Page 39 of Bad to the Bone
Alanna started to speak, then frowned and bit back whatever she was going to say. Considering what might come out of her mouth, Alex was grateful.
A LITTLEafter six, Alex left the Golden Dragon Chinese Restaurant and Carryout with three sacks full of egg rolls, wonton soup, and a variety of chicken, beef, pork, and shrimp dishes. A patrol car was parked in the hotel lot when he arrived, so he wasn’t surprised to see Sam already inside, chatting with Crae.
“Expecting trouble?” he asked as he set the bags down on the counter and started pulling out cartons.
Sam rolled her eyes. “Chief Cowart wants us to work double shifts, but he doesn’t want to pay for it. His solution is to send us home with our squad cars so in case something comes up, we can respond immediately.”
“What is he expecting to happen?” Crae asked, extracting a steaming egg roll from its wax-paper pouch.
“No offense, but ‘you never can tell with the kind of undesirable lowlifes hanging around town lately.’”
“That means us, Crae.” Ricky Lee popped the lid from a plastic tub of soup, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. “The chief was frothing at the mouth in the diner after I got the car for you. Are you living dangerously by associating with us?” he asked Sam.
“Cowart’s never been happy having a woman in the department to begin with. If my scores on the aptitude and physical ability tests hadn’t been as high as they were, and if he’d had any decent male applicants at the time, I wouldn’t have this job. I’ve gotten used to living pretty permanently on his shit list.”
“He’s got to be close to retirement age,” Alex said. “Anyone who replaces him would have to be easier to work with.”
“Sam might think of running for police chief herself one day,” Crae suggested.
“I’m not sure Freeland is ready for a female chief, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“You might be surprised.”
They’d made a sizable dent in the cartons of food when a knock sounded on the hotel room door. Crae glanced at Ricky Lee, who shook his head. “Maybe management wants to complain about the wild party we’re throwing.”
When he opened the door, a tall, handsome Native man wearing a navy blue uniform—not the blue and tan of the Freeland police department—stood on the other side. “Ricky Lee Jennings?” he asked.
“Depends who wants to know.”
The man offered his hand. “To’mo Narcomey, Comanche Nation Office of Criminal Investigations.” When Ricky Lee hesitated to extend his hand in return, he laughed. “That started out down the wrong trail. This isn’t an official visit. Your mother and my mother were sisters. Though after her marriage she… lost touch with her family, you and I aretaka—cousins.”
For the first time since he’d returned to Freeland, Ricky Lee appeared at a loss for words. Finally he took a step back and said, “You’d better come in.”
Officer Narcomey entered the room and paused when he saw the group seated around the counter. “I apologize for interrupting your meal.”
“We’re just finishing up.” Ricky Lee gestured as he introduced. “Crae Adams, Samantha Burchart, Alex Morrison.”
“I’ve seen Officer Burchart’s name on some Freeland police reports. It may be we will work more closely soon in the matter of these drug offenses.”
“I didn’t know the Comanche had their own police force,” Crae observed.
“Since the allotments at the time of the land rush, all tribal lands in Oklahoma were broken up. But the Comanche Nation police have jurisdiction over crimes committed on traditionally Indian lands.” He turned toward Sam. “Cooperation between our departments may more quickly help us find the source of these drugs that have troubled us both.”
“Chief Cowart isn’t known for his interagency cooperation, but if there’s anything I can do to help, feel free to contact me directly.”
“That is good to know, but it is not the reason for my visit.” To’mo handed a package Alex hadn’t noticed he was carrying to Ricky Lee. “My mother passed on recently, and in going through her things, I found this album of photographs from her youth. When I heard that the son ofPiaLomasi—Aunt Lily, as she was after her marriage—had returned, I thought you might wish to have it.”
Ricky Lee paged through the album of mostly black-and-white pictures. “You’ll have to tell me who these people are. I think I recognize my mother, but I’m not sure if it’s her or her sister—your mother.”
“YourPiaOjinka.” To’mo motioned toward the couch, then sat beside Ricky Lee and opened the album on their knees. “There are elders who still remember both our mothers. It will be good for you to come to know your people again.”
