Page 86 of Head Room
“If he came here, it would be to see one or all of us.No sense coming here otherwise.Plenty of other places to go to disappear.And we haven’t seen him.”He had logic on his side.
“Did he say anything to you about being unhappy, maybe missing his wife, or...”I left it open.
“Anything that’d point to him burning down his cabin with him in it — that’s another no.”
“Could he have said anything to anyone else here?”
“Only talked to me that day.”
“Does he know everyone who’s up here?”
“No.”
That not only shut the door on that topic, but declared I would never get across the threshold to find out the identities of all the men — people?— in their loose group.
I don’t like closed doors.Occupational hazard or personality trait, they irritate me.But anyone letting their irritations drive the engine invites crashes.
Besides, who Sergeant Jardosdidn’tknow wasn’t likely to be key to what happened at his cabin.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“But he knowsseveral of the people, besides you?”
“Sure.”
“Who else?”
He’d been braced for me to try to batter down the door.The fact that I didn’t, relaxed him.But it didn’t send him into a coma.
“Him,” he said with a jerk of his head toward the younger man, not even giving me a first name.“And Nance.”
“Did you talk with Frank Jardos in town recently?”I asked the younger man.
He was taller than Jardos’ reported five-ten, but still, would Hiram Popppinger consider them an even match?
“In town?No,” the younger man said.
I was inclined to believe him.Partly from his surprise.Partly because he would know how easy it would be to disprove.
“I’d like to talk to Nance.”
The younger guy flicked a look at the older one, who answered, “Hasn’t been around for a while.He comes and goes.No reason he can’t.Free agent.Not committed.”
That was interesting.I would have considered all the members of a group living in the woods as free agents, not committed.So what about Nance made that worth mentioning?
“What’s Nance’s first name?”
Easy call to go for the newcomer’s name, since Tom would have seen both these men and would be able to give me their names.Assuming they gave them to anybody.
The older man chuckled, the younger almost smiled.
“That’s not his last name.Not his first name, either.It’s short for finance, for FMT.”
“FMT?”I repeated.
He nodded.Didn’t offer more.
The younger man spoke for the first time.“He’s a pal of my brother’s.”
