Mrs. Drapeau took a minute to dry her eyes before she answered. “Yes. I can call my sister in Cut Bank. She’ll drive down and stay with me. Thank you, Sheriff Frost.”
Travis pointed to the cards. “People who will help you through this, ma’am. Call the numbers.”
“I will. Thank you.”
We left Mrs. Drapeau waiting for her sister and as Travis and I drove back to the office, he said, “We don’t know if Carl was our killer or not and now we might never find out.”
“We will find out for sure if itwasn’thim,” I said.
“Yep, we will. Thanks for scaring the shit out of me, Tam.”
“Welcome.”
Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.
Back at the office we told Molly about Carl, and she was sad for Mrs. Drapeau. She knew her from church and from their quilting group.
“She finally got him back from the hospital,” said Molly, “and now he’s dead within a week. Such a tragedy for her.”
“Sure is,” I said, “Her sister is driving down to stay with her. You know her sister, Molly?”
“No, I’m not sure I do, dear.”
“Sarge found him,” I said.
Molly smiled at the dogs sitting close to her desk. “Such good boys.”
Max and Sarge were looking a little chunky lately. Molly gave them way too many biscuits when Travis wasn’t looking.
Carl Drapeau was dead. Was he the one who killed the Walkers and left Dillon with no parents? He had no knife with him when we found him. Huh. If he was the killer, we’ll never solve that case.
Dry Run Roadhouse.
On the way home to the ranch, we stopped at the roadhouse for beer and the four of us sat on stools at the bar. Jack, the owner, was Billy’s cousin and he wanted to hear about the progress we’d made on the campground killings.
“Not a lick of progress so far, Jack,” said Travis. “Today we were busy looking for a missing boy. Guy in his twenties. Found him in the bush. Grizzly got him.”
“Who was it? Do I know him?”
“Carl Drapeau,” said Billy. “He’s been in the State Hospital for a few years. Just released.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Ya think they might have been a bit premature giving him his walking papers?”
“Definitely think so,” said Travis. “Carl wasn’t ready to face the real world. He ran off from his mother’s house and that was it.”
“Huh,” said Jack. “How many grizzly kills a year do we have?”
“Five last year,” said Tammy. “Doc Olsen keeps track. Only the one so far.”
“Huh,” said Jack. “Four more to go.”
“The bears ain’t counting,” I said. “They might go for a higher number.”
Tammy made a face. “After seeing what Carl looked like, I hope that ain’t true, Harlan.”
“Just say’n.”
Chapter Five