Stone Cross (Arliss Cutter #2) - Marc Cameron Page 0,46
there before himself.
Red Fox gunned the throttle, waving Cutter over. “You can get warm in the school.”
Cutter raised his index finger, the universal sign to hold on a minute, before turning back to the VPSO. “What did Markham do to her family?”
Jasper gave a noncommittal shrug. “My wife and I are new to the village, but the way I understand it, he kidnapped Daisy’s aunt.”
CHAPTER 15
Red Fox gunned his engine again. From his nest among the bags in the back of the plywood trailer, the judge yelled for everyone to hurry.
“We need to talk about this some more,” Cutter said to Ned Jasper. “You stay behind the trailer and make sure nobody gets close to the judge. I’ll see if I can get Red Fox to help me keep an eye on Daisy Aguthluk.”
Cutter climbed on behind the city manager, facing aft so he could hold on to each side of the luggage rack and watch his new suspect. This put the calves of his Fjällräven pants in the perfect position to catch a constant spray of mud and snow from the ATV’s spinning tires.
The route in from the airport headed directly toward the river, bringing the procession into Stone Cross on one of the smaller gravel side streets. Junked ATVs and snowmobiles—called snow machines in Alaska—slumped forlornly in front of, beside, and behind almost every house. Here and there, black strips of meat hung drying under flat-topped sheds. Canadian jays flitted back and forth over the bloody remains of a caribou ribcage. Caribou hides were everywhere, hanging over sawhorses, draped over porch rails, or tacked against walls with the flesh side out. Heads and antlers lay strewn beside most of the weathered houses. Dogs sat in front of wooden boxes, some chained, some loose, all watching with mild disinterest as the procession of ATVs roared past.
Aguthluk and the two other women stayed with everyone else as far as the edge of town, then peeled off at a thick line of willows, disappearing to the south. The rest of the ATVs kept going up the side street. If Cutter had his bearings right, they’d turn to the left at the end when the road made a T, and head north toward the school. He toyed with the idea of asking Red Fox to follow her, but decided he’d better stay with the judge. The quicker they got him inside the school, the better.
A stub-legged village mutt that looked like a cross between a German shepherd and a Corgi stood and watched them pass, holding a caribou hoof in its mouth.
Ned Jasper rode up so he was shoulder to shoulder with Cutter, working the handlebars to keep his ATV out of the potholes and ruts. “Looks like that scene from Yojimbo—where the dog carries in that guy’s arm . . . I love that movie.”
“I know what you mean—”
Cutter paused. He’d heard something—a scream maybe. Red Fox slowed. As did Jasper. They must have heard it too. The noise came again, muffled, but out of place. Jasper used his chin to gesture toward a sun-bleached plywood house on the north side of the street that they’d driven past.
An instant later, a large window beside the front door shattered outward, and a woman launched through the opening as if she’d been shot from a cannon. She hit the ground facedown, skidding in the snow and gravel, before coming to rest in a stunned pile. Naked from the waist down, she wore nothing but a dingy gray T-shirt. Blood poured from a gash on her forearm. Even from thirty feet away, it was easy to see when she looked up that she’d been beaten badly enough that one of her eyes was swollen shut.
Cutter jumped off the back of Red Fox’s ATV while it was still rolling, ducking to the side to avoid the attached plywood trailer that carried the judge and attorneys.
Lola dismounted as well, but Cutter pointed to the trailer, ordering her to stay with the judge. He waved Red Fox toward the school, leaving Cutter and Ned Jasper to deal with the girl.
The front door to the house flew open as Red Fox pulled away with the judge and a very unhappy Lola Teariki. A wiry man shot out the door but stopped on the porch, fists clenched, cursing at the top of his lungs at the woman. He wore saggy briefs and a pair of unlaced military boots. Long, black hair was mussed like he’d just gotten out of