Page 81 of JoyRide

Shelby Fairgrounds.

I parked the squad and me and Tammy took the dogs back to the spot where Danny Burridge went to ground when Tammy shot him.

Our aim was to find out where Burridge was running to. The dogs picked up his scent without any trouble and ran for a ways. When we reached the county road that passed by the fairgrounds, the dogs stopped and sat down.

“He got out of a vehicle here,” I said. “One of his buddies dumped him off. This is a dead end.”

“We need to find thesomebodywho dropped him off,” said Tammy. “Why would Danny be alone at the carney? What was he trying to do?”

Harlan shrugged. “Don’t know why he was there unless he was meeting other kids in the gang. They could have been planning something until you spotted Burridge and made him run.”

“Yeah, maybe. I want to check out Brownwood and see what that’s all about.”

“For sure we can do that, Tam. Home of the pickpockets. Maybe it’s home to more lawbreakers. Let’s go see what we can turn up.”

“Brownwood is a lead we need to follow up on.”

Brownwood. Montana.

Brownwood was a tiny town on our side of the county line. Highway Two cut through the center of town and formed Main Street on its way by. Three or four stores on each side of the highway and a gas station a little farther along.

Branching off Main Street were about six side streets lined with houses. Tammy cruised slowly along each one of the streets and we both watched for anything familiar. Didn’t pick up on anything. Quiet streets with nothing going on.

We turned the last corner heading back to the highway when I saw the sign for Brownwood Mobile Home Park. I pointed and Tammy said, “I see it. Let’s check out the trailers while we’re here.”

About a quarter mile out of Brownwood going north, we came to the park property. Tam drove through the gate into the park and I realized right away that more people lived in this trailer park than in the entire town. There were dozens of trailers. Row after row close together. Only a few feet between them.

A couple of vehicles parked at each trailer, dogs running around barking, kids playing in the streets. A community all on its own.

Driving slowly through the narrow dirt roads, Tammy scanned each trailer on her side of the squad, while I did the same on my side.

“Virgil,” I hollered and made Tammy jump.

“Where? Did you see him? Where is he?”

“Don’t know but I see Dad’s Harley.”

Tammy turned her head and looked across the console so she could see past me. “I see the bike. You’re right, Harlan. Virge must be in that trailer. Let’s go get him.”

Tammy parked in front of the trailer and we both hopped out. “Front or back?”

“Let me take the front,” said Tammy. “If anybody but Virgil comes to the door, they won’t know me. You come in from the back and we’ll lock all of them down. We’ll scoop the drugs and take them all to the lockup. They won’t have a clue we only want Virgil.”

“Okay. Like a sweep. Got it.”

Tammy headed for the front door of the single-wide and I ran around to the back and waited. I couldn’t hear what Tammy was doing or saying at the front door, but I figured she would give me a signal.

I knocked on the front door of the trailer and at first nobody answered. Then a guy I’d never seen before opened the door and stared at me.

I gave him a big smile, tossed my hair, and said, “Hey, I heard you guys were having a party. Can I come in?” Me and Harlan weren’t wearing our uniforms today, so that was lucky.

The guy blocking the door looked about the same age as me and Harlan. Eighteen, nineteen. He smiled and said, “Sure, babe. Come in and party with us.”

I followed him into the trailer and slammed the door hard behind me—loud enough for Harlan to hear it at the back.

There were a couple of ratty sofas in the main room and a table in the middle cluttered with pizza boxes, beer cans and drugs. Baggies, pill bottles and more.

Dirty floors and the air was polluted with weed and the smell of garbage and man-sweat.

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