Murder Passes the Buck (33 page)

“
What we
’
ll do,
”
Calvin explained,
“
is cross the road onto Chester
’
s land. There
’
s a fairly good system of trails through there. Chester gave us permission to use his property to run our dogs and we try to keep the trails open. At least the outer set. We haven
’
t been on the inside trails much. That
’
s where we
’
ll go today.
”

Calvin used a slipknot to tie a rope from the sled to a tree. Then he and Helen harnessed six dogs, brought them over one at a time, and hooked them up in pairs to a long rope on the front of the sled. All fifty of the dogs in the yard were barking and howling an awful racket, and the harnessed dogs were keyed up.

I crawled into the sled basket and settled in the sled bag. The dogs were frenzied to go and yanking at the lines. I glanced at the rope wrapped around the tree, nervous that it might give out or work loose, but it seemed to be holding the dogs back.

I thought I heard Calvin call to me to release the rope holding the sled. I reached over and pulled the cord, and the dogs, watching every move we made, lunged into action.

We careened down the drive, crossed the road at eighty miles an hour, soared over the ditch, and slid onto one of the trails.

I couldn
’
t help noticing that Calvin wasn
’
t behind me in the driver
’
s seat.

The dogs didn
’
t seem to care, or maybe they liked it. Less weight to haul. I chanced a quick look back and could see Calvin and Helen running and waving their arms, quickly becoming black dots in the white snow.

We charged ahead, the dogs settling into a steady sixty or seventy miles an hour. I tried to look around as we ran, but everything seemed to be a speed blur. The sled wasn
’
t tracking nice and steady behind the dogs like you
’
d imagine. Instead it swerved from one side of the path to the other, hitting every rut and bump in the road.

“
Gee,
”
I called to the dogs, remembering the word but not the meaning from watching
Wide World of Sports.
I tried yelling
“
stop,
”
but they didn
’
t even hesitate. We took a soft right curve at the next intersection and began following a less worn path. Forced to work harder, the dogs slowed to a brisk trot, giving me time to assess my situation. I noticed a large claw hook in the basket next to me tied to a rope attached to the sled.

I picked up the hook and whipped it at the next small tree we passed, hoping it would anchor around the tree and stop the

sled. The tree bent in half and the hook came free. I tried the same thing several more times without any luck.

“
Whoa,
”
I shrieked. Not one dog looked back. Not one seemed about to stop. They were on a mission dead ahead, and nothing was going to stop them. We were going to run all day.

Taking time to rest from throwing the hook, I looked forward just in time to see Bear Creek in front of us and a sharp turn in the path directly ahead. The dogs took the turn, the sled bounced on the shoulder of the curve, and I flew out.

I pulled my face out of the snow just in time to see the dogs disappear around another bend, dragging the sled on its side. I dropped my head on an arm and tried to catch my breath. I sat up slowly, working each leg and arm bone, but nothing appeared to be broken.

Slowly, I straightened up and looked at the frozen creek. Rocks jutted out of the ice, a sign that this section was shallow. A brisk wind traveled across the creek, sweeping the snow to the banks and stinging my eyes. I walked out onto the ice, hearing nothing but the wind, seeing nothing but swirling snow, feeling nothing but aching coldness.

The dogs had vanished and I would have to follow the creek or the path back. The creek and its secrets had drawn me here, but the path would take me back to the warmth of my truck.

It was bitter cold by now, a weather fact I hadn
’
t noticed while on my wild ride. There
’
s something about fear that keeps you toasty warm. I wasn
’
t too cold except for my face, which had taken the snow wash. The wind stung like an angry swarm of wasps. The gauze bandage on my forehead came loose and dangled over one eye. I pulled it loose and dabbed it on my wound. No blood.

A voice floated on the wind and soon I could see a sled and team heading my way. This one had a driver.

“
You okay?
”
Calvin asked when he pulled up, real concern in his voice.

“
I
’
m okay, but what about your dogs?
”

“
They
’
ll make a loop and probably be waiting for us at home. They know their way around in here.
”

“
I thought you told me to pull the rope loose. It would have been helpful if you had been on the sled at the time.
”

“
I said to wait until I said so and then to pull the rope.
”

“
Rumor has it there
’
s gold in this creek,
”

I said, remembering what was important.
“
What do you think of that?
”

Calvin threw out a claw hook like the one I had tried to stop the runaways with, and tromped down on the top of it, driving it into the snow.
“
I reckon it
’
s a bunch of bunk, but someone thinks it
’
s true.
”

“
What do you mean?
”

“
Helen found gold panning equipment in September right over there.
”
Calvin pointed to a spot near where I had stood on the ice.
“
When we get back to the house, I
’
ll show it to you.
”

He jumped off and helped me roll into the sled bag. Calvin pulled the hook out of the snow, called
“
hike,
”
and we were off in the direction of the runaway dogs.

Helen had already unharnessed the runaway team when we arrived. I gave the dogs fresh water while Helen went into the house and came back with a paper bag. She pulled out a green plastic pan, tweezers, and a stainless steel hand trowel.

“
At first we didn
’
t know what they were for,
”
Calvin said.
“
Helen
’
s brother told us.
”
Calvin shook his head.
“
Must have been kids because no one else would believe such a thing.
”

“
Can I borrow these?
”
I asked.

Helen nodded.
“
Why didn
’
t you just say

what you were looking for in the first place? Would have saved you a spill.
”

The six vinyl-covered tables at the Deer Horn were filled with deer hunters. I took a seat at the counter, ignoring the stunned expression on George
’
s face when I walked right past his table.

“
What ya got there?
”
Carl called to me.
“
Carryin
’
your bedpan with you? These are modern times. Haven
’
t you ever heard of Depends?
”
All six tables of hunters turned to check out the green pan I had thrown on the counter. Laughter buzzed through the room like a chain saw slicing timber.

“
Health inspector will shut me down if he sees a bedpan on my food counter.
”
Ruthie worked the grill, glancing harshly at the pan.

“
Don
’
t worry, Ruthie, it
’
s not a bedpan.
”
I swirled my chair around to face the room.
“
Leave it to Carl to know all about adult diapers.
”

George leaned back casually in a chair, studying me, his eyes guarded, his expression unreadable.

I forced my own poker face, careful not to let my opponent guess what kind of hand I held.
“
George, you know what this is, don
’
t you?
”

“
Sure, Gert, I know. What you aiming to

do? Pan for gold?
”

“
Thought you might have lost some equipment. I
’
m thinking about whether to return it or not.
”

I thought I noticed a flicker of realization pass through his smoky eyes then it was gone.
“
Take your time,
”
he said slowly.
“
There isn
’
t any rush.
”

“
You ready to take my order?
”
I croaked to Ruthie, swinging wildly back to the counter, a tight knot in my throat. As much as the evidence had been stacking in George
’
s direction, I didn
’
t really believe it until this very moment.

“
Fella in Rapid River took two ounces of gold out of a gravel pit by Marquette,
”
someone said.
“
That ain
’
t much.
”

“
Lotsa gold scammers out there to take a fool
’
s hard-earned dollars,
”
someone else said.
“
The crooks salt samples and swindle folks.
”

“
Waitress will be right there,
”
Ruthie said to someone at another table while she poured a cup of coffee for me.
“
I
’
ve heard of mining copper and iron in these parts. Gold, though …
”
She shook her head.

My daughter Star sashayed out of the kitchen, cute as a button in a frilly white waitress apron, ponytail bouncing as she walked with plates of food stacked on a tray.

“
Hey, honey,
”
I said, relieved to take my mind off George
’
s betrayal by escaping into small talk. I kept my voice light but my hands clenching the coffee cup were white.
“
What you doing?
”

“
I
’
m helping Ruthie out until hunting season
’
s over,
”
Star said, setting the tray down and passing out plates at the table closest to the kitchen.

“
How are things with the Italian Stallion?
”
I asked, remembering the stocky, dark guy she
’
d been with at the pastie dinner.
“
I never see you anymore.
”

“
He
’
s gone,
”
Star pouted.
“
He was working on a special road crew, and they finished the job and moved on. I
’
m between men right now.
”

“
Maybe you can find some time for me,
”
I said.
“
I have my own investigation company now, and Cora Mae and Kitty help out with the legwork. Maybe when you wrap up working here you can help out, too.
”
I raised my voice.
“
I have my current investigation pretty much finished up. All I have to do is drive the last few nails in.
”

“
Sounds fun.
”

“
And I need you to come to court with me.
”

“
Blaze asked me, too.
”

“
What did you say?
”