Why would Sheldon hide his physique? I’d always seen him as a doughy guy. Something Shay had said about Rollie jumped into my head. Did you see how he shuffled out of here like an old man? Trying to leave the impression that he’s harmless and helpless?
But it made no sense why Sheldon would want people to think he was gimped up. For sympathy? So people would assume it was from an injury he’d sustained in the service?
Fergie’s voice pulled me out of those thoughts. “I didn’t want to get caught gawking at him, so I ducked around the corner and waited a few minutes. Then I yelled real loud when I came in.”
“Did he stand on a ladder so you could admire him in all his sweaty, muscled glory?”
She chuckled. “No, he’d put on a long-sleeved shirt at least one size too big. I assumed it was a hand-me-down from his uncle.”
“Do you know his uncle?”
“He was in charge of the archives when I first started as a cop. Then Sheldon moved back to care for him and to take over the archives job. Harold is a sweet guy. Quiet.”
“Do you ever see him?”
Fergie looked thoughtful. “No, he has health issues. But Sheldon talks about him. Harold is lucky that Sheldon lives with him so he didn’t end up in a nursing home. Anyway, I have more boxes for him. I’ve been trying to dump them off for the last month, but he keeps telling me the storage area by the loading bay is full. I’m tired of getting my butt chewed by the police chief because we’ve got sensitive case files stacked in the hallway.”
“How full can it be back there? What else does he use the loading bay for?”
“Between us? Nothing. I saw a cot back there one time, but I never let on that I noticed his little R and R corner. So what if he’s made a little nesting spot to take naps? I don’t care. I just want him to quit stalling and take these boxes off my hands.”
Now that I’d thought about it, I’d never asked him about the locked door in the far back room. “Well, Sheldon isn’t here today. Maybe he’s taking his uncle to the doctor or something.”
“Could be. He’ll be pleased to hear you’re concerned about him.” She nudged me with her shoulder and grinned. “Sheldon is crushing on you big time, Mercy.”
“Maybe the tribal PD should start drug testing, because obviously you’ve been smoking crack.”
“Ha-ha. Seriously you wouldn’t see it. Bet you also don’t know your partner-I mean, your coworker, Agent Turnbull-has a big-time crush on you, too. As does my coworker, Officer Orson. Even Nancy in the jail told me you’re da bomb.”
What a load of horseshit. “I think you’re mixing up annoyance and affection, Officer Fergalicious, at least when it comes to my coworker,” I said dryly.
“Think what you want. But I know that Sheldon is mighty interested in you and your contribution to the cases. He’s asked me everything, from what you say about your military service, to how good you are on the shooting range, to your family connections, to your relationship with Sheriff Dawson, to your hobbies.”
Based on my former military position and the need to keep a low profile, a feeling of wrongness churned in my gut. “Huh. Well, I’m really not that interesting.”
“Tell that to the guy who’s carrying around a lock of your hair.”
I went very still. “Excuse me?”
“Kidding, Gunderson. But I wouldn’t put it past him to steal something of yours just so he’d have an excuse to ask if you lost it and could give it back.”
“I hope you didn’t give him my address.”
“You would’ve given him your address when you enrolled in the tribe.”
I remembered the day I’d registered as a member of the tribe, as I’d been suffering from a particularly vicious hangover. Hope was snippy with me because I’d insisted she and Joy come along to enroll. I’d had a sense of resentment that I couldn’t put my real occupation in the army on my application.
My face flushed with mortification. Had I really written “insurgent removal specialist”-aka sniper-on my tribal enrollment form?
Holy shit. Holy, holy, shit. I’d be in huge fucking trouble if the army ever found out.
No wonder Sheldon showed interest in me. Question was-how much interest? Who else had he told? My gaze zoomed back to Officer Ferguson. “I gotta admit, I was really hungover the day I applied for tribal membership. I might’ve written down all sorts of lies and stuff.”
“Whatever you wrote was fascinating enough that Sheldon asked a bunch of questions when you lost the election and took a job with the FBI.”
“Maybe I should pay Sheldon a visit. See if he’s all right. See if he’ll let me write a retraction statement on certain areas of my tribal enrollment form, due to my, ah, liquid creativity.” I paused when she laughed. “Do you know where he lives?”
A guilty look crossed her face.
I tried to keep it light. “Come on, Fergalicious, you already said you had a tiny crush on him. I’d think it was weird if you didn’t know.”
Fergie flashed me a sheepish grin. “When you put it that way… he lives about three miles out of town toward Crested Buttes. There’s an owl sitting on top of his mailbox, and the entrance to his place is through a gate. I’ve never seen the house because it’s behind a bunch of trees.” She paused. “You really thinking of going out there?”
“Nah. Just yanking your chain, trying to make you jealous that your crush has a crush on me.” I forced a smile. “I’ve got too much to do. The FBI is running me ragged trying to put something together on these cases.”
“Good luck with that. I’ll see you around.”
20
Halfway to Sheldon’s house I considered whipping a U-turn and heading back to the VS office.
But that little voice in my head and that gut feeling the FBI advised me to discount… were clamoring for attention. I had nothing else to do but fret about Mason, or count the hours until Lex was dismissed from school.
Or I could find a quiet corner in Stillwell’s and drink.
Nah.
I drove past Sheldon’s slowly, staking out the place, but with no traffic, it really didn’t matter who saw what I was doing. Thirty yards from the turnoff was a steel gate. The front entrance was secured with a heavy chain and a lock. Talk about overkill. Usually, a security system around here was a neon sign to robbers. We have something of worth that needs protection, please rob us.
What valuables did Sheldon have that required such security measures?
Then I remembered he lived with an elderly uncle. If the man suffered from Alzheimer’s, then I understood the need for extra precautions. I scanned the fence line. Sturdy fencing. KEEP OUT and NO HUNTING and NO TRESPASSING signs were attached at random intervals.
There wasn’t a gravel road running along the backside of the property, so I turned around, debating my next move. Park at the gate and wander up the driveway, claiming I was worried when he hadn’t shown up in the archives department?
Would that give him the wrong idea? Especially since Fergie was convinced the man had a crush on me?
Was there any logical reason for me to be here besides those niggling feelings that wouldn’t allow me to leave it be?
No, a stealth entry would be my best option.
Leaving my vehicle by the side of the road might raise questions. At the next entrance to the adjoining field, I drove over a cattle guard and bounced along the field, hoping it wasn’t a bull pasture. As soon as I reached the base of a hill, I shut off my pickup. I slipped on a camo Carhartt coat. I kept my gun on my hip and left the coat unbuttoned as I slid from the cab.