“Probably not. Somebody will find that truck in the next few hours, but the sooner the better, as far as making a murder case. How about an anonymous call?”
Denny nods.
“Okay, then. I’ll handle it.”
“How? There’s no pay phones anymore.”
With my burner phone, of course, I think. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” he says skeptically. “So what’s next?”
I start to ask him what he means, but I know. And I’m glad. Because though Denny’s only fourteen, he has a resource I can’t easily replace.
“I’ve got a feeling I know where Buck was really digging last night. And it wasn’t that cave.”
Denny’s eyes light up. “Where?”
“The new paper mill site, in the industrial park. I think we could use a little aerial surveillance out there. Check for signs of recent digging.”
“But you said they have the groundbreaking ceremony there today.”
I glance at my watch. “In an hour and a half. The time for an overflight is this afternoon. Can you meet me out there later if I call your mother and make sure it’s okay?”
“You bet your ass! I mean—no problem.”
“Thanks, Denny. You need a ride home?”
“Nah. I’m good. Going over to the depot for some food.”
“Okay.” I pat him on the shoulder and start back in the direction of the Flex, but he stops me by calling my name.
“What is it?” I ask, turning back.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely worried.
“Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking about something that happened a long time ago.”
Denny Allman doesn’t look puzzled or even curious. He works his mouth around for a few seconds, then says, “Your brother?”
So he does know. “Yeah. Who told you about that?”
“My mom.”
Of course. “I figured.”
“She said it was the worst thing that ever happened in this town.”
That doesn’t surprise me. “That’s what it felt like, at the time. Actually, some pretty bad things have happened in this town since it was founded.”
Denny bites his bottom lip and looks at the ground. “Maybe one happened last night, huh?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. You get home and do your schoolwork. I’ll call your mom later on.”
Before I turn to go, the hornet humming of the drone sounds above us, and Denny’s DJI quad-rotor descends rapidly on autopilot, hovers for a few seconds, then slowly lands thirty yards away from us.
He grins proudly. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“Pretty cool.”
Chapter 7
After leaving Denny Allman near the old railroad depot, I walk back to the Flex and start the engine but leave it in Park. My anonymous call made, the rush of discovering Buck’s pickup has already faded. Seeing my surrogate father dragged from the river has left a deep shadow over me, one I sense will not pass for a long time.
I have an hour and fifteen minutes to wait before the groundbreaking ceremony for the new paper mill, but I have no desire to go back to the office. I’m craving coffee, but I’m in no condition to go to Nadine’s, which is where I usually spend my morning coffee break. Nadine Sullivan is about ten times more perceptive than Denny Allman, and I don’t want her picking at my soul until I get my defenses back up. The thing about kicking open a door to the past is that sometimes what’s behind it comes out under its own power. You can try to run, but no matter how fast you do, you’re dragging your demons behind you. At a certain point, you might as well stop, turn, and let them roll over you, enfold you. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll die in the light of day.
Quinn Ferris’s accusations about the Bienville Poker Club still ring in my ears, but I don’t care to think about that right now. I’ll see those guys at the groundbreaking, where there’ll be plenty of time to study them in their native environment. Putting the Flex in gear, I drive slowly north along the bluff, skirting the edge of town, moving toward the Garden District, where six blocks of lovingly preserved Victorians stand between the commercial district and the high ground of the city cemetery. As I drive, I realize that despite being back in Bienville for five months, I’ve yet to go out to the cemetery once.
Soon after losing sight of the bluff, I turn left onto Hallam Avenue, which will carry me through the Garden District to Cemetery Road, which runs west-to-east from the graveyard to the eastern forests of Tenisaw County. Two- and three-story gingerbread houses drift past on both sides