Tribal Court (22 page)

Chapter 47

"Oh, no," Kat whispered. "What are we going to do?"

Brunelle looked around. Dim moonlight barely lit the room. "Get in the closet. It's me he's after."

"Who is, David?"

"Just do as I say."

"But David…"

"Do it."

Kat stared at him. In the pale light, he could see the tears glinting in her eyes. She nodded, then stood up and slipped into the closet. Brunelle stood up too, just as Johnny Quilcene stepped into the doorway.

"Brunelle," he said flatly. He flipped on the light switch, temporarily blinding Brunelle. "Hernandez says hi."

Quilcene had a semi-auto leveled right at Brunelle's chest. Large caliber by the looks of it.

"I thought Hernandez was dead," Brunelle replied, trying to sound brave.

"He is," Quilcene seethed. "Thanks to you."

"Me? I didn't have anything to do with him getting shot."

"Sure," Quilcene scoffed. "And your fat prosecutor friend didn't stab Bobby either."

"Well, I'm still not sure about that," Brunelle replied. "I actually thought he did it too. But now I'm not so sure."

Brunelle thought for a moment. "Is that why you shot him when he stepped out of the police station? Because you thought he killed your cousin?"

"He did kill my cousin," Quilcene shouted. "And I didn't shoot him. Hernandez did." He flashed an evil smile. "I was just driving."

Brunelle nodded. "Well, an accomplice is guilty of the same crime as the principal."

Quilcene shook the gun. "Shut up, Brunelle. It's time to end this blood feud."

Brunelle threw his hands wide. "Are you fucking kidding me? Blood feud? You really bought into that bullshit?"

Quilcene seemed shaken by Brunelle's reaction. "Yeah, well, not at first. I didn't stick Traver because of no fucking blood feud bullshit. I stuck him because he diddled my niece. Fuck him. You don't fucking touch my niece. Nobody touches my family"

Brunelle nodded. "Yeah, I kinda knew that. So what's with the blood feud crap?"

Quilcene narrowed his eyes. "The blood feud started when your fucking partner stabbed my cousin. That was him taking blood revenge. Him and you were taking Traver's side."

"I never took Traver's side," Brunelle protested. "Between you and me, I'm glad he's gone. But you can't just go kill somebody."

"Tell that to your partner," Quilcene shot back. "At least Traver fucking deserved it. Bobby didn't do nothing to deserve a knife in his chest."

Brunelle thought for a moment. He guessed Quilcene's gang-banger cousin had probably done more than enough in his life to deserve a knife in the chest, but he decided against saying as much. "I'm sure he didn't. But I'm pretty sure Freddy didn't kill him either."

"How would you know that?"

"Because I accused him of it. I thought he'd done it and I told him that. He denied it and stormed out of the police station. That's when you—or Hernandez, I guess—shot him."

Then Brunelle realized something. "How did you know Freddy was even there?"

Quilcene smiled again. "I got a tip."

"A tip?" Brunelle's brow furrowed. "From who?"

"Same guy who tipped me off that Hernandez was dead and you was walking down by the casino."

The furrow deepened. "Who, Johnny?"

Quilcene opened his mouth, but then didn't say anything. Instead, his face twisted into a pained grimace.  A moment later, his eyes rolled up and his arm dropped down, the gun falling to the floor just before he did the same.

From out of the darkness behind him stepped Sixrivers, a simple hunting knife his hand, its blade glistening with blood.

Kat burst out of the closet. "Tommy! Oh, thank God it's you. Thank you. Thank you."

Sixrivers screwed up his face at her. "Kat? What are you doing here?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Long story, Tommy. I'll tell you back at the precinct. Thank God Larry called you."

Sixrivers shook his head. "Chen didn't call me."

"Of course he didn't," Brunelle said, pulling Kat against him.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Why not?"

"Because," Brunelle answered, his eyes fixed on Sixrivers, "Tommy is the one behind all this."

Chapter 48

"What?" Kat exclaimed. "Don't be ridiculous. Tommy just saved us."

"No," Brunelle corrected. "Tommy just silenced Quilcene before he could tell us that Tommy was the one who tipped him off about Freddy and then me."

Kat forced a laugh. "Come on, David. That's ridiculous." She turned to Sixrivers. "Tell him, Tommy."

Sixrivers' eyes were locked with Brunelle's "That's ridiculous," he said flatly.

"See?" Kat said, her voice cracking slightly. "It's ridiculous."

"But it's true," Brunelle said.

Kat looked at Sixrivers.

"Yep," Sixrivers said. "But it's true."

Then he looked at Kat. "Damn it, Kat. You weren't supposed to be here. This would have ended it."

"Ended what?" she asked.

"The blood feud," Brunelle answered. "I get that now. You stabbed Quilcene's cousin. How'd you get the knife?"

"I didn't. Not for Bobby." Sixrivers waved the knife in his hand. "I used this one. Same size, roughly. But when I heard there'd been some confusion up there and you thought Quilcene's antique knife had gone missing, I got an idea. I went there and pretended to drop off property on a nonexistent case. When they told me there was no such case, I talked them into letting me look through the property room. I am a detective after all."

Brunelle recalled Chen's text.
Knife theft WAS an inside job. Sort of.

"Then I planted it in your hotel room," Sixrivers said. "I figured getting arrested would finally scare you away. But I guess you're just too stupid."

"I guess so," Brunelle agreed. "'Cause I still don't understand why."

"Traver was a piece of shit," Sixrivers said. "He deserved to die, and you know it. When Johnny told me what Traver had done, it didn't take long to locate him up in Seattle, but Seattle P.D. wouldn't let me touch him. They said he was too valuable as an informant."

"Yeah, that was pretty shitty," Brunelle agreed. Kat remained silent, eyes wide.

"Yeah, real shitty," Sixrivers replied. "And my boss told me to stop wasting time on a case we couldn't prove. So I let Johnny know where Traver was and reminded him ballistics could be traced." Sixrivers shook his head. "But the dumb ass left the knife behind. Who leaves the fucking knife behind?"

"It got stuck in a rib," Kat explained reflexively.

Sixrivers nodded, then surrendered a sad smile. "Thanks. But it meant he got caught. And if he got caught, he'd talk. Eventually. I thought he would have thrown me under the bus right away, but I'll give the kid credit. He kept his mouth shut. Then that hotshot lawyer came up with the blood revenge defense and I got an idea."

"What idea, Tommy?" Kat asked. Brunelle had already figured it out.

"If Johnny walked," Sixrivers explained, "he'd have no reason to talk. So why not give his lawyer's bullshit theory some real support. And I got to take out a couple of gang members as a bonus."

"But what about Freddy?" Kat demanded.

"Yeah." Sixrivers shrugged. "That was too bad. Cost of doing business."

"Doing business?" Kat yelled. "You fucking killed him."

"No," he replied as he transferred the knife to his left hand and picked Quilcene's gun off the floor. "Hernandez killed him."

"And you killed Hernandez," Brunelle realized. "And now Quilcene. No more witnesses."

"Almost no more witnesses," Sixrivers corrected. He reached down and pulled Quilcene's gun out from under the body. "It's a shame I couldn't stop Quilcene from killing you two. But don't worry, I got here right after he shot you and we struggled. I ended up stabbing him in the back with his own knife."

He leveled Qulicene's gun at Brunelle's chest. "Goodbye, Brunelle. You should've stayed off the reservation."

A shot rang out.

"No!" screamed Kat.

Brunelle grabbed his chest. But there was no gunshot wound. No pain. He looked at Sixrivers. He was too close to have missed.

Sixrivers teetered, then crumpled forward onto Quilcene's body, blood staining the center of his back where he'd been shot.

Detective Mulholland raised his cell phone to his ear as he stepped into the light of the bedroom. "They're okay, Larry. We got here just in time. They're okay."

Epilogue

Brunelle walked into the coffee shop again. He didn't know the address; he couldn't even remember its name. He'd had to start at Talon's office and retrace his steps. The café held the same late afternoon atmosphere. Dishes clinking, espresso steaming, commuters in line to fuel up for their drives home. His date waited at the same table he'd sat at before. When he approached, she looked up.

"Hello, Mr. Brunelle," Kat said. "So nice to see you again."

He tipped his head to her and sat down. "The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Anderson."

"Maybe later," she joked. "For now, let's stick to coffee."

Brunelle laughed and looked around. "So why did you insist on this place? Were you down here for something else?"

"No," Kat smiled. "I'm claiming it. I don't want you to have a place you met another woman while standing me up. Now this is the place you and I had coffee after you met another woman here while standing me up."

Brunelle nodded. "I wondered why you wouldn't tell me over the phone. Very logical. As well as manipulative and controlling."

"Takes one to know one." She pulled her purse up off the floor and set it on the table. "Do you like my new purse?"

Brunelle appraised it. It was nice enough. "Sure."

"I got it for us," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." She opened it and let him peer inside. He could see the butt of a gun sticking out of a built in holster.

"Wow."

"Apparently," Kat observed as she closed the purse again, "if we're going to date, I need to be armed. Glock G17. Nine millimeter. With polygonal rifling, so it's almost impossible to trace."

"Impossible to trace?" Brunelle leaned back slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"David, I'm a scientist. I don't threaten, I explain."

He smiled. "I thought lawyers explained things."

"No, lawyers lie. But I know that now, and I'm armed, so we're good."

Brunelle extended his hand across the table. "Yeah? We're good?"

Kat smiled and took his hand. "Yes. We're good."

THE END