by Michele Hauf
He glanced toward the couch. A warm body lay there, beckoning his return. Only a few steps away. No need to face the brutal weather.
Jason shook his head. He wasn’t one to push the easy button. And if he didn’t check the generator now, the cabin would only grow colder, and the risk of the water pipes freezing was a real possibility.
Putting on his coat, boots, gloves and scarf, he worked quietly. Yvette didn’t stir on the couch. Yvette, of the luscious mouth. The woman did not tease about flirting. Their make-out session, though too short for him, had stoked a fire within him. He could go there with her. Beyond the kiss and into bared skin and moans. But only as a fling. Because she lived in France and had no intention of staying in Minnesota. And if he started something with her...he didn’t want to get his heart broken. It was tough enough being a bachelor in a small town.
Opening the front door and bracing for the cold, he swore silently as his skin tightened. The air hurt his face. Closing the door quietly behind him, he assessed the situation. The snow was not so deep in front of the cabin. Thanks to wind drift, he could still see most of the driveway and up to the gravel road. Here and there, sharp-edged drifts cut across that road. The plow only drove through on Mondays. Which had been yesterday. Though Rusty Nelson, of the gas station, did take his blade through town because The Moose always gave him a free meal in payment. As for the outer, less traveled roads, everybody would have to sit tight. The snowmobile would glide across this fresh powder like a dream.
Walking around the side of the cabin, Jason navigated the dark dawn with ease. He loved the way the darkness could be bright in the wintertime, illuminated by the white landscape. The world was quiet, blanketed to solace with the glittering snow. The stillness amplified his steps, his rubber-soled boots crunching the snowpack.
He bent and scooped up some snow and tried to form a snowball. It held, but not well. Which meant the snow was not too wet. A good thing if he wished to hop on the cat and ride into town.
Keeping his head down and his eyes peeled, he looked for anything out of the ordinary. Tracks, evidence of anything or anyone who may have attempted to broach the cabin during the night. Cut the electrical power. But the snow cover was pristine.
The back of the cabin was hugged by a snowdrift that reached half a foot up and over the window glass. The two walls that shielded the generator had been worthless. The cover was drifted up high; snow completely covered the generator. Jason swore. Somewhere under all that snow sat the key to getting the electricity back on.
He weighed the options. He could get a shovel out of the garage and dig down and try to figure out what was wrong with the generator. The cabin would not be livable if it had no heat. But he didn’t have the time to play handyman. The electrician from Ely, a town about thirty minutes east, would be able to get out here, but he couldn’t know if it would be today or in a few days.
The other option was to bring Yvette into town with him. There he could do his job and keep her close until they could find the perp.
Nodding, Jason eyed the garage. No drifts before the double door. Thankful he wouldn’t have to shovel his way out, he wandered back around to the front of the house.
* * *
THE INVITE TO stay at the police chief’s house was unexpected, but welcome. Having woken up shivering, Amelie now kept the blanket tight about her shoulders and wandered down the short hallway into the log-walled bedroom. The idea of stripping away her clothing to shower did not seem particularly wise. Instead, she added another sweater over her shirt and then, with the blanket again draped across her shoulders, pulled on another pair of socks and rolled them to cover the hems of her leggings.
“I really hate Minnesota,” she muttered.
Though she was never one to hate anything. It wasn’t the state—it was this cold. For certain, France did have its chilly moments in the wintertime. However, she’d become accustomed to working in an office building, insulated from the elements. Maybe the summers here were warm and sunny. In this part of the state, surely the nature must be amazing. She’d only read about the Boundary Waters and the forest that hugged the upper part of the state, but for an outdoorsman, it must be a dream.
She did want to venture out with her camera again. And if that meant braving the frigid weather, then so be it. Because it was high time she started facing the facts. That pros and cons list? She’d lied to Jason. It had fallen heavily in favor of the cons. And if she was honest with herself, the idea of returning to her current job did not appeal.
Could she make a living as a photographer? It had started as a cover job for her assignments. A good agent tried to choose a cover she was familiar with, so she could easily blend, and Amelie had always loved photography. Thanks to her father’s life insurance policy, she had a healthy savings account that would allow her to quit her paycheck job while seeking something that could satisfy her need for fulfilling work. It was something she needed to seriously consider. And soon.
She wandered back out to the living room. Even if she didn’t appreciate the current climes, the male species was something to admire. Case in point? Jason stood before the hearth, ensuring all sparks were completely dampened. Bent over in those blue jeans, he provided a great view of his nice, tight—
“You pack?” he called over a shoulder.
“Uh...” Pack? Oh, right. “A few things.” She set down her grocery-run backpack that she’d filled with clothing. “How long do you think it will take to get the electricity working?”
“I’ll give Karl a call when we get to town,” he said. “Storm dropped a good twenty inches last night. We’ll have to take the snowcats into town.”
“I’m good with that. For as much as I hate the cold, I actually enjoy dashing through the snow in a horseless open sleigh.”
He chuckled. “Good one. You’ll learn to like our weather. It’s good for the blood.”
“It is?”
“Yeah.” He slapped his chest, and Yvette could only imagine doing the same, yet gentler, and...under his shirt. “Keeps the blood pumping.” His cell phone rang, and he answered as he wandered to the foyer and started pulling on his outerwear. Amelie now realized the Wi-Fi had been available when she’d checked for texts upon rising.
“Yeah?” Jason said to the caller. “You’re kidding me? Where?”
Amelie pulled on the snow pants that had been provided by the cabin. They were thermal and designed like overalls, so they provided a layer of added warmth and protection from the elements.
“I’ll be there in...” Jason eyed her, then gave her a forced smile before answering the person on the phone. “Give me half an hour.” He hung up and then tossed her the knit cap that was sitting on top of his gloves. “Alex found a body in a running vehicle near the edge of town.”
“A body?”
“Yeah. Uh...” He winced as he appeared to consider his words. “It’s the perp.”
“What?”
“Alex ID’d him as the mafia hit man, Herve Charley.”
“How did he die?”
“Carbon-monoxide inhalation? Won’t know until I can take a look. The medical examiner is already on her way. The main road has been plowed. I’ll have to drop you at my house and run. Hell, maybe I should take you to the station. Be safer there.”
Amelie pulled on a pout. “I was looking forward to a hot shower. Is your place really a target for crime? And you did say the suspect is dead.”
“I thought we’d determined we don’t really know what the hell is going on.”
Amelie swallowed. He was right. She really needed to get smart about this operation. Because it was a mission she needed to participate in.
“Aw, don’t give me the pouty face. Fine. You get a shower. And then you’re heading to the station where I, or someone, can keep an eye on you.”
Amelie bounced on her toes. It was a small victory, but it lifte
d her spirits. And she needed that.
Chapter Fifteen
The forest green SUV had been pushed into the ditch. Purposely. It hadn’t slid off the icy gravel road while traveling. Though, certainly, the roads were treacherous this bright, sunny morning. Ice glinted like a bejeweled crust under the cruel sunshine. Last night’s blizzard conditions had kept every smart person inside and safe in their homes. Save this one. But the vehicle couldn’t have been in the ditch for long. The tire tracks leading into the ditch were crisp, only lightly covered with a dusting of snow blown by the wind.
Jason stretched his gaze along the road and spied another set of tracks. Faint, but again, snow had drifted slightly to emboss the tire treads. And they were different than those of the ditched vehicle.
“You see that?” he said to Alex, who stood waiting for Jason outside the patrol car.
“Yep. Another vehicle either forced this one in the ditch, or someone stopped to help but left.”
“I’m ruling out help,” Jason decided. If it had been anyone from the town, they would have called dispatch to alert him to the situation. “You run a plate check?”
“Yes. Vehicle belongs to Carol Bradley. She reported it missing from her garage—door open, keys hanging on the key holder inside the garage—forty-five minutes ago.”
“Oh, Carol,” Jason muttered. “You were just asking for that one. So the perp stole a vehicle that was virtually handed to him in the first place.”
Stepping carefully on the icy tarmac, Jason inspected the exterior of the vehicle. Grayish-white dust from the salted roads shaded the green paint. Because of the angle the truck sat at, the passenger’s side hugging the ditch was buried up to the bottom of the side windows. The engine had been running when Alex had arrived on the scene, and he’d shut it off. And...the back right wheel of the car had sunk into the ditch, allowing snow to cover the exhaust pipe.
“Not good,” he muttered. The exhaust had nowhere to go but inside the vehicle.
“Carbon monoxide?” Alex asked from where he was walking to determine that the only footprints were boot marks from him and Jason.
“Looks like it,” Jason called.
“Someone could have run him off the road. Guy got knocked out. The other car backed up and drove off. This guy never woke up,” Alex conjectured.
“We’ll see.”
With a lunge, Jason stepped up onto the running board edging the driver’s side of the truck. He peered inside and found exactly as expected. The driver, Herve Charley, was immobile, buckled in, his jaw slack. Alex reported that he’d initially opened the door and shaken the man but had quickly realized he was dead, so then he’d stepped back so as not to contaminate the scene.
Jason stepped down and opened the door, having to push it with some strength to fight against the angle at which the vehicle was tilted. Sliding between the door and the car frame, he leaned in and inspected the guy’s face. He didn’t notice any bruising on the forehead or temple areas where a sudden slam of the brakes might have sent him flying forward into the windshield. And to know if his chest had hit the steering wheel hard would require the medical examiner.
Charley’s eyes were closed. His skin was still pink, but his lips were bluing. Carbon-monoxide poisoning did not tend to blue the skin, and, if Jason recalled a few previous experiences with the like, the lips turned bright red. Certainly, the cold could be a factor in the odd skin color. A heater didn’t do a person much good when the wind whipped the icy air through and about the steel vehicle.
He wouldn’t touch the body without gloves. The medical examiner would chastise him for that. No visible weapons. No pistol, no knife. He couldn’t have purposely parked at such a strange angle, and halfway in the ditch. Maybe he had slid a ways and Jason had read the tracks incorrectly. Because why would someone run him into the ditch? Who knew this man was in Frost Falls? Had he started a fight with someone?
Didn’t make sense. He’d escaped from jail. Charley should have been lying low or long gone from the town by now.
He scanned the truck’s interior. On the passenger seat sat a plastic grocery bag. When Jason lifted the edge, he spied inside a half-full plastic bottle of a bright blue energy drink and an opened pack of salted beef sticks.
Turning the key in the ignition to get power but not spin the engine, Jason listened to the radio station. It was the Duluth top hits channel that played current songs all the way back to the ’60s and the ’70s. He checked the gas gauge. Half-full. No other warning lights.
Had Charley been staking out Yvette? He was parked a mile out on the east road, which led to the Birch Bower cabin. Nothing else out this way, save the rental cabin. But what had stopped him from proceeding to the cabin? The road, while slick, was not drifted over. Easily drivable at a slow speed. Had he seen Jason head out this way on the snowmobile earlier in the day? Waiting for him to leave? Possible.
But the additional set of tire tracks bothered Jason. They had stopped right behind the SUV. No boot tracks, though. Whoever had driven the other car had not gotten out. Alex’s guess about another vehicle pushing this one into the ditch, then taking off, could be right on.
Switching off the ignition, Jason stepped out of the truck as Elaine pulled up in the medical examiner’s van. Must be her turn to drive the vehicle. The county shared one van between the four offices in the Boundary Waters area.
“The victim did not get out of the vehicle,” Alex reported. With a gesture toward the SUV, he added, “He’s wearing those cowboy boots. I checked. No tracks outside to match. Just our boots. Although, with the ice and drifting, even if he had gotten out, those tracks would have been dusted away.”
“Thanks, Alex.” Jason tugged at his skullcap to cover the tops of his ears. He wandered to the rear of the vehicle and inspected the chrome bumper. Sure enough, a sharp dent crimped the end. “Someone pushed him into the ditch. But I feel like he might have been parked here.”
“We got a vigilante going after the bad guy?” Alex asked.
“No one knows about our resident bad guy,” Jason said.
Except Yvette. But he’d been with her all night. And while Bay and Marjorie knew to keep a tight lid on police business, he could assume the three women he’d questioned about Yvette Pearson’s death had already released that information into the gossip grapevine.
He waved as the medical examiner approached. “Elaine! You made it.”
Already snapping on black latex gloves, Elaine executed careful steps over the icy road. “I’m a hardy sort, you know that, Cash. Icy roads don’t intimidate me.” With a nod to Alex, she stomped across the snowpack to peek inside the cab. “Sitting here overnight?”
“Alex found him on morning rounds. He always checks on the Enerson couple down the road.”
“That couple must be pushing a hundred, the both of them,” Elaine said.
“Einer turned a hundred and one last week,” Alex called as he wandered back to the patrol car, most likely to retrieve a thermos of coffee.
Jason wished he’d consumed some coffee before coming here. He’d even suffer the bitter, dark stuff Alex tilted down like an addict. He’d pulled up to his house on the snowmobile, Yvette behind him. Handing Yvette the key to the front door, he’d told her to make herself at home. The last time he’d given a woman free rein in his home, she’d put pink pillows on his couch and had suggested he get a juicer. All he could do was shiver at that memory.
Elaine put up a boot on the SUV’s side runner, and Jason grabbed her elbow to steady her while also holding the car door open with his shoulder.
“Thanks, Cash. You think it was carbon monoxide?”
“I do. But there’s damage to the back bumper and additional tire treads. Someone nudged the vehicle into the ditch.”
“Interesting,” she muttered out from inside the cab.
While waiting for Elaine’s initial inspection of
the deceased, Jason watched Alex tilt back the thermos. The one thing Jason never missed was his morning coffee. But this morning had been unusual in that he’d woken snuggled beside a beautiful woman. Both of them fully clothed.
Something wrong with that picture.
On the other hand, he never expected anything from a woman unless they had communicated clear signals to those expectations. It had been sweet to find Yvette’s warm body curled up against him this morning. Shared body heat on a stormy winter night. Nothing at all wrong with that.
But what did it mean for their future? Why was he even thinking future about the woman? Was it because she was the first woman he’d met in a long time who hit all his this feels right buttons? Or was he desperate and lucky to find a beautiful woman, about his age, in the same vicinity as he was?
No, it wasn’t that. She was smart, courageous and in need of his protection. And the courageous part appealed to him. A woman who wasn’t afraid to defend herself and could take his garbage? Could he get more, please?
A future would be great. Even if that only entailed the two of them getting to know one another better and doing more than sharing a snuggle. An official date would be a great start.
Elaine jumped down and tugged off her gloves then stuffed them in her left pocket. From her right pocket, she pulled out thermal gloves and slid them on. “No telltale cyanosis. Which means it wasn’t carbon monoxide. Though it may have lulled the deceased a bit.”
“What’s cyanosis?”
“Skin turning blue.”
“Right. I noticed that, but, well...” Jason peered inside the cab. The body sure looked as if it had suffered from inhalation of a poisonous substance. He adjusted his stance, pressing back the door with his shoulder, but also fighting the whipping wind that suddenly decided to sweep the snow up and into their faces. “What did you see, Elaine?”
“Did you notice the fine crystal on his collar? And the smell of his breath?”