“We are doing something. We’re waiting for word from Rainwater. Remember, we don’t have a Quebec warrant for Ruben. She is a suspect wanted for questioning. The only warrant is from Edmonton for skipping court.”

“Why not ride out to Ragged Ass? We don’t have to knock on the door or anything. We can observe from the car. In case anyone enters or leaves the house. What harm can it do?”

The waitress came, and Ryan signed the bill. Then he looked at me and came to a decision.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 21

WE’D BEEN PARKED ON RAGGED ASS FOR THIRTY MINUTES when Ryan got the call.

Rainwater had questioned the night and day clerks, checked the register, interviewed every lodger who would talk to him. Done what he could without a warrant. He was confident Ruben was not at the Gold Range, doubted she’d ever been there.

Shortly after Ryan disconnected, the Snooks’ front door opened, and Nellie emerged. She was wearing the same gray jacket but had substituted jeans for the red skirt.

I turned to see if Ryan was on her. His aviator shades were pointed her way.

Oblivious to our presence, Nellie whistled and slapped one thigh. A small gray dog bounded through the door, leaped off the stoop, and like a tiny whirling dervish, began racing circles on the lawn.

“Yes!” I pumped one arm.

“Two out of three households in North America have a dog.”

“You made that up.”

“I’m sure the stat’s close.”

“Tank,” Nellie called, “do pee-pee.”

Tank? From where I sat, the mutt looked like a cross between a Yorkie and a gerbil.

Tank continued his mad looping.

“Tank, you do pee-pee now.”

More frenzied circuits.

“I have treats.” Nellie shook a small bag.

Tank stopped and looked at Nellie, ears up, head cocked. Satisfied that she had the goods, he sniffed several spots, then squatted and held position. For a remarkably long time.

Bladder empty, Tank trotted back to Nellie and got his reward. She then scooped the dog up and plopped him inside.

After closing and locking the door, Nellie disappeared under the awning, reappeared shortly, pulling a wheeled cart.

“Looks like she’s going shopping,” I said.

“Could be.”

“While she’s gone, we could snoop around. Maybe—”

“That approach didn’t go well for you.”

“Fine. You stay on the house and I’ll talk to her.”

“Nor did that.”

Ryan’s attitude was wearing on my nerves. As was frustration born of inactivity. And I’d had a whole lot of coffee.

“You know what? I don’t need a warrant to ask a few questions. And I don’t need your permission.”

With that, I popped from the car and hurried up the road. The sound of the cart bouncing over gravel masked my approach. Or Nellie was hard of hearing.

I spoke when I was six feet out. “Nellie.”