The Bitterroots (Cassie Dewell #4) - C.J. Box Page 0,56

what had just happened.

She sat in her Jeep for a moment and replayed the entire exchange over in her head. She’d rarely encountered a woman who could shut down and lash out so suddenly. Maybe it was the cumulative effect of all of those glasses of bourbon, she thought. But Cheyenne’s tone and demeanor absolutely changed when Cassie brought up the subject of her daughter.

Cassie would still need to try and find Lindy Glode although it sounded like Lindy’s condition and credibility might be dicey. She wondered if Cheyenne would ever talk to her again. And she dismissed the possibility of meeting Franny.

*

Cassie checked her phone to see that Ben had tried to call her while she was talking with Cheyenne. As usual, he didn’t leave a message. Isabel had not returned her call.

Cassie checked her mirrors and eased out of the parking lot onto Highway 93. There was no traffic.

When she reached cruising speed she punched the button on the steering wheel that activated the Bluetooth system.

“Hi, Mom.” He sounded jaunty, which pleased her.

“I see that you called. Did you get things worked out with Isabel? I tried to talk with her earlier but she didn’t pick up.”

“She’s still on strike,” Ben said. “That’s part of her strike, you know. She only takes calls from her weird hippie friends.”

“Ben, please don’t call your grandmother’s friends ‘weird hippies.’”

“That’s what they are and you know it,” he said. He still sounded happy.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

“I am. I can do what I want now. I cooked a cheeseburger for dinner and I liked it so much I cooked another one. I hope she stays on strike forever.”

“Ben …”

“Oh, and something really wild happened today. It was crazy.”

Cassie braced herself for what would come next.

“I was walking to the Kum and Go …”

As she crossed the Lochsa County line, red and blue wigwag lights filled her vehicle and a siren whooped from behind.

“What was that?” Ben asked. “Was that a cop car? Are the cops after you?”

Cassie squinted into the rearview mirror to see the cruiser just a few feet from her bumper.

She glanced at her dashboard. Her lights were on and she was going four miles under the sixty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit.

“I’m being pulled over,” Cassie said.

“By the cops? What did you do?”

“I have no idea but I need to call you back.”

“Keep the phone on so I can hear,” he said. Ben seemed to be enjoying the situation a bit too much, she thought.

“Ben, I said I’d call you back,” she repeated.

“Don’t get thrown in the slammer, Mom! But if you do I’ll bring you a file in a cake so you can break out.”

She disconnected the call.

*

Cassie eased over to the shoulder of the highway until her passenger-side tires sunk into the loam. The cruiser stayed just a few feet from her Jeep, which went against her training as a young deputy sheriff. She’d been taught that when pulling over a driver she should maintain at least a car length distance away from the citizen. That way, the officer could clearly see the plates and call them in to find out if the vehicle was stolen or if she had any outstanding warrants. Also, if the offender decided to reverse his vehicle and ram her unit she’d have enough warning to take evasive action.

This cop, however, had apparently not received the same training. Or he’d chosen to disregard it.

She’d never been on the wrong side of a roadside situation before. It was embarrassing and intimidating. She also hoped that the reason she’d been pulled over was innocuous, that the officer had noted that her taillight was out or he was simply warning her that the fire had jumped the road ahead on the highway.

Cassie placed both of her hands on top of the steering wheel so they’d be in plain view. She didn’t want to give the cop any reason whatsoever to suspect her of anything.

So many things could go wrong, she knew. But she’d always experienced a situation like this from the viewpoint of the cop pulling someone over, not the other way around. Would the driver be belligerent? Would the subject pull a weapon or try to drive away? Was there a body in the trunk?

She could see the officer clearly in her rearview mirror. He was angular and young with a shaved head and eyes that were close together, which gave her the impression—likely undeserved—that he was petty and mean.

He was a sheriff’s deputy,