by Trevor Scott
170
TREVOR SCOTT
When Frank was done talking, and done with the second beer, Tony got them both another and then they both toweled off and changed into sweats and T-shirts. They sat in the living room.
“There’s something more than you’re telling me, Frank.”
He responded with a subdued turning down of his head.
“Tell me about your job with Cascade Lock, and those two guys who shot at us tonight.”
“I don’t know who they are,” he said. “You gotta believe me.”
He wasn’t very convincing. “Well, I don’t.”
Frank thought things over for a minute, and finally said, “I think they’re from Portland. After the Humphrey explosion, I took off back to my place. I get home and find this white Bonneville out front, two guys standing at the door talking with my wife.”
“The next day?”
“Yeah. The next morning.”
“They looked like cops, so I took off.”
That was strange. Why would they have been there so soon?
They had told him Frank was under investigation for a number of robberies in the area, but why come to his place then?
Frank continued. “I came back to Central Oregon, remembered my boss’s place along the Metolius, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“Your boss, Burton, brought you there a few times?” Tony asked.
“Yeah. He’d bring a bunch of us reps there in the fall during hunting season. Of course the only thing we’d hunt was pussy.
We’d get trashed for a few days, make the rounds to Bend and Redmond pick-up joints, and then head home. Last time was October.”
That was interesting. Tony wasn’t a hundred percent sure the two cops hadn’t followed him there somehow, his eyes concentrating on the snowy road, but it was more likely they had finally gotten the location from James Burton at Cascade Lock. If he could track down the guy with his limited resources, it wouldn’t BOOM TOWN 171
have been hard for the Portland cops to do the same thing. But the timing was what bothered him. It was too much of a coincidence to have the two cops and him show up at exactly the same time in a blizzard. No, the more and more he thought about it, they had somehow managed to follow him there. And that pissed off Tony.
172
TREVOR SCOTT
CHAPTER 28
Tony had a hard time sleeping that night. Too much had happened and too many questions were still unanswered.
So when he got up just as the sun was doing the same thing, he was alone for a while drinking his coffee. He had almost forgot-ten he was planning on hopping a flight to San Francisco that day to talk with the software company that was making a bid for Deschutes Enterprises. He made a few phone calls. First he caught Captain Al Degaul at home, told him what had happened, and asked him if he could look into Shabato and Reese more thoroughly. Degaul reluctantly agreed, saying he’d get back with him later in the day. Next, he called the local sheriff and told him he had Frank Peroni with him, what had happened the night before, what he had told him about the night Dan and Barb had died, and asked him if the two Portland cops had talked with him yet. They hadn’t. He told Tony to bring Frank by his office for questioning. Tony agreed.
When he got off the phone with Sheriff Green, he went to the sliding glass door overlooking the golf course. The snow that had fallen the night before glistened as the sun shone off it. If he had been smart, which he was beginning to question, he would have said the hell with it and gone up near Mount Bachelor snow shoeing in the back country. There had to be at least three feet of fresh powder up there, since there was a good foot and a half in Bend.
Hell, he could just take a snow shoe trek across the golf course.
BOOM TOWN 173
As he stood there thinking, he was surprised when there was a knock at the door.
Panzer jumped to his feet and ran to the door, his nose working overtime. Satisfied, the dog walked back to his pad near the fireplace and lay down.
“Some watch dog you are,” Tony said. He went over and peered through the peep hole. Cliff Humphrey. Tony opened the door for him and let him in.
“I’m sorry to stop by so early,” he said. He was wearing one of his fine suits again. Only his pack boots with his wool pants tucked into them looking strangely out of place.
“What can I do for you?”
His eyes turned quickly from Tony to the spare bedroom, as Frank Peroni appeared in his underwear. Make that Tony’s underwear. When Frank saw Humphrey, he avoided eye contact and limped directly to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
“Sorry,” Humphrey said. “I didn’t know you had company.” He started for the door, but Tony grabbed his arm.
“You can stop the act, Frank,” Tony said. “I know the two of you know each other.”
Frank came back with a cup of coffee, sipping once before sitting in a leather chair, his leg over one arm like Tony had found him at the cabin the night before.
Humphrey glanced Tony’s way, unsure what to say. “We barely know each other,” he said. “Mr. Peroni won a few bids on our developments. That’s it.”
What else could there have been? Tony looked at Frank.
Frank shrugged and said, “Mr. Humphrey threw a few bucks my way.”
“Did you know that Dan was his son?” Tony asked him.
“Not until we got to the house,” Frank said. “I remembered checking the place out for its lock needs.”
“What’s this about?” Humphrey said, confused.
Reluctantly, Tony told him what Frank Peroni had said the night before, leaving out some of the more sordid details. When 174
TREVOR SCOTT
he was done, Cliff Humphrey looked shocked but also a little relieved.
“Then he didn’t do it,” Humphrey said, relieved. “I told you. I knew my boy couldn’t kill anyone.” Then Humphrey turned toward Frank Peroni, his expression changing quickly to anger.
“Why the hell didn’t you come forward?”
Tony stepped between the two of them.
“They were both dead,” Frank said. “What was the point?”
“You little wimp,” Humphrey spit out. “You let everyone in town think my boy killed his wife and then himself...”
Tony put his hand against Humphrey’s chest, feeling something hard, like metal, on his left side. A gun? “Listen. He’s here now.
I’m bringing him to the sheriff to give a statement. Your son will be cleared.” Tony wanted to say it, but thought better of himself for holding back. He wanted to say that he could now collect the insurance from both his son and his daughter-in-law. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “I just need to talk with the company that wanted to buy your son’s software firm. I’ll be leaving for San Francisco in a few hours.”
Humphrey’s expression changed. “That’s why I’m here. The deal is going down today. The representatives from the company are in town, scheduled to meet with Larry Gibson at noon.”
“How’d you find that out?” Tony asked him.
He smiled. “Like I told you. I have sources.” With that, Humphrey headed toward the door, but turned and stopped before leaving. “This isn’t over, Tony. I want you to find my son’s killer. Will you stay on the case?”
What was he going to say, no? Besides, there were too many questions he needed answered. Some, he knew, might have had nothing to do with his son’s death. But he still needed answers, nonetheless. He was curious that way.
Tony opened the door for Cliff Humphrey. “Yeah, I’ll find the killer. I’ve been shot and shot at in the last few days. That tends to piss me off.”
Humphrey smiled as Tony let him out. He probably already BOOM TOWN 175
knew that about Tony. Sources.
Tony dropped Frank Peroni off with the sheriff, escorting him into the office personally. The sheriff had been somewhat reticent. He was probably pissed off that his case, which he had already written off as complete, would now have to be reo
pened.
Tony couldn’t really blame the guy, considering that the physical evidence and witness memories would both be a little stale as time passed. But Tony had given Cliff Humphrey his word that he’d find the killer. A fact he had failed to mention to Sheriff Green.
After leaving the sheriff’s office, Tony made tracks across town through a cluttered downtown toward Deschutes Enterprises. The going was slow. Bend got an average of twenty-five inches of snow a year, usually in piles of six inches or less. When there was more than a foot of the white stuff, the inadequate snow removal system had a rough time trying to find a place to put it.
Consequently, most of the town waited a few days for mother nature to melt it. Now, the snow sat in banks right down the middle of the street. Only those with 4x4s were having any fun getting around.
Tony got to Deschutes Enterprises by eleven and sat in the parking lot scanning the place for rental cars for the San Francisco delegation. Nothing. He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do. Should he try to stop the deal? Or should he simply try to delay it until he could sort out everything?
Some things were starting to come together for him, but there were still nagging questions that wouldn’t go away. Like why Shabato and Reese started shooting without so much as a simple discussion? And what did Don Sanders and his dead horse have to do with anything? Worst of all, perhaps, was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him his client, Cliff Humphrey, was trying to play him for a dupe.
Tony had some time to kill before the meeting, so he drove out to Don Sanders’ place to ask him a few questions. The man was 176
TREVOR SCOTT
there and even a little more calm than the last time he had left him crying over his dead mare. Having only a couple of quick questions for him, Tony was there only a few minutes before driving back into town.
Before going to the meeting, he detoured by Three Sisters Realty. Melanie Chadwick was in her office and more than a little surprised to see him.
“Tony, what are you doing here?” she asked.
He closed the door behind him and paced a few times across her Berber carpet. He thought about the crunch under his feet when he had been out at the burned shell of Barb and Dan Humphrey’s former house.
“Tell me something,” Tony started, turning and looking her directly in the eye. “Why were you checking up on me for Cliff Humphrey?”
She had risen from her chair when Tony entered, and now she sunk back into it, looking much like a young child sitting in her father’s chair. “I don’t understand the question.”
Shaking his head, Tony tried to make it more clear for her.
“Why were you looking into me?”
She shrugged. “Cliff and I go way back. He’s sent a lot of business my way. When your old Navy friend said you were coming, Cliff asked me if I’d check into your background. He leaves nothing to chance.”
“Did he tell you to fuck me?”
She said nothing.
“There’s plenty more back-scratching to come,” Tony yelled at her.
She seemed confused by his anger. “What’s your problem?
That’s the way business is done.”
“You have a lot to gain from that destination resort.”
“So.”
“So, maybe you had too much to gain.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You and Cliff had a deal going there. First, you sell him the BOOM TOWN 177
land, making a nice commission. Then you broker an exclusive deal to sell lots at his resort, and probably even the homes themselves.”
She let out a deep breath and seemed to sink farther into the chair. “You just summed up the nature of my business. So what?”
Tony thought for a minute. She was right. So what? What did it all mean? It wasn’t likely that she had had anything to do with trying to break the back of Don Sanders by having his place wiped out and his mare killed. And did any of this have anything to do with the murder of Dan and Barb? He had no evidence to support that. Without saying another word, he drifted toward the door.
“You think I had something to do with Dan and Barb?” she yelled at him.
Tony heard the chair slam back and Melanie rushing toward him. When he turned, it was just in time to block her flailing arms striking at his head as she screamed obscenities at him. He finally caught both arms, but failed to deflect her right knee coming up sharply into his groin. The impact was enough to put him on his knees and let go of her hands. It felt like his balls were up in his throat fighting for position with his Adam’s apple. Somehow he expected her to realize she had made an error and start consoling him. What he didn’t expect was the business end of the sharp toe of her cowboy boots. After the third or fourth kick to the ribs, he finally managed to catch her foot and flip her to her butt.
Tony rolled over and landed right between her legs and then shuffled his body onto hers and pinned her to the carpet. It took every once of power to hold her still.
The door swung open and the secretary poked her head around to see what all the racket was about. Melanie and Tony both turned to look at her.
“Oh,” the secretary said. “It sounded like something else.” She closed the door behind her.
Melanie started laughing and her arms and legs loosened up.
178
TREVOR SCOTT
Tony rolled over and tried to rearrange the boys, unsure if laughter was the appropriate thing at this point.
“She actually thought this was rough sex,” she said, and then laughed even louder.
Tony sat up, still holding his nuts.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s not funny. It’s just...funny.”
She laughed again.
Tony was starting to look for a camera, thinking he might end up on one of those blooper shows Frank Peroni’s wife liked so much. Maybe even win some money. He made it to his feet and she reached her arms up. The expression on her face confused him. Embarrassed indifference. Or was it disgusted repugnance?
Nonetheless, he helped her to her feet and they stared at each other for a moment, unsure how to heal the situation. And, at least on Tony’s part, uncertain if it was worth the effort.
Finally, he said, “Do you know what it’s like when someone does that to you? Of course you don’t. How could you?”
“My ex tried to explain it to me a few times.” She smiled.
“A few times? And you divorced him?”
“Yeah, it’s a strange world we live in, Tony. I hope I didn’t do any permanent damage.”
Tony went for the door again, grabbed the handle, and noticed something one more time. The lock. It was a Cascade. She was right behind him, her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I really am. Can we still be friends?” She snuggled against his shoulder. “Or more than that?”
This woman was psycho. First she knees his homeboys, and then she wants to put the master of the house back in action. He shook his head as he opened the door.
“Let me think about it,” Tony said. He knew it was a lame thing to say. On reflection, he had probably said a lot of lame things to women who he had no intention of seeing again. It’s a curse that he would have to take with him to the grave.
Closing the door behind him, Tony got the hell out of there as fast as he could, trying his best to keep his balls from bashing BOOM TOWN 179
against his legs. He thought he heard the canned laughter of feminism wafting up from the den of estrogen behind him. Maybe his one good ear was playing tricks on him. He drove off toward the meeting, thinking at the time that not much worse could go wrong for the day.
180
TREVOR SCOTT
CHAPTER 29
There he sat again in front of Deschutes Enterprises. Afew cars in the lot screamed of rental. Checking his watch, he saw it was closing in on noon. Tony got out and made his way up the slippery walk, still trying to recover from the groin shot from Melanie.
&n
bsp; The receptionist, Susie, met him with a smile as he entered. The nose ring was gone, Tony noticed. Perhaps that wasn’t the image Larry Gibson wanted to impress on the new buyers from San Francisco.
“How are you, Mr. Caruso?” Susie asked.
“Been better.” He glanced toward Larry Gibson’s office. The door was open, but from what he could tell the place was empty.
“Is Mr. Gibson in?”
She shuffled some papers on her desk, trying her best not to look at him. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “He’s in a meeting.”
“I know that. I just need to know where. The conference room.
I’ll bet that’s right down this way.” Tony moved around her desk toward a room with windows to the floor. There were curtains closed, but he guessed that’s where the show was, since he could hear voices as he got closer. Susie caught up to him and grabbed his jacket.
“Please, Mr. Caruso,” she pleaded. “I’ll lose my job.”
Tony stopped and faced her. “Are you innocent in all this?”
“What do you mean?”
BOOM TOWN 181
“Why’d you give the Blazers tickets to Don Sanders?”
Her eyes rose sharply and Tony had his answer. She was speechless, so he left her there with a stupid look on her face and barged into the conference room.
Tony was sure there must have been a better way to confront the situation. Especially after he saw the looks on the faces of those in their nice suits, gathered around the oval oak table. Larry Gibson looked like a middle linebacker on PCP, his eyes the size of walnuts. The three from the Bay Area looked confused.
“What in the hell are you doing here, Caruso?” Gibson forced out. He looked beyond Tony at his perplexed receptionist. “I told you no interruptions.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But he’s a little bigger than me.” With that, she closed Tony into the room as she slammed the door.
One of the three men from San Francisco turned to Gibson.
“What’s this about?”
“Do I need to call the sheriff, Caruso?”
“Please do.” Tony directed his gaze on the apparent leader of the San Francisco contingent. It all came to him in a rush. “Sir, I’d like you to know that any deal signed today will be stuck in probate for years.”