“What was that?” Donna asked.
“Possible eye witness who saw Calloway pull over for a drifter with long, brown hair.”
“Fuck yes,” Hal hissed enthusiastically.
“The sketch sucks, but the minute Larry comes back with it and scans it so we got a decent copy of it, I want it out on the wire. We might be able to sharpen up some of the rough edges soon, this witness comes forward. Pray for that,” Hix told them.
“We’ll be all over that,” Donna returned.
“Need you two on the line with homeless shelters in Omaha, Lincoln, bigger cities. I’ll email the description. We have hair, face, now clothes. And he was carrying a big duffle. Convenience store guy said our guy could be anywhere between forty and sixty. I get now why he gave that range, seein’ as Gemini’s witness says he was leathery, haggard. Wanna know if any shelters have any regulars who went walkabout and haven’t been seen in a while.”
“All over that too,” Hal stated and walked out.
“We gonna get him?” Donna asked.
“He’s had days to get away and the wheels to do it and only got a couple hundred miles. Convenience clerk says he’s twitchy. Witness says he was a man she wouldn’t stop for, but at the time she saw Calloway do it, she was glad God made a man who would. Even so, somehow the man had a gun and the cognizance to wipe down that truck. Regardless, I figure we got someone who’s not firing on all cylinders in a way it’s more than he’d put two bullets in a man. That could work in our favor. That could screw us totally.”
She nodded. “I’ll get on those shelters.”
Hix nodded back, rounded his desk and got instantly pissed.
And he did that because his first thought was that they were closing in on him, so Hix was in a much better place than he was yesterday or the day before and definitely the day before that.
And he couldn’t share it with Greta.
“You know how they’re gonna play this, Bryce.”
It was late afternoon and he had Bryce McCall and his two parents in his office, Bryce in one chair, his mother in the other, his dad standing behind his son’s chair.
They’d brought him in.
“It was stupid, I know,” the fourteen-year-old mumbled. “Mom and Dad already laid into me.”
“I’m sure they did,” Hix said. “And most folk would listen to reason. The Mortimers won’t.”
Bryce ducked his head, scooted a foot on the floor and muttered under his breath, “She shot my dog.”
“She did.”
Bryce lifted his gaze to Hix’s.
Hix held it and carried on.
“So, in light of the fact that I think this town has been reminded in an ugly way about what’s important, if you write a letter apologizing to them, I’ll take it out to them and then share I won’t be taking this further. If you apologize, I’m satisfied you saw the error of your ways and feel remorse. This is not to say I condone what you did or vandalism in any form, Bryce,” he warned, waited for the kid’s nod then kept going. “However, considering the extremity of the extenuating circumstances, although your response was not right or even justified, it was understandable.”
“Yeah,” the kid whispered. “And I’m, like, totally grounded so I’m already kinda in jail.”
Hix bit back a smile and continued, “They can, of course, push it. That’s their prerogative. But they’ll have to do it in civil court. I won’t be pushing anything. If they have an issue with that, they can vote for my opponent in the next election.”
Bryce grinned. “Too bad I won’t be old enough to vote then.”
“Yeah, kid. Too bad,” Hix murmured.
The door opened and Larry swung his upper body in, hand on the handle.
“Sorry, Sheriff . . . folks, wouldn’t interrupt but gotta say,” his gaze leveled on Hix, “Kavanagh Becker is here to see you.”
Hix turned his head to look out the window and he saw Becker and one of his goons studying the mural of the sheriff shield painted over a depiction of Nebraska pastureland at the side of reception.
Hix felt his lips thin and he lifted his chin to Larry. “Thanks, Larry.”
“Not a problem.” Larry’s gaze went through the room, he murmured, “Again, sorry,” and backed out of the door, closing it behind him.
“I think we’re done anyway,” Hix said, rising and moving around his desk.
He shook Bryce’s hand. He had to hold firm and lock arms to share he couldn’t accept the hug his beaming mother seemed intent on giving him when he shook hers. And he felt his shoulder nearly get dislocated when Bryce’s father pumped his arm then knew he’d have a bruise after the man clapped him on the back.
He walked them to the door then he looked through the windows and gave Larry the high sign.
He was only five feet in and facing the door, arms crossed on his chest, when Becker came through.
“You don’t have to close the door, Larry, he’s not staying long,” he said to his deputy.
“Right, boss,” Larry replied and disappeared.
“You have one minute,” Hix told Becker, who’d stopped only a few steps in because that was as far as he could get or was welcome.
“It would seem, perhaps, things didn’t go as I’d intended during your visit yesterday.”
When he stopped talking, Hix prompted, “You have fifty seconds.”
“Drake,” Becker bit off.
“Forty-five seconds.”
“It was just a joke,” Becker shared. “Tawnee and her daughter play it that way. Getting one up on each other. She wasn’t actually threatening you. But she does worry about her daughter. Apparently Greta’s last man ended things with her in a way Tawnee didn’t like. It might not be the usual way a mother would deal with her daughter finding another man and sharing her concerns with that new man that she was keeping her eye on shit, but Tawnee’s not your usual woman.”
Hix felt something unpleasant slither through his gut at learning Greta’s last man ended things in a way a woman like Tawnee Dare wouldn’t like, but he wasn’t going to discuss that with Kavanagh Becker.
“Greta and her mother close?” Hix asked.
“They’re mother and daughter.”
“That’s not really an answer,” Hix pointed out. “You met Greta?”
Becker stared him in the eyes. “No. Seen her. Got the best of her momma. You probably get me, if she gave more talent than just looks to her girl. Learned a long time ago, you can tag the pretty, young ones, but you also gotta expend the effort to train ’em, seein’ as they got no earthly clue how to use their mouths.”
Hix’s stomach turned.
“Okay, we’re done,” Hix declared, moving toward him to show him out.
“Drake, you don’t want this deal we got to fall apart,” Becker warned.
And there was the reason for the visit.
Hix stopped and asked, “I don’t?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Becker snapped.
“Not me who hauled the sheriff’s ass all the way out to his place just to play a joke. I’m investigating a murder, Kavanagh, but even if I wasn’t, I would hope you’d treat my time as more valuable than that.”
Becker tried a winning smile. “You know how it is, first blush of finding a woman who gives a really great blowjob.”