Nobody's Fool by L.J. Breedlove

Author:L.J. Breedlove
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, romantic suspense, police procedural, Alaska, Native Alaskan, Native American, woman sleuth
Publisher: L.J. Breedlove
Published: 2022-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Paul Kitka went to check with Mickey as they waited for their next plow to arrive. He walked out to the highway and looked at the road ahead. Yeah, they’d be waiting all right.

“Want to ride with me for a ways?” Mickey asked him. He hesitated, looking toward Dace who was talking with Naomi and the other women.

“Yeah,” Paul said. “We should talk. Let me tell Dace.”

Dace nodded and waved at Mickey. “She tired of Carlos’ questions yet?” she asked laughing.

“Maybe he will play cards with Rafe,” Paul murmured in her ear. “I thought I’d go crazy watching him play. I wanted scream, red 7 on black 8, red 7 on black 8.”

Dace giggled. “And here I thought you were trying to nap,” she teased.

He grinned at her. “Go in, get warm,” he said. She nodded, and Paul went to hop up into the cab of Mickey’s big rig. Just then a plow came down from the north, swung into the parking lot, and turned around pointing back the way he’d come. Mickey went to talk to him. Paul watched as she shook his hand, laughed at something he said. They both turned to look at the RV, and Paul grinned.

That RV was the most interesting thing to happen all month, he thought. Well, outside of Lanky getting hoodwinked, kidnapped and dropped in the Gates of the Arctic wilderness by a psychopathic woman. But that story wasn’t out yet. It would be, Paul thought, and it struck him funny. Lanky might hope it didn’t get out, but it would. Of course, it would. They were bringing along one of Alaska’s most well-known television reporters, after all.

He was still laughing when Mickey swung up into her seat. “What’s so funny?” she asked. She put the truck into gear and started it rolling after the plow.

“Just thinking about how Lanky is going to cope when this story gets out,” Paul said, still amused. “And you know it will — we’ve got a reporter with us.”

“Serves him right,” Mickey muttered, but she was laughing too. “Old fool.”

Paul laughed again, and then pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call J.B. for an update,” he said. “Didn’t think I wanted the whole group to hear it.”

She nodded.

“Yo,” J.B. said. Paul rolled his eyes.

“I’ve got three-bars,” Paul said, referring to his phone’s reception. “What have you got?”

“Bonkers,” J.B. said. “So, old man Garrison — and that’s what everyone calls him, even his attorney, who was not amused to be rousted from his Thanksgiving dinner. Garrison died six weeks ago. He left a lot of small amounts — small by the Garrison heirs’ standards at least — to most of the family. But the bulk of it goes to whichever of the oldest grandchildren can go into the lodge on Garrison Lake, and survive there with a team of five, and an Alaskan guide. At least he wasn’t trying to kill them, but man, they had a death wish to take him up on it. They had to do it in November.

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