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Tuesday, September 21
Adam was beginning to relish his newfound ability to sleep like a newborn baby. Maybe he should be more worried about the case and other things—like his recently repaired car being dunked into a pond. But for some reason, he felt pretty good. A perfect state of mind to go hunting.
Unlike the trip to Mr. X’s castle, this route Adam knew like the back of his forty-two-year-old hand. He pulled up in front of a cabin and waited for his friend to hop in. “Haven’t heard a word from you in two forevers, Stork. What have you been up to?”
“This and that. Old man Korn pays me well to look after his property. Lots of fresh air, lots of natural vitamin D.”
“You still on that health food kick? You were taking some twenty vitamins for a while.”
“Chucked ’em all. Got a juicer. Grind up everything and drink my meals.”
Adam gripped his shoulder. “I need to take you out for a steak, my friend.”
“Get thee behind me, yada yada. I haven’t had a steak in years.”
“Steak, horseradish crust, medium rare, and a loaded baked potato.”
Stork sighed happily. “Don’t forget the maple pie.”
“With cinnamon ice cream.”
Adam’s companion pointed toward the “Y” in the road ahead. “That’s the one you need to take. About a mile or so.” He added, “Funny you should call me up. I was out here the other day, and a pretty lady pulled a gun on me.”
“About five-eight, thirty-five-ish, long dark hair?”
“That’s the gal. Forgot to take the safety off that gun.”
She’d learned her lesson since the safety was most definitely off at the cabin when Goldie kidnapped him. “What did Beverly want?”
“That’s her name? Beverly? Nice name. She didn’t come right out and say what she was after.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I mentioned my ancestor, one of Rogers’ Rangers. She was kinda interested in that.”
“I didn’t know one of your ancestors was a ranger.”
“We’re not proud of that part of the family.”
“We’ve all got those.”
“That’s what I told her.”
As they drew closer to the camp where Mr. X believed Gabriel Karlstad might be hiding out, tendrils of smoke curled up into the clear blue sky. When the camp came into view, he counted half a dozen rustic homes clustered around a semicircle off to the left side. No power lines going into the houses. But he spied a few generators, and the smoke was coming out of one of the chimneys indicating a fireplace or wood stove.
Adam looked around for the obligatory mangy dog or half-feral cat, but the area was surprisingly devoid of animals. Not a cow anywhere. Or a yak. Stork pointed toward the home closest to them. “That’s where Joe Bibb lives. If any of these characters is harboring your bad guy, it’d be him.”
Adam let Stork lead the way since he was known to most of these people. The woman who opened the door smiled at Stork but looked at Adam with a furrowed brow. “Who’s he?”
“Friend of mine, Missy. Is your husband home?”
“Him and Gerry are out huntin.’”
“I see. That’s too bad. Hoped I might hit him up for some of that gold maple vodka of his. I was telling Adam here all about it, and he didn’t believe me when I said how good it was.”
“Joe’s the best. Better than that fancy crap they sell in Brattleboro.”
Stork nodded vigorously. “I second that.”
Missy looked behind her. “We don’t got much extry right now but wouldn’t want Adam here calling you a liar. Come on in, and I can give him a taste.”
Adam hoped Stork knew what he was doing. As Missy led them inside, it didn’t take long to tell this was a far cry from Forsythe’s mansion. Or the mayor’s fancy spread. Hell, it was a far cry from his own small home. Three rooms total, as near as he could see, the front living-dining-kitchen combo and two tiny bedrooms, with a small bathroom between. The walls were covered with mounted guns, knives, and animal heads.
Missy poured him a half glass of the vodka, and he sipped it slowly. The first drops down his throat made him think he’d swallowed hot acid, but after that initial kick, it was quite smooth. He lifted his glass at Missy. “Okay, so I guess Stork here won that bet. And you’re right. That stuff in Brattleboro is a poor imitation.”
She smiled at him and then added apologetically to Stork, “When you come next, Joe’ll have a new batch ready.”
“No problem, Missy. I’m a patient man. Though Adam here might disagree.”
Missy asked Adam, “Are you a caretaker, too?”
Adam took another sip from the glass. “I look after things.”
Stork piped in, “Adam and I go way back to when we was kids. He knows the area around here. And the people, too.” Stork lowered his voice. “There was this one feller I saw the other day. Wasn’t too sure about that one. Hadn’t seen him before, I don’t recall. Odd gent. Had this one gold tooth. You might want to keep your eye out for him.”
Missy snickered. “Don’t worry over him, Stork. I’ll tell him to leave you alone. That’s just Gabe. And as long as you don’t bother him, he won’t bother you.”
“Does he live here now?”
“From time to time, when he needs a place to hide—” She hastened to add, “To dry out.”
Adam kept taking subtle glances around the small room, looking for signs Gabe was there recently. Clue number one was the top of a bloody cloth poking out of the sink. Add one of those knives on the wall and some vodka, and you’d have the means to cut out a bullet and disinfect it afterward.
Stork said, “I’d like to meet this Gabe of yours. So if he sees me around, he’ll know I’m okay.”
“You just missed him. I’d say to look for him at the Dragon’s Teeth Bar where he likes to hang out. But he went into the Junction on some business, he said. He’s friends with the mayor, you know that?”
“Is that a fact?” Stork smiled. “More reason to get to know him, then, if he’s that all-fired important.”
“Oh, he’s important, all right. Got a shitload of powerful friends. There’s this one in particular.”
Stork asked, “More powerful than the mayor?”
“Much. Richer, too. Gabe was doing a job for him yesterday when he was . . . “ Missy’s voice trailed off. “Anyways, I’ll tell Joe you came by, Stork.”
“You do that. Hope to get some more of this elixir soon.” Stork took Adam’s glass from him and handed it over. “You should sell it. Might make some good money.”
“I told him that myself. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Stork laughed. “Thanks again, Missy. Take care now.”
When they were back in Adam’s car and down the road, Stork said to Adam, “Missy can be a decent sort if you don’t cross her. She and Joe had a black market business for a while. They’ve dabbled in things you could arrest her for several times over.”
“And may have to someday.”
“Be a shame. She hasn’t known any other way, you see. Abused by her stepfather, abandoned by her mother, a drug user.”
“Perhaps she’s done dabbling for good, Stork.”
“More than I can say for our friend Gabe. Sorry we missed him.”
“We’ll get him, Stork. That’s a promise. But if you do see him before I do—”
“I’ll have him hogtied with a pretty red bow and delivered to your office.”
§ § §
After Adam parted ways with Stork, he pulled into the parking lot of Miralee’s Market for some coffee. It turned out to be good timing when he got a call on his cell from Creighton Querry.
“Cray, please tell me you’ve got something I can use.”
“I got something, but it’s not much.”
“I’ll take whatever crumbs you have.”
“I’ve been pursuing Nagra of Pierson’s Moving Company and found the man had a favorite haunt, this little diner in Walbridge.”
“The Birdseye, right across the state line?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. I chatted up the owner, and she admitted Nagra was a regular, but she hadn’t seen him for two months, which was unusual. She guessed maybe it was a family thing or vacation or such.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“She doesn’t know, and I don’t know for sure. But she also swears that on his last visit, he was extremely tense and nervous and looking over his shoulder. And that she saw him leave in his usual red Mercedes. Then, a half-hour later, she witnessed that same red Mercedes driving past, but the driver wasn’t Nagra.”
“Did she get a description of said driver?”
“Not a good one. He had the windows rolled up. But it looked like he was playing car karaoke, singing to himself. She said she thought he had this one gold tooth.”
Goldie. Of course. “Your crumbs are more like bread loaves, my friend. Can’t pay you—yet—but you get a gold star to go with that gold tooth.”
“Yay for me. I’ll put in on my calendar. Seriously, though, ya think this helps in building the case against Forsythe?”
“Definitely doesn’t hurt, and I’ll keep my promise. If this pans out, you’ll get credit in the paper.”
“When pigs fly, right?”
“Cray, you know my word is good.”
“Yeah, yeah. You goody-two-shoes types. Keep me in the loop, ’kay?”
Adam hung up and tried to connect the investigative dots. According to Cray, Nagra, a crooked associate of Reggie Forsythe’s and a backer of Representative Strudwick, acted nervously right before he went missing. Enter Goldie, another crooked associate and kidnapper, and you have an intriguing thread from one to the other. Adam wouldn’t have been surprised to see Kannan Hendrick pop up in all of this if he weren’t already six feet under.
