A moment later, Seton speeds up the road in her cruiser, lights flashing. She gets out of the car deliberately and approaches with her hand poised over her holster. “Lock those firearms away,” she says to Freya.
Freya checks the chambers on both rifles and stores them in the gun rack at the back of her truck.
“And the dog,” Seton says. “Let’s put her in my cruiser.”
“Is she under arrest?” Freya asks.
“She should be,” Reid says.
“Zip it,” Seton says. “Both of you.”
Ginger follows Freya to the cruiser and leaps into the back seat. As soon as the car door closes, Reid says, “That thing tried to kill me.”
“You have all your fingers and toes,” Seton says. “Don’t make something out of nothing. Can everyone get along, or do I have to wait for my deputy?”
Reid kicks a stone into the trees. “We’re fine.”
Seton glances at Freya, who nods.
“These two seem to have something between them,” Seton says to me. “Charlie, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Freya came at me with a rifle and an attack dog—” Reid begins, but Seton interrupts him.
“Walk it off,” she says.
Reid charges up the road. Seton watches him for a moment. “Is he hurt?”
“Only his pride,” I say. “He got taken down by two women ... or two females. Freya and Ginger. Now you’re here to berate him, too.”
Freya suppresses a smile, one that feels good to see after these past twenty minutes.
“Keep talking,” Seton says to me, “and don’t believe for a second you’re off the hook for what you did with the podcast. How could you have posted that file without telling me?”
I don’t bother with excuses. “My producer’s taking it down,” I say.
“It’s too late,” Seton says. “The story’s out there and spreading like lice. Ollie from theKingston Gazette’s been hounding us at the station for the last hour. There’ll be others soon. But we can deal with your mess later. Let’s focus on what happened here.”
I cover the events of the last half hour, beginning with emerging from the trail, and ending with pursuing Reid through the forest. “What did I miss?” I ask Freya.
“Only the part where you went commando with the rifle,” she says.
“I wasn’t the only one,” I say.
Seton ignores the bickering as she examines the windshield. “And you didn’t see anyone else in the area besides Reid?”
“Gilcrest was at Burkehaven Farm earlier,” I say.
Seton’s eyes narrow. She’s in full cop mode now. “Meaning?” she says.
I wave a hand toward Freya’s truck. “Shouldn’t the boyfriend be a suspect?”
“That would makeyoua suspect, too,” Seton says. “So quit playing detective.” She turns her attention to Reid as he joins us again. “Have you cooled off?”
“For now,” he says.
A second cruiser speeds up the rutted road, and Maggie, the deputy, gets out. So does Paul, who storms toward us, his face red. He glares at Reid and then me, before pulling Freya in for a protective hug. She crumples against him.
“This road goes right past your place,” Seton says to Paul. “Tell me what you saw.”
