Lone Creek

57

Reuben and I caused quite a stir when we showed up at the courthouse a little after eight o'clock the next morning. Handcuffs practically flew onto my wrists. Besides the trouble I was in, the deputies didn't like what they saw. We both looked like shit anyway, and we'd gargled scotch and knuckled our eyes red to fake hangovers. Reuben added to the effect by lumbering around like a wounded bison, glaring and just itching for somebody to get in his way. Nobody did.

Gary Varna came out of his office right away and took us back in with him. He sat us down, unlocked my cuffs, then eyed us.

"If you think we were out having fun, think again," Reuben said belligerently.

"'Fun' ain't a word that comes to mind, Reuben. I'm just trying to get used to this. It's-unexpected, to say the least."

The room had a cell-like feel, with just one small window, and it was neat to the point of severity. Photos of Gary's family were the only personal touch-his pretty wife who was a nurse, his son who'd played football for Montana State, a daughter in pharmacy school, and another with two cute kids of her own. It gave me a twinge, a little stab that in his life, he'd done right all the things that I'd done wrong.

Reuben came out of his corner swinging. Some of it was a smoke screen, but not all. He'd made the point that if we wanted something from Gary, we'd better give him something, too.

"We've been figuring Wesley Balcomb and Kirk were in on something together," he said. "They were both coming up with money there was no accounting for."

Gary's slate blue eyes focused a click.

"Something like what?" he said.

"That we don't know. But we're thinking they crossed somebody and Kirk went on the run." Reuben paused, his gaze wavering, as if he recognized the other possibility but refused to allow it. "I want you to take a hard look at Balcomb, Gary. I've got some financial information I can give you, and Hugh found out some things."

"Well, now, ain't that interesting." Gary leaned forward and clasped his hands on his desk. "We just got a call from your ranch-excuse me, ex-ranch. Seems Balcomb's gone missing, too."

We did our best to look blearily shocked.

"He didn't show up for an appointment this morning," Gary said. "The video camera on his security gate shows him driving out about one AM. But he left his vehicle there, and nobody knows where he went."

Reuben slapped his palm down emphatically on the desk.

"You can't tell me that's just coincidence," he said. "Both of them taking off for no reason, in the middle of the night. I'd say that gives our notion some pretty good clout."

Gary glanced at me. "I guess if it was true, you'd be off the hook."

I wasn't sure how barbed that was-somewhat, without doubt. I kept my mouth shut.

He settled back again, gazing past us, tapping one forefinger on the arm of his chair. Then he checked his watch.

"I'll be glad for whatever information you fellas have, and believe me, I'll start digging," he said. "Right now, it's going to look bad if I don't put in a personal appearance at the ranch for an eminent citizen like Mr. Balcomb. Hugh, I need to know where you've been. We can talk quick and informal, same as last time. You can wait for a lawyer if you'd rather."

I could wait for a lawyer, sure-in a little cell down at the end of that long jailhouse hallway.

My much better bet was that one of the most influential men in the state was sitting beside me, in my support, which in itself made clear his belief that I didn't have anything to do with his son's disappearance. He was also vouching for my whereabouts when Balcomb went missing. I'd spent the last hours preparing my story according to his advice-including not to say one more word than necessary, and to let him handle the rest.

"I stopped by Reuben's yesterday evening," I told Gary. "I wanted to tell him in person I didn't know anything about Kirk, but I'd found out some stuff that might interest him. He had a bottle of good scotch going and invited me into it. We started talking and putting things together. Then it was dawn."

Reuben nodded gruffly in affirmation. Barring disaster, that much was solid. It would take a hell of a lot to start anybody doubting Reuben Pettyjohn.

"All right," Gary said. He picked up a sheaf of notes off his desk and paged through them. "The last we know of you before that was, let's see, just about forty-eight hours earlier. We got a call from Josie Young, saying you'd been to her place."

So it was that little bitch who'd ratted me out.

"After you came to see me, I knew I was under the gun, so I tried to play detective," I said sheepishly.

"You ever do it for a living, that'll cure you." He kept watching me expectantly.

This part of the story was going to be a lot tougher to float than the last one. "Try to make it just unlikely enough so he might believe it," Reuben had said. Oddly enough, I'd remembered something Laurie had told me that seemed to fit-that when her fear of her husband had erupted and she'd tried to flee, she'd gone to a place where she'd felt safe as a child.

"I kind of went on a retreat, Gary," I said. "You know, like in grade school?"

His head tilted skeptically to the side. But then he gave me a cautious nod. Gary was a steady Catholic, and I was doing my shameless best to play on that.

"I seem to remember you were maybe going to be a priest," he said.

"I was maybe going to be a lot of things, and I fucked them up." I spoke too sharply, and I saw that both men were taken aback. I hunched over and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm wrapped tight as hell and wiped out, both. And I've got something that's hard to admit. I saw you at my place Sunday night."

Gary's eyebrows rose.

"I was on my motorcycle," I said. "I rode it to sneak onto the ranch and talk to Doug, the foreman. Then I went to Josie's. On my way home, a tow truck passed me. I followed it to my place. You were waiting there." I paused and exhaled. "I freaked out. All I could think was that Balcomb had found some new way to hammer me, and it was really serious this time."

There was a longish silence. Reuben cleared his throat. Gary's finger started tapping again.

"So you took off on a retreat," he said. "A church here in town?"

"I dumped the bike and hiked on up into the Belts. That's what I used to do when I was a kid and I got bummed. I had this whole deal laid out-tree stumps that were stations of the cross, a nook in the rocks that was a confessional. Like that."

"Huh. Well, I wouldn't want to go violating a sacrament, but can you give me a hint what you confessed to?"

"Stealing that lumber-although I still have a mental reservation that I salvaged it, and Balcomb was just being a prick," I said. "Acting like a pissed-off kid and burning it, there's no excuse for that. Running from you instead of facing up. Some other things like that."

He shook his head ruefully. "I wish my conscience was that light. Hell, if I was on the other side of the screen, I'd let you off with an Our Father and a couple Hail Marys."

"There's more, but it's hard to explain," I said. "My life's been crashing, getting out of control. I was trying to figure out how it happened and what to do about it." I shrugged. "I didn't, but I came away feeling a little better."

"Well, I wouldn't call that exactly an ironclad alibi," Gary said. "You were up there the whole two days, huh?"

"I came back next afternoon."

"How'd you manage? You know, eating and sleeping."

"I keep my camping gear in that garage back of my cabin. I sneaked in and threw some stuff in a pack while you guys were busy with my truck."

He grimaced. "My boys ain't going to be happy to hear that."

"If it helps any, tell them it was because they scared the shit out of me."

"I don't suppose anybody else saw you."

"I didn't want anybody to see me. That was kind of the point. I know that country pretty good, and there's hardly anybody around there anyway."

"That might not have been real smart," he said.

"I wasn't trying to be smart. Not like that, anyway."

Reuben had stayed silent, and seemed not to be paying attention. But he broke in suddenly.

"Now, Gary, how important is this?" he said. "Nothing happened during that time. Kirk was gone already and Balcomb not yet."

"That's true, Reuben. But they still are missing, and Hugh's right in the middle of the squall."

I'd seen many confrontations between men, sometimes open and even violent, more often couched in the underhanded courtesy of the professional world. This was a silent showdown between two aging bulls who'd known each other all their lives, weighing the many factors that hovered between them-power, indebtedness, loyalty, and that unwritten code they'd grown up with.

Gary couldn't control the investigation completely, but he could do a lot to steer it. This was potentially big, and his reputation was on the line. His safest course would be to keep the pressure on me. But Reuben was ready to fight.

Maybe Gary guessed that the reason had something to do with Celia.

He looked at his watch again and stood up.

"OK, Hugh," he said. "I ain't saying this is over, but I don't see enough reason to hold you now."

I sagged and mumbled thanks. Reuben gave me a curt, congratulatory backslap.

"I'll talk to Judge Harris and get him to drop everything," Gary said. "I found out why he set your bail so high, by the way. Balcomb told him you'd been screwing one of the ranch wives, and that was the real reason he wanted to give you a hard time."

I shook my head in disbelief at Balcomb's bottomless bag of tricks. He must have known that the judge was an old-school gentleman who enjoyed his liquor and gambling, but was notoriously straitlaced about sex.

"That's the first goddamn thing I've been accused of I wish was true," I said. Reuben grunted appreciatively and Gary's lips curved in a slight smile.

But then the irony hit me, verging on the eerie, that I had been dallying with one of the ranch wives. Balcomb's.

"Stop at the desk and sign for the stuff we took from your place," Gary said. "Everything checked out clean. I'll get your truck brought around."

I caught myself just before I closed my eyes in relief.

Reuben and I followed Gary out to the main office, where he issued brief instructions and got my paperwork started.

"I'm going to mosey on home and get some sleep," Reuben said quietly. "Keep in mind what the man said-it's a long ways from over."

I knew he wasn't just talking about the investigation, but about what we'd revealed to each other last night. From then until now, we'd been carried by adrenaline, common interest, and his shrewd toughness. But that was going to give way to the ugly truths we'd both learned, and rationality and emotion would go to war. Whatever truce we might end up with would be uneasy at best.

We had evened out our long-standing grievance, but it was a devil's bargain.

I thanked him for his support, assuring him I'd stay in touch. We shook hands, and he left.

I signed the release papers for my possessions-besides the truck, a plastic bag with a computer-labeled tag containing the dirty clothes and spare boots I'd planted, which the sheriffs had also taken and checked out.

I stepped through the courthouse doors into the outside world, carrying the bag over my shoulder like a homeless man-but free once again to legally walk the streets. The deputy with the withered arm who'd first brought me in was standing in the background, watching. He didn't look happy to see me go.