P Tracy - Snow Blind

The paper in front of her was filled with the scribbled notes she’d taken during Detective Rolseth’s call. Just looking at them gave her a headache.

The upside was that if this Kurt Weinbeck character really was Steve Doyle’s murderer – and by all accounts, it sounded like he was – her first homicide was already solved. The bad news was, he was still loose, probably somewhere in her county, stalking one of her citizens, and it was ultimately her responsibility to catch him before he could murder anybody else.

Her butt sank so far into the cushy chair that she felt like she was being swallowed, and her feet didn’t touch the floor. Surely a sign from on high if ever there was one. She didn’t fit in the chair, she didn’t fit in the office, she didn’t fit in the job. The last bite went down like a dry brick, peanut butter sticking to her throat.

By the time she got downstairs Sampson was already in the lobby, and the Minneapolis detectives were coming through the front door. Magozzi gave her a nod of recognition, and Iris nodded back. That, she decided, was the secret to communicating with men. Whenever possible, use signals instead of words. Words just confused them.

Magozzi was thinking that Iris Rikker was looking a little worn around the edges, and small wonder. First day as sheriff of a peaceful rural county, and already she had one body, and maybe a murderer hanging around, trying to raise the count to two. No way she could have bargained for that when she put her name on the ticket.

Sampson, on the other hand, seemed surprisingly nonchalant. He looked up from retying his boots. ‘I called Julie Albright, let her know we were coming.’

Gino was stamping his boots on a doormat that was already soaking wet. ‘Our guy talked to her, said we might have a tough time talking her into protective custody.’

‘You got that right. She thinks she’s safe in Bitterroot.’

Gino’s thoughts went back to the airport parking lot two days ago, when they were pulling a half-dead woman out of a trunk. She’d thought she was safe, too. ‘No place is safe when you’ve got one of these bastards going after a woman, and this one’s worse than most, because he’s willing to kill other people to get to her. We all need to be on the same page when we talk to Julie Albright or we’re never going to get her under the wing.’

Sampson straightened and shifted his utility belt under his parka. ‘The thing is, I’m not so sure we’ve got anyplace half as secure as where she is right now. Take a look at Bitterroot first; see what you think. You ever been out there, Sheriff?’

Iris shook her head, sticking to her new signaling plan.

‘I’ll drive, then. You might want to ride with us, Detectives. It’s kind of tricky to find unless you know the back roads.’

‘Fine by me,’ Magozzi said. ‘How far away is this town?’

‘It isn’t a town, it’s a corporation.’ Sheriff Rikker was having trouble with the zipper on her parka, and it was frustrating her. ‘According to Lieutenant Sampson, some of the employees live on site. Julie Albright is one of them.’

‘Ten minutes as the crow flies,’ Sampson said. ‘Twenty in a car.’

‘You know, I never got that.’ Gino was eyeing a bakery bag sitting on the dispatch counter. ‘If a crow always gets someplace faster, why didn’t they just follow the crows when they were building the roads?’ His stomach growled noisily, making Sampson smile.

‘Too many lakes, too many swamps. Roads up here twist like crazy going around them. Half the time even the locals need a compass to know which way they’re going. Grab that bag, will you, Detective? Sounds like we all missed lunch.’

Gino actually put his hand over his heart, a gesture only food could inspire.

Ten minutes later Sampson was powering the big county SUV down a narrow, curving road with ten-foot snowbanks towering on either side. Sheriff Rikker was next to him, clutching her pocketbook as if it were an airbag; Magozzi and Gino were in the backseat, which was just the way Gino liked it. Way he figured, the people in the front would get it first when they ran smack-dab into one of those snowbanks. He leaned forward and breathed jelly bismarck into the front seat.

‘This is supposed to be a road? What happens if we meet a car going the other way?’

‘Plenty of room.’ Sampson braked hard just before a sharp curve and they fishtailed for a second. ‘Looks narrower than it is because the snow’s so high.’

Gino snorted, not believing that for a minute. To a pair of eyes used to a six-lane city freeway, it looked like they were driving down the white throat of some enormous monster.

‘And it’s a good road,’ Sampson added. ‘Gross-weight standards up for eighteen-wheelers, what with all the shipping they do out of here.’

‘You’re telling me we could meet a semi on this cow path?’

‘Probably not on a Sunday.’

‘Seems like a pretty out-of-the-way location for a business. You’d think they’d locate on a major road, instead of back here in the toolies. Anybody want to split the last bismarck?’

Ten minutes later the road uncoiled a little and Magozzi and Gino could see a tall cyclone fence that stretched as far as they could see in either direction. It was even more interesting when they got closer.

Magozzi nudged Gino with his elbow. ‘Look at the top of that fence.’

Gino leaned over his partner and peered out the window. ‘Huh? What are those thingamajigees?’

‘Looks like the cameras Grace has mounted all around her place.’

‘Oh, great. A whole corporation as paranoid as Grace MacBride. What the hell do they make here, Sheriff?’

Iris was staring out at the fence and the cameras mounted every twenty feet or so, mystified by all the security. ‘As far as I know, organic products. Food, cosmetics, things like that. I’ve ordered a few things from their website.’

‘Looks more like a military installation, if you ask me. Or maybe a prison… Jesus, look at that.’ They were pulling up to an enormous pair of gates with a brick guardhouse on the left. A small woman in boots and a big parka exited the little building and headed for the car. ‘That woman’s carrying, Leo.’

‘I see that.’

‘They’ve got their own security force.’ Sampson rolled down his window. ‘All of them have permits to carry.’

The female guard pushed back the hood on her parka and bent toward the car window, looking past Sampson as if he weren’t there. ‘Sheriff Rikker?’

‘That’s right.’

The woman grinned. ‘Congratulations on the election, Sheriff. Great pleasure to meet you.’

Magozzi thought Iris looked a little flummoxed by the greeting. Or maybe it was the congratulations.

‘Thank you very much.’

‘And will you vouch for your passengers?’

‘Yes, this is Lieutenant Sampson -’

‘Aw, come on, Liz,’ Sampson interrupted. ‘Don’t give me a hard time. The two guys in the back are Minneapolis PD, and they won’t give you their weapons, either. I’ll let you frisk me, though, if you want.’

‘Tempting, but I’ll pass. Straight to the office,’ she reminded him.

‘I know the drill.’ He closed the window, waited while one of the electronic gates swung open, then pulled through.

Gino was puzzled. ‘I don’t get it. They knew we were coming, they could see it was a county car, and they stopped us anyway.’

‘They stop everybody. Drives me nuts, but they’re pretty strict about it. Except for Liz. I think she does it just to piss me off.’

‘So every time you get an emergency call out here you’ve got to stop while they check the car? That’s just plain crazy.’

‘Well, the thing is, we never get called out here. Not one call as long as I’ve been on the job, and that’s fifteen years. Only reason I’m a familiar face is that I’ve got a friend who lives here in the residential neighborhood around the back of the complex.’