Page 4 of Shelter for Martina

“That’s because I’m not a trooper. I’m a KSP detective. I just paid a visit to Mrs.Martina Anderson. Name ring a bell?”

The sheriff rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. That girl’s mother.”

If he’d wanted to get on Bud’s bad side, he’d just managed it with two words. “‘That girl?’ You do know she’s missing, right?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s missing, all right. Missing a few thousand brain cells. That little drug-addled—”

“Before you say something you’re going to regret, I’d like to remind you that you’re supposed to be a professional law enforcement officer, sir, and I’ll accept nothing but that kind of behavior here. Are we clear?” Bud asked, drawing himself up to his full six feet and one inch of height.

“Put away your big guns, gray boy. I don’t need your shit,” the sheriff drawled, and Bud saw red. “That girl’s been involved in more things than you can shake a stick at. Yeah, we got the damn missing person’s report, but if we chased down every junkie in this county, we wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

That was the moment—the moment in which BudGriffin decided he’d take RenitaAnderson’s case and fuck the OhioCounty Sheriff’s Department. If they cared no more than that, they wouldn’t do an adequate job anyway. “Uh-huh. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take it from here.” Without taking his gaze from the sheriff’s face, he yelled out, “TrooperMichaels!”

There was a commotion behind him and he heard footsteps stop beside him. “Yes, sir.”

“You and Trooper what’s-his-name over there—”

“TrooperDennison?”

“Yeah. You andTrooper Dennison, I’ve got a job for you. I need you to go to MartinaAnderson’s house and take a report of a missing person.” He handed Eldred the paper with MartinaAnderson’s address on it. “Dennison!” Bud yelled.

Another set of footsteps stopped short, and yet Bud never took his eyes from the sheriff’s face. “Yes, sir?”

“There is a car up on WaterwayRoad. I need you to go up there and sit with it. Call one of our wreckers to take it to the lab. I want it gone over for fingerprints, fibers, hair, and body fluids. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.” He heard them walk away and glared at the sheriff.

“And what car is that?” the sheriff spat.

“Doesn’t concern you anymore. We’ll take it from here.That girlneeds to be found, andwe’llfind her. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sheriff.” Bud stalked away, but he had to pass right by ArlenCole, and he knew exactly what he wanted to say to the young deputy. “Arlen?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You ever thought you might want to be a trooper?”

The deputy looked genuinely flustered. “Uh, yes, sir!”

“I just got into a pissing contest with your sheriff. I want to be sure I’m the one who wins it. Keep me informed on the MartyBurgess case, wouldja?” Bud said, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, sir. I sure will.”

“Good. This works out well and I’ll see if I can get you a spot in the academy.” Bud wasn’t blowing smoke up Arlen’s ass. DierksCole, Arlen’s uncle, had been one of Bud’s high school classmates. The Coles were good people, hard workers, smart, and self-sufficient. Arlen would make a good trooper and if the sheriff wasn’t careful, KSP would snatch him right out from under the department.

Bud slid back into his car and headed to PostSixteen outside Henderson. It appeared he had a lot of work to do if he was going to find RenitaAnderson.

* * *

The afternoon had been shit.When he got to the post, there was all kinds of drama going on. The multi-department drug bust that had taken place that morning had fallen to crap when one of the suspects shot another suspect. Nobody was in a good mood, and you could tell it from the level of noise in the office. Bud couldn’t think with all that going on.

He spent the rest of the afternoon at the courthouse, looking at court documents. MartinaAnderson had been truthful. Renita had been in all kinds of trouble over drugs, but most of it was petty stuff. None of it had resulted in more than thirty days in jail, and even then she usually got out early for good behavior. The girl was a drug addict, but she wasn’t a hardened criminal.

MartyBurgess, on the other hand, was the worst of the worst. He’d been a suspect in at least one murder, several stabbings and shootings, and had been busted for drugs more times than you could count with borrowed fingers and toes. Worse yet, a lot of the documents weren’t even there—they were in Owensboro at the federal courthouse, because he’d had federal charges brought against him. Starting in the year he turned sixteen, he’d spent more time in prison than out. His mother said he’d threatened to kill himself. Had it ever occurred to anybody to just let him?

It was four o’clock before the lab called and asked him for more information on the car, so it was obvious they wouldn’t get to even look at it until the next day, much less process it. As soon as he hung up with them, he realized they’d probably gotten several cars from the drug bust, and he mentally kicked himself because his should’ve gotten there first.

There was nothing left to do except go to the house. After a quick stop at the store, Bud drove home and started some water boiling. When he got the boxed macaroni and cheese done, he drained a can of tuna and plopped it in there, then stirred it in. That and his little salad would be dinner. Yeah, it wasn’t much, but he truly didn’t care. It was food. That was all that mattered.

As soon as the news came on, he felt his skin crawl at the pictures of the group looking for Burgess and the sheriff standing there with them, all puffed up and crowing about how they had two missing persons cases to work on.Not while I have breath, he told himself and reached for his phone.

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