The Rainbow Lake

Chapter 7

Arthur Hastings pulled the brand new Honda Ridgeline to the side of the road in indecision, not for the first time that night. He'd phoned the leader of the team in Maine, and the guy was in fear for his job if he didn't co-operate; he'd also be responsible for all the other team members getting fired too, so that was that taken care of. Now, all he had to worry about was finding that painting. Once he had it, and could anonymously give the big hats in the tribe proof that he had, he'd see how much he could screw out of them for its safe return. If they wouldn't pay up, he'd happily send them photographs of it, first shredded, and then burning. Hell, he might take the money and then send them the photographs anyway. It was what they deserved.

It was a plan shot full of holes, if he thought about it rationally, but if you'd asked Patch Hastings if his father was rational, he'd likely reply bitterly that no-one could accuse him of that. But Arthur was just as foolishly unaware of the existence of the genius team of Sciuto and McGee as Gary Buckley was. He also hadn't any more clue than the young killer, of the implacability of the guy he'd accused just yesterday of some pretty salacious things, in the hallway of the house he was looking down at right now. Or his boss.

Looking at the lights glowing softly through the drapes, he wanted to go down there and bang on the door, swan in and demand to be put up for the night. But hell, that Asian kid would be in the spare room, and there was no way that Arthur Hastings was sleeping on a put-u-up in the living room. Besides, if they suspected anything… hell, no, they weren't that smart… but surprise would be best.

He patted the spare key in his pocket, that Patch had given to his mother in case she ever needed it. Arthur had said, "What's that?" and taken it from her as soon as he got the chance. No point trusting her with it… he'd come back in the morning. He drove the Ridgeline into a stand of trees out of sight, switched off and settled down to sleep.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

"I sorrow for your friend, Naantam," Keshowse said, when all the formalities were over. Shawn was in the kitchen making drinks and sorting out rolls, butter and cheese, and cupcakes and chocolate cookies sent over by his Mom, as soon as she heard her grandfather was having visitors. She was sworn to secrecy, and prayed to the Spirits of the Winds, that this visit would bring an end to the squabbling that was tearing the Council, and her grandfather's peace of mind, apart.

Shawn shot his friend a grin through the kitchen hatch; most of the young people these days were known by everyday names; some of them cherished their Tribal names fiercely, others still feared ridicule. Tam no longer did, and he found himself enjoying the sound of his name as it rolled from his great-uncle's lips.

"Thank you, Uncle," he replied softly. "These friends I have brought will find justice for him."

Keshowse looked gravely at Gibbs. "And you think that justice will be found among the Howakhan?" he asked, lacing his voice with just a hint of disbelief. He had to be seen to believe in his people, in spite of what he knew about some of them. The blue eyed man saw straight through him, and the hint of a smile played in his eyes as well as around his mouth. "Elder," Black Bear, amonsoquath, answered him politely; he had a voice that rumbled in his throat like a soft growl, and Keshowse knew he had named him aright. "We know that you can help us to find the answers to many of our questions."

He explained what was known so far, the man with the hot, intelligent, green eyes sitting on his right filling in details from time to time. He was never still, this one; he burned from the inside with courage and determination. Boketaw; Fire. They were formidable, these two.

When they came to the end of their narrative, the third man, who had waited quietly, spoke for the first time, and Keshowse nodded gravely, in appreciation of the young man's patience.

"Elder," he said, picking up on Black Bear's form of address, "My friends – my colleagues," he corrected himself, and the old man smiled inside – yes, he had been right about this man too – "haven't told you yet the name we've discovered. It isn't a Native American name, but you've heard the reasons why we are asking you." He looked at the Elder with concern; it could be a family member or friend he was about to name. "Does 'Gary' mean anything to you?"

Young Shawn's gasp went with his great-grandfather's wince. The young man's look was apologetic but unshaken. Ningapo Asun; good man, friend of stone, good stone, he twisted it until it fitted. Yes… Friend of Stone. It didn't work in English, where stone wasn't a compliment, but it was the young man. Solid, strong like the other two, and standing strongly beside them, less experienced, but true hearted.

"If it's any of us, it's him," Keshowse told Tim, and before the young man could speak again, he let go of the tiny remnant of disbelief he had been clinging to ever since Tam's phone call. "He respects neither Tribal law, nor traditions; nor the laws of the State."

The young teenager cleared his throat, and looked from the Elder to the blue eyed man. "Onxe, don't be afraid to speak," Keshowse said, and once again there was that flicker of a grin at Tam. If he was proud now of his Howakhan name, then Shawn was too. "He doesn't work," the boy told them. "He doesn't want to, and his temper is too bad for him to hold a job. The only one he listens to is his uncle Trevor, cuz he could throw him out if he didn't." Onxe took a deep breath. "He has a knife – a good knife, that is. He stole it, and a lot of other stuff, from a hunter's camp. He threatens younger kids; tries to get stuff from them. If it's him, I'm glad. Not because he killed someone… but it means he'll be taken away from here."

The boy fell silent, trembling slightly as he recalled unpleasant memories, and the woman rose from her chair and sat him down in it. He began to protest, but she said calmly, "It's fine. Please, sit." She went to perch on the arm of the sofa, next to the green eyed Fire. They exchanged a lazy glance, Fire and Ice. A cool, self-contained, beautiful woman, the Elder thought; unreadable and keeping herself hidden under frost. Orei; Ice. But only in the depths of a killing Winter would ice be solid and deep; and this Ice was on the surface, and would thaw when only she wished, as in her care for the nervous boy. Yet again the old man suppressed a smile. The sofa had two arms, but it was not Black Bear's side she had chosen. Perhaps one day Orei would be melted by Boketaw; perhaps opposites could touch without destroying each other… he prayed that Ice would never freeze that Fire.

Black Bear growled, "Thanks for that, son. But we've no proof right now, and he's not alone... We don't know how many conspired to the murder, or how many are in the land scheme, hell, I'm not even sure if that's a crime, other than the alteration of the document."

"Legal are going to get back to me on that, Boss," Ningapo Asun said promptly. "They're also still trying to get names of individuals who acquired land up there personally, and by what means they did it, but that's probably not really NCIS jurisdiction. I just thought it might help to identify conspirators."

"Because we want them all," Fire said in a predatory tone that Keshowse couldn't help but approve of. After all, he had himself been a great hunter in his time.

NCISNCISNCIS

Word spread quickly; Naantam Black had returned to the village to sign the document giving the Tribe his land. The Elders should be there to honour him, and as many others as possible. It was late by now, but people began to gather at the school hall, which always doubled as the village meeting house. Shawn recalled, as he and his friends lent a hand to putting chairs out, erecting a dais and covering a table with a clean cloth, how he and three of those friends had lain here four years ago in makeshift hospital beds, when the room had become an isolation ward, while a young doctor on vacation had diagnosed and cured them of a virus he never wished to encounter again.

In the kitchen, Shawn's mother and a couple of friends clattered about preparing to make hot drinks for people who might wish to mingle afterwards. Her name was Kerry, but her grandfather called her Attanqua: Star. To him, she was. The ladies weren't alone in the room, but they worked good naturedly round the two men who were trying not to get in their way as they peered through the shutters.

Sitting at a side table were two young out-of-towners, studying the screen of a laptop. Tim, with a pair of Gibbs' reading glasses, and Ziva in a grey business suit borrowed from the resourceful Kerry, looked every inch the part of city lawyers. There were one or two curious glances, and one or two nervous ones; the two 'lawyers' and the hidden agents took note. They also checked that no-one was carrying a gun. This was always the risk at a public gathering, and the team weren't going to allow innocent people to be hurt.

The Elders arrived in their ceremonial dress; Tam cut a fine figure in his uniform. Keshowse, as Chief Elder, raised both arms to call for attention. He began to address the assembled people, first thanking Tam for his proposed gift, then speaking a little about the planned heritage centre. He explained that it would utilise the three level areas and not need any 'modification' of the cliff. It would also, as a museum that required safe access, legally preclude any other use of surrounding land.

"This," the old man said innocently, "is one of the things that Naantam's lawyers checked; that our laws are in agreement with federal ones on this point."

There was a murmur at this point; for the most part pleased, with one or two dissenting voices – the Elders were stone faced, and it was impossible to know which of them were happy and which weren't.

"Never mind," Gibbs whispered to Tony, alone with him in the kitchen by now. "The next bit should get them."

"Most of you haven't been involved in drawing up the document," the Elder went on cheerfully, "But you have a clear right to know the contents, since it will be your land; our land, when the signing is completed. So I present to you Naantam's lawyers, Miss David and Mr. McGee, who are going to read the document to us." At the murmur of consternation, he went on just as innocently as before, "Don't worry, it's not long."

A relieved laugh went round the room, and for a moment, it looked as if that woud be that, until one of the Elders said irritably, "Oh, come on… is that really necessary? It's late, and some people have got out of bed to come here. Can't we just sign and be done?"

"We could, Nissacan, but it's Naantam's express wish that the whole of our people should be included. Is there a problem with the document?"

He could have said 'is there a problem with that', but at the mention of the document, Nissacan's eyes slid away and he stammered hotly, "No, of c-course not."

"Woo – liar, liar…" Tony whispered. "Still not proof though." He slid silently out of the door and took up a position at the back, between the audience and the exit. Nissacan wasn't the only Elder who looked at him in alarm. Those up on the dais were the only ones who could see him; Nissacan and one other male Elder were looking at each other in consternation. One female Elder was looking disappointed, but not alarmed.

"Please go ahead, Miss David."

Ziva read from the actual document, while Tim made a great show of following word for word on the screen of his laptop. The Israeli made the most of her exotic accent, and took care that her expression was interesting. She wanted people to listen to every word. Nissacan and his crony sat frozen, not knowing how to get out of this. The rest of the audience concentrated politely.

"'The land requires no modification,'" Ziva read clearly, "and none shall be made." That was logical to those who wanted the centre to be built. But a few heads jerked up in surprised annoyance, including Trevor Buckley and his nephew.

Tam looked round the room, at all the dissenters. "This clause was added later," he said calmly. "It seemed that stronger protection was needed." It had indeed been written in only that evening, with the intention of causing a reaction.

Ziva continued, with details on access, and then dropped her bombshell. "The use for which the land has been designated may however…" she began to show puzzlement as if she were seeing this for the first time, "…be changed if the Elders consider it to be in… the best interests of the people." She looked over at Tim, who was frowning at his screen in studied confusion. "This was surely not in the original draft…"

"No, it's not here," Tim said authoritatively. "It seems as if the document has been modified."

Tam stood up again. "I didn't say that!" He gave a good impression of angry surprise. "I never noticed that! I could have signed… I won't sign that, Keshowse. I won't sign something that's the exact opposite of my intention."

The anxious looking female Elder said placatingly, "It's only a precaution, Tam, in case the centre couldn't be built for some reason."

"What reason could there possibly be?" Tam asked angrily.

"I… I don't know… nobody suggested one… but if the centre couldn't be built… if houses were – it could be a condition that the contractor built a new school…" – she was the head teacher – "Or a medical centre… it could benefit the whole village."

The rattle of derisive laughter from Shawn and his friends, young people she had taught, made her mouth drop open, and caught her off guard as Keshowse asked sceptically, "Nobody suggested one, Paspasat? What did they suggest?"

"Only that houses would make more money and benefit the tribe…" her voice trailed away as she started to see what she'd done from the point of view of others. She wasn't a stupid woman, but she felt silly. "I… I've been led by the nose, haven't I? By empty promises…"

Keshowse looked grave. "Who led you, Paspasat?"

She looked across at another Elder, who stood stiffly, as did Nissacan. "Dan Hunt… Nissacan, and Trevor Buckley. Dan's lawyer did the new draft. But – we haven't committed a crime…"

Gibbs was leaning against the kitchen door so that no-one could go that way, and Tony stood at the entrance. Most people were just sitting, muttering angrily to each other, when Tim's voice cut across them all. "Not yet, but if Tam had signed, you would have done. We have the original and the altered drafts, and the dates they were made, so the altered copy would not stand up in court."

Everyone fell silent as he stepped up onto the dais. "We've also tracked down who owns other isolated patches of land up on the coastal hills. Dan Hunt's mother signed land over to him that she had originally willed to her grandchildren…"

"She changed her mind," Hunt yelled. "There's nothing wrong with that!"

"… and his lawyer states that he 'was very persuasive'. Trevor Buckley owns a plot to the east of Naantam Black's land."

Buckley jumped to his feet. "So what? I inherited it fair and square. It's fit for nothing… why shouldn't I build houses there? I've done nothing wrong!"

This time it was Ziva's voice that made the angry murmurs die down. "Legally there is nothing to stop you except the will of your people. But," and she eased the suit jacket away from her gun, "There is also the matter of murder."

The murmuring surged up again, and everyone in the room turned to look at Buckley

"I didn't murder anyone! You can't pin that on me just because somebody killed that artist! It sure as hell wasn't me!"

Gibbs growled, "How did you know it was the artist we were talking about unless you were in on it?" He held his badge up. "Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Everyone just sit down and stay calm. Trevor Buckley, you're under arrest for conspiracy to murder." He looked at the two guilty looking Elders as Tim and Ziva moved closer. "Clifford Bright, Brianna Nash, you're also under arrest. Same charge."

Paspasat just looked sick. Nissacan exploded. "I didn't kill anyone! I didn't plan to kill anyone! It was that stupid kid Gary… we didn't tell him to kill the guy… we just –"

"Shut up, you damn fool," Gary Buckley shrieked, pulling his knife out, and waving it in a broad arc in front of him as Tam advanced towards him. "Get away from me…"

"You killed my best friend," he said softly.

"I'll kill you too…"

A hand tapped him on the shoulder from behind, and he looked round. Tam grabbed his wrist and bent it back, and Buckley squealed in pain. Tony took the knife without any effort at all. Tam pulled back a fist and hit the guy on the nose with all the strength he had. As he sat sprawled on the floor, a smiling NCIS agent stood over him.

"And you, Gary Buckley," he said genially, "are under arrest for murder."

In the aftermath, things needed to be done, and it was getting on for two-thirty in the morning before everyone not involved had gone home, witness statements been taken, and LEOs called to take charge of the prisoners. Eveyone was borderline exhausted.

They were inclined to believe that Paspasat wasn't involved in the conspiracy, but they weren't going to let her off the hook until they were certain there wasn't a hook there. The other three had clammed up and were saying nothing at all, but the teacher was in such a state of shock that she couldn't stop talking.

"I didn't know that so many people were against it… my kids – the kids I taught – they were laughing at me… I was trying to do something for them… a new school would have… a few houses sprouting out of the side of the cliff… what harm would they have been… Dan said they had a constructor who could put them on platforms… with cantilevers or something, and they'd hardly have to blast the hill at all…"

The team hadn't been paying a lot of attention, until Tony suddenly went as white as his shirt, and almost staggered. Tim grabbed his elbow. "Hey…"

"Cantilevers…" Tony said in horror. "McGee, cantilevers! Miz Nash, you said they had a constructor… who was he?"

"I've no idea… they didn't like him much… racist…"

Gibbs had come over as soon as he saw the colour his SFA had become. "Boss… I don't believe this… at the christening… Arthur Hastings was bragging about his construction company… I wasn't listening… but that word. Cantilevers… it's his firm. He's our redneck. And I sent Sunny to his son!" He looked at his Boss in agony.

Gibbs didn't waste time saying 'are you sure?' "I'll alert LEOs," he said. "Tony, you couldn't have known…"

"Yes, I could. I've put them all in danger. Lucy… I knew there was something… Boss, I gotta go."

"I'm coming with you," McGee said.

Tam held out a key. "Take Alberta."

AN: Nissacan: reed, Paspasat: morning. I'm running out of nouns!