by Jeff Carson
“Interlocking O’s,” Domino said. “The Triple-O Ranch.”
"Are you saying that’s the cattle brand burned into his arm?”
"Yes.”
"How?”
“McBeth's father. The guy was rich. Connected with the community. A tough cowboy with an American dream story, coming from a family who had nothing, somewhere in Missouri I think, who became a millionaire cattle driver. Owned a ton of land. He got into gold mining, too. Made a small fortune hitting it big at a claim in central Wyoming. Unbeknownst to most of us around town, he apparently drank heavily. He was a driven man, and when we looked into him…afterward…we found he ingested alcohol with as much fervor as any of his other endeavors.”
“Afterward?” Wolf asked.
“One night he got real drunk. Or, normal-drunk is probably more like it. Anyway, apparently Eagle did something up there at the ranch that pissed him off, something about crashing a tractor or something. Costed his old man some money in repairs. So he took Eagle into the barn and taught him a lesson by putting that branding iron on his arm.”
Wolf shook his head.
“You there?” Domino asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking. How does that happen? I mean, wouldn’t he fight back? He was in high school, right?”
“Eagle McBeth’s father was huge. Six foot seven inches. Over two hundred fifty pounds of muscle, had to have been. You’ve seen Eagle. The kid never had a chance, as he’s not the most impressively sized guy. He takes more after his mother. He was really messed up after it as you can imagine. You ask how he didn’t fight back? I’m sure he fought with all his might.”
“Messed up how? Mentally or physically?”
“Both. His arm was burned horribly. He was in pain. Bloodied up on his face. Bruised all over. I was actually the first responder there. Back in my green days.” Domino took his time continuing. “I’m no psychologist, but he had to be pretty messed up mentally, too. They have a pretty big property there, lots of out-buildings, lots of acreage. I went out searching for his father and eventually found him dead in one of the barns.”
“Cause of death?”
“Self-inflicted gunshot. I’ll remember that scene until I’m dead and buried myself. That probably won’t be enough to scrub that memory.”
Wolf stood up. “How exactly did he shoot himself?"
"Put the barrel up under his chin. Pulled the trigger. Exit wound right clean up the top of his head. Left a neat hole in the roof of the barn.”
Thick rain drops streaked Wolf’s window now, but he saw none of it.
“Hello?” Domino said. “You there?”
“Did you find GSR on McBeth’s father’s hands?”
“Well, that I’m not sure about. Like I said, I was a rookie. It was a couple years before my time as detective. But it was my understanding this was cut and dried. Why are you asking that?”
Wolf told him exactly how Chris Oakley had been killed.
The line crackled with silence. “You there?” Wolf asked.
“Yeah,” Domino said. “Holy shit. You might have just created a case for us up here.”
Wolf sat down and stared at the N/A next to Eagle McBeth’s name in the email from Domino.
He went down the line to James Sexton and clicked the link there. A scanned document loaded on screen with a letterhead reading Driggs Foster Families Facilities, and a logo with the letters DFFF.
Wolf stood up and paced the room. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything you need.”
“Can you get somebody to look into James Sexton? His file is pretty sparse.”
“You think he’s the guy?”
Wolf thought of the way Sexton had been silent under that tarp. He’d huddled down into a protective place. When the blame had been shifted toward him, though, that protection had been blown away by defensiveness.
“Wolf?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Wolf said. “I was just thinking. I have his papers here listing his adoptive home in Driggs, Idaho. His age at the time was seventeen.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m just wondering, what about his natural parents? Who are they? What’s his history?”
“Gotcha. That’s something I don’t know off hand. Like I said, McBeth and Sexton were off the radar, unlike Koling and Oakley. We’ll look into him and I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks for your help,” Wolf said, ending the call.
Chapter 28
Lonnie’s Market sat two blocks east of Main Street. A modern building in the otherwise museum-like town of Dredge, the supermarket parking lot was still dirt.
Piper parked her Jeep along the side of the brick building, away from the other cars. Not that it was the most bustling place at…what time was it?
Her dash clock on the old piece of a vehicle the county had given her was broken, so she pulled out her cell phone and took a look. It was 3:11 p.m.
How had it gotten so late? She’d been wrapped up in real work for once, that’s how. She had time, at least thirty minutes, before having to head back home and relieve Stacy by four o’clock.
She got out into cool air. Large oak trees loomed above, swishing heavily in the wind as a new wave of rain pelted down on Dredge for the thousandth day in a row.
Entering through the store’s automatic doors, she went to the first checker she saw, a teenage boy with thick glasses and a mouth of huge teeth.
“Excuse me.” She read his name tag. “Charlie?”
“What?” He stopped what he was doing, holding up a bag of potato chips.
“I’m looking for a manager.”
“Sally or Cherise?”
“Which one of them is the manager?”
“Both of them.”
“I don’t care which one.”
“Sally is here.”
Piper smiled, but wanted to punch something. “I’d like to see Sally.”
He pointed. “Down aisle seven. Back of the building.”
She followed Charlie’s directions down aisle seven. Ahead was an open passageway that led up some stairs. Angled mirrors were mounted on the long edge of the ceiling and back wall reflecting her image back to her from above.
When she reached the rear of the store she paused, looking both ways. There was another set of doors to the right, but they were the swing type that grocers pushed in and out of to stock the place.
Taking the stairs, she looked again at the overhead mirror. A man peered around the corner a few aisles away. He seemed to be watching her. When she turned to look at him, he ducked out of sight. Her heart skipped, fluttering into action as she stared hard at the spot. But the man was gone. Slowly, she walked to the aisle, rounding the corner as widely as possible.
The aisle was empty.
She side-stepped, checking the next aisle. A young couple with a pair of children climbing on their cart looked up at her. The man had the same color coat. Maybe.
When she noticed they were all four staring at her she smiled. “Hi.”
She walked back to the stairs, eyes darting up and around.
She was either seeing things, or somebody who was watching her had sprinted out of sight before she got there to look. Hoping it was the former, she turned the corner into the narrow corridor with the stairs.
Skipping two steps at a time, she trotted up, emerging into a small break room.
A teenage girl eating noodles out of a steaming bowl looked up at her.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m looking for the manager.”
Her eyes, and then a finger, went to an open door along the wall.
Inside there was movement. “Who’s that?” a woman’s voice echoed out.
Piper went to the door and poked her head into a closet of an office. “Hello. Are you Sally?”
“That’s me.” A woman sat in front of a computer screen, tapping on keys. When she turned around Piper recognized her immediately from other times she’d shopped there.
“Hi,” Sally
said, smiling.
“Hello, I’m Deputy Piper Cain. I’m with the county Sheriff’s department.”
“Nice to finally know your name. I’ve seen you around.”
“Nice to meet you, Sally.” Piper eyed the clock ticking away on her wall. It read 3:18. “Is that clock right?”
Sally looked up at it. “Beats me. No I’m just kidding. It’s precisely on time. I have to keep a tight schedule, you know?”
“Right. Listen, I’m wondering if something’s possible.”
“Shoot.”
“Is there a way to see who purchased something from the meat department on, say, last Monday?”
The manager blinked a few times. “Well, we use a new software system that monitors inventory. The purchase details are stored, in a dumbed-down version, mind you, in the system. We don’t keep credit card numbers or anything.”
“How about names on the credit card tied to specific purchases?”
“We would have the name from the loyalty card. Or, yes, we’d use the name that comes through on the credit card if they don’t have a loyalty card.”
“Could you do that for me now?”
Sally drew the frameless glasses off her nose. “Do what?”
“Check who purchased meat on Monday for me?”
“Don’t you need a warrant to do something like that?”
Piper put up her hands. "Listen, I would love to just get a basic idea of what I'm looking for and see if you even have the ability to do what I’m asking. If so, the sheriff and I will come back in here with the necessary warrant.”
The manager sat, thinking.
“But,” Piper looked at the clock again, “it would really save me a lot of time and effort if I could just figure this out right now while we're right here in front of it. If I had something to bring to my boss, you know? He would be happy." She held her smile, not too cheery. The explanation made no sense, she thought, holding her breath.
The manager finally nodded. “Just a quick glance, to see if we can do what you need is all.”
“Perfect.”
Sally swiveled around and clicked an icon. A progress bar started loading at a worm’s pace.
“Updates,” Sally said. “They never end.”
3:22 p.m.
She pulled her phone out, seeing Stacy had sent her a message.
Are you on your way home?
Piper ignored it and put it back in her pocket. She still had time. It took only fifteen minutes to make it back, maybe ten if she drove at full speed with her lights on.
Another progress bar blipped on screen, and then another.
Come on!
Three full minutes later, Sally was in the system. She pointed the cursor to a 'Meats' button and clicked. A spreadsheet, and with it a list of seemingly unintelligible numbers, appeared.
Piper's stomach dropped in disappointment until Sally spoke, pointing with the cursor.
"Here we are. The sales are here. The names are here. And here are the codes for the meats.”
“Which code is a T-bone?”
“Right here. Oh-eight-three.”
“And where are the dates?”
“I have to enter it in to see the date.”
Piper calculated in her head. "What about June 24th? That would have been Monday, is that right?"
The manager pointed her finger and touched a calendar hanging on the wall. "Yep.” She entered the date in a cell on screen and tapped enter. “And you say you want to know about T-Bone steaks?”
“Yes. Please.” Piper leaned into the screen, reading the name column. One name jumped out immediately. “There.”
She reached over Sally’s head and tapped the screen.
Sally ducked away.
“Sorry. That one, there.” The name was only partial, two letters followed by three dots.
Sally clicked the edge of the column and pulled it to the side, revealing the full name.
“That’s it.” Her heart raced. “What time was that purchase made?”
Sally eyed her warily, looking like she knew she’d done something wrong.
“We’ll get the warrant,” Piper said. “But you’re helping. This is a major help.”
Sally rolled her eyes and pointed the cursor at the screen. “It was late. Eleven thirty-one p.m. Likes his barbecues late at night, does he?”
Piper pulled out her phone and took a photo of the screen. “Thank you.”
“Now you’re taking pictures?” Sally asked.
Piper failed to answer her, because she was already out of the room and down the stairs, back into the yawning space of the supermarket below. She selected the photo on her phone and texted it to Wolf.
When she got outside, she ran headlong into a stiff breeze that burrowed into her jacket. She ignored it and dialed Wolf. His phone went to voicemail after one ring.
She rounded the edge of the building. “Sir, it's Deputy Cain. I’m at Lonnie’s Market in Dredge, and I think I just figured something out. Please give me a call—”
She noticed a form in her peripheral vision, and turned in time to see the dark brown coat, realizing in a flash it was the man she’d seen inside the store.
For a fleeting instant, a fraction of a heartbeat, she recognized him. And then something hit her on the back of the head with a dull thud. Her vision contracted, nothing but stars swimming in from all sides. The last thing she saw was her phone drop onto the ground, falling from her fingers, and then everything went black.
Chapter 29
“She said ground floor…” Wolf pulled the phone away from his ear and checked what the vibration had been.
Piper Cain was calling.
His thoughts went back to her porch the previous night. Just when he’d pushed that out of his mind, here she was calling him, reeling him back in. He would return the call in a minute. He declined the call and pressed the phone back to his ear.
Patterson was still talking. “…three rooms. There’s no—”
“Sorry,” Wolf interrupted her. “I just had another call. Can you repeat that, please?”
“Yes. I said I went to the Edelweiss Hotel and spoke to the owner.”
“I heard that part,” Wolf said. “You went to the hotel, the owner said McBeth checked them in using his credit card. And then I missed what you said.”
“I said that even though we paid for it, they put McBeth’s credit card on file, but there were no charges made to it by the motel when they checked out the next day. All three of the men had single rooms on the ground floor. They all filled out a registration form for the parking lot. But that’s about as far as I got for information. She did not know if any of the trucks left, or if any of them left. And besides asking her, she was on duty that night, there’s no way of knowing.”
“Security cameras?” Wolf asked. His phone dinged, notifying him of a voicemail.
“No, sir.”
Wolf stood and stretched his free arm overhead. His clock read 3:30. It had been a long day jockeying behind the desk.
“If we could find a financial transaction for Monday night up in Dredge around the time of Mary Dimitri’s murder,” Wolf said, “we could prove one of them left the hotel in Rocky Points and went back up there.”
“I’ll work on getting the records.”
“I know you’re working on it,” he said. “Thanks. Talk to you soon.”
Wolf hung up and yawned, looking out at the bleak weather pressed down on Rocky Points outside. His muscles hurt from the workout he’d done that morning, just as he’d predicted. Maybe a brisk walk to the coffee shop would loosen him up.
He put his phone onto his desk and hit the voicemail button, putting it on speaker while he slipped on his jacket.
“Sir, it's Deputy Cain.” She sounded excited, out of breath and higher-pitched than he’d remembered. “I’m here at Lonnie’s Market in Dredge, and I think I just figured something out. Please give me a call—”
The phone call cut out in a blast of static. She said som
ething else but it was distorted by the wavering signal, a single syllable coming out of her mouth drawn out into a haunting wail. Then the call ended.
He pressed her number and put the phone to his ear as he walked out of his office, smiling as he heard her voice. “Hello, this is Piper Cain, please leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day.” Though the words themselves were ordinary, the musical lilt in her voice made it worthy of a Grammy. “Hi, this is Sheriff Wolf, I got your message. Give me a call back.”
Seeing he had a text from her as well, he opened it as he entered the elevator. A picture, and nothing else.
The image was of a computer screen. The flash had washed out the middle of the photo, though he could make out a jumble of numbers on a spreadsheet.
The elevator doors opened at the ground floor, but he stood frozen, staring at the screen. The numbers were coded, accompanied by abbreviations and the occasional complete word.
She had come across a financial transaction at Lonnie’s Market up in Dredge. Did it involve the miners? She’d been excited.
He stepped out of the elevator and called her again, again getting her voicemail.
She wasn’t answering. She would certainly call back. But he’d also been handed a perfectly legitimate excuse to make the drive up to Dredge now. To see what she’d gotten firsthand.
To see her again.
He walked down the hall to the back of the building and out into the parking lot. The rain swirled down in sneeze droplets. The sky was low enough his head was leaving a wake in the clouds. It was already almost four o’clock and he was dead tired. But he decided it was going to be a decent day after all.
Chapter 30
Someone tapped Rachette on the shoulder. He snorted awake and wiped a stream of drool from his chin. “Hey, yeah.”
The blurry form standing in front of him solidified into Yates. Hanson was standing next to him.
“He’s awake now,” Yates said. “Let’s go.”
Rachette stood up from the row of plastic chairs in the Sluice-Byron County Hospital waiting room and stretched his limbs, checking his watch. He’d been sleeping for an hour.