Easy Prey

the killer’s male. He may even have been seen.”
    “Well, I hope you find him,” the elder Olson said. He looked at his wife and son and said, “Let’s go get Alie’e.”
     
 
WHEN THE DOOR closed, Lucas, Rose Marie, and Milton sat in silence for a few seconds, then Rose Marie asked, “Did you see them on television?”
    “No.”
    “It’s like people get media training somewhere,” Rose Marie said. “In here, Mrs. Olson sits in her chair like a turtle on a rock, but when you see her on TV, she’s the perfect mom. She’s as good as most of the professionals you see on the news shows. Every hair in place, except the ones that shouldn’t be. She’s perfectly distraught. She personifies exactly what a distraught mother should be like. And the kid . . .”
    “I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley if he was pissed at me,” Milton said. “He’s supposed to be some kind of holy guy, but he said, ‘horseshit.’”
    “Horses shit even around holy people,” Lucas said.
    “Besides,” added Rose Marie, “he was clinically correct. That was a load of horseshit. Lester Moore picked up on it, too. There were no secrets, because we don’t have any.” She brooded about that for a moment, then said, “I think I’ve heard his name, Lester Moore. Maybe when I was up on the Hill?”
    Milton shook his head. “It’s a famous name.”
    “Really?” Rose Marie was curious.
    “A guy named Lester Moore was killed in some place like Tombstone, or Dodge City, and was buried on Boot Hill. His epitaph read something like,“‘Here Lies Lester Moore, Two Shots From a .44, No Les, No More.’”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    Rose Marie said to Lucas, “We’ve had some time, now. Now they’re gonna start cooking us, the press is. When the funeral’s over with, they’re all gonna come back here, and we better have something besides horseshit.”
     
 
LUCAS HAD THREE messages: one from Catrin that said, “Please call before three,” one from Del, and a last one from Sherrill. He called Sherrill first. She answered the cell phone, then said, “I’ll call you back in fifteen seconds.” In fifteen seconds, his phone rang, and Sherrill said, “I think you better come down here and talk with Jael.”
    “Why?”
    “Some kind of father-figure thing, I think, and all the scars you guys got,” she said, and she sounded serious. “She wants to talk—actually, I think she wants to confess something to you.”
    “She . . .”
    “No, no, she didn’t kill anyone,” Sherrill said.
    “Then why doesn’t she confess it to you? You got scars.”
    “Because she’s not interested in me. With you, she’s thinking it over. Women would much rather confess to a guy they’re thinking about sleeping with, because they think that way, they might have some control over him.”
    “Ah.”
    “So when can you come down?”
    “Pretty goddamn quick, but I’ve got a couple of calls to make. See you in . . . twenty minutes.”
     
 
LANE STUCK HIS head in as Lucas was hanging up. “I’m heading out to Fargo.”
    “Why?” Lucas punched in Del’s number.
    “Because I was looking at Tom Olson’s alibi for the night Alie’e was killed. It’s loose, and I need to talk to a guy out there. And I’ve got all the genealogical shit you could ever ask for.”
    Del’s phone started ringing, and Lucas asked, “When will you be back?”
    “Tonight, late, or midmorning tomorrow.”
    Del said, “Hello?” and Lucas lifted a hand to Lane. “Take off.” Del asked, “What?” and Lucas said, “I was talking to Lane. . . . So what’s happening with the deal, and the warrants?”
    “The warrants on Bee and Logan are in the works. Manny Lanscolm is taking Outer’s statement right now. We could move in an hour.”
    “Call me,” Lucas said. “Make sure that the warrants specify computer files and disks.”
     
 
HE DIALED CATRIN’S number. The phone rang twice, and Catrin picked it up.
    “I’d like to talk again,” she said. Her voice was low, tight, anxious. “I know you’re busy with the Alie’e thing . . . but could we meet in St. Paul, somewhere, tomorrow?”
    “Sure, I guess.” He gave her the name of a restaurant near St. Anne’s, told her how to find it. “It’s got those old-fashioned high plastic booths,” he said. “We can talk.”
     
 
JAEL. HE WAS looking forward to seeing her again.
    Sherrill met him at the door and said, “She’s back in her studio. As long as you’re here,