Triple Threat

murder.
    Pellam blinked. “You’re out of your mind.”
    Werther was his typical calm, the statue of reason. “You told me you weren’t where Jonas Barnes was killed this afternoon.”
    “Well, I didn’t
know
where he was killed. I told you as best I could.”
    “Witness saw you standing over the body.”
    Pellam closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. I didn’t
see
a body.”
    “And it looked like you were holding a knife. Which is how Barnes died. You started to drag him away into a cave and then you realized somebody was nearby. You ran.”
    “Who is this witness?”
    “It was anonymous. But he described you to a T.”
    Hannah said, “It was Taylor. It had to be.”
    Pellam pointed to the ground. “Those footprints! Those’re just what he was wearing. And he attacked me.”
    “You say that. I didn’t see it.” He looked to Hannah. “Did you see it?”
    She hesitated. “He couldn’t’ve done it.”
    “Was he with you?”
    Before she spoke Pellam said, “No, I was just coming back from the store up there and I got jumped. Then I found them. Why would I call 911 if I was the guilty party?”
    “So you wouldn’t look guilty, of course.”
    “Jesus Christ. Taylor’s getting away.”
    “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
    Pellam turned around and gave it ten seconds for Werther to holster his weapon and get his cuffs out. He fast-drew the Colt from his waistband and touched the muzzle against the sheriff’s belly, pulled out the man’s Glock and flung it into bushes across the road.
    The man gasped. “Oh, Lord. Please, I got a family…”
    “And if you want to see ‘emyou’ll hand the cuffs to your brother-in-law.”
    “I—”
    Pellam stepped back and now aimed at Rudy. “Sorry, but do it.”
    The big man hesitated, looked at the gun, then at the spreading lake of blood around the trooper. He took the cuffs. “Cuff him.” Pellam then barked, “Now! I don’t have time to wait!”
    The big man said, “I don’t know how they work.”
    “Mister, this’s going to mean nothing but trouble for you for a long, long time.”
    Pellam ignored the law enforcer and explained the cuffs to Rudy. Everyone, Hannah included, probably wondered why he knew this esoteric skill.
    Motioning Rudy back, Pellam frisked Werther and found plastic hand restraints. He bound Rudy’s wrists behind him. Then, pointing his Colt Hannah’s way, he said, “I’m taking your car… and you. You’re driving.”
    “Listen—”
    “No, I’m tired of listening,” Pellam snapped. “Move now!”
    “Pellam,” Werther called. “You won’t get but a mile. Troopers already have roadblocks up.”
    But he was gesturing Hannah into the truck. The big engine fired up and she skidded into the road, the fix-your-seatbelt light flashing but the chime disconnected. Hannah seemed like the kind of woman who couldn’t be bothered with things like safety restraints.
    # # #
    Pellam slipped the gun away. “Sorry. I didn’t have any choice.”
    “No,” she said. The word might’ve been a question.
    “I didn’t kill Barnes,” he said. “Or anyone.”
    “I didn’t think you had. Why’d you kidnap me?”
    “It’s not a kidnap. It’s a borrowing. I need your car… and, okay, I needed a hostage.”
    She snickered bitterly.
    He continued. “The only way to prove I’m innocent is to find your goddamn poet. He’s not driving out of here either. He’ll be hiding out someplace. The cops’ll be checking all the motels. He’ll camp out somewhere. Caverns or someplace like that, I’d guess. You have any ideas?”
    “Me?” she snapped, sounding insulted. “I’m not from here. I was just passing through this fucking place when you rear-ended me. Most I’ve ever done in Hamlin ‘fore today’s bought overpriced gas.”
    She took a turn at nearly fifty, inducing a slight skid, which she controlled expertly. Pellam’s knees banged the dash. So she could reach the pedals, she’d moved the seats all the way forward.
    She was staying off the main roads.
    Pellam thought for a minute. “I’ve got an idea.” He dug in his pocket for a business card.
    # # #
    The office of Southeastern Colorado Ecological Center was outside of Gurney in an area that looked more like ski territory than desert: pines, brush, grass and scrub oak or low trees that looked like they ought to be called scrub oak even if they weren’t. The building seemed to include offices, a small museum, and an even smaller lecture