by Linda Berry
Selena took the cup in her gloved hands and sipped. The warm liquid glided over her tongue and down her throat. It was the sensory distraction she needed. She surfaced from a softly padded world into the snowy meadow where large snowflakes had begun to fall. Meeting Granger’s clear blue eyes, she released a nervous sigh. “Thank you. I’m all right. Is help coming?”
“Yeah, but it’ll be a while. They can only get so far by truck. Then they’ll have to use snowmobiles. This storm could get bad, and it’s likely to get a lot colder. It’s too far for you to ride back to the ranch alone. I called Tommy. His village is minutes away. He’s coming to get you.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” Tears filled her eyes. “Out here. Alone.”
He took both of her hands. “Selena, this is a crime scene. I’m on the job. I have to work. I also need to know you’re safe. Will you go with Tommy? Will you do that for me?”
Selena nodded, hating this new version of herself. This stranger, who displayed total ineptitude, and helplessness, and had to rely on a man to help her through a crisis. She loathed the tears.
“Good,” he said, and then almost to himself, “I should never have brought you out here. What was I thinking?” He pulled her into his arms, held her close, his cheek cold against her own. “And now…this.”
They stood close for a long time, his body a fortress, protecting her from unknown horror, until the rumble of a snowmobile sounded in the distance. The engine grew louder and then it emerged from the forest, a black beast spraying a rooster tail of powder, gliding smoothly across the field carrying two passengers. The motor stopped and the smell of exhaust drifted in the air. The tall driver, wearing a down jacket, a wool cap pulled low on his forehead, and a knit scarf over his face, crunched through the snow to join them. Only his dark brown eyes were visible. “Where is she?”
“Just past the bridge.” Granger and the man climbed down into the channel, squatted, and roughly wiped away new fallen snow.
The man gave a strangled cry. His shoulders slumped and he covered his face with one hand. After a long moment, they climbed back up the bank.
Trying to appear useful, Selena stood brushing snow from Brandy’s mane. The flakes were falling like goose down—silent, mesmerizing, softening the edge of the forest and the two men who stood nearby talking in hushed tones.
“You know her?” Granger asked.
“Yeah. Nikah Tamanos. She lives...lived in the village.” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “With her boyfriend. He’s a drunk. Abusive. We asked him to leave. He moved to town.”
“She have any other family in the village?”
“Not by blood. But we’re all family. Nikah is…was…like a little sister.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Granger’s gentle comment was followed by a respectful silence. “A recovery team is on the way. When we finish here, Chief Becker and I will need to come out to the village and talk to folks. Pick up Selena.” Both men glanced toward her. It was just a look, but she thought they viewed her as an injured bird.
“Where will you take her body?” Tommy asked.
“The morgue. The M.E. is coming out.”
“Dr. Linthrope is a good man,” Tommy said. “He’ll be respectful.”
A smaller figure left the snowmobile and trudged toward them sweeping a sturdy, hand-carved staff before him, following the sound of Tommy’s voice. Like the older man, he was clothed in a padded jacket and pants, his features hidden by a ski hat and a scarf wrapped around his face. He was obviously blind.
“This way,” Tommy said. “You’re good. Keep coming.” His arm encircled the boy’s shoulders. “This is my son, Tegan.”
They exchanged a greeting.
“It’s Nikah?” The boy’s voice sounded muffled through his scarf.
“Yes.”
“Someone killed her?”
“I’m afraid so.”
With a choked sob, the boy pressed his face into his father’s jacket. Tommy held him close.
Watching the two huddled figures in the drifting snow, Selena felt a piercing sorrow. She suddenly became aware of how chilled she had become from the sudden drop in temperature and the aftershocks of finding the murdered woman.
Tommy’s voice softened as he addressed his son. “You ready to head back?”
The boy nodded and pulled away.
Tommy cast his glance to Selena. “Let’s get you in front of our fireplace so you can thaw out.”
“What about the horses?” Even as the words left her mouth, Tegan heaved himself onto the back of Granger’s gelding, his hand deftly finding the reins of both horses.
“They’ll follow,” Tommy said. “We’ll put the horses in our barn.”
“I should ride, too,” she said. How could she leave that task to a blind boy?
“Tegan’s wearing snow gear, heated gloves. You’re not dressed for this weather. I have a blanket in the snowmobile.”
Granger’s ears were red with cold. Earlier, he had stuffed a thick knit cap and scarf into his saddlebag. Selena pulled them out and he accepted gratefully, and soon his head, too, was wrapped beyond recognition, and his shoulders were turning white under the incessant powder.
Selena scanned the periphery of the meadow and her eyes froze on a copse of aspens, their mottled white trunks naked, skeletal branches raised to the sky. Something low and white slinked behind the trees and disappeared. An animal. Stalking them. Or was her mind playing tricks? “I’m worried about leaving you here,” she said.
“I’ll be fine. Go, Selena,” Granger said firmly. It was an order. He was in cop mode. As if to reassure her, he drew his shotgun from its scabbard and held it in the crook of his arm, barrel pointing down.
Reluctantly, she trudged to the snowmobile, boots squeaking in the snow, and settled herself on the back seat. Tommy handed her a helmet, then he tucked a thick wool blanket over her legs. As the mini caravan started toward the woods, she felt warmer, but she also felt a stab of something deep in her belly and knew it was guilt. She glanced back at Granger—a white figure barely discernible behind a gauzy veil of snow.
CHAPTER THREE
SIDNEY LAID IN DAVID’S arms in a sleepy state of bliss, still damp from lovemaking, the edge taken off the desire she perpetually felt for him. The sheets were rumpled beneath them and hazy light fell though the blinds, highlighting the soft hair on his chest. Sex with David was like nothing she’d ever known, a physical conversation of intense sensitivity that words could never express.
David stirred beside her. His hand slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. He pulled her close and his tongue teased the edges of her lips. An invitation. But it was time to get ready for work. That wasn’t what she wanted to do. His warm fingers moved softly over her breast and his kiss convinced her to stay. Sighing, she relaxed and her body molded to his.
Her phone dinged on the nightstand.
David quietly groaned. He had learned that when Sidney was off duty, she wasn’t really off duty. She pulled away from his arms and checked the name on the screen. It was her dispatcher. “Work,” she stated with a note of disappointment, and slid her finger across the screen. “Yeah, Jesse.”
“Hey, Chief. Looks like we got a homicide. Female. Probably Native American.”
Sidney bolted upright in bed. “Where?”
“In Whilamut Creek, near the bridge. Granger and your sister found the body. They were up there riding. Tommy Chetwoot is picking up Selena and taking her back to Two Creeks Village.”
“Granger’s out there alone?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay. Notify the M.E and his forensic tech. Have the fire and rescue team meet me at the station. Dr. Linthrope and Stewart will ride with me.”
Adrenaline racing, Sidney pecked David on the mouth and threw the covers aside. “Gotta run. Emergency.” She hurried into the spacious master bathroom, turned on the shower, and yanked on a big, floppy plastic cap that looked rid
iculous. But all she cared about was not getting her hair wet. It would freeze in this weather.
As she showered, she was aware of David’s presence in the room. When she stepped out, he wrapped a big, plush towel around her, and then quietly left. He had draped her uniform and undergarments over the chair in front of the vanity mirror, along with thick wool socks and snow boots.
She quickly dressed, pulled her hair into a ponytail, left the steamy bathroom, and crossed the living room with the stunning view of the lake. David’s modern-style house was modest compared to others on the lakeshore, but it had been upgraded with cherry wood cabinets, bamboo floors, and a cook’s kitchen with professional appliances. Extraordinary, that a man as handsome and charming as David was also a talented chef. He insisted on feeding her at every opportunity, and she was more than willing to comply. Pragmatic in nature, Sidney would have been happy to eat takeout and focus on his other talents.
She met him in the foyer.
Barefoot, hair tousled, dressed only in jeans that rode low on his lean hips, he stood by the front door holding out her bulky duty belt, which she strapped around her waist. Then he helped her wrestle into her burly winter jacket. Her gloves, scarf, and wool hat were in her vehicle. Where she was going, she would need them.
“Be careful out there.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
David pulled her close by her lapels. Their chests bumped and they laughed. He kissed her sweetly, then he opened the door and she burrowed down the steps through the falling snow to her Yukon parked in the driveway.
As she cranked up the heater and wipers, Sidney realized she and David had barely spoken a word since the call. They had their own means of communication, their own language, and he had left her with a smile that was meant to say, “I’m here, I understand what it means to be Police Chief of a small town, and I’ll do whatever I can to support you.” Five weeks ago, when she had walked into David’s art studio to seek his help on a murder case, she had no idea her life was about to radically change. His expertise in art symbology uncovered an important lead in the case. Their startling and immediate attraction to each other had led to these passionate afternoons in the haven of his home.
Sidney drove with caution to the station, trying to shake off the warm glow from David’s touch and morph into cop mode. She was grateful he hadn’t quizzed her about the phone call. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that a young woman had been murdered. Aside from an occasional domestic or DUI, the tribal members of Two Creeks Village kept a low profile and rarely stirred up trouble. Granger was on friendly terms with many of the elders. That trusted relationship would be critical when dealing with folks who didn’t trust law enforcement.
Equally distressing was the fact that her sister and Granger discovered the body. Emotionally fragile, her sister didn’t need this shock today. It could reset the initial trauma all over again.
Sidney focused on the ice-slick road. Garnerville rarely saw more than a few dustings of snow a season, and it usually melted by afternoon. The aggressive storms that had plowed through the county in the last three weeks made October the snowiest in recent Oregon history west of the Cascades. A good foot of snow had fallen, gripping the tri-town area in a frigid chill. Everything was layered in white and deep snowdrifts rippled across the yards. Large icicles hung from every eave like dragon’s teeth.
The townsfolk had greeted the extreme weather with a flurry of excitement. Bundled in warm clothing, parents towed children down sidewalks on sleds, kids built snowmen in their yards and hurled snowballs at anything that moved. The flipside to the winter wonderland was an increase in fender-benders and the small ER was jammed with patients who slipped on ice or threw their backs out shoveling snow.
As she drove through historical downtown headed for the highway, a few brave souls navigated the icy sidewalks, patronizing restaurants and gift shops. Life in Garnerville was unfolding as usual, oblivious to the woman who lay entombed in ice up in Whilamut creek.
And a murderer was walking free.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE SNOWMOBILE Selena straddled tunneled through the forest and shuddered over the rutted trail like a frightened pony. Two Creeks Village was five miles west of the highway on the opposite side of the lake from downtown Garnerville. Selena had never reached the village coming down from the mountain and she was completely disoriented. Tommy turned from the trail onto a plowed two-lane road. Through the trees she could see the metallic sheen of Lake Nenámooks under the low hanging ceiling of gray clouds. Giant oaks lined the narrow road, their gnarly branches linked at their crowns like gothic arches. This she remembered from years ago, though the trees had been leafy and the tangled canopy blocked out the hot summer sun.
Enveloped in the roar of the engine, the snowmobile glided past a general store, the Wildhorse Bar and Grill, a small school, a community center, and a few dozen houses on deeply wooded lots that hugged the shoreline. Tommy abruptly turned into a driveway and Selena spotted a log cabin that was half hidden in a grove of conifer trees. Adirondack chairs lined the covered porch, smoke curled from the chimney, and amber light wavered in one of the windows. Across a clearing, set against the backdrop of the shimmering lake, stood a two-car garage, a wood-planked shed, and a weathered barn with an empty corral. Stripped of all color, the stark-white world possessed an ethereal, frigid beauty.
Tommy parked in front of the cabin, climbed off, and offered Selena a hand. The wind came running at them from the northwest, blowing the snow and shaking the trees. Tegan rode past them and dismounted in front of the barn, then disappeared inside with the horses.
Though Selena was numb with cold and looked longingly at the cabin, she said to Tommy, “I should go help him with the horses.”
“He’s fine. Tegan’s an ace with animals. Let’s get you warm.”
Marveling that the blind boy was so capable, she caught a movement at the end of the house. When she shifted her glance, something large and white darted out of sight. Crows shot up out of the trees, screaming.
“A cougar…” she gasped.
“Oh, that’s just Lelou.”
A dog? A big dog. She was grateful when Tommy took her arm and helped her navigate the icy walkway. They pulled off their snow-caked boots on the porch and entered the afternoon darkness of the cabin. A fire burning low in the fireplace shot flickering shadows over the floor and walls. Selena made out simple furnishings: two easy chairs and a sofa in muted earth tones, and shelves filled with books, photos, pottery, and baskets. Off to one side, a worn oak table with mismatched chairs dominated the dining room. Dishes and cups were stacked in the hutch. The place smelled of wood smoke and freshly baked bread. Irresistibly, she was drawn to the river stone fireplace across the room and stood with her back to the flames. Tommy unwrapped the scarf from his head, removed his hat and coat and hung them on pegs by the door, then turned to face her.
Around forty, he was tall and lanky, and seemed almost too big for the room. His glossy black hair fell over his shoulders, framing a long face with a full mouth, bold nose, and strong cheekbones. A nice face. A kind face. His dark brown eyes were hollow with sorrow.
“Who is the dead girl?” A raspy voice with an Indian accent came from a dark corner. Selena flinched. Someone was there, in the shadows. A lamp flicked on and an old woman materialized, sitting stoop-shouldered in a straight-backed chair. She wore a long black dress adorned with strings of colorful beads and wiry white hair streamed over her shoulders. Her deeply grooved face was expressionless, except for dark, gleaming eyes that gazed out of slits, darting from Tommy to Selena with unnerving intensity.
“It’s Nikah,” Tommy said.
Neither spoke, but their expressions of grief pierced Selena to the core. For a moment, a long moment, she stood utterly still, feeling like an intruder, conscious suddenly of her weight on the wooden floor.
“I knew she would come to a bad end,” the old woman croaked. “I warned her.”
“Yeah, you did. Many times.”
Warned her of what, Selena wondered?
A long silence ensued.
“This is Selena,” Tommy finally said, with a gentle wave of his hand. “This is my grandma, Elahan.”
Selena crossed the space between them and extended her hand. Elahan’s claw-like, bony fingers grasped it fleetingly. A token gesture. The old woman’s hard stare held no warmth.
“Let me take your coat,” Tommy said.
Selena slipped off her gloves and hat, stuffed them in a pocket, and handed him her parka. Tommy hung her jacket then, noticing she was shivering, he placed another log on the fire and stoked the flames. Selena felt an immediate rise in temperature.
“You’ll warm up in a moment,” he said softly.
Selena glanced at Elahan, who sat perched in her chair like a crow on a branch, watching, unreadable.
The door opened with a burst of cold air and Tegan stood framed in the doorway, his walking stick gripped in one hand. A giant white dog with gleaming gold eyes hovered behind him. No, not a dog. A wolf!
The animal lowered his head, wrinkled his snout, and bared teeth that looked like they could rip off a limb in a heartbeat. A snarling growl sent a chill along Selena’s spine. Her fingers touched the hilt of her handgun beneath her sweater.
“It’s okay, Lelou. Selena’s a friend,” Tegan said forcefully, leaning his staff against the doorframe. The boy held the beast firmly by the collar and stroked his large, bristly head. “Down.” The wolf lowered himself to the rough wooden planks, his eyes still fixed on Selena.
Tegan’s head pivoted in her direction “Come let him smell you, Selena. Then he’ll be your friend.”
No way.
Tommy and the old lady watched her expectantly, waiting, as freezing air swept into the room. She swallowed, then slowly crossed the room and held out her fingers, hoping no one would see they were trembling.
Ignoring her hand, Lelou thrust out his neck, and she felt the heat of his moist breath on her groin as he sniffed. The wolf then sat back on his haunches and surprised her by extending a forepaw. After a moment of hesitation, Selena cupped the large paw in her hand. Tegan placed his smaller hand on top and the three made the motion of shaking hands. Lelou’s mouth curled back in what might be interpreted as a grin. The boy nodded, as though they were now partners in some secret covenant. Selena’s stomach muscles relaxed.