The Poacher's Son (Mike Bowditch 1)

there, I’m going to hunt you down and cut your balls off.” And with that, she hung up.
    As I handed Soctomah his phone back, he said, “You should have told us you had a meeting with Lieutenant Malcomb.”
    “If I had, you never would have brought me up here. And frankly, what’s going on with my job isn’t any of your business. Now do you want to hear what Brenda had to tell me or not?”
    My boldness seemed to take him back a little. “Go ahead.”
    I told them everything Brenda had said—almost everything. I left out the part about my dad’s secret midnight phone call and my being an accessory to his escape after the fact. Other than that, I related the entire conversation. “A lot of what she said makes sense,” I concluded.
    Menario snorted. Soctomah was gazing abstractedly at the window fan, the blades spinning round.
    “All your evidence is circumstantial,” I said, glancing across the room at Charley Stevens. “A tire track and a boot print? You can’t get a conviction on that, and you know it.”
    If Soctomah was pissed off at the old warden for spilling the beans on an active investigation, he certainly didn’t show it. He was as composed as ever.
    Not Menario, though. “Goddamn it, Charley.”
    “I thought the young man deserved to know.”
    His face was purple, his neck swollen. He looked like a man who was in the pro cess of being strangled by his own shirt. “It’s an active investigation.”
    “From what Charley says, you don’t even have enough to go to trial,” I said.
    “The guy’s a fugitive. If he’s so innocent, why’d he flee to Canada?”
    “My dad knew you wouldn’t believe him, given his record. Brenda says he was scared that Truman and Pelletier might try something against him.”
    “He wasn’t afraid,” Charley Stevens said softly.
    “What’s that, Charley?”
    “Jack Bowditch wasn’t afraid of those two. No way.”
    Soctomah scratched his chin contemplatively. Then he leveled his eyes at me. “Well, this was a waste of time.”
    I was dumbfounded. I’m sure my jaw dropped. “Aren’t you going to check out her story? Talk to Dellis and Pelletier?”
    “We’ve already conducted interviews with both of those individuals,” he said in the same flat, impersonal voice I’d heard him use on tele vi sion when briefing the press.
    “But what about my father?”
    “At the moment, he’s still the chief suspect.”
    “Thanks for coming in,” Menario said in his most sarcastic tone.
    “If anything breaks, we’ll let you know,” said Soctomah. “Your sergeant has asked us to keep you here until she arrives, but we need to get going. I promised to bring Brenda Dean back to Rum Pond, and I’m not going to break my word.”
    I was speechless.
    Soctomah looked at Charley Stevens. “Can you stay with Mike until Sergeant Frost arrives?”
    “Oh, sure,” said the old pilot. “I’ll take care of him.”
     
    They took Brenda Dean out the front, and as she passed, we made eye contact. She looked terrified. Through the window I watched the unmarked cruiser and Twombley’s patrol car pull away from the curb. “This is bullshit!” I said to Charley. “They’re just going to blow this off. It doesn’t matter what she says.”
    He shrugged. “The girl’s not exactly trustworthy.”
    “Then they should prove she’s lying.”
    “Soctomah knows what he’s doing. You should have faith in him.”
    “I’m not just going to go back home with Kathy Frost and forget about this. No fucking way.”
    “So just what exactly are you going to do?” Charley looked at me with an expression that seemed to combine fascination and annoyance.
    “I’m going to talk to Truman Dellis.”
    “I’ve been asked to babysit you until Sergeant Frost arrives.”
    “You can’t keep me here, Charley, and you know it. I’m not under arrest for anything. And you have no authority with the Warden service anymore.”
    “So you’re just going to walk over to the Natanis Trading Post.”
    “That’s right.”
    “It’s ten miles down the road.”
    “I’ll hitch a ride.” I was beginning to get a sense of how foolish I sounded, like a rebellious teenager. “Look, I appreciate your bringing me up here, I really do. But I can take care of myself.”
    He was silent for a long moment, then his weathered face split into a wide smile. “Fair enough. But before we part ways, I could do with a bit of lunch. How about you?”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Sure you are! Tell