“Okay, then. I’ll let you know if forensics turns up any other evidence.”
Instead of heading back to her desk, Alyssa took the stairs down to the basement and located the security office. “Good morning, Constable Haines. You still got the parking lot security tapes from the evening of July 6 four years ago?”
Haines peered at her through thick glasses as though she’d committed a capital crime. He shoved a clipboard across the high counter. “Fill this out. Use machine four.”
Alyssa made quick work of the form and sat down at the computer Haines had indicated. He’d already brought up the footage she’d requested beginning at 6 PM according to the time stamp. She pressed the fast forward button and watched white SQ squad cars with their side markings enter and exit the parking lot at lightning speed. When a small civilian car followed by a dark cruiser entered the SQ lot, she clicked the pause button and zoomed in on the cruiser. Seeing the logo of Blackriver’s former tribal police department on the side made her pulse quicken.
Eyes glued to the screen, she hit play and watched as the tribal police car pulled in front of the civilian car, penning it in. The male driver and pregnant female passenger, both native, jumped out and started running for the entrance to the station. The tribal officers followed, tackling the man and restraining the female. The man was handcuffed, lifted to his feet, and shoved against the hood of his car.
The cop bent over as if to speak to the man. But instead, he pulled back and punched the driver in the face. Bile rose in her throat. When the man fell to the ground, the cop kicked him several times in the stomach and chest. Police brutality, abuse of power. She knew these things happened, but she’d never understood why. How could an officer of the law do such a thing?
The female struggled against the arms that held her, screaming and crying, and looking to her left. With jerky movements, Alyssa paused the footage and located the controls allowing her to pan the shot. And there they were, just as Tommy had said. Two uniformed SQ officers stood in front of their vehicle. Both men wore strained expressions as they watched the events unfold. But neither intervened.
One of the officers, his face twisting into a grimace, took a step forward, but the other—the more senior of the two—flung an arm in front of him, holding him back. Shoving his partner’s arm out of the way, the younger man got in his face. They argued while an assault took place a few feet away.
Service, integrity, and justice. Those were the core values of the SQ. Core values that were not being upheld by her colleagues.
Why weren’t they helping the native couple? Was Tommy right? Had there been—was there still—a systemic turning of the shoulder within the SQ concerning matters of native-on-native violence?
An old pickup raced into the parking lot. The door flew open and the driver leaped out. He shouted as he caught the native cop from behind and dragged him away from the wounded man. Within moments, the newcomer had the cop on the ground and secured in a classic police maneuver. When he looked up to yell at the SQ officers, she saw his face. It was Tommy. Everything had happened exactly as he’d said.
The tribal cops eventually climbed back into their cruiser and drove out of the parking lot. With jerky movements, she shut down the video viewer and stormed straight to Gauthier’s office. She threw his door open and marched in without so much as a knock.
Gauthier, who had the phone to his ear, held up a finger. Anger seethed in her chest, roiled in her belly. To keep from screaming, she clenched her teeth and gripped the back of the guest chair. After a glance at her watch, her eyes flew to the phone. Twenty seconds. That’s all he’d get before she ripped it out of his hand.
Tracking her every gesture, Gauthier rose from his chair, quickly wrapped up the call, and hung up the phone. “What—”
She cut him off. “July 6, four years ago, a native man was assaulted here, in our parking lot by a tribal cop. Did you know about it?”
Gauthier let out a sigh as he dropped back into his seat. “Who told you?”
“What does it matter who told me?” She threw her hands in the air. “It’s all on tape. I just watched the entire incident in our security office.”
“It was rather unfortunate.”
Unfortunate? That’s what he called an incident that shook the very foundation of her oath to the SQ? “Two officers stood by and never lifted a finger to help. How can you expect the native community to ever trust us again?”
“Issues involving First Nations are sensitive. There are jurisdictional and political—”
“Bullshit! No wonder they hate us so much.” Alyssa let go of the chair and crossed her arms. “If I were them, I’d never trust the SQ again.”
Gauthier’s gaze shot to the doorway and stayed there.
Crap. It had to be Landry. With her luck, he’d have her flying out to Nunavik before her shift was even over. She tightened her jaw and turned to face him.
“Sergeant Morgan, let me remind you. Your job isn’t to understand, it’s to obey.”
Arrogant sonofabitch! Her last standoff with the captain hadn’t gone well. Clamping her teeth shut, she smothered the words that struggled to escape.
Landry smirked. “In my office. Now.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gauthier bury his head in a file on his desk. Coward.
When they reached his office, Landry sat at his desk and indicated one of the guest chairs. She sat, her back stiff. Was this the end of her career with the SQ? If so, she wasn’t leaving without a fight. “Captain, did you know about the incident that took place four years ago in our parking lot between a native man and a tribal cop?”
“Despite their own personal inclinations, our officers followed protocol.”
“I’m sorry, I must have been absent from classes the day they taught us to ignore crimes at the police academy. Are you saying it’s protocol to watch someone in a position of authority abuse that authority?”
“It was a native matter.”
Alyssa ran her tongue over her teeth. She was beginning to get the picture. “I see. So if either of the parties had been white, the SQ would have interceded.”
“That’s correct.”
“It’s okay to let natives beat the shit out of each other.”
“The tribal police had jurisdiction.”
Alyssa sprang from her seat and leaned over Landry’s desk. “That’s crap, and you know it. Tribal cops have no jurisdiction outside the rez. That poor native man came here, came to us for help, and we ignored him. That’s negligence at best. We’re as guilty as the cop who beat him up.”
“Sit down, Sergeant Morgan.” He paused, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Since you seem to like recordings, I’ve got one here you might be interested in.”
What the hell was he talking about? “I think we’ve said all there is to say on this matter.”
He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and extracted a USB drive.
“What’s that?” she asked, unease stiffening her shoulders.
“This drive was in the evidence boxes from the Vipers case. It contains a very interesting video. One starring you and a prominent gang member.”
The blood left Alyssa’s head faster than she could process Landry’s words. When white filled her vision, she lowered herself onto the chair. Had he gotten video of her proof of loyalty? How? She’d combed through all the evidence on the case herself, and there’d been no video of any sort.
“I know what you did, how far you went.” He arched a brow.
“I was trying to save my life!”
Landry smiled, a cold, predatory curving of the lips. “Really? That’s not what it looked like to me.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Where it came from doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you know I have it.”
“What do you want?” Her fingernails dug into the wooden armrests. Was she actually being blackmailed by her commanding officer?
“No one else has to ever know about t
his video. Just do what you’re told. You were given a simple assignment. Focus on that, Morgan. Quit making nice with the natives and quit fucking around—in every sense of the word. Step out of line again, and I’ll have this video up on YouTube before you can blink.”
Jesus Christ. Being sent to Nunavik would be the least of her problems. If she didn’t want to end up the star of a porn video gone viral, she’d have to forget about tracking down the drugs. Forget about being friends with the people of Blackriver. And above all, forget about being with Rémi Whitedeer.
She stood up and marched out of Landry’s office. The man didn’t want her to be a cop; he wanted her to be a mindless puppet whose strings he could pull. She’d rather have her nails torn off with pliers.
CHAPTER 14
Not liking the scowl on his cousin’s face, Rémi climbed out of his Fusion in the parking lot of the Three Sisters diner. A few feet away from the car, Tommy stopped. “You just had to fuck her, eh?”
Not quite the greeting he’d been expecting, but whatever. Rémi slammed the door shut and started toward the restaurant. “That’s none of your business.”
Tommy gripped his shoulder and spun him around. The serious expression on his cousin’s face stopped the angry words burning Rémi’s tongue. But it didn’t stop him from glaring at the hand still holding him in place. Tommy dropped his arm, and the scowl. “I know it’s your life. And you can make your own decisions. But shit, Rémi. You’re like a brother to me. Alyssa’s a nice enough woman, but she isn’t worth throwing your life away for.”
Rémi rested his hands on his hips and let out a long exhale. Anger still churned in his gut, but he understood where Tommy was coming from. Wouldn’t he be saying the same thing to him if their positions were reversed? “I need to get her out of my system.”
“Have you told her the consequences if things turn serious?”
He shot his cousin a stiff smile and raised his hands, palms up. “No need. Believe me, I know exactly what’s expected of me. It’s casual. No different from the others.” Yeah, right.
Tommy snorted. “It’s all fun and games until you wake up one morning with a ring on your finger, and your entire life in shambles.”
“I appreciate your concern, cuz. But that’s not going to happen.” Hadn’t he kept his distance last night? The sex had been great for both of them, but it hadn’t been all that intimate. And Alyssa herself had insisted on a little space this morning. He should be happy she didn’t want anyone to know they were sleeping together.
Tommy clapped his back, startling him. “Just be careful. Come on. We’re already late.”
They entered the crowded diner together. Alyssa and Martha Redleafe were already seated at a table in the back, deep in conversation, their heads close together. When he was still a few tables away, Alyssa’s head jerked up, and her gaze shot to his as if by magnetic attraction. A slow smile appeared on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Something had upset her.
Rémi quickly closed the few meters separating them and was about to lean down to kiss her when she shook her head in a subtle motion. His heart hammered in his chest as he dropped into the seat across from her. Shit. Good thing one of them was thinking. If he kissed her here, the Moccasin Telegraph would activate and in less than an hour the whole community would know.
Focusing first on Martha, then Alyssa—he didn’t even want to see Tommy’s reaction to his blunder—he greeted the women. “Kwe kwe, Martha, Alyssa. Is everything okay? You both seem a little… intense.”
Alyssa exchanged a glance with Martha while, under the table, she ran her bare foot along his calf. He sucked in a breath and covered it up with a short cough. She smiled. Minx. “We were enjoying a bit of girl-talk while we waited.”
Before he could respond, Ellie stopped beside him, her expression tight. Where was the bright bubbly girl he was used to seeing? Her back stiff, she passed out the menus and deposited glasses of water on the table. When she plopped the fourth one in front of her mother, water sloshed over the rim. Martha’s head came up sharply, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she calmly blotted the water while Ellie babbled excuses. Finally, Martha grimaced and interrupted her. “Ellie, please, just take everyone’s orders. We have work to do here.”
A deep flush colored the girl’s cheeks. What was going on between mother and daughter? Was Corey somehow involved? He smiled brightly at the girl. “How are you? Enjoying your summer so far?”
After throwing a dark look her mother’s way, she shrugged. “I’m getting a lot of hours. By the time school starts, I’ll probably have enough money to buy an old second-hand car.”
Martha choked on the water she’d been drinking. Tommy grinned. “Girl’s got ambition, that’s for sure.”
“We did not agree to that. You’re barely sixteen,” Martha said, between fits of coughing.
Ellie pursed her lips and jutted a hip to one side. “You just want to control where I go and who I see. If I have a car, I’ll be free of your prison.”
Martha’s eyes widened and her face reddened. Tommy and Alyssa lowered their heads and studiously examined the menu. Rémi had to do something to defuse the situation. He was a counselor, for fuck’s sake. “Ellie, it’s normal for your mom to want to know what you’re up to. She cares about you.” Martha offered her daughter a small smile.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Ellie continued to glare at her mother. “Well, maybe I wish she didn’t care so much.” She bent down and whispered in Rémi’s ear. “She’s smothering me!”
He whispered back. “Come see me tomorrow at the community center. We’ll talk.”
Ellie nodded, then with a plastic smile on her face, she took a pencil and pad from her apron. “So, have you all decided on your orders?” After getting everyone’s requests, she left.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Martha said.
Alyssa touched her hand. “Teenagers can be a handful.”
“To say the least.” Her eyes filled, and she blinked the tears away. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do with her anymore. When she isn’t arguing or crying, she’s sullen.”
It wasn’t the Iroquois way to show emotion. Things had to be very bad for Martha to talk so openly. Should he warn her about Corey’s worsening problems? Could he, without violating the kid’s right to confidentiality? Martha would probably forbid Ellie to see Corey if she knew. And rightly so. Shit. His hands were tied. But maybe he could help some other way. “I’ll talk to her, try to find out what’s wrong.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Niá:wen. I’d appreciate that. But enough about me and my troubles. Let’s get back to business. It is the reason we’re meeting, after all.” After withdrawing her hand, she settled back in her seat with a strained smile.
Tommy cleared his throat. “I’ve talked to the Defenders. We agree to a tribal force, but it must be locally staffed.” He gaze settled on Alyssa. “And locally run.”
“Specify ‘local,’” she said.
“Native management and officers from the tribe. No outsiders.”
“And where are you going to get all these candidates?” Alyssa asked, arching a brow. “Are there really enough qualified officers within the tribe to staff an entire police force?”
Folding his arms across his chest, Tommy lifted his chin. “We’ll start small. Rémi already has the Certificate in Police Management from the Québec National Police School, so his being chief shouldn’t be an issue. A few tribal cops from before were community members and cleared of any wrong doing. They could start right away. Training for new hires is thirteen to twenty-six weeks, depending where they go. So within six months, we could have a fully staffed and trained force.”
“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out,” Alyssa said. Her expression remained neutral, but she sounded defensive. And who could blame her?
Tommy turned to Rémi. “Did you meet with the chiefs and clan mothers?”
Rémi chuckled, recalling all t
he hoops he’d had to jump through to meet with all nine traditional chiefs and nine clan mothers. “The clans are split over this, with a slim majority favoring a tribal force. But it will need to go to the Longhouse for a final resolution.”
“And what do the others want?” Alyssa asked, her voice a little too eager.
He swallowed, hesitating. No one sitting here was going to like what he had to say. “More than a few are against any type of law enforcement modeled on the white police service.”
Martha frowned. “What are you saying, Rémi?”
Tommy picked up his fork and tapped it against the Formica tabletop. “They want a return to traditional Iroquois law. Right, Rémi?” His voice deepened, darkened. “They want to put the Guardians in charge of enforcing the law.”
Alyssa gawked. “You can’t be serious. A couple of the chiefs brought that up during the meeting with the Public Safety committee, but I thought they were trying to see how far they could push.”
Rémi shook his head. “They’re very serious. And while they’re loud and passionate about it, the others see that it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. Besides, the Guardians are nothing like the old Iroquois enforcers of the Great Law.”
“I spoke to Chaz about this yesterday,” Tommy said, his teeth clenched.
Rémi smirked. Grandfather had told him the meeting had not gone well. “The way I heard it, your fists did most of the talking.”
“Asshole’s ego is as big as his gas-guzzling truck. I don’t know why Raksótha keeps defending him.”
“Chaz is very good at hiding things. But Raksótha and some of the other chiefs are starting to see what’s going on. The Guardians’ might-makes-right philosophy can only lead to bad things for our community.”
White lines framed Martha’s mouth. “You got that right. Those bastards are nothing but terrorists.” She glanced from him to Tommy. “I know Chaz is your cousin, but that’s how I feel. They killed my Charles. I can’t prove it, but I know it.” Rémi remembered well the firebombing of the Redleafe home. Martha had every right to be angry. The corrupt tribal cops had claimed jurisdiction, but they had done nothing to investigate. The crime had gone unsolved, the perpetrators unpunished.
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