3

Eldon and Brenda Cates sat in hard-backed chairs across from Sheriff Reed’s desk in his office. Joe stood off to the side with his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the radiator. He’d agreed to observe only and to not ask questions. Dulcie Schalk, the county prosecutor, had taken a side chair next to Reed’s desk. She’d positioned herself in such a way as to keep a close eye on both Joe and the Cateses.

Eldon asked, “Has April said what happened to her?”

Sheriff Reed shook his head. “Not yet. She wasn’t conscious when we found her.”

“That’s what we figured,” Eldon said, and he and Brenda exchanged knowing glances. “Because if she could talk she’d a told you our boy Dallas didn’t have nothing to do with it.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Reed said.

“We can guess what you all might be thinking,” Eldon said. “But it ain’t like that. When your guys came out and told us what’d happened, we figured we ought to come in here right away and nip this in the bud.” When he said it, he cast a quick look toward Joe.

Eldon was tall and rawboned, with broad shoulders and a weather-beaten face. He had thin straw-colored hair and a heavy lantern jaw. His hands were large and red and crablike, and it appeared to Joe that Eldon didn’t know what to do with them when he was seated. First they were on his lap, then rested on his thighs, then hanging down on either side like twin slabs of meat in a cooler. He wore a heavy wool hunting shirt, worn jeans, and lace-up high-heeled outfitter boots for riding that were covered with years of bloodstains from dead deer, antelope, and elk.

“What is it you think we’re thinking?” Reed asked without a hint of aggressiveness.

Eldon glanced at Joe again, then at Dulcie. He said, “That Dallas might have had something to do with this.”

“Why would we think that?” Dulcie asked.

She was tightly coiled, as always. Dulcie Schalk was in her mid-thirties, with soft, dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a trim, athletic figure. She was dressed in a dark suit with a ruffled white blouse. She was single and considered one of the prime catches in Twelve Sleep County, although there were rumors about her sexual preference. Joe had once wondered as well, until she’d asked him some provocative questions about his friend Nate Romanowski. Dulcie was tough and thorough, and never went to court unless she was absolutely convinced she had the evidence to obtain a conviction. Her success rate was more than ninety-five percent, and she’d recently won her first reelection.

“Because that’s how you people think,” Eldon said in answer to Dulcie’s question. He leaned back and said, “You people sit up here and look down on the little people out in the county just trying to make a living.”

Reed reacted with scorn and shook his head. He said, “I’m the sheriff of the whole county, Eldon. I’m not just sheriff of Saddlestring.”

Dulcie said to Eldon, “I don’t believe at this point a single accusation has been made, so I hope we can put your prejudices and assumptions aside and start over. We’re just in an information-gathering phase. Now, from what I understand, you two volunteered to come in here. We want to hear what you have to say.”

“So we can rule things out,” Reed added.

Eldon nodded slightly. He had heavy-lidded eyes and virtually no expression. Brenda looked over at him approvingly but had yet to say a word.

Brenda Cates was heavy, with a round face and permed auburn hair. She wore a faded blue dress and heavy sensible shoes, and she clutched her overlarge purse on her lap with both hands. Her face was hangdog, jowly, matronly pleasant at first glance. She looked like the type of woman who baked lots of cookies and took in stray cats, Joe thought. She wore no makeup.

Joe couldn’t figure out why Reed had suggested she was the one to watch instead of Eldon.

Eldon looked over to Joe again and said directly to him, “I should’a said earlier we’re just both real damned sorry about what happened to your girl.”

“Thank you,” Joe said.

Eldon said, “Dallas feels damned bad, too. He’d have been here if he wasn’t so buggered up. He’s got busted ribs and a shitload of other injuries from the Houston Rodeo last week. He drew a bull that pounded the crap outta him. That bull got him down on the arena floor and threw him around like a cat playing with a mouse. Them bullfighters tried to get him out, but you know how a bull is when its mind is made up. We seen it on TV and it was a damned bad wreck.”

Brenda visibly shuddered and clutched her purse even tighter when she seemed to recall viewing the ride.

“So Dallas has been home awhile?” Reed asked.

“Yes, sir,” Eldon said.

“Was April here with him?”

“Nope.”

“Where was she?” Reed asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Eldon said. “Dallas said she took off a while back, after they broke up. She left with some other buckle bunnies and he ain’t seen her since.”

Dulcie asked, “Buckle bunnies?”

“That’s what some folks call girls who hang around rodeo cowboys,” Reed told her. “Kind of like rodeo groupies, I guess. You can see ’em strutting around in tight clothes by the ready area during the rodeo. That’s where the cowboys get ready to ride.”

When he realized what he’d said, Reed turned to Joe and mouthed, “Sorry.”

“Buckle bunnies,” Dulcie repeated, shaking her head.

“When was the last time Dallas was with her?” Reed asked.

“Oh, it’s been a while.”

This was all news to Joe, but he kept his promise to Reed and Marybeth and didn’t speak. As far as he and his wife knew, April had been with Dallas since she’d left months ago. The idea of April traveling with a pack of girls from rodeo to rodeo—being known as a buckle bunny—made his stomach lurch.

“What is ‘a while’?” Reed asked Eldon.

The man looked back at him dully, then turned his head toward Brenda. Joe saw her nod quickly to him, as if prodding him on.

“A few weeks, I guess. A while. I don’t know,” Eldon said.

“He’ll be able to tell us?” Reed asked.

“I’m sure he will,” Eldon said.

“So how long has he been home with you after his injury?”

“’Bout a week,” Eldon said. Then something went even deader in his face. Brenda glared at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“A week?” Joe asked. “I thought I heard you say it was a couple of days.”

Eldon didn’t even move his head when Joe spoke.

“Joe,” Reed said, “we had a deal. I ask the questions.”

Joe looked to the sheriff with an exasperated Then ask them look. Dulcie carefully observed Eldon and Brenda Cates.

“Which is it, then?” Reed said. “A couple of days or a week? It’s important that we know.”

He didn’t go on, but Joe thought everyone in the room knew what he was saying. If Dallas had been home a week, that meant he’d been injured during the first few days of the Houston Rodeo and was at home recovering while April was . . . out there somewhere. But if he’d just returned home the day before, he could have had April with him. Until he didn’t.

Brenda put her hand on Eldon’s thigh. It shut him up. She took over. She said, “Do you know why some people call my husband ‘Snake’ when his real first name is Eldon?”

“No,” Reed said, “but I don’t know what that has to do with this.”

“They call him Snake because he has a strange gift for being bitten by rattlers,” she said. Brenda had a husky voice, but it was smooth and convincing, Joe thought. “How many times have you been bitten by rattlesnakes, Eldon?” she asked her husband.