Lori G. Armstrong - Blood Ties

Published 2005 by Medallion Press, Inc.
225 Seabreeze Ave.
Palm Beach, FL 33480

The MEDALLION PRESS LOGO
is a registered tradmark of Medallion Press, Inc.

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment from this stripped book.

Copyright 2005 by Lori Armstrong
Cover Illustration by Adam Mock

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Armstrong, Lori, 1965
Blood ties / Lori Armstrong.
p. cm.
ISBN 1-932815-32-5
1. Women private investigatorsSouth DakotaFiction. 2. Indians of North AmericaCrimes againstFiction. 3. Murder victims familiesFiction. 4. South DakotaFiction. I. Title.
PS3601.R576B585 2005
813.6dc22

2004030265

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Thanks to everyone at Medallion Press for believing in this book.

The authors who generously granted me their time, enthusiasm and expertise.

The Rapid City Police Department, Pennington County Sheriffs Department, and the local FBI office for keeping suspicions to a minimum at my barrage of questions. Any technical/factual/procedural errors are mine alone.

To Brian Schnell, of Professional Investigative Resources, for sharing the details on making a living as a real PI in western South Dakota. Again, any procedural embellishments are purely fictional.

Daughters, Lauren, Haley and Tessa: Thanks for reminding me on a daily basis whats really important in my life. And for not complaining about popcorn for dinner (again) when Im writing. You rock! Now, go clean your rooms.

Mom and Dad, for being proud of me, no matter what crazy stuff I attempt. Brett: You are the best brother and friend on the planet. PS I got here first, Bud.

My critique partners and members of my local writing group for their support.

Lastly, and most importantly, thanks to my husband, Erin, for not having me committed when a bumper sticker changed the course of my life. Love ya, babe.

AUTHORS NOTE: For those unfamiliar with South Dakota, Ive taken a few liberties with the Black Hills. Although Bear Butte is a real landmark, Bear Butte County is entirely fictional.

a fascinating tale of intrigue that will sweep you into a world of horror and suspense.

Clive Cussler,
NY Times Bestselling author

Lori G. Armstrongs BLOOD TIES is a gripping debut mystery, vividly set in The Black Hills of South Dakota.

Kathleen Taylor,
Author of the TORY BAUER MYSTERIES

Hard as nails, a barroom brawler and a chick! Lori Armstrongs creation is born of the Black Hills. Tough, sensitive and smart, Julie Collins is a welcome addition to the private eye genre. In BLOOD TIES she breaks all the rules.

Stephanie Kane,
Author of SEEDS OF DOUBT

I highly, highly recommend Ms. Armstrongs debut read. She provides plenty of edge of your seat reading.

K. Ahlers,
Independent Reviewer

Lori Armstrong writes a compelling story that will hold your interest from the first page. I was glued to my chair from the prologue and couldnt stop reading until I finished it. BLOOD TIES is a roller coaster ride of danger and excitement that will have your heart pumping and your emotions twisting like a wet dish rag. I loved this book, and if you like kick-butt heroines and a fast paced mystery, you will too.

C.Cody,
www.romancejunkies.com

Table of Contents

D EATH HAS NIPPED AT MY HEELS like a disobedient dog since I was fourteen.

A drunk driver killed my mother the autumn of that year. She was hit head on. The extent of her injuries, including massive head trauma, excluded the option of an open casket.

I felt cheated. I believed then, if Id touched her hand or stroked her cheek one last time, acceptance of her death might have offered me comfort or closure. It didnt ease my pain that she didnt suffer. It didnt ease my sense of injustice that the drunk also died upon impact. And it didnt ease my fathers rage that the man responsible was Lakota.

After my mothers death, my fathers hatred of Indians deepened, spreading wide as the Missouri River which divides our state. Hed never hidden his prejudice, but in the aftermath, the racial slurs flew from his mean mouth with regularity. Prairie niggers and gut eaters were flung out heedlessly. In those public moments I cringed against his harsh words. In private I fumed against him. I found it puzzling that a man with such a deep-seated loathing for an entire race had sired a son with the same blood.

Apparently my father believed he was absolved of his part in the creation of that life when he signed away paternal rights. The childs mother believed the boy would never know the truth about his white father.

They were both wrong.

My half-brother, Ben Standing Elk, arrived on our doorstep shortly after hed turned nineteen.

When my father leveled a look of pure disgust upon the Indian darkening his door, I was horrified, and demanded an explanation for things I didnt have the ability to understand. His stony silence mocked me. I expected him to yell back. I expected to be grounded for showing disrespect. But the last thing I expected was the hard, stinging slap he delivered across my face.

We never spoke of that day. By some miracle, probably of my mothers making, I forged a relationship with my brother.

Good old Dad was conspicuously absent whenever Ben came around. Id gone beyond caring. I loved Ben without question. Without boundaries. And without clue to the consequences. With him I found the bond Id been lacking. A bond I counted on years later when the tenuous one with my father finally snapped.

Blood ties are strong. But the strands can easily be broken, whether tended with love or ripped apart by hatred. My father chose his means, fate chose mine.

Fate and death seem to be intertwined in my life. After recent events, I realize nothing about death ever offers closure, regardless if it is accidental or premeditated. I still feel cheated. But Im older now. Wiser. More determined that justice will be served, even if that justice is a brand of my own making. I wont blindly give in to acceptance until I know the truth. Even then, I doubt it will bring me peace.

Ben helped me deal with my mothers death. I grieve that there is no one to help me deal with his.

The dog is quiet once again, sated somehow. But I know it wont last. It never does.

Three years later

A LMOST, JUST A LITTLE LOWER. Right there. Oh, God, yes, thats it.

Id shamelessly splayed myself over the filing cabinet, but the warm masculine hands caressing my vertebrae froze.

Knock it off, Julie. Sheriff hears you moaning like that, hell think were doing it on your desk.