“Hi,” I said, approaching, “I need to ask for information on an…inmate.”
“Sure,” he said, bright smile and glowing cheeks. “What’s the name?”
“Damon Peters.”
He clicked around on a computer and frowned.
“Can you spell it?” he asked.
I did. He frowned again.
“Problem?” I asked.
“Not showing up in our system.”
“Ok. Well can you tell me when he was released?”
“No,” he said, looking up at me, “that means he’s never been here.”
I wiped my hands on my jeans. “Huh.”
“You sure you’re at the right jail?”
“Eagle County?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Maybe…maybe he was never formally arrested.”
He shook his head. “Shouldn’t matter. Anyone comes through those doors, they go in the system. Long as they’re charged with something, I mean. Not people like you.”
“Right,” I said. “Is there anyone else I could talk to?”
“You could,” he said, “but it wouldn’t do you any good. They’re lookin’ at the same screen I am.”
I said nothing and processed the information.
“You want me to call the guys over at Summit County?” he asked. “Could’ve been just a simple mix up.”
“No,” I said, “thanks.” I knew I was at the right place. I left through the front door.
In the parking lot, I tried Damon’s cell phone again. Straight to voicemail. Expected. Something was off, again. I’d been right about the drugs, and I was right about this. I knew it. I didn’t trust a single damn person.
I zipped up my fleece and walked to my car. The parking lot was nearly empty; not a lot of action on a weekday afternoon at the Eagle County Police Department & Jail. The tree leaves shook in the gentle breeze, most already having turned striking reds and yellows, and many falling to the ground.
On my drive back through the canyon, I was reminded of the beauty of this place. Those autumn colors lined the highway underneath a deep blue sky, like some desktop wallpaper. There was a heart to the Rockies, a crisp earnestness, a far-off wonder. And now there was an infection in it, something that started small and innocuous but grew dangerous. Something I should have caught earlier, but I didn’t want to catch. And now I would have to treat it, because it was inside me. I had let it get out of hand, and now I had to be careful, and I had to treat it.
I was tired, physically and mentally. My mind was exhausted. I felt like a wet animal outside in the cold. I was out of worry, and out of fear. I didn’t give a shit. I called Vince, and the son of a bitch actually answered.
He sighed and greeted me. “Hello again.”
“Vince. Listen. Okay, just listen to me for a minute. Something is off. Something is fucked up. And I don’t know what’s going on, but it isn’t okay. It isn’t.”
“What’s wrong, Julian?”
“Damon,” I said, and then I told him what I knew. Told him about the jail and the database and everything, how it didn’t add up. He let me speak without interrupting, and when I was finished, he invited me to his home.
“We shouldn’t discuss this over the phone,” he said.
“Why not?”
“There are things I can tell you, Julian. I probably should tell you. And I probably should have in the first place. Come up this evening, and we’ll hash it out. I promise you, it will make sense then.”
I told him I’d be there in an hour.
A quick stop at my apartment and a change of clothes, and I was on the road again, gaining elevation. Before I walked out my front door, I surveyed my apartment. I looked at the half-filled duffel bag, still sticking out from under my bed. I considered taking it. Having a go-bag ready, just in case things went sideways. I was tired, but I was still alert. I shook my head, and grabbed the three-inch camping switchblade off the kitchen counter and stuffed it in my pocket. I knew it was silly, but it put me at ease, at least a little.
37
At the door of Vince’s mountain chateau, I raised my hand to knock, but before I could the door swung open. It was Adeline.
“Come in,” she said with a smile. She wore a loose, stylish wool shawl and form-fitting jeans. My adrenaline, already running, spiked when she spoke. I hadn’t seen her since she’d left my apartment. She stood in the doorway and beckoned me inside, wry and knowing, in control. Always in control.
I kept my gaze at eye-level and followed her inside. It struck me as I entered the house that I hadn’t seen her and Vince in the same place since the night I met her. She grazed my shoulder with her hand, and I pulled away.
“Vince is in his office,” she said. “I’ll walk you down there.”
We walked through the living room and down the hallway, to his office at the end. He sat behind his desk when I entered, just like last time, and smiled when he saw me.
“Thank you, Adeline,” he said, and she left us alone. She brushed my side as she walked away.
Vince motioned for me to join him. I sat down across from him, just as I did the last time. This time, he drank coffee. He offered me and I declined.
“You’re spooked,” he said to me. “I understand that.” His demeanor was kind, authentic. He smiled honestly. His gaze was soft. Different from before. He was a powerful man, able to flip a switch and convey whatever he wanted. I almost trusted him.
“Well,” I said, “it’s concerning.” I made a promise to myself on the drive up to avoid hyperbole, or extremes in the conversation. Downplaying would be best. “Damon gets arrested, and calls me from jail. And then hours later, he’s gone, and they have no record of him. Just doesn’t add up.”
“I see,” he said.
“And I know I’m not supposed to ask too many questions and mind my own business and all that. But it’s kind of becoming my business. He was the guy I always worked with, and now I don’t know where he is. And if something like this can happen to him, why can’t it happen to me, you know?”
“Right,” Vince said. He sipped his coffee. “Let me do my best to explain the situation to you, because I owe you that.”
“I’d appreciate it,” I said.
“First, I apologize for the stress all this has put you through. You didn’t deserve it, and it should not have happened.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, Damon was pulled over for speeding and arrested last evening. As I understand it, you were near when it happened.”
“I was,” I said.
“The police took him into custody, and I was immediately notified. Believe it or not, this is not the first time one of our drivers has had a run-in with the police. The I-70 corridor is very sensitive. So I got in touch with my contacts on the police force, and worked out a deal to get Damon out of jail. Very simple. This is a procedure we’ve used multiple times now.”
“So, you…paid them off?”
He smiled. “Julian, I’m sure you can appreciate that while I want to be as forthcoming with you as possible, there are certain nuances on which I cannot go in to specific detail. This is one of those nuances. I can tell you that ‘paid off’ is not the accurate way of describing it.”
“Okay, so you somehow just talked to the cops and they let him out of jail.”
“I’ve been working in these mountains for a long time,” he said, the smile fading temporarily. “I have considerable influence around here. That affords certain luxuries.”