"I have my boys check it out now and then," said Bolt, "to make sure there's no vandalism. You know, broken windows."
"Are there any?"
"You tell me, son. You're the one says he spent the night."
"I didn't say that."
"No, I guess I'm saying that. Saw that fax from Herndon, and I thought, let's check it out. So next time I'm driving down that way in daylight, I pull up and sure enough, there's tire tracks going in and coming out. And footprints. Don't like footprints—that's vandals. That's bums trying to squat in an abandoned house. Or tracks can be bored teenagers looking for a place to smoke some weed or pass along some sexually transmitted disease, but whatever it was I figured it was my job to know. Drove on in, parked a ways back, and saw as how you must have had a driver when you got out of your car."
"We did."
"Yeah, well, I looked for a lady's footprints, but it seems she never got out of the car."
"Is that what it looks like?"
"Or you carried her in. It's damn sure she never set foot in that snow."
"Interesting observation."
"So far so good," said Chief Bolt. "So I remember how the owner asked me to look in on the place, so I think, Time to look in. Climbed up the steps and it's kind of dirty in there, isn't it?"
"Yes sir, I'd say so."
"And cold. A man could freeze his ass off in there. But somebody walked upstairs and spent the night on a filthy dustcover and peed in a toilet that doesn't flush and spit toothpaste into the dry sink. Walked to the basement kitchen, stepping on roaches all the way, walked to the empty fridge—am I getting this right?"
Bolt's cocky sarcasm was contagious. As always, Quentin picked up the tone of the conversation and played it back. "You're quite the Sherlock Holmes," he said.
Bolt's reaction was a brief "Ha." And then: "Well, I won't go through your whole itinerary. A walk out to the bluff. You did a real dance all over the graveyard. Walked around front. And then I've got your tracks coming back out the front door. You sat down on the second from the bottom step and set your bags down beside you. And then you got up and walked on out to the road and went south. Have I about got it right?"
"Can't argue with the truth, Chief."
"And I ask myself, where was this woman who was supposedly last seen leaving the old Laurent place?"
"Laurent?"
"I guess the Laurents lived there longest so the name stuck. Anyway, the only thing I could figure was the missing woman you're looking for must have drove off in that car. Looked like the driver went around to open the door for her, but she never got out. And now she's missing."
"Definitely missing."
"So I really had only one question for you, Mr. Fears."
"Fearsss. Rhymes with pierce."
"Here's my question. Why did a man who the Herndon police tell me is richer than several third world countries combined, why would such a man go inside a freezing cold abandoned house and spend the night in bugs and filth?"
"Is that a crime, Chief?"
"Oh, if I caught you there, I could lock you up and put a vagrancy charge on you, but since you could show means of support and all, I don't think it would stick. Trespass, of course, but you didn't steal or vandalize. So no, we're not charging you with anything. I'm just curious, that's all."
"So am I. I want to know where my wife is. Doesn't sound like you know."
"I see," said Chief Bolt. "Kind of unfair for you to come up here, act weird, go away, and not answer questions about it."
This wasn't going at all well.
"Chief, let me ask you a question."
"Do you want me to answer it or just weasel around like you did?"
"Didn't you get an inquiry from a Ray Cryer about my wife, Madeleine Cryer Fears?"
"Ah, the father-in-law."
"I've never met him, but he says he is."
"Maybe it's in the paperwork somewhere, but—"
"No, it would have been called in during the last few days. You've been answering the phone, right?"
"Ray Cryer?"
"Right."
"Nothing here. I've got the old messy-desk filing system, so I can't swear to it, but no, nothing."
"Well, you see, this Ray Cryer called me and told me he had called you to tell you his daughter was missing. From that house. And that he already had the local police looking for her."
"We're the local police, and we aren't. Looking for her."
"Curiouser and curiouser."
"But if you were there when she left, Mr. Fears, why would he call to tell you she was gone?"
"That's my question, Chief. It sounded to me like maybe he was trying to set up a different version of events."
"Well, we'll never know, will we? Right now, all I've got is your word that your wife was there. And clear evidence that you've got really weird taste in lodgings."
"Well, thank you, Chief Bolt, you've been really helpful."
"So you're gonna blow me off?"
"No sir. On the contrary, I'm hoping you'll keep your eyes open and help my investigators when they get there."
"This Ray Cryer blackmailing you? Is that it?"
"Pardon?"
"Were you on drugs that night? Was it a drug deal or something, and they dropped you off and threatened you or something?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You won't tell me why you acted so weird, I got to rack my brain coming up with stories that fit the evidence."
"Chief, the house is haunted. I was invited in by ghosts, slept with ghosts, had breakfast with ghosts, went on out to the graveyard to say good-bye to their bodies, and then hiked along the highway to get home."
"You know, I may be a small-town chief of the tiniest police force this side of Maggody Arkansas, but I got as good a doorway into jail as any other cop in America. So why are you showing me such disrespect, son? Though I will say that at least you're paying for the call."
"Chief Bolt, I don't want to be your enemy."
"That's good to hear. I'm not a good enemy to have."
"Can you tell me anything about old lady Laurent?"
"Laurent? She's dead."
Dead? Then what was "Find me" all about? "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Happened about twenty years ago and she was older than God when she croaked, so nobody's broke up about it."
"I thought you said the old lady went into a rest home a few years ago."
"Son, it's plain to me you don't know squat about that house and the people who used to live in it, and yet you said your wife took you there to meet her family. Now you lay it out plain. Is this Ray Cryer blackmailing you about something? Did you do something criminal in that house? Or are you just insane? Because you sure as hell did not marry a woman who has anything to do with that house, since that family is gone. Old lady Laurent is dead. The current owner is her daughter, the old lady I mentioned who went into a rest home. And her only daughter is about thirty-five and married with a little kid, and she's never been back since the old lady moved out."
"I did nothing criminal in that house. If Ray Cryer is blackmailing me, he hasn't asked for money yet and if he does I won't give him any because I haven't done anything I need to hide. As to whether I'm insane, well, at my income level people generally call us eccentric."
"But you're still not answering my questions."
"Chief, I want very much to meet you."
"The feeling is mutual."
"I want to go through that house with you and find out everything you can tell me about it."
"What, am I a realtor now?"
"Believe me or not, Chief, my wife came to that house with me. She grew up in that house, of that I have no doubt. It's her people buried in the graveyard. And if I have any hope of finding her, it'll be through whatever I can learn about that house. So I will be there soon. And in the meantime, I'll fax you the receipt from the limo service that took us there, so you can find out whether I did in fact arrive with my wife."