Chilling Effect (15 page)

At the moment, Aroostine’s concern was not for the emotional

distress that might someday befall those video game playing boys,

but for her and Joe, alone on the run under an endless sky.

Joe. She wondered how he was faring. Whether he was success-

ful or not, he’d likely be returning from the stream soon. Th e light was fading quickly now. She roused herself to action.

She stood and walked to a thicket of long grasses and shrubs to

the left of the fi re pit. She plucked several long cattails and weeds for tinder and fl uff ed them in her hands until the material formed a loose cloud. She wove in some long grass and scraps of bark she’d 113

MELISSA F. MILLER

picked up along with the kindling then placed the little nest of

material in the center of the hollowed-out pit. She separated the

kindling sticks into the thin slivers she would use to start the fi re and the thicker branches she would add once she had a blaze started.

Remembering her grandfather’s long-ago caution to use slow, sure

movements, she piled the sticks around the ball of tinder, propping the sticks against each other so they formed a tent over the tinder.

She worked out from the center, adding the larger, heavier branches in a constant, careful rhythm.

She rarely thought about her adoptive parents when she was

in the woods—they weren’t outdoorsy people—but the process of

building the fi re reminded her of building houses of cards with her father when she was home sick from school with strep throat. She’d

been bored, tired of being stuck in bed, but had been too drained

to do much else. He’d shown up in her room with a deck of playing

cards and proceeded to teach her how to carefully place the cards so as to construct ever taller and more sturdy houses. She could see his long, steady fi ngers placing each card with precision and then hover-ing, still, for a moment while she held her breath to see if it would stay or if the entire structure would go tumbling down.

Now her hands were suspended, just as his had been, over the

teepee shape she’d built around the tinder. She waited. Waited.

Th e sticks held. She exhaled slowly and went off in search of two stones and Joe, holding thoughts of her grandfather and her adoptive father in the same space in her mind. It felt right, surprisingly.

Joe heard footsteps approaching from behind. He craned his neck

and saw Aroostine making her way down the steeply sloped bank.

“Hey.” He gestured toward the three rainbow trout still fl ipping

intermittently on the ground beside him.

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CHILLING EFFECT

“Hey, yourself. Wow, I’m impressed.”

He grinned. He was, too, to tell the truth. He hadn’t had much

confi dence in his ability to catch a single fi sh with his hands, let alone three, but it hadn’t taken long. Th e front of his shirt was sop-ping wet but he’d managed to snag—and, more importantly, hang

on to—three medium-sized trout.

“Yeah, although I think that’s all she wrote. I haven’t seen

another fi sh in several minutes.”

“Th ree’s plenty.”

“Th at’s kind of what I fi gured.” He glanced down at the fi sh,

which appeared to have taken their last gasping breaths. “So, now

what?”

She fl ashed him an apologetic smile. “Well, fi rst I need to fi nd two rocks to serve as my fl int and steel. While I’m doing that, can you look for a really sharp rock on the bottom of the stream, something we can use to take their heads off ?”

“Sure.”

“And a big fl at one that we can use as a pan.”

He nodded then pushed his already wet sleeves up farther and

started feeling around on the stream bed. Aroostine moved slightly

downstream and squatted near the water’s edge. She stuck her hands in the water and pulled up two clumps of rocks then began to sift through them, discarding those she deemed unsuitable in a pile to her left.

“You’re really going to start a fi re by banging two rocks together?”

“I really am.”

Joe had learned not to doubt his wife when it came to matters

of nature, but the idea sounded so far-fetched, like something out

of a bad movie, that he felt his mouth twist into a knot of disbelief.

She caught his look and laughed. Her breath rustled her long

bangs, pushing them away from her face.

“Th ere’s no magic to it. Flint is pretty much any one of a cou-

ple diff erent hard quartz rocks. Some people call it chert.” She sifted 115

MELISSA F. MILLER

through several large rocks in her hand. “Out here, it looks like jasper is pretty common.”

She pulled an irregular quadrilateral of mottled red and green

from the pile and held it out for him to see. Th e fading sun glinted off it and gave it a glow.

“It’s pretty.”

“It is. But I’m not sure it’s sharp enough.” She tested the jagged

edge on her fi nger and scrunched up her nose. “I guess it’ll do if I don’t fi nd something better.”

He sorted through her cache of rejected rocks and found a dark

gray stone shaped almost like an arrowhead. “Th is looks like a good fi sh knife.”

She glanced up. “Do want me to help you clean them?”

Yes.

“No. I’ll fi gure it out.”

“You sure?”

He grinned at her, hoping he projected a confi dence he didn’t

feel. “I’m sure. I mean, I doubt they’ll pass muster in a fancy restaurant, but I’ll get the scales off and the guts out. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.” He started to walk away but she snagged the elbow of

his shirt and pulled him back. “Can I borrow your watch?”

He unclasped the bracelet and handed the heavy stainless-steel

watch to her.

“Here you go.”

“Th anks. I’ll try not to break it.”

He turned back. “Break it? What are you going to do with it?”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes with the back of her free

hand. “I’m not seeing much pyrite, just little slivers inside larger rocks. Jasper is a suffi cient fl int—well, chert, but close enough—but I need a steel. Your watch is perfect.” She hefted it, obviously satisfi ed by its weight in her hand.

He hesitated. She’d given him that watch just six weeks ago on

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CHILLING EFFECT

their anniversary. He loved it because it was waterproof and uncom-

plicated, sleek and dependable. And because every time he checked

the time, he thought of her.

“Joe. It’s just a thing.”

He could have guessed that she’d say something like that. She

was as unsentimental as she was honest and generous.

“I know.”

She must have heard the petulant tone that crept into his voice

because she paused in her rock hunting and took a moment to do

nothing but look into his eyes.

Finally, she said, “I’ll be as careful as I can. And if I give it back to you with a dent or a ding, well, then you’ll have a new memory

to carry around.” She smiled gently.

He felt his own mouth twitch and al owed the grin to take hold.

“Okay.”

He strode over and lifted the fi sh from the ground. She took the

jasper and his watch and headed back up the embankment.

“Good luck,” she called over her shoulder as he contemplated

the trout’s head, with his sharp rock in hand.

Aroostine sighed and scooted closer to Joe. Th e sigh was one of pure contentment.

A good-sized fi re blazed in the pit, the fl ames refl ecting off the wall of the rock outcropping that would serve as their bedroom

and warming her face. Th e smoky fi sh fl aked apart in her fi ngers and tasted like heaven. With her belly full, a safe place to sleep, her husband beside her, and a starry sky overhead, she smiled out

into the black, still woods. Th e wilderness felt like a pair of protective arms rather than an ominous danger, comforting rather than

frightening.

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MELISSA F. MILLER

Joe shoveled a hunk of fi sh into his mouth and gave her a curi-

ous sidelong glance as he chewed it.

“What are you thinking?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’re happier out here than

you were in Central Oregon’s swankiest resort.”

She considered her response for a moment before answering.

“I am.”

He leaned toward her, and the fi relight highlighted his face.

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. I’m not perfectly happy because I’m worried about

Ruby, about Lily, about those blasted drones that may or may not

have gone missing, but you’re right. Th ere’s something about being outside, away from civilization, that just feels
right
, deep in my
right

bones.” It was her turn to look at him questioningly. “But, you

know that. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“It’s not a secret that you like to hike or just sit out under a tree or whatever, sure. Or even go camping. But this . . . this is some

primitive camping, Roo. We’re using our fi ngers to eat fi sh that I caught with my hands and you cooked on a rock. I mean, think

about that?”

She smiled. “Not only that. We’re about to go to sleep on a bed

of long grass and weeds covered with leaves.”

“Yeah, exactly my point. Th at’s a far cry from a pillowtop mat-

tress and Egyptian cotton sheets.”

“Agreed. But it’ll be just you, me, and the crickets under this

big sky. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

A smile played across his face. “Depends on what you have in

mind.”

“We’ll let this fi re die down, and then I’ll show you exactly what I’m thinking,” she said, her voice thick with promise.

She drove thoughts of the reservation, Sid, the drones, the dead

man—all of it—from her mind. Tonight she wanted to couple with

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Joe in the heart of Mother Earth, the way her ancestors had since

the beginning of time, the way a man and woman were meant to.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” His voice sounded as husky as hers,

full of longing.

He snugged an arm around her and pulled her closer. She closed

her eyes, leaned into the warmth of his chest, and inhaled deeply,

fi lling her lungs with the crisp night air.

If her spirit animal was lurking around somewhere out in the

shadows, watching them with its liquid silver eyes, she fervently

hoped it would leave her alone until morning.

119

Th e sound of Ruby’s temperamental old car wheezing its way down

the road broke the silence of the overnight hours. Boom blinked

himself awake on the couch and tucked his shirttails back into place.

By the time Ruby knocked softly on her front door, he had his shoes on and his hair smoothed down. Even in the middle of the night, it

was important to appear presentable, respectable.

He slid the chain and unlocked the newly installed deadbolt.

He pulled the door inward and stepped aside to let her pass.

“How was she?” she whispered.

“She had a snack around eight, brushed her teeth, and settled

into bed. I told her the story of Th underbird, the creation tale, and she was snoring before I reached the part where I explained why we

must always slit the salmon down their backs.”

Ruby graced him with a tired smile.

“Th ank you, Boom.”

CHILLING EFFECT

He put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “You don’t need to thank

me, Ruby. Part of living within the circle means you don’t need to do everything alone. Remember that.”

She nodded and stifl ed a yawn. Th en she reached out a hand to

steady herself against the wal while she eased her feet out of her stilettos.

“I left some stew warming on your stove in case you’re hungry. I’ll come over the same time tomorrow?” he asked as he headed toward

the door.

“I’ll let you know.”

He turned, his hand on the door. “Oh?”

She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, smearing her eyeliner.

“Yeah. I can’t do this much longer. I was a nervous wreck at

work, worrying that Lee was going to turn up and tell me he needed

to talk to me. Every time I saw one of his security goons, my hands started to shake. If I keep spilling drinks like I did tonight, I’m not going to have a job.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to call the Department of Justice in the morning.”

He cocked his head but didn’t speak.

“Even if Aroostine’s gone for good, she already reached out to

her boss—Sid Somebody or Other. He said he’d help us, so I’m going

to hold him to it.”

Boom noted the fi re that sprang to life in her eyes and held his

tongue. It wouldn’t do to argue with Ruby when she had her mind

set on something.

“All the same,” he said mildly. “Even the Justice Department

can’t work miracles. I’ll plan to watch Lily tomorrow unless I hear otherwise from you.”

Once she realized he didn’t plan to try to dissuade her, her jaw

relaxed and she nodded. “I appreciate that. And you’re probably

right—I doubt the government will move that quickly.”

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MELISSA F. MILLER

He opened the door. “Th ey rarely do, daughter. Unless they’re

taking something from us—in that case, they spring faster than a

cheetah. Lock this behind me.”

“Good night.”

He walked out into the dark and took in the starry sky above.

He stepped off the porch and wondered if Aroostine was looking

up at the same sky. Behind him, he heard Ruby slide the lock into

place with a click.

122

Aroostine woke, chilled but rested, when the fi rst early rays of light streamed into the shelter.

She’d slept soundly, a dreamless sleep that had also been free of