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Would she ever learn to bring her books with her when going to spend “quality time” with her dad, so that on the not so off chance that he go summoned urgently somewhere remote while they were on their way there or back she would have something to do other than “sit and wait in the car”? Probably not.
Looking through the window she didn’t need to hear his conversation with Malachai Stand to know what the content was. Macho posturing. Cady sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt, intentionally deciding to ignore her dad’s edict and get some fresh air.
She didn’t have to walk far, maybe thirty feet from the Bronco to find herself standing at the cliff’s edge overlooking the creek the two of them were debating about the tribal land boundary in regards to.
Down below, she spotted the reason for the call, the reason she wasn’t going to get breakfast anytime soon: the body. Her dad tried to shield her, but it wasn’t the first one she’d seen, at least not from this kind of distance. She turned her head slightly, feeling that she’d invaded something she shouldn’t have by peeking, though she hadn’t actually meant to go in the direction of this crime scene she hadn’t known the location or rather of.
That’s when she saw him. His uniform identified him as working for the tribal police, but she couldn’t remember having seen him before. There was an elegance to his profile as she studied it, serious and intense rather than bored, his long hair was well kept, his posture something between cocky and defensive. Definitely new.
As he turned and their eyes met, Cady wasn’t sure whether she was more embarrassed to have been caught looking at the crime scene or him. She bit her lip, swallowing hard.
The man shook his head slightly, maybe it disbelief, raising an eyebrow in what she couldn’t tell if was amusement or disapproval.
“There you are,” her father’s voice behind her startles Cady out of her reverie, “I thought I told you to wait in the car.”
“And I thought we were going to have breakfast? Is that still on the table or is Malachai choosing to let you deal with his problems for him again?”
“We’re leaving for now,” her dad sighed, “But as soon as I drop you off at the Red Pony I have to get back to the station and try and find someway to argue against Malachai’s stance. There’s something fishy about that case, something Malachai doesn’t want me to find.”
Cady spares one last glance downwards. Malachai has come down to the creek bed and is gesturing emphatically to his underling about something. The latter has straightened up, dropping whatever signs of genuine emotion regarding the corpse as soon as his boss arrived. He looking back up momentarily, eyes meeting hers and Cady feels like she understands something, but then he turns back the other way and she has to hasten to catch up with her dad, who is moving like there’s a fire somewhere.