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Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

Molly had good news for us when we got to the station. The reports from Sheriff Grant had come in from Fairfield County. She let Harlan read them and then he showed them to Billy in his office.

“Two vehicles were stolen, and the drivers were robbed by kids. Sometimes two kids. Three another time. It’s got to be the same gang.”

“That sheriff didn’t catch any of them?” asked Billy.

“Doesn’t say there were any arrests in the reports,” said Harlan.

“We’re going back to Glenroy today,” I said. “We’ll do a lot of door knocking starting on the street where the kids originally lived. Somebody must remember those families.”

“Is Travis well enough to be left alone?” asked Molly.

“Says he is, Molly,” I said. “But he’d probably say the same thing even if he had two busted legs and his throat was cut.”

“Tammy, don’t say that even in fun.” Molly put her hands over her ears.

Glenroy. Montana.

We drove down to Glenroy for the second day in a row. This time Harlan was with me, and he was determined to find somebody who knew the kids who were causing all the trouble in our county.

We started door knocking again on the street where the kids had lived years before. “That’s one of the addresses.” I pointed to the house. “New people live there now, and the new owner never heard the names I gave her.”

“Cross that one off,” said Ted, “and also that red brick bungalow down that end of the street. I talked to the woman there and she didn’t know either one of the names.”

“Two houses been checked,” I said. “We’ll talk to every one of the other residents. I’ll take that end of the street up to the checked house. Tammy, you take that end. Ted work that side of the street and when I finish my half on this side, I’ll cross over and start at the far end and work back to you.”

“Copy,” said Ted. “Tell me the names again.”

“Burridge and Dickinson,” Tammy said. “Stuart Dickinson and Danny Burridge.”

“Okay, I’ve got it.” Ted crossed the street with his notebook in his hand. I went one way and Tammy went the other.

Starting with the corner house, I knocked, and an older lady answered the door. She looked to me like she’d lived thereforever, and I had high hopes for her remembering one of the kids.

“Deputy Harlan Bristol with the Harrison County Sheriff’s Department, ma’am. Can I ask you something? Won’t take long.”

“Of course, dear. What do you want to know?”

“I wondered if you could remember when the Burridges or the Dickinsons lived on this street. Both families had boys who would be sixteen or seventeen about now, and we’re looking for them.”

She pointed up the street. “The Burridges lived up the street for a while, but it was a long time ago. They had a girl and a boy, but I can’t remember the names of the kids.”

“Do you have any idea where they might have moved to, ma’am?”

“Umm…maybe.” She took her glasses off and cleaned the lenses with the tail end of her flowered apron. “I think I may have heard something about them not too long ago from Mrs. Strachan. She lives across the street and likes to know everybody’s business.”

“It’s important if you can remember what she told you, ma’am.”

“Something about them moving to Dutton and living near somebody she knew. It would be better if you asked her, dear. She just lives over there in that white house with the red shutters.” She made a face. “An ugly color for shutters and I told her more than once, she should get old Jason Crowe to paint them blue. It would raise the value of her house if the shutters were blue. Everybody knows that.”

I nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. If you think of anything else, my office number is on the card.”

She smiled. “Nice talking to you, Deputy Bristol. You seem like a fine young police officer.”

“Hope so, ma’am.” She made me smile.

A bit of progress there, I waved up the street to Tammy and pointed to the house I was going to across the street on Ted’s side.