Longmire
Righting an Old Wrong
Chapter 1
(Author's note: I am a big fan of Longmire, both book and television forms. My brain has ben looking for just the right story and I think I found it. Let me know what you think.)
With the way things have been, it's not often that I get a phone call from the Tribal Police. Especially not with them requesting help from me and my office. Yet, here I was, hanging up my phone with just that situation.
"Ruby" I yelled, ignoring the intercom that I was supposed to be using. "I need who ever's available. Dead body out by the TransCom oil line."
My intercom was blinking at me, so I picked it up. "So why is Officer Mathias calling us about it? She asked.
"The deceased is a Cheyenne kid. Don't know much more. Mathias wants us to work with him on this."
Ruby snorted. "That's a first."
Mathias and a few of his men met me at the site. Vic and the Ferg were able to join me. The boy was high school age. Mathias identified him as Victor Young Dog, a junior over at the reservation high school. They had no idea why he was out there. The location was several miles from the Res. He had been shot twice. Execution style, which is not common out here. The blood indicated that he had been shot and died at the location, probably late the previous day. Since we were working together for now, Mathias agreed that I could transport him to Durant to have an autopsy done. He also agreed that I could come onto the Reservation to interview. We both agreed to share information.
I decided to start on the Res. talking to people that knew Victor. Mathias was going to talk to his family to see what he could find out. I headed over to the school. The principal was shocked about the loss of Victor. He didn't know the deceased that well, so he sent me to talk to his history teacher, Mrs. Baker.
Molly Baker was outside with her archery team. It was her second year with us. She had come out from California as a divorcee trying to put her life back together. To almost everyone's surprise, she had fit in. So many of the white Reservation teachers couldn't handle life here.
The news of Victor's death had preceded me. Molly was upset about it. She had known our victim and was able to give us names of his friends. She said he was a mediocre student, but a good kid. She didn't know why Victor was found out by the oil line.
Meanwhile, back in Durant, the doctor started the autopsy. I sent Vic and the Ferg over to TransCom after they finished processing the murder site. It was pretty clear it was murder. I just didn't know what Victor was doing clear out there. Or who had killed him.
Sometimes unraveling a murder case takes time. This was one of those. Within a few days we had a list of the TransCon employees who had been at work in the area. We also knew what caliber gun has killed Victor Young Dog. Mathias was getting pressure from the family, so we were doing our research as fast as we could.
We got a break when we found out that Victor and a few of his friends were doing some under the table work for one of the TransCon supervisors. That supervisor talked about some trouble between his illegal employees (underage) and another supervisor.
The other supervisor was named Brent Rogers. We brought him into Durant. A check of his records showed he had been in some trouble out in CA (mostly drugs), but had been clean since leaving there. He was carrying a gun that matched the caliber of the murder weapon. I had Vic run the ballistics and it was a match. I read Mr. Rogers his rights and placed him in a cell.
That should have been case closed. For some reason, murder often isn't clean or even sensible. Molly Baker lived in town and was over at the Busy Bee getting some supper when we called over there to ask for a take out order. Since Molly knows all of us, she agreed to bring the order over before going home herself.
I didn't plan on having Molly talk to the prisoner, especially since he was accused of killing one of her students. But she overheard Vic say his name and stopped dead in her tracks. "Brent Rogers?" she asked. "He isn't originally from Southern California is he?"
"Yes he is" I responded. "Do you know him?"
"I might. Could I see him?"
Well, I couldn't see any reason why not, and maybe it might shine some light on why all this happened. Rogers kept saying he didn't do it. When Molly looked at him it was almost like she was seeing a ghost. "Brent?" she asked.
He turned towards her. "Yeah."
"Dear God, it is you! What the hell are you doing in Wyoming? The last I knew of you was many years ago in Hollywood. I'm Molly. I met you through Jacque and Brian and that bunch."
Brent took a good look at her. "I remember you. How the hell did you end up out here? Last I heard you were married and doing well out in CA."
"I think we both have some stories to share at some point. What's this about you being accused of killing one of my students?"
Rogers looked her square in the eye. "Molly, I didn't kill the Indian kid. I think it's part of what happened to my dad. My brother and I have been investigating that and I think we've gotten too close to the truth."
Clearly there was something else going on here, but as long as she had him talking, it was time for me to step in. "So why were we able to identify your gun as the murder weapon?"
Brent Rogers looked up at me. "Last week I reported my gun as stolen. When it turned up yesterday I figured that whoever took it decided they didn't want to answer to the police. I've been working and didn't have a chance to report it returned."
"Ferg!" I yelled.
"On it, Walt."