Stone Cross (Arliss Cutter #2) - Marc Cameron Page 0,45
joke. We are very proud of Stone Cross. We got a big potluck planned at the school tonight. Don’t worry, both parties to the case are invited so no one will think you’re playin’ favorites before the arbitration.” He hooked a finger over his shoulder at a green four-wheeler. “Come on, Judge, you can ride up front with me.”
“I should probably ride—”
Red Fox ran a hand over his thick hair. “If you think I’m gonna try and talk to you about the arbitration while we ride, you ain’t been on that many bush Hondas. I’m good as deaf anyhow.”
The VPSO loaded the sleeping bags and other luggage into the nearest plywood trailer. “Here, Judge,” he said. “I made you a seat out of sleeping bags if you’d rather ride in the back.”
Markham gave a nod. “That would probably be best.”
Red Fox shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But there’s only six hundred fifty-two people in the village. Everybody here’s on one side of this thing or the other. You might as well relax and talk to folks.”
Earl removed the tail stand from the rear of the Caravan and stowed it back in the belly pod as soon as everyone had their gear off the plane. Three minutes later, he was down at the end of the runway, opening up the throttle to barrel back toward the crowd. The cold air and slight headwind made the airplane leap off the gravel. It disappeared into the clouds before they had all the bags loaded in the trailers.
A chilly quiet settled in as soon as the Caravan was gone.
A few of the roughly two dozen people in the Stone Cross welcoming committee chatted with each other, but they did so in hushed tones, dampened even more by the soupy mist.
Lola turned a slow three-sixty and shuddered. “This is creepy,” she said. “Why is everyone whispering like we’re in church?”
“We don’t yell too much,” Ned said. “Yelling’s bad for you.” He shrugged. “We may beat the crap outta each other if we get drunk, but we don’t yell . . .”
Tina Paisley stood a few steps away from the group, hugging herself as she stared at the spot where the plane had disappeared. “Does anyone else feel like we’ve been dropped off on a faraway planet?”
The VPSO raised his hand. “I feel that way every time I go to Anchorage.” He chuckled. “To be honest, I’m new here myself. My wife and I transferred from Tooksook Bay, over on the coast. These folks in Stone Cross are good people though. They’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Cutter had Lola ride on the back of Ned Jasper’s four-wheeler, which would follow the trailer with the judge. Up to now, keeping Markham in sight had been straightforward, but he was sure to get more passive-aggressive now that they were in the village. The VPSO said he’d already been briefed on the threat by Lieutenant Warr and promised to be an extra set of eyes.
“How about you, Officer Jasper?” Lola asked when it was just she and Cutter with the VPSO. Everyone else was still getting situated and ready to ride. “Any idea if anyone from Stone Cross could have sent the threat to the judge?”
Ned Jasper threw a leg over his ATV, nodding nonchalantly to a group of three Native women at the end of the line, standing beside their own Hondas. Like everyone but the city manager, the women were dressed for a sloppy ride in the wet snow. “See the one in the middle? That’s Daisy Aguthluk. I was going to talk to you about her as soon as we got back to the school.”
Cutter shot a quick glance at the women, then let his eyes travel over the rest of the crowd so as not to appear too interested in them. Everyone remained stone-faced. Thankfully, neither Aguthluk or the two women with her appeared to have a gun. “You think she’s our threat?”
“Pretty sure,” Jasper said.
“She hates Markham enough to threaten to kill him?”
“I would, if I was her,” Jasper said. “I mean, I wouldn’t threaten him, but I’d hate him if he did to me what he did to her family.”
“Everybody ready to go?” Melvin Red Fox shouted over the engine noise of his ATV. Snow fell down the top of his rubber boot. His jacket remained unzipped. Either this guy was impervious to the cold, or he flat didn’t care about much of anything. Cutter recognized him as the latter. He’d been