The Advocate's Felony

by Teresa Burrell

  Fifteen minutes later Sabre and JP were back on the road. Thick snowflakes falling on the windshield were making it more and more difficult to see.

  “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” JP asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  They drove for about ten more minutes without any further conversation. Sabre knew JP wasn’t one hundred percent on board with this idea, but he went along with it because he didn’t want her going alone. She looked at the time on her phone again.

  “Waiting for Ron’s call?” JP asked.

  “Yes, he should’ve called by now. It has me a little worried.”

  “I expect he’ll call as soon as he can.” JP glanced over at her. “Any ideas on how to find him once we get to Clancy?”

  “You’re the detective.” She smirked.

  “A detective without a clue.”

  They continued to climb toward the top of Fourth of July Pass. Just before they reached it, there was a turn-off primarily used by eighteen-wheelers. They were lined up four deep in two rows.

  “Why are they stopped there?” Sabre asked.

  “The inside row is probably sleeping. The outside row could be stopped to put chains on, taking a break, or waiting for the snow to let up. I’ve been on these passes before. Lookout Pass is worse than this one. It gets pretty hairy going down this mountain into Montana. We have about twenty miles of steep, windy road ahead.”

  The snow fell harder as they started down the mountain. Snow-covered forests of red fir, tamarack, and pine lined the highway on both sides. The huge trees with massive girths were almost solid white. Everything—the road, trees, cars, sky, and even the air—looked solid white, making it very difficult to see. There wasn’t color anywhere except for the occasional reflector on the snow markers jutting out of the ground every quarter mile or so. The metal guardrails on both sides of the interstate were covered with snow making it almost impossible to judge the edge of the roadway. JP was unsure of the speed limit but it didn’t really matter. He slowed to thirty-five.

  “Can you even see the road?” Sabre asked. “There are no shadows. It’s hard to see where the road begins or ends.”

  “I feel like an ant swimming through a gallon of milk,” JP said.

  About every eighth or quarter of a mile the road would enter into a long curve and then another going the opposite direction. At a faster speed, Sabre was sure she would’ve been sick to her stomach. They continued down the mountain, never seeing another structure. Nothing but trees lined the road. The snow berm the plow had left behind stood higher than their Jeep.

  Lookout Pass was even more treacherous than the Fourth of July. JP continued to creep along, straining to see through the snow. After about twenty miles of twists and turns the road leveled out and JP was able to speed up to about fifty miles per hour. He pulled his shoulders back and stretched his muscles that had tightened from the tension of the drive. Twilight had sneaked up on them and JP reached for his lights before he remembered he had turned them on earlier because of the storm.

  “I’m glad we made it down before it got dark,” Sabre said.

  “Me too, but sometimes it’s easier to see at night.” JP pulled off to the side of the road and stopped.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “I need to take the chains off. I think we’ll be okay from here on out.”

  When JP stopped, Sabre opened her door to get out, but when she felt the cold air hit her face she said, “I think I’ll wait here.”

  “Good call,” JP said, and stepped out.

  The thick snow continued to fall but melted when the flakes met the windshield, sparkling as they hit. Sabre thought it was like watching fireflies. It was almost hypnotic. For a short while it distracted her from her problems, but soon she was brought back to reality. She mulled over again what Ron had said about where he was going: “the ultimate place.”

  Maybe Clancy was only a stop along the way to “the ultimate place.” If Ron would just call, she could convince him to tell her where he was. She was sure that if he knew she was out looking for him in this weather, he would tell her. She kept checking her phone as if that might help it ring.

  JP returned to the car. He shivered. “Brr…. It’s colder than a mother-in-law’s kiss out there.”

  Sabre smiled and turned up the heat as they drove away. By the time they reached Missoula the snow was falling so hard the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up. Darkness had set in some time back, a lot earlier than in southern California. Sabre checked the time. It was nearly six o’clock with the time change. She was pretty certain she wouldn’t be hearing from Ron now.

  “I think we should stay here tonight,” JP said. “Maybe it’ll be better by morning.”

  Sabre didn’t argue.

  Chapter 21

  At daybreak Sabre and JP ate their breakfast and continued their journey to Clancy. The snow had stopped sometime during the night and the roads were already plowed, making the rest of the drive a lot easier than the previous day.

  Still no call had come from Ron.

  They had been on the road for about an hour when Sabre exclaimed, “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” JP asked.

  Sabre beamed. “I know where Ron is. ‘The ultimate place,’ T-U-P. He’s at his friend’s cabin in the mountains near Clancy. His name is Tuper. I kept wondering why ‘Clancy’ sounded so familiar. It’s because I heard it years ago from Ron. That has to be it.” Sabre could hardly contain her pleasure at her discovery.

  “And you know where this cabin is?”

  Her smile faded a little. “Not exactly. All I remember is that you turn up the mountain at the corner of the ‘old folks home.’ I think it’s a convalescent hospital or nursing home or something. But how many can there be in a small town?”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know, but someone in town must know where Tuper lives.”

  “Is that his last name or first name?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all I ever heard Ron call him.” She looked at JP and tilted her head. “I know it’s not much.”

  “It’s something,” JP said. “It’s more than we had an hour ago.”

  ***

  Two-and-a-half hours later they drove into Clancy, Montana. The traffic had slowed to about twenty-five miles per hour as they approached the town.

  “I didn’t see any roadwork signs. I wonder if there was an accident,” Sabre commented.

  “I think you’re right. There are lots of lights flashing ahead.”

  The traffic grew slower and slower and nearly stopped at Railroad Way, which appeared to be the only exit to the town. They took the off-ramp, turned right, and there were four police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance, along with about fifteen cars parked along the road. A small group of onlookers tried to get a glimpse of what was probably the most excitement there had been in Clancy in the last twenty years. Many of the spectators were standing outside their cars.

  “I don’t think that’s an accident. At least I don’t see any damaged cars around,” Sabre said.

  “Me neither.”

  JP pulled over at the front of the line and stepped out into the snow. Three cars behind them a young couple were sitting on the hood huddled together while observing the proceedings. JP walked back to them. Sabre followed.

  “What’s all the excitement?” JP asked.

  “Someone was shot and killed there early this morning,” the young man said.

  The woman with him pointed to a man standing across the street. He was surrounded by a growing crowd. “That guy over there saw it.”

  “He saw the shooting?”

  “Actually, he heard the shot and then his dog started barking. He came out his front door and saw a car speed away.”

  Sabre took hold of JP’s arm to steady herself. Her greatest fear was that it might be Ron. JP must have thought the same thing because he asked, “Do you know who he is?”

  “It’s not a local,�
� the young man said. “Some stranger passing through, I guess.”

  Sabre tightened her grip. “Do you know what he looked like?” Sabre asked, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat.

  “No, I didn’t see him. Someone said he was blond. That’s about all I know.”

  “Thanks,” Sabre mumbled.

  They walked back toward the small crowd that had gathered about fifty feet from where the victim lay. The police had blocked that section off so no one could get too close and disturb the crime scene, but now and again they could get a glimpse of the body.

  “JP,” she said, her voice cracking. “It could be Ron.”

  “I know. But don’t jump to any conclusions yet. It could be a million other people.”

  He turned to the man standing next to him. “Do you know if they have an approximate age?”

  “He’s about thirty-five,” the man said with authority. “Some homeless guy.”

  Sabre immediately realized that Ron was essentially homeless and wondered how bedraggled he may look now.

  A woman shook her head from side to side. “Is that not right?” JP asked her.

  “I heard he was an old man who was out walking at night. Probably has Alzheimer’s or something.”

  Two other spectators joined in with different ages and stories about the victim.

  Sabre wanted to ask more questions, but JP said, “Let’s go.”

  “I need to know,” Sabre told him.

  “But these people don’t know anything. They’re like a bunch of hens in a henhouse. One clucks and the next one clucks louder. The only thing they seem to know is that it’s a man, and I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

  Sabre still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as they walked back to the car. It wasn’t until they were inside that she realized how cold she was. “So how are we going to find out?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.

  “We have a couple of options. We can come forward and tell the cops who we are and who we’re looking for and they will likely let you see if you can identify him. But if it’s not him, and chances are that it isn’t, that opens us up to a lot of questions and it leads Detectives McLaughlin and Poor right to Ron.”

  “Or?”

  “Or I can contact one of my law enforcement friends and see if they can find out anything for us. That might take a little longer, but it wouldn’t be as risky.”

  “Let’s do that. In the meantime, why don’t we see if anyone in town knows where Tuper lives…if he’s even still here.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Not much.”

  “If he’s a drinker, our best bet would be a bar.”

  Sabre thought for a minute. “Actually, I don’t think he drank or smoked. I remember Ron saying that Tuper had only three loves: women, cards, and guns. Ron was sure that at least one of them would eventually take him to his grave.”

  “So we need to try a whorehouse, a casino, or a gun store?”

  Sabre smiled. “Maybe we should start with a casino if they have one here.”

  They stopped at the first open business they saw, a place called Chubby’s Diner. Sabre went inside while JP called his friend, Ernie.

  A young couple sat at a small table. The man was holding an infant wrapped in a bright pink blanket. The only other person in the diner was the waitress, who looked no more than sixteen years old. Sabre assumed there was probably a cook in the kitchen and hoped one of them knew Tuper or could at least direct them to a casino.

  Sabre approached the waitress at the counter. She didn’t bother to sit. “Hi, I’m looking for a man who used to live around here. His name is Tuper. Would you happen to know him?”

  The waitress shook her head. “I haven’t lived here that long, only a couple years. I don’t know no one by that name. I’ll ask Randy if he knows.” She walked through an archway.

  The man holding the baby spoke up. “I know Tuper. Interesting old geezer. I haven’t seen him in a few months, but that’s not unusual. Far as I know, he still lives in the Elkhorn Mountains.”

  “You know where he lives?” Sabre asked.

  “Just know he lives in a cabin in the mountains. I’ve been told it’s not easy to get to, but I’ve never been. He’s not the most social guy around.”

  Just then a tall, leggy man with a big, gray mustache stepped into the dining room from the kitchen. “You the one looking for Tuper?” He looked Sabre over from head to foot.

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “I’ve known him for years.”

  “Have you ever been to his house?”

  “No. He’s not one to invite anyone to his home.” He must have noticed the disappointment on Sabre’s face because he said, “If he’s in or around town, you can likely find him at Papa Ray’s in Montana City. It’s Thursday so you’ll likely find him at the card table. They only play on Thursdays and Saturdays.”

  “How far is it from here?”

  “About five or six miles. You’ll have to drive back toward Helena.” He gave Sabre the exact directions.

  “One more thing: what exit do I take to get to the Elkhorn Mountains?”

  “You go back to Railroad Way, turn right and go under the highway, then left onto the frontage road. That’ll take you to Warm Springs Creek Road. Make a left at the nursing home and go up the mountain.”

  “So if I’m coming from Montana City?”

  “There’s only one exit for this town and that’s Railroad Way, which is a mess right now. Someone was shot near that exit and between the cops and the observers, it’s really backed up.”

  “Yeah, we saw that when we came in. Do you know what happened?”

  “No idea. A dozen people have been in here this morning, which means we got a dozen different stories.”

  Sabre thanked him and left.

  In the car, she told JP what she had learned. “How about you? Did you reach Ernie?”

  “I did, and he’ll call me as soon as he knows something.”

  “Did he ask you why you needed it?”

  “He never does. He always just asks, ‘Are you in trouble?’”

  “How did you answer?”

  “Same way I always do. I said, ‘Not yet.’”

  Chapter 22

  Sabre and JP drove back to Montana City and they both went into Papa Ray’s Casino. Sabre was accustomed to the casinos in southern California and Nevada. To her this looked more like a large bar with a few slot machines and some poker tables. She could smell the alcohol as she approached the bar. JP hung back as Sabre questioned the bartender about Tuper. She had no idea what Ron’s friend looked like and she was frustrated because she hadn’t asked the cook for a description.

  “Excuse me. I’m looking for Tuper. Is he here today?”

  “Let me check.” The bartender looked her over, much as the cook at Chubby’s Diner had done earlier. “Nice,” he said. Then he shook his head and mumbled, “I don’t know how he does it.”

  Meanwhile, JP walked toward the four poker tables, two of which were filled with men of varying ages and one lone woman who looked totally out of place. She didn’t stand out because she was the only woman, but because she looked like Aunt Bee from The Andy Griffith Show. Her light brown hair with two wide gray streaks, one on each side of her head, was pulled back loosely and pinned up in a pile of little curls on the back of her head. Her plump body was clothed in a flowered dress, and a ring of pearls lay around her neck. JP glanced around for Andy and Barney Fife.

  The bartender left Sabre and came up to the table. He caught the eye of the dealer, who nodded at him ever so slightly. Then the bartender leaned down to the ear of a tall man with deep-set eyes and a mustache and whispered something in his ear. The man folded his hand and stood up. He said something, which JP couldn’t hear from where he was standing. JP dropped back as the man picked up his hat and left the table.

  JP saw him look over at the bar toward Sabre. He walked a little closer, took a good look at Sabr
e, and then turned and walked toward the door. JP followed him outside and watched him get into a 1978 faded red Toyota that looked like it had barely survived a demolition derby. He drove slowly out of the parking lot with his dog’s head sticking out the passenger window. The hatchback door was held closed by a rope that tied the handle to the bumper.

  JP watched which way he turned as he entered the street and then stepped back inside Papa Ray’s. Sabre was nearly at the door. “Hurry,” JP said, holding the door open for her.

  “What is it?”

  “Just come,” JP said sternly.

  They dashed to the car, raced out of the parking lot, and headed in the same direction as the Toyota. Sabre was still hooking her seat belt when they reached the street.

  “In case you’re wondering, I didn’t find Tuper.”

  “I think I did. That bartender you talked to walked straight to a man at the poker table and whispered in his ear. The man stood up and left. He drove off in that red Toyota right up there.” JP pointed to a car that was about the length of a football field in front of them. JP slowed down and let another car get in between them and the Toyota.

  “You think that’s Tuper?”

  “It’s either him or someone who knows where he is and is going to warn him. A man doesn’t just get up from a poker table for no good reason.”

  The traffic was only slightly backed up at the exit for Clancy. The Toyota turned off and JP followed. The red car made a left under the highway and two other cars did the same. JP turned as well. Once on the frontage road, JP said, “Duck down.”

  Sabre slumped down in her seat. “What am I doing down here?”

  “Just stay there until I tell you.” The man they were following did not drive very fast so when two other cars sped past the red Toyota, so did JP. JP turned his head as he did so the driver couldn’t see his face. Within a minute or two, JP said, “You can sit up now. He’s behind us.”

  “How can you follow him if you’re in front?”

  “If he’s going to Tuper’s house, we know he’ll turn at the nursing home. We’ll wait there and then follow him up the mountain.”