Deanna and Cooley were huddled around the desk, hard at work on the Jenga tower. Cooley looked up when Thumps and Cruz came into the office. Deanna kept her attention on the game.
“Hey, boss, you found him. You want me to slap the cuffs on?”
“Quiet,” said Deanna. “Need to concentrate.”
“What the hell is that?” said Cruz.
“Jenga,” said Cooley. “You never played Jenga?”
“Wood blocks? Sure, when I was four.”
“You guys are going to make me lose.” Deanna took a step to one side, stared at the tower from a different angle.
“Okay, so how’s it work?”
“You stack the wood pieces into a tower,” said Cooley, “and then you pull pieces out until the tower falls over.”
“That’s it?”
“You want bright lights and bells and people getting all excited over seeing three cherries pop up,” said Deanna, “go to Buffalo Mountain. This is a game of skill.”
Deanna gently pulled a block out of the centre. The tower wobbled and slowly toppled over.
“Shit.”
“That’s two games to two,” said Cooley. “Next one decides the champion.”
Cruz shook his head. “What’s the winner get?”
“Winner doesn’t have to drink any of Duke’s coffee,” said Deanna.
Thumps patted Cruz on the shoulder. “Why don’t I tell you about your new accommodations.”
“Don’t even think of sticking me in the Wagon Wheel,” said Cruz. “That woman scares the hell out of me.”
Thumps guided Cruz to the back room. “Got you something cozy with a central location.”
Thumps had to admit that the holding cell did look inviting. Easy chair, flat-screen, poster of an Indian on a bicycle on the wall.
“Only thing it hasn’t got is a vibrating bed.”
“This is a cell.”
“Think of it as a short-term rental.”
“With bars.” Cruz stopped at the door. “I’m not sleeping here.”
“If I arrest you, you will.”
“You arrest me and you won’t be able to find Gage.”
“You lost Gage,” said Thumps. “Let’s compromise. I don’t arrest you, and you stay here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
Deanna had restacked the Jenga tower. Cruz stopped and watched as Cooley slid a block out of the centre of the structure.
Cruz turned to Thumps. “This is your idea of tax dollars in action?”
Deanna pursed her lips. “I thought you were going to arrest him.”
“If I arrest him,” said Thumps, “city has to feed him.”
“And we need the holding cell,” said Cooley. “I got graveyard, so Scoop is going to be staying over.”
“Used to have a nice quilt on the bed,” said Deanna. “Until poochy seconded it for an ass wipe.”
“Going to have to put it through one of those commercial washers a couple of times,” said Cooley. “Get the smell out.”
Cruz held up a hand. “How about someone gives me a ride back to my car?”
“Where’s your car?”
“Shadow Ranch.”
“I can run you up,” said Cooley. “Give me a chance to check on Team Wutty.”
Cruz rubbed the back of his head. “I’d ask what a Team Wutty was, but I don’t think I want to know.”
THUMPS SPENT THE REST of the day dealing with the management of the office. He had forgotten just how boring police work could be. Thumps went through the messages once more.
“No message from Moses?”
Deanna was packing the basket with coffee. “Moses Blood?”
“Yeah,” said Thumps. “Sometimes there’s a problem with someone breaking into one of the trailers.”
“You just want to get out of the office.”
“Should check in on the old man.”
“Scoop’s doing that,” said Deanna. “Remember, her and Cooley are living out there now.”
“Maybe I’ll catch some speeders,” said Thumps. “Could use the practice.”
Deanna banged the percolator on the table. “Sure,” she said, “run off, have a good time, leave me with the grunt work.”
“Or you could see it as a chance to practise being in charge, being the big chief.”
Deanna smiled. “Chief Heavy Runner. It does have a nice ring. Maybe I’ll run out to the reservation and arrest Roxanne. For practice. Tell her it was your idea.”
Thumps blanched. “Please don’t do that.”
Deanna came back to the Jenga tower. “You see Scoop, tell her if she expects to use the holding cell tonight that she better bring an extra helping of that stew with her.”
AS SOON AS Thumps hit the city limits and was on the open road, he felt his body begin to relax. Dead private investigators, kidnapped mystery women, ninja assassins, back-from-the-grave Romanian mathematicians, nefarious corporate executives, Jenga towers, and large slobbery dogs all disappeared in the rear-view mirror.
There was a moment, as he got to the turnoff for Moses Blood’s place, when he thought about keeping to the main road and heading to Canada. Nothing to stop him from calling Duke and giving the sheriff notice.
He could put the badge and the office cellphone in the mail.
All things considered, he could probably be more help in Calgary, looking after Claire and Ivory.
But Claire had been clear. She wanted to do whatever needed to be done on her own, and she hadn’t left any room for interpretation. If Thumps was being honest with himself, he’d have to admit that she had hurt his feelings.
And not for the first time.
There was a certain bluntness to Claire. Bright skies and mountain meadows one minute. And then the avalanche.
MOSES BLOOD LIVED on fifty acres of bottomland that fronted the river. There was a small house, a barn, a chicken coop, and half a dozen trailers that had been left in Moses’s hands for safekeeping. At one point, there had been over forty on the property, but the trailers had come and gone, like children, until the only ones that remained were the ones too tired or broken to move.
The afternoon sun lit the western face of the house and made the windows glow. Thumps pulled the car into the yard, turned the engine off, waited. Times past, Moses would come out to greet guests, but the years had slowed the old man. Thumps wondered, not for the first time, just how old Moses was.
Not that it mattered. You were either alive or you were dead. The only thing in between was the waiting.
Thumps took his time walking to the house, tried the door, found it open, stuck his head inside.
“Moses, it’s Thumps DreadfulWater.”
Moses’s house was one large room. More or less. Kitchen at one end, living room with a big-screen television at the other. Table, chairs, purple hide-a-bed, and a white Naugahyde recliner.
“Moses, you here?”
Moses didn’t drive. Scoop could have taken him somewhere.
Shopping, to the doctor, maybe to see relatives and friends. Otherwise, the old man was always home.
Thumps stepped out of the house and into the yard, stood in place, tried to think of what to do next.
“Mr. DreadfulWater.”
Thumps turned to see Scoop Macleod come out from behind a large single-wide.
“Thumps,” said Thumps. “Please.”
“Doesn’t seem right,” said Scoop. “You being the sheriff and all.”
“Temporary,” said Thumps.
“You here to see Moses?”
“I am.”
“Good,” said Scoop. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Thumps did a full 360. “He’s here?”
“Fishing.” Scoop made a face. “The old man almost died of COVID. He’s weak as hell, and what does he do?”
“He goes fishing?”
“He goes fishing. What is it with you guys?”
“I don’t fish.”
“No more sense than a horseshoe.” Scoop turned her face to the river. “He’s over there by the cottonwoods.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t miss him,” said Scoop. “He’s the old fool with the pole.”
“Deanna was hoping you’d bring her some stew when you come in?”
Scoop nodded. “Cooley is proud of that holding cell.”
“He did a lot of work on it.”
“The quilt and the flat-screen are nice,” said Scoop, “but it’s the bars that make the difference.”
“Pardon?”
“You know.” Scoop fiddled with her hair. “Being locked up in a cell with the big guy is kinda sexy.”
Thumps was reasonably sure he didn’t need to know that.
“Pretty sad Claire and Ivory having to leave the country to get decent health care. When are you going to join her?”
Thumps could see the line of cottonwoods from here. The tall trees stood along the bank, leaning out over the river, wondering if the grass might be greener on the other side.
“You’re not going to join her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Claire wants to do it on her own?”
“She does.”
Scoop nodded. “I do that too sometimes. Push people away.” If Moses was in amongst the cottonwoods, Thumps couldn’t see him.
“Good thing Cooley doesn’t listen to me.” Scoop shaded her eyes. “Going to head into town. When you see Moses, tell the old fool that if he catches a fish, he can clean it himself.”