Page 123 of The Killing Plains

She got the answer, but it gave her no insight.

“We have to go, we have to go.” Colly wrenched herself out of Avery’s grip and scrambled into the patrol car. “I know who killed Denny.”

Chapter 33

Colly was aware of very little except the roar of the squad car’s engine and the rushing sounds of wind and road as they raced towards the Newland Ranch. She sat in the passenger seat, staring into the distance. Random phrases, seemingly insignificant at the time, churned into her consciousness with a new and terrible relevance.

“Denny looked like a boiled shrimp after ten minutes outside...” “They figured she was a neighbor’s relative, since their dogs didn’t bark ...” “We’ve got some more things for the thrift shop...”

Colly’s shoulders were hunched and aching. She forced herself to relax the muscles, but that didn’t stop the barrage of memories. They slipped into place like scraps of a torn photograph magically reassembling itself as she watched.

“Denny didn’t have no red caps...” “There was play-therapy toys all over...” “He was going to the library to return some books for his mom... something changed his mind...” “No kid’s hereditarily doomed to be a monster...”

“Shouldn’t we call ahead?” Avery asked. “Practically all the local cops are there—they could make an arrest.”

Colly looked up. “Too risky. Might scare the killer into doing something rash.”

Hours seemed to pass before they spotted the streamer flags announcing the entrance to the Rattlesnake Rodeo. A long line of vehicles idled on the shoulder of the Old Ranch Way, waiting to enter. A police deputy stood at the entrance, directing traffic.

“Nice and easy,” Colly said. “Don’t want folks thinking there’s any emergency.”

Avery grunted and stepped on the brake. Skirting the line of cars, they waved to the deputy and turned onto the dusty track that the Newlands opened once a year to serve as the event’s access road. After jolting across the ranchland for half a mile, they spotted the white roof of the circus tent with a Lone Star flag flying from its peak. Passing the crowded makeshift parking lot, they stopped at the construction fence that circled the Rodeo grounds.

“What’s the plan?” Avery asked.

“I’ll start on this end. You go around to the employee entrance. We’ll work towards the middle. You know who we’re looking for.”

Avery chewed her lip. “Yeah, but I don’t know how you’re so sure. It’d suck to make a mistake—considering who it is.”

“It’s no mistake. I’ll explain later. There’s no time now.” Colly leapt out, slipping through the main gate as Avery drove off in a cloud of red dust.

Although she’d seen the Rodeo being set up just two days earlier, Colly was unprepared for the size of the crowd or the assault on her senses. Country music blared from speakers fixed to tall posts, competing with shouting children, barking dogs, and a cacophony of tunes emanating from numerous booths and arcades. The odors of hot dogs, cotton candy, and beer hung in the air, mixed with the acrid smells of cooking grease and sun-ripening garbage. Vendors dressed in all sorts of outlandish costumes shouted and waved in an attempt to attract the milling crowds to booths selling everything from t-shirts and ballcaps to rattlesnake-leather wallets, belts, holsters, and Bible covers.

There must be a couple thousand people here, Colly thought, pushing her way through the hot, jostling crush.

It was just past noon. The clouds on the western horizon had darkened to a menacing blue-black. They were closer but hadn’t yet obscured the sun, which beat down through the haze like a disk of tarnished silver. The air was muggy and oppressive. After ten minutes and only a hundred yards of progress, Colly was sweating profusely. She stumbled over an obese basset hound and was apologizing absently to its owner when she caught a glimpse of ash-blond hair and long, tanned legs across the way.

“Alice!” she yelled, but her voice was drowned in the surrounding hubbub. Disentangling herself from the dog’s leash, Colly fought her way through the crowd to a booth where her niece and several other teens were attempting to toss horseshoes around a row of stakes for a prize.

She laid a hand on Alice’s shoulder, and the girl turned. “Aunt Colly—I didn’t know you were here.”

“Thought I’d come see what the fuss is about.” Colly wiped her forehead. “Have you seen your dad?”

“A few minutes ago. He and Uncle Lowell were heading to the big tent.”

“What about Grandma and Aunt Brenda?”

Alice shrugged. “Gran’s judge turned up while we were buying the kids some balloons, and after that I got separated from everyone, somehow.”

“Who has the kids?”

“Logan went to the Ferris wheel with some friends. Satchel and Minnie were with Gran and Aunt Brenda, last I saw.”

“If you run across any of them, text me, okay?”

Alice cheerfully agreed, and Colly pushed once more in the direction of the massive tent. A wide area around its entrance had been left free of booths and stands to create a sort of improvisedplaza. Here the crowd thinned slightly. Seeing no one she knew, Colly moved towards the tent’s entrance. Standing beside it was a uniformed officer—Jimmy Meggs. Looking hot and slightly hungover, he greeted her with an irritable nod. But when she pulled him aside and murmured some instructions in his ear, his eyes widened.

“I think the person I’m looking for is probably inside this tent,” Colly said. “Whatever happens, don’t let them get away. Tackle and cuff them, if you have to. But keep them here—and contact Avery or me ASAP. Got it?”

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