Still, without a body, Tremont couldn’t prove what he saw. There was no evidence on the cars, Janney had seen to that himself. But without a body, Janney couldn’t be sure this situation was contained either. The girl had to be somewhere. Had someone found it before he got there? If so, why would they have taken it and not told anyone? Could it be the girl was still alive?
The cell phone laying on the dash rang. Only a few people had the number and none of them would use it unless it was important. He checked the caller ID. It was blocked, as it was supposed to be. “This better be good,” he answered, unhappy with the interruption.
“This is Sorenson. I just took a call from Jack Tremont.”
Janney rolled up his window. “What did he want?”
“He had a visitor tonight. A man who told him Nate Huckley was after him.”
“Really, who might this be? Don’t tell me Max Dahl was over there again.” Janney said.
“No. It was a Joseph Lonetree. Mean anything to you?”
Janney flexed his grip on the steering wheel. The name meant plenty to him.
Sorenson filled in the dead air. “I got the name from Tremont. I kissed his ass to make him trust me. Being nice to that puke made my stomach turn. Sheriff? You still there?”
“Does anyone else know Tremont called in?”
“Yeah, Bernice took the call. She got his name. Is that a problem?”
“No Bernice is fine. She’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.” Janney rapped his knuckles against the window as he thought. “Is Morales still out at Tremont’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Right. Let him know about Lonetree. Tell him he’s a stalker so the story checks out if Tremont spots him.”
“Roger.”
“And Sorenson?”
“Yeah?”
“Lonetree is armed and dangerous. He’s to be shot on sight if he’s spotted on the Tremont property.”
The deputy’s voice came back serious but eager. A little too eager, Janney thought. “I completely understand Sheriff. You can count on me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing Sorenson. Just remember what’s at stake here for you. There’s no second chance.” He pressed the end button and terminated the call.
So there was a Lonetree back in town. The game was suddenly more interesting. If it was true, Janney knew Deputy Sorenson was no match for the man, but that was all right. He was starting to think his overeager deputy was too emotional and took too many risks. Of course, the deputy had no idea what he was really involved in. He thought they were just doing drug protection and that his fortune would be made if he did his job right. He was a recent recruit and Janney had started to think him as more a liability than an asset. Lonetree might do him a favor if he killed him.
Lonetree’s return wasn’t the only news that disturbed him. The message he delivered to Tremont was that Huckley was after him. He had learned better than to place limits on what was possible and impossible in the world. Every limit he had once believed in had since been broken by the strange path he now found himself. Nothing was off-limits. What was Huckley up to? There had to be something about the Tremont girl. But what?
He rolled down the windows the entire way and the car filled with cold air. The hairs on his exposed skin stood on end. His cheeks stung from the chill. Still Janney felt sweat form in his armpits. He couldn’t decide if the complication was an opportunity or a threat. This kept churning through Janney’s head until he came to his exit and he forced himself to focus on the meeting coming up.
The Boss wasn’t going to be happy about Lonetree being in town. Janney considered not telling him, but discounted the idea. The Boss had his own sources and nothing was kept a secret from him for long. Hell, Janney wouldn’t have been surprised to find out Sorenson was a plant, put there by the Boss to spy on him. Janney had always been a little suspicious of the way Sorenson appeared so conveniently after he got rid of the moralistic son-of-a-bitch who used to “help” him. The new deputy had been perfect for the job, but something still rubbed him wrong. Maybe there was—
Janney made a fist and punched himself in the thigh. Shit, Sorenson’s not the problem. Where’s your concentration tonight?
Janney considered that hearing about Lonetree might be enough to set the Boss over the edge. Janney slowed the car to a crawl. He needed more time to think. Maybe there was a chance for him to spin the events in his favor. Maybe it was the chance he’d been waiting for. A chance for him to take over Huckley’s position, maybe even get rid of the bastard completely. Janney put his fear of the Boss to the side and focused on how he could use what had happened to his advantage. He felt the possibility floating in the air, not the way that freak Huckley felt things with his voodoo hocus-pocus bullshit, but more in his gut. Good old fashioned instinct. It was out there, he just couldn’t put a finger on it.
He was out of time. He pulled into the usual parking lot and spotted the dark shadow of the Boss’s car on the other side of the lot and rolled toward it, disgusted at himself for the way his sweaty palms slipped on the steering wheel, and the same nervous sweat that dripped from his armpits, dribbling over his rib cage and leaving a cold, moist trail. The physical reaction to the Boss’s presence only reminded Janney of the man he was instead of the man he imagined himself to be. The face in the rearview mirror was not a leader of men, but a mere child afraid of an angry and unpredictable parent. A parent to whom he had to deliver bad news.
He pulled the Crown Vic even with the driver’s door of the Boss’s black sedan and rolled down his window. The Boss’s window was already down but the inside of the car was too dark for Janney to make out his face. Not that he needed to. He could feel the Boss in the car next to him, could feel the frustration and the anger pulsing through his bloodstream. The sensation was all the more horrible because he couldn’t see the man’s face, leaving the expression that accompanied the trembling fury up to his imagination. Janney wondered if the Boss had intentionally positioned his car in a deep shadow for this exact effect. Or maybe the Boss consumed light, like a black hole, and that was why the inside of the car was impossibly dark. The only illumination was a glowing tip of a lit cigarette.
“And?”
Janney cleared his throat. “I’m handling the situation. It will all be taken care of by tomorrow.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Janney swallowed hard. “It’s complicated. Huckley went too far this time. I mean, the Tremonts are too high profile. Too local. What about the rules?”
“I’ve spoken with Huckley. He came to me,” the Boss said, trying to sound as if he were talking about a mutual friend who had stopped by for drinks. Janney wasn’t buying it. If Huckley had found a way to communicate with the Boss while he was in the coma, it was new ground for all of them. Even the phrase the Boss used, He came to me, sounded uncomfortable coming from his mouth.
“Is he out of his coma?” Janney asked, just to be sure he wasn’t reading too much into things.
“No, he’s still unconscious. But he found a way to…communicate.” The Boss paused and the cigarette tip turned a brighter orange as he drew the smoke into his lungs. In better times Janney might have asked more questions, but it didn’t take much to know this wasn’t a time for casual conversation. If the Boss said Huckley had communicated with him, Janney would leave it at that.
He waited for the Boss to continue. “Huckley was a fool, but he had his reasons. Good reasons. The Tremont girl was worth the risk. Is worth the risk,” he corrected himself.