Page 25 of Wild Ride


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“Give it ten more minutes and you can take one of your own.”

“The storm is letting up. My prime time might be over.”

“Huge county, Ted. Lots of time yet to make yourself a fortune.”

He laughed and I kept eating.

“What about the dead guy down on Milk Run?” asked Ted. “Did he have a car to tow?”

“He was walking. That’s why he froze to death. He must have got tired and laid down to rest.”

“Jesus,” said Ted. “Why in hell would he be walking in a fuckin blizzard? There ain’t a goddamned thing on that road but a couple houses at the end.”

“No idea, Ted. Trying to get home, I guess. According to his neighbor who found him, he only had another mile to go.”

“Who was the neighbor?” Ted waved Maryanne over and ordered lemon pie. When she brought it and refilled our coffees, the pie looked good and I ordered it too.

“Milly Perkins.”

“And the dead guy was Garnet?”

“That’s right. What do you know about them?”

“I heard they were living together.”

“No shit?”

“None.”

“She acted like he was just a neighbor she barely knew.”

“Huh,” said Ted. “Maybe they broke up or something. I don’t know their business.”

“Me neither, but if it’s a suspicious death, I’ll have to investigate it.”

“Freezing to death ain’t suspicious,” said Ted. “Just fuckin stupid.”

“If the reason he was put in a position to freeze to death is in question, then it’s a suspicious death. Like why was Garnet Booth out in the blizzard on foot in the first place?”

Ted thought for a moment. “I see what you’re getting at. Like did somebody dump him off and make him walk? Like that?”

“If he didn’t get to that spot in the road alone—the spot he froze to death—then I have to find out how in hell he got there.”

“Right. I see that now. That makes it more interesting, don’t it?”

“Interesting or puzzling,” I said. “No doubt about it, Ted, I’ll have to go back and question Miss Milly.”

“Yeah, you will.” Ted gave me a funny look. “Never realized you were smart, Travis. You don’t look it.”

That made me laugh. “Thanks, Ted.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

When I got back to the office it was almost quitting time. I kicked the snow off my boots at the back door and blew on my frozen hands to warm them up.

I was in the break room shedding my coat when Molly hollered at me from the squad room. “Travis, we have a sighting on the pickup owned by Roger Purcell.”

“Where is it?” I ran down the hall at top speed. Since my ribs weren’t healed, my top speed was a slow average.

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