There was our first lead.
Shay, Carsten, and Officer Ferguson left to escort the Dupris family out of the station, leaving me with the tribal police chief. I said, “No love lost between the Dupris family and Rondeaux family?”
“Ain’t just the Dupris family that takes issues with Rondeaux.”
I shut my notebook before I met the police chief’s eyes. “You’ve known Rollie Rondeaux a long time. You’ve been a cop on this reservation for years. Do you think Rollie could’ve done that to Verline?”
Tribal Police Chief Looks Twice fidgeted. Then he sighed again. “I honestly don’t know. But I do know we’ve been making the man wait for over an hour. I’ll be surprised if he hasn’t left.”
The five of us paused outside the other interview room. Turnbull handed me three aspirins and a bottle of water before leading the way inside.
Rollie was hunkered down in his chair and appeared to be sleeping. But as soon as we gathered around the table, he looked up.
His red-rimmed eyes made my heart hurt.
“Thanks for waiting, Mr. Rondeaux,” Carsten said.
“I don’t suppose you can tell me anything Verline’s family said about me, hey.”
“Afraid not,” Turnbull said brusquely. “So let’s get started. When was the last time you saw Verline?”
“Five days ago.”
“And was everything all right between you?”
Rollie shook his head, and the braids by his temples swayed.
“Care to elaborate?” Turnbull asked curtly.
No response, which annoyed Turnbull.
“It’s okay, Mr. Rondeaux,” Carsten said softly. “Take your time.”
Finally, Rollie said, “We had a big fight. Same old, same old. She’s young, I’m not. She wanted more than just bein’ my live-in, and I wasn’t about to put a ring on her finger.”
“What happened after the fight?”
“Again, same old, same old. She packed a bag, shoved the kids in the car, and took off for her mom’s place.”
Shay tapped his pen on his pad of paper. “How often did that happen?”
Rollie scratched his chin. “I reckon once every two or three months. First time it’s happened since she had the last baby. But that didn’t change the way she acted. Verline don’t call, she stays away until she works her mad off. By that time she’s sick of stayin’ with her mom, so she comes back to me.”
“Were you ever worried when you didn’t hear from her?”
“Worried to the point I file a missing-persons report? Nope.”
“Didn’t it bother you when she took off with your kids and dumped them at her mom’s house?”
“Course it bothered me. Nothin’ I could do about it. She wasn’t gonna listen to me. She was young. And as she pointed out, I ain’t got no claim on her.”
“Did you have any idea what she was doing and who she was doing it with when she disappeared for a few days?”
Rollie went very still. “I heard rumors. Never confirmed or denied.”
“Would any of those rumors ever cause you to become violent with Verline?”
“Huh-uh.”
“How would you describe your relationship with the two children you and Verline have together?”
“No different than the relationships I’ve had with my other kids. They’re both babies. Attached to her teat. Alls they care about is her. They don’t need me for nothin’.”
I got the impression that that didn’t particularly bother him.
Turnbull wrote in his notebook. “You didn’t want more kids? Were you mad that she got pregnant?”
“Having more babies at my age wasn’t something I wanted. It was something Verline did.”
“So you didn’t threaten her?”
“Nope.”
“Do you know anyone else who might’ve threatened her?”
Rollie just stared at him.
Tension thickened the air.
After a minute or so, Shay prompted, “Mr. Rondeaux?”
“I have many enemies, Agent Turnbull. But none have been so bold as to threaten my family, let alone act on it. But perhaps that’s what this is about, eh? To prove a point to me?”
Why hadn’t I thought of revenge on Rollie as a motive for killing Verline? Rollie was well connected, but that didn’t translate into well liked. Plenty of folks would love to see his intricate web of favors dismantled. What better way to do that than to put him under police suspicion that he’d killed his estranged lover?
When Rollie’s gaze connected with mine, I saw nothing in his eyes. My stomach roiled, and my heart nearly stopped. I’d existed in that black vortex for years, and I recognized that blank look in him; I saw it in my own eyes in the mirror after I’d snuffed a life. And for the first time, I realized that my friend… might be guilty of murder. Or more than one murder.
“What about your son?”
“Which son?” Rollie asked Turnbull, tearing his gaze away from mine.
“Junior. He lived with you and Verline for a while. Why did you kick him out?”
He said, “My prerogative,” and nothing else.
For the next four questions, Rollie gave one word answers.
I knew he was done cooperating, the chief knew he was done cooperating, but Turnbull didn’t stop-until Carsten interrupted.
“Thanks for coming in and answering the agents’ questions, Mr. Rondeaux. But I believe that will be sufficient for today. It’s been a tiring day for you; I can’t imagine you’ll get much sleep, but you should go home and try. Someone from Victim Services will be in touch in the next few days. We’re sorry for your loss.”
Rollie nodded. It took him a beat or two to push out of his chair, again reminding me how old he’d started to look. Carsten escorted him out. Chief Looks Twice and Officer Ferguson followed.
Shay’s voice was cutting. “Did you see how he shuffled out of here like an old man? Trying to leave the impression that he’s harmless and helpless?”
I kept my mouth shut. Shay wasn’t asking for a response. Just thinking out loud. I was more than a little confused. More than a little heartsick. I wanted to go home and try to put this day behind me. I interrupted his muttering. “Are we done here, Agent Turnbull?”
He aimed a cool gaze at me. “You are, I suppose.”
“What do you have to do?”
“Paperwork on another case. Might as well finish while I’m here.”
I stood. “Are we in the Rapid City office tomorrow? Or here?”
“Rapid City. Unless you hear otherwise.”
“See you.” I found my coat in the employee breakroom, although I had no recollection of putting it there.
I popped the collar around my ears when the wind sideswiped me. Huge snowflakes swirled, the effect strangely magical set against the black backdrop of the night sky and the foggy beams from the parking lot lights. I was so entranced by the sight that I didn’t notice the hooded figure lounging against the SUV next to my truck until I reached the driver’s-side door.
My hand automatically went to my holster. People always ask me why I leave my coat unbuttoned: I’d rather be cold than have buttons keep me from immediate access to my gun. “If you’re armed, drop it. Slowly. Hands in the air.”
My voice startled him and he leaped back, throwing his arms above his head. “Jesus, you scared the crap outta me.”
“Who is that?”
“Junior.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yeah. And shee, why you always pointin’ a gun at me, hey?”
“Why you always sneakin’ up on me, hey?” I held my stance. “Why are you lurking in the parking lot?”
“Waitin’ for you.”
“Didn’t you tell me you’d be dead if Saro caught you here?” I snapped.
“I… can I put my damn hands down?”
I nodded, keeping my gun on him. “Why were you waiting for me?”
“I wanted to ask you about… Verline.” Junior lowered his hood, and I saw misery etched on his face.
I had a bad feeling about this.
He tilted his head toward the sky and closed his eyes. Snowflakes landed on his cheeks and melted immediately, sliding down his face like tears. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”