CHAPTER 32

Doc Little was a wee scrap of a man, just over five and a half feet with his toupee. He arrived in Defiance more than twenty years ago from Chicago, but was tight-lipped about his past. He soon became the largest landholder in Garfield County--four times that of runner up, Maynard Johnston. He had a white stubbled face, tooled around town in a ’34 cream-colored Duesenberg, and possessed nothing that demanded feeding--wives included. Refused Social Security, it being socialistic. He always said eight to ten thousand a year of honest income was enough, but never let on how he got so rich.

The doc sat perched on a stool and dabbed Bucky’s forehead with a damp cloth. “I’ve got a bad feeling,” he said wearily.

I’ve got that and a bad back, Alsop thought, standing in the corner by a picture of the human digestive system. “The mayor’s televised defense may assuage our nation, but not the Caddo people. They saw what happened.”

“We may need the national guard,” the doc said. “I hope the governor realizes that.”

Bucky’s gaze flicked to Alsop. “A Caddo guy in the jail said Chief Harman will get tied to a stake and eaten by ants.”

“Hold still,” Doc said.

“The Caddo people have gone home,” Alsop said, pressing a hand to his back and arching it. “At least for now.”

“I saw the governor talking to Bart,” Bucky continued. His eyes shifted up to Doc’s spiky white whiskers. “That’s the guy who ran off with the car.”

The doc glanced at Alsop. “The one with the blueprints showing the racetrack in Garfield County?”

“That’s right.” Alsop made his way toward a straight back chair in the corner. “When was this, Bucky?”

“Just before all hell broke loose. Then Bart, Willow, and the governor ducked into the courthouse together. Ouch. That stings.”

“It’s iodine. Won’t kill you,” Doc said. “What do we know about these jokers?”

“Bart and Willow?” Alsop eased into the chair. “Nothing. But we need to find out what those blueprints mean. If Johnston’s connected with them, they’ll mean trouble.”

“Willow has a gun,” Bucky said. “Kindra saw it on a table in her motel room. She also had short brown hair. I’ve only seen her with long blonde hair.”

Doc pursed his lips. “Blueprints, guns, disguises. And now the governor.” He slapped a Band-Aid on Bucky’s forehead. “I don’t like it.”

“The governor wasn’t going to come,” Alsop said. “Something changed his mind, and I’d like to know what.” He stood slowly. “If you’re done with your patient, we’ll run along. I was going to take the missus out for a steak dinner, but it looks like instead I’ll be watching our mayor on TV either hang himself--and us--or pull a Nixonesque Checkers speech. Let’s hope the mayor’s lucky spurs hold out.”

***

Huddled against a cold breeze, Bucky and Alsop hurried across the dirt drive to the big Chrysler. A thin blade of moon hung low in the western sky, and the long cloudy Milky Way trailed overhead.

Gliding across the bumpy gravel road toward Johnston’s boardinghouse, Bucky made two mental notes. One, to take Kindra out for a steak dinner for her birthday, and second, remember to talk up the car’s smooth ride to potential buyers. He turned to Alsop. “Before Chief Parker was killed, he told me he knew who cut Will and Miss Iris’s brake line. I wonder if he told Harman. I’d ask him, but I know he wouldn’t tell me. Maybe you could talk to him.”

“Good idea. I’ll do that.” Alsop turned onto Bucky’s street. “How many photos did you take?”

“Over a hundred.”

“Did you get a picture of the Indian with the hand grenade?”

“Several, why?”

“He planted the bomb in the oak tree. My identification will prove he had intended to kill. Considering that and the grenade, we should have a strong enough case to--”

“But the grenade was inert.”

“The bomb wasn’t. Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m not condoning the actions of Harman and Chief Trigger. They acted irresponsibly right down the line, and Trigger was rightfully forced to retire. But we can’t afford to let Defiance’s reputation get further tarnished by two idiots. Especially now that we have a shot at getting the racetrack and possibly hosting the County Fair.”

Bucky’s face grew hot. “I get it. Sweep it under the rug.” He hated that everybody seemed so indifferent to the Caddo killings. Even Alsop. When and if Bucky got into office, he’d do things differently.

Alsop pulled up to Bucky’s building. “You live in the back, right?”

“That’s okay, here’s fine.” Bucky wanted to get away before he said something he’d regret.

“You’ve got integrity, Bucky. It’s an admirable quality, but in politics you’ve got to make judgments. Nourishment for one fella may be poison for another.”

“Right.” Bucky reached for the door.

Alsop held his arm. “Don’t forget to bring the pictures tomorrow. First thing.”