Page 50 of Shelter for Martina

“Honestly, if I had to guess, I’d say my daddy. Sounds like somethin’ he’d do.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too. If you hear anything—”

“Oh, don’t worry, sir. You’ll be the first person I’ll tell. Look, you look at my record an’ you’ll see I threatened people in the past, even law enforcement, an’ I got in some fights an’ shit, but I ain’t never hurt nobody. Nope. I don’ do that shit. I steal from people when they’s gone. I ain’t into hurtin’ nobody. Like I said, I didn’ do nothin’ to Renita. I don’ hurt people. Ain’t my style.” Bud knew that to be true. In all the records he’d seen on Marty, there were a couple of assaults, but they were brawls, not like he’d truly set out to injure people, and he really didn’t seem like that kind of person anyway.

“Yeah. I know. I respect you for that.” He saw the younger man smile, and it wasn’t smug. He was genuinely pleased that the detective had noticed his respect of others. Sure, he’d take their stuff, but he didn’t want to hurt them, and Bud’s acknowledgement of that seemed to make him happy in some weird way. “I’ve gotta go, but thanks for cooperating, and we’re moving as fast as we can.”

“You’re welcome, detective. If you think of anythin’ else you need, you just call ol’ Marty here. If I can help ya, I will.”

“I appreciate it. Take care now.”

“You too, sir. An’ avoid them two. They’re bad news.”

Bud drove on out to the post. Along the way, he stopped at the farm store and got a collar and leash for Lucky, plus a big chew stick and some treats. She’d like those. When he stepped through the back door, the first person he saw was Len, beckoning him into the captain’s office. “What’s up?”

“Got the ballistics back on the slug the lab dug out of your engine block.”

“So therewasone! What’s the report say?”

“It was a .223 Remington round. The good news is that the same gun that pumped that out was the one that’s been used to poach about ten deer over the last few years. The bad news is we still don’t know who it belongs to.”

“No more clues than that?”

“None except the deer were all in the same area where the four-wheeler was stuck.”

Leaning back against Len’s desk, Bud folded his arms across his chest. “Well, now, isn’t that interesting?”

“Yeah. I thought so. Maybe you need to ask Burgess if his daddy’s got any guns that would fire those rounds.”

“He’s not supposed to. He’s a convicted felon,” Bud pointed out.

“And that’s stopped him since when?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s what he’s going to say though.”

Len scowled. “Of course.”

“I’m going back to the grocery store in Fordsville,” Bud announced and stood up straight.

“I think you should stay away from there.”

“You should know… Somebody was out behind my property last night. The dog picked up on them, and I saw a glint of something metallic.”

“I wish you’d stay away from that grocery.” Len’s lips were pursed into a straight line and his jaw was set, but Bud wasn’t deterred in the least.

“I’ll wear a hat.” He turned at the door and smiled at Len. “How’s that?”

“Good lord.”

“Trust me,” Bud muttered, “the Lord hasn’t got anything to do with this mess.” He never turned around, just walked out, got in the car, and pulled out of the post’s parking lot.

He hadn’t lied. All detectives were issued caps to wear if they wanted, and he picked his up from the front seat of the CrownVic and plopped it on his head as he drove. He never wore one, so maybe if they saw it, they wouldn’t realize it was him. On his way to the grocery, he stopped at a roadside vegetable stand and bought a couple of tomatoes. That damn grocery was sorely lacking in produce, and he wanted something he could eat almost like an apple. The tomatoes were barely ripe, so they were firm, and that would do.

The trip to Fordsville went off without a hitch. Pulling into the lot, he looked around. There didn’t seem to be that many people around, but there were still quite a few. It was ten miles from the next nearest store. Three of the four pumps were busy, and there were usually a couple of cars waiting, so that was a little slow for them. He parked, radioed his position to dispatch, and made his way inside.

Ham was his usual purchase, but the special of the day was a turkey sandwich on wheat with swiss cheese, and that sounded pretty good. While they made the sandwich, he picked out some chips. As soon as the sandwich was ready, he pulled a bottle of water from the cooler, and when he got to the register, he picked up one of the packaged dill pickles they kept there. He’d already pocketed a couple of salt packets from the deli counter for his tomatoes, so he was ready to go. After paying, Bud made his way back to the car and slid in. That was when he saw it.

A glance around didn’t show him anyone nearby. There were no cars parked near him, and no one was milling about, but the note was under his wiper just the same. He reached a long arm out the window, snatched it up, and pulled it into the car. White-hot rage coursed through his whole being when he unfolded it and read the scrawled handwriting.

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