Ray looked at him as he continued. “Sometimes we are forced to do things we don’t want to.”
Ray dipped his chin.
“What have you done?” Ed asked.
Ray shook his head then met his gaze. “Fallen from grace.”
Ed looked as if he was going to pepper him with more questions when gravel crunched beneath tires. He got up and went over to the window and looked out. “Did your brother tell anyone else you were coming here?”
Ray got this distant look in his eyes, then he got up and staggered over to see. Outside, a large black SUV pulled up in front of the cabin. Three tall, barrel-chested men got out, gazing around.
“Friends of yours?” Ed asked.
“Let me go speak to them.”
Ray made his way toward the front door. Before he reached it, Ed brushed past him holding a pump-action shotgun. “I swear you Sutherlands will be the death of me,” he said.
“This is my problem, old man.”
“Like I told you. It was until you stepped foot inside here. Now stay inside.” With that said, Ed went out, Mossberg 500 raised and racked to get their attention. “I can tell you three assholes aren’t Mormons and you sure as hell can’t read otherwise you would have seen the big ass No Trespassing sign on your way in, so I can’t wait to hear the reason why you are on my property,” Ed said.
A fourth man stepped out from the rear, wearing a long wool business trench coat. He had a black sweater below that, black pants and black shoes. He removed a pair of sunglasses. He was native in appearance.
“Ed. It’s all right,” Ray said, appearing at his side and placing a hand on the rifle to lower it.
The fourth man spoke up. “Mr. Ironwood wants to see you.”
Ray nodded. He glanced at Ed then back at them. “I just need to get my coat.” He went back inside. Ed backed up and closed the door behind them.
“Those the men you owe money to?” Ed asked.
Ray picked up his jacket that was still damp. “Tell Noah I’ve gone to the casino and that if he doesn’t hear from me, I’m sorry.”
“People don’t send out that kind of force unless they’re expecting resistance. They are trespassing on my property, Ray. I am within legal right to send them heaven bound. Let me handle this.”
Ray scoffed. “Ed. I’m a police officer. They haven’t shown deadly force. And if I thought this could be resolved another way, don’t you think I would have made a phone call by now? No. I appreciate what you’ve done,” he said, patting him on the arm. “But sometimes,” he looked up at the Sistine Chapel painting, “the painter has to go and speak to those who paid his wages.”
Ray exited the cabin and got into the back of the SUV. He looked at Ed through the darkly tinted windows. Ed was already on the phone and it didn’t take a stretch of the imagination to guess to who.
CHAPTER 19
Tuesday, November 22, 4:05 p.m.
The investigation had roadblocks every step of the way.
As Callie approached his desk, McKenzie tossed an antacid tablet into his mouth. He lifted a finger to tell her to wait while he gulped down water then tossed the paper cone into the trash. He grimaced; eyes tightly shut before he let out a loud belch. “Sonofabitch.” He glanced at his watch. “Not even halfway through the day. That’s the fourth one. You suffer from acid reflux, Thorne?” he asked, slumping down in his seat.
“Can’t say I do.”
“What’s your secret?”
“Simple. Don’t drink so much coffee.”
McKenzie gave her an incredulous expression as if dumbfounded by her response. “Next you’ll be telling me to give up alcohol.” He sniffed hard and glanced up at her. She shrugged. “Oh please.” He waved her off. “What you got there?”
Callie tapped a folder on the edge of her leg. “Is Noah still around?”
“No. He had to leave urgently. Didn’t say why. I don’t expect he’ll be back for the rest of the day, so it looks like it’s just you and I, princess.”