Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

D EVINE CHECKED HIS SPEED—BARELY A mile over the limit. He glanced in the rearview and noted the cop car was keeping its distance, but the two men inside seemed to be unduly focused on him.

Okay, they either got tipped off I was coming or they show everybody this level of attention. And why do I think it’s the former?

Devine had a genuine respect for small towns. Not for their quaintness, but for their potential lethality. On its surface, Putnam, Maine, had looked like an idyllic few square miles on the Atlantic coast where one could spend a pleasant vacation. However, right below that ordinary plain lay a vault full of deadly secrets and people hell-bent on keeping them that way, no matter who had to go into a grave or an urn. It seemed to Devine that in smaller numbers, people tended to get a little territorial.

Once he’d reached the tiny downtown area, Devine slowed and turned right. The cruiser mimicked these movements.

Okay, they know I know they’re back there. So what gives?

He pulled into a parking spot along the curb and sat in the Toyota, ostensibly checking his phone. The cops pulled across the street roughly parallel with him.

He mulled over what Odom had told him. The lunch at the cowboy hat menu place. The meeting with the two men. The duffel with something in it. The deaths of the Odoms, which might have been from some sort of poison. But if so, how had it been administered? Maybe in the food they ate or whatever they drank for lunch. But what if Betsy had shared some of it? Was she just lucky to be alive? Were all three of them supposed to be dead and the drug overdose and her Narcan revival just a story woven from the surprise outcome of Betsy emerging alive?

Or was the end game actually eliminating Dwayne and Alice Odom, leaving Betsy as an orphan?

And in steps Danny Glass?

Would you do that, Danny? Are you that much of a piece of shit? Maybe you are.

He got out of the Toyota and looked up at the business he had parked in front of.

The Cowboy Tavern. The cowboy hat menu Odom had described was displayed in the front window. He had noted that the two cops had not left their cruiser. Maybe their orders were just to observe.

Okay, keep observing.

The place was only a quarter-full this late in the afternoon. He was greeted by the hostess, a young woman in her twenties with brown hair and matching eyes. She had on tight black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the Cowboy Tavern name and logo stitched on it.

She escorted him to a table, where he showed his federal ID and asked her about the Odoms. She had not worked that day, the hostess told him, but went off to check to see if any of the other staff here today had. A couple minutes later a woman in her sixties walked over. She was tall and thin, her skin mottled with sun damage. With a crackly, nicotine-laden voice, she introduced herself as Wendy Roman and told Devine she had served the Odoms that day.

He held up his phone with a photo of the family on the screen. “Just to confirm.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, sure, I ’member ’em. The police already talked to me, hon.”

“So the police did an investigation?”

“Well, I don’t know ’bout that. They just asked me some questions ’bout ’em. If you call that an investigation, then I guess they done one, hon. Now, how ’bout a drink and some food? The tacos are decent and our sixteen-ounce rib eye is damn tasty. And you look like one hungry man.”

“Maybe later. What can you tell me about that day?”

Her sales spiel and potential tip having failed, she seemed to wilt in front of him. “Look, not much to tell, hon. They come in for lunch. Nice family. ’Member ’em cause I didn’t recognize ’em. Strangers in town. Most folks come in here are regulars, live in Ricketts. We don’t get a lot of tourists, you see, ’cept those who want to commune with nature, so to speak. And they don’t come when it’s cold ’cause I guess they don’t like nature that way.” She ended that comment with a cackling laugh.

“I suppose you don’t remember what they ordered?”

She smiled. “Hell, if I had that good a memory, I’d go on some dang quiz show and win a bunch’a money or go to Vegas or some such.” She paused. “Do ’member the girl. Chubby little thing, like girls her age are. I was like that and now look at me. She had them headphone things on, which I thought was kind’a odd. But kids these days? Always got a phone or iPad or some kind’a electronic thingamajig in hand. Trouble is people don’t talk no more. And not just the kids but their parents and their mee-maws and grandpops, too. What the hell is so important you got to be on that crap all the time? I’m old enough to ’member when you used a phone to just call somebody.” She shook her head. “Not no more.”

“So did they talk to anyone while they were here? Anyone come over to greet them?”

She thought about this for a few moments before shaking her head. “No. They just come in, ate, and left. Nothin’ special.”

“You said the police asked you questions?”

“Yeah. After them folks were found dead in their car. Drug overdose, so’s I heard. They asked me if they looked juiced or anythin’, like they’d taken a hit of somethin’. I told them, yeah, they did look jumpy and out of sorts.” She lowered her voice. “I got experience with drugs and such and know the signs. You see it everywhere these days. Bad as it’s ever been, to my mind.”

“So, to be clear, you thought they were drug users?”

“Well, yeah. Felt sorry for the girl. Parents on that stuff? Not good for her.”

“They might have been jumpy because they were nervous about something,” suggested Devine.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said skeptically.

“Did any of them say anything to you as to why they had come to Ricketts? Like you said, you don’t really get tourists this time of year. Were they meeting someone?”

She drummed her fingers on the table while she thought about this. “No. I do ’member askin’ where they was comin’ in from, and the man said, somethin’ or other place. I, uh, I don’t really recall it.”

“And did you see where they went after they left here?”

She shook her head. “Nope. They just paid the check and that was that. I had other tables to look after. I don’t do my job, I ain’t got no job, hon. Gonna work till I drop as it is. No nest egg for this gal.”

“I take it you pull long hours here?”

“I work the breakfast, lunch, and early dinner crowd. Six thirty in the morning till five thirty at night. And by then I am dog-tired. But the tips ain’t bad most times.”

He handed her his card. “Okay, thanks. Anything else occurs to you, let me know.”

She stared at the card like there was a threat written on it. Then she put it away and said, “Now, what can I get you to drink? IPAs are good and we got some Blue Moon on tap.”

Devine rose and said, “I think I’ll have to pass for now.”

As she walked away, Devine managed to take her picture with his phone. He sent it off to Emerson Campbell with a request.

He walked out thinking her opinion on the drug use had not rung true, both because he had several accounts saying the opposite, and the woman looked everywhere except at him when she had said it.

It’s a good thing for me that most people are terrible liars.

Hon.