by Rita Karnopp
“Come back over here…I smell it too. Why don’t you go inside the house and make sure everything is okay there. I’ll check…this out.”
“You don’t think my father—”
“No, I don’t. Joshua said he was at the mine and I believe him. Whoever it is…has been here for a while.” He flipped the switch and the entire porch light up.
The background drum beats increased and became louder and louder. Summer rushed forward grabbed his arm. “We need to get out of here now!” She opened the porch door and they ran, reaching the back side of the car before the entire front of the house exploded. The thunderous blast shook the ground, sending them both sprawling.
“You’ve got to be flipping kidding me!” Running Crane shouted above the horrendous noise of cracking wood and fire engulfing Summer’s childhood home.
She flicked the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. Everything was burning…all their pictures, mementos, childhood keepsakes, and all her native dancing clothes and…she stopped…they were only things. What about the body the fire would destroy? Was it Inn? Nah’ah? Bradley?
“We need to get out of here. Someone must have called the fire station already, I hear the sirens.” Running Crane opened the car door. “Wait, is that your dad’s car parked over by that shed?”
“Yes, why?” Summer looked over at her dad’s beloved red 1960 Pontiac GTO.
“That the car the two of you came back from Missoula in?”
“Again, yes, why?” She nearly ran to keep up with him as he headed toward the vehicle.
“Maybe your dad didn’t unload all your stuff.”
“I guess it’s worth checking. I’m sure he’s pretty ticked about that bullet chip in the windshield.” She hoped the idle chatter would take her mind off the fire and the encroaching vehicles.
“You check the front and I’ll check the back, then let’s get the hell out of here. We stay too long and we’ll be here hours answering questions. We just don’t have time for it.”
Running Crane had a point. She felt under the front seat and found nothing but a CD by Carrie Underwood. “Nothing up front,” she said, then slammed the door shut.
“But look what we have here. A box with pictures and such. Here’s your study lamp and a couple of blankets. That’s it except for this box of shoes stuffed behind the driver’s seat.” Running Crane pulled hard and set the box on the back seat. “Well look what’s sandwiched under that box.” He lifted a black duffle bag.
“That’s Jordan’s work-out bag,” she said. “Grab it and let’s get out of here.” They ran to the car. Running Crane spun gravel out in all directions as he raced down the dirt road, heading in the opposite direction of the fire and police.
She waited only seconds before digging through the bag. “Shoes, socks, gym shorts and jersey,” she said before dropping them on the floorboard. “Towel, head and wrist bands,” she said dropping them on top the already growing pile by her feet. “Racket and a couple of balls, deodorant and cologne.”
“Are there any side zippers?” Running Crane asked.
She moved her palm across first one side, then other. “Yep.” She pulled on the zipper and reached inside. “Gum, sun glasses, and…a package of condoms. Nice. That’s it…wait, there’s a zipper inside the zipper, she quickly opened it.”
“Well?”
She didn’t miss the impatience in his tone. “It’s a key.”
“Anything on it?”
She popped on the overhead light and looked it over. “It has twenty-four written on it, which is…was his lucky number.”
“I’ll bet that’s his locker at the gym. Is that everything…the bag’s empty?”
“Well, it’s empty but it still feels a little heavy.” She felt all over the inside and it truly was empty. She turned it over and examined the bottom, then upper rim and spotted another zipper that had been cleverly disguised as rubber base. “I think…wait a minute.” She located the inner zipper and slowly unzipped it. In her lap lay Jordan’s laptop computer.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“I’d say yes, except it’s too light to be his laptop. Could he have taken the guts out of it so he had a tight, secure place to hid those papers? We need one of those tiny screw drivers those IT guys use.”
“We’ll get some gas and I’ll pick up an emergency eye glass kit. They always have those small screw drivers.”
“Good idea.” She held the computer shell on her lap as though it might break.
Silence fell as Running Crane took the back streets to the outskirts of Browning. Her thoughts lingered on the fire; worrying about everything her father owned going up in smoke and uneasy over whose body was on that porch. Would the fireman find the remains and attempt to blame his or her death on her father?
Running Crane stopped at the last station and stepped out to gas-up the car.
Summer ran inside the convenience store and grabbed some cheese, crackers, water, wine, and a few snacks, plus a glasses kit without calling any attention to herself or the groceries. She wasn’t even recognized by the young girl working the register.
She struggled with the tiny screws on the computer and finally looked up at Running Crane, exasperated. Other than their headlights, darkness surrounded them. “You have any idea where we’re going?”
“You’re talking to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She gave him a sideways glanced, more than confused by his comment.
“I’ve asked you about three questions and you haven’t bothered to answer me once. I figured I must have done or said something to piss you off.”
“I’m sorry…I guess I’ve been a bit…preoccupied. I never heard you. I’m not getting very far on opening this thing. I got one screw out and it seems the rest are stripped. I’d like to toss it out the window!”
“Maybe he stripped them on purpose. Up ahead and a bit off the road is a nice private spot under a tree to stop and get some sleep. Maybe I can get that thing open and we’ll finally understand what’s really going on.”
“You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to learning the truth. I’m tired of being afraid and I’m more than tired of people getting killed. I wouldn’t make a very good outlaw. I don’t know how you do this kind of thing every day, Running Crane.”
“The past few days have been more than intense, and it’s not always like this. When all is said and done, this will have been the most demanding and complex case I’ve worked. If that computer holds the proof we need, it just might earn me an impressive promotion.”
Summer smiled. “Maybe they’ll offer you a job in New York or even Chicago in homicide. Somehow I just can’t imagine either place.”
“That’s not going to happen. Before my father died, I promised him I’d continue to bring truth and justice to our people. I love the ways of our people. I love our heritage. I want our young to see there is good in law and order. I want them to realize there are opportunities for the red man. They can do or become whatever they choose. If no one is there to teach them these things, they will not have ambition and will do nothing but drink or do drugs. I want better for our people.”
“I know what you mean. I…have forgotten your way of thinking. There was a time I wanted nothing more than to prove an Indian girl could leave the reservation and make a good life. I believed they had to leave in order to succeed and be happy. This whole ordeal has changed me…somewhere along the way I’ve felt a reconnection to our people and our ancestors. It’s like the spirits of the old ones have been guiding me…and helping me. I don’t think either of us would be alive if I hadn’t learned to listen to them. I suppose that sounds beyond strange?”
Running Crane eased the car under the heavy cover of several cottonwood trees and turned off the ignition. “That doesn’t sound strange at all. I’ve listened to the spirits of our ancestors since I was old enough to understand them. I knew I’d never stray far from our people. There are times my work takes me away, but I a
lways return. Did you know I bought some land just north of Browning and have started building a massive log house facing Chief Mountain? It’s located on the border between Glacier National Park and the Reservation near the northeast corner of the Park. The sale of the Reservation land is straight east of my place.” He flipped on the overhead light.
Summer looked at him and smiled. “James Welch wrote about the Chief Mountains…or what Fools Crow said about them years ago. I might not remember it word for word, but the description did stay in my mind because I’ve often stared at Chief Mountain and found myself captivated by it. He said White Man's Dog raised his eyes to the west and followed the Backbone of the World from north to south until he picked out Chief Mountain. It stood apart from the other mountains, not because it was taller than most but because it was strong with its square face. It became a landmark for all who passed by. He said it was more than a landmark to our Pikunis, Kainahs and Siksikas, the three tribes of the Blackfeet, because it was on top of Chief Mountain that the black horn skull pillows of the great warriors still lay. On those skulls Eagle Head and Iron Breast received their visions and their animal helpers who made them strong in spirit and fortunate in war.”
“What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?”
“Do you know anything more about Chief Mountain?” He took the computer case and mini-screw driver from Summer.
“Chief Mountain consists mainly of Precambrian limestone which thrusts over the top of Cretaceous shale. It results in the anomaly of having some of the oldest rocks on earth sitting on top of some of the youngest. I actually find that fascinating.” Summer rested her elbow on her thigh and pressed her chin into her palm.
“Didn’t Meriwether Lewis call it Tower Mountain on the Lewis and Clark Expedition?”
“Yes. It’s actually one of the earliest mountains in the area ever to be placed on a map, which happened in England around 1795 as King Mountain. In 1854, a state survey referred to the mountain as The Chief or King Mountain. And years ago a German geographer dubbed it as Kaiser Peak. The good news is today it’s appropriately named after our Blackfeet Indian names of Old Chief or The Mountain-of-the-Chief.” This was the first time Summer realized she loved talking about the land and history of her people. How could she not have felt the pride and need to share it before?
Running Crane pulled the final screw loose and the laptop back dropped. Papers flew in all directions. “I’ll be damned!”
“We did it, Running Crane. Grabbed them,” she said. Summer picked several pieces up from the floorboard and glanced up at him. “I’m almost afraid to read them.”
Chapter Thirteen
Running Crane gathered the papers and pictures and tapped the bottoms against his leg. “I don’t believe it, look at this picture.” He stared at Winter Timber Wolf and Germaine Worthington holding an infant and smiling for the photographer. He held the picture up toward Summer.
“My mother and Worthington have a baby together…could that be—”
“Domonique is your half-sister? She must be about ten years older than you. How did your parents meet?” He studied a rather quiet Summer.
“I…uh…some land development company was looking for Montana oil way back in the day and my father was part of a group that rallied against oil companies. His group was at a meeting in Vegas and met my mother. They were drinking some and dancing. He woke up married and didn’t remember a thing. He tried getting out of it by annulment, but she didn’t want to. He said he was embarrassed and didn’t tell a soul. He got an attorney and was prepared to prove it was a setup or scam when she said she was pregnant. Of course that was me.”
“Are you kidding? Really?”
“You have to swear never to tell anyone. There aren’t many people who know that story. Obviously the marriage was bad from the start. They had nothing in common and after I was born it just got worse. Strangest thing is she’s never remarried, just goes from relationship to relationship. I’ve always thought there was a reason, but it’s never made sense.”
“You think she tricked your father into marrying her to get away from Worthington?”
“She can’t be that afraid of him if she recently got information on him for Borden. Unless he didn’t know she was collecting information on him. She tricked him into believing she was coming back and once she got the…information she needed…she could blackmail—”
“Get revenge is more like it. What did he do to her that she needed to trick your father into marriage—”
“And move half way across the country? Good question. Maybe we’ll find the answer in all these papers.”
Running Crane flipped past several other pictures and stopped…nearly choked…then handed it over to Summer. “There are several others from different angles. I think we just answered all our questions regarding Worthington.”
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Domonique looks barely ten and that knife in her hand is specific with the intricate design carved in the side. It’d be easy to identify the owner—”
Summer cleared her throat. “And she’s definitely covered in her baby brother’s blood. Who would have taken this picture? That’s about the same time she met my father and married him.”
“Maybe the infant isn’t Worthington’s kid and he staged this to control her?”
“No, look at the mirror in the background. My mother is taking that picture. These pictures are her ace. I’ll bet she could put Worthington away for murder with these pictures. I wonder why she didn’t take Domonique with her.”
“Because she isn’t your mother’s child. The only way to get free of him was to get your father drunk and marry him. She didn’t take Domonique because she isn’t her daughter. Those pictures will not only destroy him…they’ll also destroy his daughter. Domonique was too young to know what was going on at the time of the murder, but you can be sure the stigma of these pictures would damage her emotionally and in the eyes of everyone who knows her.”
“This picture captures Worthington fleeing the room. Look at his hands!” Summer released the picture and it fell to her lap. She stared out the car window—into the pitch black of night.
“You’re right, this is beyond proof Worthington was not only there…his hands are covered in blood.” Running Crane gathered the pictures and placed them back into the computer cavity. Let’s check out these other documents.” He hoped to take her mind off the horrid pictures they’d just seen.
Summer turned her attention back to him. “Good idea. I’m beyond curious what’s here that will incriminate Borden.”
“Here’s a birth certificate that…Lawrence Anderson Borden—”
“What?”
“That boy was the son of Winter Lilly Anderson and Lawrence Robert Borden. This just keeps getting better and better.”
“This is about revenge. Their son is dead and they want Worthington to pay. Why didn’t they just turn these photos over to the police?”
“That would be too easy. They want him to suffer. Running Crane, I think they’re going after Domonique.”
“But why? At ten she can’t be held accountable for anything that man made her do.” He dropped the birth certificate on top the grotesque pictures.
“I saw the two of them together at Stonehouse and I’m telling you right now, they have a strained relationship, but it’s obvious he actually loves her. I think my mother and Borden are blinded by their hatred for Worthington. He murdered their son and the best way to make him pay—”
“Is to kill his only child and make him suffer the loss they’ve felt all these years.” Running Crane nodded. “We have to find her and—”
“She’ll never believe us. She thinks we’re out to get her father and of course rescue Nah’ah from him. Besides, how is all this connected to the land deal—”
“Well…well…well, lookie what we have here,” Running Crane handed a stack of papers toward Summer. “I knew there had to be more involved than oil lea
ses on Blackfeet land. It appears Lawrence Borden, the hardest working Democrat Senate member working for the Blackfeet people, is the owner of a huge Texas refinery.”
“No way! But Borden said nothing could be traced to him…that everything would point to Worthington. He has oil rigs in Texas, too.”
“This agreement and these sketches reveal plans to bury tons of drums of hazardous waste on Blackfeet Reservation land. Hazardous waste has to go somewhere at a staggering cost…but having an oil rig on the edge of Blackfeet land, little control, and even less scrutiny—”
“Until Nah’ah.”
“My thoughts exactly. Borden is setting Worthington up here. He’d most likely never serve a day for that child’s murder. It happened…what? Twenty years ago and without a witness…statutes of limitation and all that. They had to find another way to make him pay.” Running Crane handed over a document. “Here’s the original land contract that buys the northernmost area of the Blackfeet Reservation. Borden’s right, it’s signed by Worthington and Kevin Wild Horse.”
“So, Worthington was in-fact looking for oil property to lease. My guess is Borden made sure Worthington found out about oil leasing in Montana. After seeing the land core sample results, he bought the land for the rich vein of gold instead.” Summer flipped through the land contact. “He doesn’t have a clue Borden and my mother are spear-heading this deal…setting Worthington up for a lifetime behind bars.”
Running Crane reached down and pushed the driver’s seat back. “I think you’re right. My guess is he talked Domonique into getting Bradley Wild Horse interested in her so she could manipulate the land deal.” Summer looked up and nodded. She looked incredibly soft and alluring in the moonlight and he struggled to keep from kissing her.
“But after seeing the way she pleaded for Bradley’s life, I’d say she never meant to fall in love with him, but she did. Once Bradley was involved, he had to convince his father to sell Blackfeet land—”
