his scent was on them. I tried to imagine different scenarios, but detective work wasn’t my forte.
Shikoba climbed the steps.
“You lied to him,” I said. “About me and Lakota.”
He turned and smiled. “It’s only a lie if it doesn’t happen.”
Chapter 15
Lakota pulled up to the local Shifter bar and parked his truck at the back. When he’d woken up late that morning, he was lying naked on the floor. His wolf must have stayed up with her the whole night. Melody had slept through his shower, and he even stomped around loudly to rouse her before leaving. But she barely fluttered her eyelids, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. She looked so angelic, and he wanted to remember her that way. Since she was free to leave, maybe goodbyes would only make it harder for him to concentrate on the job at hand—the crime he still had to solve. After placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, he’d closed the door and headed to town to see what the word on the street was.
The first thing he’d done was swing by his apartment to change clothes and grab something to eat. He gassed up his truck, talked to a few people at the market, and finally headed over to the bar, where most of the gossip usually took place.
When he hopped out of the truck, he tied his hair up in a topknot and tucked his black skull T-shirt into his jeans to look less tribal. He wasn’t as brown as the local tribes, his features were softer, and he didn’t speak with the same intonation and dialect. Lakota knew very well how to tweak the way he spoke to different groups of people in order to blend in like a chameleon. Because of those factors, some of the locals were more relaxed around him.
The afternoon crowd was a slow one, with just a few regulars sitting at the bar. An old Patsy Cline song was playing on the jukebox while the local drunks watched a court show on TV.
Lakota eased up to the bar and ordered a cold one. Normally he drank in the back, but technically he didn’t belong to the local tribes. The sign wasn’t a hard rule so much as a means to keep order and prevent fights from breaking out. The bartender popped the lid off a bottle and set it on a coaster. Lakota remained standing, his forearm resting on the bar as he casually glanced up at the television.
He nodded to Red. “Any news on the murders?”
The slender man polished a glass, his mustache twitching and his eyes swinging up as he thought. “There was just a small mention at the end. The big story was the latest scandal with the mayor. Did ya hear about that one? Apparently someone got caught taking bribes. Just as well. We don’t need all that media attention in our backyard. People like stickin’ their noses where they don’t belong.” When a man at the end of the bar called for another beer, Red wiped his hand across his denim shirt. “Let me know if you want me to cook you up a burger.”
&
nbsp; Lakota stifled a laugh as the bartender wandered away. You needed an iron stomach to eat Red’s food.
He took a slow sip from his bottle, reminiscing over the previous night with Melody, as he’d been doing all day. His first time had been so damn perfect, yet he couldn’t help but wonder how he compared to her previous lovers. Maybe for her it hadn’t been such a big deal, and that thought alone was enough to steal the wind from his sails.
“Woman trouble?” someone asked.
Lakota looked over his shoulder at the dark-haired man sitting in the booth close to him. He’d seen him in the bar a number of times. Kind of hard to miss a guy in blue cowboy boots, but people in small towns had their quirks.
The man swirled the alcohol in his glass, not looking up. “You just look like you’ve been struck by Cupid’s motherfucking arrow.”
“Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Lakota said conversationally.
“Amen,” the man sang. “Are you one of them? You look familiar.”
Lakota strode up to the booth and sat down so the man could get a good look at his eyes. “My father’s white, so I pass for what matters.”
“Good man,” the stranger said. “My name’s Crow.”
“I’m Cross,” Lakota said, using his surname. He casually lifted his bottle and gazed up at the TV again. “Are they saying who did it?”
Crow looked shitfaced. Four empty glasses were neatly lined against the wall, each with a wadded-up napkin stuffed inside.
“Someone should do something,” a man grumbled from the bar. “Sick of this shit. Can’t even let my daughter walk to her friend’s house anymore.”
Lakota decided not to fire off too many questions about the murder since people were listening. “Know of any job openings around here? I could use something steady.”
Crow set down his glass and reached in his pocket. “Nope. Most Shifters around here live off what little land we got. A few guys haul lumber for good money, but they’re pack bitches.”
Quirking an eyebrow, Lakota asked, “What do you mean?”
“The packs have more money because they take all the good-paying jobs. The rest of us have to fend for ourselves.” Crow opened a box of cigarettes and lit one. “Want a smoke?”
Lakota shook his head, studying the gold box of Pilgrims. “I quit last year. Too expensive.”
Crow took a long drag. “You do what you gotta do.” After the smoke cleared, he flicked his ashes into the ashtray. “So where’s that woman you were with? You know, the one with the bubblegum hair.”
“Don’t know what you mean.”
Crow exhaled smoke through his nostrils. “I drove around yesterday morning and saw you two outside the motel. I’m not judging. She’s a sweet piece of ass.”
Lakota shifted in his seat when he felt his wolf stirring with jealousy.
Crow finished off his drink and set the short glass on the napkin. “Pickings are slim around here. I guess you know that already. Grab on to what you can, or you’ll end up with someone else’s leftovers. Just between you and me, is she as wild in the sack as she looks?” He took a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze distant. “I sure do love a sweet face on a bad girl.”
Lakota clenched his jaw. If Crow said one more word about Melody’s sweet anything, he was going to get a thrashing. It was how a lot of men talked, but it felt too personal to hear someone speaking that way about someone he’d known his whole life.
Crow rested his elbows on the table and brushed his messy black hair away from his eyes. Then he gave Lakota a sardonic smile. “You may think you’re fooling people with that little bun on your head and the shift in your accent, but at the end of the day, you’re no different from the rest of them. Girls like her don’t mess around with your kind, so I bet it felt real decadent taking a bite of forbidden fruit. Was she juicy?”
Lakota leaned forward, his voice low and menacing. “Do you feel that sharp prick between your legs?”
Crow looked down at where Lakota had his arm beneath the table with a blade to his groin. He took a puff of his cigarette and leveled Lakota with a stare. “Always knew you were all savages at heart. Just like that two-faced murderer.”
“What are you talking about?”
Crow tapped a finger against his cheek. “Your buddy with the tats. I saw him running across my land on the night of the murders. Ask around. Other people have seen him wandering across territories where he doesn’t belong. We can’t say shit because of slander laws. Maybe you should ask him what I’m talking about.”
Lakota withdrew his blade and tucked it back in the sheath on his belt.
Crow flicked his ashes into the ashtray. “A pack of rogues spotted a two-faced wolf at the crime scene yesterday. They lost a couple of men, and the pack is looking for retribution from the Council. Won’t be easy since they’re not an official pack, but you better watch your ass, Tonto. You don’t run the show around here. You break our laws, and you’ve got to suffer the consequences like everybody else.”
Lakota remained quiet. He was certain the pack Crow was referring to was the one they’d tangled with the day before. Those bastards were probably spreading lies about what had really happened. Lakota and Tak had the right to defend themselves since they’d all been on unclaimed land. But Lakota didn’t acknowledge a thing. Gossip was already rampant, and admitting that he and Tak had been hanging around the crime scene would only fuel the fire.
Crow took one last drag off his cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray. “Better watch out who you trust, or else that girl of yours might end up being the next sacrificial lamb.” He spread his arms over the back of his seat. “Baaaa.”
Incensed, Lakota launched out of his seat and stalked out. Crow continued laughing and bleating like a goat. This town was so backward that it made Lakota want to quit the assignment. After spending years traveling from city to city and busting criminals—sometimes slave-trading rings and other times murderers—he’d saved up a lot of cash and gained experience handling any situation. But part of him was ready to settle down. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take before it made him a colder man.
Lakota hopped in his truck and sped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. As asinine as some of the locals were, Crow might be on to something. What if it was Tak? The best criminals had gregarious personalities and kept close friendships to throw off suspicion. Lakota remembered research he’d done on psychopaths and sociopaths. They shared similar traits except that psychopaths were often charming and the last people suspected of wrongdoing. What made Tak even more dangerous was that he was an alpha, and by nature, Shifters often felt compelled to submit to an alpha. It wouldn’t take much for any of those young girls to comply with his commands had he led them away.
Like the Pied Piper. Wasn’t that the name Tak used to describe himself? Lakota recalled Tak’s words: “She has to trust you before you decide to pounce.”
When Lakota finally reached Shikoba’s house, he slammed the truck door and went inside. “Where’s Tak?”
A young woman pointed at the kitchen.
Lakota entered the kitchen and saw Tak standing between the counter and the long kitchen island. He had a folded piece of flatbread in his hand.
“Hey, brother,” he said, chewing off a piece. “You want some? You’re going to need your energy.”
Lakota flattened his palms on the island, fingers splayed. “We need to talk.”
Tak’s eyebrows drew together. After finishing his bite, he pulled out a plate and set his bread on top of it. “What’s crawled up your trousers this morning?”
“Were you home all night when Koi was murdered?”
Tak swaggered to the island and mirrored Lakota’s position. “Is there something you want to ask me?”
“Can someone vouch for your whereabouts the whole night? That’s all I want to know. There’s talk in town, and your name was mentioned. Witnesses spotted you that night on someone else’s territory.”
“They mus
t have seen a ghost.”
“What about the murder before that? You were supposed to go to the bar with me that night, and you didn’t show up.”
“I told you I was busy.”
“I asked around, Tak. No one had seen you for hours. Kaota had gone up to your room to see if you wanted to go hunting in the morning, and you weren’t there.”
“Why didn’t you mention that?”
Lakota folded his arms. “Didn’t seem worth mentioning at the time. You’re the last person I would ever suspect of doing this, but if I find out you’re involved, I’ll have no choice but to go to your father.”
Tak’s lips thinned. “You have some nerve walking into our home like you own this place and threatening me. Do you have any idea what’ll happen if one of us is arrested for these crimes? They’ll take our land. It will ruin my father. You’re still an outsider, Sky Hunter. Don’t forget that.”
“All you have to do is give me an answer. That’s all I need so we can be square. Do you think I want to stand here and accuse my friend of murder? The truth is going to come out one way or the other.”
Tak straightened up, his expression stoic. “Brothers look out for each other. Do you think I would let people sully your good name—take their word over yours?”
“Are you giving me your word that you had nothing to do with the murders?”
“Why would I kill a woman? Have you forgotten my cousin was slaughtered?”
Lakota wanted to believe him, but Tak was lying about something. He could smell it. “Then where were you?”
Waving his hand, Tak walked away. “You’re a ghost to me. I don’t see you anymore.” Before Lakota could press the matter further, Tak left the room.
“Shit.” Lakota gripped the edge of the counter and contained his urge to kick something.
He knew better than to form real friendships while on the job. It made a person biased. But it had still killed him to stand there and accuse Tak of something so heinous. He needed to take a step back in order to conduct his investigation with integrity and honesty. It went beyond friendship or loyalty.
