Page 118 of Cougar Point

He seethes for a moment and then seems to calm down. “So. Find anything? Did I miss a big clue, detectives?”

I say, “We need to step over to your car, Lucas.”

“Now, what’s this about?” he asks when we reach his SUV.

I’d watched Ronnie’s hand go in her pocket as she walked in front of me. I hope I know what that means.

“First of all, I’m sorry if I’ve pissed you off.”Not.“Ronnie says I could make an enemy of the Pope.” A smile threatens his lips but he kills it.

“Stop blowing smoke up my ass. Get to it.”

“What will happen to you after this? Your old partner told us you’re very close to retirement.”

“You’ve been talking to Larry Stroud?” The pissed-off look is back.

“It’s only fair that we know each other better. Don’t you think so?” I say.

“Whatever he told you is horseshit. Larry was caught stealing from a dope deal. I didn’t turn him in because he was my partner. He’d run into some bad times. Divorce. You know. So he retired, and I let it go. Whatever he told you about me is just vengeful crap. I know he thought I had something to do with my wife’s and daughter’s deaths. And thank you very much for reminding me. He was wrong. I was cleared. But I went through hell. So what’s your point?”

Ronnie says, “Where’s the ransom money?”

The question catches Lucas off guard and he hesitates a little too long before saying, “There was no money here. Your dad gave it to Thundercloud if I’m not mistaken. He must have hidden it somewhere before coming back here.”

I give him a skeptical look that saysSTFU.

“There’s Thundercloud’s truck back in the trees. Go search it if you want. The money wasn’t in the bunker, and I looked in the truck and it wasn’t there either.”

I hadn’t seen the Chevy truck. It was pulled back in the trees about fifty feet. The driver’s door still stands open.

I say, “We believe you that the money is not in either of those places.”

Ronnie steps closer to Lucas. “So where is the money, Sergeant Lucas?”

“Sheriff Longbow will put me on medical leave. There’ll be a shooting board. Maybe I’ll take early retirement.”

“It must be nice to have that many years in. I’m far from retirement. Unless I get fired.”

He laughs. It isn’t that funny. My getting fired appeals to him.

“I’ve known dozens of detectives like you, Megan. You’ll go kicking and screaming when it’s time to go. We all think we’re making a difference. That this job wants us. Needs us. But that’s a lie. This job just eats us up and throws us away.”

This is not the Sergeant Lucas I’ve met. He was gung-ho. This one has one foot out the door already. Maybe ten million dollars has something to do with the new attitude. Or maybe I’m on the wrong path here. Maybe he’s a devoted civil servant who has been wounded in battle and ready to hang up his shooting irons. Nah.

Ronnie opens the passenger door of Lucas’s car and says, “You said we could search for the money. Is it in here?”

“Get out of my car! You have no right.”

He’s too late. Ronnie holds up a grease-stained red bandana. “Well, well. This belongs to Duke. What was he doing in your car?”

Just for a second, he seems to lose his cool. He knows that we know Duke was in his car. And the only way that would have happened would have been if they were together before the shooting.

“You put that there!” he shouts, too quickly. “Your fingerprints are on my door handle.” He’ll have a lot of time to practice sounding convincing saying that at the trial, but I give him a 2 out of 10 right now.

“Bullshit, Lucas, you know Duke left it there because you know he was in your car. Care to explain how that could be?”

He looks like a grounded goldfish for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, trying to think of an excuse. Then his eyes narrow and a look of smug satisfaction crosses his face.

“Wait a second, look at that thing.”

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