Bitter Rain (Kate Fox Book 3) Read online

  “It helps that you’re a coyote,” Douglas said. “If you’d learn to cook for yourself, you wouldn’t have to rely on your family to feed you.”

  “I can cook.” I’d managed to put meals on the table for eight years when I lived on Frog Creek. Some of them pretty good, if I do say so myself.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Still, when someone invites you to dinner, you ought to accept.”

  I jerked up straight. “Lauren called you?”

  He shook his head. “Michael.” Michael and Douglas were twins. They didn’t look alike and rarely agreed, but if one knew something, it was a sure bet the other did, too. They were close as salt and pepper. “We disagree on who’s right for you.”

  That ought to take my appetite away, but I kept eating. “I figured Michael didn’t know Lauren was setting me up.”

  Douglas laughed. “Oh hell, I think it was Michael’s idea. He’s voting for Heath Scranton.”

  I kept eating. It tasted too good to waste over personal discomfort.

  While Kyle’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl again, I swallowed and got serious. “Do you ever go into Dry Creek?”

  Douglas looked surprised. “As little as possible.”

  Kyle caught him in his sights. “But you do go sometimes?”

  Douglas shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not great, but Frankie’s carries butter and milk.”

  I swallowed another spoonful of deliciousness. “Been there lately?”

  He tensed. “What is this about?”

  Kyle leaned forward. “My sister went missing Saturday night.”

  “Shelly Red Owl?”

  We both stared at him in surprise.

  He shrugged. “I helped out with an FFA project at Sand Gap High. Shelly’s a good kid.” To Douglas, everyone in the world was a good guy or a good kid or a hell of a good hand—unless you worked for him, of course.

  Kyle jumped in. “So you know she wouldn’t just run away.”

  Douglas frowned. “Well, young girls can get skittish.” He tipped his head my way. “Like Carly. They get a notion, and all of the sudden they’re gone.”

  The stew soured in my stomach.

  Kyle was firm. “Not Shelly.”

  Douglas stared at him as if debating whether to argue. “How often have you been around her in the last couple of months?”

  Alarm flashed in Kyle’s eyes. “She’s been busy with end-of-school stuff. Graduation and college prep. But we talk on the phone.”

  Douglas picked up a spoon and set it back down. Raindrops splattered on the kitchen window. “I’m not like a school counselor or anything. Only there a couple of times a week and I see the kids for maybe an hour at a time. But something changed with her.”

  Kyle focused like a hawk on a mouse. “What are you talking about?”

  Sweet Douglas. The compassionate Fox. If I had to receive bad news, I’d want it to come from him. “I noticed she seemed distracted and tired. Times she actually dozed at her desk. And we were doing aquaculture, so there wasn’t a lot of sitting around.”

  “Aqua, as in fish?” I asked.

  Douglas kept his eyes on Kyle. “Salmon hatchery. Last year we experimented with mushroom farms. We’re trying to find entrepreneurial ventures that can create new economies on the rez.”

  Kyle ignored me. “Everything she had going on, she was probably worn out.”

  If Shelly had been trying to take care of Rita, and Alex was acting up, that might drag her down.

  Douglas’s voice grew softer, not quieter. “A couple of the teachers told me her grades had fallen off. She hadn’t turned in her last English paper, and her math teacher said she barely passed the last trig test.”

  Kyle shook his head. “That’s not true. She was valedictorian.”

  “That’s why I heard about it. The staff was upset she’d dropped off like that because all the announcements had been made and graduation programs printed. Her grades were high enough even with her messing up like that, so they let it go.”

  Kyle barely stayed seated. “That’s only been a month ago. If she was doing so bad, why didn’t I know about it?”

  It was only after Carly vanished that I realized she’d been acting strangely. Her sudden interest in her father’s death. Asking questions about how he’d afforded the new house and indoor arena for his wife, Roxy. Maybe she’d be here with me now if I’d been paying more attention.

  I wanted to pat Kyle’s hand but didn’t. “Who knows what goes on in someone else’s head?”

  Kyle stacked his empty bowl on the others. “Do you know anything about Lee Barnett?”

  Douglas studied us before he spoke. “Why are you suddenly interested in Barnett?”

  Kyle’s voice sounded strained. “My sister is missing.”

  Douglas looked alarmed. “And you think Barnett has something to do with it?”

  I held up my palm. “No. But Barnett acted like he didn’t recognize her car when he should have.”

  We waited, the sound of the rain tracking time. Finally, Douglas folded his hands on his belly. “I don’t know anything for a fact.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  He shifted. “You asked if I go into Dry Creek.” He paused.

  I pushed. “Right.”

  “A couple of times I’ve seen Barnett there.” He toyed with one of the spoons.

  I prompted him. “He was there just now. Hanging out with Frankie Delrose.”

  Douglas looked up at me. “Who else was there?”

  Kyle answered, “Sammy Good Crow, Graham White Lance, a couple of guys I didn’t know.”

  Douglas seemed satisfied. “No girls?”

  Kyle jumped on that. “Why?”

  Again, Douglas seemed reluctant to say. “I don’t know anything, really.”

  “Say it,” I said.

  He swallowed. “A few months ago I was in Dry Creek after dark. Barnett was there in his pickup.”

  He stopped, and I nudged his shoulder.

  “He was helping a drunk girl get in.”

  This felt all wrong. “Did you ask him about it?”

  Douglas nodded. “Sure I did. And he said she was underage and he was taking her to Potsville and charging her with MIP.”

  Both of Kyle’s hands showed white knuckles.

  “But when I watched the newspaper, I never saw the booking record. She was underage, so they wouldn’t publish her name, but they usually say someone was picked up. And I didn’t know the girl, so I couldn’t check up with her.”

  Kyle pushed his chair back. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Back to Dry Creek. That bastard knows something.”

  I didn’t get up. “I’m not taking you with me.”

  “Then I’ll go myself.”

  “Calm down, will you? We can’t go barging in and accusing Barnett of kidnapping your sister.”

  “Why not?”

  I folded my arms, planting myself in Douglas’s kitchen chair. “We’ve got no proof of anything. We don’t even know Shelly is missing. She’s eighteen, so legally, she’s an adult and can go where she wants.”

  “I’m not going to sit on my thumbs while you play diplomat with a damn racist.”

  Douglas stood, filling the room with authority. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Barnett is an ass, all right. But for all we know, he might have been taking that girl home.”

  Kyle snorted. “This is the man I’ve seen finish a can of beer, crush it on the bar, and shout, ‘Another dead injun.’ And you think he might be out helping young drunk Lakota maidens?”

  Douglas held up his hand. “Lee Barnett isn’t a great guy—”

  Kyle ground out his words. “Something about the whole story bothered you or you wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Come on, man, you know he wasn’t helping her out.”

  I stayed sitting, hoping to keep emotions lowered. “Before we go knocking down Barnett’s door, let’s talk to Shelly’s friends. See if maybe something was going on with her.” />
  Kyle’s breath came hot and fast. “We’re wasting time. Barnett took her. I know it.”

  A sharp bird’s chirp rang out, startling me. Douglas perked his head. Kyle’s hand dove for his pocket, and he pulled out his phone.

  He swiped it and stared at the screen, alarm in his eyes.

  I couldn’t wait. “What?”

  He sounded as if I’d sucker-punched him. “Shelly.” He handed me his phone.

  I stared at the green dialogue box from Shelly on Kyle’s phone. As if she’d been sitting in our conversation at Douglas’s kitchen table, she’d written, “I’m okay.”

  Kyle snatched the phone from me. He tapped back, his face scrunched and his breathing fast.

  The bird chirped again. He read.

  He might be used to living alone and not having anyone around to talk to, but I wanted to know. “Tell me.”

  “She said, ‘I’m good. Alex is cool.’”

  He typed again, and in a second the phone chirped. His shoulders slumped and he handed me the phone.

  I read out loud to keep Douglas in the loop. “Kyle asked her where she was. She said, ‘Not your business, leave me and Alex alone.’”

  Kyle took the phone I offered him and typed again. Douglas picked up the bowls and set them in the sink. No chirp.

  My phone rang and I jumped, answering quickly as if I thought maybe Shelly might be calling.

  Sarah didn’t wait for me to finish announcing myself as sheriff. “You better frickin’ get yourself to Michael and Lauren’s tonight.”

  Douglas turned from the sink, obviously hearing Sarah yelling through the phone. He pointed and laughed. “Busted.”

  I sighed. “You know how much I appreciate you all meddling in my life and telling me how you think I should live, but I’m really busy working a case and can’t make it.”

  Douglas raised his voice so Sarah could hear. “That’s a lie.”

  “It is not,” I said to him.

  Douglas pointed to Kyle. “Shelly may not be found, but she’s not lost, either.”

  Kyle didn’t bother looking up as he typed away. Still no answering chirp.

  Sarah latched onto Douglas’s announcement. “Don’t be a douche about this. Maybe you aren’t interested in Heath Scranton. I get that. I’m voting for Josh, myself.”

  I burst out, “What is this voting BS?”

  She ignored that. “But Heath is a nice guy, and Lauren is a great cook. Think about it. Lauren, Michael, me, Robert. And Heath. Sitting there at a table all alone.”

  Lauren was a great cook, and even though I hated rhubarb and didn’t consider it food, she’d probably pair it with her famous homemade ice cream. “I’m not responsible for Heath Scranton’s feelings.”

  Sarah wasn’t going quietly. “Oh, right. It’s not like you owe him anything. Like maybe for stitching up that stupid hard head of yours. And it barely left a scar. You ingrate.”

  Douglas pumped the air. “You gotta love a sister-in-law who tells it like it is.”

  I glared at him. “No, you don’t.” She was right that I owed Heath hospitality at least. My head got bashed in when I was attacked last winter, and Heath had stitched up my forehead, saving me a call to the ambulance or a drive to Broken Butte County Hospital’s emergency room.

  “Besides,” Sarah wasn’t quite done. “Even if you don’t care about Heath, you love me, and you wouldn’t send me out there, in all my pregnant glory, to make small talk with Lauren all night long. Even you aren’t that cruel.”

  “Even me?” At least now, until the baby was born, Sarah still wanted me around.

  Sarah sighed. “You did make me double-date with that nerd from Omaha.”

  “And you’ll never let me forget it.”

  “And you didn’t stop me from marrying into this crazy family.”

  “You can’t pin that on me.”

  “So you’ll come to Michael and Lauren’s tonight.”

  “Fine.”

  She brightened and in a singsong said, “See you soon!”

  Kyle didn’t bother looking up as he typed away. Still no answering chirp.

  14

  We thanked Douglas for the delicious stew and slogged through the drizzle to the cruiser. I considered our options. The shortest route to Hodgekiss took us deep into the hills. “With all this rain, I’d rather go back to the highway and around instead of dirt roads.”

  Kyle nodded, clearly distracted. “That’s fine. I want to stop in Dry Creek again.”

  I tapped my finger on the steering wheel. “What about the texts from Shelly?”

  Kyle’s voice sounded as tight as his neck looked. “She’s in trouble.”

  “The texts didn’t make it sound like trouble. More like a kid acting out.”

  “It’s not like Shelly.”

  We were back on the merry-go-round where I repeated that Shelly had been acting different than normal and he told me she was a good kid. “You think the texts aren’t legit?”

  He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Maybe whoever has her forced her to text me. Or maybe he texted himself.”

  That was true. “Why mention Alex?”

  Evidently, he didn’t have a theory on that, because he answered, “Sammy Good Crow’s sister used to be a friend of Shelly’s. He might know something or at least know where his sister is.”

  Twenty minutes later we cruised into Dry Creek, and it hadn’t changed in the last two hours. Probably much the same as in the last two decades. Or more.

  We pulled into Frankie’s parking lot. Sammy Good Crow still sat on the pavement to the side of the store along with three other men. A rusty black beater car, filled to overflowing with people, sputtered out of the lot and turned toward Antelope Ridge. A knot of younger people, maybe in their twenties, headed out of the parking lot on foot, along the highway toward the rez.

  Kyle got out, and I tagged along behind him. Sammy sat with his legs in front of him as if the bones had been removed, head resting on the side of the building, eyes closed.

  Kyle stopped in front of Sammy and tapped him on the bottom of his grungy tennis shoe. “Sammy, wake up, man.”

  Sammy wagged his head from side to side and slowly opened his eyes. “Kyley Two-Shoes.”

  “Good to see you.” Kyle’s cheery voice covered his worry. “Hey, you seen Shelly around lately?”

  Sammy stopped moving his head and stared at Kyle as if trying to bring several images into focus. “Shelly, your sister? Whaddya wan’ from her?”

  Kyle looked way more relaxed than I knew him to be. “Ma’s worried, you know. She’s been gone a couple of days. I told Ma I’d try to find her.”

  Sammy snorted and left his mouth open, like a door he’d forgotten to close. He roused himself. “Saw her a while back. It was that cold night. Remember?”

  Because there’d only been one cold night in Nebraska, ever.

  Kyle didn’t press on the timing. “Was she with anyone?”

  One of the other men, who seemed more alert than Sammy, offered information. “Dat Shelly, she comes aroun’ sometimes. She tries to get the kids to stop partyin’. She’s like a Indian narc.”

  Kyle focused on the talker. “You see my sister around here? Shelly Red Owl?”

  He nodded like his neck was rubber. “I seen her haulin’ off girls that come to have a good time. At leas’ those girls come back.”

  Kyle alerted like a sniffer dog on a joint. “What do you mean, those girls come back?”

  Sammy snorted. “Man, I hate this rain. How long you suppose it’s gonna keep this up?”

  Kyle nudged the foot of the other man. “Are there girls who go missing?”

  The man sat up straighter, though that made him list toward Sammy. “All the time, man. Poof. Like smoke.”

  Kyle prodded the man. “Who?”

  Sammy squinted at Kyle as if trying to sharpen his image. “There was Ginny Two Guns.”

  “Yeah,” the other man said. “An’ that cousin of hers. An’ what abou
t Missy Iron Cloud?”

  Sammy shook his head. “Naw. She wasn’t the one. It was that, what was her name?”

  The two men lost interest in Kyle and mumbled back and forth, disagreeing with each name they threw out.

  Finally, Kyle raised his voice. “Hey. What about Shelly? Was she drinking or hanging out with a bad crowd?”

  The man took a few seconds to concentrate. “Naw, she’s like you, bro. Kyley Two-Shoes.” He snickered. “Shelly Two-Shoes. Sounds better.”

  Kyle spoke to Sammy. “Your sister around?”

  Sammy leaned his head against the building and mumbled. “They went to Lead for a track meet.”

  “She and Shelly still good friends?”

  Sammy closed his eyes. “I’m kinda thirsty, man.”

  Kyle tapped Sammy’s foot. “Think about that night you saw her. Maybe Saturday night.”

  Sammy’s tongue snaked out and licked his lips. “Shelly drive that car of Darrel’s, huh?”

  Kyle’s effort at easygoing cracked at the edges. “His old Marquis. Yeah. So, she was here in the car. With who?”

  The guy sitting next to Sammy swiped his arm under his nose. “Heard she was working for the ranch.”

  Kyle zeroed in on the guy. “What ranch?”

  The guy blinked. “That place, you know. Where Darrel worked. You know.”

  Sammy nodded. “Yeah. They come get us sometimes. Want us to work for them. Pay us cash. Pro’ly Shelly’s planting corn or somethin’.”

  It made sense now, how Marty and Rhonda found labor. “Guy drives a white pickup?”

  Sammy smacked his lips. “If I wasn’t so thirsty I could think better.”

  I considered bringing him a Mountain Dew and figured that wouldn’t get us any more information. Still, it wouldn’t hurt Sammy. I spun around to enter Frankie’s. The flicking overhead light and cloud of cigarette smoke made me hurry.

  Barnett and Frankie no longer parlayed near the front counter. Now, Frankie’s wife, the ever-bubbly and beautiful Starla, lasered me with her angry stare. She didn’t offer a hello but crossed her arms over her breasts and thinned her mouth to invisible, leaving her caterpillar eyebrows her dominant features.