Thomas Blackhorse's Arc

Chapter 11 of 17

The Jeep's headlights cut the empty highway. Earl slumped in the passenger seat with a rag pressed to his lip. Miguel Roundrock sat behind him, silent, watching the mirrors. The young woman from the casino basement sat by the far window with the canvas bag between her knees. Thomas had three living witnesses. He also had nowhere to put them. Juanita had his home address, his office address, and Earl's sister's number. Every safe place he owned was already burned. Thomas pulled onto the shoulder and killed the lights. He turned in his seat. "She has an hour on us at most. She'll drive back to town and start knocking on doors. Your sister's house is out. My office is out. Motels take IDs." "Then don't go to a motel," Miguel said. "Go to a cop." Thomas looked at him. Miguel did not look away. "She was a cop," Thomas said. "She was a clerk," Miguel said. "Cops in this town don't know her. Cops in Gallup don't know her at all." Thomas thought about it. He pulled out his phone and called Ray Kowalski. Ray picked up on the third ring. Thomas told him where he was and who was with him. He told him about the gasoline cans and the ranch house. "Gallup station," Ray said. "I'll call ahead. Sergeant on duty owes me. He'll put your three in a back room and post a uniform on the door until I get there with paper." "How long?" "Three hours. Maybe four." "Do it," Thomas said. He drove into Gallup with the speedometer steady. The station sat on a corner under a blue awning, lit hard by floods. Thomas parked at the curb and walked the three of them through the front doors. A sergeant looked up, nodded once, and waved them behind the counter without a word. He put them in an interview room with a table and four chairs. A young officer took a post outside the door. The woman from the basement set her canvas bag on the table and unzipped it. She took out a worn gray book bag with a leather patch on the front. The name Delgado was written on the underside in black marker. Thomas had seen the girl carry it in a school photo eight years ago. "She kept it," the woman said. "In a locker at the ranch. I took it when I took the ledger." Earl stared at the bag. Miguel closed his eyes. Thomas set his hand on the canvas. For eight years the case had no body and no weapon. Now he had a bag with the girl's name on it, held by three people who would sit under a badge until Ray arrived with a warrant. He stepped into the hall and called Martin Talltree. Talltree answered on the first ring. "She'll come to the school," Thomas said. "Tonight. Lock it down."