smoothed the girl’s hair over her pillow.
“Now what?” she asked Joe.
She hadn’t fully understood his change of heart—something
about a bird and a man named Boom, but he’d come out of the
woods with a lead on accommodations for the night and a desire to
stay—so she wasn’t complaining.
“Uh, I’m guessing it’s unlocked,” he said defensively.
She arched a brow at that, but the response forming on her tongue
melted away when she noticed the sky. “Look up,” she breathed.
It was as if someone had thrown a blanket of stars over the
earth. Small pinpoints of light stretched overhead, almost dizzying CHILLING EFFECT
in number and brightness. No moon, no clouds. Just stars, some
clustered close together in the black sky and others sprinkled far-
ther apart.
“Whoa.”
He reached for her hand, and they stood together in silence—
their breathing the only sound—and drank in the sight. Th en as if
by unspoken agreement, they walked across the road to the meadow
where just hours earlier she’d found the dead jackrabbit. Th ey settled on the fallen log, and she leaned back against his warm chest and
tipped her face to the galaxies, planets, and constellations swirling above them.
After a long silence, he said, “Th at Boom guy knew about the
embezzlement.”
She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard him and just keep bask-
ing in the majesty of the night sky, but another person who had
information about the funds being siphoned was exactly the sort
of thing she needed to chase down. So, with no small measure of
reluctance, she shifted her weight and tore her eyes away from the
sky to look at her husband.
“He did?”
“Yeah. He said it wasn’t public knowledge, but I don’t know,
Roo. He thinks this thing goes all the way to the top. He made a
lot of noise about some Lee Buckmount guy, who’s the CFO of the
casino, being involved. Th is could be a real hornet’s nest.”
She digested that news then weighed telling him about the
drones. Her deliberation lasted all of about twenty seconds. She
had to tell someone, and she sure couldn’t call Sid, not at this hour, and not until she got the full story from Ruby.
“You’re telling me. Do you know anything about a military
drone testing facility around here?”
He’d been the one to pick Central Oregon as a destination
and appeared to have digested whole travel guides, which he’d been
55
MELISSA F. MILLER
regurgitating in bits at seemingly random intervals through the trip.
She wasn’t convinced a drone testing facility was likely to appear on any lists of can’t-miss local attractions, but judging by the way he leaned forward eagerly, he’d heard something about them.
“Sure. It’s actually right here on the reservation.”
“Shouldn’t it be on a military base?” Ever since Ruby had men-
tioned the testing facility, she’d been puzzling over what possible connection it could have to the White Springs Reservation or any
of the tribes living there. Weren’t military drones the sort of top-secret weaponry that the Defense Department would eagerly clas-
sify as a national security secret? Why would they plop a testing
facility onto a residential area that also served as a major tourist destination?
Joe answered quickly, as if he were pleased to know the answer
to the question. “Well the original plan was to use the facility for civilian drones.”
“Civilian drones? Why do civilians need drones?”
Joe gave her a blank look. “Where’ve you been? Civilians need
drones to take aerial photographs of their vacation homes and to
follow their kids to the bus stop and to spy on their ex-wives—and
someday to drop their packages of socks and dog toys on their front porches.”
She arched a brow. “What in the—never mind. Okay but civil-
ian drones are presumably unarmed, right?”
He shrugged and thought a moment before answering. “I guess,
unless you count cameras and surveillance
“Now what?” she asked Joe.
She hadn’t fully understood his change of heart—something
about a bird and a man named Boom, but he’d come out of the
woods with a lead on accommodations for the night and a desire to
stay—so she wasn’t complaining.
“Uh, I’m guessing it’s unlocked,” he said defensively.
She arched a brow at that, but the response forming on her tongue
melted away when she noticed the sky. “Look up,” she breathed.
It was as if someone had thrown a blanket of stars over the
earth. Small pinpoints of light stretched overhead, almost dizzying CHILLING EFFECT
in number and brightness. No moon, no clouds. Just stars, some
clustered close together in the black sky and others sprinkled far-
ther apart.
“Whoa.”
He reached for her hand, and they stood together in silence—
their breathing the only sound—and drank in the sight. Th en as if
by unspoken agreement, they walked across the road to the meadow
where just hours earlier she’d found the dead jackrabbit. Th ey settled on the fallen log, and she leaned back against his warm chest and
tipped her face to the galaxies, planets, and constellations swirling above them.
After a long silence, he said, “Th at Boom guy knew about the
embezzlement.”
She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard him and just keep bask-
ing in the majesty of the night sky, but another person who had
information about the funds being siphoned was exactly the sort
of thing she needed to chase down. So, with no small measure of
reluctance, she shifted her weight and tore her eyes away from the
sky to look at her husband.
“He did?”
“Yeah. He said it wasn’t public knowledge, but I don’t know,
Roo. He thinks this thing goes all the way to the top. He made a
lot of noise about some Lee Buckmount guy, who’s the CFO of the
casino, being involved. Th is could be a real hornet’s nest.”
She digested that news then weighed telling him about the
drones. Her deliberation lasted all of about twenty seconds. She
had to tell someone, and she sure couldn’t call Sid, not at this hour, and not until she got the full story from Ruby.
“You’re telling me. Do you know anything about a military
drone testing facility around here?”
He’d been the one to pick Central Oregon as a destination
and appeared to have digested whole travel guides, which he’d been
55
MELISSA F. MILLER
regurgitating in bits at seemingly random intervals through the trip.
She wasn’t convinced a drone testing facility was likely to appear on any lists of can’t-miss local attractions, but judging by the way he leaned forward eagerly, he’d heard something about them.
“Sure. It’s actually right here on the reservation.”
“Shouldn’t it be on a military base?” Ever since Ruby had men-
tioned the testing facility, she’d been puzzling over what possible connection it could have to the White Springs Reservation or any
of the tribes living there. Weren’t military drones the sort of top-secret weaponry that the Defense Department would eagerly clas-
sify as a national security secret? Why would they plop a testing
facility onto a residential area that also served as a major tourist destination?
Joe answered quickly, as if he were pleased to know the answer
to the question. “Well the original plan was to use the facility for civilian drones.”
“Civilian drones? Why do civilians need drones?”
Joe gave her a blank look. “Where’ve you been? Civilians need
drones to take aerial photographs of their vacation homes and to
follow their kids to the bus stop and to spy on their ex-wives—and
someday to drop their packages of socks and dog toys on their front porches.”
She arched a brow. “What in the—never mind. Okay but civil-
ian drones are presumably unarmed, right?”
He shrugged and thought a moment before answering. “I guess,
unless you count cameras and surveillance
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