Free Dark Justice by William Bernhardt Page B

confidence, it should be a cinch for an old pro like her to find out what she wanted to know.
    Like who was wearing the Sasquatch suit the night of the murder.
    Sasquatch was sitting in the back of the bar, drinking alone. Sasquatch had seen Tess make her grand entrance, watched her cozy up to Rick Collier and initiate a conversation. Although Sasquatch didn’t know exactly what they were talking about, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was trying to do.
    She was trying to worm her way into Green Rage.
    She was trying to find the killer.
    Wouldn’t she be surprised to know that killer was sitting barely ten feet away, downing a tall cool one?
    Sasquatch turned slightly so she wouldn’t have a clear view of him. There was no telling what she knew anymore. Best to assume the worst—that she’d gotten a good view and it was recorded for all time on Video-8 tape. But if so, why all this subterfuge? Why all the investigation? Why hadn’t she gone directly to the source—or contacted the police? There was something strange going on here.
    Sasquatch lifted a beer bottle, polishing it off. It could be that she was just swimming in the dark, that she didn’t know a damn thing. And if so, fine.
    But it was also possible she knew everything, and she was just biding her time, filling in the gaps in her story. If that was it …
    Sasquatch sat grimly in the booth, clutching the empty beer bottle with both hands. Things had come too far. There was too much invested to let her bring it all crashing down now. If she knew …
    The secret would have to die. With her.

Chapter 9
    W HILE BEN WAITED FOR the sheriff to arrive the next morning, he strolled around the jail and courthouse complex. The building was weather-worn yellow brick, like most of the downtown edifices. Climbing ivy decorated the west wall, adding a splash of color to the otherwise monochrome facade. The parking was in the back, and there was a good deal more of it than Ben would have guessed. What most surprised him, though, were the two helicopters in the rear, each with its own helipad. Ben had spent enough time with his cop friend Mike Morelli, who was the pilot and co-owner of his own copter, to know they were expensive pieces of equipment—not something you’d expect to find in a tiny town like Magic Valley.
    Eventually Ben saw Sheriff Allen pull into the parking lot. He followed the man to his office.
    Allen was obviously surprised to see him. “Granted, I was expectin’ to see that cute little friend of yours come lunchtime, but I didn’t expect to see you again come hell or high water.”
    “I can imagine. I thought you opened up at nine. I’ve been waiting since then.”
    “Oops. Sorry about that. Had some business to take care of. Deputy Hardin was supposed to be in. Guess he got called out.”
    Ben nodded. “It’s all right. Out catching bad guys?”
    “I wish. Nah, I was on the phone with some hospital bureaucrat in Seattle. My mother’s in a cancer treatment center there.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “You and me both. She’s been there four years. It’s all that’s kept her alive. But it’s just about killed me.”
    “Are you her only child?”
    “Nah. Got me a sister here in town. But she’s—well, not too good in the head. So I’ve got to take care of Mom myself.” He waved his hand in the air. “But I’m sure you’ve got problems, too.”
    “I saw two helicopters out back,” Ben said. “Mind if I ask what they’re for?”
    “Mountain rescues, mostly,” Allen explained. “When we need to get up there in a hurry. Or when conventional approaches don’t work—like after ’bout thirty feet of snow.”
    “You have pilots?”
    “I fly one of those little birdies myself. So do two of my deputies. We don’t use ’em all that often, but they’re nice to have for emergencies.” He jingled the keys dangling from his belt. “Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to engage in friendly chitchat.