“Ten minutes,” said the dispatcher briskly.
Casey tucked his phone and flashlight into his coat pocket and started to pick his way down the incline. Now that he knew the truck was there, the traces it had left in its wake were easier to see, but still not obvious for someone driving by. The pickup had careened over the edge almost where Casey was parked and bumped down the hill, then had eventually been stopped by a lone stump. From where he stood, Casey couldn’t see into thecab. There was no way to tell if Gordon was inside or if he’d managed to get out and wander off, only to fall over the ledge.
If it weren’t for the remains of the tree, the Nissan would have kept going, all the way over the cliff’s edge and into the chilly waters of the Salish Sea. The water was deep there, and the drop-off immediate.
Casey shuddered, and not just from the cold. Gordon was a bit of a goofball, but Casey liked him. They chatted when they were in line for coffee at the same time. Fingers crossed the man hadn’t died waiting for help to arrive. Casey’s boot slipped on rotten leaves and shot out from underneath him. He landed with a grunt on the muddy and rocky hillside and slid the few remaining feet to the back of the truck. Just his ass was sore, but he was glad he’d made Bowie stay in his vehicle.
The bed of the Nissan provided him an anchor. Holding tight to it, Casey made his way to the front. The door hung open and the windshield was shattered. Prepared for the worst, he shone the light around the inside.
The airbag had deployed but the cab was empty. Gordon’s body was not slumped over the steering wheel or lying crumpled across the bench seat. Casey sucked in a breath. A pang of grief speared him in the center of his chest at the thought of a disoriented Gordon wandering off.
“Shit.”
Swallowing, he straightened and glanced closely at the ground around the truck. The rain had been merciless the last couple of nights; there were no obvious footprints left behind that might indicate Gordon had gotten out. Casey looked inside the cab again, more carefully this time. There was, he realized, what looked like blood smeared on the door. Gordon had been hurt; that was not good. On the off chance that Gordon hadn’t stumbled and fallen into the sea, where could he be?
The distant siren of the county fire and ambulancereached his ears. Casey started to scramble back up the embankment so he could get out of the way. The rescuers had harnesses in their kits and would be able to check over the ledge. Of course, Gordon’s body could’ve been carried off by the current and be far away by now.
When he reached the top again, Casey debated making another phone call, this time to Elton, but in the end, he decided to wait until he had real news, not just speculation.
With a sigh, he climbed back inside the truck and waited for the emergency vehicles to arrive.
TWENTY
GABRIEL
Thursday
Gabriel was slumpedagainst the couch cushions, a slowly cooling cup of coffee gripped in both hands, while Elton talked to the TCSO from the landline in his kitchen. The conversation was fairly short.
Between them, Gabe and Elton decided Elton would call the Sheriff’s Office and report the murder. Gabe listened in as he informed the dispatcher that it had been him, and not Gabriel, who’d found Perkins’s body. The dispatcher asked a few more questions which Elton answered with yes, yes, no, and an “I’ll be here in the morning,” before ending the call.
“Some folks who live up The Valley know my truck and maybe saw it wasn’t me behind the wheel,” Elton warned him. “But they likely won’t want to get involved with Rizzi anyway, so I think we’re safe with me calling it in.”
Gabriel had raced back to Elton’s, speeding most of the way with one eye out for the cops. He felt unhinged and wild-eyed. His hands shook on the steering wheel, adrenaline coursingthrough his system like that river inThe Lord of the Rings. Elton had taken one look at him and steered him to the couch, forcing him to sit down. Then he’d offered Gabe a beer, which, somehow, Gabe had found the strength to refuse. It wasn’t often he truly craved a drink, yet it had been twice this week. But sure as fuck, this was not the time to test out social drinking.
Gabriel watched as the old man eased down onto the recliner with his own cup of coffee. “Thanks for making the call.”
“Althea wanted to know why I didn’t stop at the office on my way home. I told her my old bones were tired and if they want to talk to me, they know where I live.” Elton sniffed and sipped at his coffee. “Well, I hope they do anyway. They’re busy on some other call right now. Supposedly, they’re sending deputies up to Gordon’s property as soon as they can and tomorrow someone will stop by to confirm what I”—he waggled his eyebrows—“saw up there. You’re positive it was Dwayne Perkins?” His expression told Gabriel he believed him, that he was just making absolutely certain. Gabe didn’t blame him.
“Silent, creepy, long hair?”
Of course, he was silent. He was dead, Chance.
“That sounds like Dwayne. But dammit now I’m even more concerned about Gordon.”
Gabriel asked the question that he didn’t want to, but it sort of tumbled out on its own accord. He’d been rolling the thought around in his mind ever since Dwayne’s corpse scared the living shit out of him, and he hadn’t been able to shake the thought the entire drive back to Elton’s place. “Do you think Gordon could have been responsible? He and the Perkins brothers seem to have a history.”
Elton’s lips turned down and he shook his head firmly. “No, I can’t see it. Gordon is easily misled, but I can’t see him killing anyone. He’s not a violent person.”
“Not that I have personal experience, but I think it’s possible to be driven to murder. And jail changes people.”
“Sure,” Elton confirmed, “but would Gordon use a gun? Or just lash out with his fists or something? What you describe sounds like an execution to me. I suppose that Gordon might kill someone in self-defense, but even then, it would probably be by accident. Not to speak ill of him, but like I’ve said before, Gordon isn’t the smartest tool in the shed.”
“Agreed. I’ve only met him the one time and that was my impression.”
“What was Dwayne doing dead on Gordon’s property though?” Elton asked, sounding a bit pissed off. “And how come Gordon is nowhere to be found? The damn Sheriff’s Office will be looking at him first for this. If he’s not at his home or up The Valley, where the hell is he?”
Gabriel gulped the no longer scalding coffee down. He needed the boost since the adrenaline was fading fast. “I got nothing. His neighbor at the RV park hadn’t seen him around recently.”
