Page 87 of The Girl in the River

BASS HEAD TRAIL

Chuck Lasso lived in a shack in the woods near Moon Docks. The narrow dirt road named Bass Head Trail drew fisherman onto the river. An old beige Chevy was parked in the drive and a hound dog lay basking on the porch. A shed to the right appeared to hold fishing gear, a cleaning station, and a woodwork table.

The place was isolated, off the beaten path, but they’d passed several other fishermen’s cabins after they’d turned off the main road.

Derrick parked, and Ellie bit back another groan as she stepped from his car. The scent of pine trees burst to life, the sun beaming down onto the patchy grass. Derrick held her elbow as they made their way up the graveled drive and for once she swallowed her pride and leaned on him.

The stairs creaked as they climbed them and she dodged a rotten spot on the landing. The dog’s snore rumbled, but at the sound of the squeak he lifted his head and opened one droopy eyelid. Derrick offered his hand for the dog to sniff, and a second later, the hound dropped his head back down and the snoring started all over again.

It took three knocks before the door opened. A scrawny guy wearing baggy jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt rubbed his hand over his eyes with a yawn. His ratty brown hair was sweaty and sticking in all directions.

“Chuck Lasso?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, why you wanna know?” He tugged a cigarette from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. Fingers that bore scars – from gutting fish or woodworking or… maybe prison?

He didn’t have the body of a fighter and had probably had a tough time in lock-up.

Derrick introduced them. “Can we come in? We need to talk.”

“Am I in trouble with the law or something?” he grumbled. “I keep up with my parole officer. If she says I don’t, that bitch is lying.”

“Areyou in trouble?” Ellie asked.

His face contorted as his defenses rose. “No, hell, no. I follow all the shitty rules they give me. Got a job and pay my rent.”

Gnats swarmed around Ellie’s face. “Let us step inside, sir. Please. It’s important.”

He muttered a foul word but waved them in and sauntered to a living room with furniture that looked as if it came from a junkyard. Either Ronnie wasn’t paying him very well or he was doing something else with his money.

He slumped onto a plaid sofa and Derrick and Ellie claimed seats in the two ladderback chairs, the only furniture in the room besides the fifty-inch smart TV. Apparently the man had priorities. “Mr. Lasso, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but your sister’s body was found.”

He pulled a lighter, flicked it and lit up. He shifted his eyes away for a second, took a drag and blew out the smoke. Ellie barely resisted coughing as the stagnant air clouded.

“Yeah, sheriff done talked to me.”

Why hadn’t Kincaid told them?

“Do you have any idea what happened to her?” Ellie asked.

“How would I know? I was locked up on some bogus charges when I was told she’d left town. Didn’t bother to visit or write me. I figured she just went off on some adventure.”

“Why would you say that?” Derrick asked.

“She was one of them dreamer types. A do-gooder too. Thought she’d make the world a better place.” He blew smoke rings in the air and for a moment, rubbed his eyes as if he was battling emotions. “I figured she decided she was better off not having a loser like me around.”

“Were you two close before you were incarcerated?” Ellie asked.

He shook his head. “Not really. Old man used to beat me, doted on her. Pretty little Patty could do no wrong. You know how it goes.” He coughed, obviously realizing he sounded bitter. “But she didn’t deserve what they did to her.”

“Do you have any idea who killed her or why she was murdered?” Ellie asked.

“Told you, I was locked up.”

“Why did you say the charges against you were bogus?” Derrick pressed.

Chuck tapped ashes into a Mountain Dew can. “Forget it. I did my time. Didn’t do no good to say anything back then. Won’t now either.”

Derrick frowned. “Do you think someone framed you?”

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