“Not comfortable chairs,” he said. He had dark eyes and a pockmarked face. He brandished the violation slips in the air. “I’m waiting for my sister to show up with cash from the ATM. They only take cash. Who takes just cash anymore?”
“I don’t know,” Cassie said. It felt strange to be on the other side of the Plexiglas and the steel door.
“About time they entered the twenty-first century and took credit cards,” the man said.
Cassie used the wait time to text Leslie to report that they’d been held up for the day. She also sent a text to Ben telling him that she loved him and that she’d be home as soon as she could.
*
WHAT CASSIE RECALLED about Sheriff Pederson was how kind he’d been to her in the immediate aftermath of the shoot-out. Rather than question her story or motives like the agents from DCI had, or insert himself into the situation in order to take credit for the outcome like her own boss had done, Pederson had gently guided her through her statement. He knew what she was feeling, he’d assured her.
He’d said, No matter how tough you are or how justified the circumstances, it’s devastating to take another person’s life.
And when they discovered Cody Hoyt’s body buried in that field by the Lizard King and the dirty state trooper, Pederson had held her and let her cry. He’d said very little at the time, but the gesture still meant something to her.
Oddly, though, she couldn’t remember his face other than it was attractive in a raw-boned, cowboy kind of way. He had a thick mustache. She remembered he was tall and thin and he wore a wedding band. She distinctly remembered that wedding band.
*
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Cassie saw him stick his head into the receptionist office from a door in the back and mouth, I’m back. Then his eyes drifted up and slid off the Indian and found hers. He smiled and mouthed, I’ll be damned.
A few seconds later he opened the steel door.
“Cassie—I thought it was you.”
“It’s me. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Let’s go get a cup of coffee,” he said while holding the door open.
When the man got up as well Pederson said, “Not you, Norman. You stay here until you pay your fines.”
The man sat down with a sigh.
*
IN THE SMALL DOWNTOWN DINER across the alley from the sheriff’s department she realized he no longer wore the ring. She tried not to stare.
For the last hour she’d brought Bryan Pederson up to speed regarding the Lizard King and his possible kidnap victim. Pederson was vaguely aware of the formation of the joint task force Leslie Behaunek had created because he’d read a memo about it from DCI just that morning.
“If he’s up there no one has reported anything unusual,” Pederson said.
“That isn’t surprising,” she said. “The Lizard King is supposed to be dead so nobody is looking for him. Plus, we know that he changed his appearance. I doubt anyone who knew Ronald Pergram back then would even recognize him now.”
Pederson nodded. He had more gray in his mustache and temples than she recalled. He’d also lost weight. He looked borderline cadaverous, she thought. She wondered if he’d been sick.
“I can’t believe Bull Mitchell himself is taking you up there,” Pederson said. “He’s a legend around here. Everybody has a story about him. Did you ever hear about the time he took a chain saw and cut a truck in half to settle up with a former business partner? Or about the time a grizzly bear chased him up a tree but the branches broke and Bull fell down on top of the bear and scared him off?”
“No, but now I have one,” she said. “About the time we were going into Yellowstone and made it as far as Livingston before his truck broke down.”
Pederson smiled at that.
“He’s going to meet us here, right?” he asked.
She shrugged. “That’s what he said when I called him but his hearing is … selective. He said something about going to picket the horses behind the motel and make his way over here. So he’ll be here any minute, I’d guess.”
“I want to go with you tomorrow.”
She nodded that she’d heard him.
“I’ve got horses of my own. I’m going to ask Bull if I can bring a couple of deputies along with us.”
“It’s your county,” she said, “but it’s his expedition. You know how he can be.”
“It’ll help if you’re in favor of the idea,” he said.
“My opinion means very little to him.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Pederson asked, raising his eyebrows. “He dusted off all his old outfitter gear and fired up that relic of a truck. He loaded his horses up and here he is. I don’t think he’d do that if your opinion meant nothing.”
“You’re right. I need to cut him some slack. It’s just that when I think about Kyle I get anxious. If he’s actually up there with Pergram every minute counts.”
“I understand,” Pederson said. “But you’re dealing with vehicles, horses, and a mountain search and rescue operation. Time isn’t the same up there as it is here in the big city. Everything slows down the closer you get to Yellowstone.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry to ask you this but will involving you and your guys slow us down even more?”
“A little. But my guys will be gung ho to go. The tourist season is over and there isn’t a lot going on right now. The opportunity to get Pergram is something no one in law enforcement around here could pass up.
“Besides,” Pederson said, “if the Lizard King really is up there somewhere you can use more firepower. We don’t want him getting away from us again.”
“Thank you for saying ‘us’ and not ‘me.’”
“I’ll let my office know I won’t be there tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight I’ll call two of my horse-savvy guys. They’ll jump at the chance to come along, believe me. And I’ll compare notes with Bull to coordinate everything. I’ll let him call the shots.”
She didn’t want to ask him about his missing ring. But he didn’t seem like the kind of man who would say anything about it unless prompted.
Before she could think of a way to bring it up, the door opened and its frame was filled with Bull Mitchell.
“Can a man get a beer around here?” he boomed.
*
BULL WAS ON HIS fifth Coors Original and Pederson his third when Cassie’s phone lit up.
She looked at the screen, then at Bull. “It’s Rachel.”
“Don’t answer,” Bull said. “She’ll try to talk you into going back. Besides, she doesn’t know where we are—whether we’re in cell phone range or not.”
“I don’t feel very good about that,” Cassie said as the call transferred to her voice mail.
“It’s for her own good,” Bull said with finality.
He turned to Pederson. “Do you know why they call me Bull?”
“No.”
“Cause he’s hung like one,” Cassie said.
“You’ve heard!” Bull laughed, slapping the table with his big hands.
“Cody said you’d explained it to him,” she confessed.
*
THEY AGREED TO ALL MEET in the parking lot of the Tomahawk Motel the next morning as soon as Pederson’s men had caught their horses, loaded them into trailers, and geared up.
By then, Cassie hoped, Bull’s truck would be ready to get back on the road.