Chapter Ten

Tuesday, October 22 nd .

Wild Stallion Ranch.

In the barn I talked to Virge about Penny Darkers, the girl I met at the grocery store. "Never seen her before. She's prettier than Brooke and she gave me her number and now I don't want to take Brooke out like I promised. What should I do?"

"Umm…I'm not sure, Harlan. I'm taking more dirty clothes to the laundromat so I can talk to Vicki some more. She's contrary but I like her a lot. Funny too." Virge smiled.

"Are you gonna take her someplace?"

Virge shrugged. "Thinking about it."

"Take her to the movies in Shelby and buy her some popcorn. That will make her like you."

"I'm pretty sure she likes me already."

"You kiss her yet?"

"I'm working up to it. I'll do it next time I'm in there when there's no customers."

"You might get her into trouble."

"Don't think so. Her mother owns the business and she put Vicki in there to run it. She does what she wants all day long. That's what she told me."

"Huh. Nice job—doing what you want."

While the boys were at the barn, Billy talked to Travis in private about Sunday. "I wanted to ask you about Sunday."

"Sure. What about her?"

"I like her a lot and I have to ask you what happened at the cabin and if you and her were…more than friends."

Travis shook his head. "Nope. She saved my life and stayed with me at the cabin keeping the stove going and feeding me and making sure I didn't die, and I owe her for that. But that's it. Nothing else."

Billy smiled. "Great. I'm not sure if I should say anything to her, but I do like her."

"Go ahead, Billy. Do whatever you think. I'm good with it."

"Thanks."

Now that he had the all-clear from Travis, Billy had to think about it a lot more. No fast moves. Friends first.

Sheriff's Office. Coyote Creek.

From the vehicle registration database, Molly produced a long list of maroon pickups in the general area of Harrison County.

Paul Granby's truck was a Ford F-150, but from the vague description given by Sandra Ellington's neighbor, any other make and model was possible as long as the color was similar.

"I narrowed the list down to the owners with addresses within a twenty-mile range," said Molly. She handed the list to Sunday.

"I'll see if I can eliminate more of them by age," said Sunday. "The guys horsing around with the victim were probably in the twenty-five to forty range. Do you agree, Molly?"

"Yes, I do. We can eliminate the older men."

"Let me see what I can do," said Sunday. "When I cut the list down to size it will be time for the boys to start interviewing them and verifying alibis."

Working on the table in the break room, Travis plowed through reports he had to read and sign off on. Not a task he liked, but it came with the job of being the county sheriff.

While he was in the middle of it, Bob Ellington called to see if his wife's body had been released from the morgue.

"I'll call Doctor Olsen for you, sir, and let you know."

"I've made tentative arrangements for the funeral, but I'd like to set an exact date so I can inform friends and family."

"Sure. I'll call the morgue now and let you know as soon as I can."

"Appreciate it, Sheriff. I can't ask about the ongoing investigation, but if there's any news you can share with me, I'd appreciate it."

"We have several leads, sir, and we're working them diligently. I will not let the case go cold. I'll tell you what I can."

"Thank you so much. I'm having a hard time with this situation. It all seems so impossible. Who in the world would want to see my wife dead? It makes no sense to me at all."

"I hope to have something for you soon, Mister Ellington. I'll call."

Travis called the morgue in Cut Bank and Doc Olsen had just finished the autopsy.

"I can give you a partial description of the blade that was used, Travis."

"Fantastic. Tell me about the knife, Doc."

"Not a kitchen knife. The weapon belonged to the killer. Probably a personal favorite. Expensive. The blade was curved like a Tanto or a military weapon."

"Serrated blade?"

"Yes, I believe so. There were jagged cuts in the flesh on her neck."

"Thanks, Doc. I'll tell Mister Ellington he can instruct the funeral home to pick his wife up."

"Any time between nine and five."

Fingerprinting was Ted's specialty because Dad taught him how to do it, and turned out Ted was the best in our shop at the job.

From the mess at the package store, Ted identified two of the thieves who wrecked the place and stole the beer and liquor.

Billy sent me and Virge to go arrest the assholes and bring them to the station. Jason Kassinger lived in Cut Bank and so did Mike Roach. One stop shopping.

Roach Residence. Cut Bank.

We hit the Roach residence first. Little brick house on Pine Street. Virge knocked and an older lady opened the door. Gray hair and glasses. Wearing a white apron over her flowered dress.

I held up my badge and said, "Sheriff's Department, ma'am."

She squinted at the badge through her thick glasses. "What do you boys want?"

"Is Mike here?" asked Virgie.

The old lady hollered over her shoulder, "Mikey, there's some kids here to see you."

Mike came running to the door to see who it was, and I said, "Mike Roach, you are under arrest for robbery. Down on your knees with your hands on your head."

He turned to run but Virge was quick. He pushed past granny and knocked Mikey down to the floor. Mike rolled and twisted trying to get free of Virge and my brother struggled getting the cuffs on.

I jumped in to help and between us, we got his hands cuffed behind his back.

Grandma screamed, not at us but at Mikey. "What did you do, Mikey? You just got out of jail."

"Nothing, Gran. I didn't do nothing. These guys got it wrong."

He never said anything else while we secured him in the back of the squad.

"There you go, Mike. You're all set," said Virge. "We're going to get your buddy now, so you'll soon have company back there."

"Fuck off," snapped Mike. "I ain't going back to Juvie."

"Wouldn't be too sure about that," said Virge and gave a little chuckle. Virge enjoyed his work.

Kassinger Residence. Cut Bank.

We parked in front of a shabby frame bungalow on another of the back streets in Cut Bank. I rang the bell, and we waited on the front step in the snow.

Virge shivered and I had the urge to light up a smoke just to keep warm.

A guy in his early forties opened the door and he wasn't happy to see us.

"We need to talk to Jason, sir," I said.

"He's busy. Too busy to talk to punks like you boys."

"I'm afraid we're here to bring Jason to the station, sir. You can make that easy or hard."

The guy laughed. "I don't think you boys know what the hard way is." He reached behind him and pointed a Smittie at us.

"Put the gun down, sir," I said politely. "You don't want to get shot."

More laughing. "It won't be me getting shot." He raised the barrel of the gun only slightly and Virgil fired. Fast and low enough on the father's leg to knock the fucker off his feet.

As soon as he hit the floor, I kicked the gun out of his hand.

Jason heard the shot and came running into the front hallway. "Dad, what the hell is going on?"

"Down on your knees," yelled Virge. "Hands on your head, Jason. Do it now or I shoot you just like I shot your father."

Jason dropped to his knees while I held my gun on him, and Virge cuffed him.

We added two more to the back of the squad and drove back to the station. Kassinger hollered all the way about his bleeding leg and Virge turned up the radio so we wouldn't have to listen to him.

"I love this song."

Sheriff's Office. Coyote Creek.

One at a time we brought Roach and Kassinger in. Ted booked them and locked them up while Virge and I took the father to the clinic to have the bullet wound looked at.

Turned out to be only a flesh wound. Virgie shot the fucker through the side of his leg—lucky for him. The doctor bandaged Kassinger up and gave him a shot of pain killer. Didn't take long at all and it didn't make him any nicer.

We took him back to the station and gave him a primo cell next to his son.

Billy charged the father with attempted murder of a police officer. Molly put the gun into evidence after we gave her our reports on the arrests and exactly how the whole shit-show went down.

"You boys had trouble with those kids. I'm glad you didn't get hurt. I'll let their probation officers know that we have them in custody. Nice work, boys." She pushed the box towards us and said, "Have a donut."

"Thanks, Molly."

While the boys were in Cut Bank bringing in the juvies, Molly had a talk to Travis about the girl Harlan had been telling her about.

"She just started work as a cashier at the market here in Coyote Creek, but her father, Danny Darkers is rumored to be an importer…of illegal goods. They live up in Sweetgrass near the border."

"And she drives down here to work at the grocery store?"

"I can't explain that, Travis. Maybe the girl left home, and she lives in town now. I'm only telling you what kind of family she comes from because I'm concerned about Harlan."

"Thanks for telling me. Not just to keep Harlan out of trouble, but we should be investigating the father too and keeping tabs on what he's smuggling across the border."

"I've only heard rumors at my quilting group, but I think we should know more about Dan Darker."

"Huh," said Travis. "I'll take a drive up there on my way home to the ranch. A little out of my way, but I'm curious now."

"Be careful."

"Copy that."

When they quit for the day and locked up the station, Travis told Billy and the boys he'd meet them at the Run for a beer in an hour and didn't explain where he was going.

Darkers Residence. Sweetgrass.

Travis drove north almost to the Alberta border to have a good look at the Darkers place. Situated on about ten acres outside of Sweetgrass, Dan Darkers lived in a double-wide trailer.

If you looked closer—like Travis did using his spotting scope—you could see a large cinderblock building in the trees about a quarter mile from the trailer.

"Uh huh."

Parked near the almost hidden building were several cars and trucks.

"What do you think, doggies? Should we pull off a little raid before we let Harlan get too tangled up with Dan's daughter?"

Max and Sarge both wagged their tails when Travis talked to them.

"Yeah, I think so too. I'll mention it to Billy when we have a private moment."

Dry Run Roadhouse.

Travis drove back from Sweetgrass thinking about the gang of druggies he knew nothing about and wondering if the building on Darkers' property housed a big meth lab. Entirely possible.

He's probably importing the precursor from Canada and making a fucking fortune.

Billy and the boys were sitting in a booth drinking a pitcher and Sunday had gone home straight from the station. She liked to do research and she liked to cook. Two things they knew about her—besides her skill with bears.

Before joining the boys in the booth, Travis sat at the bar and asked Jack what he knew about Dan Darkers and his family.

"They're a mean shifty bunch and I heard they make their money importing from Canada and selling on this side of the border."

"I'm not sure I want Harlan fooling around with Dan Darkers' daughter," said Travis. "He hasn't taken her out yet, but I know he's planning to."

Jack frowned. "That's a shitty idea, Travis. You'd better discourage that from happening if you think it might be in the works."

"She's working on cash at the market and Harlan has her number."

Jack shook his head. "You'd better have a little talk to him before he makes any commitments."

"Yeah, I'll have to. Give me another pitcher and I'll go join them. I'm not telling them where I've been."

Travis carried more beer to the table and sat down with the boys.

"Hey, you're here," said Virge. "Where'd you go, Dad?"

"Had something to check out."

"You rounding up new women?"

Travis laughed. "Definitely not. I'm leaving that in the hands of you boys from now on. I'm retired."

Billy chuckled.