Page 72 of River Ride

“We don’t fish or hunt. Our land is posted.”

“Right. You’re against hunting and you kill hunters and steal their meat. You’ve killed two of them so far, that we know of. That will be brought up at your trial, I’m sure.”

“None of what you say will matter when I go to trial. The DA has no proof and the case against me will be dismissed.”

Billy cursed all the way back to the truck and only stopped when Ted’s cell rang.

“It’s Travis.” He listened and then said, “Got it, boss. As soon as Billy gets me back to the station, I’ll pick up the tow truck and meet you at the river.”

“Did Travis find Kody’s truck?”

Ted nodded. “And the dogs found his hat. We’ve got ourselves a crime scene, boss.”

“I’m glad to hear we’ve got something, Ted. I’m not sure we’re going to get Jed Carpenter.”

We sat in the squad and waited for Ted to come with the tow truck. Took him nearly an hour and Virge and I were getting hungry.

Took us another half hour to push that mother out to the road so Ted could hook onto it. It was hotter than hell and we were filthy dirty and sweating like pigs by the time we were done.

All we had were bottles of water that Travis always kept in thesquads for emergencies. This was one.

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek. Montana.

We got back to town and Travis sent us across the street to get burgers and fries for all of us. The boss from Fish and Wildlife was on his way to the station to talk to Travis and he didn’t have time to go to the diner with us.

When we came back with the food, Warden Ibbitson was already there talking to Dad in the squad room.

“The autopsy isn’t complete,” said Travis. “Doctor Olsen will call as soon as he has filed the report. That’s when you’ll be able to access it.”

“I’m sure Kody didn’t drown,” said Ibbitson. “All of our wardens are in good physical condition, and they are excellent swimmers. It’s one of the qualifications.”

Travis was sure Kody didn’t drown either, but he didn’t tell the big boss that.

“Ted towed Kody’s truck in, sir. You can have a look at it out back in the parking lot, but you can’t touch it or have it back until it’s been fingerprinted.”

“I understand, Sheriff. Could you have it towed back to my office when you’re finished with it?”

“Sure. Happy to do that, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Birmingham. Alabama.

Bobby stopped for dinner at the same place he and Ray ate at on their way to West Virginia. Feeling a little nostalgic and a lot sad for his friend, he wondered if he could play Ray’s guitar.

It’s still in the case in the back of the Wrangler.

“I might try it when I’m sitting on the porch of the cabin. That’s where Ray wrote the song about living on the down-low. I loved that song.”

Lost in his thoughts, Bobby barely noticed the waitress flirting with him. He trigged in after she tried harder but all he could think about was his dead wife Emma, and how it felt being married to a cheater. And Tammy, picking up a hitchhiker and having her do her damndest to kill you. Women were fuckin dangerous.

Mobile. Alabama.

The pain in Tammy’s leg was driving her insane and she couldn’t drive any farther. She’d been out of pain pills all day and she needed strong drugs desperately.

Thinking she could find drug slingers in a park, she cruised through Mobile until she saw a large green space. She pulled into the parking area, sat for a few minutes to get her breath, then got out of the Freightliner and limped into the park.

On a bench under a huge tree, she spotted a ganger wearing a leather vest. Paper bag beside him on the bench and his phone to his ear.

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