Page 65 of River Ride

She limped out of the clinic, struggled with the climb into the truck and cried behind the wheel when she finally made it.

“Those pills are making me sleepy. I need a motel room and a bed.”

Burkholder Bait Shop. Milk River. Montana.

The bait shop on the bank of the Milk smelled of fish and cigar smoke. A twelve-by-twelve wooden shack with a heater in the corner for cold mornings, a double refrigerator for the bait and a short counter stained with mystery splotches.

“Mister Burkholder, you called for the sheriff?”

“Did so, Sheriff Frost. Scariest thing I ever saw, especially first thing in the dang morning. Kody Kollard floated by when I went out back to check the minnow traps.”

“How long ago was that sir?”

“I called your office right away—not five minutes later—so whatever time that was, Sheriff.”

“Molly took the call at eight twenty,” said Virge.

“Okay, then,” said Carny. “The game warden passed by here at eight fifteen. I know it was him because he’s here lots checking on fishing licenses and like that.”

“Was he wearing his uniform?” asked Travis.

“You bet he was. Had his uniform on. No hat. Musta lost his hat further upstream. Bit puffed up from taking on all that water n’all.”

“When he passed your place he was going in the direction of the current?”

“Course he was, Sheriff.” Carny gave Travis a look. “What other way could he go? No dead bodies ever go against the current. You testing me?”

“No, sir. Just a confirmation. I guess it sounded like a stupid question.”

Carny Burkholder smiled and pulled a half-smoked cigar out of his shirt pocket. He shoved it into his mouth and didn’t light it.

“We’re gonna need a boat, Mister Burkholder.”

“Best you and your boys get along the road to Buddy’s place. Milk Marina. Buddy will fix you up with a boat. Maybe he even saw Warden Kollard go by. Never know.”

“Thanks for your help, Mister Burkholder,” said Travis. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Jesus, Dad,” said Virge as we hustled out to the truck. “Let’s hurry up and get ourselves a boat. We’re never gonna catch up to Kody on foot.”

“True dat, Virgil. Drive us along this road to Buddy Leeson’s place. It ain’t far.”

While Virge zoomed along the winding river road, Travis called Billy at the station. He always put the station calls on speaker so we could all hear.

“Hey, boss. Was it Kody for sure?”

“Not for sure yet, Billy. Better hold off on the notification for now. The body is floating downstream and we’re on our way to rent a boat. I’m hoping we can catch up.”

“But it mightnotbe Kody?”

“Carny Burkholder says itwasKody wearing his uniform n’all, but we can’t make a notification without a positive ID. As of now, we don’t have the body.”

“Copy that. Call me when I’m good to go.”

“Will do. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Milk Marina. Milk River. Montana.

Wasn’t far at all to the boat rental. Virge rammed the truck into park, and we all ran inside to get the ball rolling. Travis told Buddy Leeson, the boat guy, the story and Buddy frowned.

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