Ron said, “Quit thinking of her as a real person. That wasn’t Tiffany we rolled into that spring. Tiffany is gone. Once a person is dead all that’s left is bones and meat just like any animal. Think of it that way. Plus, people like her aren’t like us. They’re losers. They wouldn’t even exist if the world weren’t so cushy.
“If it wasn’t me it would be somebody else. Or she’d have done it to herself with drugs or alcohol. We actually did her a favor.”
Kyle didn’t react.
As they drove through Gardiner, Ron sighed and said, “We need to get a new one with even bigger hips so we don’t have to worry about her trying to crawl out a window. But not you, Kyle. You’re obviously not ready yet. Maybe down the road but not now.
“I’m going to take you back to the cabin and fix that window. You and Amanda will be on your own tonight.”
Ron paused as he drove past a small lighted football field next to the school where a high school game was in progress. The Gardiner Tigers were playing. He could see teams on the field, knots of students in the stands, cheerleaders on the sidelines, and dozens of parked vehicles in the lot outside the stands.
“Because I’m going hunting.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
BEFORE DAWN THE NEXT MORNING Cassie heard movement and heavy sounds outside the Tomahawk Motel. She slipped out of the bed and walked to the window with bare feet and parted the curtains.
Under the blue glow of a pole light, Bull Mitchell led his horses one by one from where they’d been picketed in the field behind the motel the night before into his horse trailer. He looked fit and purposeful as he did it, and she noticed he wore a holster with a long revolver on his hip. His breath condensed in the freezing air and haloed around his head.
She thought: He’s in his element. This is what he did for decades—rose long before the sun came up or his clients arose to break camp. He was doing what he was meant to do and she’d provided the conduit.
She prayed Bull would return to Bozeman and Rachel as healthy and safe when the expedition was over as he appeared at that moment. If he didn’t, Rachel would never forgive Cassie and she wouldn’t blame her one bit.
Cassie let the curtains close and stepped away to make coffee in the small plastic brewer in the room. She’d barely slept herself; prey to a combination of a worn-out bed, a room that smelled of Lysol, and nerves. Instead, she’d removed the tags off her newly purchased outdoor clothing and cleaned and oiled her Glock.
She started to write a letter to Ben to tell him how much she loved him in case something happened in the mountains and she didn’t return. But she couldn’t put what she wanted to say into words and the very act of writing the letter felt like creating a self-fulfilling prophesy. So she abandoned the effort.
At one point during the night she’d considered not going into the mountains herself. Bull knew where he was going and Sheriff Pederson and his “horse-savvy” deputies could likely handle any situation they came across.
But she’d talked herself out of it. She owed it to Lottie, to Ralph Johnson, to Raheem, and to Kyle to see it through. It was because of her the expedition was coming together.
Cassie had lived with the Lizard King in the back of her brain for years. So long that he’d become almost a part of her being.
She wanted to be rid of him forever.
*
SHERIFF PEDERSON AND HIS TWO deputies pulled into the motel parking lot at seven-thirty that morning. The deputies drove a pickup with a horse trailer behind it and Pederson arrived in his SUV.
Cassie emerged from her room as the sheriff began introductions all around.
“This is Cassie Dewell,” he began. “She used to be with the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department and was most recently Chief Investigator for Bakken County in North Dakota.”
“Pleased to see you again,” Mike Pompy said, removing his hat with his left hand and extending his right. His eyes lingered on her after they shook hands. It took a moment for her to recall that he’d been at Paradise Valley when they were digging up Cody Hoyt’s body.
“You worked with Cody Hoyt,” Jim Thomsen said with a sly smile. “Anybody who worked with that guy has to be tough.”
Mike Pompy was in his early forties, short-legged with a barrel chest and a calm disposition. Thomsen was rangy with a cropped ginger beard and light blue eyes. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he talked. He was ready to go. Both were dressed in jeans and wore cowboy boots and tactical vests. Pompy had a semiautomatic holstered under his left arm and Thomsen wore his sidearm on his hip. Combat shotguns and AR-15s with extended tube magazines were clustered muzzle-down between the front seats of the pickup.
“And this is Bull Mitchell,” Pederson said, stepping back.
Bull leaned against the front bumper of his Power Wagon with his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked over both deputies as if he were looking for good colts at a horse sale.
“Bull will be leading the expedition,” Pederson told his men. “He’s got a lot of experience in these mountains and he knows this country like nobody else. When it comes to the ride in, listen to him. If we get into a law enforcement situation, listen to me. Got that?”
Pompy and Thomsen nodded in agreement.
“Okay,” Pederson said, “when can we get going?”
Bull said, “Twenty minutes. I just talked to Dub and my truck is almost ready.”
Cassie was pleased.
“First, let’s do an inventory on the gear you all brought,” Bull said. “We’re going to be traveling light with only one animal other than the horses you’re riding. Meaning I don’t want to take four of anything except weapons. No more than twenty pounds per man of clothing, gear, and all that electronic bullshit you people think is essential.”
“Twenty pounds?” Thomsen said.
“Not unless you brought your own packhorse. So start going through your duffel bags, boys, and throwing stuff out.”
Pompy and Thomsen looked to Pederson for backup but didn’t get it. Thomsen sighed as he turned for his bag to start winnowing out weight.
Bull carefully oversaw the deputies as they consolidated their belongings.
“How many GPS machines and satellite phones do you people need?” Bull barked. “One will do.”
Pompy and Thomsen exchanged looks again. Bull, they conceded, had a point.
“The heavier we ride the slower we go,” Bull said. “I remember one time…”
And the stories began, Cassie thought. Testosterone hung in the air like wood smoke, she thought. In a matter of minutes the two deputies and Bull were exchanging experiences on horseback in the mountains. All three were obviously excited to mount up. She wished she could share in the unbridled anticipation but there was a knot in her stomach and she felt a little sick from the metallic motel room coffee.
“I’m going to delay us a little longer than twenty minutes,” Pederson said to Bull. “We got a call last night that I need to follow up.”
“What kind of call?” Cassie asked.
“High school girl. She said a ‘creepy guy’ tried to pick her up last night after the game.”
Cassie felt a chill run down the back of her spine.
“Did she get a good look at him?”