Eye of the Tiger Lily

by Ann Yost

  “Doni gedowiozin?” How are you?

  There were only a few fluent speakers of Penobscot left on the rez. Molly and Daniel and a handful of others tried to keep what was left of the language alive.

  She smiled at him even as she contrasted the man she adored with the man she loved. Daniel was a wise and circumspect chief. Cameron Outlaw, without a drop of Native American blood, was a warrior, passionate and proud.

  “Newowlowzi.” I’m fine.

  Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and Daniel made a sound of sympathy. His affection sent her over the edge.

  “Nizwia.”

  More tears fell. This time they were for Daniel. He’d connected her to the Penobscot Nation, given her a home and status in the community, rescued her from the humiliation of an unwed pregnancy and she’d given him nothing but loneliness.

  His unbound hair flowed around her, comforting her, protecting her. He continued to hold her but he loosened his grasp.

  “You didn’t go through with it.”

  She thought about the months of injecting herself with fertility drugs, the letter to the Boston clinic outlining the exact characteristics she was looking for in donor sperm, the prayers she’d offered that Cam’s sperm wouldn’t have been discarded or marked as private-use only and this morning’s appointment for the insemination that she’d almost canceled.

  “I did.”

  Daniel like Muriel had not approved of the devious plan. It offended his strong sense of fair play.

  “Conscience bothering you?”

  “A little. But I want that baby so much.”

  “I know.” He did know. He’d been there to pick up the pieces when she’d lost Cam’s baby all those years ago. “Come have some tea.”

  Daniel drew her into the small kitchen and settled her in one of the hand-hewn wooden chairs. He moved quietly, efficiently, heating water, pouring it through loose tea leaves creating a heartening brew. Then he set the mugs on the table and took the opposite chair. His dark eyes held hers. Molly hoped he wasn’t going to talk about her recent actions.

  “Actually,” he said, “I’m here on business. And to bring you some news.”

  She relaxed a little. She and Daniel had remained close after their divorce ten years earlier, but she seldom saw him since he’d moved to Washington, D.C., to work with the Indian Gaming Commission.

  “I’m coming home.”

  She grinned. It was the best possible news. “Oligun. It is good. Have you quit the commission?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. There’s unfinished business.”

  Molly remembered Muriel’s words and she felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. “It’s about Blackbird Casino, isn’t it?”

  He took a sip of the fragrant tea before he answered. “The projected profit isn’t there,” he explained. “We’re getting the numbers, but not the income.”

  “What do you suspect?”

  “Skimming. Theft.”

  Molly gasped. This was a far cry from the exploitation of the girls. It was a different problem. An additional problem.

  “But who?”

  He shrugged. “There’s no proof yet but, you know what they say. Follow the money.”

  “And where does the money lead?”

  “Well, Davey just purchased a new Porsche.”

  Davey Tall Tree, middle-aged, pudgy, the original never-met-a-stranger kind of guy had recently been elected Sagama in a popularity contest. As chief he spent his days working at the community center, organizing computer classes, bingo tournaments, basketball games for very little money. Molly knew he was the tribe’s liaison with the syndicate that had partnered with local bankers, including Cam, to fund the casino. The gambling syndicate, Trimerica, was now running both the casino and resort.

  There was no way Davey Tall Tree could have afforded an expensive sports car on his own.

  “Surely he isn’t using casino profits for himself.”

  “Not directly. But there are a hundred ways the syndicate can find to ‘pay’ him for services rendered.”

  “This isn’t fair! The Tribal Council promised we’d use the first profits to build a clinic. I can’t believe Davey would cheat us. Maybe the car’s a loaner.”

  Daniel shrugged. “He’s got that new wife. I imagine he’s trying to impress her.”

  Sandra Tall Tree was a generation younger than her forty-five-year-old husband. She was stylish, sophisticated and she didn’t mix well with the other women on the rez. Like Molly, Sandra was only part Indian and an import to the Penobscot Nation. Sandra came from a small Maliseet reservation in Canada. When the casino opened she’d taken a job as personal assistant to the resort manager and since then her nose seemed to ride even higher in the air.

  “Even if, for the sake of argument, Davey’s getting a kickback, it wouldn’t account for the shortfall. Eddie DiMarco is behind this,” Daniel said, referring to the casino manager. “He claims he hasn’t had the traffic to generate more money. My sources say he’s lying.”

  Molly knew Daniel, a reservation native, was still well connected. Much of the staff of both the casino and resort was Indian.

  “Can you investigate in your official capacity?”

  He pushed a hand through his long hair.

  “The commission has no guts and no teeth. I need hard evidence to turn this over to the FBI. DiMarco showed me the records he wanted me to see. The trouble is, these days you can move money electronically. There’s no paper trail.”

  Molly pondered that.

  “Even so wouldn’t there be a record on a computer?”

  He nodded. “Sure. I saw the official computer. Examined it. Everything on it supports DiMarco’s claims. There has to be another one somewhere. Probably a laptop. But my hands are tied. Without some kind of tangible proof, I can’t run a search.”

  Molly understood Daniel’s frustration. His agency was under-funded and it didn’t pack the legal muscle to push these casino operators to the wall even though everyone suspected they were often operating on the edge of the law and sometimes on the other side of it.

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “We believe Trimerica has ties to the Calabrese family in L.A.”

  Molly felt the world caving in. “We’ve hired a mobster to run the casino? Good grief. When the Tribal Council hired DiMarco we thought we were getting someone with experience.”

  “He’s got experience all right. Most of it in fraud.”

  Molly studied him with brooding eyes. She hated to be the bearer of even more bad news. She sighed. There wasn’t really any choice.

  “Daniel, are you ready for the other shoe to drop?”

  He looked at her with dark eyes.

  “Muriel says someone, probably DiMarco or that resort manager, Dwight Winston, is using our girls as an-an escort service. Lenaya Dove is pregnant.”

  Daniel shook his head but he didn’t look surprised. It occurred to Molly that he’d seen nearly every kind of exploitation in his forty-eight years.

  “We thought the casino would ensure sovereignty and fiscal health. We should have tried something else. The Choctaws in Mississippi make circuit boards, the Wisconsin Chippewa operate a pizza chain and the Eastern Cherokee own a mirror company.”

  “You know we did our research, Daniel. Maine is a tourist state. This seemed like the best option at the time.”

  “I know.”

  He sounded hopeless.

  Molly shivered. For a moment Daniel reminded her of her father. She’d watched as a combination of disappointment and disillusionment had propelled John Wind down a path to drink and self-destruction. She didn’t really believe that would happen to Daniel. He was strong. But Molly had to be sure. She owed Daniel and she owed the tribe. She made a quick decision.

  “I’m going to find out,” she said. “I’ll get a job up there and get the proof you need to shut the casino down until the mob guys are weeded out. I can be a maid or a masseuse. That’ll give
me a perfect opportunity to check out these hot tub orgies and to hunt for the laptop.”

  He shook his head but she forestalled his protest.

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m perfect for the job. I haven’t been near the resort or casino since they opened. Neither DiMarco nor Winston knows me. And you know I can take care of myself.”

  His black eyes narrowed on her. He shook his head. “You’re known to the staff, Molly. Don’t you think people will wonder why a busy midwife is moonlighting for minimum wage?”

  “I’ll say I need the extra money to take some on-line classes. Everybody will understand that.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “What will you do when some guy propositions you?”

  She blinked. Their marriage had been a rescue mission. Sex was not a subject Molly usually discussed with Daniel.

  “I don’t imagine anyone is forced. I’ll just say no.”

  “Is this atonement? Do you feel guilty about the insemination?”

  Unbearably guilty. Even though she hadn’t broken any laws. She’d asked for a sperm donor that matched Cam’s characteristics, right down to and including, “plays piano by ear.”

  Molly knew she had no moral right to this baby but she wanted him or her enough to abandon her strong sense of right and wrong, enough to betray the man she still loved, enough to live with guilt for the rest of her life. Second only to the baby and the baby’s father, Molly loved the tribe.

  “I want to do this for the rez,” she said, quietly. “This is my home, Daniel. This is where my life is.”

  “A lonely life.”

  “Maybe that will change.”

  “You should marry someone else, Molly. You need a husband as well as a child. Cameron Outlaw is not the only man in the world.”

  “He is for me.” She said it simply, unemotionally, but it was true. She knew it and Daniel knew it.

  Daniel made an exasperated sound and switched back to the other subject. “I don’t like this plan. It isn’t your job to take care of the tribe.”

  She shook her head. “I never do anything I don’t want to do. You, of all people, should know that.”

  “You’ll be alone up at the casino,” he warned.

  “You’ll be a phone call away.” She was ready to talk about something else. “Will you live here, with me, when you move back?” Her cottage belonged to Daniel.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he said.

  “That sounds mysterious.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe you aren’t the only one with secrets.”

  Her eyes widened and she gaped at him.

  “Daniel! Have you met a woman?”

  “Not in the way you mean. As I said, we’ll talk later. You’re tired now and so am I.”

  Molly’s mind spun with plans for her project. It could be a little sticky but she was grateful for the diversion. It would keep her from dwelling on the insemination and her guilt. She had no proof the sperm belonged to Cam, but she knew it did. She knew it in her heart, just as she knew the insemination would be successful. She would get her dark-haired, blue-eyed baby. She just knew it. A short time later she fell asleep with a smile on her lips

  ****

  Cam’s cell phone buzzed the minute he’d forked a sizeable bite of syrup-soaked pancake into his mouth.

  Figured.

  “Want me to answer it?”

  He smiled at the elegant woman seated on his left. Sharon Johnson’s fresh complexion and dark auburn hair reminded him of strawberries and cream. They were in the midst of a breakfast meeting with Eden’s would-be micro-entrepreneurs. Cam had just set up a lending circle to allow Nellie Smith to start a wedding cake business, Seth Digby, a car detailing shop, and Mrs. Eulalie Catteridge, a computer website through which she could sell her hand-knit sweaters.

  The air in the Garden of Eden’s dining room hummed with excitement. The small business people of Eden were getting a new lease on life and Cam was happy to be part of it.

  “’Ats okay,” he spoke around his food. Cam intended to put off the caller. He wanted Nellie, Seth and Mrs. Cat to know they were important to him. He chewed fast and punched the phone without bothering to leave the table. “This is Grey Wolf. I need to talk to you.”

  The voice though previously unknown to him, sent a jolt of electricity screaming through his body. Every nerve stood on end.

  Daniel Grey Wolf. Molly Whitecloud’s husband. The man she’d married when she’d chosen her heritage over Cam. The delicious food turned to cardboard in his mouth.

  “I’m busy.”

  “It’s about Molly.”

  Naturally. Cam clenched his teeth even as he intercepted Sharon’s concerned look. “She isn’t my business.”

  “Then you don’t care if she is in danger?”

  Cam bit out a curse that halted the breakfast table conversation. He angled his body away from the group and lowered his voice.

  “You help her.”

  “I can’t. Not this time.”

  Cam’s heart jerked. Damn the man. Damn the woman, too.

  “Do you know where the spinney is in the woods near Blackbird Pond?”

  The spinney. His mind spun back thirteen years to another September day. Under the canopy of lush brown leaves he and Molly Whitecloud had made love for the first and last time just before he left for college.

  Even now he could hear the squawking cicadas and feel the drumming of his eighteen-year-old heart. She’d kissed him and, overcome with a sense of love and impending loss, he’d slipped his arms around her waist. They’d kissed before, but this time was different. This time Cam couldn’t control his hunger. He’d tugged her to the ground, his hands moving urgently. At the first taste of her resilient flesh he’d lost track of the insects and the grass, the clear blue sky, the light breeze. He’d lost touch with reality as he’d kissed Molly and stroked her. He’d nearly exploded when she’d touched him with eager, shy hands. Mindless with excitement, he’d buried himself in her softness. It had never been like that again and Cam had long accepted the grim truth. He’d loved the girl he’d nicknamed Tiger Lily. Some part of him, damn his soul, still loved her.

  Cam caught sight of Sharon’s curious brown eyes and he forced himself to relax. Molly was no longer part of his life. He had a bright, new future with a woman who would be loyal. He loosened his death grip on the phone and lowered his voice.

  “I know where the spinney is,” he bit out, “but I’ll be damned if I meet you there or anywhere else.”

  “Forty-five minutes,” Grey Wolf said. He hung up.

  Cam held very still for a moment before he pocketed his phone. He forced himself to smile at Sharon. He forced himself to continue the business meeting. He tried to force himself not to get in his late model Mercedes to go meet with the man who had married his woman. His heart.

  He failed.

  Chapter Two

  Well, hell. He was trapped in a sugar cube.

  Cam paced the snow-hued carpet and glared at the vanilla walls.

  Normally he didn’t pace any more than he dithered, but, dammit, nothing about his life was normal anymore. Especially not the prospect of meeting up with Molly.

  Tiger Lily.

  It had taken him years to stop dreaming about her, years to stop hating her, years to recover his equilibrium and now he was risking his hard-won contentment. He still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to play her escort. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He sucked in a deep breath and reminded himself this was temporary. He had a bright new future, a new woman. And he had a purpose for this masquerade. He’d built the casino. He was responsible for the welfare of the employees and the honesty of the operation. He really had no choice but to investigate. It was just too damned bad that Molly Whitecloud was part of the deal.

  Cam measured the length of the room again with his long strides. Finally he forced himself to stop. He pulled an unopened package of cigarettes out of his breast pocket and
frowned at it. He hadn’t smoked in the years since college, not until Daniel Grey Wolf had interrupted his breakfast meeting three days earlier. He didn’t intend to smoke the pack in his pocket. It was a prop because this was a charade.

  Cam squinted at the cream-colored upholstery on the antique sofa. He could almost imagine he was sitting on a cloud in heaven about to meet up with the angel who’d betrayed him. Only the blood-red roses in a milky vase on the white marble console broke the pale canvas of the room. They stood out like a bloodstain on a freshly laundered sheet. A faint shiver trickled up his spine. Panic gripped him and he fought it with anger.

  Dammit all. He didn’t want to be in this saccharine hell. He was no damn knight in shining armor. If DiMarco was defrauding the tribe he had to be stopped. But not by him. And not by Molly.

  He snorted in derision. Of course by Molly. The woman would do anything for the tribe. It had always been her first, greatest love. This time, at least, her interests and his overlapped. Not only did he feel responsible for the casino, his own reputation was at stake. He wondered, briefly, if she’d feel grateful for his help and decided she wouldn’t. He’d been a blip on her radar screen, an alien experience that she, no doubt, regretted as soon as he’d gone away to college. When he’d seen her around during the past year she’d looked composed, serene, older than he remembered but contented. It was clear she didn’t regret giving him up. He no longer regretted it either.

  Would she bail out when she discovered he was here? Would she insist on handling the undercover assignment alone? His stomach clenched at the thought. She was a tiny woman. It would be David facing Goliath minus the slingshot.

  Cam glanced into the room that contained a heart-shaped bed. Frothy, whipped-cream drapes around it provided a veil of intimacy. He felt an unwanted stirring beneath his belt. He’d have to work fast. He’d have to make sure they were miles away from here before night. Otherwise he faced hours of lying on the white sofa with visions in his head of Tiger Lily’s black hair spread on the heart-shaped bed’s pillow, her long, black lashes half-hiding her indigo eyes.

  He’d always thought those eyes contained magic. And love.