It was about a half mile to the hotel—everything in Libbie was about a half mile away—and the fresh air and exercise did me good. I actually broke a sweat, which was more a result of the heat than of any exertion on my part. I walked west past the First Integrity State Bank. Its electronic sign announced that at eleven fifty-two the temperature had reached ninety-seven degrees. I would have thought that the heat would have slowed people down, yet there was an unexpected energy to the traffic around me. The citizens of Libbie all seemed to move with a deliberateness that I had not seen before. It was as if they all shared a secret that they couldn’t wait to reveal to each other.

I stepped through the large wooden doors into the lobby of the Pioneer Hotel, where I was assaulted by a wave of cool air. I automatically began rubbing my hands over my upper arms the way people do when they want to warm themselves. Sharren Nuffer was sitting behind the reception desk, a pair of cheaters balanced on her nose, reading something on her computer screen.

“Hi,” I said.

Her head jolted upward.

“Oh my God, McKenzie,” she said.

The glasses came off quickly as Sharren rounded the desk. She came toward me, her arms flung wide.

“McKenzie,” she said again. A moment later, her arms were around me and she was hugging me tight. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? What’s going on?”

“I was so worried about you. I heard what happened last night. I heard that they took you to the clinic. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Who told you about last night?”

Sharren paused a moment before answering.

“It’s a small town,” she said.

“Still, that’s a pretty enthusiastic welcome.”

“I thought, because of what happened, I thought—I don’t know what I thought.”

Sharren and I didn’t have that kind of relationship, I told myself. If she was anxious about me, it wasn’t because we were close. There was something else on her mind.

“What do you know that I don’t?” I said.

“You mean you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“It’s terrible. Oh, McKenzie, it’s so terrible. That’s why I’m upset. Because of what happened to you last night and then this morning and Rush, the way he disappeared—”

“Sharren, you’re not making any sense.”

“I’m trying to, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me, and I wouldn’t like that.”

My cell phone, safely tucked in the pocket of my sports jacket, called to me. I held up a finger while I answered it.

“Hold that thought,” I told Sharren. “This is McKenzie,” I said into the phone.

“This is Chief Gustafson. Are you still in the hospital?”

“No. I was discharged a little while ago. What can I do for you, Chief?”

At the word “Chief,” Sharren took two steps backward and covered her mouth with her hand.

“How are you feeling?” he said. “Are you up for a little trip?”

“Chief—”

“I’m at Mike Randisi’s place. Do you remember how to get here?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to come out right away.”

“Why?”

“He’s dead. Somebody shot him.”

There were so many vehicles parked on Mike Randisi’s turnaround that I had to park well back on the gravel driveway and walk up the hill to his home. Most of the cars carried the emblem of the Perkins County Sheriff’s Department. One belonged to the Libbie Police Department. There was also a white van with quik-time foods painted across its doors. Dawn Neske, wearing her tailored light and dark blue uniform, stood in front of it, waving her arms emphatically at the two deputies that were interviewing her. Her arms froze in midgesture when she saw me. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth hung open. The deputies turned to see what had captured Dawn’s attention. I gave them all one of Victoria Dunston’s microwaves.

Chief Gustafson opened the door to the house as if he had been watching for me. He waved me over.

“It’s not my case,” he said. “We just don’t have the resources for a deal like this. I handed it off to Big Joe Balk. He’s the county sheriff. He might kick it up to the South Dakota Division of Criminal Investigation, I don’t know.”

I flicked a thumb toward Dawn. She had resumed gesturing, and the deputies had resumed watching her.

“What is she doing here?” I asked.

“She discovered the bodies,” the chief said. “When she came to deliver Randisi’s groceries this morning.”

“Bodies?”

“Step inside. Don’t touch anything.”

I wasn’t prepared for what I found there.




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