Death Etched in Stone

by C. M. Wendelboe

  “You’re not entirely off the hook,” Manny said. “Your evidence tech still collected samples and processed the secondary crime scene at Oglala Lake. And this does tie in with Nate Yellow Bull. Who, if you remember, was murdered on your reservation. And probably Kyle Wells when he’s finally found.”

  “So, the FBI’s got jurisdiction over homicides on the rez,” Lumpy said.

  “Then I might need Willie’s help.”

  “He’s got drug cases up the wazoo.”

  “There’s that ‘wazoo’ again,” Willie said.

  Lumpy ignored Willie. “I’ll free him up to help as soon as he gets his own cases cleared. Until then, we’ll turn over what we have on Nate Yellow Bull and Joey One Feather. It’s the best I can do.”

  Manny knew Willie would find time to help. He always did. But he couldn’t tell Lumpy that. “Did you put out a pick and hold on Bobo?”

  “Just by accident,” Lumpy said, “we rubes do something right now and again. Rapid City PD’s watching the D&D, and we put out a five state BOLO for Bobo yesterday. He’ll turn up. They always do.”

  “We want him to turn up before he finds Shawna.”

  Lumpy shook his head, and his black bangs fell over his forehead. He took out his comb and straightened his hair. “You still think your felon brother can protect her?”

  “Reuben can protect her better than we can,” Manny insisted. “It’s just that he won’t tell us where he’s hiding her now.”

  “Well, we have to find her before Tony gets released.”

  Manny raised his eyebrows. “Who says he’ll be released? I thought Wyoming charged him with Johnny’s murder?”

  “They did.” Willie braved a stale donut, and refilled his coffee mug, before he sat back down beside Manny. “Neville’s already filed for reduced bail on Tony’s murder charge. Wyoming’s going to counter by arguing that since Tony’s a resident of a sovereign nation, namely the Oglala Sioux Tribe, that he could go to the rez and the state wouldn’t be able touch him.”

  “But Neville can be pretty persuasive.” Lumpy added. “He comes in to the bail hearings with his bone choker and flowing locks drooping down his beaded shirt, spewing how the wasicu are prejudiced against us skins. You watch, he’ll shame the judge into lowering the bail. Or releasing Tony on his own recognizance.”

  “Is he still in the hospital?”

  “He’ll be transferred to the county jail this afternoon, from what I hear,” Willie said.

  Manny turned to Pee Pee. “Can you release that tape from Tony’s answering machine?”

  Pee Pee shrugged. “I could. Who to?”

  “I’m playing a hunch,” Manny said, “that, once Tony hears that recording of Johnny’s voice asking him to come to Fort Washakie, that’ll loosen him up. Make a confession on the spot.”

  “So, drive over to the Johnson County lockup and play the tape.”

  “I can’t. It’s four hours over there, and I have to meet Brandi Apple at Neville’s office. Can you send Willie?”

  “Willie?” Lumpy checked his watch and headed for the door. “I don’t know if you looked, but the last I did, Willie’s jurisdiction ended at the reservation line.”

  “I can call ahead and have DCI Agent McDonald meet him at the hospital,” Manny argued.

  “But Tony’s already invoked,” Willie said. “McDonald won’t be able to ask him anything without Neville present.”

  “He might if you show up. Look,” he faced Lumpy, “Tony’s been raised traditionally. I don’t look like I have been, but Willie does. It just might be enough for Tony to rescind, once he hears the tape.”

  “But Johnny Apple’s death isn’t even a reservation case,” Lumpy said.

  “Just bend this once,” Manny prodded. “Consider it assisting another agency. And maybe I’ll put a bug in someone’s ear before the tribal council makes their decision on permanent chief.”

  “Okay, just this once. But tell me where you’re at, so I can give the tribal council some kind of progress report.”

  “You can’t tell them the particulars.”

  “I know that,” Lumpy said. “I just need enough to keep them off my ass.

  “Willie,” Manny said, letting him explain what they’d talked about.

  Willie stood like he was instructing a jury, and paced in front of the conference table, gathering his thoughts. “Nate and Shawna stole Bobo’s car, and drove it to Oglala Lake—”

  “The council already knows that. Give me something new.”

  “They witnessed a man—looked like Tony—dumping Johnny Apple’s body in the water. We think Tony rented a car from Hertz, drove to Fort Washakie, and took Johnny to the Thermopolis bath house by way of Legend Rock and drowned him there. He drove the car with Johnny’s body in the trunk to the lake, dumped him, and spotted Nate sneaking in for a better look.” He looked to Manny. “Anything else?”

  Manny nodded. “I think the murder at the Wyoming State Bath House was impromptu. The opportunity arose, and Johnny was killed hastily. The killer—again, more than likely Tony—locked the clerk in the bath house, and hastily grabbed Johnny’s clothes before stuffing the body in the trunk.”

  “But he forgot Johnny’s socks.”

  Lumpy threw up his hands. “Well, there it is! I can tell the council we recovered a dead man’s pair of socks. Not that it matters, but explain that attorney over there dying like he did.”

  “When Hertz recovered their abandoned Lincoln from the mall parking lot, there were enough miles put on to cover two round trips to Lander.”

  “We’re thinking Tony returned after dumping Johnny and visited Devlon Thomas. He’s been around criminals enough that he’d know cranking the heat up would skew time of death estimate.”

  “I thought you said the safe was locked?” Lumpy said. “How did Tony know the combination?”

  “Only two explanations is Lucille was mistaken about Thomas locking his safe that day,” Willie said, “or Tony had an accomplice. Like Bobo.”

  Lumpy laughed. “Bobo’s a nasty bastard, but he’s no safe man. Even if he did spend . . .” Lumpy looked at Bobo’s rap sheet, “twelve years doing hard time. No, Bobo found Kyle and Joey and they told him about Nate.”

  “And when Nate called up, blackmailing Tony,” Willie said, “his friend Bobo paid Nate a visit at the casino.”

  “Only trouble with those scenarios,” Lumpy said—and waited until the room was drop dead quiet, “is if Tony didn’t kill Johnny. And someone else did.”

  “Like Bobo?” Willie asked.

  Lumpy shrugged. “That’s what the Hot Shot investigator there is going to find out.” He started for the door, when he turned back to Willie. “You go over to Johnson County and interview Tony. Just keep it quiet. If the tribal council finds out I sent you all the way over to Buffalo to interview a suspect on a Wyoming case, they’ll have my jewels in a bag.”

  Manny sighed deeply. “All the same to you, I’d rather not be the one to have to haul that sack around.”

  *****

  Willie walked Manny out to the parking lot and held the door for him. “I got a dog bite. I’m not an invalid.”

  “I’m just looking out for you,” Willie said. “So where do we go from here? I’m trying to put together Bobo’s connection with Johnny’s death.”

  Manny sat in the seat but didn’t close the door as he tapped the dash with his fist. “Tony and Bobo are buds. That’s got to be the only the connection.”

  “Tony had to have gotten home somehow from the bar that night,” Willie said.

  “How’s that?” Manny asked.

  “The Lincoln wasn’t reported abandoned at the mall until later the next day. If Tony drove Johnny’s body to Oglala Lake and dumped him in, he would have had to drive like hell to Lander to kill Devlon Thomas.”

  “We’ve already figu
red out it could be done.”

  “And after he dumped the car at the mall, how’d he get home? Because he sure didn’t walk more than a hundred miles to the rez.”

  “We’ll have to ask him. If Neville allows him to talk.” Manny started the car and flipped the heater on.

  “Why is Bobo so hot to find Shawna?”

  “Maybe he’s helping his pal Tony out.” Manny warmed his hands over the defrost. “Remember Shawna talking about that night at the lake. She said Nate put the sneak on the guy when he was dumping Johnny’s body. When Nate came back, he was even more scared because he recognized the guy. Tony was in the bar that night when Nate and Shawna stopped in. Nate would have recognized Tony, though he didn’t tell Shawna who the guy was with the Lincoln.”

  “And Tony recognized Nate, according to Shawna,” Willie said. “And if he recognized Nate from the bar earlier, he had to have suspected Shawna was with him.”

  “And along comes Bobo, looking for his dope. If he can find Shawna and protect his friend Tony, all the better for him,” Willie said.

  “All the more reason for Reuben to keep her hidden.” Manny shut the door, when Willie rapped on the window. Manny rolled it down and stuck his head out.

  “Clara called Doreen with bad news.”

  “Which is?”

  “Clara’s been keeping track of the money we had budgeted,” Willie said, “helping Doreen make the arrangements. She went through all the money we saved for the wedding.”

  “What! You’ve been saving for a year. How could that happen?”

  “One too many stops at the bridal boutique. Then there’s the caterer: Doreen decided on prime rib rather than finger sandwiches.”

  Manny patted Willie’s hand. “I’m sure the wedding will be memorable anyway.”

  “That’s the problem,” Willie said. “It will be memorable.”

  “You don’t sound very happy about it,” Manny said.

  “Because now that we’re over budget, Clara made arrangements for the only band we could afford to play at the dance: Pee Pee’s group.”

  “You could have done worse,” Manny said. “They’re actually pretty good.”

  “But imagine—just imagine—our wedding photos in front of the banner with the name of Pee Pee’s band splattered across it.”

  Manny laughed. “I see your point. But in fifty years, you will look back on it and see how funny it is.”

  “It might take me fifty years just to be able to show my face in public after that.”

  Chapter 36

  Manny parked across the street from Neville’s law office, waiting for Brandi to arrive. He resisted the temptation to scratch the stitches from the dog bite, instead reliving the events of last night to distract himself. Sitting at Indian Health getting stitched up last night, he shuddered to think what would have happened if the dog hadn’t alerted him to Bobo: Homer would have been sleeping peaceably late at night when Bobo broke in. The old man wouldn’t have known where Joey had hidden the dope. But Bobo wouldn’t have believed him. And this morning the tribal police would have responded to a homicide at Homer One Feather’s house.

  Lumpy had sent out another BOLO with a description of Bobo’s car last night. Roads had been watched. Residences in Rapid checked. Associates of the bar owner contacted. There had been more sightings of Bobo Groves than there have been of Elvis. Still, he eluded law enforcement, and Manny kept looking over his shoulder expecting him to come sneaking up on him and finish the job he started. Especially since Manny was parked but a few doors down from the D&D across from Neville’s office.

  At nearly five o’clock, Brandi pulled to the curb in front of Neville’s office. Red Keds and White Hair, sensing an easy mark, emerged from around the corner, a glint in their begging eyes. Until they spotted Manny. They turned around and headed back around the building when Manny called after them. “You guys eat?”

  “Today?” the older man said, stopping, but not turning to face Manny.

  “What did you eat?”

  Silence.

  “Guess not much.” Manny took out his money clip and peeled off a ten spot. He walked to White Hair and handed it to him. “You guys go to that Taco John’s and have a bite to eat.”

  Red Keds eyed the money and wiped his hand across his mouth.

  “I’ll check up on you two peckerwoods, to make sure you ate on it instead of buying booze. If I find you went to the liquor store, I’ll hunt you down.”

  Red Keds’s head dropped, but White Hair started for Taco John’s. “Not to worry, Agent Tanno. We’ll eat on it.”

  Red Keds fell in behind, and they started down the street when Manny called them back. “Have you guys seen Tony Charging Bear here lately?”

  White Hair started speaking, but Red Keds elbowed him. White Hair elbowed him back. “Sure, he was here couple days ago. He was carrying a battery. Stuffed it in a beater pickup behind Neville’s office.” They described the pickup. Brandi heard Manny mumble that it was the same one that Tony had been driving when he’d tried forcing Manny into that mountain ravine.

  “Where did Neville get the truck?”

  “Payment for some attorney fee,” White Hair answered. “He’s got a couple more in back.”

  “Hope Tony don’t get them,” Red Keds said. “They come in handy if I want to crash when it’s cold.” They looked dreamily toward the back of the office building before continuing to Taco John’s.

  Manny walked to Brandi’s car and opened the door. “Are you ready for this?”

  She took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Manny led her into the building. Tinker Bell over the door announced them. “Back here,” Neville yelled. When they rounded the corner and entered his office, he looked up from paperwork on his desk and scowled at Manny. “I didn’t expect you here. If you want to talk about Tony, it’ll have to wait.”

  “The least you can tell me is when he came and got that old pickup out back.”

  Neville’s eyes narrowed. “I saw it was gone. Tony knows where I keep the keys. If he got it, he must have needed wheels. But I don’t know when he was here. I didn’t talk with him. Is this is why you came here today at . . . ” Neville checked his watch, “closing time?”

  Manny pulled the only other chair in the cluttered room over for Brandi to sit. He remained standing, careful not to brush against anything with thick dust covering it. “Actually, I’m here with Brandi.”

  Neville’s eyebrows came together, and he leaned over the desk. He pulled his ball cap down farther and turned his chair so he could face Brandi. “You need the FBI here?”

  “I needed somebody. He’s not here officially. He’s the only person I knew in Rapid.”

  “Fair enough.” Neville stood, and opened the small fridge. He took out water and handed one to Brandi. “Water?” he asked Manny.

  Manny waved the water away, and Neville sat back in his chair, cradling his own bottle. He fidgeted with the wide beaded watchband on his left wrist. “What’s so important you had to drive all the way over here with an FBI agent as a witness? Tony’s bail hearing is tomorrow, and I have to drive to Worland early. Couldn’t it have waited?”

  Brandi’s face turned red. “I didn’t know Tony was in jail. I didn’t know he tried running Agent Tanno off the road, until he just mentioned it.”

  Neville glared at Manny. “Alleged to have run. It was an accident. Now you’re here because of . . . ?”

  She opened her purse and took out a folded manila envelope. She paused, appearing to mull it over before handing it to Neville.

  “What’s this?”

  “My father’s new will.”

  “Uncle Johnny didn’t have a new will,” Neville said as he opened the envelope and took the will out. “I did all Uncle Johnny’s legal work. I wrote his will right after Dad died, not that he had an
ything to pass along. He never wrote a new one.”

  “Until this last week,” Brandi said. “He saw another attorney. Devlon Thomas.”

  “I see.” Neville studied the water bottle through the dim office light. “I heard he was murdered two nights ago.”

  “How’d you hear about that?” Manny asked. “Did Tony mention it by any chance?”

  Neville’s eyes narrowed, and he pushed a Rapid City Journal paper across the desk. A story on page two, under the headline Foul death in Riverton, Wyo: Local attorney killed in broad daylight, had details about Thomas’s death.

  “So, if you’re trying to implicate Tony in this . . . ”

  “We’ll talk about Tony in a moment. Right now, Brandi wants to tell you about her father’s will.”

  Neville donned half-glasses as he unfolded the paper and studied the report from the Denver seismograph firm. “This report says there’s methane under Dad’s land?”

  “It does,” Brandi said.

  Neville smiled wide. “That’s great.”

  “But Dad changed his will. He took the mineral rights from you and Tony and gave them to me.”

  “I see that.” Neville sat back in his chair and downed his water. He tossed the empty bottle in the trash. “You’re going to be rich. What’s not to like about that?”

  “You’re not angry?” Brandi asked.

  Neville leaned over the desk and rested his hand on Brandi’s. “That place of Dad’s over on Wind River never was much for raising livestock. Or anything else. Oh, I know Aunt Della’s worked her tail off making something of it. But I’ve had no desire to move onto the place, and Tony’s got his own farm here.” He dropped Johnny’s paperwork on the desk, and Manny picked up the seismograph report. “You can look at that outside,” Neville said to him. “While we have some privacy?”

  Manny nodded. “I’ll be out in the hall if you need anything.”

  “Shut the door behind you,” Neville told him.

  Manny stepped into the hall and walked to a single dim light while he read the seismograph report. Brandi was right: the report detailed a significant methane deposit underground.