Page 46 of It Takes a Thief

Galileo and I were heading south in my Jeep. After Ellis had confided in us that the girl Ashlynne had been stabbed to death either shortly before or after being raped—I really hoped the former—I had thought about Moss Empire and his skin wallet. Then Galileo had mentioned Moss was ten days late on his rent, giving us an excuse to cruise down there.

Ellis told us the girl had two fingers on a hand fused, meaning she was a victim of uranium poisoning. Maybe the kidnaper had decided she was damaged goods, worthless to him.

“Yes, he’s shown it to me. I assumed he was kidding. Just something to say to pass time in the middle of a meth deal.”

Was he serious? I’d learned in the past several weeks that Galileo seemed to be as serious as dick cancer. “Well, it’s just something I’ve got a hunch about, is all. If Moss Empire didn’t kill Ashlynne, then he knows who did. I’ve learned this sort of shit by being part of an MC.”

“Do you guys… deal with a lot of murders?”

“Yes. And I’m constantly around people who are lying, whether it’s in the MC or in the political world of Pure and Easy. Or in my job, come to think about it. Women are always lying about how they got broken bones or bruises.”

“Battered women make me sad.” Galileo always had sad eyes, downturned at the edges as though filled with tears. “My mother was battered by the outside world. Do you really think Moss Empire could be involved in this? He doesn’t have a maroon van.”

“Well, you never fucking know. He had some bizarre porn cartoons on his walls when I went inside his trailer to pee.”

“Oh, those.” Galileo looked amused. “I always thought those were, you know, Japanese art. Whimsical manga drawings.”

I made a lip fart. “Whimsical, my ass! Have you ever seen a real Jetsons cartoon? Or the Simpsons? It’s not normal stuff to pervert these hallowed characters like that. I’m surprised at you, Galileo. You must know that this Moss guy is twisted in some way.”

Galileo turned his whole body in the car seat so he faced me. “Oh, of course I know that anyone who did that to Ashlynne is sick! I’ll do anything to have your back, Madison. I’ll scalp the murderer with a tomahawk if I need to! I’ll kill all those bilagáana motherfuckers if needs be. I’ll murder them barehanded, with guns or sticks!”

I tried to scoff. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, Galileo. I’m sure going through the proper channels will be sufficient. Let’s just see what we find at his trailer.”

But Galileo was on a roll. “I’m a whacky half-Navajo sonofabitch myself. Who knows what to expect from me? I’m capable of anything when riled.”

“Well, that’s good,” I said uncertainly. “We’ll need people like you on our side. Hey, another tribal police car going the wrong way.”

Indeed, a tribal cop passed us heading north. We had passed some federal, state and county officers, all swarming in different directions. They had no dearth of suspects to chase down. Their first targets were all the men who were registered sex offenders. That list was surprisingly long. They used Ashlynne’s seven-year-old brother as an unreliable witness to cull out the guys who were definitely not our man. And there was no one with a maroon van on the Rez, so they were starting to search for it in Gallup and Holbrook.

“I don’t see his motorcycle,” said Galileo as Moss’ rented trailer came into view.

“Good,” I said. Galileo had his key, and we’d agreed that if we were busted, Galileo could say he was checking a water leak, or someone had seen smoke coming from a window.

I hung a U-ie in the sand so I was facing the correct way in case we needed to make a fast getaway. I decided against leaving the keys in the ignition, putting them in my front jeans pocket instead.

“Okay, remember,” I whispered to Galileo, although there was no one else there, as far as we knew. “We’re looking for a murder weapon with a heavy metal tip about half an inch wide.”

“Sounds like a tire iron,” Galileo whispered back.

I frowned. “What’s that?”

“It’s a heavy metal implement that you—”

“Never mind. I don’t think anyone uses those anymore. It could be anything, really. Hammer. Screwdriver. Oh wait, not that. Could be some statue from his mantel.”

“If he had a mantel,” said Galileo jovially, knocking on the front door just in case.

I said, “We don’t even know it’s Moss. I’m just saying he’s highly creepy. And you told me about that time a few months ago you found some young girls up here inside his trailer.”

“Yes, he claimed he was giving them a ride home from a basketball game when they swung by here to look at some cartoons.”

I made a sour face. “Not a very good alibi.”

Galileo looked like something had just dawned on him. “Oh… cartoons…”

“Okay, no one’s here. Use your key.”

“Oh, this makes me so nervous,” he said. His hand trembled as he fit the key into the lock.