Page 76 of South of Nowhere

Dorion’s sour laugh was his answer.

He asked Olsen, “The bomb curtains?”

“Effing weather. They think forty minutes to an hour. And after sunset, nobody flies, not on a mission like this.”

His lips grew tight, then he asked, “And evacuation?”

“Still a couple dozen remainers we know about. But a lot of the houses are dark—we don’t know about them. Nobody answering the door. Mrs. Petaluma is still ignoring everybody too. Mary Dove called her twice. No response.” She looked to Starr. “And everybody on our list of disabled and home care?”

“They’re out.”

“Good,” Shaw said.

Starr muttered, “And now some kids are playing in the caves on the hillside.” An angry expression on her face, she pointed up the valley.

Dorion added, “That’s on Eduardo’s list, to pry them out.”

Shaw looked to those around the table. “Now, the Hatfields andMcCoys…Annie Coyne, the farmer? No sense that she’s behind it. She started trenching after the levee came down, she claims, and I think she was telling the truth. And it was a used machine with no rental sticker on it. Probably hers, so she didn’t get it in anticipation. And she’s doing environmental research. It means a lot to her. A flood would destroy her work. Also, she has sentimental attachment to the farm.

“She admitted the feud with Redding. If she was guilty, she’d steer us away from any grudges she had. Of course, maybe it was an act…But I’d take her off the list as a suspect to the tune of, say, ninety percent.

“Now, Redding. He and some men were sandbagging. He had a big supply of sand and bags. He said he kept them there as a regular matter. Hedidanticipate there’d be a problem with the levee, but said it was because he followed the weather reports in the mountains and knew the levee was at risk. That seemed credible too.”

“So he’s innocent,” Starr said, sighing.

“I didn’t say that,” Shaw offered.

Tolifson frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Because as I was leaving, there was an employee I saw in one of the buildings behind the offices. He was trying to stay out of sight, but I caught a glimpse of him. I said ‘employee,’ but I’m really going to go with independent contractor.”

“Ha,” Starr muttered. “He means muscle.”

Shaw nodded. “It was Bear, the man who tried to beat me to death with a shovel this morning.”

33.

Shaw watched TC McGuire climb the hill to the command post.

The big man was fit but was walking slowly. It had been a long day—the time was after 5 p.m., though it seemed as if the levee collapse had happened days ago.

Tolifson had pulled him off evac detail and briefed him on the assault suspect having a likely connection to Gerard Redding.

Shaw said, “We’d like to get some surveillance on the mine—from someplace safe, of course. You know the area?”

“Like the back of my hand. Hell, yes.”

Shaw asked Tolifson, “You have any telephoto surveillance cameras?”

The mayor in turn looked to Starr, who said, “Hm. Speed guns are about as high tech as we get. And they’re two years out of date. That’s it.”

McGuire said, “Got my phone. It’s a new one. So you’re looking for that guy with the beard, right?”

“Yes.”

And the officer was nodding. “You hoping for some shots to use for facial recognition?”

It was Starr who answered—absently, as she was staring at themap of the town and the surrounding area. “Don’t think we can pull that together, TC. I’m guessing Colter just wants a video of Bear and Redding together. Hopefully, a shot with Bear’s vehicle make and model and, if Santa’s good to us, a tag number in our stocking.”

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