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That didn’t reassure him at all. “What?”
She winked at him, mischief simmering in her warm brown eyes. “Oh, that I haven’t decided yet whether or not to hook up with you, but if I do, it’ll be because you’re hot, not because I need a provider or a protector.” She reconsidered for a moment. “Okay, maybe a protector, depending on the circumstances.”
“So a hookup’s on the table. Good to know.”
She shot him a “don’t push it” look, which made him grin. Flirty energy flared between them, like champagne bubbles filling up the cab of his pickup.
“I also plan to talk about my views on women’s reproductive rights and equal pay, hope you don’t mind.”
He must have blanched, because she burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get personal with a bunch of strangers. I’m just here as the out-of-town entertainment, I get it.”
If only he could fill her in on the real purpose of their trip out here. She could probably be helpful when it came to information gathering. She already knew about Daniel and Ruth, after all; that was news to him, and pretty unsettling. Did they dislike outsiders enough to get rid of someone dating one of their daughters?
Manslaughter by avalanche…how would that even work?
People around town kept saying that Daniel knew to get out of the way of an oncoming avalanche. Everyone around here knew the basics. Know where the danger zones were. Don’t make loud noises that might trigger one. If one came at you, grab onto something solid so you don’t get swept away. Use a swimming motion to stay at the surface instead of getting buried. If you’re in a car, roll up the windows and turn off the engine so you didn’t asphyxiate. Or better yet—outrace the avalanche and don’t get buried in the first place.
Why hadn’t Daniel just driven away? Sure, they’d found empty bottles of whiskey in his truck, but Daniel had been known to plow neighborhoods stoned out of his mind. He was a stoner, but a functional one. Maybe the combination of weed and alcohol had knocked him out? But why would he be drinking like that? Had something happened to upset him? Maybe Ruth had ended things.
Luke Chilkoot strode across the clearing from a large structure that must be a shop. While he still had a chance, Sam scanned all the buildings that he could make out. One of the issues that the FBI had run into was that the Chilkoots tended to build in the shadows of tall evergreen groves. Their satellite photos revealed almost nothing, except that structures kept proliferating.
Was all the new construction simply to create new spaces for the next generation? Also, where did the Chilkoot young adults meet their spouses? They never left the compound, so far as anyone knew. Only a select few of the family came into town. Ruth was one of them because she was a skilled weaver who made the fabric for their clothes. She came to town to purchase wool and other raw materials. Was that how she and Daniel had met?
“Kids, time for bed,” Luke ordered the children. Although there was nothing threatening in the words, the kids all shot off toward the house, no laggards.
“Welcome,” Luke Chilkoot called to them as he neared the truck. His expression didn’t read “welcoming” so much as “wary.” For the umpteenth time, Sam wondered why he’d issued this invitation.
With a quick glance at Molly and a reassuring smile, Sam swung out of the truck to shake the man’s hand. A moment later, Molly joined them, tightening the belt on her sweater.
“Hello again,” she said politely to Luke. “I’m Molly Evans.”
“Sam’s girl,” said Luke. “I remember. Naomi’s anxious to meet you.”
Sam put an arm around Molly’s shoulder. Although he felt her tense, a moment later she nestled closer against him. “I’m looking forward to meeting her too,” she said. “I admire her already. It can’t be easy living out here in the winter.”
“She wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Luke’s strained smile echoed the undertone of irritation in his voice. He must not like any criticism of their way of life.
“Oh, of course!” she said. “Just because something isn’t easy doesn’t mean it isn’t worthwhile. Just the opposite, I find. The more challenging something is, the more satisfying in the end. Naomi must be very…satisfied.” She trailed off under Luke’s hard stare.
It was everything Sam could do not to laugh. Trust Molly to bring the entertainment right off the bat.
“You got some water for Buttercup here?” he asked, to break the incredibly awkward moment.
“Yeah, come on in. He’d better stay in the truck, though. Our dogs are trained to go after strange mutts. I have them closed up in the shop for now.”
“Buttercup isn’t much of a fighter.” Which wasn’t entirely true. Buttercup wasn’t an attack dog, but if someone came after Sam, he could be absolutely lethal. A lost skier had wandered onto his property once and Buttercup had gone nuts.
He gave a signal to his dog, who subsided back onto the seat. At the same time, he noted that Luke clocked the gesture, and knew it meant that his dogs weren’t the only well-trained ones around.
Luke led the way into the house, which was built longhouse style, one large structure that was several hundred feet long, and two generous stories tall. It was constructed from logs and lumber that had been milled into rough dimensional boards. Sam guessed they’d milled it themselves onsite, since a professional sawmill would have produced a smoother surface.
Luke caught him checking out the siding. “My brother’s the mechanical whiz. He made us a mini sawmill when we first came here. We mill all our own wood. Every structure here is made from trees on our property.”
Hard to miss the pride in his voice. Sam could work with that.
“Very impressive. How long did it take to build all this?”
“We started with a couple of cabins just for shelter, then worked on this longhouse for about two years.”
