Their gaze met, and the woman’s look had the force of a blow, as if she’d just crossed the distance between them and physically pushed him. There was something about the face that seemed familiar, but Ashlyn couldn’t place it.
Sullivan walked over to them. “You could try talking to them,” he said to Tain.
“You think we Injuns all speak the same language, that because of the color of my skin they’ll listen to me?” Tain replied.
The woman who’d been watching started walking toward them as other vehicles approached. Ashlyn glanced at the vans, then at Nolan, whose eyes widened. More trouble they didn’t need.
“We won’t leave until we get answers,” she said. Her comment was directed at Tain, not Sullivan.
“Then you’ll be here for a long time, because we don’t have anything to tell you,” Tain said.
“Fine. We’ll stay.”
“Look.” Sullivan glared at Tain as he reached for the woman’s arm. “Can’t we go somewhere more comfortable and talk? I’m sure that we can come to a reasonable—”
“Talk?” The woman practically spat the word into Sullivan’s face. “For years, we’ve talked. Whole generations of our people have lived in poverty, driven from their lands, their children taken from them so that they could be raised by your people, and always your answer is the same. Talk. This isn’t about land, and it isn’t about what your ancestors stole from mine. This is about finding these missing girls. It’s about finding my sister. I don’t want talk. I want action.”
It clicked into place, and Ashlyn realized why the woman looked familiar. Summer Young. Her sister had been the first to disappear.
“I assure you, we’ve brought in more manpower, and we’re working around the clock,” Sullivan said. He kept looking to Summer’s right, where the reporters were taking positions, cameras already rolling. Sullivan had a wild look in his eye, that of a desperate man who might do anything to stop the situation from spiraling any further out of control. Through the cameras, the eyes of the world could now focus on Nighthawk Crossing, a small community close to several reserves where First Nations peoples resided and a stone’s throw from the US border. The Native communities felt more kinship with the tribes in Washington State than they did with Canadians, and the difficulty of monitoring a border that stretched thousands of miles was a tangible reality the police grappled with on a daily basis. Drug trafficking, human smuggling…no one wanted to know what was being smuggled across the border on any given day.
Much of it coming through Native lands.
Summer looked at Tain. “You’ve found a body.”
It wasn’t a question. Nolan had been right—it hadn’t taken the public long to find out.
Tain’s face betrayed nothing. “This isn’t the way, Summer. You have to leave.”
“Or what? You’ll arrest me?” She stepped toward him, her head held high, barely an inch between them.
“If that’s what it takes,” Tain said.
Nolan used the gap that had opened when Tain reached back for his cuffs to worm his way between him. “You’re right. We found a body.”
For a moment there was an uneasy silence as Summer looked from Tain to Nolan. “You’ll give me answers?”
“What I can,” he said.
“I’ve heard that before.” Summer glanced at Tain. Ashlyn noticed his fist was clenched at his side, the other hand still on his cuffs.
“You’ve got no reason to trust me,” Nolan said. “The only thing you can be sure of is that I haven’t lied to you before.”
She paused. “Not exactly reassuring.”
“Would you be more likely to believe me if I fed you a line? Made you some promise that things would get better, that your people will be afforded the same justice every citizen of this country deserves? Maybe I should tell you they brought the best and brightest to work the cases, instead of covering every politically correct base they could think of—bringing in community cops who’d want to keep the local people happy, a woman, and someone who has the same skin color as you.”
“You aren’t much of a diplomat, are you?” Said without the sarcasm one might have expected. Summer relaxed, shrinking down a few noticeable millimeters.
Nolan smiled, stepped back and extended an arm toward the RCMP station. “Let’s find you some answers.”
Summer glanced at the reporters, then nodded and allowed Nolan to lead her across the street.
Ashlyn walked to her desk and plopped down in the chair. It felt good to sit after all the hours on her feet. She reached up and rubbed her temples and started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Tain barked. She stifled a groan. When she’d returned to the office, she hadn’t realized he’d walked in behind her.
“I smell about as good as you did this morning,” she said.
It had taken the better part of an hour to get the crowd to leave. Sullivan had calmed down after Nolan left with Summer. She was the first domino. After that, the sergeant was able to persuade the leaders that they were doing everything in their power, and wouldn’t their time be better spent investigating the murder of the girl they believed was Mary Donard instead of handling crowd control outside the RCMP station?
The fire department had paced anxiously throughout the negotiations, eager to put out the fire, not willing to take any chances of it spreading to nearby buildings after the blaze they’d had to contend with the night before.
Reasonable men had eventually conceded, although they’d also promised they would not remain reasonable for long. They wanted answers, and they weren’t prepared to wait another year to get them.
“You should go home and get some sleep, Hart, while you still can.”
He had his back to her and was standing still. It looked like he was staring at the blank wall in front of him.
She wondered if he realized how creepy it was that he’d just stop and stare off at nothing for minutes at a time.
“I don’t even know where home is.”
Tain remained in his fixed position. Whatever was on his mind, it seemed to have prevented him from processing her words. Part of her wanted to remain in her chair, which seemed much more comfortable than it had that morning, but if she did, she’d lack the willpower to track Sullivan down and find out where she was supposed to be staying.
As she forced herself out of her chair, Tain turned and held up a hand.
“Wait.”
It was all he said before disappearing out the door and down the hallway.
Ashlyn started to sink back down, then stopped herself. It would be even harder to get up the second time. Instead, she interlocked her fingers and reached up to the ceiling, then to her left and finally to her right.
Too many days like this and she might be tempted to start drinking coffee.
She glanced at her watch. He’d been gone several minutes, and it was getting late. The other shift had arrived, but they weren’t in the office. Ashlyn started walking back and forth, swinging her arms in an effort to keep the circulation flowing. She glanced at her watch again.
Ten minutes.
When Tain returned a few moments later, he stopped beside his desk and stared straight at her. “In a day or two there’s a cabin available at Similkameen Valley. That’s where they’ve got Nolan staying. I’m in one of the rental houses on the same property. Until then, Sullivan had a room for you at the Blind Creek Inn.”
She groaned. Obviously she wouldn’t be staying there. “I can try the motel I—”
Tain shook his head. “It’s full. Every motel in town or on the outskirts has been filled with people who were staying at the inn.” He grabbed something off his desk and was halfway out the door before he turned back toward her. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“I have a spare room.”
She gaped at him for a moment. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Look, suit yourself. I’m not begging. If you want to curl up with a bit of floor in the storage room and
a blanket or sleep in a holding cell, that’s up to you.”
“Well, since you put it that way,” she muttered. “You aren’t at the same cabins?”
Tain shook his head. “One lane over. I had to get something with a fenced yard. I have a dog.”
He turned down the hall toward the front door, and she followed him. He marched with purpose and didn’t even look back to see if she was keeping pace.
It wasn’t until they passed a small room with windows that allowed a clear view of the occupants that he even broke stride. He paused and turned long enough for her to see the twist of his jaw, the way his hand balled up into a fist.
She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong but stopped when she saw Nolan and Summer sitting in the room.
Summer tucked her hair behind her ears. Her lips were mashed together, and she pulled her coat around her body and held it tightly with her arms.
Trying to hold herself together.
The first tear fell. Her lower lip quivered, and her head dropped forward. Trying to be brave. Strong.
To hide the pain.
Nolan had his arm around her and after a halfhearted resistance, Summer rested her head on his shoulder as she cried.
Tain’s hesitation had allowed her to close the distance between them, and for a moment he was so focused on what was happening with Nolan and Summer that he didn’t notice she’d caught up to him. But as soon as he realized she was there, he turned away and marched down the hall, silent as he continued through to the front of the station and out the door. He didn’t pause to hold the door for Ashlyn or check to see if she was still right behind him.
It wasn’t until they were almost at his truck that she realized her things were in her car. “I need my bag,” she said. “Or do you want me to follow you?”
Tain shook his head. “Just get your stuff.” He climbed inside the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
Ashlyn walked to the back of the station, where she’d moved her car to, and quickly removed a small suitcase from the back, along with her overnight bag. As she closed the trunk, she realized she could hear voices coming from the alley behind the station, by the Dumpster.
She moved toward the sound, straining to hear what they were saying.
“If I get caught…” The voice was trying to be quiet, but had a higher pitch to it that resonated with fear.
The voice that responded was lower and softer. Ashlyn took another step forward, which enabled her to see around the side of the Dumpster, but the hum of an engine behind her and the sudden flash of brightness caused her to turn around. From the corner of her eye, she could see movement in the alley, shadows being absorbed by the darkness as they withdrew from the light.
She walked to the truck and got in.
“What were you doing?” Tain asked.
Ashlyn looked back down the alley as he backed his truck into a stall and then turned to drive around to the road. “There were two men back there.”
Tain looked at her, his scowl softening to a frown as he hesitated. “Hardly illegal.”
She turned and looked out the window. He was right, and whatever she’d thought she’d heard, Tain wasn’t the first person she’d choose to confide in.
For now, she was keeping what she’d heard to herself.
The next morning, Ashlyn followed Tain into the office. Nolan was already there, and when he turned to look at them, Tain’s gaze locked with his and Nolan’s face clouded.
All the muscles in Tain’s arms and back were tensed, evidenced by his rigidity and the way he got taller as he glared back at Nolan, but he hesitated only a few seconds before marching over to his desk.
Nolan turned his glare toward Ashlyn.
She tried to ignore him and walked to her desk as she pulled off her jacket.
“Any word from the coroner?” she asked as she looked at the mounting pile of messages in front of her.
“I’m on my way over there.”
Ashlyn looked up as Nolan slipped into his coat. He nodded at her. “Keep working on chasing down leads.”
He turned and was out the door before she could think of an appropriate response.
Tain waited a moment, then marched out of the office. Ashlyn heard the back door slam shut and sat down in her chair.
The youngest member of the other shift stalked into the room, stopping short when he saw Ashlyn.
“Morning,” she said.
He muttered a response under his breath and walked past her. She heard him rummaging through his desk, and then a door slammed shut. Ashlyn held her breath as she listened to what sounded like the faint sound of metal scraping against metal, and then Campbell marched out of the office without so much as another word.
Sullivan stormed into the office a moment later. “Where is everyone?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Get your coat, Hart.”
She was on her feet with her arms already worming their way into the sleeves. “What is it, sir?”
“They’ve found a body in the rubble from the fire yesterday.”
“At the inn?”
“Actually, the old house the inn connected to, across the street. It used to house hotel staff, but a couple boys from the shipping company were living there.”
“Why?”
“Why? Blind Creek Inn was owned by the same people who run Blind Creek Shipping.”
“And the house burned as well as the inn?”
“It’s too soon to say for sure, but they think the fire may have started there.” Sullivan held up his hand. “You keep that to yourself for now, though. We need to go check out this body.”
Ashlyn reached for her notebook. “One of ours?”
He hesitated, then turned and started speed walking down the hall. “Too soon to say.”
Something in his tone suggested that wasn’t what he was thinking, but she didn’t push it. Ashlyn followed him to the car and spent the few minutes driving over in silence. She’d seen so little of the town, this was an opportunity for her to start piecing it together.
It was her first real awareness of how large the First Nations population was. The bonfire didn’t really count because it was a staged gathering. It was where the day-to-day routines of normal people collided that you got a sense of the local population. She’d grown up in a town where it wasn’t uncommon to venture down the main street day after day after day, to go to school your whole life and live and work for more than twenty years and rarely see someone from the Reserves.
She thought about her question regarding the tribal police. In other parts of the country, the RCMP were working with tribal police to try to address the growing crime that accompanied the gambling trade that thrived on tribal lands.
Why couldn’t they work together here?
About half a block before the charred remains of the hotel there was a small green space with a fountain and a few park benches. A woman was bending down by the fountain, placing flowers on the sidewalk. She stood and tucked her hair back behind her ears, then stilled for a moment. When she turned, Ashlyn recognized her.
Summer Young.
“It’s the latest development,” Sullivan said. “They’re having some candlelight vigil or prayer service or something there later. To remember the girls the rest of us have forgotten.”
When Sullivan parked the car, she got out and followed him in silence. The coroner was already there, waiting outside a small makeshift tent.
“I may as well set up a field office here,” he muttered as he led them inside. As soon as Ashlyn stepped into the small space, she felt the bile push up into her throat. The charred remains of a woman were lying on a plastic sheet on the ground. The victim was curled up in the fetal position, arms hugging her knees. What looked like the remnants of a gag were in her mouth.
“Let’s hope you won’t be needed here much longer,” Sullivan said. “What can you tell us?”
“There are a few identifiers I can work with. A tattoo still visible on her right ankle, and if there are dental r
ecords we should be able to ID her.”
“Just one body?” Ashlyn asked.
The coroner looked at her. “Yes. I’ll know for sure once I get her on the table, but it looks like she died in the fire. There is head trauma, so it’s possible she died before the fire started.”
Sullivan looked at Ashlyn. “What do you think, Hart?”
“Sir?”
“We can cut this case loose and let someone else work it, or we can keep the folder as part of the investigation until we’ve identified her.”
She could see the arguments both ways. If they passed the case off now and found out later there was a connection, they’d have to be brought up to speed. And if they took it on and it didn’t connect, whoever was left with the investigation would be behind.
As she opened her mouth to answer, the flap of the tent was pulled back and Tain stepped inside. He surveyed the body wordlessly before kneeling beside her and looking closely at her shoes and pant legs.
“This is ours,” he said as he stood. “I’m taking it.”
“I think Constable Hart should—”
“I want this case, Sergeant.”
“And I want you at the rally this afternoon.”
“I’m not your token Aboriginal officer.”
Tain had spoken with so much force everyone in the tent and anyone standing within a few feet of it outside fell silent.
Sullivan sighed. “Look, I know that shipping company owns this hotel, and I know you still want to find a way to get to them. And we will, when the time’s right. But we’re stretched pretty thin right now, and we need to stay focused. If this is going to be a problem—”
“It isn’t. Look, you brought Hart out here yourself. You were already thinking about giving this one to the task force, just in case. Don’t change your mind just because I want it.”
Sullivan paused. He glanced at Ashlyn. Tain’s eyes almost begged for her cooperation, while a muddled uncertainty lingered on Sullivan’s face. Ashlyn took a breath, then gave one quick nod of her head.
“This is a team effort, Tain. You’re working it, but so is everybody else. It isn’t all yours, and I expect you to let Hart, Nolan, or whoever else is available back you up.”
Lullaby for the Nameless (Nolan, Hart & Tain Thrillers) Page 42