Chilling Effect (An Aroostine Higgins Novel Book 2)

by Melissa F. Miller

  “You old fool.” Boom spat in the dirt near Buckmount’s head.

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Here—” Aroostine handed the gun to Boom, butt first. “I took out the bullets.” She dropped them into his palm. “I need to get back to Joe. Can you stay here with Ruby until the tribal police come? She already called them and asked them to send two units and requested that Chief Johnson come to the scene, too.”

  Boom dangled the gun from two fingers as if he were reluctant to touch it. She knew the feeling.

  “Why two units?”

  Aroostine stared hard at Buckmount and answered in a low voice so Lily wouldn’t hear. “Because we found two drones that need to be secured.”

  Buckmount’s face remained impassive. No reaction.

  “I’m not sure the tribal police are the right people for the job,” Boom said.

  “I’m sure they aren’t. But they’ll do until the Department of Defense and Homeland Security work out who’s sending a team. I called Washington already. They’re probably in the middle of a heated round of Rock, Paper, Scissors as we speak.”

  He didn’t laugh.

  “That last part was supposed to be a joke.”

  “This is a very grave matter, daughter. The government will vilify us.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Boom. They’re going to want to sweep this little event under the rug as quickly as they can. Public perception and whatnot.”

  “I hope so.”

  She gave him a smile meant to reassure him, but her mind was back at the cave.

  “I really have to go. I’m afraid Buckmount’s goons are already on the way to the cave.”

  “Cave?”

  “Yeah, the drones are in a large cave back near the foothills of a mountain—”

  Boom interrupted as she tried to describe the location. “I know the cave. Go. I’ll bring Atlas and his officers and meet you there.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Then she walked over to Ruby, who was still clutching her daughter to her chest.

  “I have to go. You’re okay now. He can’t hurt either of you.”

  Ruby nodded.

  Aroostine reached out and patted Lily on her narrow back. The girl turned and beamed up at her. Aroostine’s throat threatened to close.

  She inhaled deeply and started to run, up the hill, over the valley, and back to the dark cave where her husband sat, guarding two sophisticated pieces of military equipment armed only with a dented wristwatch. She dug the toes of her shoes into the earth and ran faster than she thought possible.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Forty-nine more minutes.

  It had been an hour and eleven minutes since Aroostine left. She’d said if she wasn’t back in two hours to go for help. One hundred and twenty minutes of not knowing if she was okay. If she’d been picked up by a helpful motorist or Isaac’s murderer. If she had tripped over a root and snapped an ankle and was lying, writhing in pain, in the dirt. Or—if he was being honest, the nightmare scenario that had been running through his head in a loop—if she’d felt a dark shadow pass overhead and then been annihilated, pulverized into dust in a flash of heat and light.

  Joe eyeballed the drone as if it might tell him something about his wife’s fate. Unsurprisingly, it sat silent and still, like an animal waiting to spring.

  Stop it.

  He stood and walked to the mouth of the cave, telling himself he was just keeping his muscles loose. He wasn’t afraid of a machine.

  He made windmills with his arms. Jogged in place. Did some halfhearted jumping jacks. Checked the watch again.

  Forty-seven more minutes.

  He was going to go crazy in this cave before he managed to hit the two-hour mark. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Maybe some fresh air would help. It couldn’t possibly hurt.

  He strode out of the cave—four big steps—and breathed in deeply. The breeze ruffled his hair. A bird chattered nearby. The woods were shady now that the sun had begun its afternoon descent. But the light that did manage to stream through the trees was a welcome change from the funereal gloom inside the cavern.

  Forty-four minutes.

  He turned his face up to the sky and closed his eyes for a long moment.

  The sound of twigs snapping and grass rustling filled the quiet. He popped his eyelids open and swiveled his head, looking for the source of the noise. He saw nothing. But now his heart was banging so loudly in his chest that he also couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of it thudding.

  “Hello?” he called. He scanned the ground for a thick stick or other suitable weapon.

  “Joe?” came the reply.

  Aroostine. His shoulders relaxed, and his breath whooshed out in an enormous sigh of relief. The drumming of his heart slowed and quieted to normal.

  A moment later his wife emerged from the woods. She ducked under a bough and stepped onto the path. A frisson of joy shot through him at the sight of her. But no one followed her out of the trees. She was alone. His joy evaporated—or, more accurately, burst suddenly as if someone had stuck a pin in it.

  “No help?”

  “On its way.”

  She joined him in front of the cave and wrapped her arms around him. She clung to him so tightly that he couldn’t draw a breath, but he didn’t complain. Instead he pressed his nose into her hair and clung right back. They stood that way for a long time, he didn’t know how long, because checking his watch was the farthest thing from his mind. Instead, he held his wife wordlessly and breathed in her scent—she smelled like sunshine and, after a night sleeping on the ground, a hint of earth.

  After a while, she relaxed her grip and stepped back a half step.

  “Am I glad to see you.”

  “Evidently.”

  Her mouth curved into a bow. “Sorry. I just . . . I was so worried.”

  “Never apologize for a hug like that,” he told her. “So, how’d you get to town and back so quickly?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She leaned against the outer wall of the cave and began to tell him the entire story—how she’d run across Lee Buckmount threatening to kill Ruby, how she’d bashed his skull in, and how she and Ruby had restrained him until Boom arrived.

  “Do you really think Buckmount would have killed her?” he asked when she paused to take a breath.

  “I really do. He was so angry. He knew she knew something, but he didn’t know what. He was never going to accept that Isaac hadn’t shared any specifics with her.” She shuddered.

  He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Cold?”

  “No, I got a chill.”

  He realized that, despite her dispassionate delivery, the encounter with Buckmount had rattled her—maybe even more than had the discovery of the drones.

  “You’re okay.”

  “I know. I just . . . I think I held the gun that took Isaac Palmer’s life, Joe.” She stared down at her hand.

  He gave her a moment then asked, “What did Sid say about the drones?”

  She looked up with a miserable expression, as if the topic pained her.

  “The government’s putting together an ad hoc, cross-agency team to come out and handle the mess. All they want the tribal police to do is secure the darned things until they get here—and to do it without anyone noticing.”

  “Where are they going to store two monstrously large aircraft on the down low? Do the tribal police have an airplane hangar?”

  She made a disgusted noise. “They want the chief to station two men here. The plan is to leave them in the cave until the Defense Department can arrange transport back to Pendleton.”

  “Here?”

  “That’s what they want.”

  “What did Chief Johnson say about taking two officers away from the reservation for an unspecified period of time?”

  “Nothing yet—Sid wants me to be the bearer of that happy news.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Oh, there’s more. Ju
stice doesn’t want tribal police to question Buckmount. They want me to interview him.”

  “You mean about the drones?”

  “About all of it—the drones, Isaac’s murder, Ruby’s abduction and attempted murder, the embezzlement at the casino.”

  The mask of disgust didn’t slip from her face, but he sensed a hint of excitement in her voice.

  “That’s great, though!” He said it with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

  She painted him with a bemused look. “You think so?”

  “This is your break, Roo. Your ticket back to the fast track.”

  “Hmm. I thought you weren’t such a fan of the fast track.”

  Boom’s admonition about clipped birds echoed in his ears. He took his time answering but when he did, he spoke from a place of truth.

  “I’m not. But I’m a huge fan of yours. And I want you to do what fulfills you. Will that fulfill you—getting back into Sid’s good graces and another shot at being a superstar prosecutor?”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m not sure, to be completely honest. I thought it’s what I wanted.”

  “But?”

  “But I feel like something is shifting inside me. It’s hard to explain. Being on the reservation. Seeing Lily growing up here. I think . . . I don’t know what I think.” The raw emotion running through her voice caught him off-guard.

  He searched for a response. But the sound of loud motorized vehicles shattered the stillness of the woods. Car doors slammed, and loud voices shouted to one another.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” he said.

  She straightened her shoulders and took a centering breath. “One thing I do know is this part isn’t going to be fun—telling Chief Johnson he’s been relegated to chief babysitter isn’t going to go over well.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As a rule, Aroostine hated to be proved wrong. But in this case, she could make an exception to that policy.

  Chief Johnson had just about melted into a puddle of relief to hear that she was taking over what had to be the biggest case to come out of the White Springs Reservation since, well, ever. He assured her he’d provide whatever resources and support she needed and practically ran back to his car to radio for a second officer to come out and join Officer Hunt on caveman duty.

  Judging by the resigned slump of his shoulders, Hunt was somewhat less enthusiastic about the turn of events than his boss.

  “Seems like you sure manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t ya’?” the police officer observed.

  “Mmm. Seems as though there’s an awful lot of trouble to get into around here.”

  He narrowed his eyes and gave her a frown but didn’t respond. Joe coughed into his hand to cover a laugh.

  “So, who handles security at the testing facility? Is that in your department’s jurisdiction?”

  She asked the question casually and without judgment, but Hunt answered stiffly.

  “The facility is on our land, yes, but the Tribal Board voted to contract that work out to a private firm.”

  “Outsiders?”

  Hunt sucked air through his teeth, considering the question.

  “No. Matter of fact, the board awarded the contract to Buckmount Security Services, Inc.”

  “As in Lee Buckmount?”

  “One and the same. He operates a bunch of companies. This one provides security for the casino and resort—and now the drone testing facility.”

  “Isn’t Buckmount on the Tribal Board?”

  “Yup.”

  “I assume he recused himself from the vote in light of the obvious conflict of interest?”

  Hunt laughed. “Good one.”

  Chief Johnson trudged out of the woods and onto the path. Officer Hunt stood a little straighter and wiped the traces of amusement off his face.

  “Okay, we’re all set. Stan Hartman’ll be along shortly, Hunt. You two are on until shift change. Don’t let anyone near that cave.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chief Johnson turned to Aroostine and Joe. “Do you folks mind helping me out by driving Isaac’s car back to the reservation? We had an officer drive Ruby and Lily Smith and Boom home in Lee’s vehicle. Another officer took Lee to Doctor Scott’s office to check out that bump on his head. Officer Hunt drove Isaac Palmer’s car here from the scene, but he’ll catch a ride back with Hartman after their shift ends. I’m short a driver.”

  Aroostine shifted her gaze to Joe. He shrugged.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Actually, could we borrow it to run an errand first?” she asked.

  The police chief and Joe gave her matching quizzical looks.

  “I suppose so,” Chief Johnson said. “The car isn’t evidence in Isaac’s murder, and it’ll just be sitting around. But what am I supposed to do with Lee while you’re off running around?”

  “After he gets his head bandaged, let him cool his heels in a holding cell. He can wait.”

  She smiled coolly at Chief Johnson. He tossed Joe the keys to the Tercel and pointed through the trees.

  “Fine by me. Car’s down there.”

  They started toward the path.

  “Hang on. How did Boom get the keys?” she asked.

  “Says Isaac kept a spare in a magnetic case affixed above his rear right tire. He told Boom in case he ever needed to borrow it—Boom doesn’t have a car of his own, you know. Isaac was being neighborly.”

  Aroostine nodded. She wondered if Isaac’s neighborliness extended to leaving a spare house key lying around, too, or if Buckmount had simply knocked on the door and Isaac let him in. She’d know soon enough—as long as Buckmount didn’t lawyer up.

  Joe leaned against the car and waited while she crawled around the undercarriage to satisfy herself that the thing wasn’t going to blow up when he started the engine. She stood and dusted the knees of her pants with her hands.

  “All set?”

  “Yeah.”

  He held open the passenger door and gestured her inside. She leaned up for her kiss and then settled into the seat. He walked around to the driver’s side, slid behind the wheel, and stuck the key in the ignition.

  “Well, my lady, where to?”

  She grinned. “We’re going to the hotel to take hot showers and change our clothes.” On a hunch, she popped open Isaac’s glove compartment. A twenty, neatly folded into thirds, was tucked in the corner behind a tire pressure gauge. She pulled it out and waved it triumphantly. “But first, we eat.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  He put the car in reverse and bumped it down the rocky ground until they reached the meadow, then shifted into gear and crossed the meadow, wheels spinning through the long grass, and headed for the road.

  Aroostine rifled through Isaac’s tidy, organized glove compartment: service records stacked and rubber banded together; the owner’s manual; registration and insurance cards; a log in which he appeared to have recorded his gas mileage; a packet of tissues; a small first aid kit; and a state map.

  Joe glanced over at the pile in her lap.

  “Anything interesting?”

  “No. Isaac Palmer was either the embodiment of the reasonably prudent person or someone sanitized his stuff.”

  “The reasonably prudent person?”

  “It’s a legal standard—to determine if someone acted negligently, you ask what would the reasonably prudent person have done? If your defendant didn’t do that, then he was probably negligent. Only problem is the reasonably prudent person doesn’t exist. Nobody keeps their tire pressure exactly at the manufacturer’s recommendation, drives precisely three car lengths behind the car in front of them, changes the air filter in their furnace at ninety-day intervals, never off by a day. The reasonably prudent person would never use a shoe as a hammer or stand on a wheeled desk chair to change a lightbulb. But, judging him by the contents of his glove box, maybe Isaac Palmer was that mythical guy. Although I guess even he wasn’t prudent enough, seeing as how he
got his head blown off.”

  Joe gave her another sidelong look.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Two things.”

  “Go ahead.” She shoved the papers back into the small box.

  “One, you’re one to talk. You do all those reasonably prudent things.”

  “I do not!”

  “Most of them.”

  She frowned. “I’m not that regimented.”

  “When does Rufus need his next heartworm pill?”

  “On the twenty-sixth,” she answered instantly.

  “What temperature is our hot water tank set to?”

  “One hundred forty degrees Fahrenheit to best avoid pathogens. But if we had small children or elderly relatives living with us, one hundred and twenty degrees would be preferred to minimize the risk of scalding.”

  “Why did you check the glove compartment for money?”

  “Come on, you know why.”

  “Answer the question, Counselor.”

  She sighed. “Because I keep an emergency twenty in your glove box.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughed.

  “Whatever, Joe. What’s the second thing?”

  His tone changed from teasing to serious. “What would you have done if you were Isaac Palmer? You have information that’s serious enough to get you killed. What do you do with it?”

  She was silent for a moment, thinking.

  “I make a copy of it. And I give it to someone I trust—no, that’s not right. I wouldn’t do that. It would expose someone else to danger—someone I care about, presumably.” She chewed her lower lip. “No, I make a copy and hide it somewhere safe.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Where would he have hid it?”

  “How should I know? You’re the reasonable prude or whatever—you tell me.”

  “Reasonably prudent person.” She pushed his shoulder.

  “Close enough. Hey, look!”