Framed For Christmas

It was going to be strange to have company after two years of living alone. But being hospitable didn’t mean turning a blind eye to signs that something was amiss. Gideon watched as his dog ran in wide circles around the kids, his excitement evident in his every move. Even though Lou couldn’t use words to communicate, he knew how to make his thoughts known in other ways. There was a definite set to the shepherd’s eyes, a tension in his jaw. And when he started pawing at the ground, as he had been doing when they were back at the van, it was a signal that he was on aggressive alert.

Gideon made a split-second decision as he waited for Dani and the teens to make their way down the incline. As soon as they were settled in for the night, he’d double back to investigate. Even though he no longer worked for the DEA, he still had a responsibility as a citizen. If there were drugs in the cargo hold of the van, he would do his part to stop them from reaching the reservation.

Inside the cabin, he showed the kids where to stow their gear and offered a two-second tour. “Bathroom, bedroom and open space for all the rest.” The kids shuffled into the main room and made a beeline for the floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered a panoramic view of a full moon illuminating the frozen lake.

“Wow!” one of the older boys said as he peered through the glass. “How far is it to the other side?”

“About three miles straight across.” Gideon tossed a couple of logs onto the fire and then pointed to a cluster of lights on the other side of the shore. “That’s the town over there. Tomorrow morning, if it’s clear, you’ll be able to see the reservation on the left.”

As the kids gathered for a glimpse of Dagger Lake, he rummaged through his cabinets and located a couple of bags of chips. He set them on the counter next to a jug of orange juice and a stack of plastic cups. “Make yourselves at home. I have a few things to do outside, but I’ll work on supper as soon as I get back.” Five minutes inside a one-bedroom cabin with seven noisy teenagers, and he was more than ready for another walk with Lou in the brisk night air.

The snow was still coming down hard, and a sharp north wind had buried the remnants of their footprints under heavy drifts. Not for the first time, Gideon was thankful for the insulating layers of clothing he was wearing underneath his parka. He had learned early the benefits of trapping his body warmth to keep his core at a comfortable temperature, even when it was below zero.

He’d been five when he experienced his first North Dakota winter, a city boy unaccustomed to the harsh winds and cold temperatures of the northern plains. His father’s unexpected passing had left his Sioux mother shattered and bereft, so it fell on her brother, a tribal elder, to take his nephew under his wing. And thirty years later, those early life lessons still remained a part of Gideon’s daily routine.

Slipping a high-beam flashlight from his pocket, he flicked it on, even though it didn’t look like he was going to need it to help him find his way. The sun had set an hour ago, but the moonshine reflected against a ceiling of light clouds cast a polished brightness on the snow.

In places, the drifts were several feet deep, but he made quick time as he covered the distance between the cabin and the ridge. It was familiar territory. He and Lou hiked this path almost every day. He couldn’t recall a time when his loyal shepherd wasn’t ready for a walk, and tonight was no exception. Lou might be over-the-hill when compared to his canine colleagues at the DEA, but in many ways, he still seemed like an energetic puppy, always ready to play. But at the moment, Lou stuck close beside him, almost as if he recognized that this particular trek was for work and not pleasure.

As Gideon reached the top of the ridge, he stopped for a moment to enjoy the sharp bite of bitter cold that always made him feel especially alive. This was his favorite time of the year, even though these short days of mid-December held the promise of even chillier weather in the weeks to come. Usually, when he got to this point in his walk, he would hear the gentle hum of traffic on the road ahead. But because of the travel advisory, most people had opted to stay inside for the night. Except... Now, that was odd. A tan SUV with tinted windows and a cracked bumper was parked on the shoulder, its engine idling.

His suspicions clicked to high alert as he approached the vehicle. When he was two feet away, the driver’s-side door opened, and a bald man in a navy windbreaker stepped out.

“Hey,” the man said. “Quite the night for a walk, eh?”

“It’s cold,” Gideon agreed as he bent to look at the passenger inside the car. Clean-shaven, stocky build, probably not much of a talker if he were to guess from the man’s gloomy countenance. “Do you gentlemen need help?”

“Nope. We’re fine.” The guy in the navy windbreaker dismissed his concerns with a flick of the wrist. “We’re in from Fargo, but we didn’t expect this much snow cover on the highway.”

“You might want to head home and try back later. The storm’s still blowing in, so it’ll be rough for a while.”

“Thanks,” the driver said. “Appreciate the advice.” He slid behind the wheel and did a U-turn on the tarmac.

Gideon watched the taillights of the SUV disappear down the road. When it was completely out of sight, he made his way down the embankment toward the van. His eyes fixed on the rear bumper of the disabled vehicle. The V-shaped fold in the center matched the crack he had noticed on the front of the SUV, a fact he filed away for later consideration.

Using a blade from his pocketknife, he pried open the lock on the gate of the trunk. The kids had taken most of their gear when they left for the cabin, but a few random personal items and bits of trash remained. He tossed a notebook and a bag of Twizzlers into the back seat and whistled for Lou. The shepherd jumped into the cargo hold and began sniffing at the floor. Good thing he was trained to ignore food smells. Wrappers and stained paper napkins were scattered everywhere. But Lou was as single-minded as he was tenacious. His nose twitched as he pawed the top of one of the cardboard boxes that had been shoved toward the back of the trunk.

“What’s in there, boy?” he asked as he reached over and slid open the flap of a box marked BIBLES FOR THE RESERVATION. The pleasant scent of new books assailed his nostrils, and for a minute, he entertained the notion that Lou had been mistaken.

He should have known better. Underneath the top layer of Bibles, a dozen or so plastic bags of loose powder formed a soft white nest. His stomach dropped. Even though this was what he’d been expecting, he had hoped for a different outcome. Packets of loose white powder always meant the same thing. Drugs. He fumbled in his pocket and located his phone, which he used to snap a dozen or so pictures of the stash. Good thing he still had a narcotics identification kit at the cabin. He’d test the powder when he got home, but his gut told him it was cocaine. He loaded the packets into his oversize backpack and shoved the box back where he had found it. This wasn’t the way they did things back at the DEA, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

At least he was wearing gloves.

His ears still upright, Lou nudged a second box and then a third one. The contents were all the same. Anger surged through Gideon’s body like a flame. Even now, two years off the job, the sight of such a huge cache of drugs filled him with revulsion. And fear. There was enough white powder in the back of the van to make someone desperate enough to kill.

TWO

“This place is awesome,” Josh exclaimed. “All the furniture is supersized.”

“Mr. Marshall has good taste,” Mary Kate agreed as she ran her fingers along the cushion of one of the leather sofas in the center of the room. “And look how the gold design of the rug matches the rest of the decor.”

“But there’s no TV,” Gabe pointed out.

“And no Christmas tree, either.” Annalise complained. “You’d think with all the pines around here it wouldn’t be that hard to chop one down.”

“Speaking of trees, did anyone notice the massive pile of wood by the barn?” Josh asked. “It must have taken hours to split all those logs.”

“I don’t think it was a problem.” Joe flexed his biceps in a show of solidarity with their host. “Did you see his arms? He must work out constantly to have muscles that size.”

“Let’s take a break from the personal analysis of our host and review the plan.” Dani blushed self-consciously as she glanced nervously at the door. She had also noticed Gideon’s strong arms, but it would be embarrassing if he walked in and overheard any part of their conversation, especially the comments concerning his physique.

“When do you think we’ll get to the reservation?” Lucy asked. “I can’t wait to see all the kids we met last summer.”

“Soon, I hope.” She tried again to get reception on her cell and frowned at the blank screen. “By tomorrow, for sure.”

Definitely by tomorrow, if she had anything to say about it. She had been quick to reassure Lucy, but the fact of the matter was that all of their parents would be worried sick when they found out the group hadn’t arrived as expected. And, with the phones down, there was no way to let them know that everyone was safe.

“Hey, Miss Jones,” Josh called out. “You want a bowl of chips?” He was standing by the kitchen counter, acting like the mayor of Dagger Lake as he dispensed snacks and drinks to the rest of the kids.

“No, thanks,” she said. Given the knot in her stomach, it was unlikely she’d have any appetite for dinner. An image flashed through her brain of the expressionless faces of the men at the gas station. Who were they, and why were they following her? She wanted to believe that any sinister thoughts she might conjure were the work of an overactive imagination. But part of her—the part that could never forget what had happened to her sister, Ali—knew that no one was ever safe.

The door banged open and Gideon walked into the cabin, a string of cleaned perch in his hand. “Here’s today’s main course,” he said. “Caught fresh this morning from the best ice fishing hole on the lake.”

“I hate fish,” Ellie moaned.

“You’ll like these,” he assured her. “And if you don’t, you can close your eyes and pretend you’re eating chicken.”

Despite the lighthearted banter, there was a marked change in Gideon’s demeanor, and Dani wondered what had happened since he left to finish his chores. His mouth was set in an anxious frown, and his eyes were wary. He placed the fish on the counter and turned to face the group.

“Before I start to make dinner, I need to grab a few things from the barn. Maybe your leader can give me a hand. You kids can set the table while we’re gone. Paper plates are in the cupboard above the sink, and folding chairs are stacked in the closet by the door.”

The edge to his tone made Dani suspect there was more on the agenda than retrieving supplies. As she slipped on her coat and followed him outside, she found herself wondering what could possibly have happened to explain the shift in his attitude.

She trailed Gideon and Lou along the tramped-down path to the barn, a ramshackle building with a painted red door. Gideon pulled out a set of keys to unlatch the rusty padlock, then opened the door and flicked on a light switch, bathing the space in a shadowy glow. She detected the scent of fresh hay and a slight whiff of something that smelled like oil. In the center of the room was an aluminum boat with a shiny new motor set next to it on a tarp. Along the back wall, an old push lawn mower, some power tools and a few broken chairs shared space with a beat-up snowmobile with a black leather seat held together by duct tape.

Gideon sat on a bale of straw and, with a curt nod, indicated that she should do the same. Lou shot her a look of supreme disillusionment as he curled into a ball beside his master’s booted feet.

“I thought we could have a little talk without the kids around.” Gideon’s face was a mask of shadows in the dim light.

She nodded. She couldn’t imagine what he needed to talk to her about, unless he was rethinking his decision to allow the group to stay in the cabin. Maybe he was about to suggest that they set up camp in the barn, which would be fine, though slightly chilly for those whose sleeping bags lacked extra insulation.

But any type of shelter was better than the alternative. She smiled encouragingly, which caused him to glare back at her. He seemed to be expecting a different sort of response, and when he finally spoke, his words 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, after all.”

Gideon shifted forward. “I noticed the name of your congregation stenciled on the side door of the van. Who’s in charge of maintenance for the vehicle?”

“The custodian at the church. But there’s no way he’s involved in this. He’s been around for as long as I can remember. And he’s at least seventy-five, with a bad back, so clearly, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“Doesn’t fit the profile?” Gideon repeated her words with more than a trace of cynicism. “When you’ve worked with the DEA for as many years as I did, you learn that just about everyone fits the profile.”

Gideon turned up the heat under the frying pan as he prepared to sear the fillets. A shortage of supplies had forced him to keep the menu simple—fresh fish, a green salad, a dozen or so cut-up oranges and a crisped loaf of day-old bread. He was glad he’d made it to the grocery store yesterday before the storm. He just hoped there would be enough food to satisfy a group of hungry teens.

As he added a couple of pats of butter to the pan, he took a moment to consider the likelihood that Dani Jones was not the innocent chaperone she seemed to be and was instead the ringleader of a major drug-smuggling operation.

The jury was still out on that one. In his experience, beautiful women tended to attract trouble, and Dani Jones was definitely beautiful. On their walk back from the barn, he’d noticed how the snowflakes stuck to her long dark lashes and how her cheeks glowed from the cold. He did admire her spunk and loyalty when she rallied to the defense of the kids. A woman like that had courage. And she had seemed genuinely surprised that the Bibles had been used as decoys to hide cocaine. But sincerity could be used to mask duplicity, and very few people were who they pretended to be.

He’d learned that lesson the hard way, first as a child growing up on the reservation, and later at the DEA, when Jonas—his partner, a man he had trusted with his life—set him up to take the fall for the death of an innocent witness. Gideon still found it hard to wrap his head around the facts of the betrayal. A seemingly airtight case against a ruthless drug lord that hinged on the testimony of a brave young woman. It should have been a slam dunk. But, instead, he had let his guard down and allowed Jonas to take the lead on the investigation, unaware of his partner’s sinister agenda. Could the same type of subterfuge be true of Dani? What sort of deceit was she hiding behind that guileless face?

Complicating matters was the unlikely coincidence of the tan SUV with the dented bumper idling near the spot where the church van had skidded off the road. Did that prove that Dani was telling the truth, at least in her suspicions about being knocked off the road? Without more conclusive data, it was impossible to say.

As the group took their seats around the table, he set two heaping platters of fish in the center and then slid into an open chair between two of the kids. But before he could give the call to dig in, the petite blond-haired girl on his left—Lucy, if he remembered correctly from Dani’s introductions—reached over and took his hand. He glanced at her to see what she wanted, but her eyes were shut. So were Dani’s as she began to pray.

“Lord Jesus, thank You for the warmth of this cabin and for the companionship of good friends. Thank You for keeping us safe and for helping us find shelter from the storm. And thank You for the food You have provided to nourish our bodies and for our host, who rescued us from the ditch and cooked this meal before us on the table. We are grateful for his hospitality and kindness.”