Black Hills
Page 113

Coop barely resisted the urge to hang his head. “None.”
“Well, then.” As if that was that, Sam continued on.
“To get back to the business,” Coop said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you and Grandma about it. I’m looking to invest.”
“Invest what?”
“Money, Granddad, which I’ve got.”
Sam stopped again. “The business is doing well enough. It doesn’t need a… what’s it? Infusion.”
“It would if we expanded. Built on to the stables, added pony rides, a small retail space.”
“Retail? Souvenirs?”
“Not exactly. I’m thinking trail gear and supplies. We get a lot of customers who buy them somewhere else. Why shouldn’t they buy their trail mix, water bottles, trail guides, and disposable camera when they realize their battery’s dead from us? If we upgraded the computer, the printer, we could do photographs, make them into postcards. A mother’s going to want a postcard of her little cowgirl sitting on a pony. She’s going to want a dozen of them.”
“That’s a lot of add-on.”
“Think of it as an organic expansion.”
“Organic expansion.” Sam snorted. “You beat all, Coop. I expect we could think on it. Postcards,” he muttered and shook his head.
Frowning, he shaded his eyes against the beam of the sun that broke through after the storm. “That’s Willy coming.”
Lucy had seen him, too, and stopped to pull off her gardening gloves, push at the hair the wind blew around her face.
“Miss Lucy.” Willy tapped the brim of his hat. “The hail sure did a job on your garden.”
“Could’ve been worse. Doesn’t seem to’ve hurt the roof, so that’s a blessing.”
“Yeah. Sam. Coop.”
“Willy. Did you get caught out in that hail?” Sam asked him.
“I missed the worst of it. Weatherman never said a thing about hail today. I don’t know why I listen half the time.”
“That’s about the amount he gets it right. Half.”
“If that. Seems to’ve blown in some warm though. Maybe that’ll stay awhile. Coop, I wonder if I could have a word with you.”
“William Johannsen, if you’ve got something to say about that murdering so-and-so, you say it right out.” Lucy fisted her hands on her hips. “We’ve a right to know.”
“I guess that’s the truth. I’m going by to talk to Lil, so it’s not something you won’t hear.” With a nudge of his knuckle, he tipped up the rim of his hat. “We found Tyler ’s wallet. Or what we believe is Tyler ’s wallet. Had his driver’s license and some other ID in it. No cash, no photographs like his wife said he had. But all the credit cards she listed.”
“Where?” Coop demanded.
“See, now, that’s the interesting thing. Well west of here, only about five miles from the Wyoming border. It looked like he was heading toward Carson Draw. The rain washed some of his trail, but once the men picked it up, they followed it well enough.”
“That’s a ways from here,” Lucy said. “A good long ways.”
Out of his current territory, Coop thought. Out of the hunting ground. “He took the pictures but left the ID.”
“That’s a fact. One theory is he figured he was far enough away from the search area to toss the wallet. Another is he just dropped it by mistake.”
“If he wanted to toss it, he could’ve used the river, or buried it.”
Willy nodded at Coop. “That’s a fact, too.”
“But this is good news, isn’t it? If he’s that far west and still moving, he’s leaving.” Lucy reached out for Coop’s arm. “I know he needs to be caught, to be stopped, but I won’t be sorry if that happens miles from here. So this is good news.”
“Might be.”
“It’s sure not bad news,” she shot back at Willy.
“Now, Miss Lucy, in circumstances like this, I’ve got to be cautious.”
“You be cautious. I’ll be sleeping easier tonight. Come on in and sit down a minute or two. I’ve got some sun tea cold and coffee hot.”
“I’d like that, I would, but I’ve got to get on. I want you to sleep easier tonight, but I want you to keep your doors locked just the same. Don’t you work too hard now. Miss Lucy, Sam.”
“I’ll be right back.” Coop walked off with Willy. “How long to verify it’s Tyler ’s wallet, and match his prints?”
“I’m hoping tomorrow. But I’m willing to put money down it’s Tyler ’s, and that Howe’s prints will be on it.”
“Are you putting the same money down that he tossed it, or dropped it?”
“That’s not a gamble I’m willing to take.”
“I’d put mine on him planting it.”
Willy pressed his lips together as he nodded. “I’d say we’re on the same page of this book. It just strikes too easy. We barely find a sign of this bastard for days. Then he leaves a trail, even after it rains, that my nearsighted grandmother could follow. I may be small-time law, but I’m not as stupid as he thinks.”
“He wants a little time, a little space, to prepare for whatever he has in mind. You make sure Lil understands that. I’ll be doing the same when I see her, but I want her to hear it from you first.”
“I’ll do that.” He opened the door of his cruiser. “Coop, the feds are putting their focus on Wyoming. Could be they’re right.”
“They’re not.”
“The evidence points there, so they’re following the evidence. All I’ve got is a gut telling me he’s hornswoggling us. That’s what I’ll be telling Lil.”
He got in the car, tipped Coop a salute, and drove back down the farm road.
BY THE TIME Coop got to the compound, the dusk-to-dawn lights had glowed on. He knew by the sounds the animals made they were feeding. A group of interns, finished for the day, piled into a van. Immediately, Weezer rocked out.
A glance at the office cabin told him that was locked up for the night. Still, he made the rounds, over gravel, concrete, mud to offices, sheds, stables, ed center, commissary to assure himself all was empty and secure.