Page 101 of Cowboy Heat

Respect.

She doesn’t say those words but confirms my suspicions.

“I think you like to help even when it’s a shit show. Maybe even more so when everything is going off the rails.”

Beau smiles. It’s polite.

“You can also tell your brother he isn’t the only person who has friends they can call to get the dirty details on,” she adds with a pointed annoyance. I guess Lee really went all out to see if we could trust her.

“Noted,” Beau says.

Detective Wayland gets back to her list.

“The third reason I’m breaking all kinds of rules to be here right now, and be more inclined to believe you’re telling the truth, is because of the men I found at the Fulton House.”

My heartbeat picks up speed.

My mouth goes a little dry.

“Grant Robertson—if that’s his real name—isn’t in any kind of database we can find. No criminal history, no felonies, not even a word-of-mouth trail I can find. Same for any credentials or ID that he had on him.”

“He said he was a church representative for the parish,” I say. “Though I’m guessing that’s probably not true either.”

Detective Wayland shakes her head.

“As far as I can tell, he’s not a church-anything,” she says. “I mean, you know how small this parish is. That goes double for the churching community. Everyone knows everyone, and no one I talked to could even place his name or description. It’s not like we have a lot of redheaded men like that running around Robin’s Tree.”

“What about the other man?” Beau’s brow is drawn, but he still manages a look my way. Detective Wayland also seems to linger on me.

“He was easier to identify. Louis Becker. Ring a bell?”

I see a man standing in the doorway to the bathroom, gun aimed at the ground.

I see the blood surrounding him on the worn wooden floor.

But I don’t recognize the name.

“No,” Beau and I say at the same time.

Detective Wayland doesn’t seem too surprised.

“Louis used to be a frequent flier at whatever department or station he was closest to,” she says. “His flight plan used to keep him in Northern Louisiana with some disorderlys and minor assault chargers, but it was documented that, at every turn, he made it abundantly clear he’s not a fan of law enforcement. That’s actually what landed him in prison two years ago. During a traffic stop, he broke an officer’s leg and clavicle. With his bare hands.”

“And he’s not still in prison for that?” Beau crosses his arms over his chest.

Detective Wayland shakes her head.

“Due to overcrowding and ‘good behavior’ he was released six months ago.” She holds up her hand in a stop motion before Beau can protest that. “I don’t know why or how he pulled that off, but it was done,” she adds on.

“Are there any obvious connections you found between the two of them?” Beau asks. “I mean between Louis and Grant?”

“No. Nothing on either or in their vehicle. I even looked through all of the trash on their floorboards to see if I could find a receipt for a gas station or fast-food drive-thru to try and catch them on security footage or even track where they’d been, but I got nothing.”

Beau looks like he wants to say something, but I’m already moving ahead.

“What’s the fourth reason?” I ask.

“Sheriff Roland met with Grant three times before this happened as far as I can tell. Twice last week. Once this morning. When I finally asked who he was and why the meetings, the sheriff told me it was personal business.”