Page 50 of Longest Ride

Travis tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. “Stress kills the appetite, Maryanne.”

She shook her head. “A lot of people are stress eaters, Sheriff. That’s how they cope.”

“I ain’t one of those.”

They ordered lunch and Wyatt pulled his notebook out of the pocket of his jacket. He raised an eyebrow when Travis pulled his out too.

“You’re taking notes?” Wyatt laughed a little nervously. “You’ve never done that before.”

Travis looked Wyatt in the eye. “What’s your game, Wyatt?”

“What do you mean?”

“Cut the shit. You sent your girlfriend to Paula Fleming’s house to get the dirty on the murders. I could call that interfering with a homicide investigation.”

Wyatt pushed back from the table and inhaled a big breath. “I didn’t see how it could hurt. Stacey and Paula are friends from high school. Stacey told me she knew Paula Fleming when we discussed the murders.”

“So, you encouraged Stacey to call her friend and volunteer to help with Harry’s funeral arrangements?”

“Something like that.”

“Funny, I never thought of you as a weasel, Wyatt. Not until now. You watch yourself or you might find that you’re writing your next column from a cell.”

“Come on, Travis. Lighten up. I didn’t break any laws.”

Travis stood up and called to Maryanne, “Make my lunch to go.”

“Sure. I’ll pack it up for you, Sheriff.”

Fleming Residence. Valier.

Ted started his surveillance shift after the end of the workday. Smoking and listening to the radio, he had no action until Big Dave Turcotte arrived shortly after seven.

Not a surprise. They already had talked to Dave. Had the description of his truck and the plate.

Without a tag in Paula’s house, Ted couldn’t hear conversations and he found it boring sitting down the road staring at the outside of the bungalow.

He butted out his smoke, scrolled through his list of contacts and called Travis.

“Hey, Ted. You at Paula’s place?”

“Yeah. I’m here. Big Dave just rolled in and I’m wishing for a tag in there, boss.”

“Go for it, if you get the opportunity, Ted.”

“Thanks, boss. Wouldn’t be such a waste of fuckin time if I could hear what they were saying about the murders.”

“Yeah. We should’ve had a tag in there by now. Harlan’s been inside a couple of times, and I should’ve been smart enough to have him do it. My bad.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been in a bad way with the Tammy thing, boss.”

“No excuses, Ted. I’m not at the top of my game and I’d better get there quick and find us a goddamned killer.”

“Copy that.” Ted reached over and groped around in the glove box of his truck for a tag.

Dry Run Roadhouse. Coyote Creek.

Travis figured he’d shouldn’t be doing it. Everything about it was wrong, but he called Tara Bunting’s number and asked her to meet him at the roadhouse.

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