Tribal Court (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 2)

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Tribal Court (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 2) Page 18

by Stephen Penner


  Brunelle put his hands on her waist and pulled her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her fingers through his hair. Their lips parted and he tasted her delicious tongue. She moaned lightly into his mouth, which only made him pull her tighter against him. He lowered his hands down her back and onto her pants, her curves filling his palms, her face filling his mind.

  "Wait." She pushed him away suddenly, her breath racing. "Whoa. We need to slow down."

  Brunelle's heart was racing too. "What? Why? Did I do something wrong?"

  He'd barely done anything at all.

  "No, no. That's not it," Kat assured. "It's just…"

  She put a hand on his chest. "Slow," she said. "I need slow. Okay?"

  Brunelle put his hands around her waist again. It took a moment for the blood to return to his brain, but his heart knew the right answer. "Okay. Of course."

  He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

  Kat exhaled deeply and laid her head on his chest. "Thanks. Sorry. It's just— It's been a while since Lizzy's dad and I divorced. Long enough, I know, but still…"

  Brunelle stroked her hair. "No need to apologize. I'm not going to worry about where we're going, or how fast we get there. I'm just glad you're here right now."

  Kat lifted her head and looked him the eye. "You damn lawyers. I never know if you mean what you say, or you just always try to say the right thing."

  Brunelle smiled. "Maybe it's both."

  Kat narrowed her eyes, then rested her head on his chest again. "Maybe," she sighed. "But I doubt it."

  They stood there for a while, Kat's head on his chest, and Brunelle looking through the gauze at the city lights. He didn't say anything. He knew sometimes the right thing to say is nothing.

  Finally Kat asked, without lifting her head, "Can we go for a walk?"

  Brunelle thought for a moment about all the other things he'd rather be doing with her. "Of course. That sounds nice."

  She looked up at him again. "You're a terrible liar."

  He shrugged.

  She pushed up on her toes and kissed him. "Thanks."

  He stole one more kiss back. "Don't thank me for something I want to do. A friend told me that once." He pulled away and took her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

  ~*~

  It was a nice night. The sky had cleared a bit, revealing a handful of stars and a thin moon glowing dimly behind broken clouds. Brunelle and Kat walked hand-in-hand along the industrial road that led under the freeway toward the casino and the more residential area behind it. It was cold enough that Kat leaned into him for warmth. He thought about letting go of her hand so he could put his arm around her, but there was something about holding her hand. It just felt right.

  "So, is Lizzy doing a Nutcracker this year?" he asked.

  Kat looked up at him. "Now why would you ask that?"

  "Well, I remember she did ballet," he said. "And it's fall. Don't they start having practices soon?"

  Kat laughed lightly. "They're not practices," she said. "They're rehearsals. And yes, they've already started."

  She swung their hands back and forth.

  "I'm just surprised," she went on. "You finally get me alone. I freak out, so we're on a romantic walk, holding hands. And you ask about my daughter."

  Brunelle thought for a moment. "Well," he shrugged, "she's a pretty important part of your life."

  "She sure is."

  "Well then. I care too."

  Kat stopped and pulled on his hand. "More trying to say the right thing?"

  Brunelle shook his head. "More trying to say the truth."

  Kat stared at him through narrowed eyes.

  "What are you thinking?" he asked.

  "I'm trying to decide whether to believe you."

  "Maybe this will help." He leaned down and kissed her.

  "That never helps," she giggled. "What am I going to do with you?"

  Brunelle had some ideas, but just then his phone rang.

  "Eh…" he hesitated. "It might be Chen. I was supposed to call him."

  "Go ahead and answer it," Kat said and she pulled them back into their stroll.

  Brunelle looked at the screen. "Yep, it's Chen." He pressed the screen. "Hey, Larry. What's up?"

  "Mulholland just called me," Chen said rapidly. "Hernandez is dead. They unplugged him a hour ago."

  Brunelle pulled them to a stop.

  Kat looked up at him. "What is it?"

  "There's more," Chen said. "It gets worse."

  Just then a car came squealing around the corner and accelerated toward them. Brunelle could see the figure of someone leaning out of the driver's window, a gun in his hand.

  "Gotta go, Larry. Call 911 for us."

  "Us?" Brunelle heard Chen ask as he hung up the phone and pulled Kat into a sprint.

  Chapter 46

  "David!" Kat screamed. "What's going on?"

  "Just come on!" Brunelle pulled her hand harder as the car accelerated toward them.

  "I'm in heels, you jackass!" She tried to yank her hand away, but Brunelle held on tight.

  "Then kick them off," he yelled. "And run as fast as you can."

  "Why?"

  The first shot rang out. Brunelle instinctively ducked although he knew it would have been too late by the time he heard the shot. It missed them. Thank God.

  Kat finally understood the urgency of their situation. At least in part.

  "Holy shit! Somebody's shooting at us." She kicked off her shoes and sprinted even ahead of Brunelle.

  "It's that car," he said, catching up with her.

  "Then let's go somewhere a car can't," she said and ran toward the locked gate of the tribal cemetery. "We can squeeze through the bars, but a car won't be able to get through."

  They ran as fast as they could and disappeared through the iron bars just as the car careened around the corner and screeched to a halt in front of the cemetery.

  They ducked behind a large tree near the entrance, both out of breath.

  "I think we're safe now," Kat panted.

  Brunelle shook his head in the dark. "Not necessarily."

  A light spilled out of the car as the driver opened his door and got out. He closed it again and disappeared into the gloom in front of the graveyard. After a moment, they could hear the gate clank as their pursuer pushed through the bars too.

  "Come on," Brunelle whispered and grabbed Kat by the hand. They took off running up the hillside the cemetery occupied.

  There were no lights so they had to navigate by the dim glow of the surrounding streetlights and what little moonlight filtered through the clouds.

  "Ow!" Kat whispered as she banged into a grave marker. "Where are we going?"

  "To the top of the hill."

  "I can see that. Why?"

  "To hide."

  "Where?"

  Good question. "I don't know."

  They could hear the shooter's steps behind them, squelching in the wet grass. He swore once as he too presumably ran into a headstone. Brunelle and Kat reached the top the hill and the back gate. They slipped through those iron bars too, but not without clanking, so any hope their pursuer might have stayed behind, searching the dark graveyard in vain, was lost.

  "Where now?" Kat asked, scanning the street that ran behind the cemetery.

  "There." Brunelle pointed to the house across the street. The one he'd seen for sale on his first day to the reservation. Maybe the back door was left unlocked for showings. They didn't have a lot of options.

  He tugged her across the street and behind a row of privacy bushes most likely designed to block the cemetery from the view of the front yard. Finger to his lips to indicate silence, he led them to the back of the house. Sure enough, it was unlocked. As quietly as he could, Brunelle opened the door and they stepped inside. He closed it silently behind them and locked it, the deadbolt letting out a louder clank than he would have liked.

  He took Kat's hand and led her deeper into the house
. It was a two-story, so they took the stairs leading up from the front door, and quickly climbed to the top floor. They glided across the carpet and crouched in the back of one of the upstairs bedrooms.

  "Please tell me you started carrying a gun like you said you would," Kat whispered.

  Brunelle frowned. "It's in my hotel room. I can't wear it to court, so I always forget it."

  "Hell of a time to forget it."

  "We might not need it anyway. I think we may have lost him."

  Then they heard the front door open.

  Fuck. I didn't think they'd both be unlocked.

  A moment later, footsteps began ascending the stairs.

  Chapter 47

  "Oh, no," Kat whispered. "What are we going to do?"

  Brunelle looked around. Dim moonlight barely lit the room. "Get in the closet. It's me he's after."

  "Who is, David?"

  "Just do as I say."

  "But David…"

  "Do it."

  Kat stared at him. In the pale light, he could see the tears glinting in her eyes. She nodded, then stood up and slipped into the closet. Brunelle stood up too, just as Johnny Quilcene stepped into the doorway.

  "Brunelle," he said flatly. He flipped on the light switch, temporarily blinding Brunelle. "Hernandez says hi."

  Quilcene had a semi-auto leveled right at Brunelle's chest. Large caliber by the looks of it.

  "I thought Hernandez was dead," Brunelle replied, trying to sound brave.

  "He is," Quilcene seethed. "Thanks to you."

  "Me? I didn't have anything to do with him getting shot."

  "Sure," Quilcene scoffed. "And your fat prosecutor friend didn't stab Bobby either."

  "Well, I'm still not sure about that," Brunelle replied. "I actually thought he did it too. But now I'm not so sure."

  Brunelle thought for a moment. "Is that why you shot him when he stepped out of the police station? Because you thought he killed your cousin?"

  "He did kill my cousin," Quilcene shouted. "And I didn't shoot him. Hernandez did." He flashed an evil smile. "I was just driving."

  Brunelle nodded. "Well, an accomplice is guilty of the same crime as the principal."

  Quilcene shook the gun. "Shut up, Brunelle. It's time to end this blood feud."

  Brunelle threw his hands wide. "Are you fucking kidding me? Blood feud? You really bought into that bullshit?"

  Quilcene seemed shaken by Brunelle's reaction. "Yeah, well, not at first. I didn't stick Traver because of no fucking blood feud bullshit. I stuck him because he diddled my niece. Fuck him. You don't fucking touch my niece. Nobody touches my family"

  Brunelle nodded. "Yeah, I kinda knew that. So what's with the blood feud crap?"

  Quilcene narrowed his eyes. "The blood feud started when your fucking partner stabbed my cousin. That was him taking blood revenge. Him and you were taking Traver's side."

  "I never took Traver's side," Brunelle protested. "Between you and me, I'm glad he's gone. But you can't just go kill somebody."

  "Tell that to your partner," Quilcene shot back. "At least Traver fucking deserved it. Bobby didn't do nothing to deserve a knife in his chest."

  Brunelle thought for a moment. He guessed Quilcene's gang-banger cousin had probably done more than enough in his life to deserve a knife in the chest, but he decided against saying as much. "I'm sure he didn't. But I'm pretty sure Freddy didn't kill him either."

  "How would you know that?"

  "Because I accused him of it. I thought he'd done it and I told him that. He denied it and stormed out of the police station. That's when you—or Hernandez, I guess—shot him."

  Then Brunelle realized something. "How did you know Freddy was even there?"

  Quilcene smiled again. "I got a tip."

  "A tip?" Brunelle's brow furrowed. "From who?"

  "Same guy who tipped me off that Hernandez was dead and you was walking down by the casino."

  The furrow deepened. "Who, Johnny?"

  Quilcene opened his mouth, but then didn't say anything. Instead, his face twisted into a pained grimace. A moment later, his eyes rolled up and his arm dropped down, the gun falling to the floor just before he did the same.

  From out of the darkness behind him stepped Sixrivers, a simple hunting knife his hand, its blade glistening with blood.

  Kat burst out of the closet. "Tommy! Oh, thank God it's you. Thank you. Thank you."

  Sixrivers screwed up his face at her. "Kat? What are you doing here?"

  She ran a hand through her hair. "Long story, Tommy. I'll tell you back at the precinct. Thank God Larry called you."

  Sixrivers shook his head. "Chen didn't call me."

  "Of course he didn't," Brunelle said, pulling Kat against him.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. "Why not?"

  "Because," Brunelle answered, his eyes fixed on Sixrivers, "Tommy is the one behind all this."

  Chapter 48

  "What?" Kat exclaimed. "Don't be ridiculous. Tommy just saved us."

  "No," Brunelle corrected. "Tommy just silenced Quilcene before he could tell us that Tommy was the one who tipped him off about Freddy and then me."

  Kat forced a laugh. "Come on, David. That's ridiculous." She turned to Sixrivers. "Tell him, Tommy."

  Sixrivers' eyes were locked with Brunelle's "That's ridiculous," he said flatly.

  "See?" Kat said, her voice cracking slightly. "It's ridiculous."

  "But it's true," Brunelle said.

  Kat looked at Sixrivers.

  "Yep," Sixrivers said. "But it's true."

  Then he looked at Kat. "Damn it, Kat. You weren't supposed to be here. This would have ended it."

  "Ended what?" she asked.

  "The blood feud," Brunelle answered. "I get that now. You stabbed Quilcene's cousin. How'd you get the knife?"

  "I didn't. Not for Bobby." Sixrivers waved the knife in his hand. "I used this one. Same size, roughly. But when I heard there'd been some confusion up there and you thought Quilcene's antique knife had gone missing, I got an idea. I went there and pretended to drop off property on a nonexistent case. When they told me there was no such case, I talked them into letting me look through the property room. I am a detective after all."

  Brunelle recalled Chen's text. Knife theft WAS an inside job. Sort of.

  "Then I planted it in your hotel room," Sixrivers said. "I figured getting arrested would finally scare you away. But I guess you're just too stupid."

  "I guess so," Brunelle agreed. "'Cause I still don't understand why."

  "Traver was a piece of shit," Sixrivers said. "He deserved to die, and you know it. When Johnny told me what Traver had done, it didn't take long to locate him up in Seattle, but Seattle P.D. wouldn't let me touch him. They said he was too valuable as an informant."

  "Yeah, that was pretty shitty," Brunelle agreed. Kat remained silent, eyes wide.

  "Yeah, real shitty," Sixrivers replied. "And my boss told me to stop wasting time on a case we couldn't prove. So I let Johnny know where Traver was and reminded him ballistics could be traced." Sixrivers shook his head. "But the dumb ass left the knife behind. Who leaves the fucking knife behind?"

  "It got stuck in a rib," Kat explained reflexively.

  Sixrivers nodded, then surrendered a sad smile. "Thanks. But it meant he got caught. And if he got caught, he'd talk. Eventually. I thought he would have thrown me under the bus right away, but I'll give the kid credit. He kept his mouth shut. Then that hotshot lawyer came up with the blood revenge defense and I got an idea."

  "What idea, Tommy?" Kat asked. Brunelle had already figured it out.

  "If Johnny walked," Sixrivers explained, "he'd have no reason to talk. So why not give his lawyer's bullshit theory some real support. And I got to take out a couple of gang members as a bonus."

  "But what about Freddy?" Kat demanded.

  "Yeah." Sixrivers shrugged. "That was too bad. Cost of doing business."

  "Doing business?" Kat yelled. "You fucking killed him." />
  "No," he replied as he transferred the knife to his left hand and picked Quilcene's gun off the floor. "Hernandez killed him."

  "And you killed Hernandez," Brunelle realized. "And now Quilcene. No more witnesses."

  "Almost no more witnesses," Sixrivers corrected. He reached down and pulled Quilcene's gun out from under the body. "It's a shame I couldn't stop Quilcene from killing you two. But don't worry, I got here right after he shot you and we struggled. I ended up stabbing him in the back with his own knife."

  He leveled Qulicene's gun at Brunelle's chest. "Goodbye, Brunelle. You should've stayed off the reservation."

  A shot rang out.

  "No!" screamed Kat.

  Brunelle grabbed his chest. But there was no gunshot wound. No pain. He looked at Sixrivers. He was too close to have missed.

  Sixrivers teetered, then crumpled forward onto Quilcene's body, blood staining the center of his back where he'd been shot.

  Detective Mulholland raised his cell phone to his ear as he stepped into the light of the bedroom. "They're okay, Larry. We got here just in time. They're okay."

  Epilogue

  Brunelle walked into the coffee shop again. He didn't know the address; he couldn't even remember its name. He'd had to start at Talon's office and retrace his steps. The café held the same late afternoon atmosphere. Dishes clinking, espresso steaming, commuters in line to fuel up for their drives home. His date waited at the same table he'd sat at before. When he approached, she looked up.

  "Hello, Mr. Brunelle," Kat said. "So nice to see you again."

  He tipped his head to her and sat down. "The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Anderson."

  "Maybe later," she joked. "For now, let's stick to coffee."

  Brunelle laughed and looked around. "So why did you insist on this place? Were you down here for something else?"

  "No," Kat smiled. "I'm claiming it. I don't want you to have a place you met another woman while standing me up. Now this is the place you and I had coffee after you met another woman here while standing me up."

  Brunelle nodded. "I wondered why you wouldn't tell me over the phone. Very logical. As well as manipulative and controlling."

 

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