Double down, p.2
Double Down, page 2
Dela turned onto Timine Way and pulled into the parking area on the south side of the Public Safety building.
Her mind raced with who could have been hiding in the house because that had to have been where the killer came from. It had to have been someone who’d watched the man attack her and then killed him.
She automatically parked and shifted in her seat, staring at Jacob. “Someone, besides the neighbor, must have seen Winter attack me and then killed him after I’d left.”
“You’re admitting to being there is good, but you know Detective Jones is going to work hard at proving you killed him.” Jacob peered into her eyes. “If you say you didn’t kill him that’s all I need to know.”
She held his gaze. “I didn’t kill him. He was rolling around on the ground clutching his crotch when I left there with the donkey.”
Jacob’s brows touched above his nose. “Why were you taking the donkey?”
“Ina, Mrs. Winter, called me this morning.” She went on to tell him about the conversation.
“She said her husband wouldn’t be there?” Skepticism crackled in Jacob’s voice.
“Mugshot and I jog by that house nearly every day. I hadn’t seen a car in over a week and it was always dark. When she said her husband wouldn’t be there, I assumed she knew he wasn’t living there. The neighbor had been feeding the donkey.”
Detective Dick, well, she better quit calling him that if she wanted to get on his good side. Detective Richard Jones stood at the back door of the tribal police station staring at her car.
“All I have to do is tell what happened and even he,” she bobbed her head toward the detective, “will see I didn’t do it.” Dela exited her car and walked up to the door with Jacob beside her. She wondered where Heath was. He’d help her get out of this mess. He knew the truth. She’d called him as soon as she’d started walking down the road with Jethro.
“Take her into the interview room,” Dick said.
Dela walked by the detective, following Jacob down a short hall to a door.
The room they entered was a small conference-type room. She sat at the table, facing the door. She wanted to see everyone who came through the door to question her before they opened their mouths. One of her specialties was sizing up people. Dela wanted to know if they were out to get her, like the detective, or on her side when they came through the door.
Jacob had taken her purse somewhere and now stood inside the room to the side of the door. His face was blank. He did believe her, didn’t he?
Her stomach started gurgling with dread. She sat for nearly thirty minutes, either staring at her hands on the table in front of her or at Jacob. She finally cleared her throat. “If no one else is going to come in and talk to me, at least you could visit with me.”
Her friend gave a slight, nearly imperceptible flick of his head.
Dela’s gaze traveled around the room and that’s when she spotted the light flickering on the camera up in the corner of the room. She was being videoed. Jacob didn’t want to get in trouble by talking to her or possibly spilling something he wasn’t supposed to tell her.
She leaned back in the chair, propping her prosthesis on the chair across from her. “I do have a job to do. It would be nice if I could get back to it today.”
Another ten minutes and the door opened. She forced a smile on her face as Detective D-Jones dropped a folder on the table in front of the chair she had her prosthesis propped on. She pulled her leg back and sat up straighter.
“Detective Jones, could you tell me when and how the man I’m suspected of killing died?” She wasn’t going to be treated like a suspect.
“How do you know you are a suspect?” The man’s bushy graying eyebrows lowered down over his eyes as he stared at her.
“If I wasn’t a suspect, I wouldn’t have been escorted to the station. You would have asked me any questions you had at work.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair.
“Mrs. Swan called in that she found Paul Winter dead after seeing you and he in a fight and you walked off leading a donkey.” The detective tapped a finger on the file. “Do you deny any of what Mrs. Swan said?”
“I will agree, I did go to the Winter’s property to collect the donkey. Mrs. Winter called me this morning and asked if I would take in the donkey. It was out of food and her neighbor had been feeding it. She told me her husband wouldn’t be at home. I hadn’t planned on any confrontation with the man.” She uncrossed her arms and leaned on the table. “I walked over and found a halter and lead rope in the building next to the donkey’s pasture. When I stepped out of the building, Mr. Winter was running at me with a knife in one hand. I used the rope to tangle up his hand and fling the knife away.” She left out how her prosthesis landed her on the ground. “I tripped and he jumped on top of me, the knife held in the air above me. I slammed my fists into his crotch and he rolled off, dropping the knife. While he moaned and rolled around on the ground, I picked up the knife, stuck it in a crack in the wall inside the building, and caught the donkey. Mr. Winter was still alive and moaning when Jethro and I walked back to my house.”
Detective Jones stared at her. “Do you expect me to believe you put that knife in a crack in the wall? That knife is the murder weapon.”
Chapter Three
Dela’s gaze shot to Jacob. Had he known about the knife when he’d rode with her to the police station? “But I didn’t stab him. I put the knife in the crack in the wall. If my fingerprints are on the knife, it’s because I took it away from him. Not by using it on the man.”
“You sure it wasn’t self-defense?” Detective Dick accused, his eyes lighting up.
He was trying to get her to say something he could use against her. “No. I didn’t stab him in self-defense. My self-defense move was crushing his balls. I put that knife in the building and never used it on him.”
“We’ll see. I have people at your place looking for proof you stabbed the man.” Detective Dick stood. “You’ll be detained here until your residence has been thoroughly searched.”
Blood whooshed from her head and she felt faint. She didn’t want the police to go through her house. To see the handicapped bars, the crutches, her running prosthesis. To the outside world she wanted to appear whole. Normal. There were few people she allowed into her disabled bubble. There was no way she wanted this jack-hole of a detective knowing her weakness.
The door closed and her gaze flew to Jacob, still standing by the door. He didn’t say a word. She glanced at the light on the video camera. It remained on. Double frickin’ shit! Rage shoved fear out of her head. Action was what settled her nerves and anger better than anything. But in this small room, any action she took would be recorded and Dickhead would take it as her fear of being found the killer.
She breathed in slow and let it out even slower. Oxygen flowed again and her thoughts collected. Once her anger was under control, she began to think clearly. Who would want to set her up for the murder of Paul Winter?
Her first thought was Ina. After all, she had asked Dela to go to her house and said her husband wouldn’t be there. Dela would have never gone after the donkey alone if she had thought Winter was living there. And where the hell was Heath? She hadn’t brought up the fact she’d called him after her confrontation with the victim. She wanted him in on the investigation. He wouldn’t believe she’d kill someone.
Questions. She had so many questions to ask of Heath, the neighbor, Ina. Someone had to have been in the Winter house watching the man attack her and used that as a means to frame her for his murder. But who? And why?
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Dela glanced at the video camera every five to ten minutes. After an hour, the light finally disappeared. Jacob had been replaced with a female officer. Dela didn’t know the woman. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, a little younger than Dela herself.
“Can I get a glass of water?” Dela asked.
The woman stepped out of the room and returned within seconds. She didn’t have a glass or anything. Reading her name tag, Harper, Dela tried to remember if that was the name of a Umatilla family. The woman had a deep bronze complexion, dark hair in a braid down her back, and brown eyes.
The door opened and a hand appeared with a bottle of water.
Officer Harper grasped the bottle, walked across to the table, and set the water in reach of Dela.
“Thank you.” Dela unscrewed the top and drank half the bottle before taking it away from her lips. The room was stifling. She glanced at her watch. She’d now been in this room for over three hours. Raising a stink would only give Detective Dick more reason to think she did it.
She sighed, leaned back in the chair, and studied the officer. “Are you new to the tribal force?”
The woman glanced at the video camera and relaxed her stance. “Yeah. I’ve only been here about a month.”
“On the force or on the reservation?” Dela asked. She didn’t want to make friends with the officer but she was bored and needed something to occupy her mind.
“Both. I’d just received my degree in criminal justice when my husband filled an open teaching position at the Pendleton High School.” Officer Harper leaned against the wall. “I saw there was an opening on the tribal police force and applied. I was shocked when they requested an interview.”
“You must have had something they wanted on the force,” Dela said, keeping an eye on the video camera in case it came on. She didn’t want to say anything, even if it had nothing to do with why she was here. Detective Dick would find a way to mix up her words.
The officer grinned. “It seemed they needed a woman on the force to help with domestic disputes.”
“I’m sure you are good at your job, too.”
The door opened. Jacob stepped into the room. “Detective Jones says you may go, but he’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dela said, standing, taking a moment to move her leg back and forth before walking out into the hallway where she was pretty sure the detective would be hovering to get one more jab in.
A glance at her watch said she’d missed dinner. Popping in on her mom and grabbing something to eat there sounded better than going home, knowing the tribal police had rifled through her belongings. Tomorrow would be soon enough to let everyone at work know she hadn’t killed anyone.
Halfway down the hall, Detective Dick stepped out of an office. “Just because nothing was found at your house, doesn’t mean you didn’t kill the victim.”
She hid the giddiness his words unfurled. She’d known they wouldn’t find anything but many a person had been put in jail over evidence that had been planted. “I will say it again. I did not kill Paul Winter. He was alive when I walked Jethro to my house.”
At the end of the hall, the officer at the desk held out her purse. Dela took it, dug inside for the keys to her car, and walked out the front doors of the building.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
On the drive to her mom’s, Dela tried to call Heath. He either wasn’t answering or was busy. Her evening brightened when she walked into her mom’s house and found Grandfather Thunder sitting at the table eating a piece of apple pie.
“Dela, you didn’t tell me you were coming over.” Her mom placed a plate with pie and ice cream on the table and motioned for her to sit.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment idea.” Dela dug into the treat, savoring the sweet apple and cinnamon flavor. Eating one of her mom’s pies was a bonus. Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the name. Heath.
Where are you?
Mom’s.
See you in a few.
She had hoped to break the news she was a suspect in a murder to her mom easily. Now she needed to do it before Heath arrived. “Heath is headed over here.”
“Oh, good. He’ll get a piece of warm pie, too.” Her mom rose from her seat at the table to get another plate with a slice of pie.
When her mom had sat back down, Dela set her fork down. She glanced at her mom, over to Grandfather Thunder, and back to her mom. “I’ve been at the police station for five hours while they questioned me and searched my house.”
Mom’s fork clattered on her plate. “Why would they do that?”
“Remember last fall when I stopped a man from killing his wife?” She glanced at Grandfather Thunder. He nodded.
“What does that have to do with the police searching your house?” Mom asked.
“The woman called me this morning and asked if I could take in the donkey that was left behind when she and her son left. Mugshot and I always stop and visit with the donkey on our jog. Anyway, she told me her husband wasn’t at their home and asked if I would get the donkey and keep him.” She picked up the cup of coffee her mom had placed in front of Dela’s plate and swallowed. Two sets of eyes watched her, with the same worry and caring they had her whole life.
“There wasn’t a car in the driveway.” She went on to relay what had happened just as she had to Detective Dick several hours before. “When I left with the donkey, Paul Winter was alive and clutching his crotch. The knife was stuck in a crack in the wall.”
“Someone used your trip to get the donkey to get away with murder,” Grandfather Thunder said.
Dela settled her gaze on the older man who had been the only grandfather she’d known. And he wasn’t blood-related.
A knock on the door sent her mom out of the kitchen.
“Who would want Paul Winter dead?” Dela asked the elderly Umatilla man raising a fork of pie and melting ice cream to his mouth.
“There are many. He not only beat his wife, but he also made his money from illegal activities.”
Heath entered the room, walking straight to Dela and crouching beside her chair. “Are you okay?”
She stared into his familiar brown eyes. Instead of the merriment they usually held, there was concern. Dela nodded. “I know I didn’t kill him. He was alive when I left.”
Heath nodded. “I went over there as soon as you called me instead of going to the casino. All I did was drive by and see he was sitting up when a call came and I headed off to check on it.”
Dela sat up straighter. “Did you tell Detective Dick you were there and saw the man was alive?”
Heath ducked his head, dropping eye contact. “The call I received was bogus. I got there and nothing had happened. That’s when I received the call about a possible body at the Winter residence. As soon as I saw the body with a knife in his chest, I knew the only way I could stay on the case and help prove your innocence was to keep quiet about your call to me.”
Dela started to protest.
“Think about it. If Detective Jones knew you had called me and I vouched that the man was alive, he would say we did that to give you an alibi.”
Remembering how hard Dickhead had wanted to catch her up in anything that would make her the killer, she slowly nodded her head. “Do you know who searched my house?” Her gaze held his. He knew she was private about her disability.
He grinned. “A newbie and me. I made the new guy stand outside while I checked the house for clothing with blood.”
She studied him. “You really searched the house?”
Heath shrugged. “I had to take as much time as it would take to search, so I just walked from room to room opening drawers and moving things to take up time.” He peered into her eyes. “Even though I know the truth, I had to do my job.”
“Thank you for being the one to do the search.” She sighed. “I didn’t want Detective Dick to see how I live.”
Heath rose and sat at the table where Mom had placed the other plate of pie and a cup of coffee.
“So, what happens now?” Mom asked.
“We’ll start digging into Paul Winter’s life and see if we can come up with anyone who had a grudge.” Heath dug into his pie. “Mmmm, this is good. Thanks, Mrs. Belden.”
Her mom’s cheeks flushed. “You’re welcome, Heath. This brings back memories of when you two were in school.”
Dela had been getting a lot of this kind of talk ever since Heath moved back. Her mom was excited that he was back in Dela’s life. However, Dela was still trying to figure out her feelings for the man her high school sweetheart had become.
Grandfather Thunder cleared his throat. “You might look into the people Paul was making meth for.”
Chapter Four
Dela turned her head at the same time as Heath and they both stared at the older man.
Heath found his voice first. “Paul Winter cooked meth?”
“That’s why Ina sent their boy away. He started making it in their home and she didn’t want the child around the fumes.” The old man raised his cup of coffee to his mouth.
“Not to mention it can blow up.” Heath leaned back in his chair. “Why doesn’t the tribal police know about this?”
Grandfather Thunder shrugged.
Dela now understood Ina’s need to keep her boy safe from his father and anyone who wanted to take revenge on the man. “Someone had to have been in the house watching when Winter attacked me and when Heath rolled up in his tribal vehicle.” Dela spun her head to look at Heath. “How long was it between you driving up to the residence and the call that came in to take you away from there?”
“Only a couple of minutes. But if they were watching the road for traffic to sneak out and kill Winter, they would have seen the tribal car turn onto the road and could have called it in as soon as they saw me.” Heath finished off his pie and sipped his coffee. “Which means they would have had to know I would get the call and leave.”
“You think it was someone who knows police procedures?” Dela asked.
Heath shrugged. “That or someone who just knows how the tribal police operate. That could be anyone who has had dealings with us.”
Dela stood. “I’m going home. I’m glad you searched my house. I didn’t want to go back knowing it had been a stranger going through my things.”
Heath stood. “I’ll walk you out.” He put a hand on Grandfather Thunder’s shoulder. “It was good seeing you. I see Mrs. Belden keeps you well-fed.”
