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Authors: Loreth Anne White

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BOOK: In the Barren Ground
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Tana’s face went hot.

“Just a moment—”

He fired.

CHAPTER 19

Heather’s head snapped up. “Gunshots,” she whispered.

Crash froze, spanner in hand.

Another crack. Followed by the sound of crows fluttering and dogs yelping. Crash set down his tools, came quickly out from behind the small chopper. He reached for his rifle propped against the wall of the creaking old structure that Heather rented from Crow TwoDove. She was already at the barn entrance.

“Shit,” she said, looking out of the door. “It’s old man Crow in a standoff with that Mountie. He’s going to kill her.”

Crash’s heart gave a small kick, and a sharp spurt of adrenaline flooded his blood. He hated it the instant he felt it—that old, fucking protective surge. That give-a-shit. Irritability bit into his chest as he came up to Heather’s side.

Tana stood in the snow-covered field in front of Crow’s house. Crow stood on the porch, shotgun aimed at the Mountie. She held both hands out to her sides to show that they were empty.

What in the hell . . . what did she want here?

“Put that gun down, Mr. TwoDove. I just want to talk to you.” She moved closer as she spoke, voice clear, strident.

“Jamie ain’t got nothing to do with what happened to those biologists!” Crow’s voice carried in the cold air. “White man’s police not welcome on my land. I don’t got to listen to your law. Your badge, uniform mean nothing to me.”

“Sir, please—”

“One step closer and I blow a hole right through your belly, feed you to those scavengers.” Up high, two raptors circled, either sensing a kill, or attracted by something else already dead on the property.

She took another step toward the house.

Shit
.

Crash stepped out of the barn, loaded rifle in hand. “You’re being an ass, Crow! Give the lady a chance—”

“Mounties had their chance three years ago. And look what happened—what they did to
me
, my family. Not on my life am I going to let that shit happen again.”

“She’s half Dogrib for Chrissakes, if
that
means anything to you.” Crash marched out into the field, coming between Tana and the old trapper-taxidermist. “She’s northern blood. Like you.”

Crow had enough Froot Loops short of a cereal bowl that he’d do it—he’d kill the cop. Or Crash would now take the slug, being in the direct line of fire, so what in the hell was he doing this for? But he knew. Deep down, he knew why he was standing here right now between a half-crazy man and a cop. Even though he didn’t want to go there, or articulate it. But if he let Crow kill this woman with an unborn child in her belly, an innocent little thing yet to be screwed over by life, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Not the second time around.

“She arrested Jamie,” yelled Crow. “She’s here about Jamie and the wolves and those biologists.” He spat into the snow off the deck.

“I’m not here for Jamie,” Tana called out. “I came for him, Crash O’Halloran. Mindy told me he was here. And I want to see where those biologists mixed their bear lure. Their teammates said they made it here. No blame. Just part of a routine report. It’s not a criminal investigation, okay?”

Christ, she was taking a step closer. Did she have a fucking death wish?

“Tana,” he growled, voice low. “Get your ass over here.”

She ignored him.

He surged forward, grabbed her by the arm. “Shut the fuck up about the lure,” he hissed. “Let me do the talking.”

“Get your hands off me.”

“I swear, he’ll kill you and leave you on his front lawn for those crows.”

She kept her eyes on TwoDove and his shotgun. He could feel her muscles wire-tight under her jacket sleeve, her body humming. Her energy flowed into him like an electrical current. She was setting him to her frequency, and he fought it, fought to keep his hard-won Zen. His devil-may-care, but he was losing.

“See, Crow?” Crash yelled. “I’ve got her. Now you go put that gun down, nice and slow. And I’ll take her from here, okay? I’ll take her into the barn. She can ask me whatever she needs. I’ll show her where Selena and Raj made the lure, then I’ll escort her off the property. All on me, okay?”

Her dogs were going crazy, yelping, barking, and jerking against leashes that had been secured to the ATV she’d parked at the entrance to the farm. Crow’s dog watched from under the deck, at the end of his rope, where the animal had dug itself a den to sleep both winter and summer.

TwoDove lowered his weapon. Spat again over the deck railing.

“Come with me,” Crash said, his voice low, mouth close to her ear. “Stay near. And just keep your mouth shut.”

She shot him a hard look. Her cheeks were pinked. Her dark eyes sparked. He could scent her soap, shampoo. Something trickier, dangerous, braided hot into his already pulsing adrenaline.

“You need to trust me, Tana,” he said quietly. Her eyes narrowed sharply at his use of her first name. “I don’t want this any more than you do. Just come into the barn. We can talk there.”

“Wouldn’t trust you if my life depended on it—”

“It does.”

Her brow crooked up in interest. “What’s his problem with the RCMP?”

“Just walk.”

CHAPTER 20

Tana fell grudgingly in step with O’Halloran as he steered her toward the old barn, her dogs still howling and straining against their leads. Her pulse raced. Her mouth was dry. She was shaking. In front of the barn door, snow had been trampled. She saw his truck now, parked around the side, alongside a quad.

“Crow once worked as a guide and wilderness skills teacher for the Twin Rivers culture camp,” O’Halloran said as they neared the old building. “He was instructing a course in the trapping and the dressing of small game the year a fifteen-year-old student went missing—”

Tana stopped in her tracks. “Dakota Smithers?”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Keep moving—barn,” he said. “Crow’s still got his weapon trained on you.” She clenched her jaw, allowing him to manhandle her toward safety. His body was up close against hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath. In this light his eyes were the palest green.

“A severe snowstorm hampered the search,” he continued. “Dakota was found dead two days later, mauled by animals. Elliot Novak was the cop in town at the time. His own kid had been killed by animals the previous year. He was looking to blame something other than wolves, so he started with Crow. Made it personal.”

“What do you mean, ‘personal’?”

They neared the barn entrance. Heather MacAllistair was leaning against the door, watching them approach. She wore a pale blue down jacket, jeans. One boot crossed over the other. Casual. Confident in her own body. Tana thought of what Mindy had said about them being sexual partners.

“Dakota’s mother, Jennie, told Elliot that Crow used to look at her daughter ‘funny,’ and she claimed Dakota had felt she was being stalked. That gave Elliot all the ammunition he needed to gun for Crow as a sexual pervert of some kind.”

Tana’s pulse quickened.

“Other kids then started coming forward at Elliot’s urging, and told him that Crow had looked at them funny, too. Long story short, nothing was proved. No signs of sexual abuse on what was left of Dakota’s body, which wasn’t much. But Crow lost his job and all respect that he might have had in this community. And Elliot was replaced. By that point it was clear he’d long lost the plot. After that, his wife left him, and he went into the bush.”

They entered the barn.

Inside was a small red helicopter, tiny thing, the bubble just taller than a man of average height, and just big enough to wedge two people in behind the controls, rotors pretty much right above their heads. Tana stared at it, MacAllistair’s words replaying in her mind.

I saw you out there on Friday, Crash. Saw your bird parked just on the other side of the cliff from where those kids were working . . .

At the back of the barn a ladder led up to a walled-off loft that overlooked the floor area. Flight suits and grease-stained coveralls hung from hooks along the wall near the base of the ladder, along with an assortment of farm implements and several large dry bags—the kind used for river rafting trips.

“Hey,” MacAllistair said from her position against the door, a glint of amusement in her big blue eyes. “See you got a shiner of your own.” She tilted her chin toward Tana’s bruised and stitched cheek.

Tana gave her a cursory nod, but the heat of her attention remained fixed on O’Halloran and what he was saying about Crow TwoDove. MacAllistair pushed herself off the doorjamb and followed them into the barn.

“Go on,” Tana insisted. “Why did Dakota’s mother press this angle?”

O’Halloran inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of white breath out into the cold. “She had a hard time processing her daughter’s death, too. She didn’t
want
to believe it was an accident. Which fed into Elliot’s obsession. They enabled each other. But, bottom line, Dakota’s COD was equivocal.”

“COD,” she repeated, her gaze tunneling into him. “Equivocal?”

“Death—cause of death,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t clear what killed her. Only that bears, wolves, and other scavengers had picked her pretty much clean after the fact.”

“I know what COD means,” she said, eyes remaining locked on his. He swallowed. She saw the tattoo on his neck move. “You watch too much crime television, or did I just miss when using ‘COD’ and ‘equivocal’ in the same sentence became common lay speak?”

“What are you looking for, Constable, what are you really driving at? What’s firing
your
crusade?”

MacAllistair watched them with keen interest while she pretended to busy herself with tools behind the chopper. Irritation flared through Tana’s adrenaline.

“Heather,” she said quietly, “could you please give me a moment alone with Crash?”

MacAllistair raised her brows, glanced at O’Halloran. “Well, maybe you should take a ticket and stand in line, Constable. Crash was just showing me—”

“I’ve got it, Heather. I’ll finish off later.” O’Halloran jerked his head toward a door at the rear of the barn. “Let’s take a walk around the back, shall we, officer?” His voice was even cooler now. “I’ll show you where those eco-kids mixed their lure, then you can get back to your nice warm—safe—office.”

Her jaw tightened. Her eyes held his. Something hot crackled unspoken between them. “Show the way, then,” she said, her tone equally cool.

They exited through the rear door, and O’Halloran led her past a paddock in which two skinny horses chewed hay under the cover of a shelter. The scent of them was strong. But then Tana realized the pungent odor was more likely coming from the pigpen they passed next. Snow squeaked under their boots. Eagles wheeled up high.

He took her down to a clearing near the river. “Over there, upriver, is where Jamie lives.” He jerked his chin toward a little log cabin nestled under conifers. “And down that way,” he tipped his head in the opposite direction, “is the lure shed.”

Tana started toward the shed. He followed, still carrying his rifle. The shed was indeed reinforced with galvanized steel, and padlocked. She snapped a few photos with her phone. On a peg outside the shed hung what looked like stained fisherman’s waders. In front of the shed was a metal drum, and a fire pit.

“They mixed the lure sludge in that drum there, poured it into containers, and kept those locked in the shed,” he said. “In these temperatures it’s like keeping it in a freezer. But there is a generator-powered chest freezer inside the shed, and that’s where they stored the jerry cans during summer. They only used fresh stuff from Crow. He gets extremely regular business from the lodge, and always has a supply. It’s not as weird as it seems.”

She jiggled the padlock. “Where’s the key?”

“I wouldn’t go asking Crow for keys right now.”

She inhaled, tamping her frustration down. If need be, she could find a way to return.

Tana took a few more photos, one of the padlock, others of the drum and fire pit. Cold temperatures or not, the place stank.

“Did Selena Apodaca meet Jamie TwoDove here?”

“I guess. What difference does it make?”

She didn’t answer. She walked a short way down to the river, getting her bearings.

“So, what did you want with me?” he called down to her. “You told Crow you came here for me.”

She walked back up to him. “You own a red AeroStar like that one in the barn?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you land it on the northeast side of the cliff at the north end of Ice Lake on Friday, November second?”

His face darkened. “Heather suggest this?”

“Were you there, or not?”

“I was not.”

“Who else has a red two-seater AeroStar craft like the one back in that barn?”

“Apart from Heather—I don’t personally know of anyone else. Could have come from anywhere. A chopper can cover vast distances, officer. People use helicopters and planes out here like urban dwellers use cars. Only way to get around most of the time.”

His patronizing tone rankled.

“Where were you, then, on the afternoon of Friday, November second?”

“What’s this got to do with a wildlife attack? It’s not a criminal investigation.”

“Should it be?”

His eyes slanted to an angry angle. The energy crackling off him became tangible.

“I was doing a supply run.”

“For who?”

A muscle started to pulse along his jawline. “For Alan Sturmann-Taylor at Tchliko Lodge. It’s a regular gig. Couple of times a week when the weather is good.”

“Supplies from where?”

“Depends on his requirements.”

“Whole day Friday?”

“Whole afternoon.”

“Sturmann-Taylor can vouch for you?”

“Flight logs, too. Speak to him. Fill your boots, Constable. Are we done here?”

She looked away, her mental wheels turning. The wind shifted suddenly, kicking up a fine, white dervish of ice crystals. It whirled over the land toward the forest boundary. And Tana just could not help what came out of her mouth next.

“I saw Mindy,” she said. “In your house. Dressed in what was probably your pajama shirt. Stank of alcohol.” Her eyes bored into his. “I want you to know, O’Halloran, I find out you’re hurting that girl, I swear I’m going to nail you for this. Hard. You’re going to go down, no matter how long it takes me.”

His shoulders squared, and his gaze locked with hers. His eyes narrowed further and his jaw went tight.

“I don’t do PJs,” he said, very quietly. “I sleep naked.” He paused, letting that visual sink in. “I’d suggest you come around one night and check it out for yourself, because for a while there I reckoned you’d make a pretty decent lay, and I figured I was going to try, but right now I’m getting kinda pissed off with your angle here. So get this straight. First, the liquor. I don’t sell to kids, got that? And if it’s not me flying illegal booze in, it’s gonna be someone else. A demand will always be met. But there’s also a system out here, and this system doesn’t sell to minors. Whoever crossed that line with little Charlie, you have at him. Or her. And I’ll help you fuck the bastard up. But don’t make a mistake here, officer, by making enemies of the wrong people.” He held her eyes. “Because you’re going to need allies.”

Fire burned in Tana’s throat. Her hands fisted in her gloves.

“And, second, I don’t fornicate with minors. Got it?”

She blinked. Anger bled into her cheeks. Wind gusted. Cold. Her eyes started to water.

“So, is there anything else left that you’d like to cover before I show you safely off this property?”

Words eluded her.

“Fine, then let’s go.” He started to walk away. She remained stationary. He turned, irritated. “I’m not kidding. Crow
will
kill you.”

“Why?” she said. “Why even bother with the ‘safe escort’ bravado shit? Why not just let him shoot me and be done?”

“This a trick question?”

She weighed him, trying to measure, understand him.

He took a step back toward her. “Let me guess something,” he said, coming too close, looking down into her face, his voice low, soft. It made her swallow, and this appeared to please him by the glimmer she detected in his eyes. “You know girls like Mindy, and you know them very, very well, don’t you, Tana? Because I think you’ve been there. You were a girl just like Mindy. Men didn’t treat you very nicely, and now it’s payback time, right? Maybe you even did some of your own time at the deep, dark bottom of a bottle of liquor when you were far too young. And
that
is where this burr under your saddle comes from.
That’s
why you’re gunning for me.”

Heat burned high on her cheeks. Her heart began to gallop all over again.

“Am I right, Constable?”

“Fuck you, O’Halloran,” she whispered, her body trembling with outrage. “I’m going to speak to Mindy, her parents—”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Because it’s her father who’s abusing her and her mother refuses to admit this to herself. And that’s why the kid’s at my house. And before you go thinking of flying in some social worker for backup, know this—no one is going to voice any complaint to a government outsider. Not Mindy, nor her parents. No one in this community. No complaint—no proof of abuse.”

She stared.

“Be careful,” he said. “Very careful. You might think you know the game out here, but like I told you, this place has its own rules.”

A kestrel screamed up high.

“And before you come accusing me of abusing children again, you think about that one you’re carrying.”

Shock ripped through Tana. Her eyes burned. “You heard,” she whispered. “Last night, you heard me and Addy when you brought the soup.”

“Yeah. And maybe
that’s
why I bother with the ‘safe escort shit,’” he said, taking her arm. “Crow can shoot you for all I care, but you’re being an ass about your kid, and I’m not going to stand by watching some innocent baby die.”

He steered her back toward the barn. She jerked out of his hold. “Fuck you. I can do this myself.”

“Tana, Crow will—”

“Just don’t the fuck touch me, okay.” She marched back to the barn ahead of him, her whole body shaking inside. This man had just stripped her butt-naked with his words. He saw right into her, and through her. Tana wanted to throw up. She hated him more than anything in this world right now for being right, and being a fucking jackass about it. But deeper down, she knew the real source of her vitriol was her hatred for herself.

BOOK: In the Barren Ground
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