He cleared his throat. “I guess it won’t hurt anything to tell you, the state forensics people didn’t agree at first. Something about the skid marks being too long and in the wrong place. They thought she might have been bumped by another vehicle. But there was no wrong-colored paint on her car, or what was left of it. We called every repair shop in five counties, but didn’t find any damaged front bumpers we couldn’t account for by other means. I don’t mind saying, it took a lot of man-hours. But it all came to nothing. I guess my investigator was right after all. And he knew Celeste, so he was motivated to figure out what really happened.”

“He knew her?” June’s pen flew across the paper. “What was their relationship?”

“Celeste worked at a country store he owns, and lived in a trailer on his property. He was kind enough to give Helene a job and let her keep living there after her mom passed. Although it’s just a travel trailer, a tiny little thing. It was his money Helene stole.” He gave a whiskey chuckle. “I must confess, I don’t wonder why she hightailed it out of there. Once you get outside town, Montana can be mighty lonely.”

Peter wanted to ask a question, but June did it for him. “Your investigator, what’s his name?”

“Anthony Bogaloosa. He’s also my chief deputy. A good man, a hard worker.”

“I’d love to talk to him,” June said. “Maybe he can shed some light on where Helene might be. Do you have his number handy?”

“Oh, I can’t give that out,” the sheriff said. “I’m happy to pass on your information and suggest he call you. He’s got the store to run, plus a barn full of milk cows, so it might be a few days. Not like it’s an active case, am I right?” Then he paused. “Funny thing. I had a similar conversation just this morning.”

“Really,” June said. “With who?”

“An insurance adjuster from Minneapolis. Real nice fella. Said he was cleaning up his files.”

“Did you get a name for this guy?”

“Sure, I wrote it down. Peter Ash.”

June looked at Peter. Wide-eyed, he shook his head.

Apparently Sheriff Janacek listened to silences, too. “Lady, is there something else I should know about this case?”

“If I figure it out,” June said, “I’ll let you know.”

64

HELENE

Helene pointed up the road at the ruined farmstead backed by a broad swath of evergreens. There were no other houses in sight. “That looks like a good place.”

Roy touched the brake and the Volvo began to slow. “It’s perfect, honey. Nice call.”

As they approached the overgrown driveway, she glanced behind them. “Frank’s still following.”

“Did you have any doubt?” Roy sighed. “Frank’s a born follower.”