Free Jackpot Blood: A Nick Herald Genealogical Mystery by Jimmy Fox Page A

said, “that fighting a bear needs a trick or two.”
    Nick hoped Tommy was only momentarily dispirited; he felt yet another handsome paycheck slipping away. “I’ve heard of tribes being terminated by the government—the Miami of Indiana, the Menominee of Wisconsin, dozens of tribes in the fifties and sixties.”
    “The Menominee got it back, though,” Chief Claude interjected.
    “Right. Nineteen seventy-three, I believe it was,” Nick confirmed, silently admiring the chief ’s depth of knowledge about Indian matters. “But I’ve never heard of a tribe refusing recognition. Does recognitionhave to mean a casino? If it were my tribe, I’d take the BIA assistance money and run, and worry about the casino issue later.”
    “You have good people on your side,” the chief said to Tommy. “It will all fall into place. Some of us Chitiko-Tiloasha were afraid, too, at first. Now, as far as being an Indian, if you think you are, that’s a big first step. The Census Bureau says that anyone who asserts they’re an Indian, is an Indian. But to get into a tribe, or to form one, you got to prove it to the BIA. Y’all got lucky; that limited research your daddy commissioned didn’t tip the scale. No, I believe somebody pulled strings up in Washington.”
    “Do you know who?” asked Tommy.
    “No, not even with all my connections. These politicians can hide inside their legislation or get out front when it suits ’em. You’ll find out, I guarantee,” answered the chief. “He’ll hit you up for a big contribution to his reelection campaign, his party, and his favorite think tank. Could be a her, for that matter. That’s how they do. Anyway, I wanted to be in on this first meeting to help you and Nick get acquainted, since I recommended him. He’s proven the lineages of many of our tribe members. Once he gets going, you won’t need me anymore. But I’ll be here, all the same.”
    “I guess I’d better ask you, then, Nick,” Tommy said. “What do I do first?”
    Nick said, “The classic approach is to start with the known, Tommy, your own family, and follow the line back. Once you’ve done that, you move on to the others who’ve remained in the traditional tribal group. One important thing is to begin getting the testimony of the oldest tribe members, to learn what they remember.”
    “Six families I know of go pretty far back,” Tommy said. “They all hid out in the forest during the Removals. I can start with the elders of those. The ones that are left.”
    “Meanwhile, I’ll tackle the written records,” Nick said. “I’d like to review the documents from the previous effort to get recognized.”
    Tommy cleared his throat. “I did have them. They’re . . . missing. We think somebody got into a closet out in my garage. Stole some other stuff, too.”
    “I’ll check with the BIA acknowledgment branch,” Nick said, making a note. “Maybe they can send me copies of what’s on file, though they always tell me they’re swamped by recognition cases and legislative mandates. You’ve had a rough time of it, lately. Does the theft of the records have anything to do with the death of your brother?”
    “I don’t know,” Tommy said. “Some say that all that important stuff going missing is another sign recognition is going to cause us more grief than it’s worth.” He pushed his cold coffee away. “Look, if you don’t mind, let’s stick to the genealogy. How long will it take? I mean for all the Cutpine folks to be enrolled. We have thirty-five families, twenty-three with men who lost their jobs when the sawmill closed. When the BIA payments start, I want everybody to get their share as soon as possible. Maybe that’ll change some minds about recognition. We all got doctors’ bills to pay, house notes, car notes . . . this is real tough on us.”
    Tommy had recently been informed, by way of an onslaught of paperwork, that the federal government provided assistance payments to needy