Chapter Twenty-Nine

Bearded Mush Face

H is face was mashed against the screen, a beard covering the lower half. Willow had just begun turning the lights off at night because they attracted too many small, flying critters through the screen, or he would have been able to see her clearly without needing to be so close.

Fear gripped her at the same time Max jumped on the bed and gave a deep throaty bark. The man disappeared. Her hand went out, reaching for the cell phone, and shakily, she called Dale’s number.

He answered on the first ring.

“There’s a man outside. He was looking in my bedroom window.” Max continued to growl in the background

“Daisy started up about thirty seconds ago. I’m coming over. Open the door when I knock but keep Max inside with you. Daisy will stay inside with you too.”

Dale knocked two minutes later. Willow unlocked the screen. He held a large flashlight and shined it around the property half looking at her and half keeping an eye out behind him. His gray hair stood up on one side and lay flat on the other. He wore his wrinkled shirt from the day before, and a gun holstered on his hip held up by belted blue jeans. It was three in the morning, and he looked tired.

“I’m going to scout around the house and barn,” he said. “Keep the dogs inside with you.”

“What about calling the sheriff?” she asked, fear rising in her voice.

He turned and looked at her. “I’m retired, but this was my area, and I rarely had backup. Tonight, I have you and two large dogs. Make some coffee, and if I’m not back in ten minutes, call 911. Now lock the doors behind me.”

He didn’t give her time to argue. Willow started coffee, her hands shaking so hard, she worried she would break the glass carafe. This was worse than prison when guards would stare at her and creep her out. She had just begun to feel safe in her grandmother’s house. Her hands continued to tremble as she grabbed two mugs and kept an eye on the clock. Dale knocked on the door six minutes after he left.

“Let me in?” he said, and she quickly unlocked both doors. Dale’s light continued to shine into the night.

“What is it?” she asked when she saw his expression.

“The footprints outside your window match the ones we’ve seen around the property. It’s got to be one of the locals which I don’t like at all. There’s enough crazy out here to fill a bar on free whiskey night. Whoever he is, he’s turning into a problem. How clearly could you see him?”

“Not well. He had a bushy beard along with a mushed nose and lips.”

“Mushed nose and lips?” he questioned, a slight grin appearing at the corners of his mouth.

She simply nodded.

“Seeing a beard means you’ve eliminated the women, but included every man who lives out here except me.” Dale shaved each morning, and she rarely saw a sign of facial hair.

“Are you calling the sheriff now?” she asked.

“Let’s have coffee and talk about that. There are some things you need to know, and I’ve been waiting for the right time to explain,” he said, grim-faced.

With coffee in hand, Dale settled on the reclining chair, and Willow took the couch. Max and Daisy lay down and didn’t seem concerned about anyone outside. It allowed Willow to relax.

Dale cleared his throat, looked away from her, and began talking. “Joan was considered a thorn in the sheriff department’s side. I ran a bit of interference and handled just about all her complaints. She was a smart woman, and I, as a deputy, irritated the crap out of her.” He still didn’t meet Willow’s eyes. “You said she told you about the court hearing with the puppy mill and how Jeb Hogg got away without charges?”

Willow nodded, but he still wasn’t looking at her, so she said, “Yes.”

“A few months before all hell broke loose at the Hogg homestead, one of the investigators from the county drug task force approached me. They’re a ragtag team from every department in the county. Each department loans an officer for a three-year stint. It’s usually someone they want out of their hair. The investigator explained that the Hoggs were under investigation as a major methamphetamine distributor and most likely cooking it on the property.” Dale stopped for a moment, and Willow saw the sadness he tried to hide. It was in his voice too. He took a sip of coffee and continued. “Joan was making a fuss about the dog fighting again. She’d stopped trusting me to do anything, so she took her complaints straight to the front office and filed in writing.” Dale pulled a silver flask from his pocket and poured some into his mug. “Liquid courage,” he said and finally looked at her. “Would you like some?”

Willow shook her head.

“Joan’s complaints were valid, but there are only two deputies handling over five hundred square miles. I checked on her because I live out here. If I had lived in town, I wouldn’t have, and that shames me.” He took a longer pull from the mug. “The people here on the ranch keep to themselves. Some are like me and were short on money needing a cheap place to live, or like Joan, wanting to escape something personal. Others have more nefarious reasons. They’re running from child support or much worse. We have Sovereign Citizens. They’re a crazy group that believe the sheriff is the highest legitimate law enforcement because sheriffs are elected by the people at the will of the people. They don’t feel that way about local police and consider them an extension of an illegitimate government.” He shrugged. “Local police are trained to call for deputy backup if they run into them. SCs won’t acquire ID, and don’t register or insure their vehicles. For the most part, they’re left alone, and that’s why they stay.”

He took another long drink and stood to refill his mug. “Do you need a warmup?” he asked.

Again, Willow shook her head.

He refilled his mug, added more liquor, and sat back in the chair. “Long story short, the people here leave you alone if you leave them alone. Joan didn’t follow the rules when it came to the Hoggs. The last time she complained to me, there was nothing I could do because of the meth investigation. I tried to pacify her, and that just made her angrier. I couldn’t tell her what was going on without risking my job, so I stayed quiet.” He took another drink.

“About ten years ago,” he continued, “Someone found a body in an old trailer here on the ranch. The man had been dead for two to three years and his body was mummified. There was little investigation. I decided to look into it myself and questioned the people in the area. That didn’t go well, because like I said, the people out here mind their own business. Someone made a complaint, and I was called into my commander’s office. Very explicitly, I was told to do as much work as possible off the ranch and to leave the dead body investigation alone.”

Willow could tell this angered him.

“After what happened the night Joan died, they found evidence of a major meth lab in the Hoggs’ barn.” He paused for a moment, his face remaining grim. “I have no idea how long the drug investigation had been going on, and it could have been years. The narc investigators don’t trust others, and personally, I didn’t trust them. Too many opportunities to hide large amounts of cash, and let corruption lead them down a hellhole. If I had disregarded what they told me, and said something to Joan, she would be alive today.”

Dale leaned forward and looked Willow straight in the eyes. “I’m the reason your grandmother died.”