"I'm her attorney," Jamie said, moving closer to Rachel instead of away from her like he'd been asked to do.
The two officers glanced at each other, clearly doubting that the relationship between Jamie Dutton and the woman they were trying to speak to alone was that of attorney and client. But his tone left no room for negotiation. And while many people liked to claim they could have a police officer fired with no more than a phone call, the acting Attorney General and the Governor of Montana were actually capable of carrying out such a threat.
"He's actually dead?," Rachel asked, drawing her feet up into the seat of the porch chair so that she could wrap her arms around her knees. She stared up at the officers, her blue eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and sadness. "Daniel BlueThunder? You're sure it was him?"
The younger of the two officers only nodded. It was the older and more experienced of the two that replied with a simple yes ma'am. He stood with his shoulders straight, the afternoon sun gleaming off the silver badge on his shirt.
"If you're trying to notify the next of kin, it really should be his sister Angela," Rachel explained. "We've been divorced for almost three years now."
"She's already been notified," the older officer said. "That's not why we're here ma'am."
Rachel glanced up at the two men, feeling confused and maybe even a little curious. If Daniel was dead, she had no idea what that might have to do with her. And she wasn't sure if she liked the way the younger officer with the messy blonde hair was shifting nervously. The older and more experienced of the two maintained his air of professional detachment as he pulled a small pad of paper from his back pocket and flipped through it until he found the information he was looking for.
"Where were you on the evening of May ninth?," he asked. Before Rachel could answer, Jamie interjected.
"What is this about?," he demanded. Rachel reached over, taking his hand in hers and pulling him closer to her. She was the only person that was seated on the porch. Jamie was standing, along with the two officers. But he shifted his body closer to her chair, putting his hand on her shoulder and letting her lean into his side.
"This is a murder investigation," the officer said, his tone more stern than it had been a moment ago.
"Murder?," Rachel repeated in disbelief. When they said Daniel was dead, she naturally assumed that he'd finally overdosed or drunk himself to death. "Someone killed him?"
The younger officer nodded again, glancing at his more seasoned partner before he spoke. He gave Rachel a sympathetic look before he turned and spoke to Jamie. Rachel wasn't sure if he was directing his words to Jamie instead of her because he was a man, because he said he was her lawyer, or because he seemed to be the less emotional between the two of them. And she wasn't sure if she even cared. She just wanted these men to ask her whatever they needed to and leave. Because while she might be already feeling slightly relieved that her ex was dead, Daniel was still Dakota's father. And Rachel was worried about how her daughter was going to take the news.
"From the evidence, it appears that he was killed in a drug deal gone wrong. We're just looking to clear Miss Miller so we can move on with the investigation," the younger officer explained.
Jamie narrowed his eyes at the two men. It was obvious that they were playing good cop bad cop with him. But that didn't mean the younger one wasn't telling the truth. Rachel was Daniel's ex wife. They had to at least give the impression that they questioned her or it wouldn't look like they had done a very thorough investigation. He doubted they even cared about a low life piece of addict trash like Daniel BlueThunder. They were probably only investigating his death to avoid pressure and scrutiny from the reservation. And whatever the real reason for their presence here, Jamie didn't appear to be on their radar at all except as a nuisance that was impeding their ability to intimidate Rachel. He squeezed her shoulder, gesturing that it was alright for her to answer the question.
"What's the date you said?," Rachel asked. The older officer repeated it. And gave her permission to check her phone calendar since she wasn't sure where she was on that particular day. Jamie kept his face neutral. And stayed quiet. He knew where Rachel was on the night her ex was killed. Obviously. Because he and Rip killed that piece of trash while she was out of town cleaning out her parent's house. But he still let her poke through her phone for the information. Because having an alibi readily prepared would arouse suspicion.
"I was in Whitehall," Rachel said, sliding her finger up the screen of her phone. "I was cleaning my parents house out so I could put it on the market." She glanced up at the officers, waiting to see if that would satisfy them. She wasn't sure where Daniel died. But she was certain it wasn't in Whitehall in her parents HOA neighborhood.
"Can anyone verify that?," the older man asked. Rachel nodded.
"My daughter and two of the ranch hands went with me. Plus my realtor. I met with her on the ninth. Her name is Jennifer Cooley. Do you want her number?" The older officer nodded affirmatively and jotted down Jennifer's number on his small pad of paper as Rachel read the number aloud from the contacts in her phone.
"Do you know of anyone that might want to hurt your ex husband?," the younger officer asked. Rachel took a deep breath and gently sighed as she released it. She hated talking about Daniel's unsavory habits. It was embarrassing. And she always felt like people were judging her because of her affiliation with him. Either they assumed she was doing drugs right along with him. Which she wasn't. Not ever. Or they pitied her for being stupid enough to marry such a man. Which was honestly even worse.
"Daniel had a gambling problem. And a drug problem. He drank too much. He was in for a lot of money with pretty much every bookie in town. I don't know anyone in particular that would want to hurt him. But I'm sure it's not a short list," Rachel said, keeping her eyes cast downward.
"I understand you had a restraining order against him," the officer said.
Rachel nodded. She had one. Not that it was worth any more than the piece of paper it was printed on. It never stopped Daniel from harassing her. She had to move six times in the last two years. Half the time, the police didn't care if he was violating the order. And if they could be bothered to rouse him out of whatever filthy waterhole he was hiding in, they never kept him locked up for long. When he got out, he would find her again and get revenge by doing something even worse than whatever she called the police on him for. Vandalizing her car was something he particularly enjoyed. It was the reason she was still driving that rusty old piece of crap sedan.
"When's the last time you had any contact with him?," the officer asked.
Rachel felt Jamie squeeze down a little harder on her hand. Her eyes darted up at him, unsure of how she should answer the question. The police were investigating Daniel's murder. So she didn't think telling them that the last time she saw the man was when Jamie was literally beating his ass with a two by four was a very good idea.
"I'm not sure," Rachel said. "It's been a while. Probably since the last time I filed a complaint about him violating his restraining order." She wasn't sure how long it had been since the last time she called the police. They never did anything except make things worse. So eventually, she just stopped calling.
Before they could ask Rachel anything else, Beth swung the front door open and stepped out onto the porch. She offered the two men cups of coffee, specifying that they were to-go. If it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation and the unsettling news she just received, Rachel would have laughed at the other woman's antics. A few words from Beth sent the two officers scurrying away down the steps like frightened squirrels.
"Thanks," Rachel said, leaning away from Jamie and reaching for Beth's hand. Beth caught it, pulling her up and out of her chair. Rachel leaned into Beth, wrapping her arms around her. Jamie wrinkled up his nose. He and Beth made a sort of temporary truce. Which really just meant they weren't fighting in front of Rachel. He still didn't like Beth hugging all over her. It was like watching his girlfriend hug an alligator.
"Want me to come with you while you talk to Dakota?," Beth asked.
Rachel nodded, giving Beth a grateful smile. Jamie rolled his eyes, irritated that he didn't get the chance to make the same offer. Dakota was going to be his stepdaughter. Not Beth's. She was always poking her nose in where it wasn't wanted. And to add insult to injury, Beth lifted her hand and flipped him off behind Rachel's back as she led her away into the house.
Jamie flopped down in the chair Beth just pulled Rachel out of with a dejected huff. The officers left the porch. But not the driveway. They were still sitting there in their patrol car, talking to each other. Their continued presence made Jamie nervous. And he forced himself to keep his body language casual as he rose from the chair and headed for the barn to talk to Rip.
"She seemed like she was telling the truth," the younger officer said, adjusting his body in the seat.
"That's because she was," his more experienced partner responded with a laugh. The woman they just questioned answered all their questions truthfully. Until he asked her when she'd seen her ex-husband last. She lied about that. But he still didn't think she killed the man. Her alibi was rock solid. And even if it wasn't, there was no way a woman of her size and stature choked a grown man to death.
"I think he's hiding something," the younger man said, his eyes darting towards Jamie's retreating back.
"He's a lawyer," his partner said. "They're always hiding something."
"We should've asked him where he was on the night that man was killed," the young officer said, lifting his hand and chewing at a hangnail on his thumb. His partner simply laughed, a low rumbling chuckle that tapered off as quickly as it started. "Maybe he did it," the young man insisted. If his girlfriend was being stalked and harassed, he might think about taking matters into his own hand. And the Dutton's had enough money and influence to make someone like Daniel BlueThunder disappear. It really was a plausible theory.
"If you've got any sense in your head," his partner scolded, "...you'll let go of that idea right the fuck now."
"You really think he did it?," the younger man exclaimed, watching his partner roll his eyes as he backed the cruiser up and headed down the long winding driveway towards the road.
"I know he did it," the man finally admitted. "Maybe not himself. People like that don't like to get their hands dirty." He gave his trainee a warning glance. "But I'm not going up against the Duttons. And neither are you. Especially not over some druggie wife beater piece of reservation trash who deserved what he got. So look in that file and figure out who else we need to talk to before we can toss this piece of shit case in the unsolved bin and move on."
"You're the boss," the younger man agreed with a laugh as he fished the file out of the small pile on the floor near his feet. "The only person we still need to talk to is his sister. Angela BlueThunder."