Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 by Lori G. Armstrong Page B

instead and attached the holster. A Browning Hi Power made a much bigger fashion statement anyway.
    Two solid raps echoed from my living room.
    I opened the front door to a white bakery box.
    “Chocolate-covered goodies as per milady’s request.”
    I stepped aside and let him in, then shifted the box so I could check him out.
    Darrell Pretty Horses was a pretty man; there was no other way to describe him. His facial features were sharply defi ned, yet ruggedly masculine. High cheekbones, a square jawline, full lips. Not a strand of gray tarnished his coal black ponytail. Th
    ick dark eyebrows
    accentuated soft brown eyes. Even the crow’s feet gave him a distinguished air.
    He whistled. “Julie, my magnifi cent girl, I’ve been such a fool. Run away with me, eh?”
    I kissed him square on the mouth. “You blew your chance years ago, buddy.”
    “Figured as much.”
    “Th
    is way. Coff ee’s on.”
    He lightly grabbed my arm but his gaze was on my belt. “When did you start wearing a gun?”
    125

    “When people started shooting at me. Now I shoot back.”
    His eyes widened and I didn’t bother to hide my smile.
    He tagged along to the kitchen, seating himself at the dinette table as I rounded up plates and cups.
    Darrell tapped a teaspoon on the placemat. “You want to chew my ass fi rst? Or have me check out the artifact?”
    “Chew your ass. Tell me why someone who professes to have been my brother’s friend purposely kept information about him from me?” I sipped my coff ee.
    “Go ahead and justify it, Darrell, because I’m dying to hear your fucking excuses.”
    “If I didn’t like you so much I’d walk out of here after that comment,” he grumbled.
    “Wrong. If you weren’t feeling guilty as hell you would’ve stomped out.”
    Darrell frowned. “Glad I didn’t marry you, winyan .
    You’d have made my life hell.”
    “Flattery will get you a big fat lip. Start talking.”
    “About a year before Ben died, he contacted me because he wanted my opinion on a job he was thinking about taking.”
    “What job?”
    “Working for the Sihasapa Tribal Council.”
    “Obviously he didn’t take it. Ben never worked for them.”
    126

    “Th
    at’s where you’re wrong.”
    My stomach lurched. I calmly shook out a cigarette.
    Lit it and considered him through the smoke. Th e parallels weren’t lost on me. I’d been subjected to smoke and mirrors for years. “What was the job?”
    “Glad-handing, mostly, you know, like a lobbyist?
    Convincing general members of the tribe to vote for the initiative that would allow the Sihasapa Tribal Council to negotiate a gaming compact with the governor.”
    “Leticia’s pet project.”
    “Yeah. I know you didn’t live around here then, but the tribe had been seriously divided on the issue.”
    I inhaled and stared at him.
    “Because of the threat of a state moratorium on all Indian gaming, the Sihasapa Tribal Council knew they’d have one shot with the general membership to convince them to act quickly on the proposal that gaming was the best solution to their fi nancial problems.”
    “Th
    is is where Ben came in?”
    He nodded. “Since Ben and his brother Owen were both so well-liked, Leticia recommended them to the Sihasapa Tribal Council. Th
    e tribal president agreed, with
    the stipulation that his cousin Roland Hawk also was hired to help out.” Darrell scowled in his coff ee cup.
    “Nepotism at its fi nest. Problem was, Owen couldn’t stand Roland.”
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    I hadn’t liked Roland either. He’d always struck me as one of those guys who hid a violent personality beneath a crafty smile. Kind of like my father.
    Kind of like Martinez.
    Damn. I did not have time to stew about that.
    “Leticia didn’t object?”
    “At fi rst. But the rumor was it was a token protest because she and Roland were having lots of private closed door sessions.”
    My mouth dropped open. “No shit? Queen bitch was doing the nasty with a thug like Roland?” Like I had