The Steele Collection Books 1-3: Sarah Steele Legal Thrillers

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The Steele Collection Books 1-3: Sarah Steele Legal Thrillers Page 29

by Aaron Patterson


  “Timothy,” I said sharply. “What laws have you broken?”

  He grunted, lifted the hatchback, and took a step back so I could see inside. My stomach churned at the sight and smell. I put my hand over my mouth, wincing. No matter how many times I’d seen it, nothing prepares you for the shock of seeing a dead body.

  “Yeah, it’s just what it looks like.” Timothy paled.

  Crammed against the back of the rear seat was the twisted body of a girl. Her lifeless eyes stared into nothing, and there was the tail end of an arrow sticking out of her chest. Dried blood caked the front of her dress, and the carpet was soaked with it.

  I turned and opened my mouth to say something to Timothy, but nothing came out. He looked at his feet and kicked the dirt.

  “Can you help me, Sarah Steele?”

  I NARROWED MY WORLD TO this car, this body, this moment. Nothing existed outside of it. There was only so much time, and I had to employ every second to memorizing this scene and deducing facts from that knowledge. It helped to shut off my emotions and view this as a puzzle, a game, and the players as objects. There’d be enough time for emotions later.

  I broke it down into parts, examining them up close, but not touching. The trunk had been pried open—crowbar marks marred its edge. The girl wasn’t bound—she’d either been drugged or forced in here by someone stronger than her. No bruises were visible on her wrists or ankles. Her dress was cheap, short, and covered in teal sequins. One of her black pumps was missing. She wore a heart-shaped necklace with “A” etched on it. There was a tattoo of a bird on her right ankle. The arrow was hand-fashioned from wood and feathers, but had no workman’s logo. It had been driven into her heart by hand, judging from the angle. I swept my gaze over the scene one last time.

  Then I took Timothy’s hands and held them up to the light. That was the last piece of the puzzle.

  “Call the police right now,” I said in a tone that gave no room for disobedience.

  He backed up. “What? I thought you were going to help me.”

  “I am helping you! We’ve got to get the county sheriff out here as soon as we can to document this.”

  He trembled.

  “Timothy.” I gave him a steady gaze. “You didn’t do it—I can see that. Now let the law prove it.” I pointed to his pocket, where his phone was. “Call and tell them you’d like to report a murder and a conspiracy.”

  He did as I said. After he had hung up, I turned to him. “Talk fast. Tell me what happened here.”

  “I woke up this morning, went to my car, and the door was unlocked. I always lock my car door. At first, I thought maybe some kids broke into take the radio or something.”

  “And you found her?”

  “Yes, she was cold. I freaked and drove out here… I had to get away, to think of what to do.”

  “You called me and who else?”

  He shook his head. “No one. I would never…” His voice cracked, and I saw the fear and sorrow in his eyes. “I want to hire you. I can pay whatever you want, but you have to help me. I know you think for yourself, that the truth is more important than the law sometimes. I need you to do whatever you can to find out what happened and keep me from losing everything.”

  I worried that this man knew me a little too well. His perception was good—maybe being a reporter gave him the ability to see through the article in the newspaper to the real story.

  The sun beat down, warming my skin. Sweat trickled down my back and I wiped my forehead with my blouse sleeve. After staring at the girl for a few minutes, I had to look away. No matter who she was, she deserved more than this. Someone had treated her like an expendable pawn in their game to trap Timothy, and that made my blood run hot. This wasn’t just about Timothy, or Dan, or my business—I had to find whoever did this. I had to teach them a lesson about what happens when they treat people like garbage.

  Sirens wailed in the distance and my palms started sweating. “Is there anything else you can tell me that will help?”

  The wind scattered up dust and I squinted through my lashes and pursed my lips. “Well?”

  Timothy’s eyes reddened and he cleared his throat. He undid a key from his key ring and handed it to me. “Get my laptop at my hotel room and read my notes on the women’s shelter here. That was my story. I was about to blast some leaders for their lack of response to battered women.” I leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word. “They want me out of the way. Also—” The police cars were getting closer. And I could see them off in the distance coming from both directions. “Talk to Yona.”

  A big white Ford truck with a magnetic red light on top pulled up, making dust and dirt fly. I shaded my eyes from the sun and watched as a leathery-faced officer got out. In big bold letters on the side if the truck, it read “Indian Tribal Police”.

  Two Idaho State troopers in black-and-white Chargers came from the opposite direction. They pulled to a stop. Four officers stepped out, but didn’t make a move to come talk to us.

  I grabbed Timothy’s forearm. He looked at me intently. “Now you listen to me and do exactly what I tell you. Not a word—you don’t tell them your name, not one breath. You got that?” He nodded. “Good. Now as far as they know, I’m your lawyer. Who knows if it will even matter, but we’ll deal with it as it comes. Just remember, not a word. Make them need me. You only talk through me, understand?”

  “Yes…” He hesitated. Then, as the officer approached us, he said quickly, “Just promise me something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t believe what they say about me.”

  “COME WITH US, SIR.” The older man wore a flat expression and didn’t even glance my way. He pushed Timothy around and clicked handcuffs into place. He was of medium build, with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He took out a cell phone and dialed, tossing me a deadpan look. “Got two here and four pokers and one cold one. Set up room one and bring in Chaska. He’s gonna want to be there for this.”

  The second Indian tribal police officer was a young boy of no more than twenty, I guessed. He stood by the truck, holding a shotgun, and appeared to be taking in the scene with more understanding than his age should have allowed. The anger on his face at the sight of the dead girl was palpable.

  Joshua was talking with the state troopers. They looked bored and pissed all at the same time—they didn’t have any authority on Indian land, but had to respond to the call anyway.

  After a short back and forth, the ITP officer replaced the phone in his pocket and turned toward me. “And you are…?”

  “Sarah Steele. I’m his lawyer. And that is my assistant.” I motioned to Joshua, who was standing over by the state troopers.

  “You realize you have no real say here, just what we give you.” He spit and dug the tip of his boot in the dirt. “But I’m okay with it as long as you keep out of our way. Everyone deserves the chance to defend themselves.”

  I was taken aback. All my instincts were telling me I was in for a fight, and to hear him sounding like a caring human being made me wonder who this man was and if he could be an ally. “Thanks. I’ll do all I can to abide by your laws.”

  “I can deal with that, Miss Steele. I’m Tahatan, head of security around here and head of the Indian Tribal Police. In terms you will understand, my only boss is the chief, Chaska Tate. You may find our ways strange, but no matter how you feel about it, when you’re on Indian land, you’re in our nation. What I say goes. My word is law around here. Got it?”

  “Understood. May I ride with Timothy?” I asked. Tahatan looked at Timothy, who sat meekly at our feet just like I told him. I was glad he took my advice to heart.

  “I see that I’m not going to get much out of him without you there. So, yeah, you can ride in the back with him.”

  “I’m going to go talk to the state police and my assistant. Can you give me a few minutes?”

  “Just hurry it up. Them Pokers don’t have a lick of business being here. They can watch all they like, bu
t you tell them to go back to their caves and keep out of our affairs.”

  His dislike for them was thick. I wondered what had gone on to warrant such a feeling. I was sure I’d find out soon enough.

  As I talked to Joshua and filled him in, I saw another pickup truck pull up. Two guys got out and began to take pictures of the body and the SUV.

  Josh lowered his voice and took a few steps away from the state troopers. “So as far as I can tell, the police hate the Indians and the Indians hate the police. They have orders to note what happens, but only as observers,” Josh said. The two were getting back into their cars and were about to head out.

  “I told them we would keep them up-to-date and they seemed relieved. I don’t think they like playing babysitter.”

  The state trooper eyed me and I gave Timothy a wave. He didn’t respond. “I’m going to ride with Timothy. Can you follow us and call Mandy?”

  “Sure, but why do you want me to call her?”

  “Because this is our company’s first case, and if you’re in, so’s Mandy.”

  Josh nodded. “Does she know that?”

  “She will after you tell her,” I said.

  WHEN OFFICER TAHATAN SAID I could ride in the back, I assumed he meant the back seat of his quad cab truck. I was wrong. Lowering the tailgate, he motioned for us to get in. Then he took out a second pair of handcuffs and looped one to an eyehook in the bed and the other to Timothy’s ankle.

  I put my hands on my hips. “You can’t be serious.”

  Tahatan raised one eyebrow and slammed the tailgate shut. I sat down next to Timothy and groaned. “Well, this day is not going like I thought it would. Most guys would at least buy me dinner before inviting me to go to jail with them.”

  “I know a good place, but you’re going to have to take a rain check. I’m a little tied up right now.” He laughed at his lame joke, and I was glad he was keeping his spirits up.

  “At least you have a sense of humor.” I checked my phone and saw a text from Solomon. He was going to be home tonight and wanted to come over. My skin warmed at the thought of seeing him. I got a twinge of regret when I texted him that I’d be out tonight, but I’d catch up with him tomorrow—regret that I wasn’t a normal person who could welcome her boyfriend home with a normal night of Chinese and making out on the couch. With a sigh, I texted See you tomorrow and put away my phone.

  Solomon did something to me that I couldn’t deny. We had chemistry, and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him. But I was on a case, and determined to see things through even if it meant not welcoming Solomon back with open arms. That was the price, and it was worth it. A girl was dead, and that trumped my boyfriend.

  I pierced Timothy with a stare. “Time to tell me a story. We’re alone, and I am not sure we’ll have this luxury again anytime soon.” The truck started and we pulled out onto the highway.

  Timothy started talking loud enough for me to hear over the road noise, but not loud enough for them to hear inside the truck. “I’ve been researching sexual abuse in Indian communities for a story. There is a high rate of rape and domestic abuse. Almost all of it goes unpunished. Out of the fifty-three cases of rape and sexual abuse reported last year, only one man was convicted and thrown in jail.”

  The truck hit a pothole and I bounced, hitting my backside hard. “Ow.” The wind made it hard to talk, but Timothy leaned close to my ear so I could hear him.

  “Nice transportation, huh?”

  I grimaced.

  “Anyway, I did most of my research online, but I had to finish it up on the ground. I flew in ten days ago from my hometown in Chicago. I’ve been staying at the casino hotel, and that’s where it got interesting. At first, I thought this was just going to be about women being abused and the men getting away with it. But once I got here, I discovered it went much deeper than that.”

  “What do you mean?” I yelled above the wind.

  “Sex trafficking, drugs, money laundering—the works. There have been three casinos built in three years. All of them are used to move girls and drugs in and out. All the tribe members work for the casinos, and the income supports the entire tribe. I was really getting some good info when suddenly, the witnesses shut down. Someone scared them—scared them bad because no one will talk to me.”

  I nodded. It was a common story, one I’d heard a hundred times. It was why corruption went on unhindered.

  He cleared his throat. “I had one woman, a local writer, who was trying to help me, but now no one will even look at me, let alone talk to me. I was told to leave, the hotel doubled my room rate, and I got a note under my door yesterday telling me that I was in danger, that if I stayed and kept asking questions, someone would die.”

  The thought hit me and I kicked myself for not asking sooner. “Did you know the girl?”

  “Yeah, she was one of the good ones. Her name is Lina Sever. She was being abused by her father and talked to me three days ago. She died because of me.”

  THE TOWN OF LITTLE Bear was a joke. It was as if someone built three huge casinos out in the middle of the desert and then had a road put in. Despite the remote location and the odd setup, the large parking lots were all full. Business was good.

  The rest of the town was located past the neon lights and glittering signs. Small row houses lined the main street. There was one way in and one way out, making this a dead end.

  We turned down a dirt lane that wrapped around and opened up to the back of the largest casino, the Golden Nugget. Parking next to a black BMW 5 series, I waited for our great and mighty god to come and give us permission to get out.

  “Remember, don’t say anything unless I tell you to.”

  Timothy nodded. He was pale and his hands trembled. That was good. I wanted him to stay afraid, as this was no light matter. Of course, I didn’t want him bawling on my shoulder, either. So I said reassuringly, “We’re going to work this out. Just you wait.”

  Both truck doors opened and the young boy opened the tailgate. Tahatan removed the handcuffs from the eyehook and Timothy’s ankle. “All right, both of you get on out of there.”

  It had only been a twenty-minute ride from the old café to here, but my body ached as if I had just played tackle football with a bunch of jacked-up Texans.

  “Don’t you have an ITP building or a jail?” I asked.

  Tahatan spit nasty chew out the side of his mouth and grinned, showing flecks of the stuff in his teeth. “Don’t need one. We have it all right here in the Golden Nugget. You see, it’s not just a casino and hotel. In the main lobby is everything you need—day spa, mini mall, food court, and we even have a post office.”

  “So you’ll be keeping Timothy in the spa, then?” Sarcasm probably wasn’t my best move at the moment, but I couldn’t help it.

  He grunted, and his mouth twitched. Was that a smile?

  I kept going. “What about other city essentials—a gas station, food market, courthouse, dungeon, and such? Every good casino has a dungeon, right?”

  He spit again and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “All here. The lower floors are where the real action is. Courthouse, our offices, and even the jail—you may call it the dungeon if you wish. As far as the other stuff goes, across the street at the Silver Mine, they have a local food market, and the Bronze Star has a full-service gas station.”

  I whistled. “Wow, you have quite the setup here. It’s like the casinos are the town.”

  The back door opened, and a skinny man in a guard uniform stiffened and avoided eye contact with Tahatan. Speeding past us, he left in a hurry, keeping his head down. Tahatan had these people running scared—maybe he was God.

  “The original town of Little Bear had two main streets with a small market, one gas pump, and a few other outbuildings, but all that’s left of it is what you saw on the way in—some cheap houses and a few old school members who won’t adapt with the times. The rest of the tribe is scattered about on plots of land from here to about one hundred miles
thataway.” He pointed south.

  Ushering us past another guard, he took the lead and we walked down a wide hallway to a bank of elevators. Someone with style had designed the casino. The lighting was low, the art was modern, and the accents were bold but not too much. I bet this drew every bored housewife with a good nose for brandy and money for blackjack from the surrounding four states. Appetizing smells wafted through the lobby, making my mouth water. Were those chocolate chip cookies on the counter? I grabbed one and started munching. Mmm, it tasted fresh from the oven, and the chocolate was still gooey. Although I’d never been one who enjoyed casinos, the atmosphere made me relax. Pass me a martini and I just might hand over all my money. I gulped. I’d better stiffen up or my client might rot in jail while I got really good at craps.

  We went down two floors and into one of the nicest offices I’d ever seen.

  “This is the courthouse, jail, and headquarters for the Indian Tribal Police.” He tipped his hat to a couple of men who were talking and sipping coffee. They stared back at Timothy, their eyes glinting in anger. So they’d already heard why we were here. I studied each one—memorized their faces and took in as much as I could from their mannerisms and their desks. One of these guys might have framed Timothy. From here on out, I couldn’t trust anyone. Not even Timothy. Especially not Timothy. He had the most on the line.

  We followed Tahatan back to a room with one door and a big one-way mirror. Inside were a single table and two chairs. Tahatan motioned. “Have a seat. Get comfortable. I’ll have my man show your big friend into the waiting area.”

  I couldn’t let him get the last word. Widening my eyes, I said with a pert smile, “I’d be a lot more comfortable if you brought me a latte.”

  He snorted and slammed the door shut. Looked like my petition was lost on him.

  I sat down on one of the cold metal chairs and Timothy started pacing the room. His hands were still cuffed behind his back. I had to pee, but I was afraid they’d start grilling Timothy if I left him for one moment.

 

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