a couple of logs onto the fire and then pointed to a cluster of lights on the other side of the shore. “That’s the town over there. Tomorrow morning, if it’s clear, you’ll be able to see the reservation on the left.”
As the kids gathered for a glimpse of Dagger Lake, he rummaged through his cabinets and located a couple of bags of chips. He set them on the counter next to a jug of orange juice and a stack of plastic cups. “Make yourselves at home. I have a few things to do outside, but I’ll work on supper as soon as I get back.” Five minutes inside a one-bedroom cabin with seven noisy teenagers, and he was more than ready for another walk with Lou in the brisk night air.
The snow was still coming down hard, and a sharp north wind had buried the remnants of their footprints under heavy drifts. Not for the first time, Gideon was thankful for the insulating layers of clothing he was wearing underneath his parka. He had learned early the benefits of trapping his body warmth to keep his core at a comfortable temperature, even when it was below zero.
He’d been five when he experienced his first North Dakota winter, a city boy unaccustomed to the harsh winds and cold temperatures of the northern plains. His father’s unexpected passing had left his Sioux mother shattered and bereft, so it fell on her brother, a tribal elder, to take his nephew under his wing. And thirty years later, those early life lessons still remained a part of Gideon’s daily routine.
Slipping a high-beam flashlight from his pocket, he flicked it on, even though it didn’t look like he was going to need it to help him find his way. The sun had set an hour ago, but the moonshine reflected against a ceiling of light clouds cast a polished brightness on the snow.
In places, the drifts were several feet deep, but he made quick time as he covered the distance between the cabin and the ridge. It was familiar territory. He and Lou hiked this path almost every day. He couldn’t recall a time when his loyal shepherd wasn’t ready for a walk, and tonight was no exception. Lou might be over-the-hill when compared to his canine colleagues at the DEA, but in many ways, he still seemed like an energetic puppy, always ready to play. But at the moment, Lou stuck close beside him, almost as if he recognized that this particular trek was for work and not pleasure.
As Gideon reached the top of the ridge, he stopped for a moment to enjoy the sharp bite of bitter cold that always made him feel especially alive. This was his favorite time of the year, even though these short days of mid-December held the promise of even chillier weather in the weeks to come. Usually, when he got to this point in his walk, he would hear the gentle hum of traffic on the road ahead. But because of the travel advisory, most people had opted to stay inside for the night. Except... Now, that was odd. A tan SUV with tinted windows and a cracked bumper was parked on the shoulder, its engine idling.
His suspicions clicked to high alert as he approached the vehicle. When he was two feet away, the driver’s-side door opened, and a bald man in a navy windbreaker stepped out.
“Hey,” the man said. “Quite the night for a walk, eh?”
“It’s cold,” Gideon agreed as he bent to look at the passenger inside the car. Clean-shaven, stocky build, probably not much of a talker if he were to guess from the man’s gloomy countenance. “Do you gentlemen need help?”
“Nope. We’re fine.” The guy in the navy windbreaker dismissed his concerns with a flick of the wrist. “We’re in from Fargo, but we didn’t expect this much snow cover on the highway.”
“You might want to head home and try back later. The storm’s still blowing in, so it’ll be rough for a while.”
“Thanks,” the driver said. “Appreciate the advice.” He slid behind the wheel and did a U-turn on the tarmac.
Gideon watched the taillights of the SUV disappear down the road. When it was completely out of sight, he made his way down the embankment toward the van. His eyes fixed on the rear bumper of the disabled vehicle. The V-shaped fold in the center matched the crack he had noticed on the front of the SUV, a fact he filed away for later consideration.
Using a blade from his pocketknife, he pried open the lock on the gate of the trunk. The kids had taken most of their gear when they left for the cabin, but a few random personal items and bits of trash remained. He tossed a notebook and a bag of Twizzlers into the back seat and whistled for Lou. The shepherd jumped into the cargo hold and began sniffing at the floor. Good thing he was trained to ignore food smells. Wrappers and stained paper napkins were scattered everywhere. But Lou was as single-minded as he was tenacious. His nose twitched as he pawed the top of one of the cardboard boxes that had been shoved toward the back of the trunk.
“What’s in there, boy?” he asked as he reached over and slid open the flap of a box marked BIBLES FOR THE RESERVATION. The pleasant scent of new books assailed his nostrils, and for a minute, he entertained the notion that Lou had been mistaken.
He should have known better. Underneath the top layer of Bibles, a dozen or so plastic bags of loose powder formed a soft white nest. His stomach dropped. Even though this was what he’d been expecting, he had hoped for a different outcome. Packets of loose white powder always meant the same thing. Drugs. He fumbled in his pocket and located his phone, which he used to snap a dozen or so pictures of the stash. Good thing he still had a narcotics identification kit at the cabin. He’d test the powder when he got home, but his gut told him it was cocaine. He loaded the packets into his oversize backpack and shoved the box back where he had found it. This wasn’t the way they did things back at the DEA, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
At least he was wearing gloves.
His ears still upright, Lou nudged a second box and then a third one. The contents were all the same. Anger surged through Gideon’s body like a flame. Even now, two years off the job, the sight of such a huge cache of drugs filled him with revulsion. And fear. There was enough white powder in the back of the van to make someone desperate enough to kill.
“This place is awesome,” Josh exclaimed. “All the furniture is supersized.”
“Mr. Marshall has good taste,” Mary Kate agreed as she ran her fingers along the cushion of one of the leather sofas in the center of the room. “And look how the gold design of the rug matches the rest of the decor.”
“But there’s no TV,” Gabe pointed out.
“And no Christmas tree, either.” Annalise complained. “You’d think with all the pines around here it wouldn’t be that hard to chop one down.”
“Speaking of trees, did anyone notice the massive pile of wood by the barn?” Josh asked. “It must have taken hours to split all those logs.”
“I don’t think it was a problem.” Joe flexed his biceps in a show of solidarity with their host. “Did you see his arms? He must work out constantly to have muscles that size.”
“Let’s take a break from the personal analysis of our host and review the plan.” Dani blushed self-consciously as she glanced nervously at the door. She had also noticed Gideon’s strong arms, but it would be embarrassing if he walked in and overheard any part of their conversation, especially the comments concerning his physique.
“When do you think we’ll get to the reservation?” Lucy asked. “I can’t wait to see all the kids we met last summer.”
“Soon, I hope.”
