Merciless (15 page)

“Not fair,” she wheezed. “But fine, I’m done. I’ll admit, with your friends and his . . . there’s
a weird mix of people here.” We both glanced at John-John fussing around his mother.
Devlin on his knees in front of the TV. Then Rollie and Verline exchanging harsh words
in the corner. Sophie moved around, but without her usual hustle. “How is Sophie holding
up?”

“Look at her. When I suggested she might want to slow down, she acted like I was firing
her on the spot.” I shot Geneva a sharp look. “And yes, I offered to keep paying her
salary while she took a leave of absence to be with her daughter, but she said, and
I quote, ‘I won’t be takin’ no one’s charity, hey.’ ”

“Stubborn woman. But not surprising. I think that’s where you learned it.” Her focus
shifted. “Excuse me, but I have to make sure Krissa eats more than cookies for supper.”

Somehow I ended up holding Joy again, who wasn’t happy because she saw food and didn’t
have any. I plopped her into her high chair, right by Rollie and Verline. When Joy
shrieked and pounded her fists on the plastic tray, Rollie made a disgruntled noise
and left. Verline didn’t follow him.

I tossed a couple of animal crackers on Joy’s tray, because my food-nazi sister had
specific dietary restrictions for her daughter. I’d gotten my ass chewed for introducing
my niece to the deliciousness of chocolate ice cream.

I studied Verline. She was so damn young. A little on the plain side. Still carrying
a few extra pounds from her last baby. When she tucked a hank of hair behind her ear,
I noticed a discolored spot on her cheek, now faded to yellowish green.

A bruise. On her face.

I froze. Had Rollie hit her? This young girl who’d borne his children? No other plausible
reasons for a facial bruise surfaced.

Could I get Verline alone to get to the bottom of it? And if I found out Rollie had
caused that mark? I’d . . . I wasn’t sure what I’d do. But I sure as shit wouldn’t
let it slide.

I mingled. I chatted. I let liquor soothe me. The crowd made short work of the sloppy
joes, chips, molasses cookies, calico baked beans, and Sophie’s famous radish-and-pineapple
coleslaw.

When I saw Verline snap at Rollie and then storm outside, I followed her. She’d cut
into the sheltered area between the two barns. The bluish glow of the yard light illuminated
the darkness, so I wasn’t completely night-blind.

She fired up a smoke and inhaled deeply, resting her shoulders and one foot against
the outside barn wall.

“Verline? You all right?”

She didn’t seem annoyed at my presence. “I’m fine. Just takin’ a smoke break. Didja
need something?”

“I wanted to tell you thanks for coming tonight.”

Her eyes zoomed to me, my back pressed against the opposite barn wall. “You came out
here in the cold to do that?”

“No. I came out to ask you what’s going on with you and Rollie. You both seem tense.”

“He’s bein’ a dick, so I’m bein’ a bitch. That about sums it up.”

Her words weren’t laced with venom, as I expected, but sadness.

“Why? Has he said somethin’ to you?” she demanded.

“No, but I’ve run into him a couple of times in the last week, and he’s been grouchy.”

Verline snorted. “Fucker is beyond grouchy.” She inhaled and tipped
her face to the sky as she exhaled. “He’s pissed off we have another kid. Ain’t like
I can do anything about it now.”

I didn’t respond.

“He bitches all the time about bein’ too old to be around babies. He don’t want nothin’
to do with them. Pisses me off because I thought he was different than other men.
Makes me sick that he . . .” Her chin trembled, but she firmed it and smoked angrily.
“I won’t keep my babies in a place they ain’t wanted. I know what that feels like.”

“Is that how you ended up with Rollie?”

“Maybe. Met him when I was thirteen. Started chasing after him when I was sixteen.
He never seemed old to me. He was a real man. Not like the mean men I’d been around.
Drunks. Losers. Druggies. Wannabe gangbangers. Rollie talked to me. He listened to
me. He didn’t treat me like a stupid little girl. He treated me like I mattered.”

I schooled myself against commenting on Rollie treating himself to sex with a young
thang who had a serious case of hero worship.

“I moved in with him when I was seventeen. Thought since he’d done such a good job
takin’ care of me that I could return the favor.” Verline puffed on her cigarette
and blew out a stream of smoke. “Within two months I was knocked up. He wasn’t upset,
but all his kids that speak to him ’cept for Junior were majorly pissed off.”

“Why?”

“They think Rollie’s got money, and when he dies the pie’s gonna be grabbed by another
grubby fist. They oughten be thinkin’ that way at all. No wonder he don’t want nothin’
to do with any of his kids or his ex-wives.” Verline tilted her head and stared at
me through the smoky haze drifting from her mouth. “He likes you. Respects you. I
think he kinda wishes I was more like you. Tough.” She shrugged. “But he don’t want
you the way he wants me.”

Thank God. “I’m not blowing smoke up your skirt when I say Rollie’s always spoken
of you with . . .” Shit. Why was I getting in the middle of this?

Her eyes narrowed. “With what?”

My brain urged me to lie. But my tongue had been dosed with truth serum. “Exasperation.
And affection. Does that make sense?”

She smiled. “Yep. If you’da said he spouted his undying love for me, I’da called bullshit.
But seein’s I recognize that scary-ass, don’t-ever-fuck-with-me look in your eyes
that I see in his? Well, I ain’t gonna tangle with you. I ain’t dumb.”

There was my opening. “So are you dumb enough to let Rollie beat on you, Verline?”
I pointed to the side of her face. “I saw the bruise, so don’t lie to me.”

Her sausage fingers skimmed the surface before her eyes met mine. “That’s one thing
Rollie ain’t never done. Hit me. Truth is, Taj had a tantrum and smacked me in the
face really hard with a metal fire truck.” She laughed and coughed at the same time.
“Even I know how lame that sounds. But it’s true. And Rollie was pissed because I
was holding the baby at the time, and he thinks Taj is a hellion. At sixteen months.
Give me a friggin’ break. He’s a baby.” She tossed her cigarette to the ground and
crushed it beneath the toe of her athletic shoe. “Rollie was so sweet to me after
that. Funny. Like my old Rollie, not like this angry old man version of him that I
don’t even know.”

I believed her. Rollie had a violent streak as wide as mine. Granted, I’d never seen
it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware it was there.

“It’s confusing as hell. When it’s good between us, I don’t wanna leave. But when
it’s bad . . .”

“Where are your kids tonight?”

“My sister is watching them. I wanted to come, even when I knew Rollie wouldn’t. So
I didn’t tell him where we were goin’ until after he got in my car.”

That would’ve gone over well.

“I’ve heard about this place. Rollie talks about your mom sometimes. Course, I knew
your dad when he was sheriff. So knowing all that . . . I was curious to see if your
family is as fucked up as mine.”

“What conclusion did you draw?”

“No contest. Your family is the friggin’ Cosbys compared to mine.”

Pounding footsteps echoed. Lex; Doug; TJ’s youngest kid, Clay; and Luke’s youngest
kid, Dirk—they all skidded to a stop as they came between the buildings. “Oh, sorry,
we were looking for . . .” They didn’t finish the sentence, just raced off.

We started back to the house.

“Ain’t you gonna whip out some advice?” Verline asked. “Or give me a pep talk about
how all of this will blow over and get better?”

I faced her. “Nope. You’ll figure it out, or you won’t. Besides, if I gave you advice,
would you take it?”

“Hell, no.”

“That’s what I figured. But I will wish you luck.”

Three men were arguing in front of the steps. I jogged over when I saw Dawson wasn’t
around. “What’s going on?”

“You’re the same sneaking lying bastard.” Devlin sneered at Rollie, ignoring me. “That
shit ain’t gonna help her.”

I looked at John-John. He sported a look of hatred I’d never seen before.

Rollie crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not such a bastard when I’m lending you
money, Devlin. She’s runnin’ out of options, and so are you.”

“Shut up.”

“How much are you into Saro for?” Rollie calmly asked Devlin.

Devlin shot John-John a look before he glared at Rollie. “You don’t know what you’re
talkin’ about.”

“I know you got debts all over the place. I know you ain’t got a pot to piss in to
pay off them debts. I know them guys ain’t as patient as me.” Rollie looked at John-John.
“You gonna bail him out again?”

“Not your concern,” John-John snapped.

“It is a concern to me because it’s my business. My money. That money wasn’t a gift;
it was a loan. You ask him how much he owes me. Then you see if you’ve got the right
to be uppity with me,
winkte
.”

I’d watched the exchange with my mouth hanging open.

“Enough.”

Now we all looked at Penny Pretty Horses as she slowly moved down the steps.

“Mom, what are you doing out here without a coat?”

“You afraid I’ll catch my death of cold?”

I bit back a laugh.

But John-John heard the noise and whirled around to glare at me. “You think this is
funny? She’s dying of cancer, and you’re laughing?”

Whoa. That was all kinds of bitchy.

Penny patted his arm. “Better to be laughing than crying, eh, Mercy?”

Like I was gonna answer that.

“And you two.” Penny pointed to Devlin and her son. “Leave Rollie alone. I don’t care
about your business with him. I can talk to whoever I want and do whatever I want.”

Rollie took a step closer to Penny. “I don’t need you sticking up for me.”

“Jesus, Rollie, don’t be such a dick,” Verline said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling
him back. “She’s dying.”

“You shut up and stay out of this,” Rollie warned.

“Yeah, why don’t you take your sniveling jailbait girlfriend home and stick a pacifier
in her mouth. It’s probably past her bedtime anyway,” Devlin said.

“You didn’t think I was too young when you were grabbing my ass at the WIC offices,
you fuckin’ pervert,” Verline retorted.

Rollie got in Devlin’s face. “You touched her?”

“Every time I see him, he tries to cop a feel,” Verline added.

“Don’t act like you don’t like the attention,” Devlin sneered. “You’da blown me for
five bucks, like all the other whores your age on the rez.”

“For Christsake, that is enough.” I stepped between them. “Either beat the shit out
of each other so I can jump in and throw a few punches, or knock it the fuck off.
All of you.”

Silence.

“We’re goin’.” Rollie took Verline by the arm, and they argued the entire way he towed
her to their car.

“Thanks for the drink, Mercy. And the hospitality. It’s been nice seein’ you.” Penny
spoke sharply to John-John. “I’m ready to go home now.”

“About damn time. You shouldn’t have come,” John-John said to his mom. “None of us
should be here. I knew this was a bad idea.” He gave me another dark look.

What the hell?

Penny pointed to her brother. “You bring Momma home. No stopping anywhere. No causing
trouble. And you keep your comments to yourself, understand? Momma don’t need your
bullshit tonight. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Devlin grumbled, and went inside the house.

Then I was alone, more confused than ever.

“Well, it ain’t really a dinner party with the Red Leaf and Pretty Horses family until
someone shoots off his mouth or starts throwing punches. At least no one was bleeding.
Or overtly drunk.”

I turned to the sound of Jake’s voice. “Have you been hiding in the shadows the whole
time?”

“Yep. Been there, done that with them more times than I can count, and I know better
than to get involved.”

“You wanna tell me what’s going on with your family?”

“Nope. ’Cause trust me, Mercy, you don’t wanna know.”

People streamed out of the house so I stayed put to say my good-byes. After the last
vehicle started down the driveway, I trudged up the steps.

I stopped just inside the doorway. The kitchen looked like a scud missile had hit
it. Food everywhere. Plates and garbage everywhere.

Guess I knew where my place was in the dinner-party hierarchy. Cleanup crew.

T
hree buildings, built close together, made up the Eagle River Reservation tribal seat
of power. The tribal police station on the right, which also housed the jail, was
the largest building. The tribal services building in the middle contained a mishmash
of service offices, including the Bureau of Indian Affairs—BIA, WIC, Department of
Social Services, Social Security Administration, energy assistance programs, and the
two rooms the FBI rented for victim specialists. The third structure on the left side
was the Eagle River Tribal Headquarters building. It housed several different entities,
all involved with the business of running the tribe. The top floor was devoted to
the tribal court system. The second floor held the tribal council’s business offices
and meeting spaces. The entire first floor, which was actually the basement since
all three buildings had been built into the side of a hill, was devoted to tribal
archives. Everything from the official tribal rolls to the newspaper archives—since
the tribe owned the newspaper—to storage of closed cases, open old cases, police logs,
and arrest reports from the tribal police were down there, plus historical documents
dating back to when the tribe had taken the land offer from the U.S. government and
became part of the reservation system.

I took the stairs and found the door locked. I had to use a buzzer to gain admission.
“Yes?” echoed through the intercom.

“Special Agent Mercy Gunderson, FBI. I’ve been cleared with the tribal police through
the tribal council to access certain archives.”