Page 96 of Cold, Cold Bones
“He wasnotmy squeeze. We dated a few times years ago.”
“Whatever. If something’s off with Hunt, this thing’s gone personal. Taking pics of you, that’s personal, too.”
An icy arrow pierced my chest.
“I haven’t heard from Katy since Tuesday.”
Slidell had placed his palms on his knees to push to his feet. He held in that position, brows now furrowed deeply. “Is that unusual?”
“Yes. Though she’s working through some issues right now.”
A frozen moment, then he stood. Birdie skittered out of his path, slunk back to lick more meltwater from the floor.
“What do you plan to do now?” I rose.
“First off, I’ll take a hard look at Hunt, check into his past, his associates, his clients, his financials. Then I’ll circle back to Sanchez and dig up everything I can on Boldonado and his pal Smith. Maybe revisit Bus Acres.”
“I’ll try to find out who’s been accessing ME files.”
Slidell nodded once, short and quick.
“In the meantime, don’t go out tripping the light fantastic.”
With that, he was gone.
Slidell was uncharacteristically true to his word. He called around five that afternoon. And, characteristically, launched in without greeting.
“Big surprise. Smith ain’t Smith. The Gaston County property is deeded to a Bobby Karl Kramden.”
“Bobby Karl Smith. Bobby Karl Kramden. Guy’s not too creative.”
“You wanna hear this?” Sharp.
My upper molars reached for my lowers.
“Kramden served twice in the Gulf War, left the army after seven years on a section eight.”
“I don’t think that designation exists anymore.”
“Whatever. The guy was mental. Based on Buspalooza, looks like he still is.”
“PTSD?”
“Yeah. He sought treatment via one of the Veterans Affairs Departments in Gaston County—there are three—after six months gave up and fell off the radar.”
“He owns the land where he’s burying the buses.”
“Kramden’s grandfather, also Bobby Karl, bought the acreage when Hoover sat in the oval. That and a lot of other properties, homes, and businesses. Appears grandad was a depression predator. But his son, Benny, deeply into single malt, was not so good with figures. Over the years Benny lost everything but the hunk of dirt where Bobby Karl the younger is burying his buses.”
“Kramden’s a prepper?”
“Big time.”
“That’s what Cougar Piccitelli said.”
“Boldonado’s another story. A guy up the road from ‘Bus Acres’ said he was also a loner, touchy about his height, but otherwise a nice enough guy. Said Boldonado bought into Kramden’s survivalist bullshit. That Bobby Karl let him hang around but treated him like a stray mongrel.”
“Did anyone know where Boldonado lived?”
