Celilo's Shadow

by Wilcox, Valerie

  Tony grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her roughly to his chest.

  “Don’t, she said, squirming out of his embrace.

  Angered by her refusal, he grabbed her again. “Hey, now,” he said. “You know you want this.”

  “No, please. I don’t.”

  He glared at her. “Why, you little cock-tease.” Pulling her toward him again, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and kissed her. The more she resisted, the rougher the smashing of lips.

  She doubled her fists and pounded on his chest, which was so pitifully ineffective that he had to stop kissing her and laugh. “You’re a sexy babe, but a spitfire you’re not.”

  Ellie squirmed out of his embrace and lunged for the door.

  “Shit!” he sputtered, grabbing her arm. “You’re not going anywhere, missy! We’re just getting started.”

  She whimpered softly as she stared at his fingers digging into her arm. “Please,” she said. “Don’t hurt me.” When she began to cry, Tony shouted, “That’s enough!” A stinging slap followed. The surprise attack stopped her tears, but the blow had bloodied her nose. “Fight it all you want, baby. I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

  While Ellie pinched her nose to stop the bleeding, Tony reached under the seat for the bottle he’d stashed there. “Get yourself together,” he ordered. After he’d had several noisy gulps, he offered her the whiskey. “You look like you could use a drink, he said.

  She pushed the bottle away. “Your loss, my gain,” he slurred. When he’d downed a couple more swigs, he capped the bottle and tossed it aside. “Now, where were we?” he asked, leering down her blouse. “Oh yeah,” he said, squeezing her nipples through the thin fabric. “Warm-up act.” He ripped her blouse apart and when he’d torn off her bra, he held the lacy garment to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he said, “Mmm, nice. Really nice.” Ellie shivered and covered her exposed breasts with crossed arms.

  “No, you don’t,” Tony said, tossing the bra aside and pushing her backwards onto the seat. This time he punched her in the face and gut to stop her crying. “Now, that I have your attention,” he sneered, “let’s get to it.” He pinned her down with his body and ignored her screams as he nuzzled her nipples. After a few moments, he paused long enough to unzip his pants and announce, “So much for the warm-up act.” With one swift maneuver, he had her shorts and panties pulled to her ankles. Roughly pawing at her exposed privates, he wrenched her legs apart. Between short gasps of breath, he said, “Time for the main event, baby” and thrust himself inside her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Danny unscrewed the wing nut atop the round, frying pan-like apparatus holding the truck filter and removed its lid. Then, lifting the fitting out of the engine and placing it on a dented fender, he removed the filter inside. Just as he’d suspected, the filter was caked with thick dust from the roadway. Most of the dust flew off after he’d whacked the filter against the side of the truck a couple of times. Just to make sure, he blew on it as hard as he could. Once he had the hastily cleaned filter back inside its receptacle and reinserted in the truck, he dropped the hood and jumped in the cab. Danny held his breath, praying the ignition switch would turn the engine over. With a comforting roar, the truck came to life. Success! Breathing again, he popped the clutch and headed for the bluff.

  He heard Ellie’s screams as soon as he’d pulled into the meadow. Her terror was Danny’s terror. If he’d ever wanted to kill someone, it was now. Whoever was hurting Ellie would not live to tell about it. He jammed the gas pedal to the floorboard and the old truck took on new life as it flat-out flew across the meadow. But it seemed to take centuries before he braked to a halt behind the Caddy and hopped out of the cab.

  Ellie’s attacker was too intent on subduing Ellie to register Danny’s arrival. The poor girl was nearly naked and struggling to fight him off, but the man atop her had pinned her arms back and spread her legs apart for the brutal assault. Danny grabbed the creep by his shoulders and pulled him off Ellie.

  Once he got him out of the car and onto the ground, the guy tried to push Danny away. It was a clumsy, futile effort. With his pants tangled around his ankles, he couldn’t get enough traction to stand upright without stumbling. Judging by the stench, the alcohol he’d consumed didn’t help his cause. He was an easy take-down. Danny didn’t give him a chance to assume an even half-way defensive posture. He kicked and pummeled the man without mercy. Within minutes, Ellie’s attacker had passed out. But Danny kept punching and kicking him.

  Ellie somehow managed to get her ripped clothing back on during Danny’s one-sided fight and scrambled out of the car. “No, Danny!” she cried. “Don’t kill him!” But the SOB needed killing and Danny’s rage was far from spent.

  “Danny, please,” she begged. “Stop!”

  The fear in her voice broke through the fury that had gripped him. Danny lowered his fist and looked at the wounded deer stumbling toward him. Her bloodied face looked swollen and bruised from the guy’s attack. The agony on her face crushed whatever fight Danny still had left. With aching heart, he opened his arms to her. Collapsing against his chest, she whimpered, “Help me, help me.”

  He gently cradled her trembling body in his arms and hushed her plaintive cries. “It’s going to be all right, Ellie. I’m here now. You’ll be okay.” He would hold her like this forever if need be.

  After a few moments, she stopped crying. “Take me home.”

  He’d do whatever she wished, but he wavered. “Ellie,” he said, “I don’t know where you live.”

  “Not there. Take me to your home, Danny. Take me to Celilo.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  As despondent as Sam had been over his failures, his sponsor Mike’s talk had gotten through to him. All that stuff about following the money got him thinking like an investigator again. That and Mike’s take on the curative power of work. He’d poured the whiskey down the sink, thrown the empty bottle away and gone back to the dam, after a quick stop at the court house to check on who’d paid Danny’s bail. Now it was time to make some amends.

  Sam had stayed home this morning specifically so he could talk to Ellie. News that an FBI agent had been posing as a construction foreman at the dam was bound to get around town fast. Ellie deserved to hear it from him first. He hadn’t been able to explain his situation to Reba in time and the result had been a disaster. He wanted to spare Ellie and, frankly, himself, from similar pain. He wanted to tell her that he’d been trying to help the Indians, not hurt them. He wanted her to know how much he cared for Reba and the hopes he’d had for their future together. He wanted to apologize to Ellie for the mistakes he’d made in the past and ask for her forgiveness. Yes, he had a lot to discuss with his daughter. But it didn’t quite work out the way he’d planned.

  He’d let her go shopping with Dessa and her mother because he’d forgotten that he’d already promised her that she could. He’d spent the time that she was gone doing some chores around the house and thinking about the best way to explain things to her. He thought he was prepared, but the way that she stormed into the house with her face flushed and scowling, worried him. A déjà vu feeling overtook him. Was he too late again? Hoping he’d misjudged the reason for her distress, he opted for a lighthearted tone. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, “What’s with the frowny face?”

  Her scowl deepened as she stomped her foot. “Da-a-ad! You’ve got to stop treating me like a baby. Kiddo? Frowny face? Really?”

  That went well. He smiled sheepishly. “I know, Ellie. You’re not a baby or even a little child anymore. I need to treat you like the young lady you’ve become. So, let’s start right now. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  Ellie looked at him skeptically. “Wha
t?”

  “Let’s sit down in the living room and I’ll explain.”

  Ellie shrugged, which Sam knew could mean just about anything, but she followed him into the living room. After they’d settled comfortably, Sam began. “First, I’d like to know what happened on the shopping trip. You seemed upset when you got here.”

  “I ran into Danny Longstreet in town.”

  Oops. Too late. Sam sighed, “I suppose he told you that I’m an FBI agent?”

  “How . . . how’d you guess?”

  “It wasn’t a guess. I am an FBI agent. And Danny knows it.”

  “But . . . I don’t understand. You told me you’d quit. That you couldn’t do it anymore.”

  “I didn’t think I could. Not after my partner and another agent were seriously hurt because—”

  “Because you were drinking on the job.”

  “Yes, because of me, two men who were my friends, almost lost their lives. But I was given another chance to start over in The Dalles.”

  “Working undercover again?”

  Sam nodded. “As a construction foreman. My boss was afraid there’d be trouble at the dam and he wanted me to be there to stop it.”

  “So, you lied to me and everyone else.”

  “Ellie, I had to keep my role at the dam a secret to be effective. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  She shook her head. “NO! I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could make promises and then turn right around and break them. I don’t understand how you could look Reba and Danny in the face and pretend to be their friend.”

  “I am their friend.”

  “No, you’re not. Danny told me you just said you were so you could spy on them. You never intended to help George Featherstone. He was just a convenient way to get on the good side of the Indians. Danny said you’re even going to dig up their ancestors’ graves.”

  “It’s true I’m in charge of the reburial project but—”

  “I thought Danny was lying about you. But you’re the liar.”

  “No, Ellie, I—”

  She put her hands over her ears. “STOP! I don’t want to hear any more of this. You lie about everything. You haven’t even quit drinking like you promised.” She noted Sam’s head shake. “Don’t try to deny it, Dad. I saw the empty liquor bottle in the trash. “You’re still a drunk and always will be.” With tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the chair. “I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU!!” she cried before running out of the room.

  Stunned by her emotional outburst, Sam wasn’t sure if he should go after her. When he heard the front door slam, he got up and looked out the window. Ellie had raced across the street to Dessa’s house and was on her way inside. He told himself that that was probably for the best right now. She was in no mood to listen to anything he had to say. Maybe talking to a friend would help somehow. Sam had no idea how to deal with a teenage girl like Ellie. He could use a parent sponsor like he had for A.A. The whole exchange had worn him out. He decided to sit in his recliner and rest a bit until Ellie came back home.

  Two hours later, he woke up and realized that Ellie still hadn’t returned. He walked across the street and rang the Feldman’s doorbell. “Is Ellie here?” he asked, when Odessa opened the door.

  “No,” she said.

  “Have you seen her today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Yes.”

  If she were purposely acting obtuse to frustrate him, she was doing an excellent job. “Odessa, I need to know where Ellie is. Please tell me. It’s important.”

  For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to say anything. “She said she’d never speak to me again if I told you,” Dessa finally said. “I’d hate to lose her as a friend, but I’m more afraid of what might happen to her.”

  “Because?” he asked, heart racing.

  “Because Ellie told me she was going to hitch a ride to Celilo Village.”

  Not what he wanted to hear. Sam had warned both girls about the dangers of getting into a stranger’s vehicle. Ellie said the kids did it all the time and he was just being overly protective. The baby thing again. Sam had seen too many hitchhiking incidents turned deadly to allow Ellie to do it. As far as he knew, she never had. Was this her way of showing that she didn’t believe anything he said anymore? The thought made him shudder.

  “Thank you,” Sam said, turning to leave.

  “She was very upset with you.”

  “I know.”

  What he didn’t know was why Ellie would want to go to Celilo. The more he considered it, the more it made sense. Reba would understand what Ellie was going through since she had suffered from Sam’s duplicity as well. His biggest regret all these years was that Ellie didn’t have her mother. As hard as he’d tried, Sam was no substitute for the comfort that only a mother could give her daughter. He winced as he remembered the awkward way he’d explained what the blood spots on Ellie’s underpants meant. She’d thought she was dying of some dreadful disease. Menstruation was something a mother should discuss with her daughter.

  Sam didn’t feel comfortable going to Celilo, but if Ellie were there, he had no choice. He needed to bring his daughter home.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As soon as Sam drove into the village, he noticed that the usual tourist crowds were absent. The faded yellow flag atop the Long House flapped noisily in a strong breeze. No fishing would take place this day, which accounted for the lack of tourists. Another fisherman had probably fallen into the falls. It was a dangerous business, but everyone accepted the risks, just as Sam had accepted the risks his job entailed. He wondered if the inevitable deaths at the falls caused the villagers to question their jobs as Sam did his. He didn’t think so. His job was just a career choice. Theirs was a way of life.

  Sam’s relationship with Reba had caused him to look at everything with new eyes. Despite his doubts about the morality of the dam’s existence, he still admired the skill of the workers charged with its construction. The structure was unquestionably a magnificent engineering feat. The electricity generated by the dam would benefit thousands. Maybe he was wrong, but he chose to believe that it was his deceit and not his work at the dam that had tarnished, and eventually ruined things with Reba.

  Fortunately, his pickup hadn’t attracted any attention from the few villagers who were outside. The last thing he needed was another confrontation. He parked outside Reba’s house and knocked on the door, hoping that Danny wasn’t home. Sam’s efforts to build a relationship with him hadn’t succeeded and most likely never would now.

  Reba opened the door and stepped outside. When she’d closed the door behind her, she said, “I thought you’d come.” Her voice carried none of the hurt and disappointment that had marred their last meeting.

  Seeing her again made his heart beat faster. He loved this woman and nothing could change that. He would’ve given anything to tell her how he felt, but his priority now was his daughter and only his daughter. “Is Ellie here?” he asked.

  She nodded. “But she doesn’t want to see you.”

  “I kind of figured that,” he said, running a hand over his crew cut. “I want to see her, though.”

  Reba shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sam. Ellie is hurt.”

  “I know. That’s why I need to talk to her. I’ve got to make things right, if I can.”

  “You don’t understand.” She looked at him with a tenderness he hadn’t expected. “Ellie was raped.”

  He couldn’t comprehend what he heard. Raped? “No, that’s not possible . . . I can’t . . . what did you say?”

&nbs
p; “She was attacked. She wouldn’t say who did it, but Danny told me. His name is Tony Rossi.”

  My God. He knew the man was bad news from the moment he met him. His mind raced as he tried to come to terms with what had occurred. With righteous anger tempered by profound regret, he asked, “When did this happen? Where?”

  “Danny was the one who found her. He told me that Tony picked her up in his car along Highway 84. He took her to Baker Bluff, supposedly to comfort her, since she seemed so distraught.”

  Sam bowed his head. “This is my all fault.” When he looked up he said, “I need to see her. Please.”

  “I’m taking care of her. You shouldn’t come back here again, Sam,” she said. “It’s not safe for you.” The breeze that whipped the flag atop the Long House had picked up strength. The fierce gusts were tearing the faded symbol to shreds. Reba pointed to the flag. “It flies today for George. He’s dead.”

  “What?” Sam had visited George at the hospital yesterday and was happy to learn that he’d come out of the coma earlier that morning. The protestors were milling around outside the building but the extra security he’d arranged seemed to be keeping things under control. George should’ve been safe. “Did Sheriff Pritchard—”

  “The sheriff had nothing to do with it. George recovered from the coma only to die of cardiac arrest. The doctor said the strain of the ordeal he’d been through was just too much for him. You broke your promise, Sam. You told us—and George—that you’d protect him. And you didn’t. You betrayed us all.”

  ****

  His failures were piling up like overdue bills. He’d failed George. He’d failed Reba. He’d failed her people. But the worst failure of all was that he hadn’t protected his daughter. The only greater sin was what Tony Rossi had done to her. Sam’s shock had quickly turned to anger, then overwhelming rage. Nothing—not the FBI, the dam, Celilo, or even his own life—mattered more than destroying the man who’d destroyed his only child. It was a father’s mandate.