Bones and Brew Page 13

  Jason turned, faced forward, and collapsed back into the seat. “We’ve never kissed.”

  “You and Lou or you and Ben?” Milt joked.

  “Both. But I’m not complaining about missing out on Ben’s kisses.”

  “You know how to fix that, don’t you?”

  Jason bucked his brows. “Getting Ben to kiss me?”

  “No,” Milt laughed. “The way to prevent Ben from interrupting you and Lou is by keeping him preoccupied.”

  Jason scratched the side of his head. “You mean like giving him a treat or something?”

  “A companion of his own. You need to find a female dog, about Ben’s size, or a little smaller. That will take his fixation off of Lou and allow you to make your move.”

  “That’s brilliant, Milt. Simply brilliant. I would have never thought of finding a girlfriend for Ben.”

  “Have you ever owned a dog?”

  “Oh, sure.” Jason rapidly bobbed his head. “Growing up on a farm in Idaho, we always had a dog, usually a herding dog of some sort. After I married Martha, dachshunds occupied our house. She sure loved those wiener dogs. Her favorite was Winnie.” He sucked a deep breath before continuing.

  “When cancer claimed a nasty hold of Martha and started taking her down fast, Winnie wouldn’t leave Martha’s side.” He glanced down at his lap, then back up, staring blankly out the windshield as memories rushed in. “Winnie died, just keeled over, the day after Martha passed away. I guess the dog died of heartbreak.” He choked back tears. “After the viewing, I placed Winnie in Martha’s arms before they sealed the casket. I figured they both would have wanted it that way.”

  “One of my friends works at the Tumble City Animal Shelter,” Milt said, drastically changing the subject for which Jason was grateful. “I’ll put a bug in his ear that you’re looking for a sweet, medium-sized female dog. Do you have any preference for breed or color?”

  “I’m not a chihuahua kind of a guy, but other than that, I’m open.”

  “Since I’ve yet to see a Labrador-sized chihuahua, that leaves your preference pretty wide open.”

  “Dispatch to Fire Chief Tumble,” a female voice blared through the handheld radio.

  Milt and Jason sat up at attention.

  Milt snatched the radio and spoke into it. “Fire Chief Tumble here, go ahead.”

  “Milt, it’s Cindy. We received a call that a group of hikers found Louise. She wanted us to relay that she’s okay.”

  Jason’s heart thumped like a drum solo in his chest.

  “Did the hikers say where they found her?”

  “Somewhere off the South Ridge trail.”

  “Thanks, Cindy. I’ll head there now.”

  Milt placed the radio back onto the dash holder and turned to Jason. “Grab hold of Ben’s leash so he doesn’t jump out then buckle up. We’re going to pick up Lou.”

  As Milt maneuvered the UTV around the parked MTAF vehicles and toward the trail, he pointed across the street. “They must have police scanners and heard Lou’s been found.”

  Jason glanced at the store.

  A mass of reporters barged through the trading post doors and scrambled toward their vehicles.

  “You’d think they were escaping a fire or an active shooter,” Jason commented.

  “We’ll have Lou and be back here before those reporters drive around the mountain to the South Ridge Trailhead,” Milt chuckled.

  A zillion thoughts raced into Jason’s mind. He wondered about Lou’s condition. Although she claimed to be okay, she could be physically banged up. Or an emotional wreck. Oddly those weren’t his main concerns.

  His main concern focused on how he would greet Louise. More importantly, how she would receive him. Would she be pleasantly surprised to see him? Would she leap into his arms and kiss him? Would the exchange of passion be thwarted, once again, by Ben…?

  Jason eyed his wristwatch. “How long do you think it will be until we connect to the South Ridge Trail and find Lou?”

  “Ten minutes or less.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Reunion!

  “Thank you, Kurt.” Louise rubbed her throbbing wrists and smiled at the square-jawed college-aged man built like a Fort Knox gun safe.

  “My pleasure, Ms. Tumble.”

  “Lou. Please call me, Lou.”

  “Yes, Ma’am … uh, I mean, Lou.”

  “I’m free!” She pumped her arms above her head in victory and gazed down at the small crowd gathered at the bottom of the sharp grade.

  They clapped, cheered, and waved back.

  Louise rubbed her scalp and fluffed her long hair over her shoulders, contemplating how she would traverse the dizzyingly steep mountainside.

  “I say we go down the way I came up,” Kurt suggested as if reading her mind.

  “How’s that?”

  “Basically Spiderman walking, backward, feet first.”

  “Spiderman walking?”

  “Get down on all fours and move your opposite limbs in unison.”

  Louise raised her right hand and left leg, working to mimic the movement.

  “Watch me.” Kurt squatted and leaned forward until his hands touched the ground. He widened his leg stance then proceeded to descend the slope. After taking a half-dozen steps, he crawled back up and stood next to her. “What do you think? Can you do it?”

  “I prefer the slide-on-your-butt method.” She walked upright as far as she dared on the severe decline, then sat down. “Be prepared to catch me,” she called down to Megan and her pliking crew.

  “Hmm. Lou’s butt-sliding method of descending a mountain. That’s a new one,” Kurt laughed. “What the heck, I’ll try it too.”

  The two slid and laughed their way down the mountain to the trail, Kurt beating her by a good ten feet or more.

  Kurt stood with his hands extended, waiting for Louise to scoot to the bottom of the slope. “You made it!” He grabbed her hands and yanked her to her feet with one mighty pull.

  Louise fell into his iron chest. “Wow. I was airborne. Was that a Superman move?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Thank you.” She patted Kurt’s thick chest. “Thank you for rescuing me.” She turned to Megan. “And thank you for your perfect timing.”

  The women hugged.

  Megan pulled back and jammed a bottle of water into Louise’s hand. “Drink.”

  Louise chugged the water, not coming up for air until the bottle was more than half empty.

  “We’re about half a mile from the South Ridge trailhead.” Megan stabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “Or, a mile or so from connecting to the main trail at the lake. If we return to the trailhead, I’ll drive you to town. Or…,” she pointed at the trail ahead, “if you’re up for it, we can walk to the trading post, which would be faster than driving around the mountain. You decide.”

  The light grinding noise of an off-road vehicle hummed in the near distance.

  “That could be someone looking for you,” Megan suggested.

  “I’ll go check it out.” Kurt took off on a jog up the roller coaster track-like trail.

  “I’ll join you,” a pretty blonde gal volunteered, running to catch up with him.

  Excitement tickled Louise’s innards. “That could be Milt and Ben.”

  “Woowf-woowf. Woowf-woowf.”

  “That’s my boy!” Refusing to wait a moment longer, Louise burst into an all-out run up the trail. Stoked by a surge of adrenaline and overwhelming joy, a concoction more potent than morphine, her arthritic knees became pain-free. She sprinted with the ease of a conditioned cross country runner.

  “Lou’s just over that crest,” Kurt yelled, she assumed to Milt.

  Ben bounded over the peak. He raced toward Louise, his leash trailing behind him like Snoopy’s scarf in his battles with the Red Baron.

  “Ben!” She stooped and opened her arms.

  The dog pounced on her, knocking her flat on her back.

  She laughed and cried,
hugging her canine hero as he wildly licked her face. “You found me! You found me!”

  Moments later, the UTV rolled onto the scene.

  “Lou! Let me help you up,” the male voice called out as the sound of footsteps rushing toward her filled the air.

  Vigorously rubbing Ben’s thick back, Louise continued to express her love and gratitude to the dog.

  “Come on, Ben.” Milt picked up the leash and pulled the dog off of Louise. “Give your mom some space.”

  “You take care of the dog,” Kurt said to Milt, “I’ll help Lou.” He extended his hand.

  Louise accepted his assistance.

  He pulled her to her feet with a mighty tug. Airborne, she once again slammed into his chest. Not that she minded. “Thank you.” She tapped her hand on his shoulder and dusted off her butt.

  “I assume you left this on purpose.” Milt dangled the locket in front of her. “The necklace needs repairing but—”

  “Thank goodness you found it and thank you for finding me.” Reaching to take the necklace from Milt’s hand, she stopped midair. “Do you mind holding on to it for safekeeping until we get back to the trading post? I’d hate to lose it by accident.”

  “No problem.” He dropped the necklace into his left shirt pocket and tapped it. “Safe and sound, next to my heart.”

  She draped her arms around Milt’s neck and hugged him. “Thank you again for finding me.”

  “You’re welcome. A lot of people were worried about you, including the person who insisted on coming with me to pick you up.”

  Peering over his shoulder at the UTV parked about twenty feet away, she wondered who had come with Milt. Rachel? Chief Frampton? Or…?

  A sliver of sunlight peeked through the towering pines at the perfect angle to blind her.

  She squinted and raised her hand to shield the brilliance. Her eyelids shot up like tightly wound window shades at the sight of the person standing next to the UTV. “Jason!”

  Like a scene in a cheesy romance movie, the two ran with open arms to each other. Embracing each other, they hugged long and hard.

  After a few moments of holding each other, Louise pulled back. Eyed his dress pants and white dress shirt. She wrinkled her forehead. “What are you … what about the conference?”

  He answered by attacking her mouth, pressing his lips hard against hers to deliver the kiss of her life. Disengaging, he dropped his hands to her waist and beamed. “You don’t know how long I wanted to do that.”

  The plikers and Milt clapped and cheered.

  Stunned, Louise stood gawking, her mouth gaping. Her jaw worked, but nothing came out.

  “Woof-woof.”

  Ben’s bark broke her trance, catapulting her into immediate action. She launched a reciprocal face suck, attacking Jason’s lips. It had been years, literally decades, since she kissed or had been kissed like lovers do. She pulled back and flashed a sexy smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

  “Ahem.” Milt cleared his throat. “I hate to break up the celebration, but Sgt. Filburn of the MTAF is eager to talk to you, Lou, about the Barrs.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Interrogation

  Louise, Sgt. Filburn, and Police Chief Pete Frampton sat on metal folding chairs around a square table in Tumble Lake’s only interrogation room. The chalk-white walls, brilliant florescent ceiling of lights, gray mesa stone flooring, and the sheen of the stainless steel table gave the appearance of a restaurant prep kitchen more than a law enforcement questioning room.

  “That note you left for us on the toilet paper roll was clever,” Sgt. Filburn said. “Curiosity’s got the best of me. I have to ask, what did you use to write the message?”

  “A mixture of dirt from the cave floor and hand sanitizer.” She cocked her brow and looked at him. “You thought it was poo, didn’t you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” he laughed.

  “Are we done now? I feel like I’ve repeated the same story over and over for days.” She eyed Pete. “How long have I been here?”

  He glanced at his wristwatch. “A couple of hours.” Turning to the sergeant, “Lou’s right. She’s been through a lot today and has got to be tired and hungry. Can’t you just call her if you need more information?”

  Louise held her breath. She gazed at Filburn, trying to gauge the probability he’d finally release her.

  “I suppose.”

  Yeah! She about jumped out of her seat.

  “Let me double-check my notes.” The MTAF agent consulted the lined yellow tablet he had been scribbling notes on as they talked.

  Louise shifted in the hard folding chair, her butt numb in places. “My husband was the chief of police until he was murdered, so I understand you have a job to do.”

  Filburn bowed his balding head for a moment before reengaging eye contact. “I know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I wish someone would solve Tom’s murder and bring his killer or killers to justice.”

  “We all wish that, Lou,” Pete softly said with a smile of compassion.

  Filburn nodded. Once again, he flipped through the pages of handwritten notes he had taken.

  “Can you give me a ride home?” she asked Pete. “I’d be happy to, but Jason’s here. So I assume—”

  “You didn’t see Morton kill Preston, correct?” Filburn asked.

  A huff of disgust preceded her answer. “As I told you numerous times before, Sergeant, when those two men were fighting, I saw that as my opportunity to escape. I didn’t hang around to see the outcome of the battle. I took off on the run and had made it all the way to the main lake trail when I heard the gunshot.”

  “And you didn’t actually witness Preston shooting his father either, correct?”

  “Correct. As I stated earlier, I didn’t see Preston pull the trigger. But I witnessed Porter taking the bullet, falling over, and—” she cut herself off. Something Porter said leaped front and center in her mind. She had forgotten about that conversation. With his dying breaths, Porter claimed he knew who killed Tom but wouldn’t tell her until tomorrow.

  “The expression on your face reveals you experienced a memory surge.” Filburn leaned forward, sharpening the intense look of scrutiny already on his face. “What did you just recall?”

  Not caving under his subtle intimidation tactic, Louise forced a smile and slightly wagged her head. Her attention cut between Pete and the sergeant. “Nothing really.”

  Filburn narrowed his eyes. “Let me be the judge of that.”

  She sucked in a deep breath before saying, “Porter said he loved me.” No way would she share Porter stating he knew who killed Tom. She’d do some investigating on her own. Later. With Pete’s help. Or not. Regardless, her priority at the moment was the steely-faced federal lawman. She had to convince him he was beating a dead horse by continuing to question her.

  “I’m not surprised Porter proclaimed his love for Lou,” Pete explained to the sergeant. “He’s had a crush on her for years.”

  “Porter never wore deodorant. I doubt he changed his clothes more than once a week.” Louise scraped her fingernail against the Lake Springs logo on the empty water bottle, picking at the paper label in front of her. More memories of the deceased survivalist rushed in. His brash opinions expressed at town meetings. Extreme intelligence which didn’t match his appearance. The pride he harbored for his four boys and eleven grandchildren…

  “He sure knew how to craft a tasty brew that locals and visitors alike enjoyed.” The label she had been stripping finally fell off the bottle. She raised her head and eyed the men. “Losing a member of our tight-knit community is hard. No doubt it will take a toll on town folks.” She quirked her mouth and swallowed hard, suppressing tears that wanted to erupt. “I’m gonna miss Porter. But not his brand of body odor,” she added with an inward laugh.

  Pete bobbed his head, indicating a silent, me too.

  “Thank you for your help, Lou.” The MTAF agent rea
ched into his shirt pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to her. “Call me if you think of anything else that might be pertinent to the case.”

  She had held back a couple of things. Such as overhearing Ruben and Alton contemplating killing her as she lay awake in that homemade coffin. And that the Barrs made straw purchases of firearms for fellow patriots. But she figured the MTAF already knew that. Otherwise, the family wouldn’t have been under investigation in the first place.

  Then there was Porter stating he knew who killed Tom. As far as she was concerned, that had nothing to do with the MTAF’s case and was none of their business.

  Filburn pushed back from the table.

  The chair legs made a high-pitched grinding sound as they scraped against the stone floor that drew a cringe out of Louise.

  He rose, hiked his pants around his waist, and picked up the lined yellow note pad.

  Pete stood and extended his hand. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  Filburn nodded.

  The men shook hands.

  As the MTAF agent strode to the door, he stopped and turned. His focus rested on Louise. “The Barrs trusted you enough to want you to negotiate a deal with law enforcement on their behalf. They may still want you to do that.”

  “What?” Louise smashed up her face, his comment making no sense. “If they’re on the run, how in the world would I be able to negotiate for them? Besides, why would I want to?”

  “Until we apprehend them, they could return. Maybe even take you hostage again.”

  Louise felt her jaw slack, the thought Morton, Hyrum, or Daniel might return hadn’t occurred to her.

  “The Barrs could be plotting, right now, to abduct you. For all we know, they’re casing your home as we speak.”

  “We’ll watch out for Lou.” Pete stepped to her side. “She’s our beloved mayor and has tons of friends. You have my word, we won’t let her out of our sight.”

  “Thank you, Pete,” she said with tenderness, her heart filled with the warmth from the chief’s kind words.

  “A certain accountant waiting outside this room is eager for the chance to stay close to your town’s good mayor.” A glimmer of a smile dashed across Filburn’s otherwise stony face. “Probably for longer than the next few days.”