“And you have no idea where my father might be?”

“No ma’am, I don’t. Wish I did. I’m a one-man police force in over my head. But if he was in protection why is he on the run now?”

“A few weeks ago an attempt was made on my father’s life. He made sure I was okay and then he left. The way the attempt came I believe he thought it was an inside job.”

“Well, if he was looking to hide out here and get a little peace and quiet, he was sorely mistaken.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tyree took a few minutes to sketch out what had happened in Divine since Stone arrived there.

Annabelle sat back, thinking fast. She didn’t want to get bogged down in whatever was happening in Divine. Yet if these events were connected to Oliver’s disappearance it also might be the only way to find him.

She rubbed her hands nervously over the arms of her chair. “Has anybody else been in town, another stranger, asking questions about my father?”

“Not that I know of. He was staying over at Bernie’s, that’s a little rooming house right around the corner from here. You could check there.”

“I will, Sheriff, and thanks.” She rose and so did Tyree. “Anybody else in town you think I should talk to?”

“Well, there’s Abby Riker. She owns Rita’s just down the street. She and Ben seemed to get on right good.”

Was it Annabelle’s imagination or did she detect a note of jealously there?

“Thanks.” She handed him a card. “Here’s my phone number in case you think of anything else.”

She left Tyree standing in his office looking troubled.

Outside the jail the man had obviously been waiting for her.

Charlie Trimble said, “I couldn’t help but see the photo of the man you were looking for. I interviewed him in connection with some of the things occurring in town. Perhaps the sheriff explained that to you?”

“Murders and suicides and people getting blown up, yeah, he filled me in. You say you talked to him? What did he tell you?”

“Well, perhaps we could have a bit of negotiation there.”

“Excuse me?”

“I own a newspaper, ma’am. I thought when I moved here and started running the little town paper that the most exciting thing I’d have to report was when someone drove his truck off a mountain road or a mine cave-in. Now with all that’s going on I feel like I’m back in Washington.”

Annabelle looked impatient and felt more than a little disgusted at his gleeful tone. “What exactly do you want?”

“You tell me things and I tell you things.”

“Like what?”

“Like who Ben really is.”

“And if I do, what can you tell me?”