Free Points West (A Butterscotch Jones Mystery Book 5) by Melanie Jackson Page A

time?” I scolded. “I
promised him he would have a better flight.”
    Danny turned to watch as a second wave of nausea washed over
the FBI agent.
    “Oh, him,” he replied dismissively. “He asked for it.”
    The Wings still looked guilty but stood his ground as if his
simple statement explained everything.
    “Danny,” I replied, shaking my head in disapproval.
    “Well, he did!” The Wings simply walked off in search of Big
John to help him unload supplies. I walked to the agent’s side to see if he
needed any help getting up. Max kept his distance.
    “That bastard!” Agent Desoto declared, looking up with angry eyes. “That was the worst roller
coaster ride of my life.”
    “That bad, was it?” I tried for sympathy.
    “He beat my head against the ceiling the entire time and had
me filling bags with vomit minutes after leaving the ground,” Desoto replied.
“And who knew you could fly one of those things upside down.”
    “What did you say to him to get his dander up?” I asked.
    “The wrong thing, apparently.”
    Desoto rose, shakily, and I followed him back to the plane
to retrieve his bag. The inside of the plane smelled pretty bad, which might
have explained why the Wings had left the pilot’s door open after exiting the
craft.
    “Do you have somewhere I can clean up before I see people?”
Desoto asked.
    “Sure. Follow me,” I said, leading him to my cabin. “I hope
you get your appetite back soon.”
    “Why?” Desoto sounded wary.
    “We’re having a wake for a hand. The food is usually pretty
good at these affairs.”
    “A wake for a hand?” he repeated.
    “It was all that was left after the bears got done,” I
explained.
    “Holy Christ. You choose to live here?”
    “Yes,” I said evenly. “It’s probably hard to believe, but
there are things more dangerous than bears.”
    Reminded of why he was there, the agent’s manner shifted. He
even managed to stand straighter.
    “You maybe want to fill me in?”
    “I think Chuck had best do that,” I said. “I’m not real up
on tech things.”

 
    *   *   *

 
    The Mountie looked up from Big John’s computer as
Butterscotch and Agent Desoto came through the door.
    “I’ll get you something to settle your stomach and the
bathroom is through there,” Butterscotch said, taking off her coat.
    “Danny the daredevil has struck again?” the Mountie guessed
and Butterscotch nodded.
    Max finally came over to sniff their guest. Desoto got
points for offering his hand without flinching or asking stupid questions like
would the dog bite.
    “Take a minute to settle in and then I’ll show you what
we’ve found,” Chuck said. “Hopefully you can figure it out because I’m
stymied.”
    Desoto turned away. His eyes moved about quickly, taking in
the oil lamps and the old crank phone.
    “Do you think you can get a blood sample through customs if
you have to?” Chuck asked.
    The agent turned back. He started to speak but then shook
his head.
    “I need a minute.”
    Desoto took more like three minutes, but his complexion
looked healthier when he returned.
    “Okay, show me what you’ve got,” he said, taking a seat near
Chuck.
    “First, let me introduce myself. I’m Charles Goodhead of the
RCMP.”
    Desoto nodded. They did not shake hands.
    Chuck turned the laptop so Desoto could see it.
    “This isn’t my area,” Desoto said. “Can you give me any idea
what I am looking at? Besides a lot of encrypted files?”
    “This was found on a memory stick in the pocket of a crooked
police officer of the RCMP who died on Butterscotch’s doorstep earlier this week.
He had been shot and poisoned.”
    “I see,” Desoto said slowly. “But this isn’t—” He stopped.
“I was going to say that this isn’t my business, but obviously you think it
is.”
    “This officer was more than just crooked. He was a traitor.
Rumor has it that he had dealings with drug dealers, the Russian mafia, the
CIA—basically anyone who would pay him.”