Father John got into the Toyota and negotiated his way back through the parking lot and out onto the street, where he jammed down the accelerator, willing the old pickup to go faster. He drove north through Lander, staring past the wipers moving back and forth, back and forth, taking the intersections as the lights turned red, the voice in the confessional loud in his head: There’s gonna be more murders.
He made a left into the parking lot that wrapped around the convenience store where he’d met Ali a couple days ago. The Toyota’s tires squealed to a stop near the entrance. He jumped out and pushed through the double-glass doors, taking in the whole store at a glance: the young woman herding two kids past the candy racks, the red-faced, bald-headed man at the counter where the girl had been.
“I’m looking for Ali Burris.” He walked over to the counter.
“Well, now . . .” The man’s thick fingers drummed on the glass countertop. “Better get in line. Lots of people wanna find that little Indian gal.”
“When do you expect her?”
“Who can say?” He shrugged. The tapping harder now. “Supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. You see her anywhere?” He gave a mock look around the store.
“I’m Father O’Malley from the reservation,” Father John said. “Ali could be in trouble. Have you tried calling her?”
“Now, if I had a number, I’d be on the goddamned phone, wouldn’t I? Telling her to get her ass over here. Got me a meeting I’m supposed to be at. It don’t make me happy to hang around waiting for her to come dragging in here whenever she gets good and ready. Time don’t mean nothing to them Indians.”
Father John struggled to ignore the remark. “Tell Ali to call me at St. Francis when she comes in,” he said.
“Oh, I’m gonna have a lot of things to tell that bit—” The man bit his lower lip over the word. The red in his cheeks deepened. “I ever see her again, that is.”
Father John started for the door, then turned back. “What do you mean, I should get in line? Who else is looking for Ali?”
The man shook his head, as if the answer was obvious. “Couple boyfriends come around. White guys she picked up in Denver, my guess. One of ’em comes in here twirling his sunglasses, even though it’s raining cats and dogs outside, like he was a hotshot movie producer. Wanted to know where Ali was.”
Father John stepped back to the counter, conscious of the tension gathering inside him. “When?”
“Maybe thirty minutes ago. Just before she was supposed to come in. I told him to hang around, she’d be showing up. Sure got that wrong.” He shrugged again.
“What did the guy look like?” Father John heard the tightness in his voice.
“Like anybody.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Some guy, that’s all. Couple inches taller than me—about six feet, dark hair, blue sport coat, fancy loafers. Twirling those sunglasses.”
Father John drew in a long breath. The tension was like a pit in his throat that he couldn’t swallow. The description matched Eddie’s description of Buck Wentworth.
“What about the other guy? You said there were two.”
“Stayed outside.” The man nodded toward the window and the parking lot beyond. “I seen him out there. Had on a red baseball jacket, that’s all I know.”
That would be Delaney. The pieces were falling into place now.
“What were they driving?”
“What’s this all about?”
“Just tell me.”
The man rolled his eyes again and shrugged. “One sweet SUV, white, riding high.” He leaned over the counter and shot a glance toward the woman and kids still hovering around the candy section. “You wanna know what got me?”
He paused, then said something about not being able to figure out what a couple of white guys in an expensive rig like the SUV seen in that little Indian gal.
Father John heard only part of it, a buzz of background noise to his own thoughts. Wentworth and Delaney had shown up just as Ali was due to come in. They were waiting for her in the parking lot. She never reached the store.
Okay, he told himself. You don’t know that for a fact. Think rationally, logically. Eddie and the girl aren’t stupid. They could have spotted the white SUV earlier and gone to the res together to hide out a while. They could both be safe.
“What else did he say?” Father John kept his voice low, controlled.
“Funny thing.” The man had begun tapping the counter again. “Just asked when she was supposed to be here, then went on outside. Didn’t leave no messages, if that’s what you mean. Like he was gonna see her before I did.”