And Theo's smarmy, "Not my fault she freaked out. It's been... what? Thirty years since your mom died? I say your sister needs to get over it. Climb back on the horse that threw her, so to speak."

"Know what? Mercy doesn't deserve you being an a.s.shole to her in her own house, Theo. Sometimes you just plain p.i.s.s me off."

The door slammed behind her.

I don't know which surprised me more, that Hope had stood up to Theo or that she'd stuck up for me.

FOURTEEN.

The following night I sketched out a rough plan.

The rec center on the Eagle River Reservation was the hot spot for teens. With Sue Anne's murder, I a.s.sumed kids would band together, if not to grieve, to gossip. I'd hang out and see what was what.

No reason to disguise myself. None of them had attended Levi's funeral, but Little Bear, Moser, and that group had seen me once in the dark parking lot at the barn dance. I'd spent the majority of my life blending in. If I couldn't stay off the radar of self-absorbed teens, it was time to hang up my spy gear.

I grabbed my Walther P22 and hid it in an ugly crocheted purse Sophie had crafted that I've always hated-be a good reason to get rid of it. Yeah, carrying a firearm to an Indian reservation where I'd be around minors probably wasn't smart. But I'd had enough of being on the receiving end of violent acts. Time to go on the offensive.

Not having streetlights was a double-edged sword for Eagle River. It masked the poverty but provided the ideal situation for criminal activity.

Vehicles cruised the main drag. People of all ages staggered beside the road. Alcohol wasn't permitted on the reservation. Didn't seem to stop it from flowing. Two liquor stores were set up on either end of the highway running through the center of town. Deaths from drunk driving were commonplace.

I hated that the tribal police didn't try harder to control the amount of booze brought in. But the cops spent so much time dealing with the aftereffects of alcohol-drunks, accidents, and domestic violence-that preventative measures were impossible to sustain.

I parked in front of the rec center. Hide in plain sight, that's my motto. I jammed a ball cap on my head and slid into the corner booth by the snack bar.

Quick recon revealed the building consisted of two main rooms and hallways running opposite directions from those rooms. Levi had mentioned to Jake that his group hung out by the pool tables. I ordered a pitcher of c.o.ke and a cheese pizza while I waited.

n.o.body paid attention to me. An hour pa.s.sed. My bladder was full. Time to check out the bathrooms and exits.

No cameras and the men's room was at the end of the corridor, next to a utility closet. And score-an emergency exit. Despite the placard exclaiming ALARM WILL SOUND, I figured it'd been years since the alarm had functioned.

By the time I'd returned from the restroom, Moser, Little Bear, and the entourage held court in the two booths across from the pool tables. Thank G.o.d no music thumped from the speakers to hamper my eavesdropping.

I studied the dynamics of the group and decided it'd be nearly impossible to get Moser or Little Bear alone. I'd have to try for one of the other kids.

Two stood out as potentials. The reed-thin boy with long stringy black hair, a goiter, and a nervous habit of checking his wrist.w.a.tch. Randall Meeks? Or Bucky One Feather? The other good-sized kid with the group could be a threat, so I set my sights on the geeky one.

As I sat in the booth and watched these thugs, my anger grew. It wasn't fair Levi was dead. It wasn't fair these kids were laughing and joking while Sue Anne was lying on a steel table with her throat cut.

I wanted to bang their stupid heads together until I got the answers I needed, or until their blood spilled. I caught myself making a fist on the table. For a second I closed my eyes and sought the internal black void where emotions didn't exist.

Calmer, I pretended to flip through a community newspaper, keeping an eye on the trash talking and the movements of the players.

Randall Meeks weaved through the crowd of preteens to the bathrooms.

Showtime.

I allowed him about thirty seconds before I followed. In the shadowed hallway, I pulled out my gun, tossing the purse in the corner behind the mop bucket. I stuck the compact pistol in my back pocket.

The door to the women's restroom squeaked. Giggling female voices faded behind me.

I positioned myself by the utility closet.

Randall exited the bathroom and tried to blow past me. I blocked him.

"Hey. Whatcha doing? Get outta my way."

"No. Turn around and walk to the emergency exit."

"What the f.u.c.k? Did Moser put you upta this?"

"Start walking."

"f.u.c.k off. I ain't goin' no place with you."

He turned sideways. He made it two steps before I wrapped my arm around his throat and jerked him to a stop. I hissed in his ear, "You had a choice. Now you don't."

A strangled sound emerged. "You're choking me."

"No s.h.i.t. Not another word." I propelled him out the door.

The emergency exit opened into the back parking lot next to the Dumpster. Immediately the gag-inducing odor of old grease and the sour stench of moldy cheese a.s.saulted my senses. Once we hit the pavement, I switched my hold, twisting one arm behind his back in addition to keeping the choke hold.

He yipped with pain.

"Your name."

"Randall M-meeks."

"Tell me about the Warrior Society, Randall."

"I don't know nothing about it."

I increased the pressure on his arm.

He moaned.

"Try again. The Warrior Society."

"Okay, okay. I'm in it."

"Why are two members, Albert Yellow Boy and Sue Anne White Plume, dead?"

"I don't know."

"Who killed them? Was it you?"

"No!"

"Maybe it was one of your buddies? Did Moser snap Albert's neck like this?" I amplified the force by jerking my arm harder around his throat.

"Stop. Jesus, that hurts."

"Who tried to cut off Sue Anne's head?"

"I don't know! Sue Anne ain't been around, and the rest of us been laying low for a while."

"During this time you decided to 'lay low,' did you come up with a plan to keep Levi Arpel out of your club by killing him?" As I said Levi's name, I rammed Randall's hand further up his spine.

He whimpered. "You're hurting me."

"Not as bad as you're gonna hurt if you don't answer the f.u.c.king question." I bent his thumb until it reached his wrist. "Tell me everything or I break it."

"We didn't have nothing to do with Levi. And after what happened with Sue Anne, some of us want out. We're having a meeting with the leaders."

"When?"

"In the next couple days."

"Where?"

"I ain't sure. Lemme go."

"Yeah," a deep voice said behind me. "Let him go."

Keeping my grip on Randall, I wheeled around, using him as a human shield in case these idiots were armed. Satisfied they weren't, I threw him at Moser's feet. Everyone jumped back. Randall stayed on the ground.

"I don't like n.o.body f.u.c.king with my friends," Moser said.

"Yeah? We have something in common then, 'cause I don't like n.o.body f.u.c.king with my family."

"So who's your family?"

"Levi Arpel was my nephew."

Moser, Little Bear, and Bucky exchanged a look.

"What do we care? He's dead."

"That's why I'm here, Moser. For answers on why he's dead."

Little Bear grabbed his crotch. "I got answers for you right here, b.i.t.c.h."

The guys behind him laughed.

"But I'm looking for big answers, Little Bear, not small ones."

That got real laughs until Moser sent them a dirty look. "What makes you think we know anything about it?"

"It's too G.o.dd.a.m.ned coincidental that Albert and Sue Anne were both in the Warrior Society, but trying to get out, and Levi wanted to be in, but you kept him out, and now all three of them are dead."

Moser shrugged. "s.h.i.t happens."

"I don't buy that." My gaze swept the other pimple-faced beanpole. "Bucky and Levi had a fight the night before Levi was murdered. Maybe I oughta drag Bucky to Sheriff Dawson and let Dawson question him."

"You can't force him off the rez because of the sovereign nation laws," Moser said smugly. "Besides. He's a minor. That's kidnapping."

The little b.a.s.t.a.r.d thought he was so smart. Time to smack his pride and point out his stupidity. "Wow. Almost sounds like you're still calling the shots, Moser. But I heard your so-called spiritual leaders horned in and took over."

"Shut up, b.i.t.c.h," Little Bear snapped.

"Bet that burns your a.s.s. You're nothing but a whipping boy. Literally. I heard about the 'toughening' rituals. Do these advisers let you do anything without their permission? Or do you obey like good little conquered Indians and do what they tell you?"

Randall leaped to his feet. "How'd you know? That big-mouthed b.i.t.c.h Sue Anne-"

Moser punched Randall in the jaw and Randall hit the dirt like a hailstone. Then Moser focused on me. Little Bear flanked his left side.

"You don't know s.h.i.t."

"Yeah? Sue Anne told me a bunch of stuff. So did Levi."

Moser's nasty, snaggle-toothed grin appeared. "Whatever Sue Anne said was a lie. And Levi didn't know nothing. Besides, ain't like you can ask him."

Little Bear laughed.

"Gang-raping Lanae Mesteth wasn't a lie, and I know that's why Sue Anne stopped going to meetings." When none of the guys disputed my statement, I had that sinking sensation in my gut.

I grasped for something solid. A threat they hadn't considered. "If I call Lanae and tell her Sue Anne was murdered, she'll come back here and testify against all of you and your leaders."

No response.

Someone a lot more intimidating than me kept these boys on a short leash. "Why is their ident.i.ty such a secret? Why are you guys protecting them? You know they wouldn't do the same for any of you."

That got Moser's attention. He muttered in Lakota to Little Bear and they each took a step sideways.

Ooh, I didn't like the looks of divide and conquer.

As I reached for my gun, a banshee wailed behind Little Bear. My fingers froze on the grip. Next thing I knew, a broom handle thwacked Little Bear across his upper back with enough force he crashed to the ground.

Swish swish crack. Another grunt of pain. This time from Moser. I saw he'd curled his left hand over his right bicep.

Before Moser recovered, another loud crack sounded as the stick connected with his shins. Moaning, he fell to his knees.