Rough Country

could point at either of them, but it’d be tough; especially if the only thing that pointed at Slibe was a “maybe” sighting.
    Although he thought she was right about the truck. . . .
    He opened his eyes and asked Wendy, “What would you say if you hit your dad with the accusation that he was there, with his truck, and he said, ‘No, I wasn’t. I was over at Joe Blow’s house’?”
    “Well, then . . . I guess I’d believe it,” Wendy said. “Especially if Joe Blow backed him up. I’m not absolutely sure it was Dad’s truck. I just thought so. At the time.”
    “Man. That’s really soft,” Virgil said. He leaned forward. “What would you think of the idea of wearing a wire . . . a microphone . . . and accusing him of killing Erica? Tell him about seeing the truck, see what he says? We could be right there, outside, if he tried anything.”
    “Ohhh, God.” She brushed her fingers through her hair. “That would really be . . . traitorous, wouldn’t it? He’d never forgive me, even if he’s innocent. I mean, when Mom turned traitor, he never got over it. He did nothing but work, and come home and do the garden, and clean the house, and feed us kids. All the stuff that he used to do, plus all the stuff that Mom used to do, and then go to bed and get up and do it all over again.”
    “I can’t think of what else to do but the wire,” Virgil said. “Especially if that blood comes back as belonging to Jud Windrow. That points right at the Deuce. And I gotta tell you, honey, a singing career is looking pretty distant, if it turns out that your old man kills everybody who tries to help you along.”
    She said, “I’ve got to think about it.”
    “Think quick,” Virgil said.
    Zoe said to Wendy, “We could talk about it. Kick Virgil out, work through it together.”
     
     
     
    VIRGIL THOUGHT it might be a while. He called the sheriff and asked him for a couple of deputies. “I’m going out to talk to Slibe and I’d just as soon not be alone.”
    “I can understand that, what with his son being all shot up,” Sanders said. “I’m up in Bigfork again. Swing on by the office; I’ll have a couple guys waiting.”
     
     
     
    VIRGIL AND TWO DEPUTIES went out to talk to Slibe; but Slibe wasn’t home. The dogs were fed and watered and happy, but the house, the loft, and the trailer were all empty, and Slibe’s truck was gone.
    When Virgil called Zoe, to get a verdict on the idea of bugging Wendy and having her talk to Slibe, Zoe said, “Bad news on that. Slibe called and she went out to meet him.”
    “Meet him? Zoe, if he’s the killer, and they get alone—”
    “They were meeting at Dick Raab’s office,” Zoe said.
    “Who’s he?”
    “An attorney,” Zoe said. “Probably the best one in town. Slibe told her it’s time to shut up and save the family.”
    “Aw, that really makes my day,” Virgil said.
    “You want to know something?” Zoe said. “I think Wendy likes me again.”
    “Aww . . .”
     
     
     
    VIRGIL CALLED SANDERS and told him they needed to get together with Phillips, the county attorney. “Trouble?” Sanders asked.
    “Maybe,” Virgil said.
     
     
     
    THEY MET IN SANDERS’S OFFICE . Phillips looked unhappy; an older man sat in a corner with a carefully neutral expression on his face.
    “Bob said there might be trouble,” Phillips said, as soon as Virgil walked in.
    Sanders nodded at Virgil, then gestured at the older man: “This is my dad, Ken Sanders. He was the sheriff here before me. Half the people in the county still think they’re voting for him.”
    Virgil and Ken Sanders shook hands, and Virgil sat down and said, “I talked to Wendy Ashbach. She doesn’t think the Deuce did it; she thinks her old man did.”
    He told them about the discussion with Zoe and Wendy, and about Slibe calling, and about the meeting with Dick Raab, the attorney. Ken Sanders looked skeptical, while his son and Phillips tended toward apoplexy.
    “She’s telling us now?” Phillips exploded. “After another woman is shot, and another guy disappears, and her brother gets shot up?”
    “Slibe’s her old man,” Ken Sanders said. “He’s the only one she’s got, except for her brother. She was protecting him.”
    “If she’s telling the truth, her old man’s gotta be the biggest asshole in northern Minnesota,” Virgil said. “He’d be framing his own kid.”
    Then Bob Sanders asked, “What if she’s lying? What if she’s protecting her brother? What