“Then who the fuck is it?”Jem said.“This is what you were talking about, isn’t it?The pressure.That pressure kept building.He didn’t get what he wanted with Brennon.He didn’t get it with Daniel.”
Tean didn’t answer.He knelt to inspect the body.Bite marks covered the man’s chest and arms; without appropriate testing, Tean couldn’t be positive, but he thought the injuries looked post-mortem.The T-shirt hid most of the man’s neck, but when Tean looked at the back, he could see bruises that suggested manual strangulation.
He wasn’t sure he could speak, but someone with his voice said, “We need to call the police now.”
Jem nodded.“I’m going to finish taking a look around.”
As Tean placed the call to 911, Jem made his way to the back of the barn.He tried one of the big doors, and with a loud squeak, it swung open.Jem stumbled, caught by surprise, but recovered and kept his footing.He gave the door another shove, and more of the watery daylight flooded in.
“Nine-one-one,” an older man said into Tean’s ear.“What is your emergency?”
But for a moment, all Tean could do was stare at the white Ford that had been hidden behind the barn.The big chip in the paint on the hood.The wonky antenna.The license plate, of course.And the tag indicating this truck was property of the Division of Wildlife Resources.
25
The cops came.They were locals, from the nearby town of Roosevelt, and the first one to arrive was a man in his thirties who had mustard at the corner of his mouth.An older man showed up next, in shoes that clearly hurt his feet.And then the classic model arrived: salt-and-pepper high-and-tight, a trim little beaver cleaner on his upper lip, barking orders at everyone.
Jem knew the type.
The cops separated him and Tean.They asked a lot of questions and then put them in the back of separate cars.And then, after a while, the cop with the bad arch support and the one who’d been eating turkey and mustard drove them out of there.
They ended up inside the Roosevelt municipal building, where the police station was located.Their escort stuck Tean in an interview room and cuffed Jem to a chair.Next to a desk.With paperclips and everything.When the turkey-and-mustard guy had to go to the john, Jem palmed several of the paperclips.You never knew when things could go wrong.
When Jem asked, he got water in one of those paper cones, and then coffee.A woman with glasses that made her look like the owl from the Tootsie Pop commercials took some in to Tean, as well.
And then the SBI showed up.
Trevino had hollows under her eyes the size of teacups, and there was something ragged about her appearance.On anybody but a cop, Jem would have called that lookstrung out.Van Cleave was flushed and carrying himself like an eighth-grader spoiling for a fight.
“Took you long enough,” Jem said.
“Where’s the other one?”Trevino barked.
The cop who needed arch supports pointed, and the SBI agents pushed into the interview room.
Jem strained to hear something—anything.Raised voices.The thump of overturned furniture.Tean demanding a lawyer.
Nothing.
They were in there with Tean maybe fifteen minutes.Then Trevino walked Tean out.The doc sagged with fatigue.More than fatigue.His gaze passed over Jem, and he tried a smile, but behind that was the look Jem caught sometimes.Never on the surface.Never right where he could see it.But out of the corner of his eye, maybe.Or like something at the bottom of a swimming pool.It was a look like Tean was staring into something he couldn’t turn away from.
“How are you?”Jem asked as they walked Tean past him.“Tean?”
“They haven’t found Daniel.”Tean sounded like someone had turned off part of his brain.“They don’t have any idea where he is.”
“You,” Van Cleave said, and he grabbed Jem’s arm and undid the cuffs.Then he yanked Jem to his feet and marched him toward the interview room.
It was like the hillbilly cousin version of the South Jordan station.The setup was similar: a table, two chairs.But it had scuffed vinyl flooring, a broken doorjamb, and a lightbulb inside a metal cage that hung overhead.It smelled like—well, the closest Jem could come wasstew.
When Trevino came back, she dropped into her seat and said, “Start talking.”
So, Jem told them: trying to figure out why the killer had brought Brennon’s body to the Uinta Basin, and their visit to the UFO campground, and then the attack in the gully.
“Ask any of them,” Jem said as he finished.“Ask that woman, Katie.She’ll tell you.”
“We already talked to the people at the campground,” Trevino said.“What do you know about the ranch?”
“Nothing.”But Trevino just looked at him.“I swear to God.Katie said they don’t like trespassers, that’s the first time I heard of it.”
