Hallowed Ground (Julie Collins Series #2)

by Lori G. Armstrong

  “I’ve been followed, threatened, assaulted. I’ve had to deal with pissed off bikers, angry ranchers, my father, the sheriff, mob bodyguards, and a cowboy posse. Not to mention witnessing a man getting shot right in front of me and stumbling onto a gruesome murder scene that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  I took a breath.

  “This case has been an absolute fucking nightmare from day one. And I still haven’t been able to do the one thing I was hired to do: find Chloe Black Dog.”

  That shut him up.

  Silence stretched until I wanted to scream.

  “But the good news is I saved fifteen percent on my car insurance by switching to Geico.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile.

  I sighed. Screw it. Screw him. I collected my cigarettes and stashed them in my purse as I rose to my feet.

  “The bottom line? I’m in way over my head. I’m not exactly an old pro at this PI stuff, Kev, and you haven’t been around to mentor me. So, I apologize if I’ve made bad decisions. Write me an official reprimand and stick it in my employee file. But I will not sit here and let you berate me as an outlet for your grief over Lilly.”

  By his look of incredulity, followed by the hard glint in his eyes, I knew I’d overstepped my bounds.

  “Like you’ve never taken your grief out on me? How many times, no, how many years have I suffered alongside you? Am I even allowed to grieve, or is that strictly your milieu?”

  The fact he was right didn’t make the truth easier to swallow.

  “Dirty pool, Kevin. While it won’t do any good to defend myself, I will say that I didn’t ‘take out’ my grief on you. I let you in, which is a helluva lot more than you’ve let me do for you in the last few months.”

  He closed his eyes. “Shit.”

  I swept by him.

  “Julie, wait—”

  “No. I’m done waiting. Lock the door and set the alarm when you leave. I won’t be back today.”

  My mantra of don’t cry, don’t cry didn’t work. Tears leaked past my defenses anyway. At least when Kevin wasn’t around we didn’t fight and I could pretend everything was lollipops and rainbows. Whatever ground we’d gained in getting our partnership back on track, we’d lost in the last half hour.

  If this was another issue we’d sweep aside, pretty soon the bumps under the proverbial rug would trip us both.

  After I’d calmed down I stopped in the sheriff’s office. Missy and I chatted amiably, more so than when we’d worked together. Without questioning why I was there, she ushered me into Sheriff Richard’s office and closed the door.

  “I’m surprised to see you.” His gaze zeroed in on the Styrofoam box in my hand. “Whatcha got there?”

  “A piece of heaven.” I opened the lid. Sugar, yeast, and cinnamon scented the air.

  He licked his lips. “Must be a pretty important favor if you’re bribing me with a warm cinnamon roll.”

  “It is.” I pointed to his coffee cup. “Need a refill?”

  “Now you’ve got me scared. Julie Collins offering to wait on me? Snowing in hell for sure.”

  “Ha ha.”

  He held out his mug.

  I poured us each a fresh cup. As he ate, I sat in the visitor’s chair and watched him.

  Clean-shaven, hair slicked back, tan uniform pressed. Only the luggage beneath his eyes gave credence to my theory he hadn’t had much sleep in the last three days.

  “Sounds like things have been pretty interesting around here.”

  He grunted and shoved the last heavily frosted piece in his mouth. “Understatement of the year. Don’t even have time to open my damn mail.”

  I eyed the stack in his “In” box. “Any change in Donovan Black Dog’s condition?”

  “He’s stabilized. Swelling around his brain is down. Tomorrow they’re gonna take him off the meds that’ve kept him in a coma.” He sipped his coffee. “Course, you didn’t hear any of that from me.”

  “Does he have any family staying with him up at the hospital?”

  “You looking for someone in particular?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “His five-year old daughter, Chloe.”

  Glaciers formed in his eyes. “Why?”

  I wouldn’t get another lick of information until I explained.

  “Okay, here’s my case in a nutshell: Donovan snatched her in a child custody dispute. I was hired to find out where he’d hidden her.”

  “Dammit, Collins. Were any of the proper agencies made aware of this situation?”

  My cheeks flushed with guilt.

  “The mother hired you?”

  “No. I was hired through the girl’s uncle.”

  The Sheriff scowled. “Well? Spit it out.”

  “That day up at Bear Butte I was trying to convince Donovan to turn Chloe over to me so we didn’t have to involve the ‘proper authorities’. Then before he told me where she was, someone shot him.”

  “Where is the mother? Why hasn’t she come forward?”

  “See, that’s the interesting part. Her name is Rondelle Eagle Tail and she’s the woman you found dead in the cabin.”

  He lowered his cup very slowly. “Run that by me one more time.”

  Felt like a high schooler in the principal’s office explaining why I’d skipped geometry. “Umm. Rondelle is Chloe’s mother.”

  “And you’re just coming to me with the information now?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think it mattered before. But as I’ve been trying to find this girl, I found out a bunch of stuff I didn’t want to know.”

  “Start talking, Collins. Don’t leave anything out or you’ll be cuffed and in FBI custody just for my amusement.”

  “But—”

  “Talk!”

  Crap. “Okay. One of the dead guys worked for Rondelle’s boss up in Deadwood.”

  “Tommy Defiglio. Worked security at Trader Pete’s for the Carluccis. That’s not new information. Keep going.”

  “You also know that Rondelle was employed by Bud Linderman right before she went to work for the Carluccis?”

  He nodded. Glowered. His nostrils flared.

  “Then you know Harvey Vai—Tony Martinez’s right hand man with the Hombres—is Rondelle’s brother.”

  “Which means Harvey hired you.”

  “Umm. No.” For something to do with my restless hands, I broke off a piece of Styrofoam and dropped it in the empty cup. “Martinez hired me on Harvey’s behalf.”

  The sheriff didn’t utter a peep.

  To pass the time I watched the jagged white chunk floating in my cold coffee. Considered breaking off another piece and having a race.

  “With all the personal stuff he’s been going through, is your partner aware you’re working for the Hombres?”

  “Yeah. I mean no. I’m working for Martinez, not the Hombres.”

  “Same damn thing.”

  Not a good idea to argue the differences, especially when I wasn’t precisely sure there were any.

  “Tread lightly here, Collins. Dave Tschetter with the Lawrence County Sheriff’s Department hinted there’s been some trouble brewing between the Carluccis and the Hombres the last few months. It could get nasty.”

  “I know nothing about that.” I took a chance. “But I would like to know if Red Granger’s murder is somehow tied to all of this?”

  “While I’ve always appreciated your insight and instincts, I don’t need your speculation now. Stay out of this mess or I’ll have you arrested for obstruction.”

  I nodded. Sheriff Richards didn’t bother with idle threats.

  “Besides. I can’t tell you anything about an ongoing investigation.” His relentless gaze pinned me to my chair. “But you already knew that, so why are you really here?”

  Might be petty, but I’d keep the info about the security disk and the missing money to myself for now. I doubted either the Carluccis or Linderman would bring it up. Talk about providing perfect motives for mur
der.

  “I’m here because I’ve failed to find Chloe Black Dog. The favor I need is simple: call me when Donovan regains consciousness. If I can find Chloe, it’ll go a long way in easing Harvey’s grief and closing my case.”

  “That I can do.”

  “Thanks. Then I’ll be out of your hair.” I tried to ease the tension. “What little hair you’ve got left.”

  “Funny. Who’d have thought I’d miss your bizarre sense of humor?”

  Flustered by the remark, I stood and pitched my cup in the garbage.

  “God knows I could use a good laugh.” He drained his coffee and stretched, his head nearly touched the water-stained ceiling. “You’ve got no idea the crap I’m putting up with this week.”

  “How many deputies are working the protest tomorrow?”

  “A couple. I don’t expect much will happen.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You going?”

  “Probably. I haven’t decided for sure.”

  “Hmm.” He rocked back on his heels. “Maybe I oughta send in extra men if there’s a chance you’ll be there.”

  “Why would that make a difference?”

  “Because, Collins, trouble seems to follow you everywhere.”

  No use denying it. I just hoped he was wrong for a change.

  CHAPTER 25

  SINCE I WASN’T GOING BACK TO THE OFFICE, I REMEMBERED I hadn’t checked out the Smart Start daycare angle. In my notebook, alongside where I’d written Cindy, I’d jotted the phone number. I dialed. Luck be my name. Cindy was working.

  Don’t know what I’d hoped to find. Because of confidentiality laws I doubted Cindy could tell me much. Still, it’d bothered me that Donovan’s version of how Chloe had come to be in his custody didn’t match Rondelle’s, particularly when they’d eventually worked together to hide her.

  Donovan said Smart Start had kicked Chloe out.

  Rondelle had claimed she’d gone to pick Chloe up and Chloe wasn’t there.

  Who’d been telling me the truth?

  Did it matter?

  Yes. If it got me closer to finding the child.

  It really bugged me to know how Linderman had gotten pictures of Chloe with strange men. And close-ups? Most daycare places had safety parameters in place to keep strangers away. How had Linderman circumvented that?

  Did he have grandkids there?

  Nah. Smart Start was for low-income families. Linderman’s privileged kids wouldn’t have qualified.

  Only one way: someone on the inside. Question was, had it been willingly? I’d seen the lengths he’d gone to, to ensure Rondelle’s cooperation. Couldn’t have been the first time he’d used threats to get his way, wouldn’t be the last.

  The Smart Start building had more in common with a welding shop than a school. Prefabricated metal. Zero windows in the front. A steel door with a sun-faded blue and white striped awning and a cartoonish sign propped above it. Two cars in the weed-covered parking lot.

  The door was unlocked. Inside the entryway was another door next to a glassed-in reception desk.

  It smelled like an elementary school. Dirty socks, ripe bananas, sour milk, and the underlying hint of cleaning products trying to mask those scents.

  A young brunette with rodeo queen hair glanced up from the computer keyboard. God. Her boobs were so huge I wondered how she could see over them to type. “We’re closed for the day,” she said.

  “Good. I’m here to see Cindy.”

  Her cherry-colored lips pursed. Made her mouth look like a piece of red licorice. “I’m Cindy. Who are you?”

  I pushed a business card under the partition.

  She snagged the card with a crimson claw. “What do you want?”

  “Information on Chloe Black Dog.”

  “Sorry. All our information is confidential.” She set her hands on the keyboard again, but her fingers didn’t type. Pretty sure she’d stopped breathing, too.

  “You do know that her father, Donovan, was shot recently?”

  She didn’t move.

  “And her mother Rondelle is dead?”

  Her gaze reluctantly slid to mine.

  “I was hired to find Chloe before any of this happened. She’s still missing and there are some really bad men after her, hoping to find her before I do.”

  “I don’t know how I can help you.”

  “Okay.” I plucked the guilt card from midair and played it. “Then why did you help them? For money? How much did Bud Linderman pay you to get those pictures of Chloe?”

  She recoiled and sent a petrified look behind her. “Nothing! Omigod. You know about that?”

  “Yeah. But I’ll bet your boss doesn’t.”

  Horror twisted her face, virtually cracking the caked on makeup.

  “Your choice. You talk to me or I talk to your boss.”

  Five seconds later she angled back in her chair and yelled through the open office door, “Charmaine? I’m going out for a quick smoke break.”

  “Okay,” echoed back.

  Cindy grabbed a set of keys and a saddle-shaped purse.

  I followed her outside, prepared to tackle her if she attempted to run.

  At the corner of the building she plucked out a pack of Salem’s and lit up. Tipped her head back and exhaled.

  I performed the same ritual. Let the silence slide for about a minute. Then I said, “Talk.”

  “I didn’t do it for the money.”

  “Why, then? How did you get involved with a scum bucket like Linderman?”

  She coughed. “Not by choice.”

  Blackmail. No surprise.

  “About six months ago I started seeing PeeWee, guy that works on his security team.”

  I frowned. PeeWee? Didn’t fit the description of either of the guys I’d seen with Linderman. “He a cowboy?”

  “Bullrider.” She puffed. “Ex-bullrider. Got injured and couldn’t compete any more. Linderman was his sponsor and made him his personal security. Been doing it about a year.”

  “You still with, umm … PeeWee?” The name sounded strange tripping off my tongue, dirty somehow.

  Cindy chuckled. “Trust me. The name don’t fit. See, ‘PeeWee’ is a joke from other cowboys because the man is hung like a bull. Nickname stuck.”

  More information than I needed.

  “Son of a bitch is mean as an old bull too.” She crossed her purple ropers at the ankle. “Being with a bullrider wasn’t as exciting as I thought. He was all kinds of jealous. Would start a fight with any guy who so much as looked at me.”

  Sounded like Martinez.

  “And he drank like a fish too. We broke up. End of it, right? Wrong.

  “Month or so ago, PeeWee calls me, all sweet-like, and says he needs a favor. When he tells me what it was, letting him take those pictures of Chloe, I said no way. Told him to go to hell.

  “The next day, old Linderman himself shows up. Said if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted, he’d evict my granny from the nursing home.”

  Martinez had told me about Linderman’s various businesses. Tossing out an old lady went beyond cold. I’d think Cindy was telling a big fat lie if I hadn’t met Linderman first. Nothing was beyond the scope of possibilities with him.

  “Sounds like a buncha shit, I know, but it’s true. My great-granny is ninety. She lives on subsidies. She’s lived in Meade County her whole life. Stuck in a wheelchair she ain’t got no place else to go.”

  “So you agreed.”

  “Not proud of it, but yeah.”

  She took the last drag and flicked the smoking cigarette butt into the gravel. “Three men showed up one day when Charmaine was at lunch. Made me tell Chloe we were gonna play a secret, special game. She was supposed to act scared. Then happy, then scared again. They snapped pictures of her with all three guys. Made me want to vomit when I watched, but I wouldn’t leave her alone with them for a second.”

  “Didn’t she think it was weird?”

  “No.” Her chin trembled
. “Chloe trusted me because I was her teacher. God. I never felt so low in my life.

  “I kept waiting for Linderman to come back and make me do something else. He didn’t. Thought he’d be an asshole and call Charmaine and I’d lose my job anyway. About two weeks later Rondelle lit into me when she picked up Chloe. She’d gotten those damn pictures the SOB had taken. She knew it was Linderman and was scared I was helping him.”

  I ground out my cigarette.

  “So, I told her everything.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “What could she say? We were both fucked.” Her eyes gleamed. “Until we figured out a way to fuck that bastard over.”

  “How?”

  “Rondelle left Chloe here. I waited until the end of the day to call Donovan. Told him Rondelle hadn’t shown up, knowing he’d blow a gasket. They always fought about custody stuff. Anyway, when he got here, I acted all pissed off. Showed him fake records of how many times Rondelle had been late, how she’d given all these other people access to Chloe. I threatened to call Social Services. I let Donovan convince me not to contact them by telling him Chloe couldn’t come back. Ever. That was the best way to keep her safe, because she sure as hell wasn’t safe here.”

  Her risk, her bluff had paid off. “Has Linderman been back?”

  Cindy nodded. “But by that time Chloe was long gone and I wasn’t of any further use to him. Been wondering if I ought to go to the police with it, now that Rondelle is dead. Even if it means I gotta find Granny another place to live. Even if it means my job.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t make that decision for her.

  “You really don’t know where Chloe is?” she asked.

  “No.” I faced her. “You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?”

  Her hairdo didn’t move when she shook her head, but the turquoise chandelier earrings swung into her cheek. “She’s a great kid. Rondelle may’ve acted as if she didn’t care, but she wasn’t a bad mother. Not like some I’ve seen around here. She’d have chewed through glass to keep her kid safe.”