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“He’s been in the bar a few times. Don’t know him, but heard he did some time. I think he comes from down Valier way too.”
“We’re on the right track then.”
“Last place they might go is home, Travis. If they’ve got a fuckin brain.”
“I thought of that, but we have to check.”
“I’ll head for the Run now. Got pitchers of Miller for you and Billy when you get there.”
“Copy that.”
Valier.
As we drove further into the snow-covered countryside, I couldn't help but think about Savanna lying in intensive care. I felt a sickening knot twisting in my stomach, and I clenched my jaw tight to keep from breaking down. Billy and I were on a mission, and I had to stay focused.
“That’s it,” hollered Billy. He slammed on the brakes and the squad skidded sideways and bounced off a snowbank. I’d come to the conclusion that of the two of us, Billy Johnson wasn’t the best driver.
With a lot of wheel spinning, Billy got us straightened around and pointed down the lane into the Purcell place. A single track was plowed from the road to the house.
Smoke curled out the chimney of a story-and-a half frame house. Painted gray and showing marks where there used to be shutters on the front window.
“No blue pickup,” said Billy.
“Did you expect it?”
“No, but I wanted it to be here so I could beat the shit out of him.”
“Yeah, my thoughts too.”
“Lights are on,” said Billy. “Let’s see who’s home.” He pulled over, and we got out to take a closer look.
I pounded on the door of the small cabin, and a grizzled-looking man in his late fifties opened it a crack. I held up my badge and he seemed surprised to see me. In that moment I felt sorry for him. Maybe he didn’t know he had a murdering son.
“Mister Purcell, I’m Sheriff Frost and I’m looking for Roger.”
“Why? What did he do?”
“He and his buddy robbed Coyote Creek Needs and Feeds this morning. The store manager was killed and the store owner is in critical condition in the hospital. Roger has a lot to answer for.”
“No.” The old guy shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong guy. My boy would never hurt anybody.”
“Does he hang out with Burke Foster?” asked Billy.
“Yeah, sometimes he does. They’re friends, but they’re not bad boys, Deputy. They ain’t criminals. I don’t think you’re looking for the right people.”
“Thanks, Mister Purcell. I don’t suppose you’d call my cell if Roger showed up.”
“No reason to. Roger didn’t do anything.”
Dry Run Roadhouse.
Billy and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and we were starved by the time we go to the roadhouse. The BOLO was out on Purcell’s pickup and wants were out on both of the boys. All we could do at this point was hope the truck was spotted. If they did the smart thing and changed vehicles, we were fucked.
Working behind the bar, Jack looked like hell on a stick. He was moving fast, filling pitchers from the taps and trying his damndest to hold it together. Just because he and Savanna weren’t together any longer, didn’t mean Jack didn’t love her like a rabid dog.
He set a pitcher of Miller down in front of me along with a glass and a coaster. Same for Billy, but he gave him Bud.
“We need food, Jack.”
