Page 52 of Three-Inch Teeth

DALLAS CATES AND Axel Soledad lounged in the far corner of the deep end of the indoor hot springs mineral pool while wisps of slightly sulfur-smelling steam rose from the water. Gentle waves lapped at them, the disturbance emanating from the splashing of a young American Indian family in the shallow end. Cates could barely make them out through the steam, their forms rendered into shadowy outlines. A young mother and her four- or five-year-old twins. A boy and a girl. The girl was shrill and her cries cut right through the stillness of the late afternoon.

Thermopolis, or “Thermop,” as Wyoming residents called it, had fewer than three thousand people. Its claim to fame was the large volume of geothermal water that came out of the ground and filled a number of public and private pool facilities. Hellie’s Tepee Pools, where Cates and Soledad were located, was a large geodesic dome-like structure with diving boards and a curved plastic waterslide and very few visitors this time of day.

Thermopolis was only one hundred and thirty-eight miles southwest of Saddlestring over the top of the Bighorn Mountains. Legend had it that it took “twelve sleeps” for the Native American Indians to make the trek on foot and horseback, thus the eventual name of Twelve Sleep County.

The drive would be less than three hours in Bobbi Johnson’s vehicle.

*

BECAUSE SOUND CARRIED across the water in the indoor facility, both men spoke in whispers.

“She doesn’t like me, I don’t think,” Soledad said.

“Who, Bobbi?”

“Yeah, Bobbi.”

“She doesn’t like anyone,” Cates said. “Especially not LOR.”

“That’s obvious. If those two got in a knife fight, I’d bet on her.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t think she likes this whole deal,” Soledad said, using his chin to sweep around the facility to include them all. “She doesn’t like sharing you with me, and especially not LOR, for that matter.”

“She’ll get through it,” Cates said. “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s harsh,” Soledad chuckled.

“It is, but it’s true.”

“She won’t talk, will she? Do you trust her to keep her mouth shut?”

Cates filled his cupped hands with warm water and raised them over his head to soak himself. As he smoothed down his hair, he said, “Bobbi knows what would happen if she turned on me. On us. Plus, she knows she’s implicated. She’ll keep her mouth shut.”

“You know her better than I do,” Soledad said.

Cates shrugged. “I don’t know her all that well, but I know people like her. I just spent the last few years with them.”

“Where did you find her?”

“She found me,” Cates said with a snort. “She sent me a bunch of letters when I was in Rawlins. It kind of escalated from there.”

“She likes bad boys, I guess.”

“She doesn’t like you, though,” Cates said, and Soledad agreed.

*

BOBBI JOHNSON ALSO apparently didn’t like the mineral water. She sat in a lounge chair in a rented one-piece swimsuit, looking at her phone.

A few minutes before, Cates had seen LOR, in his bright orange rental suit and flip-flops, try to sit next to her. She’d told him to fuck off loud enough that the mother tried to cover the ears of her children and she held them tightly for a moment. Only when LOR sulked away to an indoor picnic table a hundred feet away did the mother usher her children out of the pool area.

Cates and Soledad looked up when they realized someone was hovering over them. It was the attendant, a ginger-haired teenager with problem acne wearing a Hellie’s polo and red Converse tennis shoes. He was the one who had sold them tickets to enter, as well as rented swimsuits to them all, which Soledad had paid for in cash.

“This is just to let you guys know that we close the pool at five in the winter months.”

“It’s winter?” Cates asked.

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