The door opened at once. Gus had no doubt been standing just inside, listening.
Stuart scaled the porch steps, taking in the boy as he did. Stocky, blond and moody-looking, Gus appeared guilty as well as nervous. But it was the abrasion on the side of the boy’s face that caught the sheriff’s attention. “I need to ask you about Holly Jo.”
“We already told Duffy,” Joe said. “We don’t know anything about her.”
“I’m still going to need to talk to Gus.”
Stuart looked to Joe, who quickly said, “You’re not talking to him without me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the sheriff said, although he doubted the boy would be forthcoming in front of his father. “Let’s sit down here on the porch steps,” he said to the boy.
Gus looked reluctant but took a seat, his father towering above them on the porch proper.
Stuart started with the easy questions. “When was the last time you saw Holly Jo?” No surprise that it had been in school the day before. “Are you friends?”
Gus shrugged and mumbled, “Not really.”
“Have you been hassling her or bullying her?”
“What?” Joe demanded.
The boy’s reaction was immediate. His head jerked up, his eyes wide as if he was shocked by the accusation, and he shook his head fiercely. As Joe started to object, Stuart waved him into silence.
“Do you like her?” He watched the boy swallow and blush as he looked down at his boots and nodded reluctantly. “You know she’s missing, right?” Another nod. “Is there someone who might want to harm her?” He watched the boy hesitate.
The words came out hesitantly. “There are these girls at school. Tana Westlake and her friends. They’re mean to her. I told Holly Jo to stay clear of them, but she doesn’t always.”
He saw something in the boy’s expression. “She stands up to them?”
Gus nodded and avoided eye contact again. “It only makes them meaner.”
Stuart guessed, “You’ve taken up for her, and now these girls are after you as well.” He watched Gus’s mouth work, but no sound came out.
“Are you telling me you let a bunch of girls pick on you?” Joe demanded behind them.
Stuart shot him a warning look. Joe swore and stormed into the house, slamming the screen door behind him. But the sheriff knew he hadn’t gone far and was still listening. “What happened to your face?”
The boy’s hand went to the fresh abrasion on his cheek. “I fell down.” It was a lie, but Stuart let it go.
“Have either you or Holly Jo told anyone at school about the bullying?”
“I wanted to, but Holly Jo wanted to handle it. I tried to talk her out of it.”
“Do you know what she had planned?” he asked.
Gus shook his head. “She said it was better if I didn’t know.”
“When was this?”
“A few days ago.” The boy kept his gaze down. “Do you think they did something to her?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Thank you for your help. Sounds like you’re a good friend to Holly Jo. I’m sure she appreciates that.”
Gus looked at his boots again as his father came out of the house and told him to get to his chores. “You make sure Duffy McKenna leaves my boy alone,” Joe blustered.
“He won’t be bothering Gus anymore,” the sheriff assured him as he walked to his patrol SUV and climbed in.
On the way into town, the sheriff considered what he’d learned and what he would say when he got to the Westlake house. He knew this line of inquiry was getting him nowhere. But he had to follow up since there were little lies and big lies. When it came to kids, all lies seemed big.
Also, he’d once been a kid. He and Cooper and their friends had done irresponsible things that could have gotten someone hurt. The ransom notes with the letters cut from magazines seemed almost kid-like. Maybe the truth they wanted to come out was what Holly Jo had done to one of them—and had nothing to do with Holden’s past. A long shot, but one Stuart had to take.
He was almost to the Westlake house when he got a call. Brand Stafford had been spotted in town. A deputy was on the way to check it out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THERE WERE TWO kinds of families in the Powder River Basin. Ranch families and town families. Stuart knew from growing up here that the two were often miles apart economically—just as they were often at odds because of it.
Trying to survive in this town wasn’t easy for those who lived and worked here. Jobs were scarce. Options were limited to service jobs in town. The men could find seasonal work on ranches while their wives worked as housekeepers at the hotel or waitstaff at the café or clerks at the feed store. Others drove more than an hour over the mountain to work in Miles City.
Amanda Westlake worked as a housekeeper at the Belle Creek Hotel in town. Divorced, she’d stayed, even though she’d originally come to Powder Crossing because of her husband’s job as a deputy sheriff. Thad Westlake had long ago moved on, leaving town and Amanda. Now she and her daughter, Tana, lived in a trailer she rented on the other side of town. An older-model midsize sedan was parked out front.
Stuart parked beside it and got out. He figured Amanda wouldn’t be expecting him, and he was right. On the way into town, he’d called the hotel to find out if she was working today. She wasn’t.
He knocked on the trailer door and waited. He could hear movement inside, one set of frantic footfalls accompanied by a “Mother!” and then the slamming of a door before the trailer’s front door opened.
Amanda Westlake was a good-looking woman. He knew that local men, both single and married, had shown an interest in her. Just as he knew that she’d turned them all down, determined to get her daughter raised before getting involved with another man.
Her bottle-blond hair swung to one side as she cocked her head at him, waiting for an explanation as to why he was there. It was the response he often got in the Powder River Basin.
