Page 129 of Head Room
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To phone orto go in person to the sheriff’s department?
If they were going to share that Frank Jardos visited them that day, a week before someone burned down his cabin, calling Richard Alvaro would be the fastest way to get the information.
If they were not going to share, I could read more by seeing Richard’s and Deputy Ferrante’s faces.Though likely not Shelton’s.
Going there would up the irritation factor for Shelton and Ferrante.Mind you, that could be an upside for me if they weren’t going to give me the information anyway.
My phone rang.
Still debating, I answered — because this was a call I’d always answer — though somewhat absently.
“Hi, Tom.”
“Is Mike there with you?”His tone more than the words caught me.
“At the station, yeah.He flew in last night.Why—?”
“I want to— No, that can wait.”As a rule, he didn’t backtrack in a conversation, second-guessing himself.He had my complete attention.“You’ll want to come out to where I am, but you’ll do better with Mike driving.”
“Tom—?”
“Better to save your questions, too.”
I was already up, heading toward Mike’s office.I could have used those steps to slip in at least a couple questions, but Tom wouldn’t ask me to save my questions — he knew how hard it was for me — without cause.“I’m on my way to Mike.”
The office door was open and Mike at his computer.He looked up when I swung the door closed behind me.
“It’s Tom.”I handed him the phone with a shrug in answer to his look.
“Tom?What’s up?”
After that, he saiduh-huha few times, dropped in ano, and finished up with, “We’ll leave right now.”
I swung by my desk for my bag and met him at his big, rugged, and luxurious vehicle in the lot.
As he headed east, away from town, I asked, “What did he say?”
“Asked if I knew a certain landmark.When I said I did, he gave me another.When he got to one I didn’t, he said he’d text you the directions from there.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nope.”
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We made twomore turns while following the text instructions Tom sent — we’d had triple that before we reached that spot.
The last one took us into a sort of fold in the woods, where higher ground rose around three sides, with a relatively lower opening to the north.We had to be near the northern border of the county and the state, unless we were over it.
These tracks didn’t displayWelcome to Montanasigns.
We pulled up behind Tom’s ranch truck, as far to the right as possible, which still only allowed single file on the left.
When I came around the front of Mike’s vehicle, he was already in front of me.
If I’d had any doubt about that being deliberate, it died when he made an arm gesture, instructing me to stay back.
