Thirty-Six

Arn dragged in from another failed night of watching for the Midnight Sheepherder. He slipped his boots off and padded barefoot into the kitchen. “Flapjacks,” Danny said. “With strawberry syrup.” He set a cup of coffee in front of Arn, but Arn waved it away. “I don’t want one drop of caffeine coming between me and my bunk.”

“Tough night, huh?”

“The toughest,” Arn said. “I did the pecking bird all night. Someone could have driven a semi into that pasture I was watching and I’m sure I would have slept through it.”

“Wasn’t Karen putting the sneak on you, the last time, incentive enough to keep awake?” Danny asked.

“That’s the last thing I thought of before I dozed off.”

After finding the doctor missing, Arn had remained at Dr. Oakert’s house with police detectives and their forensics techs, going through the house, pointing out what he and Ana Maria had touched. The techs needed to eliminate them, along with Dr. Oakert, before they could concentrate on prints that didn’t belong. By the time they finished processing the house it had been nearly dark outside—just the time to go out and watch for the rustler.

“By the way, where is Ana Maria?” Arn asked.

“Oblanski called. The police department received a mocking note like the one the sheriff’s office got a few days ago. She thinks they’ll let her photograph it. She knows a private questioned-documents examiner in Boulder who might help.”

“Good,” Arn said, using the table to stand. “Then I’ll have the upstairs all to myself today. Nighty night.” He plodded toward the railing leading upstairs when his cell phone rang. He paused, thinking he might just let it go to voicemail, when he saw it was Slade’s number.

“The night deputies may have caught your sheep thief,” Slade said. “Just for courtesy sake, I thought you’d want to sit in on the interview.”

“Interview of whom?”

“Eddie Glass.”

Arn pocketed his phone and walked back to the kitchen. “Better fill my big mug,” he said as he downed the first cup of coffee. “I’m going to need it before the morning’s over.”

By the time Arn got to the sheriff’s office, Eddie Glass was already seated in an interview room. Sergeant Slade motioned to a chair in front of the one-way glass and turned the volume up.

Eddie sat half-sideways in the metal chair bolted to the floor, his arms hanging over the chair back as if he had no cares. “I was just out on that county road running my dog. Giving her some exercise. Nothing illegal about that,” he told the interrogator who sat across the table from him.

“Running your dog at two in the morning?” the deputy said. “You have enough room on that ranch you work at to exercise her there.”

Eddie smiled. “Maybe I didn’t want to wake up the boss.”

Arn flipped off the speaker. “Your guys brought him in for running his dog?”

“They brought him in because he was running it in Pearly Marshfield’s pasture.”

Pearly Mansfield was one of the ranchers consistently missing sheep. She’d reported breaches of her fence no less than four times this year, and she’d been one of the forces behind hiring Arn as a stock detective. “I just sat on her pasture three nights ago,” he said.

“Then your timing was off.” Slade grinned and flipped the speaker back on.

“If you got something on me, charge me,” Eddie said.

The deputy interrogating Eddie opened a manila folder. “Night deputies found where you took the gate down to enter Pearly’s pasture. And your tire marks show you drove among her sheep.”

“I told you what I was doing. About the only thing you can charge me with is trespassing. I’m walking outta here.” Without another word, Eddie Glass stood and walked to the door.

“He’s right,” Slade told Arn. “We got nothing else to hold him on. We’ll issue him a trespassing citation and that’ll be it.” He slapped the wall. “But I know he’s dirty. I know he wasn’t just exercising his dog at two in the morning. Damn! He knows just enough law to know we got nothing to make him sweat with.”

“I might be able to help,” Arn said. “A little sweat will do Eddie a lot of good.”