Once upon a time, that had been true. They’d been as close as brothers. But as they’d grown older, Chaz had gotten lost. And he’d been lost ever since. “Give it up, Chaz.”
He laughed, a harsh mean sound. “Give up? Like you are? Nice brown aboriginal girls aren’t good enough for you anymore?”
Shit. Carla must have told him about their breakup. And Chaz was wrong. He liked native women just fine. Hell, he’d dated almost every eligible Bear and Turtle clan female at one point or another. And more than a few that weren’t so eligible. Things just never worked out. Take Carla for example. She already had three kids, and he definitely wasn’t ready to be anyone’s dad. “Shut up, asshole. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You always were a fucking apple, more white than Indian. It just took a while for it to show through the red.”
Adrenaline pumped through Rémi’s veins. He shoved Alyssa behind him and lunged for his cousin’s throat. But Alyssa stepped around him and got in between them. She flattened her hands on his chest. “Take it easy, Rémi. You don’t want to do this.”
Rémi gaped at her, unable to believe she’d put herself between him and his cousin. Both of them had more than half a foot on her, as well as quite a few pounds.
Chaz laughed and shook his head. “Whipped by white pussy. Raksótha will be so disappointed.”
Over Alyssa’s head, Rémi glared at his cousin. Chaz’s smile faded as he glared back. Tension tightened Rémi’s muscles and he rolled onto the balls of his feet, ready to pounce. Chaz shifted his weight, mirroring Rémi’s actions, both preparing for a bataille royale.
Alyssa tugged on his shirt. But he wasn’t backing down. How could he ever hope to be a tribal cop if he couldn’t even stand up to his own cousin—even if that cousin was the leader of the Guardians?
Rémi curled his hands into fists. If Chaz wanted a fight, he’d get one. Chaz surprised him though. He looked away, then strode toward his Harley. As he passed them, he leaned in close to Alyssa, but his eyes were trained on Rémi as he spoke. “If you want a taste of real red cock instead of Rémi’s pale imitation, come see me. I’ll fuck your lily white ass until you scream.”
CHAPTER 3
Her best defense was a good offense. If someone had told her that the tribe hadn’t yet agreed to an SQ native squad, Alyssa wouldn’t have been ambushed. Wouldn’t have looked like a damn rookie. Taking a deep breath to counter the adrenaline pulsing through her system, she knocked on Lieutenant Gauthier’s office door.
Without waiting for a response, she turned the knob and walked in. “Sir, with all due respect, why did you set me up? I came across like a fool.”
Gauthier set aside the file he’d been reading and frowned. “I think you’d best sit down, calm down, and rephrase that question, Sergeant.”
Her jerky movements would have sent the door slamming shut, but at the last second, she caught the handle and closed it quietly. Stay strong. Ignoring his order to sit, she stood behind the guest chair and asked her question again. “Lieutenant, was it also your understanding that Captain Landry had already secured agreement from the Public Safety Committee to install an SQ native squad to police the reserve?”
Gauthier steepled his fingers under his chin and seemed to consider his response. “I was aware there were certain crucial points that required further discussion.”
How was that for a non-answer? Alyssa forced herself to keep her tone even. “Crucial points, sir? Would you care to clarify?”
He picked up his desk phone and dialed a number. “Captain, Sergeant Morgan is back from her meeting with the tribe. We’d like to discuss some details with you.” He paused. “Thank you, sir. We’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone. “Let’s go. He’s giving us five minutes.”
Alyssa followed Gauthier to Landry’s office. Gauthier sat in one of the leather guest chairs. Deciding that it was in her favor to play along, she took the other. Landry’s massive desk, a wooden number far more expensive than Gauthier’s utilitarian workstation or her cubicle, overburdened the office, making the large room feel claustrophobic. Or maybe that was just her sense of impending doom.
Thick brows met in a V between the captain’s pale blue eyes. The hard slash of his mouth made it clear the man was not happy. He checked his watch. “Talk. You have four minutes left.”
Gauthier crossed his legs. “Sir, Sergeant Morgan met with the chiefs and band council this morning. It seems there was some sort of misunderstanding.”
Landry tapped a gold-plated pen on the edge of the desk and scowled at Alyssa. “Did you screw this up? Because if you did, you’ll be out on your ass so fast your hair will curl.”
Alyssa rocketed to her feet. Bastard! “I did not screw this up. You jeopardized the entire assignment by misleading me.”
“Sergeant Morgan. Sit down,” barked Gauthier. Alyssa bit back a retort but dropped into her seat.
Landry set his pen down. “Explain.” His voice was as sharp as the knives at Benihana.
Gauthier’s head bobbed in an acquiescent manner that pissed her off even more. She pressed her feet into the floor. “Sir, it was clear from the discussion that they had not agreed to having an SQ native squad on the rez. My understanding was that this was a done deal.”
“You were not misled. I met with the committee last spring. As I told the lieutenant, besides a few points to be resolved, it was pretty much in the bag.”
“Well, it’s not in the bag anymore.”
“Meaning?” Landry’s voice held a warning.
“I had to agree to participate in a task force to investigate various solutions. We are to interview tribe members and suggest the best solution to the Public Safety Committee.”
Landry smiled then. “I don’t see the problem. You’ll do what they asked, and then present them with a proposal to have an SQ native squad.”
“The problem, sir, is that this isn’t a one-person task force.”
“Who else is on it?”
“Rémi Whitedeer, Councillor Redleafe, and Tommy Skye. We also need to consult with Chaz Whitedeer.”
“Skye and Chaz Whitedeer are going to be problematic,” added Gauthier.
And wasn’t that an understatement? Alyssa couldn’t forget the cold, dangerous glint in Chaz’s black eyes when he’d threatened her that morning. She’d felt naked without her weapon. “Don’t discount the chiefs, either. They even suggested letting the Guardians police the reserve.”
Landry waved her comments off with a flick of his hand. “So let them.”
Alyssa’s breath caught. Was the man on crack? “Sir, you don’t understand the situation.”
Landry leaned forward. “I understand perfectly well. Tensions at Blackwater are escalating. I will not be responsible for an armed conflict, for people dying. Will you? If the only way to avoid another Oka Crisis is to appease the Guardians, then so be it.”
“You’re giving them exactly what they want.”
“They want full control, and I’m not giving them that. Try to put an SQ native squad in place. If the Guardians block the negotiations, say we'll let them be on the force instead of our own native agents. As long as you’re the one running it. The force must stay under SQ control.”
“Sir, the Guardians are little more than thugs. No better than the Vipers. I’m not even sure the committee would agree to such a proposal.”
“If you can’t handle this situation, you’re not ready to lead a squad.” He glanced down at his day planner. “Settle this. You’ve got one month.”
Not possible. Alyssa shook her head. “If the task force decides against using SQ police officers, we’ll need to train the new hires. The SQ program takes three months.”
Landry snapped the day planner closed and stood up. “Four months, then. In four months, I want a squad up and running.”
One month to interview the residents of the reserve, convince Rémi and Councillor Redleafe, negotiate with Tommy and Chaz, then get all the chiefs and band
councillors to agree. Not to mention selecting and hiring officers…. It couldn’t be done. “But sir—”
His lips curled back in an ugly smile, Landry pointed a finger at Alyssa. “Listen, Sergeant. Whatever happens, in four months, this force needs to be operational, and you need to be in charge of it. This is your last chance. You blow this, I’ll send you some place so quiet, so far north, your idea of entertainment will be a penguin fart.”
His eyes slid over to Gauthier, pinning him with a glare. “You swore she was stable enough to handle this job.”
Gauthier’s throat worked as he swallowed. “She is, sir.”
“She better be.”
Nodding, Gauthier stood up. Without a word, Alyssa followed him back to his office. This time, she sat in the guest chair across from him. As he watched her, his stony expression spoke volumes. Yeah, she’d gotten the memo. Both their asses were on the line. “The captain obviously doesn’t think much of me.”
Gauthier leaned back in his chair. “He thinks you’re a loose cannon. And given your performance on your previous case, he has every right to believe that.”
“My performance? I completed that assignment successfully.” Why had she been given this post if Gauthier and Landry didn’t think she was capable?
“You got your target, but at what cost? Even you have to admit there were some irregularities with your handling of the case. And what about the missing evidence?”
“I had nothing to do with that.” Not exactly. While she hadn’t turned over all the evidence to her superiors, she had kept detailed records of everything she’d learned while she was undercover with the Vipers. Someone else had made those records disappear from her locked file cabinet. But Gauthier didn’t know that, and he never would. It was her problem to handle.
Gauthier got up and fixed himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the cabinets to the left of his desk. He motioned the cup toward her. She shook her head. Gauthier’s coffee looked like used motor oil and tasted worse. Sipping the steaming liquid, he returned to his seat. “You’re a good cop, Morgan. I know that. But you operate like this is the Wild West and you’re the lone sheriff. I can’t do that. I have a wife and three kids to support.”
Heat burned a path up her neck and set her ears on fire. Maybe she had screwed up before, but she certainly wasn’t responsible for today’s clusterfuck. She gripped the armrest. “Why am I in trouble here? I was sent into that meeting with false information. If I didn’t know any better”—she arched a brow—“I’d have to think I was purposely set up to fail.”
“I’ll concede that some information may not have been conveyed accurately. But no one wants success here more than Landry. If this situation gets out of hand, he’ll be the one blamed by the director-general and crucified by the media.”
“You hired me to run a squad, not to negotiate the SQ out of a political quagmire.”
He ran his finger along the edge of his cup, circling it a few times as though trying to make the cheap ceramic whistle like fine crystal. Finally he spoke. “See your way through this, run the squad well, and you’ll rise through the ranks.”
Alyssa couldn’t stifle a snort. “Yeah, and bang my head against the glass ceiling.”
“Untrue. More and more women are attaining the rank of director, even more are station commanders. But they didn’t get there by going rogue.”
Rogue, my ass. Had they expected her to blow her cover? She’d been in so deep, any contact with the SQ would have put her life at risk and jeopardized everything she’d worked so hard for. “I did what I had to do to get the job done, without getting killed.” Her gut cramped at exactly what the Vipers had forced her to do.
“The SQ as an organization only works when people follow the rules. I’ll support you, but only so far. Either redeem yourself with this assignment or end up freezing your ass off in Nunavik.”
Yeah, he had her back, all right. She sighed. “I don’t expect anyone from the task force to call me for another day or two. What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a set of keys. Their jingling as he dangled them from his fingers set her nerves on edge. How could he do this to her? Hadn’t she earned any respect?
Meeting her gaze, he tossed her the set. “Patrol. Second shift.”
Her fist closed, trapping the keys inside. Six years on the force, six months undercover. And what had that gotten her? Fuck all.
What had he done to deserve this? Tired and hungry, Rémi stood in the middle of Costco’s electronics section with Tommy and their grandfather, contemplating the television offerings. He’d spent more time shopping today than he had in his whole life. After hours of negotiation, they’d finally agreed on a new laptop and DVD player. But the battle over the television was just beginning.
Rémi checked his watch. Only one hour to closing time. He had to get this train moving or be forced to experience a replay tomorrow. “Okay, Rakso. Which TV do you want?”
Grandfather looked around, eyes wide. “Are you sure these signs are in English? Plasma? LCD? LED? 1080p? All I want is something simple so I can watch the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network. Don’t they have a section for that?”
Rémi struggled not to laugh. “A section for simple things? No, I don’t believe they do.”
“Rakso, you should get the 60-inch 1080p HDTV,” Tommy said, grinning. “The whole family can gather around it and watch Blackstone.”
Grandfather pondered the choices for a moment. “Which one is that?” Tommy pointed to the huge television at the end of the aisle. Raksótha frowned. “That thing is as big as a moose! There won’t be space for anyone else in the living room.”
Rémi burst out laughing at the blush darkening his cousin’s face. Raksótha had a knack for making them feel nine again. “What about this one? It’s only a little bigger than the TV you had before.”
Grandfather examined the set for a minute, then peered at the price tag and made a sound of disgust. “I can’t afford this. Besides, what does an old man need with these things? Let’s put everything back and go home.” He took the cart’s handles and began pushing it.
Rémi stepped in front to stop him. The thieves were not going to take away his grandfather’s window into the world. “Rakso, without your Internet and television, what will you do? How will you keep up with political developments concerning First Nations people?”
Grandfather shrugged. “If I want to watch television I can go to Maggie’s house. And I can use the computers at the cultural center.”
“Rakso, you know Mom’s happy to have you over anytime,” Tommy said. “But since Dad’s working the nightshift, you’ll have to record all your favorite shows and watch them when he’s not sleeping.” Grandfather made an irritated noise in his throat.
Rémi pressed home the advantage. “And the cultural center is on summer hours and doesn’t open until one in the afternoon.” Grandfather’s morning ritual consisted of reading the news on the Internet while drinking his coffee. And ritual meant everything to the man. When Grandfather crossed his arms and pursed his lips, Rémi knew he’d won. “Let me buy these for you.”
“No.”
Rémi took a calming breath and geared up for more verbal sparring. “Why not?”
“Because you will buy them for yourself.” Raksótha’s lips curved into a half smile. “And leave them at my house since you’re almost always there anyways.” Tommy snickered and elbowed Rémi in the ribs. “But,” Grandfather continued, “it’s not right for you to waste your inheritance from your father’s father. One thousand dollars for a television is too much.”
“Point taken.” Now it was Rémi’s turn to feel nine again. When they’d learned of Rémi’s existence, Grandda and Nana McInerney had purchased a ranch a few miles from Blackriver so they could be near him as he grew up. They’d left him the ranch and more money than he was comfortable having. He wanted to spend some of it on his grandfather, buy him the best of eve
rything. But the man didn’t want the best. He only wanted what he needed, nothing more.
After more discussion and comparisons, they finally settled on a reasonably priced set. Rémi paid for the items, and the three of them sat down in the food court to have a snack. Grandfather took a bite of his hot dog and smiled as he chewed. “There’s something I need to tell you boys. This afternoon, the Public Safety Committee met with a representative of the SQ. We’ve agreed to form a task force to develop solutions for bringing back law enforcement to the reserve.”
Rémi smiled. “Rakso, that’s great news!”
“If it gets the SQ off our lands permanently, I’m happy,” Tommy said around a mouthful of pizza.
Picking up his fork, Rémi poked the flimsy plastic tines into a piece of limp lettuce. Why on earth had he ordered a salad? This conversation called for a healthy dose of grease and calories. “I want the SQ gone as much as the next guy, but not until we have something better in place.”
“The Defenders are the enforcers of the Great Law. We could manage the rez.”
Rémi didn’t like to needle his cousin, but he couldn’t let this slide. “Oh, right. Like you guys managed the Guardians?”
Tommy squeezed his drink cup hard enough to pop the lid open. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard rumors the Guardians want to take over policing. Believe me, it’d be much better to have the Defenders in charge.”
“You can’t be serious,” Rémi said. “That’s all we need, a bunch of thugs running around with guns and badges. It’d be like the wild west here.”
“Have there been more defections from the Defenders?” Grandfather asked.
Tommy shook his head. “No, but there’s been a lot of grumbling. People aren’t happy with the way things are. The Defenders want to take action.”
Grandfather frowned. “Against the band council?”
“No. Against the Guardians.”
“Maybe the Defenders aren’t as militant as the Guardians, but face it, you aren’t far behind,” Rémi said.
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