Page 7 of Head Room

“He doesn’t have enemies?”

He regarded me evenly.“Plenty of people who’d like to pop him in the moment, but somebody who’d murder him, I don’t know of any.Somebody who’d be able to murder him like this, I don’t think so, but if that’s what happened, you’re finding out what happened will take care of that, too.”

“I haven’t agreed to even try to find out what happened, much less succeed.And that’s if there’s anything to find out.”

Bad, bad, bad tactical error on my part.I should have led with the possibility of there being nothing to find out.Tacking it on at the end sounded like I thought there probably was something to find out.

He caught it, but was smart enough not to jump on it, which would have put my back up.

“Besides,” I picked up, “if you’re ruling out suicide, while insisting he’s missing, there’s still a dead body recovered from that fire with a hole in its skull — presumably a bullet hole pending the autopsy — and wearing your friend’s favored brand of boots.”

“That’s the easy explanation.Doesn’t make it correct.Sergeant Shelton indicated you’re adept at solving puzzles.”

“He did?”came out of my mouth unchecked.

He almost started to smile.Or maybe not, since I hadn’t seen a smile yet, so the brief movement around his mouth and eyes could have been something else.Likegotcha.

“I saidindicated.He didn’t come out and say it.But he sent me to you.And with a certain satisfaction, I believe, in finding a solution that got me out of his office and put me in yours.Two birds, one stone.”

NowthatI believed.

“If Frank — Sergeant — Jardos didn’t commit suicide,” I reminded him, “there’s still the dead body to account for.”

He volunteered nothing.

“Hard as it might seem, the most logical explanation is that the body is that of your friend.”

That didn’t draw him, either.

To keep going, I tried a U-turn to see if that could shake things up.

“You said you couldn’t think of anyone who’d want to kill him.How about someone he’d want to kill?”

“No.”No hesitation, yet was there something...?

“How about a reason he’d run off?”

“No.”He didn’t leave any possibility of being wrong in that syllable.

“You are leaving no option open if nobody wanted to kill him and he wouldn’t kill himself or anybody else, when there is that dead body to explain.”

“There’s your puzzle to solve.I have to catch a flight in Cody.”

He put a business card on the table.

He’d already added two handwritten numbers to it.“My cell number and my wife’s.If you have questions.”

He stood.

I didn’t.I hadn’t cleaned my plate yet.

“Glad you haven’t said you’re leaving it in my capable hands,” I said with asperity, “since I’ve promised nothing.Not even to have questions.”Though I had to admit, the odds were in his favor there.“Nor have I given you my number.Though you can reach me at the station—”

“I have no knowledge about the capability of your hands except your reputation and an initial impression.Sergeant Shelton gave me your cell number.I’ll call.”

Wasn’t Wayne Shelton the busy boy?And wasn’t I looking forward to getting the colonel’s call and fighting the instinct to stand at attention?

He turned and left.Not quite quick time.