Innocent Blood

by Linda S. Prather

  Loki shook her head. “I don’t want you to kill him. We need to capture him and find out what he knows. For some reason, someone wants to scare us. I want to know why.”

  “You think the missing hunters aren’t really missing but are part of this?”

  “No, I think they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Grandfather used them to get us here.”

  “I’m going to follow him a short ways and see how much blood he lost.”

  “Don’t go too far. I’ll pack up while you’re gone.”

  Dadron didn’t answer, but Loki knew what he was thinking. She ate the last sandwich and headed for the creek. Wild onions were growing freely in the field around them, and she’d seen some arrowhead leaves near the creek. The bulbs would be delicious in a nice rabbit stew.

  Raymond watched the sun rise. Coming to the cabin had been a mistake, and as El had predicted, the owls had followed him. He would lie down soon and sleep, and once he was rested he would leave. They couldn’t haunt him during the day.

  His hands shook, and he returned to the living room and poured a shot of whiskey. One shot wouldn’t hurt him. More than that, and the dreams would come. The liquor gave him courage, and he turned his thoughts to the man he’d tortured. Soon Raymond would have all the money he’d ever need. His men would find Lokeah, and Dadron would do as he was told to save her.

  An owl hooted, and Raymond finished his drink and laughed as he tossed the glass against the wall. Myths. The tales of foolish old men and women. There was no Ishkitini. No Nalusa Chito. He laughed again, retrieved the glass, and poured another round. And today there would be no dreams.

  Walking outside, he raised the glass. “Soon you will have to find somewhere else to roost, my friends.”

  The owls stared at him, their huge orb-like eyes dark and penetrating. A chill ran down his spine as the young girl walked from the bushes. She stood silently, watching him. Raymond emptied the glass and threw it at her. “Go away!”

  Wings began to flap, and the owls took flight as she continued to watch him.

  “I know who you are. You think you can save them.” Raymond laughed again and raised his fists. “Nobody can save them.”

  The owls swooped toward the porch, and Raymond turned, rushed through the door, and slammed it behind him. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and raised it to his lips. “I killed you, and I will kill them too.”

  15

  Harry reached Jake’s hospital room just as the nurse was leaving. “How is he?”

  “Cantankerous now that the fever has broken. We’ll probably have to tie him down in another day just to keep him here.”

  “Maybe I can give you a hand with that.”

  She waved as she moved down the hall. “Good luck.”

  Luck wasn’t going to do it. Hopefully, working the case—even if he couldn’t be out in the field—would pacify Jake for another day or so. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, partner.”

  “Harry? I thought I dreamed you being here.”

  Pulling up a chair close to the bed, Harry shook his head. “You were pretty out of it. Where’s Merriweather?”

  “Went downstairs for some coffee. So if I wasn’t dreaming, what did you find in Anderson?”

  Harry passed him the photographs and filled him in on the situation with Mrs. Cain and his conversation with Don Ashton. “We’ve got help from that end if we need it.”

  “What do you remember about Loki’s parents’ deaths?”

  The abrupt change of topic stunned him, and Harry shrugged. “Not a lot. They had left the reservation, their brakes failed or a tire blew out or something, and they were hit by a semi. I think both were killed instantly. I’d already moved to Texas at the time, so most of my knowledge came from things said by others. Why are you asking about that, Jake?”

  “I don’t know. Grace told me I should investigate it, that the answers started there.”

  “That was almost thirteen years ago. What would it have to do with what’s going on now?”

  “Maybe nothing, but if we don’t find some answers, all hell is going to break loose if another group of officers is shot or killed.”

  Reginald Merriweather walked in carrying three cups of coffee. “Saw you heading for the elevator, so figured I’d grab an extra cup. Hope you take it black.”

  “Black’s fine.” Harry took the cup and repeated what he’d learned about the Kirby Cain shooting. “Odd that in both instances, three officers were killed, and both men had three children.”

  “And there’s exactly three weeks in between the shootings,” Jake added.

  Merriweather was frowning, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “Something ring a bell, Reggie?”

  “Yeah. One of the officers said that after Rafe shot the third officer, he ran out into the lot and then ejected the shell to reload. Almost like he was begging them to shoot him.”

  “Bet that’s what happened in Anderson too.” Jake lowered his bed. “Why don’t you call Don Ashton and ask him, Harry? If that’s true, then three was all they were ordered to kill.”

  Harry made the call and nodded at Jake. “Thanks, Don. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Same thing?” Jake asked.

  “Too similar to be coincidence.”

  “I think we’ve been looking at this wrong. It isn’t revenge, it’s punishment.”

  Merriweather frowned. “I’m not following you, Jake. Punishment for who?”

  Harry knew exactly where Jake was going. “Rafe was your partner. What’s the worst thing you can imagine having to do, Reggie?”

  His face paled. “Yeah, I see what you mean. But why use Choctaw officers?”

  “Look at what happened at your station and to Mrs. Cain. The punishment continues long after the bodies are buried,” Jake said. “Now that the governor has asked all Choctaw officers to be laid off or suspended until this is investigated, he’ll up his ante.”

  “How?” Merriweather asked.

  Harry sighed and rose. “He’ll start having them kill civilians. Before he’s done, no police officer or member of their families will be safe on the streets.”

  Merriweather shook his head. “That’s a pretty long leap from a couple of officers killing other officers to officers killing civilians. You’re talking about chaos.”

  Jake pressed the morphine button and closed his eyes. “I think that’s exactly what they have in mind. What we don’t know is why, and since I’m stuck here, you two are going to have to do the footwork on this one.”

  “You still want me to head to Pearl River?” Harry asked.

  “Yes and no. I think that has something to do with what’s happening on the reservation. You need to gather all the captains at all the stations and let them know what’s happening. If Ashton’s captain is open-minded, maybe he can help us with the others.”

  “You saw how my captain reacted, and I can pretty much assure you there will be others just as bad,” Reggie said. “Especially if Harry goes in there. They’ll just think he’s trying to make his own people look innocent.”

  “Reggie’s right, Jake. I’ll head back to Anderson in the morning and enlist Ashton’s help. Maybe he can talk to the governor. The odds are against us, and I doubt anything will be done until the first civilians are killed.”

  “Innocent blood,” Jake whispered.

  Loki grimaced as she drank the last of her now cold coffee then cleaned and packed their supplies.

  “I followed him to the edge of the trees. Not enough blood for a serious wound, though. He’ll probably be back tonight,” Dadron said.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “That’s not good.” Dadron chuckled. “Are you still mad at me for last night?”

  “Maybe, but I was thinking about your idea of making them come to us. We could simply stay here another day, set up some traps, and see what happens. We’ve got fresh water available. We do some tracking today, see which way they went, catch a few hours sleep, and be r
eady for them if they come back tonight. If nothing happens tonight, tomorrow we’ll head home.”

  “All right.”

  Loki eyed him warily. “You’re not usually that agreeable.”

  “And you don’t usually give up this easy.”

  “Who said anything about giving up?” Loki unpacked the supplies. “Heading home and going home are two different things. While you’re tracking, look for some fresh meat. I saw some wild onions and arrowhead leaves near the creek. Rabbit stew for dinner sounds good to me.”

  Dadron picked up his rifle. “You’re skinning the rabbit.”

  “Wimp.” Loki shot him a smile. “Don’t be gone too long. I know you’re an adult, but I’m still a worrywart where you and Jules are concerned.”

  “That’s why you’re my favorite sister.”

  “I’m your only sister,” she called after him, his laughter lifting her spirits. Except for the fact that they were looking for a maniac, Loki was enjoying her time alone with Dadron. She pulled a pot from her pack, filled it with water, and tossed in the onions and arrowhead bulbs she’d gathered earlier then set the pot over the fire pit Dadron had constructed. After she’d placed their bags inside the tent, she zipped it, picked up her rifle, and headed for the ridge above them. She’d given Dadron a good enough head start to keep him from suspecting she was shadowing him. She wouldn’t be able to get too close, but thanks to Mr. Blackwell’s binoculars, she wouldn’t have to.

  Dadron smiled as the glint off the binoculars gave him Loki’s exact location at that moment. She’d be disappointed if she knew he’d picked up on her plan immediately. Of course, the fact he could smell those wild onions she’d hidden beside the tent a hundred feet away had given him his first clue. He was glad she was shadowing him. He wouldn’t have to worry about her being at the camp alone. She was tougher than any woman he knew, but she wasn’t the only one who worried when one of them was out in the field on a case. And the guy last night had gone after Loki instead of him, a clear indication it was Loki they were after. If their grandfather was behind this, she would be the one he wanted to break. Dadron was going to make damn sure that didn’t happen.

  His smile disappeared as a trail of blood opened up in front of him. The tracks told a story it didn’t take an expert tracker to read. Their night visitor had run the wrong way, straight into a pack of razorback boars. The smell of blood had probably incensed them, and when he’d run at them, they’d done what any wild animal would do when cornered—they’d attacked and kept attacking until the threat was eliminated.

  He placed two fingers in his mouth and sent out one long whistle followed by two short ones. It was a signal Loki had taught Dadron and Jules as young boys to bring her running. Two long whistles and one short meant approach with caution. She appeared within minutes, her lips pulled down in a pout. “How did you know?”

  “Glint of the sun off the binoculars.” He pointed at the ground. “Looks like our friend had a worse night than we did.”

  They followed the blood through a small cluster of trees, not surprised the man hadn’t made it very far. Dadron knelt and searched what was left of his pockets. “No wallet or anything else for identification. The pigs could have eaten it.” Dadron wiped his hands on the grass and stood. “They pretty much ate everything else.”

  “He’s left us with a huge problem, Dadron.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If he was guarding one of the hunters and has him tied up somewhere, he’ll die of thirst or starve unless we find him. Do you think he was going back to the camp?”

  “Not likely. I think he ran when the bullet clipped him. All he was thinking about was getting out of range of that rifle. Which was why I fired the second time.”

  “Any ideas?”

  He tossed her a bag and picked up his rifle. “There’s not much left of him, but if we don’t bury him, in a few days there won’t be anything left to identify.”

  “The creek meanders around behind the trees. We should be able to find enough rocks there to cover him with a rock grave until we can notify Tim and get someone out here to remove the body.”

  “All right. We’ll bury him then go back to the camp. I’ll try to pick up his trail from when he came in last night. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to go back to where the four split up yesterday and hope we follow the right one.”

  “What’s this?” Loki asked, shaking the bag he’d tossed her.

  Dadron grinned. “Dinner. I remember you saying something about rabbit stew.”

  16

  “No need for you to rent a motel room when I’ve got plenty of room at my house. To be honest, I’d enjoy the company.” Reggie pulled into his driveway and parked. “Since the shooting, I’ve lost a lot of friends.”

  “No one will ever forget, but once the truth comes out, hopefully some of them will forgive.” Harry followed Reggie inside what was clearly a bachelor’s pad. Clothes were tossed across the sofa, and pizza boxes were parked on the coffee table next to the remote for the large-screen TV.

  “Sorry about the mess. I have a woman who comes in once a week to clean. She’ll be here tomorrow.” Reggie picked up the pizza boxes and headed for the kitchen. “You want a beer?”

  “Point me in the direction of my room and a hot shower, and I’ll take two when I’m done.”

  “Down the hall on the left. Got your own private bathroom.”

  Harry tossed his luggage on the bed then removed his boots and socks before allowing his toes to sink into the plush carpet. A quick glance had told him the house hadn’t always been a bachelor’s pad. This room definitely had a woman’s touch, from the lacy white curtains to the pink-flowered bedspread. The thought of a nice cold brew got him moving toward the bath.

  Thirty minutes later, he entered a much cleaner living room and sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re cooking, but it smells delicious.”

  “Wasn’t much to choose from. It’s bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes.” Reggie popped the top on a can and handed it to him. “Beer’s cold. Maybe if we drink enough, we won’t notice what a lousy cook I am.”

  “I make a mean toast if you’ve got some bread.”

  “Help yourself. Toaster is on the left.”

  The scene reminded Harry of the early days when he, Jake, and Jenna had worked together to expose the murderer of Olivia Elkins. Bittersweet memories.

  “Meeting you gives me a little better idea of why Jake kicked my ass when he came here. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I was sitting here in my own bed of self-pity, blaming Rafe for all my problems. You two were partners, huh?”

  “Yeah. Five years on the road together.”

  “Them scars he’s got, he get them on the job?” Reggie filled the plates and passed one to Harry. “If I’m getting too personal, you just tell me to shut my yap.”

  “The men who killed his wife cut him up. He killed all of them.”

  “Good for him. We can eat in here or catch the news in the living room. Whichever suits you best.”

  “Might be a good idea to watch the news.”

  No new disasters came to light on the local or state news, and two beers later, the two retired to the outside patio. “I keep thinking that I’ve missed something with Rafe. He wasn’t the type to go down without trying to let someone know who or why.”

  “Jake said he sent you off on an errand before the incident.”

  “Yeah, he called and told me he had a flat tire. Wanted me to meet him at the corner of Appaloosa and Cornish. I didn’t give it much thought at the time, but if Rafe was driving to the station after he dropped off the kids, he wouldn’t have gone that way.”

  Harry leaned forward in his chair, not sure if the buzz he was feeling was from excitement or the fact he was on his third beer. “What’s on the corner of Appaloosa and Cornish?”

  “Nothing but an empty lot now. It was before my time, so I don’t remember all the details, but there was a chop shop there about ten years ago.”

&nbs
p; “What happened to the chop shop?”

  “Police got a tip about the operation. Can’t remember exactly how it went down, but there was one hell of a shoot-out there. Three guys and two officers were killed.”

  Harry knew Reggie had caught the significance at the same time he did, because his eyes enlarged and his face paled. “The chop shop was run by three brothers.”

  “We need to find that case and see what officers worked it, and if there was another brother or relative who survived.”

  “Worried about Jake?”

  “And Jules and Grace and Harry.” Loki dipped up another bowl of stew for Dadron. “And that poor hunter if he really is tied up somewhere all alone. He has to know by now that no one is coming back.”

  “Maybe it’s time you stopped trying to be everybody’s mother and lived your own life. As to the hunter, I’ll pick up the trail again in the morning. If I’d gone on last night, it would have been dark long before I got back, and you probably would have shot me.”

  “That’s what the whistles are for.” Loki ignored the mother comment, but it hurt just a little. “You haven’t said what you want for your birthday.”

  “Anna Claire’s leaving for a job in Oklahoma in a few weeks.”

  Loki smiled softly. Another good thing that had come from their returning to Mississippi. It hadn’t taken long for Dadron and Dr. Mary Ann Coomer’s granddaughter, Anna Claire, to resume the relationship they’d enjoyed as children. She suspected it was more than just best friends this time. “Hard to believe she’s all grown up and ready to enter the working world. Seems like just yesterday you two were running through the trees and playing tag.”

  “We are grown up, Loki. There’s a forest ranger job open in the same city. I applied for it and got a call right before we left. The job is mine if I want it. That’s what I want for my birthday.”

  Loki swallowed hard, the stew that had seemed delicious only moments before now greasy and disgusting. “Have you talked to Jules about this?”