Double Blind (21 page)

“Both of you think Billy’s guilty, don’t you?” Sam said.

“Yes. And you?” Burt replied.

“No.”

“And why not?”

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Sam rested her elbows on the table. “And, I don’t think the man that ran over me that night was Billy.”

“Why not?” Burt asked.

“Same size, but this guy was thicker and had an unforgettable odor.”

Wade looked at her over the lip of his beer bottle. “Still could’ve been Billy. I don’t have to tell you how unreliable eyewitnesses can be.” He smiled. “No offense, but it was a rather sudden encounter you had. And dark. And I’d imagine more than a little frightening.”

“That’s true,” Sam said. “So far, all the evidence is circumstantial. Of course, the hair fibers and the DNA could change all that.”

“We’ll know soon, I guess,” Wade said.

“Billy’s that big old hairy guy we see in town sometimes, isn’t he?” Niki asked.

“Yeah,” Hollis said.

“He’s looks scary to me,” Niki said.

“But, that doesn’t make him guilty,” Sam said. “Have you ever met him?”

“No.”

“You should,” Sam said. “He’s actually quite intelligent.”

Wade eyed Sam. “Do you plan to talk with Billy again?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

Sam noticed that Wade kept flashing looks at Burt. “He and I are butting heads right now. He seems to like you. At least he took your advice about giving up the samples and prints. Maybe you can find out a few things.”

Sam shrugged. “Would this chat be official?”

Wade cut his eyes toward Burt, but quickly looked back at Sam. “More an unofficial pow-wow. Just two citizens shooting the breeze.” Wade leaned back and shoved the fingers of his right hand beneath his belt. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that might step on Billy’s rights. Anything some smart ass lawyer could use if we do make a case against him.”

“Since I’m not part of the posse, so to speak,” Sam said, “I wouldn’t be restrained by the same rules as you.”

Again, Wade glanced at Burt and Sam thought she caught a slight nod of Burt’s head from the corner of her eye. “Something like that. He might open up and talk to you. Maybe keep this whole thing from getting ugly.” Wade said.

“Sure,” Sam said. “Who knows, maybe he’ll confess.”

*

Sam drove slowly on the way home, Alyss sitting next to her, Shelby in the back seat, head rocking with the rap beat that spilled from her headphones. Sam’s brain churned over her conversation with Burt and Wade again and again.

“You OK?” Alyss asked.

“Sure. Why’d you ask?”

“You’re off somewhere.”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Something doesn’t smell right.” Sam said.

“Such as?” Alyss asked.

Sam peeked at Shelby in the rear view mirror. Shelby appeared lost in her music. “I’ll tell you later.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Shelby?”

Shelby pulled her headphones down around her neck and lowered the volume on her iPod. “Yeah?”

“What exactly did you see up there?”

“I don’t know.”

“But, you don’t think it was a bear. Why?”

“It like stood up. On its back legs. Like a man. A big hairy smelly man.”

“Hairy? You didn’t say that before.”

“I didn’t?” She cocked her head to one side. “I didn’t get a good look. It was pretty dark in the trees. But I think it was hairy.”

“Hairy as in a beard?”

“I had the feeling it was, you know, like hairy all over. If it was some dude, maybe he had a beard and was wearing dark clothes or something.”

“Was he or it as big as Billy?”

“At least.”

*

After they got home, Shelby went to her room, while Sam and Alyss had a cup of tea on the porch. Sam watched Alyss as she sipped her tea and gazed out across the valley. This was a conversation she didn’t want to have, but she really had no choice. Better just to jump right into it.

“How do you feel about Burt?” Sam asked.

Alyss smiled. “I like him. He’s easy going and fun to talk with. And, well, he’s handsome.”

“And?”

“And what?” Alyss laughed. “You mean could it get serious? I don’t know. Maybe, in time. Right now, it’s just good not to think about all the crap I’ve been through with Dan.”

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Shelby, but I think Burt and Wade are trying to frame Billy.”

“You’re not serious? Why would they?”

Sam told Alyss of her conversation with Billy about his land and Burt’s tricks to steal it. And of her feeling that Burt was overly involved in the investigation. “Then, Wade wants me to buddy up to Billy. Try to get him to confess or whatever.”

“So? That makes sense to me.”

 “The fact that he asked me to get friendly with Billy isn’t what bothers me. He seemed to wait for Burt’s permission before asking.”

“How do you know that?”

“A look passed between them. One of those giving-getting permission looks.”

“You think Burt might be pulling Wade’s strings?”

“Maybe. And Billy said they had some kind of arrangement.”

“You mean payoff?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s Billy’s take on it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first case of police corruption,” Alyss said.

Sam finished her tea and placed the cup on the porch. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

“Niki told me some interesting things about Burt.”

“Oh?”

“She doesn’t care much for Mr. Eagan, it seems. She feels he’s a bad influence on Hollis.”

“The same Hollis that’s sleeping with a girl that could be his granddaughter?”

“That’s what I thought. At first. But, seeing them together today, it’s more than that.”

“Come on, Sam.”

Sam held up a hand, palm out. “Just hear me out.” She told Alyss about her bedroom conversation with Niki.

“And you believe her?”

“I don’t know. But after today, I know Burt and Wade are up to something and Niki just might know what it is.”

“You plan to talk to her again?”

“Absolutely. In the meantime, I just want you to keep your eyes open. Be careful. Burt may not be what he seems.”

“Is anybody? Remember, I was married to Dan.”

“Dan’s just playing Peter Pan. Burt may be something else again.”

*

Burt stirred the fire and added another log. He poured two glasses of cognac, handed one to Hollis, and then eased into one of the chairs. Hollis sat on the sofa. Niki, Conner, and Kelly had already gone to bed and except for the occasional crackle and hiss from the fireplace the house was quiet.

“What do you think Shelby saw up there?” Hollis asked.

“A bear.”

“You know Goddamn well it wasn’t any bear. And it wasn’t a bear that spooked that couple that was honeymooning at Alyss’. It was him.”

“He’s dead.” Burt stared at the fire and sipped his cognac.

“You don’t know that. You never found his body.”

“Nobody could have survived that fall,” Burt said.

“Nobody normal. But he wasn’t. You saw what he had become.”

Burt sighed. “Yes. I saw.”

“And if that was him, if he is alive, he could talk. Where would that leave us?”

“Don’t worry. I have things under control.”

“Shit.” Hollis stood and paced before the hearth.

“Walt and Ted are coming down. They’ll track down whoever or whatever is up there.”

Hollis drained his glass and refilled it. “I hope to hell you’re right. That son-of-a-bitch has already screwed up everything and if he talks, we’re dead.”

“If he exists, he’ll never get the chance.”

Hollis stopped pacing and turned toward Burt. “So, you admit that it could be him.”

“Anything’s possible, but I think they all saw a bear. Or Billy. And if Walt and Ted just happen to run across Billy up there, our troubles...all our troubles...are over.”

Hollis sighed and collapsed into one of the chairs. “And what about Sam? She seems to be on Billy’s side.”

“Relax. She’s a visitor. She’ll be gone in another week or so.”

Hollis turned and looked at him. “And in the meantime?”

“If she becomes a problem, we’ll deal with that, too.”

Hollis shook his head. “You’re amazing. How can you be so calm about all this?”

“Not calm. Rational. I have all the bases covered.” He swirled the cognac in his glass and took a sip. “Besides, when the hair and DNA match Billy to the crime, Sam will become a true believer. An ally.”

“They had better match.”

“They will.”

Fatigue weighed heavily on Walt Packer. He had slept little the night before, drinking and bouncing around with Lois. He hadn’t seen her in three weeks, her husband being unable to work his usual night shift at the Wayside Motel due to a back injury. Lois made up for lost time. He finally extricated himself from her a little after two and made his way home only to find a message from Burt Eagan on his answering machine, telling him to round up Ted Smyth and be at Casa Grande by eight.

Begging off never crossed his mind. Five hundred a day and two grand each if they bagged their prey, working for Burton Eagan was a perk he cherished. Four and half hours of sleep, three cups of coffee, and a couple of stale donuts had pumped enough life into him so that he made it with time to spare.

It was a gray morning and promised to become even grayer. Bruised clouds gathered to the north and spilled over the peaks into the valley. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Walt stood just inside the stable, next to Ted and out of the fine mist that muted the morning. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt, denim jacket, and a sweat stained Stetson. He pulled a cigarette from the wrinkled Marlboro pack in his shirt pocket and tapped down the tobacco on the face of his watch. He flicked a match to life with his thumbnail and lit the cigarette with one long drag. Smoke trailed from his nostrils. “Gonna be a shit day,” he said.

“Yep,” Ted agreed. He pinched a wad of tobacco from a zippered pouch and shoved it into his left cheek, wedging it into position with his tongue.

Walt looked up as Burt’s Range Rover approached and came to a stop near them. “Morning,” he said as Burt stepped from the vehicle.

Ted nodded, saying nothing. He pressed the tips of his index and middle fingers against his lips and launched a thick stream of brown spittle out the door into the mist.

Burt looked up at the sky. “Looks like a front’s moving in.”

“Yeah,” Walt said. “Won’t last long.”

“Carlos saddled horses for you,” Burt said. “I had him grab a couple of ponchos, too.”

“So, we got a bear up there?” Walt said, the cigarette bobbing in the corner of his mouth.

“A bear of some type.”

“I see.” Walt glanced at Ted and then back to Burt, cocking his head to one side. “This wouldn’t happen to be the same one we hunted a couple of months back, would it?”

“Possible. Or it could be that other bear that has caused us so much trouble.”

Walt pursed his lips. “I’d guess we’d have the right to defend ourselves in either case.”

Burt locked his gaze on Walt. “Of course, without a body your rights would never come into question.”

Walt stared out at the drizzle. “Maybe he’s holed up for the day. With this weather.”

“Perhaps,” Burt said.

“I ‘spect we’ll see.” The ash fell from his cigarette and landed on his boot.

Carlos appeared from the rear of the stable, leading their horses, two oiled canvas ponchos draped over one arm. Walt slid his rifle into the saddle’s scabbard, pulled on the poncho, and took the reins.

After Ted slid his poncho over his head, he fired another wad of tobacco juice out the door, and then checked the saddle’s cinch. “Let’s get at it,” he said and mounted the horse.

Walt swung into the saddle and looked down at Burt. “We’ll be back by sunset.” He flicked the cigarette butt into a rain puddle. “Maybe sooner.”

Walt urged his horse forward, into the gentle rain. Ted followed. They crossed the open fields of Casa Grande, weaving through the 500 head of cattle, which, with the exception of a few turned heads, ignored their passage.

Walt tilted his hat back and examined the sky. Thick black clouds capped the valley and fat raindrops began to fall, hammering a steady rhythm on the brim of his Stetson. He pushed his horse into a gallop, taking a direct path toward the cover of the forest.

As he entered the trees, he yanked on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop. Ted sidled up next to him. Walt pointed ahead.

“What the hell?” Ted said.

Before them lay the carcass of a calf. Its throat had been ripped open and several chunks of flesh gouged from its shoulder, flanks, and rump. Predators had gnawed away skin and flesh. Two crows balanced on an exposed rib, cawing a loud protest at the intrusion, and eyed the two men with cocked heads. As Ted and Walt dismounted and approached, they took to the nearby trees where their scolding continued.

Walt knelt beside the mutilated animal. “This wasn’t no bear.” He stood, surveyed the area, and then turned his attention back to the dead calf. “This is fairly fresh. Two days. Three at the outside.”

“Burt ain’t going to be none too happy about this,” Ted offered.

“I think the bear that did this is the two footed variety and carries a knife,” Walt said. He lit a cigarette, the end glowing hotly in the gloom as he took a deep pull.

“It’s him, ain’t it?” Ted asked.

Walt nodded. “That’d be a safe bet.”

The wind whipped the treetops releasing deep moans and creaks from their trunks and shaking water loose from their dark green needles. Walt cupped his cigarette in his hand to keep it dry.

Ted untied one flap of his saddlebag and retrieved a pint of Jack Daniel's. He took a swig and offered it to Walt. “Where you think he’s at?”

Walt took a couple of pulls from the bottle and passed it back. “Bet he’s holed up in one of the mines. It’s not like he could stroll into town and get a room at the Begley.”

“You figure we can find him?”

“Eventually.”

Ted took another swig and then stuffed the bottle back into his saddlebag. “You think he’s different? I mean, you saw him before. Maybe he’s even worse now.”