Page 142 of Five Mountain Daddies

I should be trying to stay neutral. That’s what a good investigator does. I need to watch for clues, follow the leads until the end, not get all wrapped up with the sister of the dead guy. That’s the biggest mistake I could possiblymake.

But hell, I’m already wrapped up in this. The dead guy is an old friend, and his sister, well… Cora’s fucking gorgeous. And she’s trouble, sure as anythingelse.

We follow her phone’s GPS across the town, through a little central lane, past some farms, and soon the town turns even seedier. Ahead, there’s a trailer park, and we’re going straight intoit.

I slow down as we slide down the narrow street. Trailers press up close on either side, some of them kept pretty nice, some of them fallingapart.

“Which one?” I askher.

She shakes her head. “Nonumbers.”

I groan. “Typical. This is easier in thecity.”

“Are you gonna complain the whole time you’re here?” She gives me the sideeye.

I grin back at her. “Not my fault you’re a bunch ofhicks.”

“You were born and raised here,remember.”

“Oh, I remember. Can’tforget.”

She rolls her eyes as I pull off the side of the road and park the car in an empty lot where a trailer used to be. I kill the engine and Cora look atme.

“What are youdoing?”

“I’m getting out,” Isay.

“Why?”

“No numbers,” I answer. “So now we do this the old-fashionedway.”

I step out of the car and Cora follows me. I walk down a narrow lane and up to the front door of the first trailer Isee.

Cora follows me, uncertainly. I’ve done this a million times, though it never gets easy. I hate randomly knocking on doors, flashing my badge, asking for information. Places like this are particularly difficult. Trailer parks aren’t close-knit communities, but people here typically don’t like cops, not at all. I have my gun on me, and my badge, but I want to avoid using either of them. Still, there are gangs in this area, and lots of blind corners. I can’t help but feel a littleexposed.

I glance back at Cora and take a breath. I have to calm down. Cora’s with me, and I can’t risk hersafety.

An old woman answers the door. “What?” shecroaks.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for a trailer owned by a woman named Nancy. She’s got a daughter named Kristi, you knowthem?”

“Hell, no,” the lady croaks. “Who the fuck areyou?”

“Wyatt,” I say. “That’sCora.”

“Well, Wyatt and Cora, you two can fuck off.” She slams thedoor.

I step down and startwalking.

“Is that normal?” Coraasks.

“Yep,” I say. “That was actually good. She said she didn’tknow.”

“Whichmeans?”

“Means they probably don’t live in this little clump.” I nod ahead. “We’ll try upthere.”

Cora frowns. “So this is what it’s like to be acop?”

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