Tribal Court (10 page)

Chapter 18

Brunelle sat in Sixrivers' cramped office in the corner of the precinct. He knew he wasn't under arrest, but he also knew he wasn't free to go. Sixrivers was overseeing the collection of the body, then he needed to speak with the last person to see Freddy alive: Brunelle.

He knew he was a witness.

He knew he might be a suspect.

He knew he should lawyer up.

It was the smart thing to do. But it wasn't right the thing to do. He hadn't known Freddy long, but he considered him a friend. And his friend had just been murdered.

"Mr. Brunelle," Sixrivers finally stepped into his office. "Thank you for waiting so patiently."

The detective sat down heavily in his desk chair. It had been almost three hours since the shots rang out. Probably about that long since Sixrivers was about to clock out for the day. He looked tired. It reminded Brunelle that he felt exhausted too. It had been a long, terrible, horrible day. The ass-kicking by Talon seemed like eons ago.

Sixrivers opened his desk drawer and pulled out two things: a digital recorder and a
Miranda
advisement form. "Just a formality," he assured.

"Sure." Brunelle forced a half-smile.

Sixrivers filled out the top half of the form with the case information, Brunelle's name, date and time, etc. When he finished, he looked up like he'd just realized something.

"Are you even going to talk?" he asked.

Brunelle sighed deeply. "Yeah, I'm going to talk."

Sixrivers paused for a moment, thoughts hidden behind his dark eyes, then he reached out and turned on the recorder. "Good."

He pushed it between them. "This is Detective Thomas Sixrivers of the Duwallup Tribal Police Department. The time is now nineteen-fifty-two hours. This is the statement of David Brunelle. Mr. Brunelle, you have the right to remain silent…"

Sixrivers read each of the rights on the form into the recorder, even though they both knew them by heart. When he'd finished, Brunelle signed the form and the interrogation could begin.

Brunelle wondered whether Sixrivers might employ some of the same psychological techniques he'd seen Chen and other detectives use on suspects. Apparently not.

"Okay, Mr. Brunelle. Why don't you just tell me everything you know?"

So Brunelle explained it all. The initial murder of George Traver. The reasons Quilcene did it. The defense Talon put forward. Freddy checking the knife out of property. The murder of Quilcene's cousin. Freddy's argument in court. His comments at the casino. Brunelle confronting him. And ending with the gunfire that took Freddy's life. When he finished, Sixrivers just stared at him, chiseled chin on thick fist.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he finally asked.

Brunelle was taken aback. He could feel his face flushing. "No, I'm dead serious. That's exactly what happened."

Sixrivers pursed his lips into a disapproving frown. "The witnesses in the parking lot make it sound like a drive-by of the police station by the NGBs. They observed multiple males in the car, flashing gang signs as they drove away. McCloud just stepped outside at the exact wrong time."

Brunelle shook his head. "No, I'm telling you. Traver molested Quilcene's niece. Quilcene killed Traver. Freddy killed Quilcene's cousin. Now Quilcene's gang has murdered Freddy. Hell, Quilcene's out on home detention. He probably was the shooter."

Sixrivers leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"I know it sounds crazy," Brunelle admitted, "but Freddy practically confessed to it in open court this morning. And if I could figure it out, Quilcene sure as hell could have."

Sixrivers tapped his chin for several seconds. Then he leaned forward and turned off the recorder.

"I think we're done," he announced.

Brunelle looked Sixrivers in the eye. "You're not going to follow up on this, are you?"

The detective met his gaze, then stood up. "I said we're done. You can go now, Mr. Brunelle."

Brunelle stood up too. "I'm telling you—"

"Goodbye, Mr. Brunelle," Sixrivers interrupted. "You really don't belong here. Maybe you should go back up to Seattle and let someone else worry about Quilcene."

Brunelle was about to argue, then he remembered that's all he'd wanted since Duncan had first explained the arrangement to him. Maybe he could finally get his wish.

Chapter 19

"No."

Duncan
was firm. The morning sun shone across his desk, giving him an aura of divine righteousness as he denied Brunelle's plea to get off the case.

"I'm sorry, Dave, but no way. This is your case. You know how big a deal this is. Everybody will be watching this trial. I can't give it to just anyone, especially not at this late juncture. I'm counting on you."

Brunelle threw his hands up at the 'I'm counting on you' card. "Come on, Matt. This thing has spun totally out of control. I'm a witness to two murders, for Christ's sake."

"Eh, not really," Duncan replied. "You didn't actually see the murders. You just came up afterward."

"Immediately afterward," Brunelle argued.

"Just a difference in timing," Duncan countered. "You came up on the first murder too, just a lot later."

"I came up on Traver's murder because Chen called me at one in the fucking morning. These two happened while I was right there. I heard the gunshots."

Duncan
paused. "I thought Quilcene's cousin was stabbed."

Brunelle pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not really the point. I heard Quilcene's cousin scream. I watched Freddy's killer speed away."

"Good," Duncan assured evenly. "I'm sure you'll be a great witness for the Pierce County Prosecutor's Office, if they ever catch who did it. But right now, I need you to be a great prosecutor for the King County Prosecutor's Office."

Brunelle looked down and ran his hands through his hair, but wasn't sure what to say.

"Just stay focused," Duncan advised. "Those other murders are just like the other cases in your file cabinet. Unrelated homicides. Focus on what's in front of you."

Brunelle looked up. "But what if they're not unrelated?"

Duncan
's face screwed up into a frown. "What do you mean? A gang member with a hundred enemies, and a lawyer in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course they're unrelated."

Brunelle frowned. "I don't know, Matt. Traver had no family. Freddy said the blood feud could continue if someone else took up the cause. What if Freddy really did take it up? What if he really did stab Quilcene's cousin? That would explain why he was killed."

Duncan
returned Brunelle's frown. "I don't buy it, Dave. But so what? By the time the cops unravel it, you'll be done with the Quilcene trial."

"So what?" Brunelle complained. "So I'm the other prosecutor. If Freddy took up the feud for our victim, then I'm pretty sure I'm on Team George too."

Duncan
stared at Brunelle for several seconds. "That's crazy, Dave."

"I know, I know. But this whole damn thing is crazy."

Duncan
nodded. "Okay, fine. You're Team George. So what?"

"So I'm in the goddamn blood feud now, that's what."

"Good," Duncan grinned.

"Good?" Brunelle shook his head at Duncan. "What's good about that?"

"Well, they made the last move," Duncan explained. "As long as you don't kill anyone on their team, you should be fine."

Brunelle thought about it for a moment, then started nodding. "Okay, yeah. That makes sense."

"Unless another one of Quilcene's family happens to get offed in random gang violence and they think you did it."

Brunelle's shoulders dropped. "Oh, great. What do I do if that happens.?"

Duncan
smiled darkly. "Get co-counsel."

Brunelle shook his head. "Great. Thanks, Matt. Very helpful."

He stood up and headed for the door.

"Hey, Dave?" Duncan called out after him.

Brunelle turned around. "Yeah?"

"Maybe the best cure for Team George is a Team Dave."

Brunelle narrowed his eyes, not understanding.

"It's okay to have people on your team, Dave," Duncan explained. "You've got lots of friends. Lean on them if you have to."

Brunelle considered for a moment. "Okay, Matt. Thanks." Then he turned and walked out, giving the doorframe a light punch as he passed.

Chapter 20

Kat's office was the last one on the left. Just off the examining room. Brunelle could never understand how she could sit at a desk so close to the stench of death. He supposed she must not even notice it any more.

"Knock, knock," he said as he tapped on her doorframe. "Surprise."

She looked up from her computer and took in the sight of him. Her expression was difficult to decipher. Either she was happy to see him then tried to hide it, or she was happy to see him then changed her mind.

"Oh. It's you." She turned back to her screen. "Who let you in?"

"Jody," Brunelle replied. "Homicide prosecutors get waved right in."

"Pity," Kat said without looking at him. "They should be more careful."

Brunelle shifted his weight. "Look." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. This case has gotten under my skin and, um, well: sorry."

Kat finally looked away from her monitor. She spun in her seat to fully face him. "Sorry, huh? Sorry for what?"

There was an unmistakable edge to her voice.

"Um," Brunelle started. "Sorry it seemed like I was using you to review autopsy reports for me the other night."

Kat nodded. "Uh huh." She pursed her lips. "Seemed like?"

Brunelle frowned. "Right." He cast his eyes downward. "I'm sorry I
did
use you to review autopsy reports for me the other night."

Kat offered another small nod. Then she just sat there. After a few moments, she spread her hands. "Anything else?"

"Uh, well," Brunelle stammered, "like I said, this case has really gotten to me and—"

"No, dumbass," Kat interrupted. "Anything else you're sorry for?"

"Uh…." Brunelle felt a dump of adrenaline. This was going deeper than he'd planned. "I'm sorry I did it over dinner?" he tried. "When we were supposed to be having a date."

Kat's eyes narrowed. "No, not that. Jesus, David…" She crossed her arms and shook her head. "How about you're sorry you haven't called me for four months? How about you're sorry you made me think we had something special when I guess we really didn't? Or, if we did, then how about you're sorry you didn't follow up on it? How about you're sorry you made me think I was just another woman you charmed to get whatever it was you wanted? How about you're sorry for not returning my calls, or replying to my emails, or acknowledging me at all? Not even a curt, rude, 'Busy. Will call soon.' How about you're sorry for leaving it to me to explain to my daughter why this really great guy suddenly disappeared? How about you're sorry for being a complete asshole and treating me like garbage? How about that?"

Brunelle was dumbstruck. The adrenaline dump proceeded in earnest and his mind raced to catch up with his feelings. He just stood there.

"Um," he said finally. "Yeah, that. Sorry about all that too."

Kat sneered and shook her head again. "Wow. Really? That's the best you can do? 'Sorry for all that too'? Damn it, David, I thought you were better than that. I guess not."

She turned back to her work.

Brunelle ran a hand over his head. "Uh, look. I— Um…" He caught himself and took a deep breath. "I was scared."

Kat scoffed. "Scared?" she repeated derisively without looking back at him. "Well, I'm sorry that needy Miss Kat scared little David."

"No, no. Not scared by you. For you." When Kat still didn't look at him, he added, "And Lizzy."

That had the desired effect. Kat turned to glare at him. "Lizzy?"

Brunelle finally stepped all the way into the office and sat in the one plastic guest chair Kat had managed to jam into the closet-like space. "Look," he said, gazing down. "You're an M.E. You chop up bodies that are already dead and testify about what killed them. If it weren't for evidence rules, I wouldn't even need you to testify about that. Any moron knows that when you get shot in the head three times, you die. But I can't argue that in closing unless a witness actually says it out loud. And only an expert can give an opinion as to cause of death. So fine, I call you, you get out of this cheery office for an afternoon, and that's the end of it for you."

He paused and looked at her.

"At least, that's supposed to be the end of it. But I don't deal with dead bodies. I deal with live bodies. Defendants. Murder defendants, who have no qualms about making more dead bodies.

"After out last case together, I realized I didn't understand that well enough. I don't have kids. You do. Believe me, there are plenty of times I picked up the phone to call you. Not a night went by that I didn't want to drive over to your place. But I thought of Lizzy and I just couldn't do it."

Kat listened expressionless. She stared at him for a few more seconds, her expression still inscrutable. "You expect me to believe that?"

Brunelle shrugged. "I don't know. Believe it or don't. It's the truth."

Another few seconds of Kat staring at him. Finally, she said, "Really?"

Brunelle ventured a tentative smile. "Really. I'm sorry, Kat. I'm sorry I made you feel like I wasn't interested, or that you weren't worth it. I just—"

"You should have told me, David," Kat said softly. "You can talk to me, you know. I have ears."

Brunelle smiled more fully. "And what lovely ears they are."

Kat crossed her arms. "Is this the part where you try to charm me?"

Brunelle allowed himself a small laugh. "No, this is the part were I use flattery to deflect the conversation from deep emotional topics I'm not comfortable discussing."

Kat surrendered her own laugh. "Bravo, sir."

Brunelle affected a bow. "Thank you, milady."

Kat's mouth twisted into a reluctant frown, but her eyes softened. "So we're okay?"

Brunelle nodded. "Yeah, we're okay. But I'm going to worry. That's just going to have to be a part of it."

"Good." Kat smiled.

"Good?" Brunelle cocked his head.

"Yes, good." Her smile broadened. "Worrying means you care."

"I worry, therefore I care," Brunelle said. "Very Cartesian."

Kat laughed. "'Cartesian'? Wow. Huge word."

Brunelle flashed a grin. "This is the part where I try to impress you with my intellect in order to avoid deep emotional topics I'm not comfortable discussing."

Kat shook her head. "Okay, okay, Mr. Sensitive. I won't get greedy. That was more of a heartfelt apology than I even thought you were capable of."

Brunelle lowered his eyebrows. "Thanks. I think."

"So, shall we try for dinner again?" Kat asked. "Just you and me and no autopsy reports on smartphones?"

"Sounds good," Brunelle was quick to answer. "This Saturday?"

"Make it Friday," Kat replied.

"Why?"

"Because I said so," Kat purred. "You're not in charge, David. Get used to it."

Brunelle rubbed his chin. "Okay. Whatever you say, boss. Dinner. Friday. I'll pick you up at six."

"Five-thirty."

Brunelle grimaced, but it slipped quickly into a true smile as he met her eyes. "Sure, boss. Five-thirty. See you then."

"See you then," Kat confirmed.

Brunelle started to walk out when Kat added, "David?"

He turned back. "Yeah?"

She shrugged and smiled. She had the best smile. "Thanks for stopping by."

Brunelle smiled back. "No problem. Glad I did. See you Friday."

And as he walked down the hallway, he patted himself on the back for not asking Kat to pull strings to get Freddy's autopsy report. That would have ruined it.

He just had to figure out how ask it on Friday.