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15
Carson couldn’t get her brain around it. “You’re saying you’re this madman’s father?”
The sheriff raised his Beretta, then slowly lowered it again. “Watch your mouth, missy. Rafer’s my brother Quint’s only son, a fine boy, born and raised in Gaffer’s Ridge, not a crazy bone in his body. He runs his pa’s lumber mill and hires out to take tourists rafting on the Snake River. He’s a prominent citizen of Gaffer’s Ridge, you might say. It’s not helping you calling him names like that. Who knows what people will think? I do know his granny would be royally pissed if she were still alive. You’re lucky she passed to the hereafter last April.”
Carson said, “If his granny were alive, I bet she’d be royally pissed. I mean, her own grandson tying up women in his basement.”
The sheriff continued studying them, slowly shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant, missy, and you know it. What you said, that’s plain nonsense. You’d best shut your mouth. Listen to me, Rafer’s the apple of his parents’ eye, he’s his pa’s heir.”
His hand stroked the gun as he spoke. Griffin held very still. This overweight man with the hard face and silver eyes looked ready to shoot them dead right there, if he could get away with it. He wondered who in the family had enough power in this town to get this man elected sheriff. But the sheriff he was, and it wouldn’t help if Griffin told him what he thought of him. The fact was, he and Carson were the strangers here, and Rafer Bodine was this man’s nephew. It was time to try for conciliation. He squeezed Carson’s hand.
To his surprise, she gave a slight nod, and said immediately, “I know this must be difficult for you, Sheriff, and I’m very sorry.” She stuck out her hand. “Actually, I’m Dr. Carson DeSilva, and I’ve only been in Gaffer’s Ridge a day and a half. But what I told you is the truth.”
She held out her hand, but he didn’t take it. He eyed her up and down. “Are you a real doctor, or one of those make-believe doctors who spout crap nobody cares about?”
She gave him a lovely smile. “Make-believe, spouting crap.”
He frowned at her. “Don’t smart-mouth me, missy. I figured as much. Don’t think you can get me to fall for your wiles, no matter how pretty you are, dirty or not. You expect me to believe a stranger talking nonsense about an upstanding Gaffer’s Ridge citizen like Rafer? And where’s your proof? All I’m hearing is your word, and it don’t sound believable at all. I mean, Rafer’s been friends with Buddy Forrester since they were boys. He’s known Heather her whole life. You believe he’d kidnap his friend’s kid sister? It’s crazy.
“And why’d you come here anyway? Are you one of those tree huggers who like to come here to hike and camp? Or are you here looking to buy one of those fancy old furniture pieces my wife is always looking at?”
“You mean antiques?”
“What else could I mean? You look like one of those people here for that old crap. Shysters back in Richmond clean out their attics, spin all sorts of tales, and dump it here for you nut heads to go crazy over. Stuff’s junk, you ask me.”
“No, Sheriff, I’m not here to go antiquing.”
“All right, both of you tell me why you’re here in Gaffer’s Ridge.”
Carson said, “I’m here to interview Dr. Alek Kuchar. I was planning to contact him tomorrow.”
The sheriff arched a thick brow. “You mean that old buzzard scientist hunkered down in my mountains near Pilchard’s Bluff? That Alek Kuchar?”
“Yes, that Alek Kuchar.”
“Maybe he used to be famous, but why would anyone with half a brain want to interview that weird old gobspit now?”
Carson went stiff all over. Was he trying to rile her, get her to give him an excuse to take her in?
When she finally spoke, she managed to keep her voice calm and smooth. “Actually, Sheriff, Dr. Alek Kuchar is a brilliant physicist, a Nobel Prize laureate, and, I might add, beloved for his philanthropy. He lost his wife last year and moved here to recover from his grief.”
The sheriff grunted. “Maybe he was well known in that pissant country he comes from, whichever one that is. He isn’t here, that’s for sure. But enough of that. Let’s get to it before I go in and check on Rafer. Why don’t we start by you handing over that pipe?”
Carson gave it to him. He hefted it in his hand, studied the jagged edges. “You claim you hit Rafer on the head with this pipe? And this fellow here was with you?”
Time to mix truth with lies. “I was very lucky Agent Hammersmith was nearby. He heard me yell from inside the house, and came in through the front door. He kicked the gun out of Rafer’s hand. Then I hit Rafer on the head with the pipe.”
“Sounds to me like you two are the attackers, this being Rafer’s house, not yours. And all these wild accusations about Rafer wanting to kill you, about him killing those missing girls? What do you think he’s going to say about that? Neither of you move, you hear me?” He called out to the two deputies still standing at attention some twenty feet behind him, “Brewster, Jewel, keep an eye on these two, don’t shoot them if you don’t have to. I’m going to speak to Rafer.” Then he walked straight at Carson. She instinctively moved to let him pass and watched him walk into the house.
Carson hugged herself. She said, her voice bewildered, “I don’t get it. You’re a fake FBI agent? I’m a make-believe doctor? Griffin, what’s wrong with him? I mean, he’s the frigging sheriff. I know he’s Rafer Bodine’s uncle, and this has to be a big shock to him, but he’s still the sheriff, he’s the law here. He has to act, doesn’t he?”
Griffin looked after him. “I’ve learned a psychopath can hide in plain sight and no one ever suspects him. But you know what? His family always knows. Always. And his uncle? Maybe Sheriff Bodine doesn’t realize what Rafer is. Sorry, Carson, but we’re not going to be able to count on the sheriff. Let me make a call before he comes out again.” Griffin slipped his cell out of his pocket, pressed in Savich’s number.
Carson whispered, “What is this, an alternate universe? Do you think he’s going to toss us in Gaffer’s Ridge hoosegow?”
That’s exactly what Griffin thought.
“Savich.”
