So he was playing both sides. I knew deep down there was a heart in there, that a part of him really cared about his tribe and who really killed Lina Sever. Or did he want to keep Timothy quiet and deal with the murderer on his own?
“Yona, will you please show Miss Steele to Mr. James’s cell?” Chaska Tate said over his shoulder. A thin woman with jet-black hair and a gorgeous green silk wrap-around dress came into view. She smiled politely.
“This way,” she said in almost a whisper.
Walking past Chaska, I motioned for Joshua, who was waiting out in the lobby. He hefted himself out of the chair he was crushing and followed me and Yona down a long hallway. She looked back at us and seemed to be sizing us up.
“He is this way.” She turned and pushed the down button on a single elevator. It looked to be a service elevator, maybe used just for the jail.
“Have you worked here long?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’m Yona Watters.”
“YONA.” TIMOTHY REACHED THROUGH the rusting bars and the two embraced as much as two people could through prison bars. They kissed. I stood flatfooted, not sure what to do or say.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Yona stepped back and looked Timothy over.
“I’m fine. They pushed me around a little, but nothing to worry about.” The lights flickered. I looked around for cameras, but didn’t see any.
“So … I take it you two know each other?” I said, breaking the moment. “Or is this how every prisoner is treated?”
Timothy smiled and looked around nervously. “Cameras?”
Yona shook her head. “Just at the main doors. We should be safe.”
Joshua spoke up. “Miss Watters, what relation are you to Takota Watters?”
She squeezed Timothy’s hand. “I’m his sister. Much younger sister. And I’m afraid that my relationship with Timothy makes this case a hundred times more complicated. My brother would like nothing more than to keep him behind bars.”
From the way her voice trembled and the worry in her eyes, I could tell she was under a lot of stress.
I was feeling the stress too. So much to do, so little time. The longer he stayed here, the harder it would be to get him out of this situation and find the real killer. “Joshua, can you do me a favor?” I whispered. “Go see if you can find out where Lina Sever worked. I’ll follow up with you after we’re done here.”
He nodded and turned toward the elevator at the far end of the hall.
“Can you unlock the door so we can talk a little easier?”
Yona shook her head. “I don’t have a key, and unless we are in an interrogation room, they wouldn’t approve of letting him out.”
“They, meaning Chaska Tate and—”
“And me.” Everyone jumped at the sound of a deep voice coming from the open elevator doors. I spun around, and Timothy and Yona pulled apart like two teenagers caught by a parent.
The very tall and very Indian man walked toward us with slow, confident strides. He wore a designer suit and had an expensive haircut—he had a white streak above each of his ears, and a scar on his lip. I wondered if he’d seen Yona and Timothy kissing. “I see you found the prisoner. I’m Takota Watters.” He put out his hand and smiled as if he was about to ask me out to dinner.
“Sarah Steele.” His hand was warm, and he shook mine with the perfect amount of firmness.
“Yes, I know. My head of security said you were beautiful. I see he still has a good eye for women.” Turning to Yona, he frowned. “You can go now.” She hung her head and hurried back down the hall.
I was about to make a jab at how he was being domineering toward his sister, but I wanted to gauge him better before I stepped into a hole I couldn’t get out of.
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that you are the FBI contact.” I wondered how that ever got pushed through.
“You’re smart, too. Impressive.” His dark eyes searched mine and it made me uncomfortable. He was a stunning man, well built for his age, with amazing skin. “Yes, I work for the FBI as well as for the tribal council. And I own this casino.” He chuckled. “Well, all three casinos.”
Timothy grunted. “You treat everything as if you own it. Even your sister.”
Watters shot Timothy an amused look. “Mr. James, I see you’ve got yourself into more trouble. I thought I warned you to keep out of things that were none of your business.”
“The abuse of women going unpunished is my business. Or don’t you care about your own family? Yona could be next!”
Watters didn’t flinch. “I care a great deal, but you have your job and I have mine. Now, Miss Steele. You may talk to the prisoner, but do not touch him or get close enough to pass something to him. If you wish, I can have an interrogation room set up for you.” He lifted an eyebrow and leaned closer to me. I could smell his aftershave, and it was not altogether unpleasant.
“That won’t be necessary.” I didn’t want anyone listening in on our conversation.
“Very well. I wanted to meet you and let you know that as long as you respect our rules, you are welcome to visit Timothy during regular visiting hours.”
“Thank you. And will you be in charge of the investigation?”
“I am, but there is not much to investigate.” His eyes hardened. “We have our killer. You can start preparing for the trial. He’ll be judged fairly for his crimes.”
Anger welled up in me, but I choked it down. “We both know he didn’t do it.” I was having a hard time keeping my voice calm.
He put his hands behind his back. “You have your version—I have mine. We will work to get a trial date as soon as possible. People will want to see justice done.”
Justice? What is that? “And if I can prove he didn’t do it, what then?”
“I’m not interested in poking holes in this case, Miss Steele. If you come up with evidence, I will listen. But I will not be swayed by anything that points to some unknown killer. You produce a murderer, and I will free your man.” He leaned down so he could look me in the eye. I wish I’d worn heels. “But I’d say your evidence is long gone. Don’t waste your time.”
With that, Watters turned and left the way he’d come. I stood staring after him and all at once felt completely helpless. He pushed the elevator call button and turned his head back down the hall. “Tick tock, Miss Steele. We don’t like drawn-out trials like you white people do. Justice must be swift and sure. If you plan to prove your client’s innocence, I suggest you get to it.”
With that, the doors slid open and he stepped inside. I stood in stunned silence, not sure what to say or do next. There were times when I got stumped. Not many times, but I knew that, in a minute or two, I would think of a great comeback. Damn him.
I had to figure out who the real killer was before Timothy’s trial. There were people to interview and evidence to collect—no time to waste feeling helpless.
I crossed my arms. “Don’t get comfortable,” I called to Timothy. “You won’t be in this dungeon long.”
He gripped his hair and closed his eyes. My heart wrenched in sympathy. “You’ve got to tell me more,” I said. “Tell me anything, everything you know about this place and your work here.”
Single bulbs hung down the center of the long hall and barred cells lined each side. There were maybe twenty holding cells in all, no windows, not much light, and it felt like the air wasn’t moving at all.
“It doesn’t look good, Timothy. They have their own rules here and you really must have pissed off some important people.”
“Just wait till they read my story in the paper.”
I stopped pacing. “Are you going to print it?”
“I have to. That or use it to force them to make some changes.”
I shook my head. “No way. Your life is on the line.”
He nodded and looked down at his feet. “I know, but you don’t understand. What goes on around here—it’s wrong. I have to tell the world about it, especially if I end up �
� well, if the worst should happen, it can’t be at the expense of my silence. I have to get word to my editor.”
I admired his courage, but wondered why he cared so much. “Why haven’t you sent it in yet?”
Timothy rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Yona. She wants me to hold it, to wait until she talks to her brother and Chaska Tate. She wants to reason with them, talk to them and change what’s been going on around here before I call them out. She has a lot at stake here too. She’s written the U.S. government trying to get aid for the women’s shelter program. She founded a shelter ten years ago and uses her own money to find housing for single mothers, abused women, and the like. She’s convinced she can get through to them.”
“Does she have any pull with Chaska?”
He nodded. “Yes, she’s the only thing standing in the way of all-out war between the two. They both respect her, and at one time, Chaska was in love with her.”
This surprised me a little. They both seemed to treat her like a slave, as if she were just some secretary. “Yeesh. She’s so much younger than him.”
“By at least twenty years. I don’t know what happened, but I know if Chaska finds out that we are … that …”
“That you’re in love with each other?”
Timothy blew out a shuddering breath. “They would kill me.”
AFTER AN HOUR OF talking with Timothy, I felt like I had a good handle on what he was working on and the nature of what I was getting myself into.
“The first issue is that the casinos are used to smuggle in drugs, women, and money. Everything is about the casinos,” Timothy said. “They employ most of the tribe, they bring in a lot of money, and every member gets a fat check each month—bribe money to keep quiet about anything the powers tell them to keep quiet about. The second issue is the abuse of women in the tribe. There were more than fifty-two rapes in the past two years and only one man was ever incarcerated—and he had spent a whole sixty days behind bars before he got out on bail.”
I typed notes in my phone as he spoke. The situation was bad, and I could see now that Timothy had stirred up a hornets’ nest. “No wonder you were set up. You can make a lot of unwanted trouble for the tribe members if you go public.”
“I know, but someone has to do something. Men from outside the reservation know that what happens here stays here. It’s like a rape Vegas, and it brings in gamblers and lowlife from all over. The women aren’t safe, and they’re starting to stand up for themselves. That’s why Yona was ready to work with me when I showed up to research my story.”
“How did you hear about all this? I mean, what led you to your story idea?”
“I got a tip from a source—I can’t say who, but it was good enough that I had to follow it up.”
Standing, I stretched and looked up and down the hall to the poorly maintained jail.
“This is like the mob. Power, abuse, and corruption. Only problem is, they’re their own nation and don’t have to report anything. It’s the perfect setup for organized crime.”
Timothy agreed.
“Okay, I think I have enough for now. I need to talk with my partners and see what they found out. But I have a much better picture of what we’re dealing with here.”
After making my way up the elevator, I was about to leave the office when Yona came from behind her desk and took me aside. “Miss Steele,” she said in a whisper. “Please be careful. I don’t want you to end up like Timothy, or worse. He was asking the right questions of the wrong people and look what happened. It may be best if you let me handle it by myself.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, I have you to look out for me.” I was trying to lighten the mood, but she didn’t crack a smile.
“I don’t think you understand.” Her eyes darted around like a scared child’s.
“Why don’t I stay with you for a day or so? That way, you can keep an eye on me and I won’t get myself killed.” I was hoping I could get her alone, and nothing makes a girl open up more than a night of wine and ice cream.
Yona looked at me and then over her shoulder as if she was worried someone was eavesdropping. “That’s not a good idea—you’re an outsider. Just go home and don’t stay here in the hotel, whatever you do.”
“Yona, you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to Timothy.” She didn’t seem reassured, but there was only so much I could do.
I texted Joshua and he said he still needed another hour. So I decided to jump in the car and explore the town—the real town, not this casino façade. After a five-minute drive down a two-lane highway, I pulled into a beautiful town square surrounded by boutiques and cute restaurants. A shabby little building sat in the corner with “Women’s Clinic” on the awning. It looked out of place, like it was the only building no one cared about. There were walking paths through the square, a huge fountain in the middle, and little ponds lined with trees and beautifully landscaped lawns.
I picked up a sandwich from the café and took a walk around. There was a lot of money flowing through this place, and expensive cars were parked on the street.
It was warm, and I found a bench where I could wait for Joshua and people watch. He texted and said he was almost done. I finished my sandwich. It was getting close to dinnertime and I had to decide if I was going to stay here tonight or drive back to Boise.
Some boys were skateboarding up and down the square, hooting at any girl they passed. I rolled my eyes at the youthful mating calls. I guess it was the same no matter your blood background—boys were boys.
“You lost, white girl?”
I turned toward the voice and saw a man who looked to be in his twenties. He had two other guys with him, all with long hair and tribal tattoos.
“Nope, I know just where I am.” I gave him a confident smile. Far from being scared, I was aware of everything. If this guy wanted a fight, he’d picked the wrong girl.
“I don’t think you do. You must be lost because you’re sitting on our bench.”
THE THREE YOUNG MEN laughed and walked around me like sharks about to feed. “I think you should run along and find somewhere else to sit,” one said, sneering at me.
I didn’t think they were that dangerous, but as soon as they began taunting me I saw the group of skaters hurry over. From their gleeful expressions, I didn’t think they’d come to help me.
“Look, I’m just sitting here eating a late lunch. I’ve had a hard day, and if you’ll wait a few minutes, I’ll be done and you can have your bench back.” I was tired and my mind was going over the case backward and forward, beginning its overthinking craziness, so I knew I was in for a sleepless night to boot.
“But we want it now, don’t we?” The ringleader waved a hand to the others and they nodded. I counted eight in the group. I was beginning to wonder if this bench was worth the fight to keep, which just pissed me off more.
“We don’t like people like you around here—stinks up the place. The casino is crap-full of your kind—run back there. So if you don’t mind . . . ” He took my arm and began to lift me up.
My body flooded with electric energy. I spun toward him and kneed him in the groin as hard as I could. He let out a girlish moan and I came down on the back of his neck with an elbow. He hit the ground hard and everyone stood staring at me in shock.
“Now,” I said lightly, barely panting. “Anyone else want this bench?”
If they did the math, they would see that no matter how strong I was, they had the numbers. But I was betting these guys weren’t great at math. Just as one turned angrily to me, his hand raised, Yona came running into the middle of the circle.
“Boys, what are you doing?” When they saw her, their demeanor changed instantly. Their shoulders hunched and none of them would meet her eyes. She spoke in a motherly tone. “This is our guest. Why are you disrespecting her like this?” The group hung their heads, and one kid kicked the ground with his boot. I could tell that they knew her, even feared her—or maybe just feared her brothe
r.
“We were just messing around, Yona,” one of the boys said. “Meant no disrespect to you.” Yona helped up the guy I’d kneed and he hobbled away.
“You should be kind to women, especially guests,” Yona scolded them, and the group meandered off.
Yona turned to me and wagged a finger in my face. “I told you to be careful. What were you doing?”
“Trying to eat my lunch.” I sipped from my water bottle and brushed the wrinkles out of my blouse.
Yona sighed and put her hands on her hips. “You can stay with me tonight, but only because you’re trying to help Timothy.”
I smiled. “Thank you so much. Got room for two?”
YONA’S HOUSE WAS STYLISH and beautiful—designed with lots of natural light and dark wood trim, and her color palette was earthy and warm. I instantly felt relaxed, and the wine glass she handed me full of pinot noir helped me relax even further. We sipped as she gave me a tour. I stopped at a vintage photo, framed, that hung above her fireplace. It was of a young Indian woman with a tiny baby on her lap. Her big eyes sparkled as she held the child.
“Who’s this?”
Yona’s mouth pulled down in sadness. “That’s my grandmother. She was an amazing woman, full of joy and love for her family, and the best at making fried pies in the whole town.”
“Fried pies? That’s a thing?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“I need one.”
“We’ll find you one tomorrow.” She looked back up at the picture. “She died in childbirth. I hung it up there to remember. It gives me purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked back at me. “Gram could easily have survived if there’d been proper health care here. It’s my goal to get every woman and child good health care and safe homes.”
I nodded. “That’s why you got involved with Timothy. He was going to bring about change.”
The Steele Collection Books 1-3: Sarah Steele Legal Thrillers Page 32