Chapter Twelve

Thursday, October 24 th .

Wild Stallion Ranch.

Billy stoked up the woodstove in the front room as soon as he got out of bed each morning. Sunday stood next to him warming her hands while she waited for the coffee to brew.

"I'm sleeping in a girl's room, but nobody has said anything about her since I got here. Is the subject taboo?"

"Too recent to discuss in front of Travis," said Billy. "He's dealing with losing his daughter in his own way. Tammy has been found and she's in a hospital in Texas. If he wants you to know more, I'm sure he'll tell you. The past few weeks have been hard on him—hard on all of us. We love Tammy."

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen. Just a little older than Harlan."

"And Travis adopted her too?"

"Yes. She was the first."

"I won't say anything to upset him," said Sunday.

"Best if you didn't. Anything you want to know, you can ask me. I've lived here for a long time. Since before we adopted the boys."

"They are so adorable."

Billy grinned. "Couldn't be any better if they tried."

The barn was chilly when me and Virge ran out to do the chores. It was time to put the little heater on for the horses at night. They had their blankets on, but every night the temperature dropped lower. You could see your breath inside the barn.

"Aw shit, their water is frozen," said Virge. "I'm gonna halfta get the blow torch going and thaw out the line."

"Do you know how to do it?"

"How hard can it be?"

"I'll run in and ask Dad how to do it. I don't want you burning the fuckin barn down."

"Nope, not today. Today's the day I'm gonna ask Vicki to go to the movies."

"Want to double date on Friday night?"

"Sure. If Vicki will go with me."

"Why wouldn't she? You're almost as good looking as your older brother."

"Shut up."

At breakfast, Sunday seemed a little lost and not herself. She looked at Billy a lot, but they didn't talk to each other. Me and Virge didn't know what was going on but there was tension at the table. You could feel it. I glanced at Dad a couple of times, and he shrugged it off. I figured he didn't know either.

Sheriff's Office. Coyote Creek.

First thing Molly did was go over all the reports she needed that hadn't been completed. She gave each one of us a list of what was missing and asked us to catch up.

I took my unfinished reports to my desk in the squad room and started filling in the blanks. I did that for about the first fifteen minutes, then I texed Penny at the grocery store.

"You busy at the market?"

"Not too many customers yet."

"Can't wait for our date tomorrow."

"Me too. I don't get off until seven on Fridays."

"That's okay. We'll catch a later show."

Billy was working behind his desk reading from his computer screen when Sunday came into his office and closed the door. She rounded his desk, pushed in on his knee and kissed him.

"Hey, should we be doing this at work?"

"You tell me. You're the boss here."

"I'm the undersheriff. Travis is the big boss."

"Can we lock the door and take a minute for ourselves, Billy? I've been waiting for you to kiss me, and you didn't do it."

"Umm…I wasn't sure."

"When we talked about you and me, you sounded sure."

"I've had a few bad experiences," said Billy.

"You think I haven't? My husband was killed by a grizzly bear, Billy. Can you match that one?"

"No, and I don't want to, Sunday. That must have been horrible for you."

"Yeah, it was, but I'm trying to forget about it and make a new life for myself."

"Let's hold off at work and we'll continue this at home tonight."

"Yeah, sure." Sunday left the office and Billy was pretty sure he'd pissed her off.

"Damn it. I didn't want it to go like that."

I was nearly finished my reports when Dad sat at the empty desk next to me and asked me again about Penny.

"You been talking to her, son?"

"Yep. We're all set for the movies in Shelby for tomorrow night."

"And you confirmed she doesn't live up in Sweetgrass?"

"Yep. She gave me an address here in town to pick her up."

"That's good, son. Real good."

The front door opened, and I recognized the woman coming into the station. She was one of the neighbors we had interviewed on Kings Court. Couldn't remember her name.

She walked up to Molly's desk and said, "I'm Cassie Blake and the sheriff told me to call or drop in if I remembered anything about the cars in Sandra's driveway."

"Yes." Molly gave her a big smile. "Did you remember something, Mrs. Blake?"

"Uh huh. I told you about the red pickup and the black Jeep, but out of the blue I remembered another car I saw two or three times. No idea why I didn't think of it before."

"Well, I'm happy you thought of it now," said Molly. "What did the car look like?"

"It was a dark green car and I'm not sure what kind, but it looked expensive from our house. My husband said it was a Jag but I'm not sure if that's a kind of car or not."

"Yes, it is," said Travis. "Did you happen to see the tag or was it too far away?"

"No, I didn't see the license plate, but I saw the driver when he got out of the car."

"Great. What did he look like?" asked Molly.

"He was tall with dark hair, and he was wearing a suit."

"Did you see him on the morning of the murder?" asked Travis.

"I'm not sure what day it was but that was the last time I saw the green car."

"Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Blake," said Molly. "You've been very helpful."

As soon as she left, Travis said, "Harlan, you and Virge go back to the court and ask every neighbor about the dark green Jag."

"Copy that, Sheriff."

Me and Virge went out the back way through the sally port and hopped into our Jeep.

"Before we go door knocking, I'm going to talk to Vicki about the date."

"Okay, but make it fast. We can't let Dad know we're dogging it because of girls."

"He'll never find out."

"Don't count on it."

Duds & Suds Laundromat.

I sat at the curb keeping the Jeep warm while Virge ran into the laundry place to ask Vicki to the movies. He ran back and hopped in five minutes later with a big grin on his face.

"She's going for it?"

"Yep. She says she'll try me one time and see if I'm a good date or not."

I laughed at my brother. "Guess you'd better make it good if you expect a second date."

"No worries, Harlan. I'll ace it."

Kings Court. Coyote Creek.

The weather was too fuckin cold for door knocking but luckily there were only six fancy houses on the court. Big houses on huge lots and they were spread out. Lots of space between them. Might have had nice lawns and gardens but we couldn't see that stuff for the snow.

We asked each neighbor about the green Jag, and nobody had noticed the car in the Ellington's driveway. But when we got to the guy directly across the road from the Ellingtons who had supplied the video cam, he was helpful.

"I didn't notice the car across the street, but I only know of one dark green Jaguar in this whole area, and it belongs to Hal Hoover who owns the men's clothing store in Shelby."

"Thanks, sir. We'll definitely check it out."

Conrad.

Billy put Ted on Graham Van Cedar, just to make sure Van Cedar wasn't tracking down Sandra's killer on his own and getting into a lot of trouble.

Ted followed the lawyer to his office building in downtown Shelby and parked across the street. The guy didn't seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary.

"Jeeze, this is going to be fuckin boring." Ted left the engine running and the heater on and lit up a cigarette. He turned the radio up and settled in for a long wait.

Hoover's Men's Wear. Shelby.

On the way to Shelby, I called into the office to tell Dad we got a lead on the Jaguar, but he wasn't at the shop. I talked to Billy instead and told him about the guy who owned the clothing store in Shelby having a dark green Jag.

"Good one, Harlan. Hope you come up with something solid."

"Me and Virge are on our way to Shelby to talk to him. Just clearing it with you first."

"Sounds like the next step, Harlan. See what you can find out. We can't say for sure there is only one car like that in Harrison County."

There was a small parking area behind the men's store on the main street of Shelby and the Jag was there in a reserved spot.

"There's the car," said Virge. "Let's go in and nail the fucker."

"He might have been at the Ellington's for a lot of reasons, Virge. Not just to slit Sandra's throat."

"Yeah, I guess that could be true."

Two customers were trying on suits when we went inside, and the store smelled nice. The guy behind the counter was tall and dark like Cassie Blake described him. Late thirties.

He glanced up at us and gave our uniforms the once over. "Sheriff's department. What's the occasion, boys?"

"A couple of questions, sir. Your car was seen at the Ellington's house in Coyote Creek on several occasions and we're checking all vehicles seen there last week."

"Of course you are. Diligent work, boys. Yes, I've been to Bob Ellington's home several times mostly for a quick fitting. He had two new custom suits made in the past weeks. That's about the only excuse I have for being there."

"Thank you." Not believing a fuckin word he said, I slid a card across the counter to Hal Hoover.

Back in our Jeep I looked at Virge and he shook his head. "Nope. He wasn't there for suits. That fucker ain't a good liar. I watched his eyes, and they were darting all over the place."

"Didn't think he was on the level. We'd better tell Billy."

Canada/U.S. Border Crossing.

Travis drove north alone to the border crossing—the Montana/Alberta line. He went inside and had a good chat to Mark Garson, the boss of the customs office on the U.S side.

"Sheriff Frost, nice to see you. Social visit or something else?"

"Possibly something else. Mostly to clear the path for me to take action, but first I wanted to ask if y'all had anything going on with Dan Darkers."

Garson frowned. "I don't recognize the name. What's he been up to?"

"Possibly smuggling precursor in from Canada, but I'm not sure of it. If you haven't been watching him, maybe I'm off track."

"I'm sure you're not. There's a lot of that going on, Sheriff. You go ahead with whatever you have planned. If he does cross here in the meantime, I'll have an extra close look at him."

Travis smiled. "Thanks. Appreciate it."

Darkers Residence. Sweetgrass.

Passing Sweetgrass on his way back from the border, Travis took a slight detour and cruised by Darkers' trailer. He parked down the road for a while and kept watch on the traffic in and out.

Not much going on. Guys carrying stuff into the building in cardboard cartons. Cartons of what? He had no way of knowing the boxes contained chemicals. Before he could pull off a raid, he had to be sure.

That meant more time spent on the project and a lot more man-hours of surveillance. Be great if he could get a tag inside the building or the trailer but there seemed to be a lot of workers around the clock.

Whatever was going on inside the building was highly organized. Maybe grabbing one of the workers and questioning him was the way to go.

Wild Stallion Ranch.

Sunday cooked pork chops and mashed potatoes for us for dinner and her cooking was pretty good. Thing was, she hardly talked at all, and she definitely wasn't talking to Billy. Wouldn't even turn her head to look in his direction.

Dad gave Billy a couple of looks and he shrugged it off like he had no idea what was up with Sunday—but he must have.

To break the tension, I said, "Hal Hoover was lying about delivering the fuckin suits to Bob Ellington. Virge is with me on this. The guy driving the Jag was there for a different reason."

"Huh," said Dad. "You guys came up with a good lead today. We'll have to put a watch on the Jag driver and see what he's up to."

After dinner the dogs went nuts barking at the back door and Virge came running back saying he heard a bear growling out back.

"Oh, let me see if I can talk to him." Sunday got her coat and hat on and headed outside.

"No," hollered Billy, and he tried to run after her. "Don't do that, Sunday. You can't go out and confront a bear. That's plain dangerous."

"I'm not afraid of bears," she called over her shoulder as she ran through the woodshed.

"You should be. Sunday, come back here."

Sunday kept running and shot out the back door heading towards the barn where the growling was coming from.

"Don't go near the barn," hollered Billy.

Because of his bad leg Billy couldn't run, and he yelled at me, "Harlan, go get her and drag her inside."

I ran after Sunday, caught up with her as she ran by the woodpile at the side of the barn. I scooped her up—her yelling at me to leave her alone—and ran back to the house with her.

The big grizzly was only a few fuckin feet behind us snarling and running on all fours for more speed.

Sunday must've lost her fuckin mind.

Billy slammed the door and locked it as soon as I got inside with Sunday. Out of breath, I put her down and sat on the woodpile trying to suck in enough oxygen.

"Don't you ever do that again, Sunday," said Billy. "That was a suicide move. Just nuts. That's what it was."

"I don't think he would've hurt me, Billy," said Sunday. "You should've let me talk to him." She stomped inside and went straight upstairs to her room.

Billy shook his head. "That ain't normal, Harlan. We've got to watch her close."

"Copy that."