Framed For Christmas. Jaycee Bullard
Читать онлайн книгу.
could not have been more surprising.
“I just found twenty kilos of cocaine in the back of your van.”
She blinked. Twice. And then asked him to repeat the statement.
“I found ten bags of cocaine in the trunk of your vehicle.” Gideon enunciated each word with careful precision. “Actually, Lou did. I’d estimate its street value to be close to a million dollars.”
She gasped. “Your dog found cocaine in our van?” This had to be a joke. “Is he some sort of super-secret-agent canine trained to sniff out drugs?”
The muscle flexing along Gideon’s jaw and the firm set of his mouth showed that this was no laughing matter, even before his words confirmed it.
“He is. And he’s got the medals to prove it. It took him less than five minutes to locate the stash of drugs hidden with the Bibles. Ironic, don’t you think?”
She scrambled to make sense of this information. After all, she was a scientist who worked with DNA, trained to observe even the smallest detail, but she had neglected to examine any of the boxes before stowing them in the cargo area of the van. She supposed that, if what Gideon said about the drugs was true, it was rather ironic, but at the moment, that was the least of her concerns. “Who put them there?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.” His cool, dark eyes lingered on her face as if searching for answers. “I’m at a loss here, trying to figure out what to think about this. You seem like a nice enough lady. And the kids in your group appear to be straightforward and friendly, as well. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that transporting drugs over state lines is a felony. I noticed that your van has Iowa plates, which makes me wonder about your reasons for visiting the reservation. It’s hard to imagine why anyone would choose to travel this distance in a raging snowstorm with a bunch of kids who are supposed to be in school.”
She bristled at his tone, her dismay giving way to resentment at his innuendo. Who did Gideon Marshall think he was? Yes, he was allowing them to use his home and offering shelter from the storm. And yes, he did look like he could star in his own superhero movie with his broad shoulders and strong arms straining the sleeves of his red flannel shirt. But that didn’t give him the right to make those kinds of wild accusations.
“You may find this hard to believe, Mr. Marshall, but I’m just as surprised as you are by all of this. Maybe you should start by explaining what led you to discover these so-called drugs in the first place.”
Instead of the look of chagrin she had expected, his lips formed a satisfied smile. “Lou was acting skittish when we came upon you in the ditch, so I decided I needed to check out the situation for myself.”
“So you broke into our vehicle and rummaged through our stuff?”
“Exactly.” He cocked his head to one side, seeming pleased to admit he had violated their privacy. “And it turned out that Lou was correct, which isn’t surprising, since his nose is never wrong. Believe me, Miss Jones, this is not a small amount of contraband we’re dealing with. So it would behoove you to answer my question. Why bring a van full of kids from Iowa to North Dakota in the middle of a snowstorm?”
She stared at Gideon Marshall with barely contained irritation. Okay, maybe he knew what he was talking about when he claimed to have found drugs in the van, but they didn’t belong to her or anyone in the mission group. She took a deep breath and willed herself to be civil to this man who—she needed to remind herself—had rescued them from an uncertain fate in the North Dakota wilderness.
“We came to Dagger Lake because the new community center on the reservation is opening this weekend. The kids were here this past summer on a mission trip to help out after the flood. As a thank-you, the chief and the council of elders invited them to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony on Saturday night.” She paused to cast a withering glance in his direction. “Apparently, their parents thought the experience was worthwhile enough for them to miss school.”
Gideon’s lips turned down in a scowl. “Do you have any reason to suspect that anyone in the group might be dealing drugs?”
This was getting more absurd by the moment. “Absolutely not. I can personally vouch for each and every one of these kids.” Her voice quavered with anger as she met and held his gaze. “I’ve known all of them for years, and I can’t imagine any of them being involved in something like this. They are all honor students who spend their free time volunteering and doing service projects with our church.” An idea occurred to her. “Is it possible that the stuff you found is talcum powder?”
Gideon gave a bitter laugh. “Let me assure you, Miss Jones, that I can tell the difference between talcum powder and cocaine.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Let’s say for the sake of argument that there really are drugs in the back of the van—”
“Were.” He interrupted. “They aren’t there anymore. I’ve secured them in a safe place until I can turn them over to the sheriff.” He shot her another hard stare. “I get the feeling you doubt my credentials. Maybe you see me as some sort of crazy backwoodsman who doesn’t know the difference between oregano and pot.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “You found pot in the van, as well?”
“I was just using that as an example to make my point,” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “Listen. I should have said this right at the outset. I used to work for the DEA, which means that I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with illegal drugs. This isn’t just a hunch. It is fact. I used a testing kit to confirm that the powder is definitely cocaine. So you can see that I’m not making an idle accusation. I know what I’m talking about, and when I tell you someone in your group is guilty of smuggling drugs, you can be assured I don’t make the accusation lightly. Which brings us back to the question—who hid the stash in your van?”
“I have no idea.” Her head was spinning as she tried to wrap her brain around what Gideon had just said. Had he just called her a criminal? Maybe not directly, but certainly by inference. And what was a DEA agent doing living in the middle of nowhere? Scratch that. A retired DEA agent. Dani looked again at the man sitting across from her. She wanted to tell herself he was a fraud or, to use his own words, a crazy backwoodsman, but something in her gut told her that, despite his disreputable appearance and intimidating size, Gideon Marshall was telling the truth.
“Let’s try it another way. Start with a list of people who had access to your vehicle, and we’ll work forward from there.”
This would be the moment to tell Gideon about the two men in the tan SUV. And yet, she hesitated. Who knew how he’d react to the news that she had failed to report the incident at the gas station? He already thought that she was irresponsible for driving through the blizzard. Why add fuel to the fire?
“My name would be the only one on that list. I packed the trunk myself last night after the kids dropped their gear off at church. Once everything was loaded, I pulled the van into the garage where it stayed until this morning.”
“Where did the boxes with the Bibles come from?” Gideon leaned forward, his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees.
Was it her imagination, or was this “little talk” turning into a full-scale interrogation? If she and Gideon were actors in a TV crime drama, this would be the moment when she’d refuse to answer any more questions until she talked to her lawyer.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They were stacked by the pile of gear, and the boxes were marked BIBLES FOR THE RESERVATION.”
“No signature?”
She shook her head.
“Didn’t that make you suspicious?”
She bit her lip. At the very least, it should have made her curious, but she had been in such a hurry to finish packing that she hadn’t given it a second thought. “This was my first time chaperoning, so I just assumed that bringing along Bibles was part of the routine. We are a church group,