Whew. “Thank you.” Figured. The one time I’d asked for directions, I would have found the place myself if I’d kept on going.
“You here about the campground?”
Something cold trickled over my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What makes you say that?”
She shrugged, either already bored with my visit or a master at feigning indifference. “The campground is the only reason you people come here.”
You people. It sounded like an indictment, and I felt like I should apologize, but for what, I wasn’t sure. Driving a truck that cost more than her house? Dreaming of grad school, which my parents would pay for, when she probably worried about putting food on the table?
I gave myself a mental shake. I had no idea what this woman’s life was like. For all I knew, she’d had caviar and crab cakes for breakfast, while I’d choked down a soggy bowl of Wheaties (which my parents had paid for). “Well, thanks for the directions.”
She nodded again, already back to her sweeping. My hands shook as they grabbed hold of the steering wheel, pulling me into the cab. Get a grip, Wallace. You’re losing it.
In my rearview mirror, I could see she paused to watch me as I drove away.
The nagging feeling that I’d done something wrong intensified in the band office. A rusty screen door shrieked of my arrival, making me wince, but the woman behind the reception desk only briefly glanced up from her smartphone.
I waited several minutes before daring to clear my throat, minutes in which she studiously ignored me.
“Yes?” she said, her voice heavy with resignation, as if I were the bane of her existence and she’d hoped I’d have gone away by now.
“Can I – I’m here to see Chief Kinew, please.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is he expecting you?”
“I’m here on behalf of Detective Greyeyes. She’s a friend of his,” I said, not knowing if it were true or not, and not caring. Nervous tension had made me jittery, like there were ants crawling up my leg, and all I wanted to do was fulfill my promise and then break every posted speed limit on the way home.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, the woman disappeared down a hallway, obviously disappointed I couldn’t be dismissed with an admonishment to make an appointment next time. While Greyeyes’ name had garnered a better response, I didn’t sense the woman had any great love for the detective either.
She returned with a man so tall the top of his head brushed the ceiling. He was startlingly good looking with his dark, wavy hair and dimples deep enough to open a bottle with. Jess would have been most appreciative, even as she snickered over his floral-print western shirt and painted-on jeans. Hell, if I looked like that, I’d probably wear tight jeans too.
“Chief Kinew?”
If the man was surprised to see a dumb white kid waiting for him, he didn’t show it. He extended his hand, the first person in his community to treat me like I wasn’t some disgusting disease. “Welcome. You’re a friend of Greyeyes?”
My impulse was to say no, but what was the better response? That I was her number-one suspect? Her former prisoner? Her guilty conscience? I thought of the way she’d clung to my hand in the hospital, how she’d trusted me to pass on her message, and nodded. “Yes. She asked me to speak with you.”
“Glad to. Come on back. Would you like a coffee?”
Nerves had turned the inside of my mouth into the Sahara. “No, thank you, but a water would be great.”
“Denise, will you get this young man a water, please?”
Denise’s eye roll was nearly audible. Without waiting for a response, the chief led me to a room crammed with books. The towering stacks of volumes made the place look more like a used bookstore or an eccentric’s library than a place of business.
“Wow. You must really like to read.” The sight of that much literature was enough to give me hives.
A flash of perfect teeth. “I do.” The chief cleared off a chair for me by moving what looked like an entire set of encyclopedias to the floor. “Please, take a seat. What should I call you?”
My cheeks burned as I realized I hadn’t bothered to introduce myself. “Sorry. I’m Reese. Reese Wallace.”
The chief paused in his sorting, his fingers resting on the cover of one of his many treasures. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit. “You’re the survivor.”
“Yes.” The word surprised me. I hadn’t thought of myself that way, as the fact I continued to suck air into my lungs seemed like dumb luck more than anything else.
“I’m sorry for your loss. If you need something stronger than water, I’m happy to get it for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that, but water is fine. I’m driving,” I said, as if I needed an excuse. “And I’m not a hundred percent yet.”
“I can see that. Your face – is that from the campground?”
Sometimes I forgot that I still resembled a punching bag. “No, an overzealous cop.”
Kinew’s features hardened, and I could see he was a man you wouldn’t want to fuck with. “Archer?”
“Unfortunately.”
“There’s no love for that man around here. I’m guessing now he’ll finally pay for his savagery?”
Finally. One word that told me more than I’d ever wanted to know. I recalled how Crazyhorse had cringed at the sound of Archer’s voice. How often had that asshole beaten the shit out of him? How many of Kinew’s people had fallen victim to his nightstick?
“My parents are suing him, if that’s what you mean.”
The chief raised an eyebrow. “Got a good lawyer?”
I thought of Prosper, with his outlandish suits and air of importance. “He seems to think so.”
Kinew’s laugh filled the room, startling me. “As is the way of all lawyers. I hope he makes that bastard pay. It’s been a long time coming.”
“He’s been suspended, and I doubt he’ll be a cop again, if that’s any consolation.”
The laughter died. Kinew’s eyes turned flat and dead, the mischievous sparkle vanishing as suddenly as if he’d snapped off a light. “Archer can do a lot more damage as a civilian, without the constraints of his job forcing him to keep on the straight and narrow. I won’t be comfortable until I know he’s behind bars, and if I were you, I’d watch my back until that reptile is in a cage.”
Something heavy settled on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. “You think he might come after me?”
“That badge is the only thing that self-important prick had that was worth having. If he blames you for losing it…yeah, I do. He should have reserved his rage for my people. No one cared if he cracked one of our skulls in, but a college-educated white boy?” Kinew studied the ruin of my bruised and battered face. “I never thought he’d be stupid enough to make that kind of mistake. You must have really pissed him off.”
“I was trying to help the other guy in my cell.” It was a lie, but close enough to the truth that my conscience ached just a little. “He might be from around here. Think Archer had done a number on him before. The sound of the guy’s voice was enough to terrify him.”
The chief shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. We have a few fellows doing frequent rotation at that holding cell. Do you remember his name?”
How could I ever forget? “He said his name was Crazyhorse.”
Once again Kinew threw back his head and laughed. “That would be George. He’s from around here, all right. He’s been telling this tall tale about a showdown with the police. Guess it’s not as tall as we thought.”
“George?” For some reason, discovering my cellmate had such an ordinary name disappointed me. “So Crazyhorse is a nickname?”
“Not exactly. Do you know the history of the real Crazy Horse, Reese?”
I shifted on my chair. We hadn’t learned much Native American history in school, other than ho
w some tribes had terrorized the poor, long-suffering pioneers until the government ‘dealt with the problem’. I’d never taken any of it too seriously. History was written by the victor – everyone knows that. “He was involved in the Battle of Little Big Horn. That’s about it.”
“Involved in the Battle of—” Kinew covered his eyes with a hand and sighed. “Never mind. A fellow by the name of George Crook ordered Crazy Horse’s arrest. The fact that he was named George was always an affront to our Crazyhorse, so he took the name of the great warrior instead.”
“Makes sense. Who wants to be named George, anyway?”
“My father’s name is George.” Kinew’s eyes bored into mine, making me squirm, but as I fumbled for an apology, he grinned. “Just kidding.” He leaned back in his chair, sending a haphazardly piled stack of books to the floor. “You said you had a message from Greyeyes. Should I take this to mean the great detective is employing college students as messenger boys now?”
The idea of being her lackey got my back up, even though it was obvious he was teasing me. “She would have come herself, but she’s had some…health problems.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she’s on the mend?”
“She’s out of the hospital now.” That was all I was comfortable saying. It would feel strangely disloyal to discuss the detective’s mental state with this stranger. “She wanted me to ask you about Little Dove.”
“Little Dove?” His brow furrowed, adding another layer of ice around my heart. Shit. Whoever Little Dove was, she was driving the detective insane. If this guy didn’t have answers, I wasn’t sure where to go next. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Detective Greyeyes has been having nightmares. Bad nightmares. But the thing is, she doesn’t think they’re dreams. She thinks she’s remembering something that happened in the past. It started when I found this.” Digging in my pocket, I carefully retrieved the arrowhead. Its edges were sharp as knives. Kinew reared back from it as if it were a viper.
“Last time I touched that thing, it nearly sent me through a wall.”
I stared at the artifact, which was dull and dusty, both innocent and wicked looking at the same time. “What do you—?”
“I can’t explain it. Somehow, it must harness static electricity, but that was some shock. It’s a wonder my heart didn’t stop. Are you sure this is the same arrowhead? When I saw it on Greyeyes, it looked new, like a replica.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the one I found in our tent. I don’t know anything about a replica.”
“Damn thing was bleeding, do you know that? At first, I thought Greyeyes had been cut, but the blood was coming from that.” The chief grimaced at the arrowhead. He’d inched backwards until he was right against the window now, as far away from the artifact as he could get.
I hadn’t known, and though I didn’t pretend to understand it, Kinew’s reaction was a relief. I’d felt like a moron, coming here and telling him a bunch of stuff that made no sense to me. The arrowhead was just a plain ol’ arrowhead whenever I’d seen it, but Greyeyes had experienced something very different. And now the chief’s reaction was backing her up, at least in part.
As best I could, I reiterated everything she’d told me: how she’d woken up with the arrowhead hanging from her neck on a cord, how she’d doubled over with nausea whenever she’d tried to take it off, the strange dreams, how it had tangled in her hair so badly her husband had needed to cut it free. Kinew listened as I babbled on, his face expressionless. He waited for a moment after I finally stopped speaking, and then took a sip of his undoubtedly cold coffee.
“Strong Lake has always belonged to our people, but that doesn’t mean its history has been peaceful. Some of the Elders speak of a lost tribe that settled the land. Perhaps this arrowhead belonged to them.”
“Lost tribe?”
“These Elders believe there was another nation, a thriving community, long before we arrived, but something caused them to vanish. No sign of them was ever found, not even their bodies. Pioneers came later, but a smallpox epidemic wiped them out. The land stood empty for years. Even now, no one really wants it. It’s a constant battle with the state, each of us longing to abdicate responsibility.”
Smallpox. The little boys who’d visited the campground had been stricken with smallpox. I hadn’t seen them, but Greyeyes and her partner had, and it sounded like an agonizing disease. Could their suffering be related to the lost tribe? Was it possible for a virus to live that long? And if so, why hadn’t I been affected?
“But if you never found any sign of them, how do you know the lost tribe existed?”
“Same way Greyeyes knows about this Little Dove. Some of our Elders have had similar dreams, only we don’t call them dreams or nightmares. We call them visions.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The woman’s name was Rose. She had a shy, gentle smile and kind eyes. I had to duck to avoid smacking my head on the doorframe as I entered her home. Following behind me, Kinew nearly had to crawl.
Mom would be home by now. The thought of the fear she’d experienced, discovering I wasn’t there, made my gut twist with guilt. I’d expected this to be a quick errand – get in, get out, get home before anyone noticed I was gone. But Kinew had insisted this Rose person hear Greyeyes’ story from my own lips.
“Would you like tea?” Her voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear it. My initial impulse was to say no, to not put her to any trouble, but I glimpsed the chief nodding at me out of the corner of my eye. Maybe a refusal would be seen as impolite.
“Sure, that would be great. Please.”
While she headed to the kitchen, Kinew beckoned me to a chair. Rose was a doll-sized woman, and her trailer was a doll-sized house. When I sat down, my knees nearly reached my chin. Just when I’d thought things couldn’t get more awkward.
The arrowhead jabbed into my skin, making me curse. At the chief’s insistence, I’d put it back in my pocket. It was obvious he didn’t want anything to do with it.
“Problem?” Kinew asked, noticing my fleeting expression of pain. The guy was sharp. Nothing got past him, which didn’t make him easy to be around. I preferred to blend into the background.
Since when, Jess taunted in my brain. When she was still alive, she’d mocked what she’d called my ‘gigantic ego’ countless times.
You know what I like about you, Reese? she used to say. Your humility.
Well, I had humility now, in spades. Getting thrown in jail in front of your family and having a cop play baseball with your face could do that to a guy, as it turned out. I wondered if Jess would like me any better now, if we’d argue less. To my surprise, my eyes twitched, stinging. “No,” I said, finding my voice. “No problem.”
We stared at each other in silence until Rose returned with a plastic tray. She handed me a mug from Yale University while I tried not to wonder where she got it. Old habits – and presumptions – died hard. “Thank you.”
“Happy to give tea to the hero,” she said, smiling so broadly dimples appeared on the top of her cheeks. “Thank you for what you did for my brother.”
At my look of confusion, Kinew grinned. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Rose is Crazyhorse’s sister.”
I gaped at the woman in shock. Petite, pretty, and ageless, it was difficult to believe she came from the same planet as Crazyhorse, let alone the same womb.
Rose saw my expression and sighed. “We used to look alike, so much so that people thought we were twins. But my poor brother, he’s let the bottle rot his mind and destroy his face, his teeth…his life.”
Kinew reached for her hand, swallowing it in his. “It’s a disease, Rose.”
She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. “I know. It’s not his fault. It’s just hard to watch.” When she opened her eyes again, the sadness had disappeared. “In any case, my brother is now your biggest fan. You hav
e made a friend for life.”
“Then Crazyhorse is all right?” I never had been able to get any answers about what had happened to him since I left the hospital.
“He’s fine. When that cop hit you, he started yelling, and those cowards took off. He told me how you stuck up for him, though, tried to protect him. No one has done anything like that for him in a long, long time. You’re his hero, and mine.”
Her words left me speechless. There was nothing I could say without making it worse. Any mention of Archer or what had happened in the cell would bring the dark cloud over our heads again. So I thanked her, even though being called a hero made me feel like a fraud. If I were really a hero, I would have found some way to save my friends. Jess would still be alive.
She leaned closer and squeezed my arm. “Now, what can I do for you boys? I’m getting the feeling this isn’t a social visit.”
“No, it’s not. There’s been more trouble up at the campground. One of the detectives investigating the murder has been having some disturbing visions. Reese, can you show Rose the arrowhead?” Kinew asked.
“Are you sure?” After what it had apparently done to Greyeyes and Kinew, I didn’t like the thought of exposing anyone else to whatever evil the artifact contained, but Kinew nodded.
“Rose has abilities the rest of us don’t.”
She held out her hand, waiting as I removed the arrowhead from my pocket, careful not to scratch my fingers. At some point, it had gotten a lot sharper than I’d remembered.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It will not hurt me.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I handed it over. To do otherwise would have been patronizing.
Her fingers snapped closed around it like a hinge. She raised her chin to the ceiling, closing her eyes once more. In dismay, I watched as blood trickled from her closed fist and I moved to take the arrowhead back. Kinew put his hands on my shoulders, restraining me.
“Don’t.”
Those Who Came Before Page 19
