Page 79 of Shadows Reel

“Syracuse,” Viktór said. He was glad he remembered the city.

“New York?”

“Yes.”

“With Illinois plates?”

Viktór felt his chest tighten. Why couldn’t László have stolen New York plates?

Next to him, he heard his brother whisper to him.

“It’s a rental,” Viktór repeated. Then: “Is there some reason why you’re looking it over and waking me up?”

“Sorry to disturb you. I really am. We got a call from the next county to look out for a green Nissan Pathfinder in the area. When I saw this one, I pulled in here to check it out. But we’re looking for a car with Colorado plates. In the light from the motel, I thought the plates were green like Colorado, but I see now this one is kind of a shade of blue. And it’s the wrong state, so I apologize again for disturbing you on a holiday.”

“It’s okay,” Viktór said. “Good night, Officer.”

Then Deputy Schuster did something Viktór didn’t anticipate. Instead of climbing back into his cruiser, he stepped from the dirt parking lot onto the sidewalk of the motel directly in front of the open door. “What brings you all the way out here to Gillette, Wyoming, Mr. Hardy?”

“I’m looking for property out west,” Viktór said. “You’veheard what it’s like back there. No jobs, no future. I need to get away. I like wide-open spaces.”

Deputy Schuster said, “You know, I understand. I watch the news. People on top of each other, lots of crime. I can’t say that sounds like much fun.”

“It isn’t. Now, if you don’t mind...”

“I’ve never been east of Nebraska myself,” Schuster said. “I’ve never felt the need. Can I offer you a piece of advice?”

Viktór didn’t want to close the door in the man’s face, but the back-and-forth was taking a direction he didn’t like. And the cop took another step closer until he was standing in the threshold of the door. If Viktór closed the door, he would literally hit the man. It could be construed as an assault.

In his peripheral vision, Viktór saw László raise the shotgun on the other side of the open door. There was an inch and a half of cheap compound board between the double-barreled muzzle of the weapon and the ear of the deputy.

“What’s your advice?” Viktór asked, not really wanting to hear any.

“Gillette is a real nice town, don’t get me wrong,” Schuster said. “I grew up here so I know. It’s got the nicest people in the world. Real friendly folks. But it’s an energy town. Coal, and coal’s dying. There are probably other towns in Wyoming you’d like better to settle down in. Have you been to Sheridan?”

“No,” Viktór said morosely.

“Buffalo? Cody?”

“No, no.”

“I wouldn’t recommend Jackson Hole unless you can affordit. Judging by your choice of accommodations, I’d say that’s a long shot.”

“Okay.”

“You might want to try those places out, is what I’m saying.”

Viktór felt his face flush with anger. He was grateful the cop wasn’t shining the flashlight at him to see it. “Thank you, Officer. Now I’m really tired and I want to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Is there just one of you in there?” Deputy Schuster said.

Viktór felt his scalp twitch. “Why?”

“Well, this SUV we’re looking for had two men in it. So I was just wondering if you were alone.”

“I’m here with my brother, Greg,” Viktór said. “He’s sleeping and I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, I can see through the door that you two did a number on a pizza and drank plenty of beer tonight. Kind of a sorry-ass Thanksgiving. Is your brother looking to move out here, too?”

---