Carnosaur Crimes Page 11

  And he looked absolutely, positively pissed.

  Chapter 14

  “One ‘Take this’ is better than two ‘I gives.’”

  Unknown Southwest Tribe

  “Tell me everything you’ve done,” Reid demanded. “No lies, no half-truths.”

  Ansel swallowed the lump in her throat. She sat in his passenger seat looking through the front windshield at a Sidney convenience store where a field littered with bottles and trash, an overflowing dumpster, and scavenging grackles provided the view. That was better than a side window shot of the cedar-shingled QUIK-PIK studded with neon beer signs and loitering Indians who crossed the North Dakota line ten miles away looking for work or booze.

  Ansel fingered her Iniskim and watched an Indian man wearing holey jeans and shirt gulp down a beer and stagger toward the dumpster. She winced inside. She’d had her own minor battles with liquor. Booze had always clouded her judgement where men were concerned and sent her into a downward spiral of self-pity.

  After cornering her inside Earthly Pleasures, Reid had ordered her to wait in her truck until he finished questioning Yancy. Then he’d stomped to her driver’s window and gruffly commanded her to follow him. He’d picked this wretched, depressing place to scold her.

  Ansel tried to focus on the bright side. Reid was angry but going to listen to what she had to say for a change and he smelled good, a bittersweet combination of musky cologne and male sweat. It was also kind of cozy being together even if the police radio crackled out garbled code alerts while tepid air conditioning blasted their faces like a desert zephyr.

  “Of course,” she said, fixing him with a serious stare. “I thought you were gone.”

  “Hokay. Lie number one. Not a good start,” Reid huffed. “Three strikes, you’re out.”

  “Not everything’s my fault. ”

  Reid’s eyes went squinty. “Lie number two.”

  Ansel flopped against the seat. “All right. It’s a long story. First there was Agent Outerbridge,” she began, then explained in detail about being flown into the Badlands and shown the destroyed fossil T-Rex. Except for grinding his teeth like an ornery stallion, Reid was quiet until she told him Outerbridge wanted her to join his sting operation.

  “What?”

  “I haven’t agreed to anything. Outerbridge will contact me again and give his sales pitch.”

  “When?”

  “I have no idea. He needs me because I look Indian and know dinosaurs.”

  “He’s got LaPierre for chasing down fossils,” Reid said thoughtfully. “Why the tribal link?”

  “Dixie mentioned that I’d be working with Agent Standback, and he’s Indian, too.”

  “So was our poacher. I’ll get back to the subject of Outerbridge. What’s the next adventure you had after the FBI meeting?”

  “I had a run in with Agent Broderick this morning.”

  “Go on.”

  Ansel relayed how she’d gone to the museum to look at the riverbed and her Allosaurus model. Reid stared and let her ramble. Probably thought she’d spill more info that way than by interrogating her, Ansel decided.

  “When I was looking at the Allosaurus, Broderick showed up. He was pretty nasty, Reid. He threatened to arrest me but issued me a citation for driving off-road on BLM land instead.”

  “You were lucky he didn’t lock you up and toss the key.”

  “Thanks a lot. Broderick will do that if he catches me again, but what he really wanted to do was question me. He also became a physical threat.”

  Reid’s face finally registered another emotion besides calm disgust. Concern knitted his brow. “In what way?”

  “Muscled his smirking mug right into my face, that’s what. Said he knew that I’d been talking to Outerbridge and demanded to know what was going on. When I refused to tell him, he almost lost it. He’s crazy because he thinks the sheriff’s department and the FBI are trying to steal the thunder from his big poaching case. He said he’d be watching me.”

  Ansel peered into his eyes. “It was pretty hairy for a few moments. I told him to get out of my way or I’d raise hell about it to everyone who would listen. He backed down, and I got out of there fast.”

  Reid was looking into her eyes as well. His face softened dramatically before he placed his right hand on hers, which rested on her lap. “I’ll take care of Broderick,” he said in his authoritative detective voice. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  Reid’s hand was very warm, and an electric heat surged up Ansel’s arm. This was the first time that Reid had ever touched her in a truly personal way. Sure, he herded her around by the elbow or shoulder all the time while getting her out of his hair, but this was different. More friend and protector than dutiful cop. His voice may have been all business, but his expression and his body language said something else. And she didn’t mind at all.

  When she smiled at him, Reid drew his hand away and straightened up in the driver’s seat, suddenly realizing that he’d been leaning toward her in a very unprofessional way. He swiped a hand through his brown, slightly spiky hair.

  “So, how did you end up at Earthly Pleasures, Ansel?”

  “I found out where the other fossil robberies occurred.”

  “And how did you do that?”

  “Ranger Eastover told me.”

  He glared at her. “And when were you going to tell me?”

  “When you told me that you knew the Indian poacher had eaten at Humpy’s before trying to steal the tracks,” she countered. “All that crap about wanting a buffalo tongue sandwich was a lie so don’t give me a speech about honesty and sharing information for mutual benefit.”

  Ansel glared back at him and was pleased to see him squirm in his seat. He cocked his head sideways and cleared his throat. “You’ve made your point, but that wasn’t a definite lead. That was a hunch I still haven’t verified through the lab. So you went where with Eastover’s information and did what exactly?”

  “I went to the Glendive Community College and spoke with Dean Knowles first. He told me about the theft of a T-Rex foot on display in the library, but didn’t see any Indian’s hanging around before or after. He also told me about Hillard Yancy’s break-in at the Sidney shop. That’s why I went there.”

  “And what did Yancy tell you?” he prodded.

  “He denied selling fossils that he couldn’t back up with paperwork or knowing anything about a local black-market. Still there’s a lot of money tied up in the pomp and glitz of his store. The fossil inventory alone is staggering. I’m wondering where all that financial backing is coming from,” Ansel admitted. “Plus Knowles thinks Yancy is nothing but a fossil plunderer chipping down the walls of scientific knowledge because of greed.”

  “I’ll rake through both their backgrounds with a curry comb. You can count on that.”

  Ansel’s gaze gravitated toward the Indians outside. During the last year, she’d been cutting back on her drinking. Alcoholism ran in her mother’s family genes like a poison, especially through relatives living on the Blackfeet Reservation in Browning. She loved her heritage, but had to admit that most of her driven behavior came from trying to outrun the inherent social pressures of being a Native American. Still her personal decisions were her own.

  Ansel swivelled toward Reid. “Listen, I’m going to hear Outerbridge out on his sting operation, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “I don’t plan to. I want you to help Outerbridge.”

  “You’re not going to argue?”

  “No. I also want you to tell me what the FBI is up to. I expect a full report when you get back from the meeting as well as any other activities you engage in with the Feebees.”

  Ansel stared a few seconds before responding. “You want me to be a spy?”

  Reid shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned. “I’m a realist. Outerbridge has shut my department out. You keep me informed about the sting, and I’ll tell you what I learn about the Indian from my out-of-town source
. We’ll collaborate, and you’ll have the added bonus of me watching your back in case you get in too deep.

  “Sounds like coercion rather than mutual trust. It stinks.”

  Reid shook his head. “You just don’t give up, do you? What are you always trying to prove with this Miss Independent routine?”

  “Nothing. I want to know who that poacher was. The future of the museum depends on a positive resolution from the legal fallout of that attempted robbery. The FBI holds all the cards, and Broderick’s an idiot. Your department hasn’t identified the thief either. Time is wasting. Don’t be mad because I’m willing to follow up any clue, no matter how farfetched it seems, in order to save the museum.”

  “When are you going to get it through your head that this is dangerous?” Reid exploded at her. “You want to end up with a Teflon bullet through your chest or captured by a group of international criminals who’d use you up and throw you away like a disposable cup? How about some intelligent and rational thought here? For once, let somebody help you, Ansel. I’ll get you the answers you want, and you’ll live to do something with them. After what’s happened to Chief Flynn, I’d think you would get the message.”

  That brought her up short. “What did you say?”

  His expression was dubious. “Don’t tell me Big Toe’s master sleuth doesn’t know that Flynn has been missing since last night? It’s been all over the radio and TV stations.”

  “No, I didn’t. I was on a desert bluff yesterday evening and left Lacrosse County this morning. Broderick didn’t say a word to me about it,” Ansel fumed. “What’s happened?”

  “Flynn worked his usual shift on Sunday and left the police station around eight o’clock in the evening. He never got home. Nobody knew about it until Mrs. Flynn called the station looking for him at eleven p.m. Flynn’s just dropped off the earth. No sign of him or his green SUV. We do know that he spent the day before his disappearance chasing down leads about the poacher. Sheriff Combs is about to call in the state police to help with the search.”

  “You think he found the poachers and got in trouble?” Ansel queried.

  “That’s what we think. Flynn wouldn’t disappear like this. He’s an excellent officer. Experienced and reliable.”

  She couldn’t believe it. She’d known Cullen and his family since she was a little girl when they’d attended many parties at her parents’ ranch. Those were the days when her mother had been alive. Cullen, had been there the Thanksgiving day she’d almost drowned to death.

  In fact, she’d been underwater for forty minutes before the EMTs arrived, then rushed to the hospital where she was miraculously revived. The extremely cold temperatures of the pond water had shocked her body into a state of hibernation-like coma and ultimately saved her life.

  The irony was, she’d almost died from complications; bacteria-laced water caused an infection in her lungs that took weeks to abate. The residual side-affects had been more insidious. Her entire life was spent battling chronic anxiety attacks triggered by the most innocuous sights, sounds, scents or touch of water.

  Just thinking about the incident whirl pooled her memories to the surface. She saw a vision of the large snow-covered stock pond. Her breathing quickened, then her heartbeat. She remembered the feel of frigid wetness squeezing her skin. The slippery, unyielding hardness of ice beneath her tiny hands.

  “You’re right,” she managed to say. “Flynn would never put his family through that.” She dug into her purse. “Take this. I found it at the dinosaur dig site. None of the ERT saw me pick it up. Don’t know what it is, but it’s unusual.” She fished out the foil tab from her wallet and passed it to him.

  Reid took it in the flat of his palm, careful not to touch the item with his fingers. “Looks like some sort of memory chip.”

  “No kidding? I didn’t think of that. What from? A computer?”

  “Can’t say. Maybe we can read it. I’ll have it analyzed by the lab. You did the smart thing by turning this over to me. Thanks.” He took a napkin from the dash and carefully wrapped the tab up, then placed it in a suit pocket.

  Reid started the ignition, and the engine turned over. “I’ve got to get going,” he said before flicking on the wind-shield wipers. He followed the motion by another that automatically sprayed water over the dusty glass. Rivulets snaked down the incline like speeding water bullets. “We’ll do things my way. Agreed?”

  Ansel shot a wide-eyed glance at Reid. He was totally unaware of the effect the squeaking wipers smearing dirt across the glittering silver bands of fluid would have on her. God, not now, she screamed silently. She had to get out of this claustrophobic space. Now.

  Speechless, she turned and clawed for the door handle. She wasn’t familiar with this car. She couldn’t remember. The white noise on the radio became the low whooshing sound of water filling her ears. A mucky, mud smell wafted up her nose, and a visceral panic spread through every organ and muscle.

  “Ansel, what are you doing?” Reid demanded.

  She couldn’t see his face, didn’t want to. She flailed at the door, at the window glass. A thick blackness edged her vision, telescoping inwards across her eyes. A flashback. She knew the symptoms so well.

  “No, no, no,” she whimpered. Don’t let him see me like this. Tears rained down her cheeks. Suddenly it wasn’t glass at all. It was a sheet of ice covered with hoarfrost. She couldn’t see through it. Impossible. She knew that, but it didn’t squelch her growing hysteria.

  “What’s wrong?” Reid’s voice echoed from far away, receding speedily.

  In an instant, she was underwater, her vison filled with murky green fluid swirling with brown algae, dead plants, and decaying matter. Dim light from the ice hole above speared into an infinity of darkness below. No sounds except the splash of liquid and the gurgle of air bubbles coming from her screaming mouth and running like mercury beads along the underside of the ice. And the cold. Bone deep. Mind numbing. Can’t breath, Ansel realized, her fists bleeding from striking the ice. Momma. Daddy.

  Something clawed at her shoulders. She was being sucked down, down, down. Into the darkness and mud. No use. She couldn’t fight anymore. She curled into a fetal position and sank like a stone.

  “Ansel,” listen to me. Open your eyes. Right now.” Something shook her violently. “Listen to me. You’re all right. Open your eyes.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, than popped open. Reid was staring into her face only inches away, his gaze focused despite his grim expression. He’d turned her around in the front seat and was holding her shoulders with both hands. She was back in the car. A wave of hot shame enveloped her. How could she let him see her like this. He’d think she was crazy and would never believe anything she said to him again.

  “Calm down,” he instructed softly. “It was just a flashback. Everything’s all right. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize about the wipers.”

  She fell against him, weeping her heart out with embarrassment, disgust, and anger. It seemed the only thing to do. Her father had explained to him several months before what had happened to her as a child, and he had the good manners not to push her away. In fact, he held her quietly in his strong, capable arms as she sobbed all over his carefully pressed suit and hiccupped against his shiny badge for several minutes.

  “I’m taking you home,” Reid stated. I’ll drive your truck and leave my car here. A deputy can pick it up.”

  She pulled away from him, swiping at her puffy, red eyes. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “You must think I’m some helpless female. Well, I’m not.”

  He peered at her critically. “You, helpless? Never. Just indisposed.”

  “God dammit. Don’t patronize me. I’m fine,” she protested, sniffling again uncontrollably.

  Reid didn’t release his hold on her. “Now you’ve done it. That’s lie number three,” he said not unkindly. “Give me your truck keys.”

  Chapter 15

  “You can’t get rich if you look over your relatives properly.”r />
  Navajo

  “God Almighty, I pray that Cullen’s not dead.”

  Chase Phoenix sipped his scotch and stared blankly across the Sarsparilla wood dining table. Pearl cast a worried glance at Ansel, her short gray-blonde hair shining beneath the Kokopelli-style swag lamp above them. Ansel lifted her eyebrows, relaying her own feelings of anxiety to her mother-in-law.

  Reid had taken her home. A sheriff’s deputy was already there to drive him back to the station, and they parted after she promised to tell him when Outerbridge made contact with her. She’d caught a couple hours of sleep to re-group her emotions before driving to the Arrowhead in time for an evening meal. She was exhausted, but knew that Flynn’s disappearance would play havoc with her father’s worries. Tonight she wanted to be there for him.

  As things stood now, Chase had barely touched his supper: a quick fare of Son-of-a-gun stew made from sweetbreads, vegetables, Mexican beans, and calf meat with sour-dough biscuits and salad on the side. Even Pearl’s offer of a slice of contest-winning, sweet potato pie for dessert had been rejected by him. This was a sure sign that, between the drought and his friend’s vanishing, he felt his luck was running kind of muddy.

  “We’re all praying that Cul’s all right,” Pearl said. “Let’s not get spooked. There could be ordinary explanations why he’s out of touch.”

  “Tell that to Katherine,” Chase replied, referring to Cullen’s wife of twenty-six years. “She must be suffering aplenty. Cul’s been gone about twenty-four hours now.”

  Pearl fixed him with a curious gaze. “I told you I talked to Katherine this afternoon and offered to stop by, remember? She’s holding up all right. Shea and Erin, are staying with her tonight along with the grandkids.”

  “I forgot,” Chase admitted.

  “You’re tired. You’ve been doing chores from dawn until dusk. Counting some sheep tonight will make everything look better in the morning.”

  “That’s right, Daddy. Cullen will turn up,” Ansel reassured, though she had her doubts. If they knew what she knew about fossil poachers, they’d be mortified.