All hell had broken loose, and I forgot about it entirely.
11
Yells of outrage and flailing arms greeted me when I entered tribal police headquarters.
Verline’s family members were attacking Rollie with their fists and their voices.
Several tribal cops stepped in to stop it, but there were five Dupris women and three cops. Bad odds.
So I jumped into the fray. I kept my back to Rollie, figuring he wouldn’t take a swing at me. But someone did land two blows to my head in rapid succession, directly on my ear. The immediate burst of pain caused me to lose my balance.
That pissed me off.
And it didn’t seem like the officers intended to restrain anyone, so I did.
Grabbing a zip tie from my pocket, I snatched somebody’s arm midblow. I jerked the wrist; the body attached lurched forward. I saw a surprised look on Maureen Dupris’s face a split second before I spun her around, immobilized her hands, and shoved her to her knees.
Another zip tie, another flailing arm, and I put Carline in the same position as her sister.
Nita glared at me as Officer Orson restrained her. I faced the other women I didn’t know; I assumed they were more of Nita’s daughters. “You will back off right now, or I will throw all of you in jail for attempted assault on a federal officer, understand?”
The women aimed defiant looks at me.
Nita sneered, “Try it.”
Without breaking eye contact with Nita, I said, “Officer Orson, cuff her.”
Protests rang out around me, but I ignored them.
Once Nita was cuffed, I stepped back. “Put her in interview room one.”
“What about him?” Officer Ferguson asked of Rollie.
“Put him in interview room two.”
“You can’t just leave us out here like this,” Maureen complained.
“I can put you in a holding cell, if you’d rather,” I offered.
“We need to be with our mother. She’s grieving. She’s… not thinking straight.”
I suspected Nita was the one who had sucker punched me. “Her grief hasn’t seemed to affect her aim, so she stays in cuffs until she calms down.” I looked at each one of them in turn. “We’ll interview you separately, so make yourselves comfy on that bench.”
I’d left my purse in my pickup. So much for popping a couple of Excedrin to stave off a headache. I was rubbing the spot between my eyes when Turnbull blocked my path.
His gaze roamed over my face and stopped at my reddened ear. “You always seem to end up in the line of fire.”
“Story of my life. I don’t suppose you’ve got any aspirin?”
“I’ll track some down.” Turnbull threw a look over his shoulder. “The tribal police chief is insisting on sitting in during the interviews.”
I groaned. “More jurisdictional bullshit?”
“Yeah. And without you thinking I’m sexist, I believe the best division of labor is for you to question the Dupris family and I’ll question Rondeaux.”
There was more to it than that. “And we don’t want anyone questioning whether I was impartial with Rollie, since I have a personal relationship with him.”
“Exactly. But I want to observe your sessions and I want you present when I talk to Rollie. Okay?”
“Fine.”
Turnbull opened the door to interview room one.
Nita Dupris stood beside the window. She turned and bestowed another lovely look of hatred upon me.
Tribal Police Chief Looks Twice entered after us, followed by Officer Ferguson and Carsten.
She raised a blond brow at me. “Is it necessary to keep her cuffed?”
I looked at Nita. “Do you plan on taking another swing at me?”
She shook her head.
I signaled to Officer Orson to remove the cuffs. On his way out the door I said, “Would you keep an eye on the daughters?”
We sat around the conference table. I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly and silently. “Miz Dupris, this is not a formal interview. You are not being charged with anything. Do you understand?”
A fuck-you look, but no response.
“I will need a verbal confirmation from you that you understand why you’re here.”
“Fine. I know why I’m here. Get on with the questions.”
“Did your daughter Verline live with you permanently?”
“No. She’s been livin’ with Rollie Rondeaux for the last three years. But she and her babies had been staying with me.”
“For how long?”
“About five days.”
“Was she in your residence for the majority of those five days?”
“No. She took off the morning of the third day, and she ain’t been back.”
“And this didn’t concern you?”
She shrugged. “Verline… well, she’s young. She’s got two little ones and an old man who don’t care about her or them babies. She needs a break once in a while. She hangs out with her friends a few days and then she comes back.”
“Who are her friends?”
“She don’t tell me.”
“Where does she go?”
Her lips flattened. “She don’t tell me that neither.”
“What’s the longest you remember her being gone?”
“Five or six days.”
“Do you have any idea where she spent those days?”
“Nope.”
“So you weren’t concerned when you hadn’t heard from her?”
Nita shook her head.
“She doesn’t even call you to check on her children when she takes these breaks?”
“Not usually. She knows they’re better off with me than with Rollie.” Nita leaned closer. “I ain’t gonna let that old man have them. He ain’t any more a father to them than the police chief is. And now they’re all I’ll have left of my baby girl-” Her voice broke.
Carsten poured her a glass of water and spoke in low, comforting tones.
When she’d settled, I resumed the questions. “Had Verline mentioned any threats against her?”
“Only the ones from Rollie. He said he’d throw her ass in the street if she got knocked up again.”
That sounded like a Rollie bluff.
“Rollie also said that he’d kill her if he ever found out she was fucking around on him. He’d kill her and not lose a wink of sleep over it. I heard him say that one time when they were fighting on the phone.”
No mistaking that as a bluff.
“Did she owe anyone money?”
Nita frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Had she been accused of taking something that didn’t belong to her?”
“I don’t know. Why does that matter?”
Because her hand had been chopped off like a thief’s. “Was she involved in any illegal activity? Like selling drugs?” I sensed Carsten’s displeasure with the question, but she didn’t object.
“Verline didn’t do drugs, and she stayed far away from people that sell them and do them.”
I asked a couple more questions, but it was becoming apparent Nita was just a babysitter, not Verline’s confidante.
“Can you think of anything else that might help us?” I asked.
“That sly bastard Rollie Rondeaux had something to do with her getting killed. Even if he didn’t do it, he somehow made it happen. He wanted to be rid of her. And he knows I will fight him tooth and nail on getting permanent guardianship. I’ve done it with my boys’ kids, and I’ll do it for Verline’s babies, too.”
“Thank you, Miz Dupris. We’ll be in touch.”
I scribbled in my notebook as Carsten walked out and brought in the next family member.
The interviews with the sisters were short. None of them had seen Verline during the missing days, but all of them were convinced Rollie Rondeaux had killed her. None could offer proof, but they all believed it.
The last sister to come in was Doreen. She asked if her answers would be confidential, and I had a glimmer of hope that she could provide new information. When I asked if she had any idea where Verline might’ve spent those missing three days, she said most likely with Junior Rondeaux.