Feast Day of Fools - James Lee Burke [41]
“Go on.”
“The caller wanted to know how Bedford knew it was arson. Bedford told him the whole place stunk of kerosene. Then the caller asked if Bedford had any suspects in mind. Bedford goes, ‘Not unless you count the FBI.’”
“Wait a minute,” Hackberry said. “When did Bedford get this call?”
“A week ago, right after the fire.”
“Bedford suspected the feds did it but didn’t tell us?”
“Hold your water two seconds and I’ll try to finish,” Maydeen said.
“Excuse me.”
“I asked Bedford the same question. He said a trucker saw a car with a government tag parked by the shack just before the flames went up. Bedford figured if the feds set fire to it, there was a reason. He thought maybe it was a stopover place for illegals.”
“So why is Bedford calling us now?”
“He started wondering why this guy Roark didn’t ask about the arson incidents involving wildfires. Like what was the big deal with a shack? This morning he called Austin and was told nobody by the name of Garland Roark worked at the Department of Public Safety.”
“That’s because he’s dead,” Hackberry said.
“You knew him?”
“Garland Roark was the author of Wake of the Red Witch. Jack Collins likes to appropriate the names of famous writers. He used the name of B. Traven, the author of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, on several legal documents. Jack is quite the jokester when he’s not murdering people.”
“You want me to get Bedford on the phone?”
“Forget Bedford. Call Ethan Riser and fill him in. If he’s not in, leave the information on his voice mail.”
“Shouldn’t you do that?”
“I’m done pulling Ethan’s biscuits out of the fire,” Hackberry replied. “Ask Pam to come in here, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
A moment later, Pam Tibbs tapped on the doorjamb.
“Jack Collins knows the feds burned him out,” Hackberry said.
“Is Riser aware of this?”
“He will be. You have any suggestions?”
She shrugged. “Not really. Collins is going to square it.”
“You and I know that. But we’re the only law enforcement personnel around here who have dealt with him head-on.”
“So maybe Riser will learn a lesson and not be such a smart-ass.”
“We’re not going to let Collins make this county his personal killing ground.”
She took a box of Altoids out of her shirt pocket and put one on her tongue. “Why did you want to talk to me, Hack?”
“You know how Collins thinks.”
“You’re asking me what his next move will be?” she said.
“I thought you might have an opinion, since he tried to machine-gun you.”
“That’s not a subject I’m flippant about.”
“Neither am I,” he said.
“Collins hunts like a cougar,” she said. “He’ll go to the water hole and wait for his prey.”
“Where’s the water hole?”
“Wherever he thinks the feds will show up,” Pam replied.
“Where would that be?”
“You already know where.”
“Tell me.”
“The Asian woman gave refuge to Noie Barnum. The feds are probably watching her. One way or another, Collins will find that out.”
“Want to take a ride?” Hackberry said.
She looked out the window at the flag popping on the silver pole in front of the building. In the north a line of rain mixed with dust was moving across the hills, but to the south the sky was blue, the early sun already hot and as yellow as egg yolk. “Why ask me? You’re the boss man, aren’t you?” she replied.
TWO MEN DRIVING a black SUV had parked their vehicle behind a knoll and set up a high-powered telescope with a camera attached to it on a flat spot that overlooked the valley where the Asian woman lived. They were both dressed in stonewashed jeans and alpine shoes with lug soles and short-sleeve shirts with many pockets. They were both tan and wore shades and had the body tone of men who swam or ran long distances or trained at martial arts or followed a military discipline in their personal lives. One of them opened a lunch box on a rock and removed a thermos of hot coffee and two ham sandwiches. Both men carried Glocks in black nylon holsters on their belts.
Ten minutes later, a rock bounced down from the knoll. The men turned around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. After they finished