Valerie Malloy was climbing out of her Mustang. When the sheriff saw them she immediately rushed forward and confronted them.
“We found your truck shot to shit and you weren’t inside it. Derrick happened on it a few hours ago and radioed it in. I’ve been calling your cells ever since.”
“We had our phones turned off,” said Robie.
Malloy got right in his face. “Cut the crap and tell me what’s going on. This is my town and I’m responsible for what goes on.”
“Okay, you want to discuss it here or back at the station?” said Robie.
In answer Malloy got in her cruiser and pulled out so fast Robie had to jump out of the way.
They followed on foot.
Inside the station they found Derrick Bender making some coffee.
“Glad to see you folks are okay,” he said.
“Yeah, we are too,” said Reel.
Malloy stepped out of her office. “In here. Let’s have that powwow. You too, Derrick. And bring some coffee.”
Reel and Robie followed Malloy back into her office. They stared at each other until Bender came in with four cups of coffee on a tray.
“Everybody okay with black?” he asked.
“Works for me,” said Reel, and Robie nodded.
They all took sips and then Malloy pounced. “I thought we were going to be working this investigation together. But so far, you both have left us completely out of the loop.”
“Not our intent, Sheriff,” said Reel.
“It sure as hell is,” countered Malloy. “Now, I need to know everything you’ve found out since we last spoke. And I mean everything. There’s shit going on around here and I will not be left out of the loop.”
Robie glanced at Reel and then looked back at Malloy. “Okay, we’ll start from the beginning and go forward. How’s that sound?”
“Don’t leave anything out.”
It took over thirty minutes, but between them Reel and Robie filled the pair in on what had happened. But they left out the part about Holly’s and Luke’s deaths and the FBI’s being behind the King’s Apostles.
“So they kidnapped you,” said Malloy. “And tried to get Reel to murder you?”
“That’s the gist of it,” admitted Robie.
“Then we can nail those bastards,” said Bender.
“With what?” asked Robie. “You and Bender and a few state cops who obviously want no part of those pricks? They’ve got over a hundred men there and they’re loaded for bear. And they’ll have gotten rid of any evidence, so it becomes our word against theirs.”
“And nailing those bastards is not our job,” added Reel. “Our job is to find Roger Walton. And our leads keep disappearing. Lamarre was our best shot and we have no idea where he is. So we’re back at square one. We don’t have time to be embroiled in a criminal trial.”
“But it could be that Dolph and his skinheads took Walton,” suggested Malloy.
“It could be, but we were there and saw no evidence of that. And like what happened with us, by now they would have covered any trace of that.”
“If you broke out of his place, he’s going to be coming for you.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Robie.
“And you can’t guarantee our safety, we know,” said Reel. “But we’ve got this.”
“Look, you want to find Walton. I want to help you do that.”
Reel said, “Okay, got any ideas on where we go from here?”
“Well, now that I have no idea where my sister is, I can focus my energies on coming up with some. I just hope to God she’s safe.”
At these words, Reel looked away.
Robie said, “A white panel van. It stopped at Clyde’s for gas. Lamarre was working that night. He saw what he saw.”
Bender said, “Well, if they stopped for gas, then I guess they were either starting out from here and going a long distance or else they were coming from somewhere and had to stop and fill up before they got there.”
Reel looked impressed. “That’s a good point.”
He smiled shyly. “I have ’em on occasion.”
Robie said, “So if the latter, where might that be?”
Malloy said, “I’ve never seen the skinheads in a white van. They favor pickup trucks. King’s Apostles don’t have any vans. They’ve got trucks and a Hummer.”
“The white supremacists?” asked Reel.
Bender shook his head. “Harleys, Dodge Rams, Ford F150s. An old school bus and a couple of hearses.”
“Hearses.”
“They haul guns and ammo in them,” said Bender.
“And where do they haul them?” asked Robie.
“Wherever they want to. No law against it.”
“Sounds like your hands are tied,” said Reel.
“I can get my sister Patti and her buddies to look for the van,” said Bender. “They get around to places with their work that most around here don’t get to.”
“Okay,” said Reel.
“There’s something else,” said Bender.
“What’s that?” asked Reel.
“It has nothing to do with the investigation. But my mother has invited you two over for dinner tonight. Valerie’s coming too. And Patti.”
“I’m not sure we—” began Reel.
But Robie interrupted and said, “Sounds good. Thanks. Just tell us the time.”
As they walked out of the sheriff’s office a few minutes later Reel said, “What was that about? We have no leads on Blue Man. We’ve got some crazed Nazi gunning for us. The director is going to chew our asses out next time she talks to us, and we’re going to dinner?”
“We have to eat. And maybe what we’re missing on this case is some local color.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It might mean finding Blue Man. And if it does, it’s worth a dinner, Jess.”
CHAPTER
36
“You like Amarone, Will?”
Claire Bender was dressed in sandals, black slacks, and a white sleeveless blouse revealing long and wiry tanned arms. Her silvery blonde hair was pulled back in a bun and clipped in place. Her features were animated and a smile played over her lips.
He looked at the glass of red wine she was holding out. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
He took the wine from her and had a sip.
“It’s better than fine,” he commented.
Claire smiled. “I’m glad you like it. This is a beer-and-tequila sort of place. There aren’t many people in Grand who would appreciate a good wine.” She clinked her glass against his. “Roger loves Amarone.” She stopped and looked down. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from. It was just automatic. We’ve shared many bottles of wine.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“Let me show you something.”
She led him through to the rear of the house then out the back door. There was a detached six-car garage behind the main house.
She pulled a remote from her pocket and opened one of the doors.
“What do you think?”
Revealed behind the door was a vintage burgundy Cadillac convertible with a pair of Texas longhorns mounted on the front.
“Impressive.”
“I went to UT. Only time I really left Colorado. It just felt right at the time, but then I wanted to get back here. But I have a fondness in my heart for the Lone Star State. Go ahead and sit in it.”
Robie opened the driver’s door and slid into the front seat. The upholstery was white and in pristine shape.
Claire leaned against the front fender. “Took a year and more money than I want to think about to rehab this thing. It’s a 1966 Cadillac DeVille convertible. It’s got a 340-horsepower overhead cam V8. I think it actually gets minus miles to the gallon. It’s eighteen and a half feet long, which makes it pretty much bigger than my first home here.”
“They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“They don’t make anything like they did anymore. Did you know Roger drove this car when he lived here?”