THE FERAL STRUT

Chapter 30

Mary looked at Slim across the table, picturing him in a WWII helmet— planning an assault on the beaches. He really got into this whole strategy thing. Maybe it went with the job.

"Maybe we should tell Gin— about the stuff I took. I feel bad about that."

"The fewer people who know the better. There's a good chance he thinks Christy took it, and she blew town. Probably lying low with a rich friend, far away. She's not vulnerable, the way you are. Or Ginger."

"Did you go through the folder?"

"Yeah. The printout is mostly account numbers and balances. I didn't try tracking the accounts— someone might notice and ask questions. But the balances add up to serious cash: more then twenty-five mil. The real estate ads are houses on the Isle of Man, apartments in Dubai and Hong Kong, a rancho in Guatemala. Places to hide, in comfort. Wonder how much he paid for the passport? That'll be hard to replace."

"If he thinks Christy took it. . .no wonder she took off. I hope he never finds out who did."

'Where's the folder?"

"I double-bagged it and stapled the bag under the seatboard in your outhouse."

"Probably safe there. Who'd search an outhouse?"

"So— what about this?" he said, pointing to the article on Bullivant being declared dead.

"The fix is in," Mary said. "Obviously. The Don wants to be dead, and so do a lot of other people. That is, they want him to be."

"And any evidence to the contrary is unwelcome. I tried to talk to Shank again. No luck. Worse than no luck, actually. He was acting pissed off before. This time he seemed, well, scared."

In the silence Mary could hear the melting snow, drippity-drop, falling from the pines onto the yurt. She liked the rhythm: it started a song in her head.

She realized that Slim was looking at her.

"Oh," she said. "Scared. What's he scared of."

"He's got a dead man roaming around and hassling the rich and powerful folks he depends on for his job. That'll do for a start. But I've been thinking. . ."

"It'll get you in trouble."

"Already has. Anyhow, I wonder if Shank used to go to those parties at Terpening's house? If he's on those tapes? That'd put his butt in a sling."

"Wow! Sheriff Romps with Rich Weirdos: Leather and Lust. Did you mention that to your little birdie?"

"What?"

"I know you used to date Tee Hampton, the gossip girl at the paper. You're still pretty tight, from what I hear."

"We're friends. Just 'cause you don't go head over heels doesn't mean you have to be, like, enemies. She's not my type, and vice-versa. Look— could we concentrate on the vast web of crime?"

"Okay— so the Don's got hooks in all sort of people."

"Right— so what does he want?"

"Want? To stay dead— legally speaking. It gives him room to roam."

"True. He also needs cash. He can't get to any accounts that are tied up with Surgi-Plast. Or the ones his wife knows about. The word is that she'd like to skin him alive." He got a sick look on his face. "I was just thinking about that Terpening woman. They're putting her back together, I hear. At least she can talk, now. Bud got a deposition. But nobody's seen it yet."

"That fits," Mary said. "Ginger said her Dad wouldn't go along with the shell-company scam. But the Don probably did some stuff like that on his own. Still, he needs to score a bunch of money before he disappears for good."

"You think he will?"

"He can't keep sneaking around the Hole like a werewolf. Eventually, he'll get nailed. That wallop Christy gave him must have set him back— he has to trust someone. Or hire someone he can trust. That takes cash."

"And those tapes he stole from Terpening— he can ask a lot from people who think they got caught on tape. . . redhanded. Cash and cooperation."

"Another thing that bothers me," Slim said. "Why did he want to disappear when he did? His wife filed for divorce, but no big deal. Half his assets, he's still richer than God. He's got enough dirt on the local power elite to do pretty much as he pleases, short of burning down the Ski Village. He could do a fast fade, straight up and legal. So why the elaborate scam with the plane? That drew a lot of attention, right?"

"Maybe he wanted that. A public disappearance. Stories in the news. But for who? And why?"

"I think something scared him. Something happened. Maybe he expected it, maybe not."