“Can we see him?” Will asked, waving Dr. Lucy over. He hoped she could hide her resentment long enough to convince the doctor of her expertise. “We need him to identify the man who took him. It’s critical.”
“As I mentioned, he’s very lethargic. He may have some trouble talking. He’s been through a lot tonight. I’m sure it can wait till morning. We don’t want to retraumatize him.”
Dr. Lucy smoothed her hair, cleared her throat. “I will have you know that I am a licensed child psychologist. I have twenty years of experience treating the children of Fog Harbor. I think I know a thing or two about retraumatization. It can only help Thomas to talk about what happened to him.”
Will piled on. “With all due respect, Doc, it can’t wait until morning. We have a dangerous perpetrator at large and a missing woman. Thomas might be able to help us find them.”
“It’s okay with me,” Nora added, slipping Thomas’s toy soldier, Ranger Rob, into Will’s hand. “Thomas trusts Detective Decker.”
“I suppose a few minutes should be fine. But if he shows any signs of distress…”
Dr. Lucy gave a sage nod. “I’m on it.”
Like a baby bird fallen from its nest, Thomas looked small and breakable, with his eyes half-opened and a heavy cover draped over his body. JB agreed he would wait outside, while Will accompanied Dr. Lucy behind the curtain to Thomas’s bedside. They didn’t want to overwhelm him with too many faces, too many questions.
“Remember me?” Dr. Lucy asked, hopeful.
Thomas barely shrugged, glancing past her to Will. His eyes fixed on the army man in Will’s hand.
“Hey, buddy. How ya feelin’?” Will stepped forward and produced Ranger Rob, setting him atop the bed’s railing. “This guy has been looking for you.”
A faint smile of recognition that quickly faded to gray.
“Dr. Lucy is going to ask you some questions about what happened. Ranger Rob and I will be right here if you need us.”
When the psychologist approached, Thomas ducked beneath the covers, slowly peeking out at her. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“I know it’s hard to talk right now. But, it’s really important for you to tell me everything you can remember since you were asleep at the cabin with your aunt Nora. A lot has happened since then, and the police need your help.”
Beneath the blankets, Thomas shivered. “Is Woofie okay? I tried to save him.”
“Woofie is just fine,” Will reassured him, hoping they could salvage the stuffed toy from the evidence room once it had been processed.
“I had a bad dream and I thought Daddy was calling me from the woods. I heard him through the window. That’s when I saw Woofie. But the bad man got me before me and Woofie could run away.”
“What happened tonight? At the river?” Will couldn’t contain himself any longer. He had to know. “Did you see Doctor Rockwell?”
Thomas gave a small nod. “She said I would be safe and she would take my place. But the bad man threw me in the water anyway.”
Dr. Lucy produced the old photograph of Drake Devere the nurse had printed for them at their request. It came straight from USA News Online. She held it out for Thomas to see. “Do you recognize this person? Is he the bad man?”
Thomas stared at the picture for a moment, his eyes wide. Then he turned away, refusing to look again.
“Is he the one who hurt you and your family?”
Thomas ducked back beneath the covers, prompting a frustrated head shake from Dr. Lucy. She glanced over her shoulder at Will. “Your presence is making him uncomfortable, Detective. It’s too much pressure. Give me a few minutes alone with him. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
With no dinosaurs to throw himself, Will simply glared at her and offered up the plastic army man to Thomas. “Would it help if Ranger Rob looked with you?”
Though Thomas didn’t answer, he poked his head out, his blue eyes dull but alert. Will placed Ranger Rob atop the covers, as Dr. Lucy ushered him out.
“Trust me. I’m a professional.”
Relegated behind the curtain, Will listened with JB and Nora as Dr. Lucy whipped out her trusty crayons and construction paper, cajoling Thomas to draw a picture for her. “Show me where you were today.”
In the long silence that followed, Will heard the swishing of a marker across the page.
“Can you tell me about this drawing?” Dr. Lucy asked.
No answer.
“If you tell me, I might have a Superman sticker in my bag for you.”
Will gritted his teeth. But then, “It’s a house made of dirt and rocks and inside there’s a train and a lake and…” Thomas ran out of breath, taking a heartbreaking gasp. “Outside I saw a Christmas tree.”
“A house made of dirt? Hmm… and what’s this here?”
“Can I have my sticker now?”
From behind them, Will heard approaching footsteps. The doctor appeared, a disapproving frown darkening his face.
“Our patient needs his rest, Detective.”
Will swept back the curtain. He’d heard about enough anyway. “Alright, Thomas. You and Ranger Rob get some rest. We’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”
Thomas eyed the army man Dr. Lucy had moved to his bedside table. His little voice, no louder than a whisper, stopped Will cold. “Did you catch the bad man yet?”
After they’d all been escorted back to the nurses’ station, leaving Nora to say goodnight, Dr. Lucy offered her two cents and the rudimentary drawing Thomas had made. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in anything that little boy says. A house made of dirt? A train? A lake? A Christmas tree, for God’s sake. At this point, it’s probably all confabulation.”
“Confabu-who?” JB asked.
“For all we know, the bad man is a figment of Thomas’s imagination.”
Will paced the floor, huffing out a breath. “I need to go back in there, show him the photo again. Doctor Lucy’s right. He must be confused. Drake is the bad man. He must be.”
JB headed for the door and down the hallway, motioning for Will to follow. Once they were out of earshot, he said, “There’s no way you’re getting back in there tonight. And I wouldn’t trust that shrink to judge Princess’s mental health, much less Thomas’s.”
“You heard him though, right? ‘Did you catch the bad man yet?’”
“I heard him.”
“And? He looked right at that picture of Devere. He didn’t say a word but he looked terrified.”
JB shrugged. “Hell if I know. Ranger Rob, Woofie, the Bad Man. This is exactly why I didn’t have kids.”
“Alright. Well, what now? We can’t just do nothing.”
JB checked his watch. “It’s late. But, you know what? The Golden Steed is open all night. You wait here. I’ll get rid of the professional.”
Will leaned against the wall, forcing himself to take a breath. He realized then that he still had Thomas’s drawing gripped in his hand as if his life depended on it, the edge crinkled in his fist. He held it out and studied the squiggles beneath the bright hospital lights.
Feeling lightheaded, Will rubbed his eyes. He wondered if Olivia had been right. Maybe he was paranoid, seeing things. Maybe he’d lost his damn mind. Because he swore that inside the dirt house, in bright red crayon, Thomas had scribbled 10 X.
Sixty-One
Backdropped by the towering redwoods, the Golden Steed rose up from the earth like a glittering mirage. Its garish bright lights out of place in the wilderness; its glitzy façade outshining the moon. A couple of tribal police cars flanked the ends of the parking lot, the colorful Yurok symbol on the door panel a stark reminder of exactly how far Will’s badge would go on Native American land. Nowhere. He had to depend on kindness instead.
“Let me do the talking,” Will told JB, as they made their way through the crowded lot toward the entrance. “We’ll have to charm our way inside.”
“Shouldn’t I take the lead then?” JB caught himself mid-chuckle, quickly sobering.
>
“Sorry about before,” Will said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You were only trying to cheer me up.”
JB shrugged. “I should’ve known better. Twinkies are a special kind of magic. But they can’t fix everything.”
The tribal policeman stationed at the door held them up, his piercing brown eyes fixed on their gun holsters and badges. His own badge identified him as Officer Jim Featherstone. But the hard edge beneath his thin smile was more stone than feather. Beyond him, Will could see into the belly of the casino, where the seasons never changed, the sun never set.
“Can I help you fellas?”
“Detectives Decker and Benson. We’re here on official police business about a missing woman.”
While JB bit back a laugh, Will cursed himself for sounding so formal. Turns out, he couldn’t do charming. Not right now. On no sleep. With Olivia in danger.
“Oh, really? Because I think we both know Fog Harbor PD’s jurisdiction doesn’t apply on the Rez.”
“C’mon, man. We need to talk to the front desk staff about a phone call they received a few hours ago. It won’t take more than five minutes.” Sensing his resistance, Will doubled down. “It’s extremely important, and you’re impeding our investigation.”
“No can do. And it’s Officer.”
Will shot a pleading glance at JB. He’d never live this one down.
“Officer Featherstone, you will have to excuse my partner. He’s a city slicker still new to the area. He doesn’t understand the way things work.” JB lowered his voice, cupping his hand to his mouth and standing on tiptoe to reach Featherstone’s ear. “To be honest, he’s a slow learner. Tries my patience every damn day.”
“I know the type.”
“Of course you do. You’re the first line of defense out here. That’s a position of trust. You’re doing a mighty fine job. Would you be so kind as to escort us to the front desk so we can get out of your hair?”
Shooting daggers at Will, Featherstone reluctantly accompanied them inside. “Five minutes. No funny business.”
The clamor of the casino, the relentless throbbing of the crowd, pushed Will forward. He blinked his tired eyes against the assault of the bright lights. Winced every time the bells sounded, announcing that another sucker had finally won a round. Already, he needed an aspirin.
“Jeez,” JB muttered. “If that’s your idea of charm, no wonder you’re still single.”
When they reached the front desk, Officer Featherstone spoke for them, catching the heavily lined eye of the bottle-blonde clerk, Geena. She smacked her gum and winked at him. “Hey, Feather.”
Featherstone poked out his chest and cleared his throat, eyeing Will and JB like a pair of cockroaches that had skittered across his shoe. “These two cops want to know if some lady called here a while ago asking questions.”
Geena looked equally offended, chewing her gum with newfound intensity. “You do realize this is the front desk. Everyone who calls is asking about something. Got a name?”
“Doctor Olivia Rockwell,” JB answered. “She might’ve been a little—”
“Pushy. Demanding even.” Will didn’t think Olivia would mind. Desperate times and all.
“Hmph.” Featherstone cocked his head at Geena. “Imagine that.”
“Don’t recall any doctors,” she said. “Or any Olivias. It might help if you knew the reason for her call.”
Will took a breath, barely holding it together. “That’s why we’re here. We don’t know what it was about. But it might have been unusual. Do you remember anything like that?”
The desk phone rang, and Geena answered it, putting the caller on hold before she turned back to him and shrugged. “I don’t. But my shift started at midnight, so… if you don’t mind.” She flashed a pointed glance at the blinking red phone light. “Good evening. It’s always your lucky day at the Golden Steed. How can I help you?”
“Guess you boys got your answer.” Officer Featherstone seemed pleased. “Time to hit the road.”
Will glanced over his shoulder, waiting for JB’s reply. He hoped his partner could sweet-talk the officer into letting them take a look around.
JB rubbed his hands together eagerly, his eyes bright. “You mind if I give her one quick pull just for old times’ sake?”
“Excuse me?”
“The slots. C’mon, Featherstone. Don’t you ever let your hair down?”
Will stood near the row of slots, listening to the hollow clink of coins on metal as JB fed quarters into the machine. Thankfully, a noisy disagreement at the high rollers’ poker table had drawn the attention of Officer Featherstone. The young dealer was unable to keep the peace and was in way over her head. But Will knew it wouldn’t take Featherstone long to throw a couple of drunken buffoons out on their asses.
“Eyes up and out,” JB instructed, as he pulled the lever. “You’re supposed to be doing detective work right now.”
“I’m supposed to be doing detective work. What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m the decoy.” JB didn’t take his eyes from the spinning reel. “C’mon, Double Diamonds…”
Slumping against the side of the machine, Will released a breath. “This is a waste of time. We need to get back to Olivia’s house and help with the search. It’s the only thing left to do. Featherstone isn’t going to be too keen on us hanging out here.”
“With that attitude, I’ll be feeding the one-armed bandit all night.” He loaded up another quarter. “Now get out there and do what you do best. Figure shit out.”
Just then, the poker table went flying, upended in the scuffle that had suddenly turned into a brawl. Stunned, Officer Featherstone struggled to get his footing as he slipped on the playing cards strewn across the floor. The moment he managed to right himself, the bigger of the two combatants reared back and prepared to put him back down with a wallop to the face.
Will wished more than anything he could turn off his sense of duty like a switch. He owed Featherstone nothing. Less than nothing. Even so, he couldn’t watch the guy get pummeled.
He ran over and grabbed the patron from behind, securing his grip beneath the man’s armpits. “Cool it,” he growled, using his knee for leverage. “You don’t want to hit a police officer.”
“Feather ain’t no real cop.”
The universe clearly testing him, Will heard himself say, “He’s got a badge and a gun. That’s real enough for me.”
Trying to wriggle himself free, the patron unleashed a string of curse words. Will tilted back and dropped him to the ground, holding him there until the rest of the tribal police rushed in to assist.
“We’ve got it from here, Detective.” Officer Featherstone stood over him, red-faced. At least the poker dealer seemed grateful. She busied herself collecting the cards and chips that had scattered in the melee.
Will took his sweet time getting up. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice. That guy almost cleaned your clock.”
“I had it under control.”
“Sure you did.” JB extended his hand to Will. “Just like the captain of the Titanic.”
As Will rose to his feet, half smiling, he spotted it in the debris, partially hidden under a few remaining poker chips. He held it in his palm.
“What is this?” he asked, passing it to Featherstone.
The officer glanced at it. Gave a casual shrug before passing it to the dealer. She slipped it in her pocket. “A happy horseshoe,” Featherstone said.
Puzzling, JB scratched his chin.
“It’s a token we use at the casino. We hand it out to the VIPs.” He pointed at the bright red exit sign, ushering them toward it. “All the casinos do it. The Lion’s Head and Ruby Tempest too.”
To Will, it had the ring of truth. Everyone on the police force knew Bulldog Bullock spent his off nights at the Yurok casinos. Will surmised that the tourmaline paw in Bullock’s possession came courtesy of the Lion’s Head. “So, that’s it? Just show the token and you’re in? Seems pretty low-tech.�
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“Not exactly. A fingerprint scan is required for confirmation of ID.”
“I don’t suppose you have a list of those folks? The VIPs.”
“Of course we do. It’s proprietary.” Hands on his hips, he focused his eyes on the doors, waiting for them to get the hell out.
Will turned his attention to the dealer instead. Doe-eyed, she didn’t look a day over the requisite twenty-one. “One of your tokens showed up at the scene of our murder. We think it might have belonged to law enforcement or someone pretending to be. Any of your high rollers fit that description?”
“Don’t answer that, Casey.” Featherstone stepped in between them, so close Will had no choice but to back down. “Most cops know they’re not welcome around here. And don’t even bother threatening to get a search warrant. You know as well as I do your warrant is worthless here on the Rez.”
As they trekked back to the car, JB flashed the cash-out voucher he’d printed from the slot machine and hooted in celebration. “Jackpot!”
“You won fifteen dollars,” Will said flatly.
“And a complimentary trip to the all-you-can-eat buffet.”
“You’re on a diet.”
JB wiggled his brows. “They’ve got a salad bar.”
“You hate salad.”
Throwing up his hands, JB made an exasperated face at Will. “At least we found the horseshoe. You can’t argue with that.”
Will opened his mouth again, ready to remind his partner that the token meant nothing without the names on the VIP list. Even then, the horseshoe could’ve ended up with anyone, anywhere, at any time. Really, the whole trip had been a bust. Meanwhile, they’d gotten no closer to finding Olivia.
“Actually…” Will found himself smiling in spite of it all. “I found the horseshoe.”
“Hey, Detective!” Casey loud-whispered, as she skirted in between cars, hurrying to catch up to them. “Sorry about Feather. He can be a jerk sometimes, but he means well. Rumor is that his best friend got shot by a local cop when they were teenagers. I don’t know if there’s any truth to it, but he gets pretty surly when Fog Harbor PD shows up.”
One Child Alive: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with nail-biting suspense (Rockwell and Decker Book 3) Page 25