Montana Midwife (7 page)

His perfunctory tone made Tab think that his former empathy was fading fast. In this part of the world, people assumed that Misty Gabriel was a pretty, rich girl without a care. Tab knew better—she remembered the seven-year-old who tried to make everyone happy with the sound of her laughter while she cried herself to sleep every night.

The sheriff leaned forward. “Let’s get back to what happened when you saw Ellen for the last time.”

“I told her the time, and she made a snotty comment about my solid gold wristwatch. It made me mad. I took off the watch and threw it at her. Then I walked away.”

“Did you try to get your watch back?” the sheriff asked.

“I wanted to. Aiden gave it to me on my sweet sixteen, and he had it engraved with my name and birth date. I meant to call Ellen, but I never did.”

Her explanation sounded plausible—childish but believable. And yet, Tab sensed that Misty was holding something back. There was more to the story of the wristwatch. “Is there anything else you want to say?”

Misty refused to meet her gaze. Instead, she giggled and placed her hands on her belly. “The baby is kicking, really hard. I think it’s a girl, a dancer.”

Was she being deliberately evasive? Sheriff Fielding seemed to think so. His attitude toward Misty turned more hostile. “Tell me about the party at Heather Gardener’s house last weekend.”

“I didn’t go. Parties aren’t much fun when you’re pregnant and you can’t drink and you dance like an elephant.” After another giggle, she asked, “Who told you I went to that party?”

Though the sheriff said nothing, Misty’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “I know who it was,” she said. “Your deputy’s daughter. Christina? It was her, wasn’t it? She told you I went to the party. But she’s mistaken. I wasn’t there.”

“What about Clinton? Did he go by himself?”

“I don’t know.” With an effort, she pushed herself to her feet. “Are we done here?”

“Not yet,” the sheriff said.

Tab fully expected Misty to win this standoff. Sheriff Fielding might have the law on his side, but Misty was a stubborn, pregnant woman with the power of rampaging hormones. Hoping to mediate, Tab stood. “Sheriff, it might be time for us to take a break. You still need to take my statement.”

“I have more questions for Misty.”

“No,” Misty said as tears spurted from her eyes. “There isn’t anything else to say. I just can’t—”

From outside the house, gunfire exploded. Tab heard loud whoops and several shots as though two or more guns were being fired. In an instant, the atmosphere inside the house shifted from simmering hostility to a fierce, boiling anger. She heard people running, shouting, gathering their weapons and preparing to defend their property.

Whether the sheriff liked it or not, this interview was over.

* * *

A
T THE SOUND OF SHOTS
being fired, Aiden dashed from the kitchen where he’d been having sweet potato pie and tea with his mom and Maria Spotted Bear. In the front entryway, he saw both deputies peering through the window by the front door with their handguns drawn. They signaled for him to stay back.

Like hell, he would. In his house, Aiden gave the orders.

The ranch foreman, Blake Henry, pushed the front door open. “They’re gone. The gunfire came from a pickup truck. They threw something and took off, heading south.”

“Did you get a license plate?” a deputy asked.

“I barely had time to see the truck,” Blake drawled. “If you drive like fury, you might catch them.”

The sheriff stalked down the hallway from the office. “You heard him. Go.”

Aiden knew the deputies didn’t have a chance of catching up with a speeding truck. It was only about seven miles to an intersection where the paved county road led to Henley in less than ten miles. Though the sheriff already had his cell phone out, he didn’t have enough manpower to set up an effective traffic net in a matter of minutes.

A crowd spilled into the front entryway. His mom and Maria Spotted Bear came from the kitchen. Two other ranch hands entered through the front door. Misty and Tab followed the sheriff down the hall. There wasn’t time for Aiden to discuss his plan with the whole group. He knew what was needed, and he intended to do it. Pivoting on his heel, he bolted through the front door.

Anger pounded through his veins as he ran across the yard and past the barn. His home and family had been endangered. Shots were fired at his house, and he’d be damned if he let anyone get away with that kind of threat.

Behind his cabin, his chopper stood ready and waiting. As he flung open the door to the cockpit, he heard a shout.

“Wait for me.”

“Tab?” What the hell was she doing here?

“Don’t waste time talking. I’m coming with you.”

There wasn’t time to argue. He helped her into the cockpit where she dove into the copilot seat and fastened her belt. He hit the starter, throttled back and took off. Over the roar of the rotors, he heard Tab yelling as they swooped across the darkened landscape.

A quick glance told him that she wasn’t screaming in fear. The lights from the instrument panel reflected the excitement in her big, beautiful blue eyes. Her mouth opened wide in the biggest grin he’d ever seen on her face.

“Headset,” he said as he pointed to the equipment. “Put it on.”

After a bit of fumbling, she got the headset on and activated so they could talk to each other.

“This is great,” she said. “I know we have something else to be thinking about, but this is just so much fun.”

“Why did you come after me?”

She leaned toward the windshield and peered into the night. “I had a pretty good idea about what you were doing, and I wanted to help.”

“To help,” he said. “How?”

“I’m a second pair of eyes. We’re looking for a truck, right?”

Instead of discussing her plan, she’d acted on instinct, which was exactly what he’d done. He shouldn’t be mad at her for that, but he sure as hell didn’t need her help. Taking care of problems was what he did. He maneuvered the chopper until the graded gravel road leading to the house was beneath them, and then he turned on the wide-angle searchlight.

“How did you keep up with me?” he asked. “I was running.”

“You’re wearing stiff-soled boots,” she pointed out. “I’m in sneakers. Plus, I’m pretty speedy.”

“Is that so?” Her smile was adorable, but he refused to be charmed. As far as he was concerned, she’d stuck her pretty little nose into his family business. Misty might need the kind of comfort that Tab could offer, but he worked alone.

“The derivation of
Tabitha
is gazelle,” she said. “And
Aiden
is fire.”

Why did she know the meaning of his name? There was something going on here that he didn’t understand. “Fire, huh?”

“It suits you. You’re a fiery type.”

“And you’re fast.”

“On my feet, I’m fast. In other ways, you can call me molasses.” She pointed through the window. “There’s the deputy’s car with the lights flashing.”

The truck was nowhere in sight, and they were almost to the county road. Aiden concentrated on piloting the chopper. They were flying low at high speed. For anyone else, this would have been a dangerous move. At night, the low-hanging power lines and high branches of trees were nearly invisible. But this was his territory. He knew when to zig and when to zag. “I think I’ll go left toward Henley.”

“Good plan,” she said. “If we don’t see them by the time we get to town, we can double back.”

He aimed the searchlight on the road and surged forward. A mile down the road to Henley, he spotted the truck.

“There they are,” Tab said. “Now what do we do?”

“If I were alone, I’d drop down and buzz the truck until they drove off the road. But I don’t want to draw their fire with you sitting in the copilot’s seat.”

“Well, then. It’s a good thing I came along.”

Not if the truck got away while he was playing it safe. He didn’t want these guys to get all the way into town where they could crawl into a hole and hide. “We’re going to set up an ambush.”

His plan was to get ahead of the truck and set the chopper down in the middle of the road. The truck would have to hit the brakes. When they stopped, he’d shoot out their tires. There wasn’t time to explain all that to Tab.

“When I touch down,” he said, “you jump out and run. Take cover. Understand?”

“Got it.”

He zoomed ahead and set the chopper down in the middle of the road. In the distance, he could see the headlights of the truck approaching. Reaching behind his seat, he grabbed his rifle.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tab throw off her seat belt and climb out. She hit the ground running, just like he’d told her. There wasn’t a lot of cover nearby, but she found a couple of granite rocks and ducked behind them. He followed her.

Beside her, he went up on one knee and took aim.

The truck came to a stop.

Before Aiden could fire, both doors on the cab swung open and a couple of guys jumped out. Their hands were raised over their heads.

“Don’t shoot.” Both men were yelling. “We surrender. Don’t shoot.”

Aiden’s trigger finger itched. He would have liked to blast the tires and put a couple of holes in the doors of the truck just to teach these guys a lesson. But he didn’t want to give them a reason to press charges against him for destroying their property.

“Tab, you stay put.” He stood with his rifle still held at the ready. “This might be a trap.”

“Could be somebody else in the back of the truck,” she said. “Be careful.”

Walking toward them, he yelled, “On your knees. Hands locked behind your head.”

Quickly, they followed his order. As he approached, he could see the fear in their eyes. They were young, not much older than Misty. One of them wore a beat-up Denver Broncos cap and an oversize jersey with the number fifteen celebrating Tebow, the former quarterback who pulled off a couple of miracle wins. The other appeared to be part Crow.

After he checked the bed of the truck and was satisfied that nobody else was hiding amid the junk that had accumulated there, he took a position in front of the young men. Aiden didn’t lower his rifle.

“Where are your guns?” he demanded.

“In the truck,” said the Bronco fan. “We didn’t mean any harm. We fired into the air to get your attention.”

“Nobody threatens my home.” Aiden was dead serious. “If you have a problem, you come to me. Like a man.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give me your names.”

“I’m Woody Silas.” He wore the Bronco cap. “And this here is Chuck Longbeak.”

Aiden heard Tab come up behind him. “Longbeak,” she said. “I know your sister.”

His dark eyes pleaded. “You can’t tell my sister. She’ll tell my mom.”

“Your mom will know,” Tab said. “You boys are about to get yourselves arrested. The deputies are already on their way.”

“We didn’t do nothing wrong,” Woody said. He was almost crying. If this was an act, it was a good one. “We just flung something in your driveway and fired into the air.”

“You broke plenty of laws,” Aiden said. “You fled a police officer. You were speeding. You did malicious mischief. If I really pushed, that mischief charge might get upgraded to assault with a deadly weapon.”

“Nobody got hurt,” Woody yelped.

“What did you throw into my driveway?”

The two young men exchanged a nervous glance. This time it was Chuck Longbeak who did the talking. “We wrapped up a note inside a hunting magazine so it would have some heft. Woody threw it. He’s got a good arm. He was a quarterback.”

“What did the note say?” Tab asked.

Chuck buttoned his lip. He was acting like this was nothing but a harmless prank, and Aiden was running short on patience. “Answer the lady.”

“David Welling was my friend,” Chuck said. “He got me a job with his uncle at the gas station. I liked David. He shouldn’t be dead.”

“His death,” Tab said, “saddens us all. David should have had many more years.”

Chuck turned his head to glare at Aiden. “It’s your sister’s fault. He loved her. And she shot him.”

He spoke with the kind of assurance that came from knowing what had happened, almost as though he’d been there at the time of the shooting. “How do you know? Were you there?”

“No.” Chuck shook his head. They both looked guilty as hell. Something else was going on with them.

“But you know the area. You know where David got shot.” Aiden paused. “I’m going to ask you again. Think hard and tell me the truth. Were you there?”

“Not this time.”

His answer implied that there had been other times. “It wasn’t sheer dumb luck that David ended up in a place where my sister was. He must have been following her.”

Woody spoke up, “We don’t know nothing about that.”

“I think you do,” Aiden pressed. “I think you were all spying on Misty, keeping an eye on her. How many times did you drive by the ranch, looking for her?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Chuck admitted.

“Shut up,” Woody growled. “We don’t have to tell him that. He’s not a cop.”

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, kid. I’m a man with a gun. That means I ask the questions and you give the answers.”

Chuck lifted his chin. “I only know one thing for sure. David loved Misty, and she broke his heart.”

“What did the note say?”

Chuck mumbled, “It’s your fault, Misty. You killed him. His death is on your hands.”

Aiden heard the deputy’s sirens getting closer. He’d be glad to turn these two over to the law, not that he thought any of the charges would stick. Woody and Chuck represented the tip of the iceberg. Lots of townspeople would be quick to blame Misty, whether or not she was guilty.

Chapter Seven

From the copilot seat, Tab looked down at the road. The chopper hovered high enough that the wind from the rotors didn’t churn up the dirt and dead leaves on the ground. She watched the deputies slap the cuffs on Chuck and Woody. While one of them kept an eye on the boys, the other gathered the guns from Woody’s truck, moved their vehicle to the side of the road and slapped a police sticker on the door.

Beside her, Aiden said nothing. She had the impression that he was annoyed with her but didn’t know why. The more she got to know him, the harder he was to understand. Life had been a lot simpler when she’d simply admired him from afar. Ten years ago, she’d thought he was perfect. Now? Not so much.