“So, it was chance that you ended up at that ranch today and found that body?”
“I just told you how we got there.We were looking at the place where they found Brennon’s body.We got shot at.We followed the tracks back here.”
“Why?”
For a moment, Jem didn’t say anything.“I literally just told you.”
“Does the name Rydel Welker mean anything to you?”
“No.Who’s that?Oh fuck, is that the guy who shot at us?”
“How about this man?”Trevino produced a photo.“Have you seen him?”
The man in the picture was White, maybe in his early thirties, with dark hair cut short and dark eyes.He had a mustache and heavy scruff, and freckles sprinkled his nose.He was dressed casually—a trucker jacket, a T-shirt—and the photo had been taken outside, but he stared directly into the camera as though he’d been asked to pose.
“No,” Jem said.He tried to compare this man to the ones from the campground, but he couldn’t see a resemblance.“Is this Rydel Welker?”
Trevino and Van Cleave traded a look.
“Mr.Berger, I’m going to be very clear with you right now,” Trevino said.“If you don’t stay out of this investigation, I’m going to arrest you.Do you understand me?”
“I understand you’d still be scratching your asses in South Jordan if Tean and I hadn’t come here.That’s what I understand.”
Trevino rose.
“Did you figure out who tried to kill us?”Jem asked.“Is it this Rydel guy?Is that his ranch or something?”
In an official tone that almost sounded bored, Trevino said, “This is an ongoing investigation, Mr.Berger.”
“It was when Tean brought up the scars, wasn’t it?That’s what did it.”
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“And that means that fucker Zeb or Zed or whatever his name was, it had to be him, because he was the only one close enough to hear us.”
“Be quiet,” Van Cleave said.
“You’re interfering in my investigation,” Trevino said as though he hadn’t spoken.
“Did you talk to him?”Jem asked.“Fuck, what are you even doing right now?”
Van Cleave put his hands on the table and leaned down.“Stop talking.”
“And if you continue to interfere—” Trevino said.
“You need to get out there and find him,” Jem said.“He’s probably gone by now.How are you this fucking bad at your jobs?”
“Mr.Berger—” Trevino said.
“We talked to him,” Van Cleave said.“And he gave up his brother, so don’t tell me we’re bad at our jobs.”
The look on Trevino’s face was murder.Even Van Cleave seemed to realize he’d said too much; he shrank back from the table, not meeting Trevino’s gaze.
“What the fuck does that mean?”Jem asked.“You caught somebody?No fucking way.You wouldn’t be in here busting my balls.”
“We’re done here,” Trevino said to Van Cleave.To Jem, she said, “We’re keeping the truck for processing, but your vehicle is in the parking lot outside.I suggest you go straight home.”
26
