Page 37 of Lake's Legacy

“Find something?” I ask him.

“Maybe. There is a bunch of information about the tribe on this drive. I’m just not sure what it all means.”

“Let me take a look,” Toff offers, sitting next to Pirate and sliding the laptop over. He reads for a few minutes before glancing at me, then Antoine.

“Coyote has put together his case to take to the BIA. Bureau of Indian Affairs,” he clarifies. “To achieve recognition, the tribe has to meet seven criteria. He has them all mapped out on this drive. He has the name of a lawyer based in New Orleans, and he is working with her on this. Rey Montague. We need to talk to her. In five days, Coyote has a calendar entry for a meeting with the Office of Federal Acknowledgement to present the completed petition.”

“I didn’t realize he was so close,” Solon mutters. “Your father’s been working on this for most of his life. He wants the recognition to be the legacy he leaves behind. Having it would protect the tribe and our land.”

“Which is critical, considering the other document I found on the drive,” Pirate continues. “A request to perform a geological survey on the land.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: OLIVIA

“What does that mean?” Annette asks. “What are they looking for?”

“Oil, most likely,” Zip says. “Louisiana is a major producer of oil in this country. They have rigs on and off-shore. BOEM has a map of all the rigs. Pull it up.”

Pirate hits a few keys before turning the laptop so we can all see. Icons representing what I assume are oil rigs fill the screen. There are a few empty areas, the largest being the area surrounding Lake’s tribe.

“Coyote’s trying to keep them from drilling on our land,” Toff says.

“Or making sure the tribe keeps the rights to the oil,” Hex adds.

Toff reels back in anger. “Dad wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Lake asks. “It would mean more money for the tribe.”

“But it would destroy our way of life. Coyote would never allow that to happen, no matter how much money it brought in. It would be a betrayal to the tribe and our ancestors.”

Lake nods before clasping Toff on the back. “You’re right. But that doesn’t mean others won’t think differently.”

“You think this is why someone attacked Coyote?” I ask. “Because he’s trying to protect the land?”

Lake nods. “It makes the most sense. The skinheads said someone was paying them to drive the tribe off the land. Whoever it is either has the money to pay them or expects to come into money. Driving the tribe off the land would allow an oil company to come in and take what they want. These assholes have been threatening the tribe, but no one shows signs of leaving. Whoever is paying them might be getting desperate.”

“You think a stranger came into town and attacked Coyote?” Toff asks, shaking his head. “No fucking way. Someone would have seen a stranger or an unknown vehicle. Remember, the tribe was out looking for Annette and Olivia. Someone would have seen something and called us.”

“You think a member of the tribe attacked Coyote?” Dr. Solon asks.

Toff nods slowly. “Whoever attacked Coyote stabbed him in the back. Coyote wouldn’t turn his back on a stranger. But a friend? A member of the tribe?”

I look at Lake and see the resignation. He’d already considered the possibility. Why hadn’t he said anything? In addition to resignation, I see sadness. Following his gaze, I look at Toff. He’s the reason. Lake was trying to protect Toff from realizing a member of the tribe attacked their father. Taking Lake’s hand, I squeeze it. I’m trying to offer him some comfort.

Lake is mentally and physically strong. His confidence and competence run deep. His shoulders are broad, and I know he thinks he can carry the world's weight on them. But not even Atlas himself could support the pressure Lake is under. He glances at me and smiles, but the smile remains sad. Feeling guilty about my meltdown in the parking lot, I sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around those broad shoulders and nuzzling his neck.

“We’re going to get through this,” I whisper. “You aren’t alone. Toff needs to face the facts. You can’t protect him from the truth. Let us help you. All of us. We’re all on your side.”

Lake kisses the top of my head.

Hearing a noise, I glance over Lake’s shoulder to see a doctor approaching us. I pat Lake’s chest before climbing off his lap.

“Dr. Martinez,” Dr. Solon calls out in greeting.

“Peridot family?” Dr. Martinez asks—his attention on Lake, who nods.

“I’m his son, Lake, my brother, Two-Feathers. How is he?”

“He’s stable. We were able to repair the damage done by the knife and replace the blood he lost. He’s recovering, and we’ll move him into a room in a few hours. You can see him if you’d like. He hasn’t gained consciousness and probably won’t tonight.”

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