Title: NOT EXACTLY BFF's
Author: Ramos
Rating: PG-13 for language (c'mon, it's Vic!)
Disclaimer: Don't own Walt Longmire. Takes place after 'Harvest' but veers off before 'Counting Coup.'
Author's note: Another favorite Vic line - "Sometimes the way your husband chews his oatmeal is motive enough." #LongLiveLongmire!
~Chapter 14~
"Ruby, I'm gonna need two arrest warrants," Walt declared the moment he returned to the station.
At her desk, the stalwart receptionist pulled her ever-present block of post-its towards her and grabbed a pen. "Who're they for?"
"Jacob Nighthorse and David Ridges," he replied as he hung up his hat and headed for his office. Branch did the same, the two of them moving in sync for the first time in months.
Ferg stood up nervously. "I did what you said - called the clinic over at the Rez, and the hospital, and the nearest drugstores around, but nobody's seen anybody come in with a gunshot wound. So… is Ridges really still alive?"
Walt paused long enough to answer. "He's alive, alright. He just attacked Vic and Cady over at the Rosky place and put Vic in the hospital."
"Is Cady okay?"
Branch gave him a look, remembering that Ferg had harbored a secret, unrequited crush on Cady for a very long time. "Cady's fine," he reassured his fellow deputy. "Vic got beat up a bit, but she's more pissed than anything."
"So, why are we arresting Nighthorse?"
"Aiding and abetting, for starters," Walt answered, having come back out of his office with the files he had on Nighthorse and the open case on Hector White Buffalo's murder. "He helped Ridges fake a suicide, so we can add making a false statement. There's a half-dozen things I'd like to pin on him, but I can't prove much more than this."
He looked at Ferg again, as if registering his presence for the first time. "Aren't you supposed to be off today?"
"Yeah," Ferg answered with a diffident shrug. "But I figured you all could use the help."
"You're not wrong," Walt replied. "Appreciate it." His words had been simple and unadorned, but Ferg's sturdy shoulders squared with the acknowledgement of his contribution.
"You really figure Nighthorse or Ridges had something to do with your wife's death?" Branch asked. "I thought you ruled them out?"
"Nighthorse is in this up to his hundred dollar haircut. If the timing wasn't off, he'd be in my jail already."
"Right," Ferg agreed, nodding. "If we could prove he knew Malachi Strand or Ridges before your wife was killed, it wouldn't be hard to connect him to what happened in Denver."
Branch scratched his lip, frowning. "You're sure Nighthorse didn't show up here until afterwards?"
"Cady looked it up. That injunction was lifted February, and Malachi Strand was convicted in March. Martha died in late May." Walt shook his head minutely, his frustration evident. "But the Tribal Council didn't make that deal with Nighthorse until August or September, and construction didn't start up again for another month or so after that."
Branch didn't answer. Instead, his head tilted back on his neck, his eyes lost in some faraway contemplation. A moment later his head rolled towards Ferg, pinning him with a thoughtful look.
"What?" Ferg asked self-consciously.
"Ferg, my dad and yours are in the same business."
"Yeah," Ferg scoffed. "Your father's the biggest developer in the county. He could buy my dad out with his pocket change."
"Maybe. But we both know that it takes a while for them to work out deals, right?"
"Right."
"The bigger the job, the longer it takes to nail down the details. And nobody talks about a big job until all the paperwork is signed."
Ferg nodded in agreement, and then his nodding ceased as he caught Branch's point, and his eyes grew wide. "A deal that big – it would be a lot of negotiating."
"What are you saying?" Walt asked, having also followed their train of thought. "You think Nighthorse could have been here in Absaroka earlier than we thought?"
"That's a multi-million dollar project, Walt. I heard Jacob brought in a truckload of his own financing as well. There's no way someone like him would have committed that kind of money unless he was sure it would pay off, and it probably took months to negotiate that agreement."
"Once that first developer took off with the cash he stole, the tribal council would have been desperate to find a way to get their money out of that project," Ferg added, with the experience of watching his father's business hit more than a few cash-strapped moments.
"So Nighthorse either hears about the injunction getting lifted, or more likely, someone on the Tribal Council called him in," Branch speculated. "Either way, he slips into town to start negotiations. He gets up to speed on the project so far, including any problems they've been having – like that injunction."
"The injunction was overturned by then," Ferg reminded them. "Would it matter anymore?"
"It still matters, somehow," Walt concluded thoughtfully.
"I'd say so," Branch agreed. "Whatever this was all about, it has somebody scared enough to want to permanently remove the opposition to the casino. That means taking out the leaders of the opposition, or distracting anyone who might make trouble." He looked directly at Walt. "Your wife. You. Henry too, probably."
"Why is that so important?" Walt asked. "That casino's not even half built, yet."
"That's just it, Walt. Construction delays cost money. Lots of money."
"Heck, if my dad's schedule gets off by even a few days, because of weather or something, it can eat all the profit out of a job," Ferg added. "This thing is months – years – behind schedule."
"They're probably so deep in the red ink, they're swimming in it." Branch said. "We're talking six, seven figures by now."
"That's real motive," Ferg said, voicing what they were all thinking. Martha Longmire had died because of that casino.
Branch gave Walt an assessing glance. "So do we still arrest Nighthorse? We don't have any real proof, and moving too soon could let him know we're on to him."
Walt considered it for a moment. "You give that hair over for DNA?"
"Yeah, but it'll be at least 72 hours before we get a result, and that's if Weston's lab has the time."
"Vic and Cady are credible witnesses, but bias could still be considered a factor." He shifted his weight, thinking. "All right. We go after Nighthorse for helping Ridges –whatever we can think of as long as it's connected to Ridges' faking his death. I want him to think we're after his buddy. But it gives me what I need to get his phone records, and maybe even his financials."
By eight o'clock that night, Jacob Nighthorse was staring at Walt, Branch, and Ferg through the iron bars of the cell nearest Ferg's desk. To say he was not happy was an understatement, and his chiseled features were tight with displeasure. His former protégé was ignoring him, which only served to further irritate the powerful businessman.
"Connolly. You owe me," he reminded the younger man in a low growl.
"Owe you? For what? Campaign contributions with more strings than I can count?" Branch moved closer to the jail cell, regarding his defunct campaign manager. "If I had been elected, you'd have held that over my head for years. Kinda makes me glad I lost, actually."
He tucked his thumbs into his belt, giving Jacob a hard look. "I'm my own man, Jacob. And I warned you about Ridges. Don't blame me because you protected a criminal and it's come back to bite you in the ass."
Jacob looked past the tall deputy towards Walt. "Are you enjoying this, Sheriff?"
"Nope," Walt replied as he and Ferg went over their paperwork for Nighthorse's arrest. "Your lawyer is on the way, Jacob. Just sit down, try not to get too worked up. I hear the stress is bad for men like you, in your high-dollar jobs."
His jaw clenched, but neither Walt nor Branch gave any inkling of sympathy. Finally his common sense won out over his pride. "What if I made you a deal?"
"What kind of deal?" Walt replied absently, although the pen in his fingers stilled.
Twenty minutes later they had ironed out the details, and Jacob's lawyer had arrived and signed off on the agreement. Branch led Jacob and the lawyer, an attractive woman in her thirties, towards the door. Despite Jacob's posturing, he kept his expression stoic and his words short. Walt followed up behind them, and had one last warning.
"Jacob, I'll have solid DNA evidence that David Ridges is alive within 72 hours. If you don't want to me to file those charges on making a false statement, obstruction of justice and anything else I can think of, you'd better hope Ridges contacts you."
"My client will cooperate fully," the lawyer assured them, although she seemed to be the only one who believed those words. "Mr. Nighthorse will inform you of any communications he has with David Ridges."
"You said your deputy shot him," Nighthorse said pensively. "If he's hurt, he will probably call me for assistance, or a medicine woman I know. As soon as I hear from him, I'll let you know where he is."
"You do that," Walt told him. "Because if you don't, I know this stretch of I-25 that hasn't seen a road crew in a couple of years."
Nighthorse looked unimpressed with the threat of picking up trash as community service, but refrained from further comment as he and his lawyer made their way across the foyer and down the stairs. Branch followed, shutting and locking the door behind them.
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," he added as he took the stairs back up, two at a time.
"You really think this will help flush out Ridges?" he asked as he returned to the station proper.
"Obstruction and making false statements isn't gonna get Jacob more than a slap on the wrist. I want something solid on Nighthorse, and I need Ridges – alive – to get it. But if Jacob thinks we're getting too close to the truth, he'll probably disappear, and do a better job of it than Ridges did."
"So we wait?"
"We wait." He turned and regarded his other deputy. "Ferg, you gonna take your time off tomorrow?"
"I can stay on, what with Vic out and all," the younger man offered.
"Nah, you've earned some time off. You've worked hard these last few weeks. Enjoy it."
"You'll call me if you need me, right?"
"Sure thing," Walt agreed. "Knowing Vic, she'll be here in the morning. Even if she's not, Branch and I can handle things."