Concrete Evidence (22 page)

First they delivered the EA to the environmental compliance officer, a sixty-something tribal member with a warm smile. She was thrilled with the information Erica had gathered on Thermo-Con. The odd radiocarbon date was a concern, and she immediately led them to the room where all the land records, both military and tribal, were stored.

They spent an hour poring over old maps and ethnographic data and found nothing to indicate the property had ever been a cemetery or prehistoric burial ground. “We need to talk to Sam Riversong about this,” Erica said.

Lee’s mood took a nosedive. The radiocarbon date didn’t warrant a meeting with the tribal chairman. At best, she should follow up with the environmental compliance officer. But Erica was pushing this to the top, and Lee wanted to know why. He knew in his gut she wasn’t acting out of concern for the bones.

Once again they found themselves waiting in the game room in the shiny new tribal office building. Lee went straight to the pool table and racked the balls. He would distract Erica with the game and try to find out what her agenda was.

The problem was, she distracted him. Every time she leaned over the table, he felt a stirring in his gut that told him this was no ordinary attraction. There was something about her that touched him in a primal way. He’d known he wanted her from the first, but what he wanted scared him: he wanted to break through the shields she’d constructed around herself. He’d only seen glimpses of her relaxed and happy. He wanted more.

One thing was certain, she didn’t like to lose, and she focused on the game with fierce concentration, determined not to make any mistakes.

She leaned down for another shot, and he wished she were wearing the tight V-neck T-shirt she’d worn all weekend. She’d gone shopping Saturday evening and managed to find a cheap but respectable outfit, but the clothes were too large and did nothing for her figure.

He decided to rattle her. Leaning against her back, he slid his arms along hers and repositioned her cue. “You’re too far to the left for that bank shot.”

She pulled back the stick in a fast, hard jab, ramming the butt end into his ribs. The cue ball hit the rail, where it bounced wildly and missed the striped ball that had been her target.

Lee rubbed his side. “Damn. You’re as good with a cue as you are at the bag.”

“Consider yourself lucky—I didn’t want to hurt you…too much.”

He backed her into the table and dropped his voice so it wouldn’t go farther than her ears. “Sounds kinky. We should come up with a safe word.” His lips hovered above hers.

She pushed at his chest and leaned away from him. “Please. You’ve got trouble written all over you. You’re too young, immature, and spoiled. And lack of finesse leads to boring sex.”

He choked on her assertion. “What do you mean, lack of finesse?”

“College boys are all grope and hurry with no understanding of foreplay.”

“Sounds like a challenge to me.”

“It wasn’t,” she protested, but he could see from the blue in her eyes she was turned on. Hell, yeah, it was a challenge.

She pushed on his chest again.

“I’m determined to redeem your opinion of me. Come to my room tonight.” Somewhere in this game, he’d lost sight of what was real and what was acting, but his plea did sound like a college boy, so at least he was in character.

“Not a chance. Now are you going to take your shot?”

“If you think I handle this stick well, wait until you see—”

She cut him off. “Shoot, before I use my stick to whack your balls.”

“Ouch, I hope we’re still talking about the game. Let’s see, you missed your shot entirely, so it’s ball-in-hand for me.”

“And that’s no different from how it will be tonight, tomorrow night, and the rest of your nights until you go back to school—your stick, your balls, your hand. Alone.”

He laughed. He thought about mentioning Lily the chemist being willing to keep him company, but he was done baiting her. He picked up the cue ball and used it to line up an easy shot at the corner pocket. “Why do you want to talk to Riversong?”

She looked like she was about to speak, then stopped, and he knew he’d startled her with the change of subject after the playful conversation.

He took his shot, sinking the last of his solids. He knew it wouldn’t be possible to get her to suddenly confess her agenda, but he thought she
wanted
to tell him. She wanted to trust him.

He’d never used sex for anything other than sharing pleasure with someone he wanted to be with, but having sex with Erica as a shortcut to earning her trust was entirely possible. He needed to know why Novak was sniffing around the Bethesda office. Now.

He sank the eight ball. “Was it worth sacrificing your shot to jab me with your cue?”

“Yes. Retaliation is better than winning.”

Riversong walked into the room. “No, Ms. Kesling. Nothing is better than winning.” Another man followed the chairman into the room. Riversong turned to the man, whom Lee had seen once before. “Don’t you agree, Jake?”

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L
EE WATCHED THROUGH NARROWED
eyes as Novak crossed the room and stopped in front of Erica. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Erica, my dear, it’s good to see you again.”

Her skin was pale, and she looked frightened for a moment before her eyes turned the coldest shade of gray he’d ever seen. She jerked her hand away, straightened her spine, and turned to the chairman. “Mr. Riversong, I see you’re busy. We can meet later.” She took a step toward the door.

Novak grabbed her arm, halting her. “Erica, when will you learn running doesn’t work?”

Adrenaline pulsed through Lee. He wanted to rip the man’s hand off her.

She yanked her arm out of Novak’s grasp. “I’m not running, Jake. I just don’t think it’s proper to negotiate with a client in front of an uninvolved third party.”

“Oh, but darling, I am involved. I’m teaming with Talon & Drake. You and I are going to work together.” Novak looked at her possessively.

Jealousy stabbed Lee. He fought the urge to put Novak in his place. With fists. He settled for the crappy-intern equivalent. “Won’t that be fun?” He draped an arm around her shoulders. “The three of us, working together.”

“You’re the intern, right? Make yourself useful and get us coffee. Sam, Erica, and I need to talk.”

“Jake, shut up or leave,” Riversong said. “You aren’t in charge of this meeting.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much time. I understand there’s a problem with the Thermo-Con house.” He looked expectantly at Erica.

She wriggled her shoulders, and Lee dropped his arm. Novak had rattled her—again. She gathered her composure. “The bones we found are human,” she said. “Today I got the radiocarbon date, which was unclear. It’s possible the bones are a hundred and fifty years old, but there is an equal likelihood they were buried there in 1952.”

Riversong raised a brow. “The year the house was built?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” Riversong paused. “If the radiocarbon date indicates the bones could be a hundred and fifty years old, then this is a tribal matter, and your input is no longer necessary.”

“But your BRAC agreement with the government—”

“Is none of your concern,” Riversong said with sharp finality. The man was done playing with Erica, and from the look on her face, she knew it.

She closed her eyes briefly, and Lee had a sense she was gathering her courage. “Whenever human remains are discovered, I am required to notify the Maryland State Police, the State’s Attorney’s office, and the Maryland Historical Trust, which I have yet to do.”

Riversong’s mouth flattened to a thin line, but Lee had read enough to know Erica spoke the truth.

“Given the lack of clarity on the age of the remains,” she continued, her voice now stronger, “it is possible the State Police or the State’s Attorney will want to pursue a criminal investigation, which will halt all work on the Thermo-Con house indefinitely. But there is a test that would indicate whether or not the 1952 date was erroneous. If that’s the case, then it’s highly likely all parties would agree that this is a tribal matter, and you can deal with the remains as you see fit.”

“What test do you propose?”

“A comparative DNA test. We can compare the bones to Menanichoch DNA. Even if the bones are a thousand years old, there’ll be a match in the DNA, telling us the bones are from a tribal member who was buried long before the army claimed the land and built Fort Belmont.”

Riversong physically recoiled. “No.”

“I know many tribal members are worried about DNA testing because genetic mapping undermines the foundation of your religion. I promise, this DNA test wouldn’t be used for that.”

“My people have been hearing promises for centuries. We’ve been betrayed every time.”

Tension arced between Erica and the tribal chairman, while Jake Novak leaned against the pool table and stared at her with a predatory grin. The man was enjoying this exchange.

“I’ll have the lab send the results directly to me. Our contract will forbid the entry of the DNA into a database. They won’t even know what ethnic group is being mapped.”

Lee decided his role of ignorant intern was useful. “Why is this a problem, when you authorized testing of the bones last week?”

Riversong poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink before answering. “The first test determined the bone was human. Genetic sequencing wasn’t necessary. This test requires genetic sequencing—meaning Menanichoch DNA would be isolated and defined.”

“And you don’t want that?”

He set the glass down. “No, we don’t. Our DNA, our heritage, is all we have left. Pharmaceutical companies want to steal our DNA. They want to use our genes to create pills and vaccines to protect others against diseases to which we are naturally immune. They want to use the core of our existence to save those who stole from us, to save the very people who sent us to boarding schools to make us forget who we are. Others wish to use our DNA to destroy all we have left by undermining our religion and taking away the foundation of our belief system with the claim our ancestors migrated here from the Old World.” He paused. “I don’t like this proposal of yours, Ms. Kesling.”

“This is the quickest way to determine if the bones are Menanichoch or not. Besides, the police could push for the same test, for the same reason, without the same guarantee of privacy for the results,” she said.

“That would only be an issue if
I
choose to notify the police,” Riversong said.

Erica started to speak, but the chairman put out a hand to stop her.

“You forget, you are on tribal land. We are our own nation, and that means we don’t always have to follow state law.”

Erica straightened her shoulders. “But you must comply with your BRAC agreement, which clearly outlines the protocol for dealing with unintentional discoveries of human remains.”

Riversong’s eyes narrowed.

Lee held his breath and felt sweat form on his brow. Erica was right about the BRAC agreement, but still, she was crazy to keep pushing the man this way.

Riversong finally spoke. “Fine. Run the test.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ll need a DNA sample from a tribal member. Will you give it to me?”

“No. Find someone else.”

Her jaw clenched tight.

“Good luck finding a tribal member who’s willing, Cream Puff.”

She shot Novak a glare, then turned to the chairman. “I’ll need another bone fragment.”

Riversong wandered over to the pool table and picked up a cue. “I was told just this morning the new sump failed and shorted out the electrical system. The sump has been removed for repairs, so you shouldn’t have a problem collecting the bone.” Riversong paused. “You have two days to find a tribal member to give you a sample, or I handle this my way.”

She smiled tightly, and Lee wondered if she would ask JT.

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