Merciless

“Yes. No one in this office was happy he won the election. Our old tribal police chief, Darwin Swallow, requested early retirement. Then he moved to Arizona.”

“How did Elk Thunder win?”

“Members of the tribe want to believe things would get better. There would be new jobs. There would be new houses. Better health care. Better opportunities for young people. Elk Thunder played on that, without promising it. He’s pretty charismatic.” She shrugged. “He didn’t win by much, but it was enough.”

“Any other high-profile tribal members resign a position after Elk Thunder took office?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“I appreciate your candor, Fergie.” I slipped on my coat.

“Will any agents be around tomorrow?”

“Probably not here. But if somebody races in and confesses to the murders, give Agent Turnbull or me a call at the Rapid City FBI office.”

I recognized the street address Fergie gave me as being in a newer development on the outskirts of Eagle River. The Elk Thunder abode was one of the nicest houses: a brick ranch style, with a two-car garage and a circular driveway in front. A chain-link fence ran down both sides of the house, keeping critters and trespassers out of the backyard.

I parked in the circle and admired the landscape as I walked up to the front door. I rang the doorbell twice.

The door flew open, and Triscell warned, “I told you kids not to-Oh, Agent…”

“Gunderson,” I supplied.

“Obviously, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Elk Thunder, but I was on my way home, after an interview regarding Arlette’s case, and I realized I hadn’t done a follow-up interview with you.”

“Do you have any leads on who killed Arlette?”

“Not yet. Your husband asked the same question.” I inched closer to the door, wanting a peek at the presidential palace. “Is he home?”

“Yes, but he’s on the phone. Tribal council business. It can take hours.”

So much for my testing the water and hitting him up for a loan. “Ah.” I stared at her long enough that she realized she hadn’t invited me inside.

“Sorry, come in.”

I suspected I wouldn’t make it off the tiled foyer. But I could see the room beyond the fake marble arches. No colorful Indian artwork or decor anywhere in the living area. The entire room-from the couches to the end tables to the carpet to the walls-was white: hues ranging from pristine white, to off-white, to vanilla, to cream. I wondered what Rollie would say about that. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. We’ve worked hard for it. No one knows how much energy it takes to own a business.”

I made appropriate affirmative noises.

“So are you here because that other girl was found dead?” she asked. “And are the cases connected?”

“That’s what we’re working on.” I blathered about some random, pointless procedural stuff until I sensed her impatience. Then I pulled a Columbo, smiling before I apologized for rambling. “Oh, one more thing before I let you get back to what you were doing. I understand you’re an herbalist, using traditional Native American herbs?”

“I dabble. Why?”

“I have friends who dabble, too. It seems there’d be a lot of different things to store and to remember. What ingredients can be mixed together, and what cannot be mixed together. Do you have a special area where you work?”

She leaned against the wall, more at ease. “No, I work in the kitchen. There’s really not that much to mix, since I make small batches for my own use.”

“Small batches of what?”

“Facial products. Natural ointments for sore muscles.”

I nodded. “I love arnica gel. Did Arlette ever use any of your natural products?”

“No.”

“Nothing? That’s unfortunate. I hope your husband takes advantage of your herbal expertise.”

She smiled. “Oh, he does. He knows just as much about herbs and cures as I do.”

Bingo. “Do you concoct herbal teas? I know Sophie was always trying to get me to drink her rose hip and marshmallow root tea.” Such a liar, Mercy.

Triscell’s smile faded. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

I’d hit a nerve. But for teas? “It’s probably not. Well, except for the fact Arlette had poison in her body. Digitalis? Ever heard of it? Nasty stuff.”

“Are you accusing me of poisoning my niece? Because if that’s your assumption, I can assure you that your commander at the FBI will get-”

“No, ma’am, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just asking. This information didn’t come up until after you’d been in the tribal PD, and we’ve not had a chance to speak to you or your husband about it, since he slapped us with a no-contact order where you’re concerned.”

Her eyes turned frosty. “Latimer did that? Well, I certainly had no knowledge of it. And I wouldn’t have agreed with his decision. Death is too common around here, and you can ignore it until it happens to your family.” She straightened her spine. “So ask your questions, because I’ve got nothing to hide.”