Tibbs was quiet. Joe could hear the tinkling of utensils in the background as well as the play-by-play call of the Dallas game.
“Text me the address,” Tibbs said wearily. “I’ll call Steck, Bass, and Norwood so I can ruin their holiday as well.”
“Sorry again,” Joe said.
“Can’t you just stay home and mind your own business?” Tibbs asked with sudden heat. “Every time you go out, you create another goddamn headache for me and my department.”
Joe punched off without responding.
Then he called Marybeth with the bad news and ruined her holiday.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Northern Lights
Several hours later, Joe sat outside his home at dusk in a rocking chair with a blanket on his lap and his twelve-gauge Remington Wingmaster shotgun across his thighs. Daisy was at his feet. He smoked a cigar and sipped on a tumbler of bourbon and water and watched errant strobes of red and blue lights flash across the tops of the trees in the direction of Lola Lowry’s trailer as sheriff’s department vehicles came and went.
The news about Lola had cast a definite pall on the festivities inside, although no one had yet left. He’d described what he found at the scene to hushed silence. His daughters, Liv, and Marybeth speculated on what had happened and what was going on around them. Two murders in two days in Twelve Sleep County was a remarkable and unwelcome development. Fong Chan quietly followed the discussion with wide eyes, suggesting that she couldn’t quite believe what a barbaric environment her sweet friend Lucy had come from.
Even though there were law enforcement vehicles on the access road, Joe kept a close eye on the wall of trees to the east in the direction of the county road. If the gargoyle that Marybeth saw that morning came creeping back, he was ready for him.
Joe had informed Sheriff Tibbs when he met him at the crime scene about the gargoyle, as well as the two men parked on the side of the county road he’d encountered the night before. He’d described the men—what he could see of them—and said the driver had heavy features that could be described as “gargoyle-like.” And he’d given a description of the SUV with Colorado plates.
Tibbs had taken down the information in a notebook, but in a dismissive and cursory fashion, Joe thought. As if Joe’s tip was just another item designed to complicate matters.
All Joe knew about the cause of death was Gary Norwood’s initial proclamation that it “wasn’t a gunshot wound.” The hole in her forehead had been caused by a sharp weapon yet to be determined.
That poor old lady, Joe thought. She was now the primary focus of a literal locked-room mystery scenario. Who could have killed her and how had the bad guy gotten into her trailer? And what was the motivation?
* * *
—
“Are you going to sit out here all night?” Sheridan asked in the dark. She slid a lawn chair over next to Joe and sat down.
“Probably for a while,” he said. “I hope I can head off any more surprises before they happen.”
“I didn’t know you smoked cigars.”
“This one was a gift. I checked on a bunch of hunters at an elk camp last week and one of them gave me a cigar. I kind of like it. He was probably guilty of something.”
“Mom told us about that Bert Kizer guy,” she said. “Do you think Lola’s murder is connected with him?”
“That’s what I’m trying to puzzle out. I don’t know if they even knew each other or why someone would go after them. Maybe they knew each other from the senior center? There are a lot of questions about what’s happened in the last two days and I don’t have any answers. Problem is, I don’t think the sheriff has any, either.”
“He isn’t really on the top of his game, is he?” Sheridan asked. She’d had experiences with the sheriff when Joe was lost in the mountains.
“He might surprise us,” Joe said.
“Doubtful.” Sheridan was a harsh judge of character, Joe thought. Like her mother.
“Are you going to investigate it yourself?” she asked.
“You know how that works. The sheriff has to invite me in. He hasn’t done that.”
“When has that ever stopped you before?”
Joe grinned. Good point.
“If you do decide to get involved, I hope you’ll let me know,” she said. “With Nate gone, I could be your partner.”
Joe was touched. He reached out and grasped her hand.
“You need to stay close to Liv and Kestrel and keep an eye on them,” he said. “That was the deal with Nate, wasn’t it?”