Page 48 of The Last Grift
Probably that ship had sailed, but Gabe was feeling petty and didn’t say anything.
“Aww, you’re not going to tell me to go away,” Gabriel said. “Be careful, I might start thinking you like me.”
Oh, Chance. Always the wrong ones.
“Nah, no chance.” Lundin opened a drawer and tucked a memory drive into his pocket. “Follow me to the office. Assuming Gordon isn’t dead or down the side of that cliff, I have a few ideas of where he might hide out.” Ranger Man stalked off the boat.
“Follow me to the office,” Gabe repeated. “Kiss my ass.” But even he knew that he was going to follow Lundin.
After blastingthe heater in his car for the few miles it took to get to the park headquarters, Gabe found the inside of the building to be noticeably chilly. Thankfully, the first thing Lundin did after flipping on the lights was cross to the thermostat and bump the heat up.
“More coffee?” he asked, almost pleasantly.
Gabriel held up his travel mug. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
Lundin spun on his heel and disappeared behind a door, the dog trotting after him, leaving Gabriel to hang out alone in the front reception. The space reminded him a bit of the grocery store but without the dry goods. In addition to a rack of brochures about the local region, there were picture frames screwed into the walls with black-and-white photos of the area as White people had begun to arrive. He recognized a few of them; he’d seen them on the walls of the store.
It was kind of depressing to see pleased lumberjacks swarming over the trunk of a felled tree, so large that it took five or six men to surround it fingertip to fingertip, like it was a trophy kill. He turned away from the photos and looked out the windows instead.
“What the hell is that?” he asked. A chain-link fence with razor wire along the top extended for quite a distance, far enough that wherever it ended was obscured by trees and shrubs. Gabriel had noticed the fence when he drove in, but the security measures hadn’t registered. “What the hell is hidden back there?”
“That’s a mothballed deep-water ammunition pier. It used to be part of the fort. You know the park where I gave you a ticket for trespassing?” Lundin said as he came back into the room.
“Holy fuck. I had no idea something like that was out here.” He chose to ignore the jibe about the trespassing violation.
“Most people don’t know. I’m sure the Navy likes it that way.”
Gabriel took in the forest land on the protected side of the fencing. What he could see looked to be undisturbed foliage, healthy evergreens and rhododendron shrubs. Lush. He speculated how long the barrier had been there and how many years it had been since the last human had intruded.
“I’d love to check out what’s over there.”
“Won’t happen. A civilian won’t get access. There’s protected tribal land too, and archaeological sites. I find it horribly ironic that the military base accidentally preserved Native land. But that’s not what we’re here for.”
“Nope. I want to know where to look for Gordon.” He was curious about the history of the old base, but the past could wait for another time.
Lundin moved behind a rickety desk with a desktop monitor sitting on it, a tower tucked to the side. There was barely room for him to sit down. The computer sputtered to life, the low-pitched whine and wheeze of its fan seeming to indicate failure was imminent.
“That thing sounds like it’s on life support.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not as if the state is showering us with unlimited buckets of money.” Lundin raised his eyebrows and waited for Gabriel to start talking.
“Tell me about the sheriff too, what’s his deal? Elton said to ask you, so against my better judgment, here I am.”
Eyes narrowed, Lundin stared up at Gabriel long enough that Gabe started to feel uncomfortable and did his best not to twitch.
“I’m guessing Elton told you about Mickie?”
Gabe shook his head. “Nope. Who’s Mickie?”
Lundin stared at him as if debating what he would share with Gabriel about this Mickie person. Then he sighed andshook his head. “My half brother. He’s in prison for the murder of his girlfriend, thanks to fucking Rizzi. I don’t think he did it—Iknowhe didn’t do it. But Rizzi holds all the power here, and he’s damn careful. I haven’t been able to prove anything, but either he’s dirty or some of his deputies are. Mickie was a convenient scapegoat for somebody.”
“Okay, but is Rizzi crooked enough to knock off his own nephew for some reason?”
Before he’d finally managed to fall asleep last night, Gabe’s thoughts had been about Dwayne Perkins. Were Elton and Lundin both wrong? Had Gordon MacDonald snapped and murdered the other man? And the worst: Was someone out there thinking that Gabriel could just as easily take the fall for it? But how would anyone have known he would be the one to find the body?
No one would, he assured himself, but worry still nagged at him.
