Leopold glanced at the SUV. “Is it locked?”
The officer nodded. “And there are no packages visible on the floor or seats.”
“What are you looking for?” Littlewolf demanded. “Drugs? I run a legit business here, and show a good profit. I don’t need Wein or anyone else peddling drugs on my premises.”
Leopold waited till he’d finished and then asked, “You own the Homestead, too, don’t you?”
“That’s right. Something wrong there, too?”
“No. In fact I had dinner there last night. It’s just that I was supposed to meet Wein in the parking lot at nine o’clock and he didn’t show up.”
Littlewolf shrugged. “I guess he found the casino more profitable. I’m sure my security people will find him at the roulette wheel or the blackjack table.”
But that didn’t happen. At noon Rosco Wein was still missing and Lieutenant Oaken requested that the state police join in the search. Leopold remained close to the lieutenant, hoping for some news he could pass on to Fletcher, but all through the afternoon there was nothing. “He seems to have left the reservation,” Leopold said at last.
“Without his car? That’s doubtful.”
Late in the afternoon Littlewolf directed his men to break into the car and search it. There were no drugs, no weapons, no bloodstains, nothing.
Leopold tried phoning Karen Wein but she didn’t answer on her home phone and he didn’t have the number of her cell phone. He finally decided the best place to find her was the Homestead and he showed up there at the dinner hour. The place was almost empty and there was no sign of Sammy Bryson, though his piano was uncovered.
“Has Karen Wein been around?” Leopold asked the bartender.
“Haven’t seen her. She might turn up later.”
Leopold ordered a beer. “Let me see a menu, too,” he said, thinking he should stick around for a while to see if Karen appeared. He decided on a veal cutlet. Presently Bryson came in, removed his coat, placed the top hat in position for tips, and sat down to play. He started with a jazz version of “Easter Parade,” a couple of days late. Then he paused as if taking a break but Leopold heard a few faint notes of “Yankee Doodle” and the piano picked up on them, launching into a jazz version of that as well. Leopold had to admit the guy was good, and before dinner arrived he went over to drop a couple of dollars into the top hat. Bryson bowed in thanks and played a couple more songs before taking a break.
The veal cutlet was good. He was almost finished when the door opened and Jay Silverspur came in alone, heading for the same table he’d occupied with Karen the previous night. Leopold waited till he was seated, then picked up his beer and walked across the silent floor to join him. “Hello, Jay. Remember me?”
“Sure. It was just last night.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not so long as you’re buying the beer.”
Leopold motioned to the bartender for two more. “Have you seen Karen Wein today? I’ve been looking for her.”
“Her brother’s gone off somewhere. She’s probably with him.”
“Where would that be?”
“Beats me. Over on the Canadian side, probably.”
“I had an appointment with him this morning. He didn’t keep it.”
A slow smile formed on Silverspur’s face. “So now I’m good enough for you.”
“I didn’t say that. I don’t need anything from you.”
“Are you so sure?” he asked with a sly wink.
Well, was he? Leopold decided to play along. “You said you could get drugs at the cheaper Canadian prices.”
“The Canadian dollar’s close to the American in value these days. You wouldn’t save much on medication — that wasn’t really what I had in mind. But maybe I could supply something you can’t find at the corner drugstore.”
“Maybe. I have medical problems—”
“I know. You told us last night. You want pot? I can get you the best grade of Canadian marijuana.”
Leopold glanced nervously over his shoulder, as if fearful that someone might overhear their conversation. “Wein mentioned Ecstasy too. And some cocaine.”
“I can supply it all.”
“Could I get it tonight?”
“How much do you need?”
“I was going to pay Wein ten thousand.”
“American or Canadian?”
“American.”
“Sure, we can do business. What did he promise you?”
Leopold took the list from his pocket. “Here. But I feel odd about this. What if he comes back?”
“He’s not coming back. The res is swarming with cops searching for him. He’s probably way across the border where it’s safer.”
At the piano Bryson had started playing again, beginning with an old Cole Porter melody, “Don’t Fence Me In.” Leopold had been a teenager, just starting to date, when the song was popular back in the ‘forties.
“He knows the old ones,” Silverspur said. “Dan hired a trio that plays rock on weekends for the younger crowd.”
“You know Littlewolf well?”
“Everyone knows Dan. He’s our local success story. With the casino and this place, he’s probably the wealthiest Injun in the state.”
“How’d he get enough money to open the casino? Drugs?”
Silverspur shook his head. “He’s got backers. Maybe they’re Mafia. I don’t ask questions.”
“How soon can you be back here with my order? It’s a four-hour drive home for me.”
“Maybe an hour, that soon enough?”
“Eight o’clock? I guess I could wait that long.”
“See you then. Out in the parking lot.”
“Fine.” Leopold watched him go, then paid the check and went out to the car to call Lieutenant Oaken on his cell phone.
He was still sitting in his car at twenty minutes to eight, waiting for Silverspur’s return, when he saw Karen Wein pull into the parking lot. It was growing dark but he recognized her at once and got out of his car. “Karen!” he called out.
She was half out of her car when she heard him. Immediately she was back in the driver’s seat, slamming the door and turning the ignition. It had started to snow, big wet flakes that cut down visibility, but she’d certainly recognized him and was taking off. He went after her, trying to remember the last time he’d been involved in a car chase. This one didn’t last long. At the next intersection she turned the wheel too sharply on the wet pavement and skidded off the road. Leopold pulled in behind her, blocking her escape.
He opened her door, confronting her in the near darkness. “Why’d you run away? I’m looking for your brother.”
“I thought you were someone else. I don’t know where Rosco is. I tried calling him but there’s no answer.”
“I have to tell you the tribal police are looking for him.”
“I know that. They’re all over the reservation, along with the state police.”
“If you know where he is, you should tell him to come out of hiding.”
“I have no idea where he is,” she insisted.
“They found his car in the casino parking lot.”
“They’d better ask Dan Littlewolf about that.”
“Were the two of them on bad terms?”
“No, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Please move your car so I can back out of here.”
“Has your brother had previous run-ins with the police or government authorities?” he asked, remembering the mug shot.
“Nothing serious. He’s a patriotic American. He obeys the laws, has a flag decal on his truck, a patriotic ring tone on his cell phone, for God’s sake! What are they trying to do to him?”
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost eight. “I have to go. I have to meet Jay Silverspur in a few minutes.”
“What for?”
“Nothing involving you.”
Leopold moved his car, but when Karen tried to back out, her wheels spun in the mud.