Yeah, but first they had to get past the police outside.
“Just a minute!” he called as he pulled on clothes. He also called Domingo. The phone went straight to voice mail. Cormac paused. He tried again—it was late, she didn’t strike him as being much of a night owl. Maybe she’d just shut her phone off. Or maybe something was wrong. “Goddamn it.”
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and found Trina looking back at him, along with a pair of burly men in beige state trooper uniforms.
Cormac didn’t want to talk to cops. He didn’t want to deal with the police ever again in his whole life, if he could help it. He’d been off parole for a year, he shouldn’t have this reflexive knee-jerk. . .annoyance at seeing men in uniform trying to stare him down. But he was still a convicted felon, and he could assume that Trina told them everything she knew about him, that they’d run the Jeep’s license plates, and when you had a mystery no suspect looked quite as good as the one who already had a record.
This will be fine. They are not the enemy.
Yes, they are, Cormac muttered back at her. They had their own agenda. They got in the way.
Trina’s nose wrinkled. “You haven’t been smoking in there, have you?”
Cormac stepped out, leaving the door cracked. “What is it?” he asked evenly. If he tried to sound innocent he’d only sound more guilty.
“Cormac Bennett? That Jeep in the parking lot is yours?” The cop pointed at the only vehicle in the lot with Colorado plates.
“Yeah.” He read the names on their badges, Jankowitz, Stanley. He ought to ask for their identification. He didn’t really want to stall these guys.
“Ford Bellamy. You know him?” The shorter one was doing all the talking. He was a white guy, stocky, with a buzz cut. The taller one was blond and glared at Cormac like he expected him to bolt, and yes, his right hand was at the holster on his belt.
Cormac let out a breath. He’d expected them to mention Annie Domingo.
“Yeah, just met him yesterday. He tried to rope me into his film thing, but I said no.”
“Too busy? And what’re you doing in the area? A long way from home, aren’t you?”
“Not that long. I’m just looking into a few things for Annie Domingo over at the state park.” There, that got him a uniform on his side. The taller of the two cops still looked like he was waiting for Cormac to do something threatening. Trina stood to the side, looking back and forth with round eyes.
“When was the last time you saw Bellamy?”
“This afternoon at the park’s research cabin. Why, what’s happened?”
“He’s missing,” Officer Stanley said.
“Oh yeah?” Cormac tried to sound startled. But he wasn’t surprised. They needed to get out of here, now. . . .
“Yeah. We’re checking in with all the people who saw him last.”
“You talked to Elton Peterson yet? The two of them argued this afternoon. Domingo was there, she’ll tell you.”
The two officers glanced at each other. “We haven’t been able to reach Annie yet. We’re still looking for Peterson.”
Shit, Cormac thought, and felt Amelia’s urgency as a jolt in his hindbrain.
“You seen any of them since this afternoon?” Stanley pressed.
“‘Fraid I haven’t.”
“Found your record,” he said next, as if this was a surprise. “Seems like you’ve been around a lot of missing people in your time.”
Cormac almost chuckled, because that was such a roundabout way of putting it. “Yeah, I can see how you’d think that. How about if I hear anything about Bellamy I’ll let you all know?” He needed to circumvent this conversation entirely. He needed to get back to the cabin.
Stanley drew a business card out of his trouser pocket and handed it over. Standard contact info. “I’d appreciate it if you’d do that.”
The two went back to their patrol car; from inside, a radio scratched out indecipherable news.
“What’s going on?” Trina asked, still gaping.