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“On his own property. In a stupid place.”
Pologna looked at him. “You’re not serious, are you? You think the rifle was planted?”
“Like I said, it’s too pat.”
“It’s pat because it’s the truth.”
They drove for a while in silence, until the shabby outline of the roadside motel came into view. Coldmoon eased the car into the parking lot. He stopped, took a breath, then said: “I’m calling Dudek and asking for another couple of days.”
Pologna began to laugh. “This is a joke, right? You want to spend a couple more days in this dump? I’m not sure we’re even allowed to continue investigating, when the RPD are in charge on the Rez and they closed the case.”
“The case isn’t closed until the prisoner is arraigned.”
Pologna shook his head. “Jesus, this is crazy.”
Coldmoon hated to pull rank, but it was time. He tried to make it soft. “I’m just not satisfied, and as the senior agent I’ve got to go with my gut feeling here. The arraignment’s two days from now.”
Pologna continued shaking his head, saying nothing. Coldmoon took out his phone and called Dudek.
“Congratulations,” the SAC said before Coldmoon had a chance to talk. “Just got word. Nice quick work.”
Coldmoon cleared his throat. “Sir? There are a couple of loose ends I’d like to clear up.” He quickly explained about the gun, the casing, and the rest of his doubts. When he was done, Dudek asked: “Is Pologna there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Put the phone on speaker so you can both hear.”
Coldmoon laid the phone on the console between them.
“Pologna, what do you think?”
“Um, sir, with all due respect to my senior partner, I disagree. Like I was just telling him, this is an open-and-shut case. Running had the means, motive, and opportunity. He owned the murder weapon, and it was found hidden on his property. He lied about it being stolen. And as you know, sir, a wife is no alibi.”
A short silence. “What’s your response to that, Coldmoon?”
Coldmoon wondered if he was just being a stubborn asshole because he didn’t exactly like Dudek or Pologna. But still…“Sir, I want to ask Running about the rifle—why he lied when he said it was stolen. I want to talk to Twoeagle’s widow—we never interviewed her. And finally…” He hesitated because it sounded far-fetched, even to him. “It seems there was a certain reluctance on the part of the Rosebud Police to accompany us to the shooter’s location. I’d like to find out what that was about.”
A long silence, then a loud sigh right into the phone. “Christ. Coldmoon, this puts me and Pologna in an awkward position. I mean, you could be called up as a witness, and this conversation—and your doubts—could come out.”
Coldmoon hadn’t thought of that.
“So I’m pretty much obliged to let you pursue your feeble misgivings.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, Coldmoon, because I’m seriously pissed. This is not a good start, and it’s going to have repercussions. I’m giving you until noon tomorrow.” He hesitated, then added: “Sorry, Pologna.”
“Right, sir,” said Pologna.
Coldmoon hung up the phone and looked at Pologna, who was staring back at him with a hostile expression.
“Okay, what now?” said Pologna.
“We talk to Mrs. Twoeagle.”
24
TWOEAGLE’S HOUSE LAY SOMEdistance from Mission, near the banks of Rosebud Creek. Pologna had been silent on the long drive, which was fine with Coldmoon.