The death would have to be a bizarre one. Campbell might not have bothered coming out himself if it hadn’t been.
“Same way it happens to anybody,” Hitch said.
Campbell was a hulking man, as tall as Hitch and maybe fifty pounds heavier. His face had gotten craggier in the last few years, but the same faint, knowing smile lurked around his lips, never quite pulling them tight.
“I was just walking by,” Hitch said, “coming back from seeing Griff.”
Campbell took a puff on the cigarette, then let the breeze blow out the match. “Sure you were, son. I know you wouldn’t get yourself mixed up in something like this. Tell me about it, why don’t you?”
Campbell, of all people, wasn’t likely to believe the truth. But it was the truth. If this murder was going to get solved, that truth would have to be told by somebody.
“I think he fell.”
“From where? A tree? In the middle of the cornfield?”
“I know you’ve heard about Scottie Shepherd saying he saw a body fall out of the sky.”
“Scottie Shepherd’s an old man. He don’t see good and he likes attention.”
“But do you believe him?” The answer could either make things easier for Hitch, or a whole lot harder.
“I believe something_’s going on.” Campbell studied him. “And I believe _you know more’n what you just told me. You think Scottie’s right? Something’s up there, in the clouds, killing folks?”
“That just sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
Campbell regarded him for a moment, then leaned in. “I heard about the stunt you pulled this morning, stealing that plane right out from under Livingstone’s nose. That’s crazy. Only you—that’s what I said when I heard about it. Only you.”
Hitch tried not to tense up. “That’s got nothing to do with anything. I’m not lying about this. If it’s a murder, then I take it as serious as anybody.”
“Of course you do. You’re not the type to take the law lightly. You’re just the type to go hightailing when a job don’t go right and you lose a man’s money.”
And there it was. Campbell liked to dance around the truth, but it never took him long to stick in the first jab.
Hitch looked him right back in the eye. “I’m not the type to take the heat for smuggling stolen goods when the man who hired me didn’t tell me what they were.”
“What they were was none of your business. Still isn’t. You should have trusted your sheriff a little more, son.”
“What I’ve learned over the years is that the folks telling you to trust them are usually the last people who deserve it.”
Campbell shrugged. “Glad to hear you learned something along the way. Learn your lessons and pay your dues, I always say. That shipment you lost cost me a cool five hundred dollars. When I heard you were home, naturally I figured you’d finally decided to do the right thing and pay me back.”
“I don’t owe you anything—even if I had that kind of money.”
“The way I see it, either you owe me five hundred dollars, or I should be investigating those stolen goods you got caught with nine years ago.”
If Campbell wanted to put Hitch away for a crime he was guilty of himself—a nine-year-old crime, at that—he’d do it.
Even still, paying Campbell off wasn’t going to be more than a short-term solution, at best. If that’s all it would have taken, Hitch wouldn’t have had to scram out of the state.
Back when he’d taken Campbell up on his job offer—hauling goods over the state line—he had still bought into the whole idea that Campbell was an upstanding public servant. It was only after the cops in Cheyenne figured out the goods were stolen, and Campbell tried to pin the whole thing on Hitch, that he figured it all out.
Campbell had promised he’d clean up the whole mess if Hitch paid for the lost goods. Hitch hadn’t had that kind of money, even back then. When he’d tried to tell the mayor what Campbell was pulling under his nose, Campbell had threatened Hitch’s family—Celia, Griff, and his pop.
So Hitch had gotten into that plane and scrammed.
And now he was back, like an idiot. He’d never dreamed Campbell would still be in office.
“All right.” He forced the words. Going to jail wasn’t any better an option right now than it had been before. And this time he wasn’t going to run. “I’ll pay off. After I win the show.”
First prize was only $500, which left a big fat nothing over to pay off the crew. But if he won the show, he won the bet. Once he was managing Livingstone’s circus, the money would start rolling in. Earl and Lilla would understand the stakes here.
Rick wouldn’t. But Rick didn’t understand much.
“You always were a cocky son of a gun.” Campbell dropped the smile and watched Hitch. “I’ll tell you what. I like you, I’ve always liked you. So I’ll make this easy for both of us. I don’t need your winnings.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got a little job. Nothing tough.” He smiled. “Nothing stolen. Just moving a little booze across the state line. It’s a special gift for the governor in Cheyenne.”
“So you can add bootlegging to the charges?”
This crazy new Prohibition thing was a roaring mess all through the country. Why not here too? Campbell had always had an eye for a good on-the-side opportunity.
“Not if you do it right,” Campbell said. “In fact, you do it right, and I’ll not only cancel the debt and drop all charges, I’ll even give you something extra. Say a hundred dollars.”
A hundred dollars would come in handy like a new engine would come in handy. But that’s exactly what Hitch had thought the first time he’d talked himself into working for Campbell.
“You’ll get your money,” he said. “After I win the show.”
Campbell pursed his lips. “It’s a limited-time offer. You think about it. You got until the end of tomorrow to make up your mind.”
Hitch’s mind was already made up, but he left it at that. If Campbell wasn’t going to arrest him on the spot, the best thing he could do was keep his mouth buttoned up. He managed a tight nod.
Campbell took one step toward the cornfield, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Suppose you been out Carpenters’ way? Seen the kiddies?”
“Not planning to.” Hitch flexed his hands to keep from fisting them. “Nan made it pretty clear I’m not wanted.”
“Did she now?” The almost-smile flickered across Campbell’s face. “I’ll be seeing you. Tomorrow, I hope.” He lumbered over to the cornfield’s fence and stopped to shake Livingstone’s hand.
Livingstone immediately started talking and gesturing toward the corpse with his walking stick. That was one handy thing about having Livingstone around. He was always more than happy to take all the attention onto himself.
Hitch breathed out. That could have gone better. Could have gone worse too. But getting himself mixed up in this murder wasn’t good. Campbell could use it in any number of ways to twist Hitch’s arm up behind his back. He wasn’t likely to find any legitimate suspects now that he’d just dismissed out of hand the fact Hitch had seen this guy fall out of the sky.
He looked up at the stars. The big cloud no longer obstructed their glittering.
Speaking of people who thought they had seen things in the sky… He looked back down to find Jael lurking in the shadows at the edge of the crowd. She deserved to know what Zlo had said about her.