Murder on the Red Cliff Rez by Mardi Oakley Medawar Read Free Book Online

leaned in the doorway. The attorney’s office wasn’t large. A bulky wooden desk, shoved tight against the left wall, still managed to take up most of the floor space. Because it was an end office, two windows were set into the right wall. Behind the desk was a freestanding bookcase jammed with law books and bound tribal treaties, each volume imprinted with the relevant years, beginning with the late 1700s and advancing steadily onward. To the side of the book cabinet
and fixed to the bare cream-colored wall with pushpins was a large map of Red Cliff. Lastly, half hidden by the bulk of the desk, lying facedown and crumpled on the floor like a pile of discarded clothing, was the mortal coil of Judah Boiseneau.
    A strong coppery odor wafted out to David as he silently studied the large stain on the new carpet that surrounded the dead man’s head like a black halo. The stain pattern told David that death had not been immediate. The bullet had turned Jud into vegetable instantly, but some part of his brain had survived a second or two, keeping the heart muscle pumping following the collapse to the floor. He asked his officers in a half whisper, “You guys keeping everybody out of here?”
    â€œWe’ve been trying,” Melvin replied. “But trying to stop the Navajo was like trying to stop a windstorm. He just went on in. He was stomping all over the place when Perry finally ordered his fat butt out.”
    Great, David thought angrily. Keeping this crime scene intact was about as simple as hitting the moon with a load of buckshot. David vented his frustration on the doctor. “And how about you, Rick? Did you wear gloves the entire time you were doin’ your thing?”
    â€œNo. Not until I actually worked on the body.”
    David felt his blood pressure rising. “Why not?”
    â€œI guess because as a general rule, dead guys aren’t all that fussy about germs.”
    Doc Ricky was beginning to irritate the living fire out of David. Shoving the doctor forward he said sourly, “Okay, it’s show-and-tell time. I want you to point to anything you might have touched before you started in on Jud.”
    â€œHow the hell am I suppose to remember that?” Ricky cried.

    â€œYou wanna be a suspect?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen if I were you, I’d get to remembering all your touchy, feely places pretty damn fast.”
    â€œAhh, shit!”
    Â 
    Aggie Primeaux did more talking than requested. Well, she’d had to. The school secretary was a cousin, and when her cousin asked, “What’s going on, Aggie?” the question operated like pressure on a fault line. Aggie dutifully opened up like the San Andreas. Later she was put on hold, waiting while her cousin tracked down the principal. It was a while before the principal came on the line, and Aggie once again said much more than had been requested by Police Chief Lameraux. Alarmed, the elementary school principal hung up, running to search the hallways for Mrs. Boiseneau.
    The first bell for class sounded shrilly, the principal maneuvering his way through waves of children running for their classes. Teachers were closing the classroom doors. The principal quickly motioned to the teachers who happened to notice him to come forward. The three teachers were stunned by the news of Judah Boiseneau’s untimely demise. But not so shocked as to be at a loss for an opinion.
    â€œI knew something like this was going to happen,” one said sharply. “I just thought it would be him shooting her.”
    The principal was caught off balance by the acerbic remark. “Are you talking about Mrs. Boiseneau?”
    The three women looked at each other; then, as if reluctant, they nodded.
    The principal gasped sharply. “Why on earth would any of you think something so terrible?”

    The teachers looked astonished. Finally, one put voice to the astonishment. “You mean … you don’t