The Invisible Hand - A crime novel

Chapter 54

"Any news?"

Gus sits down across from Red. The café in Betrug is busy. The crop is in. Not much else to do now.

"Got a call about some hunters trespassing," Red says. Points to a carafe of coffee on the table. "Help yourself."

It's been a couple days since their verbal scuffle. Time doesn't heal all wounds. But coffee does.

"Thanks, I will. Starting to get cold out," Gus says. Pours a cup. Leans back into the booth. "What about the hunters?"

"Neighbor spotted them. Turned out they had leased the property," Red says.

Betrug won't get the oil boom. Not in any proper sense. But it will get something else. Hunting.

It's still a new business around here. Some say recreation is the future. Others say you can't harvest what you don't plant.

The ones running hunting businesses are usually from out-of-state. Minnesota or Colorado. They come in, buy up a bunch of land. Talk crazy about prairie restoration. Plant native grasses. Fly in hunters from the East Coast.

Then the locals call Red about the hunters. And he has to tell them it's nothing. It's OK for them to be there. The look on their faces. It's like he's betraying them.

They're only betraying themselves. Crop subsidies are political chips. Could go away tomorrow. If they don't find oil in Betrug, if the young people move away, what's the future like?

A group of farmers walks by the booth. One of them tips a hat to Red. He returns the gesture.

"Off to the festival?" Red says.

"Yeah, got a pumpkin to enter," the farmer says. Heads out the door.

"See you there," Red says.

The Betrug Fall Festival is a big deal in town. Pumpkin competitions. Live musicians. Hot food. Games. It's less about those things, though. More about meeting up with neighbors before the serious harvesting starts.

Pumpkins are the centerpiece to it all. People don't usually put pumpkins and North Dakota in the same sentence. But they grow like orange tumors on the prairie.

"I wasn't talking about news on the hunter front. I was talking about the other thing. Where we left off," Gus says. Lowers his voice. "Wil Reyno..."

Red cuts him off. "Don't even say that name in here."

Gus looks around. Someone in the back waves. Gus returns it.

"You mean people don't know yet?" Gus says.

"Not many. Didn't even make the paper," Red says. "The editor was happy to oblige my request."

Gus reaches over to a table. Grabs an abandoned newspaper. The latest edition of the Betrug Bugle. He thumbs through the pages. There's plenty about the Betrug Fall Festival. Some tax notices. Nothing about the murders. No obituaries.

"Not a peep," Gus says. "I haven't told anyone, either."

"Good," Red says. Takes a long draw from his coffee cup.

"Won't people notice two people are missing?" Gus says. "Joe and Elma?"

"Three, actually. You forgot to count Wil," Red says. "They'll figure it out when they're not at the festival."

"What about Wil's mother, Mary? Heard from her lately?" Gus says.

"Been stopping by her place. Quite a bit, actually. She's a mess," Red says. "First her husband dies in a grain bin accident. Then her only child murders two and runs. I'd be a mess, too."

"That'll be good for you to visit her. Get you out of that house. Living by yourself isn't healthy," Gus says. Pushes the newspaper back to Red.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Red says.

"It means you've been a crab ass lately," Gus says.

A waitress comes by. Takes a breakfast order from Gus. Ham, egg and cheese egg sandwich. To go.

"You're not sticking around?" Red says.

"I'm a pumpkin judge. I've got important work to do," Gus says. "You're coming to the festival, right?"

Red looks out the window. His last phone call with Jane did not go well. Plans changed. And not in the way he wanted.

"I don't feel like it," Red says.

Gus tells the waitress to put the sandwich on his tab. They'll settle up at the end of the month. Just like he always does.

"You want to talk about anything, Red?" Gus says.

"Nope," Red says. Shifts in the booth. The paper in his pocket makes a crinkling noise. Gus doesn't notice it. Red does. It's loud.

It's a folded sheet of printer paper. Wil Reynold's obituary. As written by Red.

He'd read it over last night. Again and again. Forgot to leave it at home.

"You still haven't answered my first question," Gus says. Plucks the sandwich from its bag. Takes a big bite. "What's new with Jane?"

"I thought you were judging pumpkins," Red says.

"I've got time," Gus says.

Red sips coffee. No use hiding it anymore.

"Jane dumped me," Red says.

"I didn't realize you two were dating," Gus says.

"Wise ass. I mean she's refusing to do what I hired her to do," Red says.

Gus swallows hard. Cracks his knuckles. "So don't pay her. Let the feds find Wil. What's the issue?"

"The issue is she said her focus changed. Something else caught her attention," Red says. "She told me there's no choice. The feds will bring Wil in."

"Well, thank goodness for that. Jane isn't worth the hassle," Gus says. "Why is it so important you get to him before the feds anyway?"

"I need to bring Wil in the right way. For the sake of Betrug. For these people. You don't just spring something like this on them," Red says.

Gus shrugs. "Why not? Murders happen. I still don't understand you on this."

"Locals trust locals. It's how it's always been. You know that. The feds get him, it's not the same," Red says.

Red shuffles in his seat again. The crinkled paper seems even louder. Scrapes against his eardrums.

"No, I think it's the same. We're not doing anyone any favors by keeping these murders under wraps," Gus says. Pauses. "Unless the favor is for you."

Red folds his arms. "Judging starts in 10 minutes. You better get to it."

"Then you've got 10 minutes to tell me what happened," Gus says. Doesn't budge.

"Or what?" Red says.

"Or I break some bad news at the festival. Let the cat out of the bag," Gus says.

Red thinks the options over. He'd rather keep the town quiet. That's always been the plan.

"Fine," Red says and pulls out the obituary.

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